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p. .‘l" c ‘ ‘ ._._.__ 'h {a -.__.__ w. â€"- _â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€" -â€" s, loops of sugar and place ever the ire. Blend l two large tablespoonfuls of cornztarch in a i very little water, and add, when boiling, . . l stirring briskly for a few moments, until it A Wifes Infinince' I becomes thickened. Pour into a good un- A good wife brings to her husband wis- j undercrustz The amount makes two medi- don), strength; a 1nd wife confusion, weak- lulu-sized pies, and may be enriched by add- " HOUSEHOLD. nose, and despair Make a frosting of the No condition becomes hopeless so long as whites of the eggs beaten with powdered «ing a little butter. a man's wife possesses firmness, decision and 1 sugar- ll sense OI U111: CCOIlOflly. to her wise touch in the threatening seats of bankruptcy, while her face the dear beau-.1- lIersteudfastucss ‘ is his ballast, her resolution his anchor, and quart of the best l-cr prudent expenditures the tiller ropesj that make the storm~beatcn vessel answer 8 through the sieve Wit-h :p'cce of butter the 5128 of an egg throuwh i the flour and rub it through so thorouglfiy Marin: Scmr. Ersatzâ€"Measure out a- llour; add thieetable spoonfuls of baking powder and sift it the flour. Rub a {'11: homely face full 0f the divine light 05 1 that some portion of the butter touches promise, is the one gleaming star in the ' . any baking-powder or of a soda biscuit de- . [pends upon care at this point. if from want. of care the ballast rolltrom lpint of rich, new milk. side to side; if the anchor break the rope of mass, which should be a soft, dough. clouded heavens above him. But if a foolish hand be at. the wheel; wrak intention and no star gleam amid the angrvstorm clouds, then straightway into the deep and driving seas of disaster goes the little barquc, bearing its human freight to destruction. No spirit, however true or strong, can en- dure bad influences for long. or withstand them altogether. Rarely does a stroke of lightning fell the monarch of the forestâ€" but often is a great tree weakened by r. host of tiny, insidious, gnawing insects, until it falls, and lies a useless, rotten log upon the surface of the earth. Man is strong, but his heart is not adamant; and, like the tower- ing tree, the little stings and bores and fret- tings of everyday will in time lay him low. Man needsa tranquil mind to offset his own, so filled at. times with anxiety and fear. IIis responsibility masz him a prey to dread, and he needs the antidote that comes or should come, in the shape of a peaceful home existence. He needs the moral force that only a true wife can give. In his conflict. with the world. To rest after each day’s battle, he needs a-place full of a pervading sense of peace and harmony; Thus his soul regains its wasted strength, and goes forth on the morrow with renewed vigor to begin again its battles with the world. But if at home he find no rest : if he en- counter dark looks and angry words â€"- if gloom o'ershadow the lovely light. of home, and jealousy dwell therein, then is the brave spirit. done to death, and beneath complaint and censure, he sees hope vanish, and him- self sink down, down into that awful abyss of dissipation that has engulfed so many promising souls. Rainy Day Amusements- If you wish to provide endless amusement for cross and idle children during the rainy and stormy days of the long winter months, let them make a scrap screen out of colored pictures. Not only will it. insure occupation and interest during its construction, but it will be a valuable acquisition for the nur- sery, affording constant entertainment for dawning intelligence. To make this desir- able article. you will first purchase a rather low clotheshorse, and, cutting off one pan- el, leave only three to be covered. Thcn wet some unbleached muslin, after sewing the brcidths together, and nail it on both sides, top and bottom, ofthe rods, laying it. very smooth. In drying it will shrink some- what, and thus stretch taut and smooth. After it is quite dry you must “ size ” it, just as the paperhangers prepare a wall be- fore hanging the paper ; this is done by makin a paste of flour, and adding two and one-ha f ounces of gum arable which has been dissolved in hot water. Make the paste sufliciently thin to allow of applying it with a brush to the cloth. Paint both sides, allow them to dry, and then give them another coat. Your screen is now ready for the pictures. It. is a good plan to keep one side for the black and white prints, and the other for colored pictures. Let the children collect together every scrap of colored pictures they can obtain--â€" nothing comes amissâ€"old picture-books, bygone Christmas supplements to the pic- toral papersâ€"«pretty or ugly, they all serve to make an interesting jumble. Keep all your colored prints in one drawer and the black and white ones in another. It. may take a month or two to finish the screen, so do not work too fast ; keep it. for rainy days when there is nothing else to do, and it will prove to be quite a godsend in the way of nursery amusements. In pasting on the pictures remember that the edges should all overlap, so as to cover the entire ancl. Cut them out, mingling figures, bits 0 land- scape, flowers, animals, anything and every- thing all mixed together. If you have large figures it is wcll to place them on first and then fill in around them. Keep small things such as Christmas cards, etc., for the bord- ers ; cut out all the edges so that the pic- tures mcrgc together. It is astonishing how harmonious such a homogeuous collection may be made to tell. The black and white side of the screen may be treated in the same way, and when all is complete varnish both sides and finish the edges with any pretty binding you choose. Red leather looks well and adds to the gay effect of the screen. It- may be at on wtth small brass~ headed nails. Chih rcn never tire of these screens. “'hen baby begins to “ take no- tice ” it is one of the first things he turns to pointing to this and that familiar object with the greatest pleasure. The little in- valid, too findsa languid enjoyment in trac- ing out familiar objects as he lies in bed. Moreover, screens of all kinds are most use- ful in a nursery in keeping out droughts from open doors. etc. For Baking Day. every portion of the flour. The success of Now add 3 Stir it into the Add a cup of maple sugar, cut up into irregular dice, about the size of peas. Dredge a board ; turnout the dough. Dredge flour over it, and roll it as quickly as possible till it is about an inch thick. Cut out the bis- cuit cutter, not over two or two and a quarter inches in diameter. Bake from twelve to fifteen minutes in avery hot oven, ' Serve these biscuits hot. PLAIN GanER Commasâ€"Mix one egg- one cupful of sugar, one table spoonful each of ginger and vinegar and a little salt. Put one teacupful of molasses in a basin and set on the stove. “firm it boils addone tablespoouful of soda, previously dissolved in a little boiling water. Stir the hot mix- ture into the cold and add flour enough to make a stiff dough. SMALL FRUIT Carinaâ€"One pint of granu' latcd sugar, one very scant cupful of butter: four eggs (leaving out the whites of two‘: ! one cupful of milk, one teaspoonfnl 0f 1 cloves, one generous tablespoonful of ciu' namon, one cupful of dried curt-ants, one- half cupful of seeded raisins, one-half cup- ful of finely shredded Citron, two teaspoonâ€" ' fuls baking powder and three and one-half cupfuls of flour. Mix butter and sugar to a cream, add beaten yolks and spice, then milk and part of the flour then beaten whites. Stir the baking powder into the flour. Reserve one cupful to mix with fruit. Beat in the rest, then add the floured fruit. Bake in small tins of any desired shape and utilize the whites left over for frosting. â€"â€"â€"-°â€"â€"â€"-â€"-â€" £9.de Criticism If a man’a foes are those of his own house- hold, certainly a woman’s severest critics are to be found there also. Few of us realize how surely our words and actions are being weighed and measured by the/observers, large and small, who surround us. We are unconscious of the judgments passed because they are usually silent ones. When they ' happen to be spoken out instead of only thought, we are taken aback, and some- times appalled, at the arraignment and sent- . ence of which we had been entirely unaware. It; is the privilege of the family critic to be ruthlessly frank. Politeness is unneces- sary, and consideration for the feelings of the condemned one ridiculously inappropri- ate. The strictures are given carelessly and freely, and offence at the plain speaking is a contingency never imagined. | “ It is only Jennie : she always says what she thinks.” “ No one minds Will; be al- . ways speaks out.” ” Oue’s family, of course, ' And wedded joys, how sweet are they, 1 may say anyting.’ And why, pray. i Children are the most terrible of family critics. They see so straight. Your “ no” to them means “ no,” and your “ yes,” “ yes." You cannot deceive them with half truths, or by a juggle of words. They out through your subterfuge and convict you at once. 3 Their straightforward simplicity makes you ' ashamed of your falsehood. E And of all critics a boy is the eruelest, - He is no respector of vanities or Shams. His cool questions and downright remarks make you writhe while you laugh, and laugh while you burn. 1 One of this sort, aged fifteen, asked lately, i " Have you got a sinewy neck momma ‘3” “ Gracious l”--with a start. “ What- do you mean ‘2” “ Why”â€"-â€"an inquiring and observing ex- pression in his eyes â€"“ I read the other day that all literary women have got siuewy necks. It said one could alway 5 tell ’em that way. It was a never-failing test. Did you ever notice it?” ' “ Never !’ hastily. “ You will have to judge for yourself. I’m sure I don’t know.” “ \Vell,” meditatively, “ I think, per- haps, it. is true.” What answer can be given to such refresh- nig candor ‘2â€"[From Harper’s Bazar. l --.__ .._._... ~_ ._ The Columbian Tower. I After much uncertainty and discussion, it has been definitely decided, so says En- gineering, that a high tower shall form one of the conspicuous attractions of the exhibi- tion at Chicago in 1893. We do not under- i stand that this work is any portion of the ‘ official plan ; but that, on the contrary, iti is made the subject of a concession to the' capitalists who provide the necessary funds and expect to gain a large return. We think it a matter of regret that an exhibition so original in all its encral features should be marred by the at aptat-ion of an ideaâ€"i though absolutely novel and successful at Paris in MSGâ€"from another exhibition. But. this isa matter of opinion, and it. is eminently satisfactory to note that the Columbian tower has dcen designed by so eminent. an engineer as Mr. Gcor eS. Mori- son, of New York and Chicago. t is stated that the capital will be furnished by Mr. Carnegie. We are without details at pre~ This is the scasbu, if ever, when the cook sent 0’ “Ii? interesting work, hilt we publish may get ahead with her work and set aside 0- perspective View Of the general (19318"- a store of cooked food sutlicicnt for several The tower will be higher than that of Eiffel Saturda - was the old fashioned l by more than 150 feet, and, Mr. Morison do '8. halting day an many housekeepers yct cling to the custom of providing an that day enough to last through washing and ironing days. HARD (itsuxnnnuan. «One pint of molas- es, one table: ocnfnl of gin er, one ten- spoonful of sat : boil toget or, add one teaspoouful of soda and flour enough to knead. Knead ten minutes, or until smooth land shiny. Cut. in rounds and bake quick- v. Fianna rouCAxs.-â€"Take onehalf pound of fig: and one cup of rairins. Cut the figs in halves and steam the raisins half an hour then chop them both while the raisins are warm. Beat. the white of an egg to a mid froth and add to the fruit together with two-thirds of a cup of nulatcd sugar and one trampoonful of mi la. Pans Limos Pub-«To the grated rind and juice of two lemons add two cups of cold water, the beaten jokes of two eggs, two has been no slavish imitator of Eifl'el's beau- tiful structure. There is not much time to complete the work, and no doubt many dif- ticulties will be met with both as rcgards‘ foundations and the rigorous winter seasons but we may feel conndent that. American skill and energy will carry through the work to a. successful conclusion by the 3 ring of 189: . Indeed. we are informed t lat Mr. Carnegie asserts the work will be completed in six months after it is com- menced. The weight of steel is 6,000 tons. Is an Unexpected Fashion. First Cowboy-Sa , is Red Peter the Ter- mr around Poker Gu ch yeti Second Cowboy-Oh, no ; feller got the drop on him last fall. “ Yer don't say. Must-shave been a blamed good man to t away with Pete.” “ Good nothin‘ l e was a darn sher- 'II ,, To-Morrow. “Ab wait,” he cries, “but a little long- Cl."-â€" The young eyes glowing with holy fire;â€" “And man through me shall grow purer, stronger; My words shall echo, my deeds inspire. It lifts man’s soul from its weight of sor- rowâ€" , The Goodâ€"the Beautyâ€"I dream and plan ; ' There comes to ~morrow, and then to-mor- row, - And yet to-morrow, and I a man.” By the cliff whence the waves their gray gloom borrow The sweetest of sweet voiced Echoes lay, And murmured, “ Tomorrow ! To-morrowl To-morrow l” \Vas there a thrill as of mocking laugh- ter, ' Soundinglong after, And dying away? The swift years speed and hislifc is Duty :â€" Ab, the old-time light in the eyes is dead :â€" “ I am faithful still to my dream of Beauty ; To-morrow, to-morrow is mine 2” he said. By the cliff whence the waves their gray gloom borrow The sweetest of sweet-voiced Echoes lay, And murmured, “ To-morrow is mine ! To~ morrow l”â€" . Was there a thrill as of mocking laughter, Sounding long after, And dying away ? The sw1ft years speed and the light is fal- hug; Tne dim eyes turn to the misty west ; The white head droops, and he stands be- wailingâ€" Earth’s wearied, dejected, disheartened guest. “ Too late ! There will be no morrow’s greet- ing; . Of my grand, great work but the ruined shell ; A norm or omen neuron l A telegraph operator in knocking about, I the country is apt. to see and learn a great i deal if he keeps his eyes open. Itis noti generally conceded, but the fact is that; telegraph operators are almost as great: travelers as compositors or hatter-s. Opers~ matted roots; suddenly and without. sayin a word he drew out a glass battery jar, an in a second more another. In the jars was the mimin money. I never saw a happier man than c was. The next morning he rs. turned to Chicago with me with a light heart. He accounted for his sudden inspira- tion to search the creek bank, in this way : tors seldom take to the road and tramp it, As he lay upon the floor thinking, in a half like batters or typos, being a little more aesthetic in their tastes and modes of travel 4 but they manage to get around the world ' pretty well for all that. i YCnl‘S back, in Chicago, a character used to haunt the telegraph offices who was as near being a genuine tramp as any brass- pounder I ever knew. He first attracted my attention by the look of utter hopeless des. pair that always clouded his face. He looked as though he was living simply to meet the time appointed for him to die. He made, no effort to obtain work, and seemed to live solely upon the quarters and half dollars that were given him in pity. I asked him once when he requested a quarter if I had it to spare: “ Why don’t you geta “ sit ’ if you know your business ; you claim to be an operator?” “ I can’t do it, my friend. If I was the best operator that ever touched a key, I could not get a situation." “ Why not? is there something against you ‘2” ' “ Unfortunately there is.” ‘:’If it’s not too hard a question, what is it? “ That I don’t care to say, but I will say that it’s something that I am in no way to . blame for, and could not have helped if I had known. If you can spare a quarter, all right : if not I can starve a little more, or go without a drink a little longer. I’m used to doing both.” I gave him thequarter, and with a “ thank you,” he went away. I asked the boys about him, but none of them could give me ’ . any information further than that they knew t I "him to be a good operator: that he was called Jim, and that he could not get a situ- ation if he tried, and therefore had given up trying. _ In the course of time I gave up the key I have always dreamed, as the years were . and sounder and took a. reportorial position flee tin g, ion a morning paper. One night in going, ‘ There is yet to-morrow !’ ”â€"The dark through the morgue to see what had been! night fell. By the cliff whence the waves their black gloom borrow The sweetest of sweet-voiced Echoes lay; ‘Tberc is yet to-m'orrow l” she echoed, “ To- , morrow l"â€" Was there a thrill as of tender sadness, Changing to gladness, And dying away? â€"[Charlotte W. Thurston, in the Overland. The Three Ages. My dears, when I was young like youâ€" 0, days that long ago took wing !â€" I had your wit, your sweetness, too, And loved, like you. the Spring. Fondly do I‘ remember still How dear to me were fields and flowers ; How dear the hearts in lighter hours Made a captive in the gay quadrille; A merry child like you, my dears, And such was I at fifteen years. Later, my heart, less wild and gay, To one devout espousnl moved ; To love and to be loved l But sometimes pensive and apart, I prayed in secret sighs to heaven, That some dear angel might be given To stir in me a mother’s heart: Wife and fond mother, too, 2y clears, And such was I at thirty years. 0 Later ! Onward still and on Time flies, like an advancing wave, And Summer, Autumn, both are gone, With all the joys they gave ! Yet, while we droop with age and pain, The heart that to our babes we give In their sweet innocence may live, And with their babes be young again ; And such am I at. length, my dears, With my full span of eighty years. â€"[Geor2e Cotterell, in the Argosy. The Pullman Porter- Porter of the palace car How we wonder where you are 2 “’hen you cannot well be spared. thndfor a game of cards we’re squar- e , . Or when we want our berth prepared, We cannot see you e’en afar, Prince of the Pullman palace car. Porter of the palace car How we wonder where .you are? When we’re tucked in snug and tight Ready to put out the light, To our rings you’re out of sight. Can it be there is a bar, On the Pullman palace car? Porter of the palace car Early as the morning star Will cur berth be rudely shaken. " Come, we’re there; you’d better wak- en.” Thus our high-priced rest is taken ; We know now just where you are, Prince of the Pullman palace car. Porter of the palace car, In the morning, there you are : “'hisp our clothes for half a. minute Because you see a quarter in it, And you quickly mean to win it, Greater than railway kin , by far, Prince of the Pullman pa ace car. â€"[Ths Middleman. Rain and Tears. I wait the coming of a tardy train, And while I wait the leaves of thought unfold, The day is dismal and the wind is cold ; The ceaseless patter of the drizzling rain, That dfrips and drops its dreary, sad re- rain, _ Still chants the burden of a grief untold, And in the sky gray clouds of gloom are rolled Till they dissolve in tears to earth again. So him my heart, whore summer used to l A wintry sky the sombre landscape bloom. Has nature, then, imposed her mood on me And fun I and because she and appears? 01', looking through my own grie , do I see The earth transfigured through the rain of fear: 3 themes Status. 1 gathered from the river and lake, I stopped i beside one of the slabs, for the face of its! occupant seemed familiar, I stood racking my brain to place the face, when it suddenly 3 occurred to me where I had seen the face , before, and involuntarily exclaimed half aloud, “ Jim the operator.” “ Yes, that’s poor Jim,” said a voice at my side, and I turned to see a member of E the detective force standing at my elbow. I i had a slight acquaintance with the detec- i tive, so I asked him, “ Did you know him ‘2” “ Yes, I knew him and all about his case. That poor fellow was gripped by circum- , stances so strong that he could not break: the hold. His story is a. strange one and 3 may be of interest to you, as a newspaper i man. Come over to the cafe and I’ll tell it to you. ” We went over, and after getting comfor- tably seated, he said : “ About six years ago I got orders from .- headquarters to go out to a. little railroad station about a. hundred miles from the city . and take the operator into my custody. i There was ten thousand dollars missing, and l I was to bring in the operator and money if i I could, but bring the operator anyway. These are the circumstances: “ The station was a small one, and only an operator and freight agent. were employ- ed there, but there was considerable freight i handled there, and it was a pay station, where many men were paid off each month. The railroad company would send the money j to pay off with to the freight agent, who was a thoroughly trustworthy man, a day or so before pay-day, so that he could get his ' pay roll made out and the money for eachl man in envelopes. This particular month they sent the money as usual. The next morning they got word that the freight agent had been killed while coupling cars, and that the money could not be found. Then I was sent out there. The balance of the story is as Jim told it to me, and though I have no positive proof to back his state- ments, I believed him. “He said that the money was always a source of considerable worry to the freight agent and himself from the time it arrived until it was paid out. The company placed this responsibility upon them, but did not even give them atafe to help them keep the trust. There were a good many hard characters about them among the train men, and the pay-money was some- thing of a temptation. This time when the money arrived he saw the agent put it in a couple of battery jars and just after night- fall go out with it. He asked where he was going, and the agent replied to hideit some- where, so they would not run the risk of having it stolen. Jim never saw him alive after he left the ofiice. Ho evidently hid the money somewhere, came back and went to work helping'm‘ake up a train; a few moments after while coupling cars his foot slipped, or he made a miscalculation in the dark, and was jammed between the buffers and killed instantly. ” I telegraphed the particulars as Jim gave them to the ofiice, and they replied to give him two days in which to produce the money, and at the expiration of that time bring him in money or not. Jim was power- less and nearly crazy ; he declared that he had no more idea where the money was than I had. 'vVe searched everywhere, but of course without success. The time was up, but Jim begged hard for me togive him one more day, and the boy was so deadly in earnest that I finally agreed to stay aday more. That day, like the others, was spent in fruitless searching. At night, ut- terly worn out and broken down, Jim threw himself down upon the floor beneath the office window and lay staring at nothing with a blanket rolled up for a pillow. He had lain there about an hour, and I was thinkin what a bad scrape the poor cha was in fir I believed in him, when he su . denly sprang to his feet, white and trembl- ing. " Get a lantern nick and come with me ; I believe I can fin it. " I got a lantern, but I thought that. it was only another fruitless bunt. We went. out and he headed straight fora small creek that ran a few hundred yards from the station. At the bank of the creek he looked eagerly up and down. . “ here are the tree roots, do you see any 2" be asked. . " \Ve walked along the bank a short. dis- tance and came ton. large tree that had been undermined by the washing away of the bank and fallen into the drier. “ ‘ Here, let's look here, and he commen- ced searching in among the gnarled and conscious way, he listened to the wind ratt~ ling the window above him. At first he paid no attention to the meaningless rattle, but. suddenly he became aware, or thought he did, that the rattling window spelled out in the Morse alphabet, ‘ Roots creek bank.’ The first time he paid no attention to it. but the second time that the window rattled the words it suddenly struck him that. it might be a sign from his dead friend. Ready to grasp at any straw be searched and found the money. I tardly know what to make of the story, but I know we had the money. "Jim told the whole story at the office and I backed him up as far as I could, but the superintendent coolly replied : “ A very neat story, but we thought you'd pro- duee the money. You ma ' consider your- self fortunate that we don t. prosecute you ; as it is you are discharged and can .” “That is all there was to it. black -listed and could never get another job, if he did the story would follow him it seemed with a devilish ersistency, and he would be discharged. There is practically but one telegraph company in this country, and if you get black-listed you might as well change your occupation. Jim could not seem to do that and just went topicces. You see the end of him over there on the sla ."â€"[Edwiu Ralph Collins in “ Texas ' Siftings.” READ HER RUIN IN A NOVEL. Aj‘amlly in Vienna Broken lip by Realistic Literature. The possibilities of tho Ibsen-Tolstoi cur- rent. in literature in affecting real life were . illustrated remarkably in the District Crim- 3 incl court of Leopoldst-adt, Vienna, some two weeks ago. The complainant was a dry-goods merchant, August Klein. His wife had been forced to her ruin six years since by the prisoner, a letter-carri er, who had gained access to her parlor in her hus- band B absence. The story of the wife’s six years’ silence and the breaking of it were told thus in court: J udgo (to wife): “I must say you have taken a long time to come to your confession. Having held your peace until now it were better had you never spok- en.” Mrs. Klein: "I was silent for shame. " Judge (to husband): “How came she to con- fess to you?” Mr. Klein: "We were reading a novel, a realistic novel about. divorce. In i it a. libertine displayed the. loading part: and. forced a young wife to ruin. The stnll‘ was not to my taste and I threw down the book, saying to my wife : “ Such things happen in novels, but never in real life. I looked at .my wife and saw that she was trembling from head to foot and choking back the tears. “Yes, yes, in real life,“ she said. “ No, never,” 1 said. “ Yes," she cried, and fell to the floor, claspiug my knees. “ Yes,” she sobbed, “ it happens in real life, for I, wretched woman, have experienced it.” I thought she had lost. her senses, and tried to pacify her, but she clung to my knees and made her whole dreadful confession. The next day I began proceedings. The law- - yer for the prisoner acknowledged that his client was guilty, as alle ed, but. moved for acquittal on the grouni that, under the statue of, limitations, the letter-carrier’s crime was outlawed. This motion Was granted by the judge. With ashoutof rage, Klein caught his wife by the shoulders, threw her toward the letter-carrier, ex- claiming : “ Take her, you rascal ! take her and her children,” and then hastened from the room. How an Old Proverb Led to an Innocent Man's Conviction. A rather striking case has just been brought before a Vicksburg justice of the peace, says the Arkansaw Traveler. A man named Rathbonc sued one Jackson for time. “ \Vell,” said the justice, when the case was called, "You have brought an action here for time, but you do not specify. Did you give this man Jackson so much of your timcand has he refused to pay you for it?” “ Your honor, this man has had my time and does refuse to pay me. I will explain. I live on the floor just above him, and some time ago bought a fine clock on the install- ment plan. The other day the fellow came around to collect the installment, and it oc- curred to me that, as Jackson could hear the clock strike, he ought to help me pay for it. I looked into the matter and found that he had no clock and I also learned that . his hours were regulated by my timepiece. . Then I told him that he owed me for my time and explained to him, but he refused ' to entertain my claim.” . “Mr. Jackson,” said the judge, “have you no timepiece of your own 2” “ I have not your honor.” “ And have you been telling the time of day by listening to the striking of Mr. Ratbbone’s clock ?" “ \Vcll, yes, but I did not think that it was weariu on the clock. 1 thou ht that while thecock was striking for im it; could just. its well strike for me especially as one set of strikes would do for both fami- lies.” “ But had you intended to get o'clock before Mr. Rathbone bought his?” the jus- tiee asked. “ Well, yes.” The justice reflected a moment and then said: “ Your delay in buying a clock makes you the victim of this action, for the law plainly says, as every schoolboy ou ht to know: ‘I’rocrastination is the thie of time.” You have therefore, stolen this man's time and will have to pay for it or suffer more serious consequences. the damages of. ten dollars." .._.__.._.__ Wharfâ€"Streets are Paved For. Tax-Payerâ€"'l'hat's a very firm and solid piece of paving you’re doing there, Patrick. City ltmployce-Jndade an’ it's a foine pace of worruk ; and mighcy glad nut 0i to see it: “ Why, does it make any difference with you, Patrick 2'” “ Indadc, and it does ; It will give us dooble‘the job a pnllin’ it. up.” PittingAdvice. Bardâ€"I have a poem here on “ nwor,” and I don’t know 'ust where to p c it. What would you vise me to do with it! Pardâ€"Gct it in one of the magazines, of cacaoâ€"{Yunnan Gazette. im was - l assess. “aha-nisxxvmfit‘mfiw. .