The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

:v f |? J * r^- A "" -- 'f* ,». -£• fe"H * * ^. • r*B^KW>^i'^E^!ESTOmr^eaer$?rm^flBy.'^i® '^sswi %,«** v" «• V* k" * * * <§* $ T j ainflfiUfi l| v^ Sp^E, |djtor Md Publisher. ltoRENRY, v-« - - ~"~ ILLINOIS. I im.I Tfridi • i '. i .i"" in »* -f5*" |TWE WAITING ANGEL. A pliaAnAfcoatnian touches nil our snore. Hushed be oar hearts, and sealed our lips la 4 / ~ , v * y * * i • ' • 4 u "1 , ^"<' <1:<i not hoar the dip of big light <Mf# ji ' Yfet k.nd'w W-tfhb wain there, ' . », ; ". . •--". 'y^*' . Ho olati*1nR chain, no treating pt the iewn, 1 ' j Jlo ,1 .breaking gainstl the ro.k-bonnd j-^r T^jv pnifrnt stands and \rhispers, "O, be braYfl t ^ ^ > J<ii>r fpiu' tfce BWigos I'omv. " || •'* HTJfoar BEI*VE<£ thou must RO Alone, ... , AUMIA wi h -this strange boatman, on the «i',„ .. .breast , ^| ' 5 f that mysterious rivet--rot e'en one ilfi : ii Who lav pa tliee wter Us orest ' 1 '- a ijLi. . May follow, atid suiiport \hv Wasted forpi, . Or heiii to stfiwiy thy white, tender feet. ' Ik-:<& ' !Down t««*tnvl til*! brink of that swiff stream S*-' :* unknown.- f ' j«-. This l'iluj l'al a to uioet. We ti-peeotyee* stav, ro powerless to aid. h Though stretching empty bands into dark. :.J; ;To clasp thine own. yet /know thou'rt unafraid To outer this closo barque And buffet tlie cold wave# ri the wild deep; , Thou who wast ever fondly cher she I herd. Lest sable grtef shoti d o'er thy spirit creep, Htit cannot shield thee there. Fiom thy sivk boil thou must depart alono ; ' That pnth inscrutabli} we mnv not 6ee; •~t?or enn'st thori tnory for'onv plaintive. uuan, Iho lioaimiui w aits for thte. Aif^ne! alone! out o'er the BtnrleqS sea! ;• Not one to h*il theeero^siug to yon aide. " J?o voice to greet, ti 1 in eteruiiy r. Thy scul ib gloritteJ. We dumbly sit, and watch where thou hast ' - lain. All animate with most precious wine, To find a marble east, cfeiseied by l'ain-- ButHfluv^a <mu pence are thine. i.\ ^v4TV I JUNE 8. evening Miss Harrington, prima donha the Cosmopolitan Opera accompanied by-a trim French maid, Genevieve assolutaof Company, w proper and ftnd a \-erv im­ proper and .startling array of trunks, etiiharked upon the great steamship Westmoreland, outward bound. ^ Upon the same ship Henry Win­ throp set foot some minutes latter. Everybody knew Mile. Genevieve. Her wonderful voice and her pretty se^f had taken the operatic world byi storm. Nobody knew Harry--he was only a tall young man, fresh from college, with his triumphs all before hlru. The very first Sensation that Harry 1 el ton awakening t he following morn­ ing was one of much,pain. The upper deck was- drenched with water. Blinding sheets of spray were sweeping over the rails and coursing in little streams around the bulk- head.- f s . ".f ;'t . ctftw his trcirtliitoshtighter i1 V,J* around hitn,' and crouching down 1 ,on under a lifeboat pk>ceeded to light a cigarette. Match after match sput- , tered and weat out. " At last, after numberless unsuccessful attempts, a light was obtained; and Harry settled down for a comfortable suioke. "Oh!" Harty leaped to his feet. What \fras that? With the instinct of an old foot ball player, he bent down JSs Harry said long afterwards, '•that dinner settled it." A few miserable-faced people were at |he tables, every now and then a person would enter the saloon with the grim determination to, get through that meal or die. . 7 But they did neither. Nature would mercilessly assert Its sway, and they would slink hastily back to their Staterooms. Looks of hatred were east at the laughing trio at the eap- Uiin's tab.e. But they were not beaded. » The captain spun out long sea yarns to his heart's content. Genevieve poured out the cUptain's tea, .and Harpy put in his time by being ridic­ ulously happy. H. . """" JUN|5 14,. 1:37 p. ;r. Harry looked on moodily. Miss Harrington was lying'lazily back in her chair, shading liefself from the rays ot the* hot saa *?itto a dainty the parasol. " ' She was literally surrounded by ytmng men of all kinds and ages, but all of theiii in the same condition of servitude. One of them was occupied in violently fanning her. Another was so much afraid she would catch cold that he covered her carefully over With a great steamer rug. , Cnei}H>anasse(i by these many at­ tentions, Genevieve, was looking at the tall iighre of Winthrop as he leaned against the cabin some dis­ tance away from the group, and eyed -j her many admirers with a disdainful ..shrug of the shoulders. '-Oh, Mr. Winthrop." The clear voice broke in upon llarry ^'niedita- tions. ••You called me, Miss Harrington?" 4'Yes. Come over and talk to me. I want your advice. Mr. Thorndykc was just saying that he thought my parasol was a decided- red. Db you think it is?" Mr. Thorndj'ke's face contracted with such a sudden look of surprise that his eye-glass fell into his lap. "But my dear Miss Harrington, I never said anything of the sort. I assure you I was thinking " "It is too late to retract now," re­ torted Genevieve sauciiy. "If you didn't say it. you were going to. Now I don't think it's a bi^tjgaudy." The look on Harry's ' face at that moment was more grave than even the Sphynx could boast of. "That's w^at the monkey said when he painted his tail blue," he ventured politely. "Not a bit gaudy." He examined the offending parasol with a critical eye. "No, not a bit gaudy. It only needs a touch or two of Veronese green to make it absolute­ ly quiet." "Awful boo^ that man, isn't he?" whispered Mr. Thorndyke conflden- onevieve looked at him calmh'.' "Do you think so?. You don't need to fan me any more. I'm naarly frozen to death, and I can't bear this great thick rug over me, I'm too warm now, and if you ever say such a thing again I'll--I'll box your ears. Give me your arm, Mr. Winthrop, I want to walkJ' A disconsolate group of men watched her in surprised silence as and bi&cedUhnself flrmly against the ! she ™*V*ook Harry's arm and moved Halite 'v proudly away. » "What air she has!" mother plead, but jil^In vaiq, for th« judge abided by his decision and would not yield. "Then in her anger and grief she cursed him. The judge laughed at her, for he was never superstitious. But one day, long afterwards, his son received a slight scratch on his arm, and the blood came forth from it in little red streams that nothing could stop. In a few hours he was dead, he had--had bled to d.eath. "Years passed away, and genera­ tions succeeded each other; every male descendant of the fated house met with a like death. "Harry, I--yes, I--Genevieve, the woman that you say you love, am de­ scended from the woman who cursed--" "My family?" Harry had risen to his feet and was leaning against the balustrade. ' 'My father died when I was very young. I can't remember him, And yet I have heard of the old tradition. Bosh. There can't be any truth in a thing like that. Why, "I'll prove it. L o o k -- . . . . He thrust his hand in his pocket and drew otit a knife. "I ll just jab myself in the arm a little and see--" -"Don't," cried Genevieve. "Oh, ITarry, you will--" The blood spurted from Winthrop's wrist. vThere," he said calmly, throwing his cigarette over the stern' of the ship, "we'll find out in • a* few minutes anyway. Do you know--" "I know that you are breaking my heart," sobbed Genevieve, as she en­ deavored to cover the injured wrist With her twao hands. "Oh, I say, that isnttair," remonstrated Harry, push­ ing her away from him gently* "Let it bleed a while," Genevieve knelt down beside him. "Harry, dear Harry, let me bind it up." She struggled with his arm; she might as well have tried to move a rock. A sense vof helplessness came over her, she buried her face in her hands--and waited. The ship gave a sudden plunge, she lost her balance and fell forward, her head struck heavily against the railing. Genevieve opened her eyes slowly and looked up. Harry's anxious face was bending over her. "Where am I?" she murmured drowsily. "How my head pains, why how do you--" she started up with a sudden cry,:--"Is it bleeding, Harry?" "Bless me, I had forgotten all about it," he answered. "Why, no; it's stopped." sgsesmgmiA;;mi davits. A bundle of waterproofs dashed across the sloping deck with a rapidity that would h<we made a cannon ball ashamed of its slowness, and precipi­ tated itself fairly in his arms. Two hands clasped th£ sleeve of exclaimed one of them admiringly. "Yes." assented the collapsed Mr. Thorndyke sadly, "but H.^s air in motion, violent motion, too, Regular whirlwind, I say. Let'shave a drink." hi#*mackintosh. He looked 'down at The *roup adj9urued to the smoking- them. Very pretty hands they were, small and white. He studied the bundle of water­ proofs more carefully. Yes. without doubt, it' was a woman. More than that vague fact he could not--she was ; laughing. A pair of dark eyes looked up. at him, then the lids dropped de- ;.murely over them. ^ - / » "I beg your pardon, sir," he heard the voice say. -I' hope I have not quite killed you. If you will release me now, I think I; can get safely back." "Release'fbu, madam?" said Harry in a melancholy tone. "Release you! " No^. You would be swept overboard, and'l would nevej- forgive myself. Cling to me; despite niv years. I am still strong, and I will rescue you."' "But I don't want to be rescued." persisted tjie* voice. "Or.if you will take my arm instead of my--my waist.?' " . . "Madam." said Harry removing his cap with his unoccupied hand," "forgive me. In the confusion of the moment I only thought of stopping your mad rush to destruction. Had you gotten by me and reached the goal my reputation as full-back would have been ruined." A few moments later they wer seated on the lee side of the cabin out of the reach of the wind and spray. "Pray let me introduce myself. I am Harry Winthrop." began that en­ terprising young person. "And I am Genevieve Harrington. I've seen you before. One evening not long ago you sat in the right- hand box of the Cosiiio]X)litun." Harry smiled benignly. "Yes, and last fall you sat on the tally-ho 1 slid under when we Inst the ball. Isn't it , queer you noticed "me. though, in the theater? Do you know what 1 was thinking of? I'd have given my head to have known that you knew-I was * thqpe.. Couldn't throw you any! : flowers, you know, because I didn't , * have any money to get them with, i iij Never do have much." j "Yes,!] said Genevieve dreamily. "I knew you were there. I'll never forget how afraid I was when you threw yourself under the frightened ^ iiorses just to get that miserable foot ball. I was happy, too, afterwards, when you won the game by your long run. My! How they did cheer, y didn't they?" "Lunch is served for the first table," ' shouted the deck steward, thrusting ^ his head out of the cabin door. Harry jumped to his feet."Will you let we take you down, Miss Harrington? I'm awftilly afraid ,1 have been boring you to death, but when I get started--won't you pledge friendship with iije in a little chafti- pagne?" he sfeiid earnestly, "I'd like to lie your friend." '*But I nevfer drink anything at all." 1 •'Neither do I," laughed Harry. ••Let's shake hands anyway." Gene­ vieve laid 'her hand in his, and the. impulsive young couple went down to dinner room. Genevieve t urned suddenly |o Harry. "What made you say such hard things to me?" stje asked reproachfully. They walked on a minute in silence. "Because," said Harry, "I'm a fool. Genevieve--Miss Harrington--no,I'm going to call you Genevieve. You'll laugh at me, I know. I'm awfully young, disgracefully young, in fact. I don't know very much, I suppose, and I haven't any money and I can't do anything; but--but I'm terribly in love with you. And I suppose I'll grow older some day and I'll work until I'm rich"-- "I don't want you to be rich, Harry. I wouldn't like you half so well that way."' "And I don't want you to like me," retorted this straightforward young man: "I want you to love me. Do you?" Genevieve rested her pretty head on one side. "Sometimes I almost think I do." she answered softly. "Oh, Harry, how could you? There's that awful Mr. Thorndyke lookingri^httit us, and I know he saw you." •Saw me kiss vou? Oh, you may as well say it. You don't care, do you? I'll kill him, if you want me to. Say, Genevieve, I think you're awfully pretty."' '•Sb do.I," replied Miss Harrington. She looked uncertainly at her some- j*what impetuoijs admirer. Her lips j were smiling tremulously, but there shone a grave light in her eyes. ! "Harry," she said suddenly, "I'm J going to run away now. Come to me this evening--I've a long story to tell you," and before he could remonstrate she had slipped awav. III. • JUNE 14, EVK>15«'<}, "Can I light a cigarette, Gene­ vieve? I'm proasic. I know, but you see 1 was so happy. I just,forgot what 1 \'vas doing, and I ate a terribly big dinner, «and I'm afraid--" Harry looked questioningly through the dim light at his companion. '•Isn't this jolly," he continued, after a minute. "All alone bv our­ selves, and the propeller going ker­ thump. kerthump, down below us. Just look at the path the ship makes. It almost seems as if you- could walx right out there and come to the end of the world. "But I forgot, you're going to tell me a story, ain't you? Do you kuow I Could sit and listen vto that voice of yours forever? Well?" "Once on a time in the old days of witchcraft, there lived 1 in a cabin down by the sea an old woman rfhd her son, a fisherman, and her little daughter. ' » "Cp on the top of a high cliffrhot far away, stood the thriving village of B . In that village dwelt an old man, honest and cruet feared by all, loved by none. He Was called Judge Winthrop "Now the young fisherman was brought into court for committing some petty crime, and the judge con­ demned' him to death. Long did the W hat a Baby Dl'il iii One Hour. Uncle Will, the good-natured bach­ elor of the family, was left in charge of the baby one day while every one else was out, and out of curiosity he made a list of what the baby did in one hour. Here it is: 1. Yelled tl,* eeu minutes without taking breath. (Uncle Will declares solemnly that this is a true state­ ment.) 2. Pulled out enough hair from his uncle's head and whiskers to stuff a sofa-pillow. • 3. Cracked the wall-paper as high as he could reach wjth a poker. 4. Broke a sfercscope by sitting down on it. . * i>. Swallow« ' six buttons and a good part of-a spool of thread. - 6. Emptied the contents of his mother's work-basket down the fur­ nace register. T. Tried to squeeze the head of the cat into a tin cup, and was stratched badly in the attempt.. 8. Knocked the head off a fine wax doll belonging to his older sister by trying to drive a tack into a toy wagon with it. 9. Fell off the edge of the whatnot, and brought down with him two costly vases which were ruined. 10. Broke two panes of window- glass with a cane which uncle let him have. - 11. Fell into tho coal-hod and spoiled his new white dress. 12. Set tire to the carpet while uncle was out of the room hunting up something to amuse him. • 13. Crawled under the bed and re­ fused to come out unless Uncle would give him the molasses jug. 14. Got .twisted into the rungs of .a chair, which had to be broken to get him out. 15. Poured a pitcher of water into his mother's best shoes. 1C. Finally, when he saw his mother coming, he ran out to the porch, and tumbled off the steps, making his nose bleed and tearing a hole a foot square in his dress. And jet Uncle Will Jiinks that boy will make something yet! QUEER RESULTS* Soma tw; Odd Facts About tho Nnmntli . Three and Seven. John W, Kirk, the white-haired veteran who was with Morse when the firet wording telegraph line was stretched and who stood beside the great Inventor when the first message was transmitted from Annai>olis Junction to Washington, has made during his life a great many interest­ ing calculations in numbers, says the Boston Transcript. The two most re­ markable numbers in the world are 3 and 7. "The numeral seven," says Mr. Kirk, "the Arabians got from India, and all following have taken it from the Arabians. It is conspicious in biblical lore, being mentioned over 300 times in the Scriptures, either alohe or compounded with other words. It seems a favorite" numeral with the divine mind, outside as well as inside the Bible^ as nature demon­ strates in many ways, and all the other numerals bow to it. There is also another divine favorite, the number three; the trinity. This is brought out by a combination of fig­ ures that is somewhat remarkable. It is the six figures 142,857. "Multiply this by 2; the" answer is.. 285,714. .. •' .• "Multiply this,by 3, the answer is 428,571. * " "Multiply this by 4, the answer is 571,428. . ~ "Multiply this by 5, the answer is 714,285. "Multiply this by 6, the answer Is 857,142. •. . • -• r, . • 'Each answer contains the same figures as the original sum, and no others, and three of the figures of the sum remain together in each answer, thus showing that figures preserve the trinity. "Thus 285 appears in the first and second numbers, 571 in the second and third, 428in the third and fourth, and 142 in the fourth and fifth. 41t is also interesting to note that taking out of any two of these sums the group of three common to both, the other three, read in the usual order, from left to right, will also be in the same order in both sums. "Take the first and second sums, for example. The group of -85 is common to both. Having read 285 out of the second sum, read right along and bring in the first of the thousand last. It will read 714. All the others will read in the same way; "Again, note that the two groups of three in the first sum are the same as the two groups of three in the fourth reversed in order, and that the same thing is true of the second and third. The last multiplication has its groups of threes the same as those of the' original number, reversed again. "Examine these results again, and you will see that in these calculations all the numerals have appeared save the 9. Now Ttiultiply the original sum by the mighty 7--the divine favorite of the Bible and of creation --and behold the answer! The last of the numerals, and that one only in groups of three--again the trinity! 142,857 7 A Japanese Trafgmly. On one afternoon in Kyoto, having nothing particular to do, 1 visited an onnashibai, a, theater where #11 the performers are women, says a writer in Macmillan's Magazine. There was nothing particular iu the performance, but the closing scene was rather amusing to foreign eyes. A pair of guilty lovers had been sen­ tenced to death. The executioner, apparently a coolie, sat down and calmly sharpened an enormous chop­ per while the unhappy victims writltSd^Mh the ground. Finally, when the chopper was keen enough , up jumped the avenger, and after' much posturing to represent triumph gave the "man" the fatal blow. Im­ mediately from the back of the stage there rushed out a boy with a black cap on his head, the said cap inti­ mating that he had nothing to "do with the action of the piece. This "super" held a cloth in front of the corpse, which scrambled off the stage, at the sanie time passing a grizzly wooden head to the executioner, who -brandished it triumphantly. The same scene was gone through with the lady; and in spite of the tragic nature of the scene, to say nothing of its sound morality, I must own to have laughed consUmedly.' i V t A Delicate W|j ol .Putting It. Here is sin anecdote related v»y an Irish iComedian of an experience he once had in the Isle of Wight. The place of Yentnor and tae pros­ pects of a good "house" were dark. It occurred to tije ..Hibernian artist to inquire if there was an Irsh quarter in town; so he said to his host, hotel-keeper; "Have you many Irisl here?" "No," was the ingenuous r< ply, "we are remarkably free f them!" A MAN thinks lots of things he doa't know P' \ ' 999,999 „ • "No other combination of numbers will produce the same results. Does not this show the imperial multipo- tent numeral 7 and its divinity?" A Flying Dutchman. The man who boasts the loudest does not always show best -under fire, writes Col. McDowell to the Youth's Companion. This truth was laugh­ ably illustrated to us one dav when we were encamped in New Mexico, hourly expecting an engagement with the Indians. Aiaong the veteran In- dian-tlghters in our camp was Ser­ geant Shulter, who astonished us youngsters--I was but 20 years old then--by thrilling accounts of his daring achievements. From his talk one wouid have thought him equal to the task of patting a whole'bapd of painted warriors to flight, single- handed. My company had camped near the banks of a small brook. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon. Some of the men went in bathing, some mended their clothes, while others overhauled their guns. Strung out at a distance from the camp were a few pickets. The horses were given "a"chance to graze, tethered with long lariats fastened to iron . pins driven into the ground. Suddenly there came a cry of "In­ dians! Indians!" The men rushed in from all directions, and for a few moments wild confusion reigned. In the midst of it all we heard a series of spasmodic yells, and, turning to­ ward the sound, beheld the fat ser­ geant, the bold, fearless hero of count­ less Indian encounters, capless, coat- less, rynning as fast as he could to­ ward his horse, and blowing and puff­ ing with the exertion. Without stopping for bridle or sad­ dle, he scrambled upon the' horse's back, seized its mane and dug his spurs into the beast's sides with all his might. Excited by the pain thus inflicted, the horse plunged forward with a sudden bound and set off at a mad gallop.. * „ In half a minute the animal reached the end of its tether and wa's brought to a standstill with a tremendius jerk. And Sergeant Shulter? I verily think he was thrown forty feet over his horse's head. He came down thump that could be heard ut the camp, and it was a every bone in his body oken. the supposed seriousness of t, every man of us stood laughed at the ludicrous Poor fellow! His terror n» had made him forget oise was tethered. He hurt; and the cry of In- out to be a false alarm the approach of a few friendly Pawnees. Sergeant Shulter wa. after called the "flying ja," a title whifch he did not re \ rlut Marlanna Alan* , in, I 'la., is talking about a man in TEbenezer c, sixty srfectly lair, may be lit him closely. as dark as he was in his how seems to be o cans skins. When be was about twenty- eight years old the change began to appear at one place on his arms and then spread over the body. Ebcnezer is quite healthy and looks ten years younger than he is." But jGeorgia enters a claim»on him on the ground that it is hfs birthplace.--Philadel­ phia Ledger. ^ At the College of Vannefl. The French college or aeltdtemy of Vannes was attended by poor students who came from the neighboring vil­ lages. and lodged in garrets or little bedrooms which they hired in the town. They went home for the Sun- day, and usually brought back bread enough to last them * through the week. When they had a little pocket money they bought soup or a bit of beef of the woman in whose house they lodged. In his "Nouveaux Mem- oires des Autres," Jules Simon relates how he earned his College expenses, which by the aid of a scholarship were reduced to abmrtrr$50. I never ha(l any poeret money, but- I do not remember once regretting it. "Even the indispensable $50 were not easy to get. Happily for me, it was customary for upper class students to tutor be­ ginners, giving ;i,dajly lesson for three francos'a. month. I had classes from <j:30 to 8 in the morning, and from (i to 7 in the evening. Every evehing In the winter I went to my "class, lan­ tern in hand, but poorly protected against t,he rqin>by my calico shirt. After al) I did.not earn enough tc pay my entire debt to my landlady. She was kind-hearted woman, and urged me not to think of it, but I was terribly unhappy about it. At commencement I took all the first prizes, and the committee made me a present of $40, so that I sud­ denly found myself rich. I paid tny debt, bought a cloth coat and some shoes, and allowed myself the; luxury of new text-books in place .of, ffiy ragged second-hand ones. . In 1872, when as minister of public instruction I was receiving the fac­ ulty of the University of Paris, a gen- tinman whose fainiiiar face I had been trying in vain to place, was pre sented to me by M. Mourier, who said: "Here isM. duPontavice, to whom you gave lessons at Vannes." "For three franees a month!" 1 cried, and greeted him with delight. I do not count those years at Van- n^samong the hard ones Qf my life, though certainly we students were not too uncomfortable. In the school room benches ran along the walls, there were no desks, and we wrote on our knees. There was no fire. Somotimes our fingers were so cold that we coulct not hold our pens. Occasionally the teacher "struck three blows on his desk. Then we jumped up, shouted at the top of our voices, -seized each other by the hand and danced in a ring around a post. At the end of a quarter of an hour three taps on the desk recalled us to our work. It was an economical, and I believe, a healthful way of keeping warm. idst. His he was "He is ew dark iy look- iren are while •&iJ#st of Naming a Mountain. An English tourist in British Co­ lumbia says that his sophisticated and conventional mind was captivated by the freedom and heartiness of the dwellers in that country, The first friend he made was a little girl about five years old, who "seemed to be liv­ ing independently of her relatives." she announced her name as Miss Jenny Lorena Walls, and gave the stranger many interesting details as to the life and habits of her doll. Our landlord, too, was exceedingly hospitable and agreeable. By way of conversation we asked the name of the mountain opposite the door, a peak so striking in its rugged niag- niflence that in Switzerland there would have been two railways and a dozen hotels planned on it. With princely generosity he replied: "You can call it what you like. Every outfit that comes along gives it a new name, and I'll be shot if I can remember what the last one was." It was gratifying to reflect that we were now an "outfit," but at that moment we could not think of an ap propriate title for the mountain. A name occurred to us not long afterward, however, as we began to get acquainted with one of the peculiarities of British Columbian speech, namely, the various uses of the phrase "What's the matter?" "What's the matter with some supper?" "What's the matter-with the bread?"--that is, Please pass the bread. "What's the matter with skipping out of this first thing in the morning?" These and sundry other similar expressions suggested to one of the company^ name for the name­ less mountain, and the world will be good enough to take notice that it is to be known henceforth as the "What's-the-Matter-horn." * Teaeli the lloy«, A well-known man, the monument of whose exceptional ability as a financier is the great dry goods estab­ lishment of which he is the^bead,con­ tended that a discussion of the sub­ ject from his standpoint would serve no good end, since every merchant was an individual, and for every individual there would have to be a different prescription, adapted to per­ sonal temperament, mental capacity and the material circumstances. What would be good for one might be poison for another. He suggested that the way to make good business men, who would ktf'ow how to acquire a surplus to disposeVf, whether or not to invest in stocks, w much money to keep on hand and w to guaid against stringency in the money market, was to give more attention to the morals of *the boys who were starting in business. , He wished it could be shown to them how they were wasting their opportunities, how they were stultifying their maiily spirit, how they are wrecking their chances for future .prosperity when they indulge in games of chance, pool playing, gambling, and other vicious practices that rob them of their night's rest and fill their minds in the day time to the exclusion of the busi­ ness with which they are intrusted. Successful business men, he insisted, could, in the majority of instances, take care of their finances fairly well, but it is the next generation of busi­ ness men that needs to be cultivated with greater care. | Speech Is DofS, i la a rccent number of the Youth's Companion reference was made to the experiments of a French man of science in teaching a dog to articulate certain sounds belonging to human speech. A dog, it was stated, had been found in Paris which was able to utter a sound approaching very nearly to the word "mamma." A correspondent of the Companion writes that,a dog has been observed and carefully studied, much nearer home than Paris, who pronunces the word "mamma" as nearly like the sound of human speech as it is possi­ ble for "it to be uttered with the wide mouth and loose lips of a dog, and who does this with conscious effort, knowing that It is required of him. This? dog, a large black Newfound­ land, a little more than a year Old, is the property of a person who lives at Arlington Heights, a village near Boston. He has a long head, a prom­ inent arched forehead, and lips which are full and large, over-hanging the lower jaw a little. The dog, when called by, his young master and asked, "Stanley, ^homdo you lovfe?" or simply told to "Say it," shows th?.t ho is aware that something is expected of himi He begins to look around for the bit of cake or othej1 morsel of food which is to re- ward him for his attempt, and it is usually shown to him. As an introductory performance, Stanley lies down upon the floor. He never "talks" in any other attitude; but, while lying down, he keeps, his head "clear of the floor. "Now isay it!" says hjs master, snapping his fingers. The dog begins to "work his inouth," opening and shutting his great lips repeatedly. Bv and by he gives out a sound which is half-way between a growl and a whine, and which is continually in­ terrupted by,the opening and shutting of the lips. 'jThe effect is much like "maw-maw- maw-maw." The dog is told that this will not do, and that he must Say "mamma." He resumes the working of his lips, and reduces the number of his syllables to three. Once more told that this will not do, he makes another attempt. His voice seems to fall, and the vocal sound to be less broad, and at last he shortens down Jiis speech to two syl­ lables, and utters a sound which, heard from an adjoining room, might easily be mistaken for a human voice speaking the word "ntanima." He is apparently proud of his achievement, and says his "mamma" again and again. He is rewarded with bit$'of cake, and is plainly elated abd sotne'wh'at excited. Ait tfrn'eis he says his "mamma" without any preliminary experiment­ ing with a larger number of syllables. Occasionally he approaches very much nearer the sound "ah"^ in the word than he does at other tjmes, and some­ times he whispers the word rathei than "speaks" it, emitting his breath without a distinct vocal sound. His master says that the accomplish­ ment had its beginning in what was apparently an accident. When a young puppy the dog uttered a whine, at the same time closing his lips. It oc­ curred to the master that the sound could be developed into the utterance of the word "mamma," and he began from time to time as occasion served, to teach him to repeat the sound, re­ warding him when it was accom­ plished. ... Mysterious Einin Pasha. The movements of Emin Pasha have again become a mystery and a subject of general comment in Europe. Emin started on his present expedi­ tion in April of last year, and since that time he is known to have oc­ cupied Tabora, the headquarters of the Arabs in Central Africa, and to have raised over it the German flag, and also to have liuilt a German town on the River Kagera, which di­ vides English and German territory. There the German Government at­ tempted to recall hjm, but whethei he received the ordfer is not known. He certainly did not heed it; but pushed straight on into English ter­ ritory, and when la.st heard from, In May of this year, he was if) the neigh­ borhood of Lake Aloert Edward. There is a report that he intends to push on and recapture Khartoum. This, however, seems rather improb­ able. But there is a touch of pleas­ ing romance about the suggestion of Gordon's fail being avenged by Gor­ don's old friend and lieutenant. ltauohtng In PlwritlM. Ranching, though the leartt known, is the oldest industry in Florida. For a great number of years cat 11<» ralMlng for t>8fc.Cuban and Wi'st Indian mar­ kets has been an occupation of iIn active Flordian. From I'linto Hindu and Punta Rassa, ports of Cltiifllob harbor, about lo.ooo head of rail It are annually exjKirted tubulin. '|'h»» are not fattened, anil, Indeed, art' only rounded up Jiwt indole tion; consequently the beef In wretched stuIT. and the #11 or »|,i paid for each of the hervo* limy lie considered quite as much a* 1hi\v are worth. The pasture I'M poor the BREED still poorer; and, although there l» it movement afoot, to Improve liolli, there can l>e little doubt a» the South­ ern countries aro set tled, herd* will diminish in size-and the range of pa*- turage be greatly restricted. Ranch­ ing as ranching will gradually d ie, and dairy farming will reign i.n its stead. --Macmillan's Magazine. Georgia'* Model Town. The Atlanta Constitution think? Ellaville, in Schley County, deserves to rank as the model town of Georgia. It says: "There is not a young man in Ellaville who gets drunk. There is not a young, lady in the place who dips snuff or indulges in other bad habits. There is not a family in the place who lives by buying on credit and beating the merchant out qf his bill. There is not a bar-room in the place; not a pool or billiard-room; not a gambling house; not a desreputable house of any kind; not a loafer; notagambler; not a professional thief; not a bully; notabegger." FATHER TIME says', "Here's, scythe for those who love me." THE nationality of the nearly 3,500 vessels that use the Suez Canal an­ nually is thus .given; English, 2,611; HJermah, 194; French, 168; Dutch, 146; Italian, 103;AAustro-Hungarian, 54; Norwegian, 48; Spanish, 33; Rus- i sian, 23; Turkish, 22; IJgyptian, 8; a I American, 5; Japanese, 3; Portuguese,- 1; Belgian, 1; Chinese, 3; Danish, 3. SOMETHING ABOUT CORK8., Cons of the Light I'.ark Come to Tlity Country. »- This country receives the best corks, as of everything else European. Thousands of men, women and child­ ren in the mountains of Spain and Portugal are busied in cutting cork. It is a domestic trade and occupies whole villages. Agents from the fact1 ories and export houses of Seville and Lisbon go through the mountain vil­ lages each year buying up the corks in enormous quantities. The agent of an importing house in New Yorf cabled the other day that he had just returned from the Sierras after hav­ ing purchased 10,000,000 corks. Ttje corks, as purchased in the village^, are*of all sizes and qualities. They are sorted in the cities, baled in gunny cloth, paper, and gunny cloth again, and shipped to- this country by the ton. Once here, many of them are recut by hand at the rate of twenty gross a day. So fastidious are some bottlers that the cork importers have to keen in their employment sevetai cork cutters to recut such_corks as do not suit customers." Immense quantities of crude cork are brought into this country and cut by machi nery. The crude cork varies from half an inch to two and a hail inches in thickness, and it is of many qualities. The first quality is cut by * hand into wine corks; the cheaper qualities are cut by machinery , into "soda corks/? pork soles and ^hat not. There is an enormous sale, for small corks, such as are used by drug­ gists, and tons of cork are used every year in eyeglass dips. Only the finest cork is used for the purpose, and it is difficult to obtain a proper quality. Cork growing in Spain and Portu­ gal is an extremely precarious busi­ ness, and it demands considerable capital. The bark is cut only once in ten years, but as the forests are very large the owner manages to ob­ tain an annual crop. This year's crop is just beginning to come into the American market, the trees hav­ ing been barked in July and August. Crude cork comes over in great bales, weighing from 175 to 225 pounds each. The heat to which it is sub­ jected in order to flatten out its curves also drives out most of the insects, such as one would naturally expect to find in bark. As cork is too light to form a cargo of itself, the cork carry­ ing vessels also bring oil, olive?,, wine and heavy merchandise' of 'various sorts. ^ Early Mlaiortunetu -l" Talleyrand was the greatest diplo­ matist of the day. His father was a military officer, and the boy would no doubt have been educated to the same profession, but for an accident which befell him in childhood. After the fashion of the tinie, he was entrusted to the care of a woman, some miles away from home. While in her charge his foot was dislocated by a fall. It was not properly cared for, and his parents did not beeome aware of*the fact until it was too late to correct the error. . The abnormal strain brought upon the other foot soon induced a lame­ ness in that also, and the boy thus became a cripple for life. This seemr ing misfortune determined a change in the plans of his parents for him, and as a result the name of Talley­ rand has become one of the mo«t familiar among the great ones of modern history. The history of a certain American family furnishes several similar examples of the beneficent results of disabling accidents. The young son of a farmer in a small town in Massachusetts had his hand crushed in his father's cider-' mill, and being thus unfitted to gain his livelitK»od by farming, was sent in due time to the academy, to com­ mence a preparation for a professional life., He died a member of the United States Senate. The young man graduated at Har­ vard, ' stnd became a minister of the gospel. One of his sons was a general in the army of 1812; another served his country in Congress. The son who entered politics had six sons who were'college-educated men, all prominent in their pro­ fession, one a 'judge of the Superior Court of New Hampshire, and an­ other a professor for forty years in a New England college, and eminent as an author. All this life of education and use­ fulness, extending through three gen­ erations, may lie said to have started In a little IM>>*S cutting his leg!-- Youth'* Coin pan ion. Two lluitun* «ra Our Coals. |»Y»r HiHiiy Jem * the two buttons hltvr tiguhd lit the waist Hue of the hiii'k oi l he IIUIU'M Mklrt or frock coat. Now. Win are Ilie.v there? a*ks the |.i'Win!oil Me,, lounml. For orna- MMitl hi id Not MO originally, Ihi Uh tttii iilllloii» were, at their lull (MtMtl. fur arnica and not for ilei <n *tl lull- ^ If ion lint their Inception back IMIM I In llltie when the big, square till niibioldered mid gorgeously lined eoiil* weie moiii two centuries ago, and when I he gallant* of the time svere mnut lo go forth on dress parade Willi III*' MWoi'd at the Hide and ready to renin I any Inforuialltyof etiquette, you will llntl that In order to reach the side arm more readily the skirts of the coat were turned back In a re­ verse shajx'd way and buttoned or looped, upon the two buttons at the back, placed as these are at the pres­ ent day. In this way they secured an im­ munity from drapery when the com­ mand came, ' 'Draw and defend thy­ self," and at the same time exploiting a segment of the rich., inside of the skirt of the coatr in a very effective" way. The tinsel, the side arm, the court etiquette, the duello and the gorgeous flowered texture of the coat have gone before, but those two but­ tons remain on the tail coats of to­ day, a suggsstion of that period of , laces, brocades and romance. Native Ruler a Lotting Ground. Africa is slowly but surely passing from the hands of the native rulers. It comprises about 11,000,000 square miles, of which only 3,500,000 are governed by the Africans. France has 2,309,217 square miles; Eugland, 1,900^445; Germany, 1,035,720; Conge Free State, 1,000,000; Portugal, 774r- 999; Italy, 360,000; and Spain, 210,- 900. While the share of France is largest, England's is most valuable.