THE SERENADE. > SiL'A'i 0 iiSu p:%:: wm mB. fe m U : m u - Bt. Valentine! St Valentine! Be thou my friend this night, I seienade a dainty maid. . 51iat is csy heart's delight. Oh, pray she be not cold to me as are the f ' t frosty skies. , ' That I may see her. ttirn on me One sweet glance from her eyes. Beneath her window here I stay as still the e 'v.' moments go, , ; Tiil I divine by some slight sign Bhe hears my voice below. St. Valentine! St. Valentine! She doe!s not hear me yet-- • What's this I see? A slijn, dear me! ••THIS VACANT HOUSE TO LET!" a m i # When my dear Aunt Maud died--she died the very summer I graduated--I was really too heart-broken to care what be came of me. Still, 1 had to be disposed of in some way, so it was decided that I go to live with my brother Richard in South Carolina. Dick is a bachelor, an attorney-at-law, and has a very fair practice indeed. An terior to my advent, he had lived by him self in a pretty cottage on the prettiest street and was rather a central figure, and was quite the most eligible young man about town. "* We got on famously together, so fam ously that in all probability the last chap ter would have found us still there, he a grizzly old bachelor, I a grizzled old maid, had " not something occurred which brought about a change. It all grew out of whire* happened one St Valentine's eve. On this day, memorable above other flays, just about an hour after dinner Dick received a telegram to go up that evening to --, a city fifty miles away, to meet an important client. He did not have time to come home, for the train was then -in sight but he scribbled me the following note, which I did not get Until nearly night, because the office boy neglected to bring it until that time: 3:10 p. m. Dear Girl--Have to leave on next train to meet a man in A----. Probably won't get home till to-morrow noon. Spend the night with the Ancient (a dear old lady friend of mine). Be sure to put that money in the bank before it closes at 4. Don't fail. DICK. The money--several thousand dollars collected for a client--surely I could not at 7 put money in a bank that closed at 4. I could not very well carry it with me to the Ancient's, and I certainly could not leave it I had never heard of any burglaries in the village, so I made up my mind that I would stay at home that night and take the risk. I did not want any tea, so I let the ser vant girl go early; and sat before a big oak fire in the sitting room, "thinking up" one of Dick's cases. It was a murder case, that 'had a great deal of circum stantial evidence leading in various direc tions. I soon became deeply absorbed; so deeply that I presently went to sleep at it. chimney but that I was so walled in I could not The .next* thing I remember was opening my eyes ind seeing -the square of wan light above me:1 Then realising all,'my s'trength gave way, and I fell heavily, striking my head against something which left me senseless for hours. When I came to myself, I was in the arms of a young man whom I h?id never seen before. I don't suppose there was .ever a more terrified young man upon ihls earth of ours. Imagine an inoffensive young man turning up in a town where an intimate friend lived, coming in on the very train that takes this intimate friend out. Im agine the intimate friend cordially invit ing the newcomer to his house, telling him there was nobody in it, but that he could put up there, make himself lord and master, find plenty to eat by foraging around, and get a good bed. Then to make the thing complete, give him the wrong keys by which to let himself in. Imagine this newcomer booming about town until 11 o'clock, then striking out for his friend's .abode; overtaken by the rain; at last to arrive at his intended abiding place to discover he has the wrong keys, which necessitates his climbing into the house like a burglar. Imagine him piling into the first bed he comes to, very soon sinking off into the untroubled slum ber of thk innocent at heart to be awak ened at" the peep of day by a something tumbling down the chimney. Not a hob goblin--that were better--but a young Woman and one probably more dead than alive. Imagine it All, if you can, for that is what happened to the misguided young man, who hgld me across his knees and Wiped the blood from my broken forehead on that memorable St. Valentine's morn i n g . - . • When the servant girl came he went for the doctor, and Mary got me to bed. Dick came at noon, and Was horrified at what had happened. But the doctor had pronounced me more frightened than hurt; and really, but for the dreadful cold I caught, and my wounded forehead, it did not amount to anything, and soon be came a tremendous joke. And it turned out that this friend of Dick's, whose acquaintance I made in such an unconventional fashion, was the very client whose money I defended. And it also came about that--that he-- that I--that we have--we have grown to know each other very well.--Detroit Free Press. m A Valentine. What would I send you. Oh. friend of mine? i Clusters of blossoms To smile and shine, Pansles to gladdeif, Roses to bless; Lilies to bend in Their frail loveliness? But snow-drifts have hidden All beauty away. Not a smile's In the country, „ This wintry day. Everything's waiting To smile by and by; When summer's returning With blue sunny sky. But dear, I can never Forget you. you know. When winter is frowning, And chilly winds blow. So, I am sending, . „ J" Dear heart, to you, Wishes most tender And love most true. --Womankind. V Valentine Making. The lace' paper which comes upon toilet soap boxes, raisin boxes and confectionery --often large squares are used to cover the candies in boxes--may be made to play an important part in the valentine making. Strips of this,lace paper may be made to finish the four sides of a card, and pictures, ;£tamps" gilt lettering be, added to the mne#S*pace, or two wide strips may be fastened to opposite sides, meeting in the middle; these are to open back and show a picture or lettering be neath. A square of the lace paper will serve to make-a valentine quite equal to those in the'stores. One edge of the card is turned forward iind the edge of the lace square is pasted over this and forms an upper leaf. A verse, picture or butterflies may decorate the lower leaf and perhaps an embossed picture be added to the lf^ce front. Daintily colored paper is even pret- jtier with these laces than the white. <?*/ CjudSXtstZf A? <nr oCCBr*JSX>% j&Ub'isU C&ut A • Airvj- a<**> 4+* a* jpjUSF PY fi&x>jhra+x tyjv Am* <v •ff*£ .. e* *4*% /vc/ go*e/h4rtr CAiu/'/Jur®' ca*** (h&%x ^ . " ' ' v . w w J- £ f J*A ot40L£*mJCX2v A Cm!/ e£U& a£ZZ+ <atu*v ̂ &**£+/ fsfUXh /&+***> CtAAjcO. >C5%+l focsimije of Mr Lmcp/ns autographic; CO by of mejGeTfebur^) adctressfrnadc V» by nimjfor fne.solaierJs <and sai/ors ar DaJnhDore, ir\ I864-. t\ 4 •A.Pierce Pot St. Valentine's Day. My earnest love! When she is meek, And talks of prayer and penance lowly, Her silken eyelash on her cheek-- I love her then with love as holy. As free from earthly stain or taint, As monk may give to shrined saint H ill My winsome love! When sh^'s inclined I woke up suddenly, frightened to find I' ,To view life more In aspect human. vself PTl Vf»lnnoH in rliivl-nooo I ^ ' tO-find That sl^e can be so much a woman. myself enveloped in darkness. Every thing was so still. I was possessed with a strange, sinking fear. I was afraid to move, afraid to turn my head to left or Tight lest I see something terrifying lurk ing in the gloomy corners. I was cold, too, and trembling. The room was chill ed; I fancied it must be just before dawn. My fear increased rather than dimin ished as the moments dragged by. I had a kind of instinctive animal fear of im pending danger. I thought of the money. It was locked up in the cabinet at my right hand, not two yards away. I found myself listening painfully, torturously. " I endeavored to rally my courage, to persuade myself that I had awakened from a nightmare, and was nervous. All to no purpose. Something was going to happen which would bring me hurt. ' I could not throw off the notion. Just then it began to rain--a regular downfall, as if the bottom had suddenly fallen out --of the clouds. I have never known it to w i . ^ : If . n rain so heavily: A perfect deluge, and every drop seemed to penetrate my soul. I did not move. I lay back in my cush ioned chair helpless, and felt that I could not have raised my hand to my face if my life were the forfeit. Such pouring! i found myself listening behind the rain- behind all the pattering noise--listening for pother sound. I had a grotesque idea that fhe elements and this something that was coming to me, were colleagued to gether, the one to screen the approach of the other. I was listening with every-fiber of my body drawn taut. Listening for what? I did not know. Something beyond, be hind the rain. Then I heard it A sound distinct from the rain patter. A sound emanating from our little drawing room-- a scraping, sawing sound. It came from the front portico. I knew someone was cutting through the Venetian blinds into the house. My faintest doubt vanished soon, when I unmistakably heard the blinds dragged back and the sash creak as it was pushed up. Someone was enter ing the house! In a twinkling my mind was acutely active, and a thousand0 ways of escape surged through my brain in a moment. I unlocked the cabinet and grasped the large pocketbook which con tained the notes, and thrust it into my bosom. I clutched the money6 in my bosom and stepped into the empty fire place. In another moment I "was scram bling up the sooty chimney with the ability of a finished chimney sweep, and I kept scrambling till I had madp a strong hold for myself. What went on down below I did not know. In the cessations of the rain I • could hear the heavy tread passing to and fro in a search, I knew, for that money. But I, from my lofty vantage ground, could only- thank heaven again iand again for nuch a blessed deliverance.' I was so beaumbed with cold and fright that I think I lost consciousness, and aroiild probably hare tumbled down the I love her for .the'love she gives, And think no sweeter "being lives. My naughty jlove! But when she laughs. And" strives .to- puzzle and displease me. When,, merciless, she guys-and ichaffs, And does "her chaBiding best to tease me, 'T!s very; strange' this should befalls TBiat then I love her best of all! j|4 'I-* An iitrshipAluminum. A company has been organized in San jFnmcisco' for the building of an im- imet^e airship,aluminum to be used in its construction. The vessel will be about 260 feet in length over all, and the cylinder Will be 35 feet in diameter :from^tt>e cylilitier. The propelling po\y- ;; er jffijHWSfijf ISO-horse power. The tfrojketors of the'ienterprise , are all ndieto of wealth, . Vv| Wayside-- dat sclgfctific papeir^wW wid, gaw^fiicture^iSfltrfe: WanderingMmy^'li' de i^ettflor"' bis will be dere's Comic iy did yer steal ere wuz lota in' 'round?" ;er read 'bout machinery. "They're talking nowadays" right smart about the great Napoleon," saul Uncle Dan, "but when t'other day the boys asked me who I thought the greatest man, I says 'I don't know. There's Wash ington, an' Alexander, an' Napoleon, an' lots of others, but, my way of thinkin', Old Abe Lincoln is ahead of 'em all.' o "Greatness isn't jest a bein' stern and solemn-like. Now, Uncle Abraham could hoe his row with any of 'em argyin', an' yet some way he had the swing of them old prophets. That struck me when the war broke out, an' afore I knew it 1 caught the fever, carried coal oil lamps around witlj the rest of the crowd, got howlin' about John Brown's body inolder ing in the ground, and 'By JinlSs,' says 1: 'I'll jine!' "Of course, Billy must stay at home to plow and sow and make the corn and hay. HeM just turned fifteen, but as I marched away, blest if there wasn't ma cryin' in his arms, an' Billy yellin' like mad, 'I want a chance to strike for liberty!' Bless me again! in less than a year if I didn't hear one day that Billy had enlisted, too. "How I watched that boy! Sometimes praying when he kept by my side in bat tle, sometimes swearing, too, maybe, when he exposed himself too carelessly. At Vicksburg he fell back, crushed and maimed by the parapet fire, and I took him in my arms and bore him back, an', hftlf crazy with fears, dashed at the fort again. Well, he rallied from the wound, but somehow he never seemed so sound as before. There was a wandering strange ness in his manner, like lie didn't 'zactly know his mind, and one night, when skir mishes were daily, an' Sherman an' Hood was trying to get the chance for a win ning fight, Billy was placed on picket duty where danger hovered thick. I told him to keep his eyes wide open, but after I'd got into my blanket in camp I couldn't sleep."-1 took my gun and hurried silent ly to the outposts, reached a spot close underneath the hill, and my heart stopped, for there wa8 a scuffle, a cry, and I saw the forms of half a hundred men. It wan't no time to think. 1 raised my gun. The good old musket rang out the alarm, the rebels turned and ran. The boy? There he lay, his form stretched out upon the ground, asleep at his post! He turned to me an' put his arm around me lovingly. 'I couldn't help it, dad/ he said, smiling his old boyish smile, and marched away between the guards. I begged, I plead, I swore that Billy wasn't like himself. No use. The sen- tence game. I appealed to the generals. X got only one answerT *The death sen tence of .the court has been approved.' Then'I went to Washington to see the President, "It was my last hope. They wouldn't let me in. They even pushed me back as a carriage drove up. I saw who got out: smiling gently, said, 'We'll let the other fellows do the killing. I think the coun try will get along with this young fellow running 'round alive.' And then he wrote: 'This sentence disapproved. Restored to his company. A. Lincoln.' Just there ! lost my grip. 1 only cried like a baby. 'Yon tell your boy,' says he, 'I count on him to fight.' - w '- u,. v-..- *.• . • "In six months Billy stood upon the roll as second corporal. Then he became color bearer of the regiment. We marched through Georgia until we faced the guns of Fort McAlister. A charge was order ed, but at first the rebels fired at such a rate that the ranks wavered. Billy, with face aflame, carried the flag far up in the advance. 'Bring back the colors to the regiment!* cried the colonel. Amid the crack and crash of the guns, the boy re plied, 'You bring the regiment to the colors!' Then, with shouts and cheers, the brigade rushed madly on, and before they fairly sensed it, the day was won. "Billy had gone down. They had to pry his fingers loose from the flag. There young girl could have dismissed the haunt ing memory of her old lover. The possi bility that she had wronged him, that he might reappear, that he loved her still, haunted fier so persistently that she took to her bed. Her death speedily followed. Lincoln's grief was intense. He was seen walking alone by the river and through the woods, muttering strange things to himself. He seemed to his friends to be in the shadow of madness. They kept a close watch over him; and at last Bowl ing Green, one of the most devoted friends Lincoln then had, took him home to his little log cabin, half a mile north of New Salem, under the brow of a big bluff. Here, under the loving care of Green and his good wife, Nancy, Lincoln remained until he was once more master of himself. But though he had regained self-con trol, his grief was deep and bitter. Ann Ilutledge was buried in Concord Ceme tery, a country burying ground, seven miles northwest of New Salem. To this lonely spot Lincoln frequently journeyed to weep-over her grave. "My heart is 77Tm, SAW LINCOLN SHOT. ONE WHO WITNESSED GREAT TRAGEDY. THE Story of the Man Who Was the First to Heach the Side of the Wounded President--His Clothing Stained br the Blood of the Martyr. ' "ONLY A SOLDIBR? COME IN, MY MAN." was a smile on his face a thousand years can't make me forget. 'Redeemed at last,' the general came and said, and placed his name among the heroes. They wrap ped the Stars and Stripes around my son. When they put him in his new uniform that night, they found his treasures, and buried there," he said to one of his friends. Strange to say, McNamar prov ed to be an honest man and a faithful though careless lover. An 0 by hand." r _ I tried to .attract his attention. 'Who is e'W&^l^'Uve in when I this man?' says he. 'Only a spldier after w *>•»«* I an interview,' eays the offiper. 'Only a soldier?' Says he. musingly. 'Periling his life! Only a soldier, fighting the battles of this awful war! Thank God! to speak to me you need no other name. Only soldier? Come in, my man.' And he led me up the stairs, while ministers and gen erals waited outside. I told him, with sobs half choking me. the story of my grief. His face was sad Mr. Jones' Valentine. «* % r \ C . s * 1 with' blissful joy divine, It was no ooiplc valeiittne, Nor yet a t^tpg of crimps and laces. Of furbelow^Tnjd^Giipid JfspeB. Ah! Is his ticket one that wins? More, more, tur friend--a pair of twina 'I TOOK HIM IN MY ARMS AND BORE HIM . PACK." and furrt>wed, "and he bowed his head as he listened. He looked over the pa pen carefully. Then he turned, and HIS FORM STRHTOHED OUT UPON THE GROUND. among the rest was a picture of Old Abe, and written on its back were the words, prophecy, 'I've fought, great friend, and died for liberty!' " LINCOLN'S SWEETHEART. She Was a Beautiful Kentucky Girl and Had Many Suitors. Lincoln first met Ann Mayes Rutledge in 1832, when she was 19. She was a beautiful girl and as bright as she was pretty. So fair a maid was not, of course without suitors. The most determined of those who sopght her hand was one John McNeill, a young man who had ar rived in New Salem from New York soon after the founding of the town. Ann be came engaged to McNeill^ but it was de cided to put off marriage on account of Ann's youth. After awhile McNeill left for his home in the East, saying that he would return in time with his parents. Then it cameyout that McNeill's real name was McNamar. The New Salem people pronounced him an impostor. A few let ters were received from him by Ann, but finally the lover ceased to write to her. In the spring of 1835 Ann agreed to be come Lincoln's wife. New Salem took a cordial interest in the two lovers, and presaged a happy life for them, and all would undoubtedly have gone well if the THE IMMORTAC LINCOLN. Apotheosis in His Memorable First Inaugural. In an epoch of convulsion and cataclysm and chaos Abraham Lincoln was intro duced into presidential power. He held to the syllogistic and spurned figurative speech. No fustian- found favor in his prejudices. Coming to the end of his first inaugural, Lincoln reached these words: "In your hands, my fellow countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being your selves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the Gov erument, while I shall ̂ have the most sol emn one to preserve, protect and defend it" I am loath to close. We are not ene mies, but friends. We must not be ene mies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched as surely they will be, by the better an gels of our nature." t; Lincoln's Trust in God. "What I did I did after a very full de liberation and under a very heavy and solemn sense of responsibility," said Lin coin with reference to the emancipation proclamation. "I can only trust in God I have made no mistake. I shall make no attempt on this occasion to sustain what I have done or said by any comment. It is hoW for the country and the world to pass judgment, and may be take action upon it." A Natural Phenomenon. A party of woodchoppens recently cut down a fine white oak tree near South Charleston, O., which was at least three and a half feet in diameter and seemingly solid. They found, how ever, before cutting very far, that it was hollow. They then cut around it a few Inches deep. % It fell,1 when it was discovered that there was a black, charred snag inside about fifteen feet •high, showing that ages ago it was burned, but enough vitality remained at the roots to grow amew tree. The tree is remembered by the oldest in habitants and it was very large even fifty years ago. The supposition Is that it was burned by the Indians. Looking a difficulty square In the face will often kill it dead. Our Nation's Darkest Day. There now lives in Philadelphia a gen tleman who saw the whole scene of Lin coln's assassination, and was the first to reach the wounded man in the prevailing panic. William Flood is the gentleman's name, and he gave the following graphic account, which is taken down in his ex act words: "At the time the President was shot," s.aid he in answer to a query, "I was in the United States navy and was acting en- gign and executive officer on board the Steamship Teazer. Captain Silas Owen was the commander, and the,ship was lo cated at the navy yard on April 14. That evening Captain Owen, who had been over in the city during the day, came to the ship and suggested that we go to the theater that evening, as Laura Keene was to play 'Our American Cousin,' and the President was to be there. We went to the theater and secured seats in the parquet or orchestra chairs. The Presi dent occupied the second box up from the orchestra and second from the stage. Just as the curtain fell on the first act I heard a shot and saw a man jump from the President's box to the stage. As he jump ed his foot caught in the folds of the flag that draped the box, and he fell sideways on the stage. It was quite a good jump, and he came very near falling back into the orchestra.." He got up and limped away acros^ the stage, brandishing a great long knife in his right hand, and shouted," 'Sic semper tyrannis.' In less time than it takes to tell it I was on the stage. . How., I got there over the heads of the orchestra I really don't remember. Just as I reached the stage Mrs. Lincoln looked out of the box. She was crying and wringing her hands and said: 'They Have shot papa; will no one come?' I answered that I would come, and immediately climbed up the side of the boxes to the one the Preside'nt occu pied. The President was sitting as if he had fallen asleep. He was breathing, however, and we at once laid him on the floor of the box. I looked for the wound, but at first did not discover it. Miss Keene brought a pitcher of water and I bathed his forehead with that so as to re vive him. I then discovered the wound in the back of his head, where the ball had entered, and the blood ran out on my arm and down the side of my coat. Some armr officers brought in a stretcher and he was placed on that and carried out. I then went to the front of the box and motion ed for the audience to remain quiet. Every one was talking, and there was a general uproar. As soon as it^ceased for a minute told them that the President was still alive, but had been shot, and was no doubt mortally wounded. • Captain Owens and I then went out to the front of the building and found a platoon of police in the street The sidewalks were so crowded With people that we had to get out in the middle of the road to get down the street. We went to the National Hotel, and by the time we got there the mob was so dense we could get no further, so a couple of police took us through the hotel to C street, at the rear, and we got a cab and were driven to the navy yard. I was so bloody from the wound, my right hand and arm being covered, that it is a wonder that I was not hanged by that mob. They were intensely excited at the time, and it wfiuld have taken very little to have driven them into a frenzy. ; "The next day our ship went down the river to head Booth off, and did not return until after he was killed. 1^ was then sent for to go down and identify him. recognized him very readily as he jumped from the box as J. Wilkes Booth. "The Reds of the Midi" has gone Into a fifth edition. Admiral A. H. Markham has written an account of his journey through the- Far North for .the Youth's Companion. The title of George Macdonald's new novel Is "A Slave to Sin: The Story of a Minister." It will be published in the autumn of 1897. ~ ^ "" Pierre Loti's new book Is a novel" en titled ^'Le Ramontcho," the scene of which is laid in the French Pyrenees. It will be published in the Revue de Paris.- » Having retired from service, Capt Maban \vill prepare, it is reported, an other volume of "The Influence of the •weirUpoirHistory." I n this vol ume the period considered will be be tween *1812 and 1815. Lady Jane Henrietta Swinburne, mother of Algernon Charles Swinburne, the poet, died recently. . She was , the widow of Admiral Charles Henry SWin- biirne and daughter of George, the third Earl of Asbburnhaig. It is reported that "Treasure Island" (which E. C. Stedman says he reads once a year regularly) was read by Mk> Gladstone when first published, and that one of his family has had to re- read lt two or three times since to keep up with him in discussing the different methods of the many murders. Among the Sir Richard Burton man uscripts which had been unpublished when Lady Burton died, was a volume of African travels, "A History of the Gypsies," "The Book of the Sword," and two additional volumes from Ca- moens. These works have been placed in the bands of Mr. Wilkins to edit and prepare for publication, and they are to be brought out some time within the next two years. The latest literary novelty--an inno vation as regards both journalistic mat-1 ter and manner--is Phyllida; or, the _ Milkmaid,, a "bi-weekly devoted to lit erary topics and reflections upon the doings of the town," published by Ge- Iett Burgess and Porter. Garnett, both of "Les Jeunes," who have been respon sible for the Lark. The Milkmaid aims to revive the short, personal form of essay affected by Addison and his con temporaries, and will exploit the claims of California writers to consideration by literary critics. The Tree. The Christmas tree was almost un known in England until introduced by Prince Albert from Its home, in Ger many. The vegetable creation hae re tained many features of loveliness apart from these decorations. The "naked majesty" of the oak, the gracefulness of "the cold-place loving birch," and the willow, whose pendent branches "trembling touch the water's brink" elicit the admiration of the observer while, with the exception of the larch, the numerous species of fir and pine retain their leaves, and variegate the disrobed grove with their unfading ver dure; Talleyrand never was In love but once, and that was when he was about 16 years old. When Napoleon ordered him to marry and picked out a Wife for him, he pleaded this youthful attach ment, which was Immediately scoffed at by the great match-maker as a piece of nonsense. A Cobbler Prince. Custom forces the crowned heads of Europe to remain mere amateurs in the arts, professions or trades they fan cied in youth, or which they were ob liged to practice, owing to the prac tical ideas of wise parents, who may have foreseen that thrones have a way of disappearing in these enlightened days. Queen Marguerite of Italy is a fine musician, and could earn her liv ing as a music teacher; the Czar of Russia is an expert cabinet maker, and has made two or three excellent vio lins, while the Kaiser of Germany is said to be a jack of all trades and a pastmaster of all arts. He can make anything from a drama and a painting to a line-of-battle ship. But it remains for the world to hear of a royal shoe maker in the person of the Prince of Wales. A Russian nobleman turned cobbler in the person of Count Leon Tolstoi, and, according to the London Women at Home, it has now been discovered that Albert Edward, Prinee of Wales, heir-apparent to the throne of Great; Britain, can turn QUt a pair of patent' leathers or hunting boots with the best of English shoemakers. The Queen of England and the Prince Consort It appears, wished that each of their children should learn some useful trade or occupation, and the Prince of Wales chose shoemaking for his trade, and acquired such a degree of proficien cy that boots made by his hands were the pride of his fellow ^workmen, as they were the envy of his friends at court. The Prince has never sought to conceal his talent, and even to-day examines with the eye of a connoisseur the shoes sent him by the furnishers. And that Is why Albert Edward is the best-shod man in England.--New York Journal. Electricity Astonished Him. B-r-r-r-rup! The trolley car started off with a jerk and the strange^.from Cohoes sat down with a snap, fie got up in a hurry, felt of himself anxiously, felt of the seat curiously, peered undet the seat inquisitively and look-id up thq hole where the stovepipe used to be, vacantly. "Well, I swan!" he said. "What's wrong?" asked the conduc tor, with sympathy. "Wall, I'd like to know haow in com mon sense you heat that'ere car?" ha said.. ! : \ : . . ' 'Tricity," said the conductor. "Trlcity, eh? Wall, I swau! Great thing, that 'trlcity, hain't it? Fust it shoves you, then it lights you, and »aow it cooks you! Anythin' else in th'3<'tric ity line, young man?"--New York Worid. • • ••• Automatic Restaurants. An automatic restaurant has been opened in Berlin, where, by dropping coins in a slot, the dishes are sent up on a tray. Rolls, wine and coffee are now served, and more elaborate dishes are to follow. The it^rentor is an Ital ian, and the novel scheme is attract ing great attention. Domestic Science. In Germany there i- .e schools of do mestic science where every detail of housekeeping is thoroughly taught to the girl pupils, and ho diploma is is sued until "the girl has proved herself an expert Luminous Inks. ^ Luminous inks may now be used to print signs to be visible In the dark. Zinc salts and calcium are the medi-i ums generally used. During the last century an original copy of Magna Charta, seals, signa tures and . all, was found in the hands of a tailor who was about to cut it up for patterns. • • V: A Parisian dentist filled a hole in an " elephant's tooth the size of a silver dol lar with composition and tia. St fe1:' m; A wi. 'XWi