Mmlmi the oft-trfe* «eft tressi.*,.™.1 * *»«». <H ttfcfti* you, t. netw «H». . . / ' ' C , >, V . ~ mmsmm " '~:trc ..., woTte»d in i sarin* to the golden f#i iMl ever bronirht wavins "wsaeCd <*»»* rtfr'Noiife door I ttUk ones waiting there, k« millionaire manl Aitv never Invt howded » si*y atttmee be rough: IftBlflMliili tmtimn thBf Mveiove «nd ' - liwar mill find »<*• riches enough. fvL •... The OBlvland they will ever own 'M£-<s. VJ| the land that the strong right jura UMD&tlent, t< *rl<w heart aloas - {. CtaWSWfWfaktn^v s , ,4g|; #i t qftr* vaiOttas !»wl mr wanti, A»d a ltttleljw ctyodK d»y*; But no pMnmn ntrhomestend hantftft, , Jtaoti as dlvw and gold might rai*e. J '̂ UOnM iM ii«4r«a thiii-wittr wfmrkltBg mirth Or with placid conntenanoe sbine-- And no wealth-clogged lord npon all the earth •J more blessed than mine. vi ' HDBt #*. I am laboring all day long. «. •• < With the mind and the muscle, too; Bat I thank the Lord, who has made me itroag. And has given me work to do. * < » ' Fwr Whot, iirtMit. to the idle dron« Bat a runpire on tto land, ,, Keaning a trait that by other* *• a«fcni/V j. m ! * ,. THROWN A BUSS, OARttr. v "You think you Jove me, Ruth I* : fcnow I do, dfl«r." , t 1 rf3v V'You pity me. A woman can t really .V; l«re 8 blind man." , ; "Oh, my dearest,"with a sudden rain ,:©f tears and a swift, sweet clasping of Hie hands in hers, "Don't say that to me unless you wish to break my heart! • J love you, Loyal. I always loved you. gloved you long before lever heard your voice, and I knew it as soon as I looked upon your face." " ""Looked upon my face? Ah! I never fUrre seen vours, sweetheart. Tell me again how you look. Com* let me hold jour face in my hands while you tell ji».M "Oh, I am a great beauty, I assure you. People turn in the streets to look * -;<«|terme." fs; til it "It is true. , I know you must be beautiful, for your voice is beautiful," softly patting the brown braids. ? ! "Mir. Clifford, you are a sentiment- /'ilist. I won't hate yoti. It has always ' X been my desire to marry a practical IrM ' Xt •!- th, 'M BBf- • "You are too late with your refusals, in#eetheart. You just said that you Tftted We, though I cant imagine why." 1 "^Neither can L You have always snubbed me and maltreated me in a •way to justifv me in--choking vou!" stood up, drawing her arm tightly «jf ound his neck and patting his head in Her turn with shy defiance in her tone ^adperfect submission in h r̂ eye ̂ and '"I? Snubbed you? Ruth!" j 1 "It is so; Mr. Clifford; deny it, if yon can! Didn't I beg you to let me read vr < yoga, when you first came to the Springs last summer? Didn't I wheedle you into lotting me lead you now and i)M*wWyou went to take the water, and didn't Ton often refuse to let me go "nidi you? Didn't I leant whole volumes < 4f 8UMe» abd Lsetdor because you said you liked them, and didn't I recite * tfeoee yeraes to you ik if I had known for'ages ? Didnt Eureka and the whole State of Arkansas transfigure themselves into a glorified country and »fl Adnofused land for me one rainy day ,^whsn,you told me you liked my voice? What a summer last summer was, Loyal! Did birds ever sing so before? * Did blossomg and vines and trees ever *llr!*•» hang#o fujl of blessings? .Was there l«<» ':; »evar sneh air as we breathed that day ^W4 went rowing on Silver Lake ? Was ever water so pure and sweet as the ^Scpr We drank that day? Loyal, can W W happier in heaven than we were during those weeks that we knew we loved each other before we said it?" ̂"Don't, Ruth," whispered the man, leaning his head for a-moment on her beart, and sighing heavily, then aloud •Iteuet not let you say I !,,4|nch things, Ru^li. . I must not let you •"aki ) , aacrificeyour strong, bright youth to a 4wili t _#**« ; -41 »< A t - 1#. "IS** ta . "Sacrifice! Loyal! Oh, my love, , promise me you "never will say th&t P%ord to me again. Promise, dear, t 'R prosMse;n Bhe erouchedion her knees Wfide him with her face in his hand, the misery of her entreating making her • to n..." - •***%. * tiii HThe iaaD and wompn stood hand in J»; band and face to fiuje, alone on the silent hill-side, with the sighing pine ui' above them. . , 5; % "Ruth, I will promise if you can •, W3Sv.|j ^aiake me from my heart believe it is not ^ Mcrifice. How can you prove it to * f» '* rv W0? I love your words, but women's .k^arts are always tender, and it would •f.f me to have you w(ike up in a year or two and find out that you misunder- .5 stood your feeling for me. I love your 'iforis, Imt l want some other token." '4» 1 "Oh,, Loyal, if you oould only see me!" il »« >• "Dear* eyes! I know what they are * paying, dear heart; but I am too jeal- •*-.<•118 of your love to bear that you should ^ lancy you are giving it to me when you are really giving me tender, girlish ro- , ^ftnee, pity and duty." "Loyal, you don't know what love is >r ^ »ourself, or you would not say such , ; things to me." She pushed his palms •t» - - ' " - . - ' 4 V*.;' . 4? f it from hers and stood away from him. % Is love self-indulgence, or is it the 'I *'fca thee and thou in me'that the Infinite Love typifies lor us? If I did not love jrou as God lets few men be beloved, ould I be your promised wife to-day? Would I have clung to you through all . unselfish rebuffs of me? I know *"**'*'• ? Jrou meant to be kind to me, Loyal, but were bitterly, bitterly cruel. I krew to revere your nobleness and yoOr fW ®hicerity, but I suffered, I suffered. <'• 4n j 3^len we both went away from Eureka Jin) summer without a word or promise {between us, I had a triple burden to First, always the knowledge erf f ' • your suffering; to feel through long, of weewng and rebellion • ana longing, the dirkness and despair of your sorrow in my heart. Then the . ,^li^|4oubt of your love for me---the womanly shame that_consumed me-" ft '•mnim wiij "Ruth! Ruth! Ruth! don't cry! O, don't, don't 017! Fdrgive me, forgive + He tdok her in Ids arms, and she V , tested her head on his shoulder. By '*n mt afad-byri»e lifted- her face smiling. She p i in4 ii drew hsr ftnger over her wet cheeks, Z* ^«<fth«n aMooafe his eyes. I»t» I t-jr, ; "There, cry my tears for me, sir," k** m y°« al1 m7 burdens next time you stumble on a girl »" apparently by accident, dftn't get Mr I VS.- VJ.J iflto proposing to her unless you m n* intend to abide by your matrimonial ex pressions. Do yob want to 'go back on me,' Loyal?" & "Apparently by accident! What do it*" wl'v> ^ y°n mean? You didn't know I was in £uzeka agm?" "Oh, no, of course not. I am not a scheming creature, not L O, no, no! I came here for my papa's rhenmatism, I did. Rut I never thought of ooasing him to try these waters wU I beard you were here. Oh, I'll b^tWithful, I will. I didn't happen to go by just as yo« came down toe steps of .your boarding- houŝ . No, I didn't. I had been watching your dot* like a kitten for an hour. How surprised I acted, didn't I? Don't you think I bad better go on the stage, sir, say? Ah, but you couldn't see my face, nor my eyes, and the tears didn't get into my voice. And didnt I say, 'let me lead you in the old way! in a nic? little inconsequent fashion? And didn't you begin tremhUug, aA4 didn't I, and aren't we up here on this blessed hill again together ?" "Together." . - , , "Together." . ", ' '* «N over topart agaw, Rutn?z . "Till death," she said, cheerily, and not then, Loyal, and that is many hap py,years in the future.* • "I hope so, Ruth." 1 "And you will never say that awful word 'sacrifice' again? You will be lieve without any 'token' that the only sacrifice I could make v. ould be to live away from you and try to bear my life and your suffering alone?" » t. "I never will say it again, my girL I believe we love each other,*" , "Good. Now I'll promise you some- thiag." , ' V "Yes." " Yes. Yon are going to see. Some way I know it. Loyal, I am perfectly certain of it. It is like an inspiration. I know you are going to see again. How many years is it since ?" Ten years, dear, but it is hopeless." No, it isn't hopeless. Something tells me it is not. Maybe it will be the water that will give you vour sight- people will say that it is. Rut it will be beoause I love you so. What does it mean, Loyal? How do I know it?" holding his hands tightly and gazing into his sightless eves. It means, Ruth," he answered sol emnly, "that love like ours is strong enough for a miracle. I love you, Ruth, and I believe you.; I shall see you be fore I die." » 1L Some people are very happy during their engagment and some ate fitfully jubilant and miserable. The latter class for outnumbers the former, be cause true marriages are such rare things in this world. People go on marrying for money or for ambition or just to get husbands, wives, and homes, and the spiritual unrest of the mis mat ing is felt before marriage in prophetic little miseries that ought to give warn ing of the breakers ahead. Perhaps it does; but, having always heard that one must take the bitter with the sweet in married life, engaged people get on with the bitter as best they can, and get so used to it often that after marriage they scarcely know just when the sweetness gets choked into silent death. Rut the few happy people who find their real mates in this word are very likely to have peaceful engagements. The engagement of Loyal and Ruth was marvelously happy. Together they revisited all the haunts made dear by memories of unspoken hours of Ely sium there a year full of weary months age. "It seems as though it must be more than a year since last August, Loyal," s aid Ruth, one day when they were rowing on Silver lake. "Are you quite certain that there hasn't been a mistake made in the calendar?? "No , I am not. I have an idea that it is two centuries since we Were here before--rowing' on Silver lake--two very unhappy centuries, and we apart from each other." "Unhappy, Loyal? You?" "Yes, I. Did you think you bad a monopoly of the unhappiness? You didn't act very wretched. As nearly as I could learn of your doings you were a gay and giddy creature all last win ter, going to parties and flirting, and"-- "Oh, Loyal, I dared not do other wise. I could not bear to have my heartache suspected. Then papa need ed me to be always cheerful with him after he was so ill, and it always per plexed and worried him for me not to wish to see or be Been." "You needn't explain it again, my dear. We are happy now, ~ "Happy? Is this happiness? I didn't Ippw what to cfbll jt. Happiness is said to often that it doesn't seem to mean enough for you and me, Loyal. Can't we invent another word? Isn't there a word just for us two, love--a beautiful word like a thought of a star ?" "Miss Hoi man, you are a sentiment alist. 1 won't have you. It is my de sire to marry a practioal woman." "Yerr well, Mr. Clifford. With the conventional 'fury of a woman scorned' I am going to tip this boat over and drown you. I shall hold you under, then swim ashore myself." "And when you go back to town yott will marry Garry White?" j 1 "Loval Clifford, if you"-- "Well, if I?" . . "If ever again you throw any of my little innocent flirtations in my face that way I'll just tell you what people say about you." What's the lateit? That I am a selfish wretch to let a girl marry a poor, blind--" "Hush! No. They say you are very much deceived in me--that I am going to marry you for your money." Loyal laughed in the hearty, happy way that was becoming habitual witn him of late. "That must be it. I knew you were a scheming creature by your own con fession, but I never quite understood the depths of your self-interest. What Are you going to do with your money when you get it, Mrs. Clifford?" Ruth's face flushed and she fell silent, playing with her oar. "Why don't you answer?" asked Clif ford, presently. "I--I, or you, well--- Ruth amazed her lover by the quiv ering and the hesitancy of her voice. "What in the world! TeH me, Ruth," he commanded. She laughed a little at tke pleasure she took in her own full and instant obedience. "Why, my love, I am frightened. I really believe I am blushing; my cheeks feel quite crim son." "Because I called you Mrs. "Yes. yes. Don't any more. Loyal, I wish it was I who had money, lots of it, and hopes of more." "Mercenary creature, why? "No, seriously, dear, I do, I have - is womanly strength, vWo1*." »**• relied. make it up to me for all you have made me suffer." *Ruth, do yon understand youiwelf?" "Ye% donlyou?" "No,,I confesa I don't^* ' "Weil, I'll explain sometime. Per haps if you ponder it a little you will understand it without my telling you." "Perhapa I will. It is very subtle and delicate philosophy, but I will make a superhuman effort to grasp it." "You can, Loyal, because it is truly subtle and delicate." "You are a base flatterer, Mcs. Clif ford." "Loyal, I told yqu to not!",,,, "Well, I won't, th*n--till Christmas." Did I tell you I am going to wear a brown surah, just the color of my hair, a sort of red in it, yon know, and I don't mean to wear any gloves or veil, or have anybody there, if you don't mind," responded Ruth, with a charm ing lack of lucidness which can be fully interpreted only by women. Presently Loyal: "Ruth, yr% ,have been engaged a fortnight." "A minute!" "No; a long fortnight, and if you want a quiet wedding--and I know I do--why should we wait till we go away from here? Why not be married soon, and not go back for a few months longer? You think the waters are helping me. Ruth began a faint murmur of pro test, but his closing clause saved him. "They are helping vou!" she cried. "Perhaps you will see your bride, Mr. Clifford--perhaps!" " "I would rather see my wife, Ruth, dear." She got up and kissed him, to the imminent danger of overturning their boat, and to the great amusement of two juvenile Arkansans who were wad ing in the shallows at the edge of the lake. , 1 , "Do give me a chance to name the day," she said. I "Well?" , "Two years from last year.""" "Don't be flippant, Rath." *r • "I never professed to be^itTting- mhided," she retorted. "No; but you have made protesta tions about being strong-hearted, an" now it is your duty to live up to them.d "Very well, sir; all right, sir; name the day your own self, please, sir," laughed Ruth, with an absurd little pre- tense of humility and gladness, .femi- nine-wise.to hide the real tumult of sub mission and joy which a maiden can never, if she truly loves, fully reveal to her lover. There must be some revela tions and delights for the husband to surprise in the heart of his wife. " We will be married next week, Ruth," said Loyal. , "Thank yon sir. What day, please, sir, if you don't mind mentioning it?" "Wednesday." "And this is Saturday. Well,"--- with a little, long sigh. "Well; only I'll have to wear my old white dress, and I have been counting on that lovely aesthetic surah. I mean't to have had it'made with a full skirt and no dra pery, and a pointed bodice and--" "Mrs. Clifford!" reprimanded Loyal, and Ruth absolutely refused to speak to him thereafter until they bad fast ened their boat at the boat- house and were walking along the ledge of rock above Silver Cascade. "It sounds clear, Ruth. Is it as bright as your eyes?" "Yes, dear, much brighter. The sun shine sparkles in the waiter and jumps along the rock, and the pool at th) bot tom is clear and deep, with greens and. blues of light and shade in it." "Light and shade. Yon are my light, Ruth, and'I--" "I'll push you into the water if yon say it, threatened Ruth; "ft nice old shade yon are! I won't have yon if you are an old ghost!" They were married as Loyal wished. His father and mother came from their home in Somewhere, and a cousin -or two and his brother. Ruth's father was with her, and she did not wish to ask any of her friends to make the long journey from her home. So the wed ding was a very quiet one. And after ward, everybody, even Ruth's father, went away and the, two lingered on at Eureka. Summer glowed into autumn. The oaks and the maples burned reds that vied with the brilliancy of the va rying hues of the dogwoods. Tourists began going away, all hearing with them meniories of the happy pair who had wandered arm in arm before them through the streets of the village, or off upon the pine-covered hills, or away up the moss and rock-filled ravines beside the bright pebbly brooks that flowed down from the heights beyond. Everybody spoke of the happiness of the young man and his bride. They said that he was beginning to see. He could tell daylight from darkness. He grew to know when a shadow passed between him and the window. At last a morning came when it was said among the little groups filling their pails at the Rasin that Clifford had seen his wife's hand. Their landlady said that it was just after breakfast. The two had risen from table and were standing beside the window that looks over toward the red and yellow glories of East mountain. Mrs. Clifford put her hand np play fully before her husband's eyes--her left hand. "Why, Ruth!" he cried, suddenly, "why, dearest! I see the shining of your wedding ring." She lifted her face with the gladness of prophesy in her eyes and answered, "You are going to see, Loyal, you are going to see." Then they went out, arm in arm, to gether. That evening the people filling their pails at the Basin spoke in whispers, and some of the women were crying as Clifford's landlady told them of the sudden tragedy that had fallen on the blithe and hopeful young husband and wife. It was just a little before supper said Mrs. Holcomb, "and I saw how white Mrs. Clifford was before I opened the door. She leaned a minute against the porch-post, and he put his arm around her to steady her; and when she saw me she fainted quite away, and her husband took her in his arms and car ried her to the sofa. 'Send for a doo tor, please,' said he, 'and give me some water.' I saw then his face was bleed ing, and I cried out to know what was. the matter. 1 ran into a rock-ledge, said he, 'and put out my eye.' And not to pot think of me,' ,never can see,'oh! not to hat* left you me, love.' 'I ought walk without you, then their voioes got •way." .. _ T es "got low," for Loyal w^m^ juiitly, "Be brave, deal heart, for Jialte of the light and life your life islfrlhging us. My suffering is not very amen, and you must not let your thonghts of it darken our baby's little life so long before it comes to us." "But, Loy*I, you will not see the babv," she murmured. "Still, I can't .be unhappy while ] live, Ruth, Sweetheart, for 1 have seen yoti," and be bent his head and kissed her wedding-ring. -- Chicago Intet Ocean. run after you so shamelessly to get you oh, dear! the doctor says the other is Parasites tint Thrive en BmI Trees. There we* parasites, so called, Which flourish just as well upon a dead tret as any other support, thus proving they are apiphitea and not parasites. The roots adhere to the bark of trees and do not penetrate to rob the life-blood of others. Not content with this exist ence, other plants of this strange class draw to themselves atom after atom ol dust and mold, so that they wrap around their roots and their elevated perches handful after handful of earth, and still gorging as the appetite grows stronger, they share the common fate of gluttony and come toppling down, thus making room for others. Seen in their high seats among the trees, the effect of this horde of parasites and air-plants is always peculiar in the extreme. The parasites are often beautiful, yet their Csence occasionally detracts from the utv of a tree, and the thing grows ludicrous when you catch sight of some huge plant just balancing itself, with seeming difficulty, on a loose piece of bark that its own rank roots have displaced while it sought a firmer foot ing, till now it hangs trembling on a aingle tiny straining thread. Even when one has growq familiar with with it all it still remains^in enchanted land. One need not be possessed cf any over- atrong imag nation to say, as he stands gazing at the parasites: "All these once grew in their native bed, low at the foot of these tall trees. . Then came some geni and with his marvelous spade flung both plant and sufficient earth to nourish it high among the limbs." There they still lodge--the power of enchantment is not yet dissolved, and you whose fascinated gaze is held in thrall may admire and wonder, but you will not live till the spall is broken.-- --Para (Brazil) Cor. 8%n Francisco Chronicle. Getting the Worth of His Money. A man, a little top-heavy, rushed ihto a Sixth avenue telegraph office, seized a telegraph blank and a stub pen with a ball of dried ink on the end, and, by propping himself against the counter, managed to write the follow- U>f[ate, I Won't be home till morning' HABBX. "What'll that cost me?" said the man, handing the message through the pot hole to the manipulator of electricity. "Let me see. Seven words--15 cents. Anything not exceeding ten will cost yon 15 cents to any address in the city," answered the operator. "I'm bound to have the worth of my money out of you corporations, then," said the man, bracing himself against the counter as he tracied on a blank this clear message: Incomprehensibility,manufacturers, trans cendentalism, Constantinople, concavo-con vex, Massachusetts, assassination. Pennsyl vania, imperturbability, philoprogenitlve- nes& "There, string that on your wire and send her at a 2:40 gait," said the man, with a look of vengeance in his eyes. The operator counted the words, but volunteered the information that tliere was no sense in the message. , "I know there's no sense in it, but Katell understand it all the same; she'll know I'm on a drunk, anyway, when I send a message at this hour, whether it's sense or not. I make 'em long on purpose to break the back of your darned machine: Shovel 'em in and start the crank. I'm in for a good time. Never mind the expense; here's your 15 cents." And the man ran out and hailed a passing cab.--New York World. , v Settlement of the Carollnas. ; A company of Huguenots, many of them soldiers and men of rank, with Ribault as their leader, while on an ex ploring tour, entered a harbor, which they named Port Royal, and, being much pleased with the country, thirty were chosen to begin a colony. Their object was to search for gold, but fail ing to discover any they built a rude ship and put to sea in it. In 1650 a settlement was started upon the Chow an river by emigrants from Virginia and England, which was afterward called Albemarle County Colony, and another settlement near Wilmington, made by planters from Barbadoes, was named Clarendon County Colony. In 1670 a colony settled upon the banks of the Ashley river, bwt ten years later it re moved to the present site of Charleston, S. C. These three colonies were simi lar in origin and under the same Gov ernor until 1729, when the two Caro- linas Avexe erected into distinct prov inces. ;. " 1 Dogs in Church. In Georgia an old custom is still in vogue of carrying dogs to Church. In the Presbyterian Church in Macon, a ferocious bulldog entered and curled himself up at his mistress' feet. After awhile, as the preacher began to warm up, and his voice rose to an unusually- high pitch, the do£ started for the minister, but his mistress coaxed him back. In the Methodist Church in Albany, Ga., a pointer dog lay curled up for a nap near the pulpit. As the preacher became emphatic he struck the Bible a resounding whack. The dog jumped uj) with a yelp that startled the congregation ana went galloping ..away, The Oldest Tunnel. Perhaps the oldest tunnel Hi the Alps, in existence, is the heading driven _t»y the orders of Margrave Louis II., of Saluzzo, through Mont Viso, and constructed - in the years of 1472 to 1480. It was completed at total cost, including the paths leading to the respective openings, of 12,000 florins. The tunnel has a height of six and a half feet and an average width of eight feet, and at the present time a length of about 250 feet. because I knew it would break my heart to live away from you, and--and --because I hoped you needed my love and care." "But Ruth, sweetheart, why should that make you wish to put me in the way of appearing to marry you for your money?" sure to go, too, from sympathy, and now there is no hope at all of his seeing her. He wanted to so mtich. He never saw her, you know. I heard them talk ing after the doctor had gone: " 'Don't cry, love,' said he. It does not pain me at all, now. I don't mind eXOept for your sake, Ruth. You have JOHN BRIGHT estimates that since the beginning of the present century Great Britain has spent about $22,000,000, 000 for war, and only about $4,000, 000,000 for civil government and im provements. THE London Missionary Society ^ owns mission '****$* fMKJtOLMES. •MM •SLFII» AH--»; •,»» WRITTAGA MT OtlMr WpPjiatt Wslwis You BiMP Nljt&nniia truth, which admits of law exceptions, that those who Mk your opinion really want your ^Memory is a net. One finds it full of fish when he takes it from the brook, but a dozen miles of water have run through it without sticking. God bless all good women! To their soft hands and pitying hearts we must all come at last. Put not your trust in money but put your money in trust. When a strong brain is weighed with a true heart, it seems to me like bal ancing a bubble against a wedge of gold. Controversy equalizes fools and wise men in the suae way--said the fools know it. I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand as in .what direction we are moving. If the sense of the ridiculous is one side of an impressible nature, it is very well; but if that is all there is in a man, he had better have been an ape and stood at the head of his profession at once. Travelers change their guineas, not their characters. There are three wicks to the lamp of a man's life: brain, blood and breath. Press the brain a little, its light goes out, followed by both the others. Stop the heart a minute and out go all three of the wicks. Choke the air out of the lungs, and presently the fluid ceases to supply the other centers of flame, and all is soon stagnation, cold and dark ness. The scientific study of man is the most difficult of all branches of knowl- edge. There are a good many real miseries in life that we cannot help smiling at,but they are the smiles that make wrinkles ana not dimples. We must have a weak spot or two in a character before we can love it much. People that do not laugh or cry, or take more of anything than is good for them, or use anything but the dictionary words, are admirable subjects for biog raphies. But wo don't care most for those flat-pattern flowers that press best in the herbarium. Faith always implies the disbelief of a lesser fact in favor of a greater. The Broad Church, I think, will nev er be based lipon anything that requires the use of language. Freemasonry gives the idea of such a church. The cup of cold water does not require to be translated for a foreigner to understand it. The only Broad Church possible is that which has its creed in the heart, and not in the head. I would have a woman as true as death. At the first real lie, which works from the heart outward, she should be tenderly chloroformed into a better world, where she can have an angel for a governess, and feed on strange fruits, which shall make her all over again, even to her bones and mar row. Why can't somebody give us a list of things which everybody thinks and no body says, and another list of things that everybody says and nobody thinks? All Day in a Mexican Town. No one seems in a hurry in these places. And why should they be? The necessaries of life are few and very cheap, and the extra dollar needed for the Sunday cock-fight or the weekly game of "monte," of the men, and' the fan or comb or silver shawl-pin of the women, easily earned, and so the good man is not obliged to walk fast on off days when he is in town and goes round to the "matanza," or butcher's shop, to buy a piece of meat for dinner, and there is not the least reason why he should not stop for twenty minutes on the sidewalk and talk to Juan or Jose, whom he has encountered on the way, or spend half an hour in at the tendajo," hanging over the counter and discussing a glass of mescal' or the crops with Tomas or Telesforo. The good wife, too, rises early, and the day still young by the time she has fetched water from the river and swept the earthen floor of the one living room and the "patio" outside and given the good man his breakfast and dis patched him to the fields, and she has ample time to don her black head-shawl and trot off to the morning service, and by no means hurries herself as she walks home again and dvops Donnas Juana and Maria and Victoriana at their respective doors, stopping awhile to exchange a few parting remarks with each; ample time has she, too, to pre pare the inevitable tortillas, beans and coffee for the mid-day meal. From noonday till between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon (during which hours the inhabitants are all in-doors eating dinner and taking the subsequent "siesta") is the quietest and laziest time of all. Then, indeed, does the little town seem like a city of the dead. "The streets lie white, silent and deserted in the fierce sunlight, nothing stirring in them save a hungry pig or two, or a dog going somewhere on unavoidable business, his head hanging and his tongue out, as he hugs closely to the mud wall which offers the faintest pros pect of a little shade. Even the voice of the irrepressible cock gets faint and weary at these hours, and the mournful cooing of-the pigeons becomes low and intermittent." Between 3 and 4 o'clock the town be gins to wake up slowly. At 4, or there abouts, comes "merienda," a sort of afternoon tea, consisting of coffee and oakes. At 5 the women dress and go out visiting; at 7 the bells sound for oracion," or evening service; at 8 comes supper, and by 9 all in as still as the grave, except on Sunday nights, when the band plays in the little "plaza," on moonlight nights when the rich notes of the mocking-bird fill the silence and make the exiled Englishman think of nightingales and home.--Garcia (Afe.r.) Cor. Philadelphia Times California Wine in French Bottles. The grape and wine industry of Cali fornia seems to be constantly and rapidly extending, and in some of the small towns the French custom of giving cheap native wines at tavern dinners without extra charge has already been established. But I have not found it in any of the larger places. In a Los Angeles restaurant where we stopped for lunch, I called for claret. "Will you have the French or the California wine ?" I was asked. "If you have any very good French claret, bring it; but let me see the bottle before you draw the cork. So the waiter brought me a red wine in a bottle labeled "Haut Sauterne." Evi dently the wine had just been poured in, and the neck was full of bubbles. The serving of common California wines in old French bottles is practiced at at inns and eating-houses with a bold ness that despises concealment, and a disregard of 4|n« labels which it is im- -- -- w _ at twrernm road, I ai_ had. "Oh, •my kM» Give ™ anythingyou wtah--Obataam, Ifjunanx, Chateau Lafitte--all the French wnies." -- "I think "Then," replied Ow you had better brmc else." And I ordered Thdifwaia wine which I am bound to say was not good, but then, at least, it was sold under its own name for a reasonable prioe.--Cor. New York Tribune. Sunshiny Hi We read so muoh about the obliga tion laid upon the wife to be a perpet ual sunbeam in the house that a word to husbands on the same topie may not be amiss. A cheerful atmosphere is important to happy home life. It is very hard for children to be good when they are ex posed to an incessant hail-storm of fault finding from their parents. It is very difficult for a wife to maintain a calm and charmin gly-s weet demeanor when her husband is critical, cynical or sul len, and takes all her tender efforts With indifferent appreciation. I know full well the air of polite amaze ment or amiable incredulity with which men receive the statement of a woman's opinion that, in the home partnership, wife and not husband pulls the labor ing oar. Still, it is true that, let a man's business be ever so engrossing, ever so wearisome, ever so laborious, the mere fact that he goes to it in the morning, and returns from it at night, sets him above his wife in ease and com fort. For him the slavery of routine has its intervals and its breaks. He gets a breath of the world ouside; he has a change of scene daily; he sees people and hears them talk, and hia home is distinctly his refuge and shel ter. Let a wife and mother love her home and her children with the most absolute, unswerving devotion, and serve them with the most unselfish fidelity, there are, nevertheless, times when she is very weary. She knows, better than any one else, the steps and the stitches, the same things done over and over, and the pet tiness of the trials that come to nursery and kitchen. They are so insignificant that she is ashamed to talk about them, and I fear she sometimes forgets to tell her Savior how hard they press her, and so, bearing her cross all alone, ita weight becomes crushing. A sunshiny husband makes a merry, beautiful home, worth having, worth working in and for. If the man is breezy, cheery, considerate and sympa thetic, his wife sings in her heart over her puddings and her mending-basket, counts the hours till he returns at night, and renews her youth in the se curity she feels of his approbation and admiration. You may think it weak or childish if you please, but it is the admired wife, the wife who hears words of praise and receives smiles of commendation, who is capable, discreet and executive. I have seen a timid, meek, self-distrusting lit tle body fairly bloom into strong, self- reliant womanhood under the tonic and the oordial of companionship with a husband who Really went out of his way to find occasions for showing her how fully he trusted her judgment, and how tenderly he deferred to her opinion. In home life there should be no jar, no striving for place, no insisting on prerogatives, or division of interests. The husband and the wife are each the complement of the other. And it is just as much his duty to be cheerful, as it is hers to be patient; his right to bring joy into the doer, as it is hers to sweep and garnish the pleasant inte rior. A family where the daily walk of the father makes life a festival is filled with something like a heavenly benediction.--Mrs. Margaret & Sang- iter. ' Recognized as a Liar. Uncle Hank Allen was perhaps the smoothest and most accomplished liar in Central New York. Why, the old man's lies were so smooth, so artistic, that, while listening to them, you imagined you were listening to Elder Cleveland's Bible stories. One day they were all talking about potato-bugs in Uncle Hank's grocery, which was a sort of village farmers' club. Old Hank scratched his head thoughtfully and remarked: "Gentlemen, you don't any of you appear to know anything about the ravenous nature of them potater-bugs. You may call me a liar, but I've had potater-bugs walk right into my kitchen and yank red-hot potaters right out of the oven, waiting around the potater- patch for the second crop!" exclaimed old Hank, with a sneer. "Waiting? Why, confound your eyes, I was up at Townsend's store yesterday, and I saw potater-bugs up there looking over Townsend's books to see who had bought seed potatoes for next year. I did. by gosh!" The whole grocery was still when Uncle Hank finished. You could have heard a pin drop. Finally, a long, lean man from Woodman's Pond raised him self up near the door. He was evidently a new-comer, and was not acquainted with Mr. Allen. Pointing his long finger at Uncle Hank, he exclaimed: "You are a liar!" Uncle Hank looked over his glasses at the stranger long and earnestly. Then, holding out his hands, he in quired, with a puzzled look: "When did you get acquainted with me!"--Eli Perkins. As Useful a Person as the Dade. "There goes a stove-warmer," said one of the knowing ones to a reporter. "What is a stove-warmer?" "You see those fellows laying aronnd the engine houses all day? Well, they are all stove-warmers. You have gone into a saloon and asked your friends to drink. You may have seen a fellow step up to the bar with those you have invited. He lays around the saloon all day. Set him down as a stove-warmer. He goes into a barber shop. He lays about there all day and reads the pa pers. You find him everywhere, in the billiard saloons, in the pool rooms, in the gambling houses. Wherever men gather to spend money or time you al ways find the stove-warmer."--.Louis ville Courier-Journal. NEAR Bozeman, on the Northern Pa cific railroad, is a curve which, if pro longed, would make a circle 600 feet in diameter. This is a very sharp curve, as 720 feet is the smallest diameter deemed safe. THE veterans in the Dayton Sol diers' Home are given a fish dinner every Friday, and it takes 1,600 pounds of fresh fish to satisfy them. IT is said that decaying cabbage will produce diphtheria sooner than any other nuisance abont the house. THERE are 18,000,000 Catholics in Spain, and 40,000 magnificent churches urn XT w. niauMnnM ka. Mr. Eru&Hit ar paid her a visit. SfaftteM_. month. He consented., Bh graphed to Yassar College for her daughter Grace to come dMb immedi ately. Mis* €hraoe came* • rjtffp. B. wanted Mr. Erudite to become Mr son- in-law. Mr. Erudite waa bashful, but thought he could. Mrs. B.* knowing the worth of evidence should be ever back out and a breach of promise en sue, told the maid to keep a sharp eye on Mr. Erudite and Graoe. The maid did. - ' n- Billing and cooing noted by maid, Mrs. B. to maid: "What doea- JCr. Erudite say to Miss Graoe when they meet in the morning?" Maid to Mrs. B.: "He says, ma'am, 'have more tea.' I thlnfc the poor young gentleman isn't right in his head, ma'am. He says 'have more tea' so often to Miss Grace. Here's a card, ma'am, that he put under her door yes terday morning, but u iplli so iyld He has no a in his tea." "Give me that card. Dear me, what does it mean? 'Amo te, amo te.' Surely , that's Greek. Happy thought. I'll ask Prof. Buchsmeller what it means when be comes to give Graceher Latin lesson." > TIT, . : „ ...:• Mr. Buchsmeller is a graduate of Heidelberg. Is dead in love with Mrs. Blatherskite. Never told her so. Never told her husband so. ; i ^ : - v f i - i 1 'y. i!4 . v Mr. Buchsmeller rings. Mrs.. B. takes him into the back parlor and hands him the card with amo te on it. v. Mr. Buchsmeller throws his arms around the neck of Mrs. Blatherskite and gives her 992 kisses. He exclaims : "My cup of happiness is filled. My love, my darling, let us leave this very day--fly on the wings of love and leavto your pig and husband--" VI. Mr. Blatherskite comes home early. Meets Mr. Erudite in the dining-room. Both walk up to the parlor. Both witness the tableau. Mrs. Blatherskite faints. vn. The gentleman from Heidelberg jumps through the window minus hat, sans spectacles. < vm. - Mrs. Blatherskite is served with a summons and complaint in divorce pro ceedings. IX. Mr. Erudite goes bade to Harvald | bachelor. Amo to Anglice, I love the& r ' --New York World. Character In Smekinf" It's twenty years, said a cigar-dealer, now, since I began to sell tobacco, and in that time I have closely studied the characters of my patrons, forming my conclusions from the kind of company they keep. I mean by the kind of ci gars they smoke. I can always tell. An even-tempered, quiet fellow never goes to an extreme in choosing a to bacco; a nervous man wants something strong and furious; a mild man, some thing that smokes and nothing moret The same conditions run through chew, ing-tobacco. Then there is a greal deal in the way men handle their cigars. Very few can smoke on one side as wele as on the other. Men come in here every day who have been smoking for thirty years, and if they were to plao- a cigar on the wrong side of the mouth they would appear as clumsy and green as a boy who was trying his first weed. The muscles of the face become set to one position. Any change requires a reorganization of the face. So it ain't by the way the cigar is embraced in the mouth that you can estimate a man. If a man smokes his cigar only often enough to keep it lighted, and relishes taking it from between his lips to cast a whirling curl of blue smoke into the air, set him down as an easy going fellow, who cares little for how the world goes and no more for himself. He has keen perceptions and delicate sensibilities. He will not create trouble, but is apt to see it out when it is once begun. Beware of the man who never re leases the cigar from the grip of his teeth, and is indifferent of whether it burns or dies. He is cool, calculating and exacting. He is seldom energetic physically, but lives easily off of those who perform the labor. A man who smokes a bit, rests a bit and fumbles the cigar more or less, is apt to be easily affected by circum stances. He may be energetic, careful, generous and courageous, but he is vacillating and liable to change on a moment's notice. If the cigar goes out frequently the man has a whole-soul disposition, is a devil-may-care sort of fellow, with a lively brain, a glib tongue and gener ally a fine fund of anecdotes and yarns. To hold half of the cigar in the month and smoke indifferently is a lazy man's habit. They are generally of little force and their characters are not of the higher strata. A nervous man, or one under excit ing influences, fumbles his cigar a great deal. He is a kind of popinjay among men. Holding the cigar constantly between the teeth, chewing it occasionally and not caring whether or not it has been lighted at all, are characteristics of men with the tenacity of bull-dogs. They never forget anything and never release a hold. A fop stands his cigar on end, and an inexperienced smoker either points it straight ahead or almost at right- angles with his oonrse. -- Chicago News. Black Cloud. The famous trotting stallion, Black I Cloud, whose brilliant performance! upon the turf last season won! both the astonishment and admiration! of horsemen, has been sold by the es tate of the late Andrew Cutter, of I Parma, Mich., to M. Y. Wagner, Esq.,| Mayor of Marshall, Mich. Blac~ Cloud is perhaps the most magnificent looking horse in a race that ever trot upon the American turf. Mayor Wa ner has placed him in the hands of noted driver, Peter Y. Johnson, of Chi<| cago, who will campaign him this 1 son. _______ A YKBKOMT man bet a neighbor he couldn't walk half a mile withov looking to the right or left, and just 1 the man started on his walk set ti dogs to fighting about half way do the track and won his money as easihj as could be. A CHIHAMAX who appeared as a ness in a case in which he was deeplj interested could not understand was meant by kissing the book. Fii ly he got mad and bit the whole coi . • . , • : ' i.', k * ;