women had crowded against htm In their efforts to eater the tourist oar, solved the boat of eager aM tht rlel* est of cream. JL VAN SLYKE, Editor wd Publisher. MoHENRT, ILLINOIS upon the lower step of which he had { <#Fhey ate very liberal at this §ta stationed himself, the butter to see lion," he remarked as he handed her over the heads of "Millie's relatives." the pitcher and hastened away. The movement was so sudden that! And from that time Kichard Wake- he had no recourse but to enter the man appeared regularly at each lunch THE BELATED VIOLET, MM wnmtuer long, upou a bare hill-side, „ ' JL tiny violet plant bad tried to Woooa, But tried in vn.iT); it- seemed to bo its doom A useless tiling forever to abide. _ Bat whom the parching summer heat that dried llie plant's life-blood had gone, and in it* room Baptmnber's breezes freshened, then the womb I/Xtg closed with beauteous fruitage opened wide. When life f-etme vain, and when we curse out fate, •* Because bard labor bring* us no reward, mar be wo ore !>eing forced to wait, Until some kiuiUier luflnenoc breathed abroad; Shall our thirsty spirits to dilate > Into n fuller fellowship with GoC. , --Hearth nnd Hall. MILLIE'S RELATIVE^ car in advance of them, which he did intending to pass through it to the Ptillman coach beyond., where his chars?e was sleeping; but when he had reached the center of the car he dis covered that the objectionable rela tives quite blockaded the passage tn either direction, and there was noth ing left for him but t<o And a seat and wait their exit As he seated himself, a stalwart man--a tjpical western settler-- placed a slender little woman in the compartment next to the one he had entered. "There you be, maw, ez com P table ez if you was to home on Vour best feather bed," he said, with a gigantic effort to steady his voice. After swallowing two or three times In ' > 1 1 , -- -- - -- -- • • 4<&>dr old uncle, he has dropped to 'fHteftp at last." The speaker arranged a wrap about the invalid's shoulders with a touch as gentle as a woman's, and the tenderness of a great, good heart lingered in his eyes Then with the Intention of getting the "kinks out of his legs" he walked away for the purpose of taking a turn or two on the platform of a dingy little station at a dilapidated Western village. where the west bound train had stopped for the trainmen's noontime lunch, which was served at a rude counter in the statioa The buildings within the range of Richard Wakeman's vision had a dis couraged, unhappy look as if the effort to keep up a respectable ap- jiearancc had long since been aban doned. The wild prairie winds had snatched away a sningle here, and a clapboard tnere, and several oti the chimneys and fences seemed to be tottering on the verge of destruction which was certain to follow the next wind storm. That seyete wi^d storms were common was quite evident from the fact that the debris of a recent j storm was strewn throughout the Tillage, it was also evident that the j inhabitants considered it "labor lost" j to gather in their belongioes, since j the next storm would, in ail proba- j bility, send them bioad-cast again. ; The canine population of the place : good-by to your folks w«u» arranged in an expectant row at \ Millie a word o' advice, the side of the track, just under the coach windows, where they had stationed themselves on the arrival of the train, and were begging, with up turned eyes, for contributions from from Eastern bakeshops. This cir cumstance led one to concludc that these half famished creatures sub sisted mostly on the generosity of station, and purchased whatever they needed In the way of supplied for th« , lunch-basket. It was simply marvel- ! ©us to Innocent, Unsuspecting Millie, , how far the money went, and how ] many necessities, to say nothing of I luxuries in the way of fruit, etc., the • dimes and quarters handed to him for this purpose purchased. [ Millie and her mother were going , to San Diego, and though Mr. Waue- ' man had started with his uncle for I Los Angeles, upon hearing their ! plans he came to a sudden conclusion | that San Diego's equable climate ( would be more desirable for the cure or his uncle's complaint This de cision would have been carried into , effect but for the fact that Mr. Wake- man, Sr., became so very ill that his quick succession, he added; "You'n I nephew was obliged to stop with him Millie'll have a r^l nice time, an'| at San Bernardino. Reluctantly he you'll come hotnceZ chirk eza cricket, er my name ain't Abner Marks." He tucked her shawl about her as he spoke with awkward tenderness, and his great brown hand paused in passing to clasp her sleader one, while his li; s twitched tremulously. He was rough and uncouth, this man whose continual battle for a living had crowded all possible opportunity for self improvement out of his nar-£ row. over-burdened life; uncoth and uncultivated but great hearted in the extreme was Abner Marks. "It's costln' you a great deal, Abner," sighed the little woman, wearily, "an'I'm afraid #e can't- af ford it. The re^itiv6s say-- "Darn the relatives: I wish the hull pack on 'em was in Jericho. They've pestered the life e'en a most out'n you. I've gut my opinion thet it's more relatives than malaria what's ailin' of you." Richard noticed that this was said in subdued tones. "An' as fer th' cost, don't you go to frettin' erbout thet, an' spile all the good effects o' th' Calaforny clim ate." He continued in a much louder voice. "I've had a big streak o' luck lately, an' can afford a sight more'n your trip '11 cost. Now say while I give He drew Millie to one side where the little woman could not hear the "word o' advice" he was about to give her, and in getting her beyond her mother's vicinity, as well as away from the clamorous relatives, >he paused quite close to the solitary young man whom fateseemed to have destined as a receptacle tor the confl- travelers, a supposition which \»as j dences of this family. He could not partially verified by a crust of bread descending from one of the windows ; in front of the hungry pack, at which a confused scramble, accompanied by 1 vicious snarlings, took place, and the ; largest, least miserable deg among! them, captured the prize. j Richard Wake man glanced above \ the station house door in hopes of! being able to learn the name of the ! forlorn village; but the late storm iiad torn the board upon which the name was recorded, from its fasten ings, and it new stood propped up against the station house, with its letters inverted. The name might hare been Hardscrabble. Young Wakemao decided that it looked as nearly like that as anything, and l>eing a most appropriate appellation, tie accepted it without further in- j Test gat on. There was a great commotion at I have changed his position without attracting considerable attention and 0 -cupying much of the precious time needed for the farewells. : "Here's the purse with ev'rjr dime i 1 could rake an' scrape together, ; arter buyin' your tickets", he began, i "I'll get some more to you 'fore this ! is gone, an' mind you're not to scrimp maw ez long's the money holds out, nor let her know thet I'm a-sellln' th' garden tools to eke out, nor thet the red heifer's sold nor th' white horse--i-" "No, no, father; surely vou can trust me, "Interrupted Millie, earn estly. "Mother shall never know, and if this trip cures her, we will be too happy to care for anything else. I mean to earn something to help along with Just as soon as we get to California." bade Millie and her mother good bye, promising to come on to San Diego just as soon as "Uncle Phil" was able to continue the iourney. It was several weeks before Rich ard Wakeman was permitted to fol low Mrs. Marks and her daughter to San Diego, when he called upon them at the pretty sea-side cottage where they had found comfortable lodgings Mrs. Marks presently entered the room, and he scarcely recognized the bright little woman who came to welcome him with such a rosy flush on her oval face. "It's just like meetin' a dear old friend," she exclaimed gladly, "an' Millie'll be so happy to see you." Millie came into the room at that moment with the happiness of meet ing him shining in her truthful eyes. She had never appeared so sweet and altogether lovable before, and Richard Wakeman secretly acknowledged that this girl with objectionable relatives was the fairest women he had ever known. He informed them that his uncle had died at San Bernandlno, and that he was now utterly alone In the world. "We shall be returning home soon," Millie said, with the shadow of regret in her fine eyes. Mother thinks that she has quite recovered." "Rut she will not remain well if she returns to that dreadful place," Mr. Wakeman affirmed decidedly. "I know it, and this lovely house is for sale at such a very low price just-cow," Millie began. t»If father could only sell the Missouri farm to good advantage he could make a pay ment on this, and we could be so--so happy here. But it isn't possible," she added, cheerfully. "Missouri property>an't be disposed of at any price now, and we must return in about three weeks. " Mr. Wakeman said that he would be very sorry to have them go, and after asking permission to call often while they remained, he drew his visit to an abrupt conclusion. That afternoon he was closeted for some time with a lawyer in the city, who, as soon as the conference was ended made hasty preparations for a journey to a certain dilapidated vil- lage in Missouri. About three weeks later, as Mrs. Marks and her daughter Millie were resting from the sorrowful task of packing their trunk preparatory to taking leave of the pretty cottage they had learned to love so dearly, sitting oo the rose-embowered porch the station. It seemed to Richard : aboard," which in this case meant The conductor shouted "all! they discovered a familiar form com- Wakeman that the eat re village must have turned out for some spe ial purpose. He was not long kept in ignorance of its nature, for the loud- voieed conversation informed him that Millie Marks was taking her in valid mother to California, for the benefit of its recurperative climate. "The hull passed o' relatives on both sides, hez turned out to see 'em off, ez was our duty, seein' thet there for those already aboacd to leave the train. There was a hurried hand shaking, followed by a general scram ble for the door, and a moment later distance had begun to lengthen out between brave Millie Marks and her prairie home. Having had so much of the family history forced upon him, Richard Wakeman regarded the two women ir- the next compartment with more to iain't much prospects o' Marthy's j interest than he was accustomed Uvin' to get home ag'in," ohe of the j bestow on. traveling companions. i The girl's face was completely hid- that; den by a thick veil which she now ' proceeded to remove. Richard was dutiful "relatives" was remarking in a high-pitched falsetto voice, cut the air like a knife. "It's a clean waste o' money, an' I told Abner so, last night. 1 said, says 1, 'this sending a half dead woman, an' a young, giddy girl off alone is a temptin' o" Providence, to say the very least, an' the extrava gance or it is simply dreadful' But Abner slapped one o' his high an' mighty looks on to his face, an' said •at he reckoned he could afford to just a trifle curious to see the face of , this girl whose relatives, with the j single! exception of the little sick t mother, were such loud-voiced, un gainly creatures. He expected a { slight improvement perhaps, but not much. How could she, having spent | the greater part of her life among I them, be other than a slightly refined , copy of those teiribly offensive peo- give Marthy a chance for herTife, at! pie? any rate, 'n' he didn't count the cost j With an upward movement of her o* it nuther. Marthy's allers been a j hand she remuved the veil and hat, she ( then busied herself making her dear i invalid comfortable. Richard came | near exclaiming with surprise at the \ sweet, unconscious beauty of the fair. I flower-like face looking out from its 1 frame of soft brown hair. Every savin' woman, an' 1 wonder that 1 consented to sech extravagance " "It's all Millie's cloin's.," volun teered a third. "That girl has carried things pretty much her own way since she came back from that Eastern school. I s'picioncd 'twould be the ruination o' her when they i cately chiseled as he could hope was a-plannin' to send her. They j behold in the lace of a queen. heard all 1 had to say on the subject, • The year's schooling abroad, which f ..an'then went right on just as if 11 the relatives so emphatically disap- hadn't spoke my mind at all. 1 had a i proved, had accomplished wonders for talk with Millie last night, an' gave j Millie Marks, and Richard Wakeman her heaps o' good advice about prop-; dimly comprehended what her later erly conductln' of herself amongst j life among them must have been. * strangers, an' the spendlu' o' ing rapidly towards them, and both women sprang to their feet in joyous expectancy. "Father!" exclaimed Millie. "Oh, Abner!" cried the little wo man. And the next instant his great, i strong arms were about them both, j "Talk about luck!" he exclaimed I as soon as the kissing process was | over. "I've had sech a streak o' luck j ez you never hearn tell on afore. A likely sort o' chap came to our place j th' fust c' last week, an' fell desprit : in love with my farm the*minute he slapped eyes onto it. An' would you believe It, Marthy, he offered me .$1,500, hard cash, right down in my j fist, fer the hull turnout." ; "Oh, father, cried Millie, tremulous with happiness, "this .pretty cottage can be bought for that furniture and alL" "Ev'ry last one o' the relative* on both sides called on him, an' offered their farms fer sale," continued Mr. Mark, n*>t heeding Millie's interrup tion, "but he reckoned as how one Missouri farm was enough fer him, an' I ain't sorrv nuther," a sly twinkle creeping into his eyes. "Yes, Millie, girl, we'll buy this house an' stay in this country where maw found her purty red cheeks agin,". That all happened more than two years ago, and though Millie has been to curve and outline of it was as dell-1 Mrs. Wakeman for a short, joyous twelve months,,,she has never learned the truth concerning the sale of her lather's undesirable Missouri farm. Yankee Blade. v 'Witch Hunting In Africa. Natal advices describe 'the termi nation of a celebrated case in which Si money, I an' so forth, an* whether she takes it j tb heart or not is neither here nor j there. I done njy duty, an' my jqpnscience is clear ;o' any responsi-< totflty in the matter. I told Millie j t&et her poor mother jest worked: herself into th' grave, in order to send her away to school, an' have big nations crammed into her head, so thet she'd lcok down on hor folks an' -relatives." "What did she say to that?" "I can't say ez she said much with ber tongue, out her eyes was full o' talk, an'her face turned pink and chalky-like all in a minute. She knows too much fer her own good, Hillie does." -"I've said so to Abner an' Marthy MA1V WITHOUT A NAME. Ik* Strange AOtctlo* Whlcti' 31 as a*, fallen a Strang*-r In Melttourna,.. The Melbourne Argus states that on February t>, a young man about 30 years of age called at the police bar racks, Russell street, Melbourne, and asked the officer in charge if he could teli him who he was. At first it was thought thai the man was a lunatic, but it soon became evident that bis statement as to his memory having quite failed him was a genuine one. He was taken into custody, kept in the Melbourne jail, where numerous persons have called in the hope of recognizing h m, but so far without success. He states that he does not remember anything before the day on which he visited tne police barracks, and several medical men who have seen him express their bel'ef in this statement, attribut ng h s lack of memory to masked epilepsy. The man being unidentified, in default of his right name, is referred to as "Edward Bellamy," the appelation bestowed upon him by the warders and prisoners who have read Bellamy's well-known work, "Looking Back ward." Wnile the church service was being proceeded with "Bellamy" was noticed listening intently to the music. Ho was questioned about it, and said: "I seem to have heard that before somewhere. What is it?" He did not seem to understand when told it was music, but at the con clusion of the service Dr. Shields took him up to the organ, and having shown him that*the sounds he had heard were produced by fingering the keys, seated him in front of the In strument. "Bellamy" struck several notes uuinteiligentiy, and then a chord or two in harmony, and in "an instant, with a look of pleasure, he commenced a selection from 'The Creat on," which he played correctly and well. He used the stops and showed that he was familiar with the instrument When the jail organist whistled a bar or two of the hymn, "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," "Bellamy" smiled again, and without, music or any further assis tance, played the hymn through. As soon as he had done so he said: Something else has come into . my mind, and I want you to list to it apd see if It has anything to do with what I have just played." He then played "Awake, My Soul," an old and favorite' hymn tune. The one had evidently been suggested to him by the other. He played a number of secular airs after the first, few ban had been whistled. "To a girl like her it must have ! seven natives were charged with been a night-mare of. horror," he "smelling out" and killing an alleged thought, as sne caressed the little ; witch. It appears from the evidence mother, while the cadences of her that the victim was accused of caus- sweet. lew voice were wafted )>ack to log the death of a chief, the idea him. "I don't w j«cferr that she being prevalent that no chief can wanted to get the mother away from ! die from natural causes. Three of them, and God helping me they shall | never go bacK again, but the way shall open up for that plebeian noble- I man to come to them." I Millie had already spread the eve- j ning lunch for herself and mother t when the train camc to a stop at a ; railway lunch station, and shQ was about to go in quest of a cup of coffee i for her mother when a courteous voice at her stde requested the priv ilege of do ng the errand for her. "It w.ll be no trouble at all," he time an' time agin, but I might e/.' said, "as I am doing a like errand •well talk to the wind fer any good it •does. Seems's if some folks don't liave proper respect fer their rela tives. When a body .gets to be mj high headed they're sure to be took down, an' the Markses'll come to it. you jest see if they don't. Millie's Jjy far too pretty to be trapisin' off to «trange lands with no one but a sick inaw to look alter her. But dear suz, •e'II have to say good-by to Marthy if we're a-gom' to." Before Richard had time to make iiis escape, four ^aunt, hard-featured for my Invalid uncle in the next car." Millie blushed. She had meant to spend but ten cents, and the pitcher full would cost much more, she feared. "You are very kind," she said, gratefully, handing him the dish and a dime. "Just one cup, please. I do not dripk coffee. Mother takes cream and sugar in hers." He understood, bowed gravely,-and in a very short time returned with a brimming pitcher of delicious coffee, in which the magic of money haddis- the prisoners were convicted, and one of these, on being asked If he had anything to say, declared that they had consulted a witch doctor in the matter and only did what they were told. All three were sentenced to death. The Natal Mercury, refer ring to this case, says that smelling out and witch murder are rife among the Pondos just now, and expresses little surprise that tne natives near the Pondoland border are being in fected. The writer says that it is i just as necessary to put down witch craft as witch hunting, for natives often seek to "bewitch" the victims of their hate and jealousy and to kill them by poison or other subtle agency.--London Times. A Cikciwnati teacher was offered fifteen dollars in gold to learn the lessons she set for a 12-year-old girl in a given time, and she tried it and failed. Waszr a man is discharged,his wife thinks it was because he was too honest to suit his employer. AU Cried "Hansom." Not long since a bride and groom from the State of Michigan were vis iting Washiugton, D. (i, as is the custom of young people in the honey- moonatic condition. Just where they came from cannot be stated, as a Saginaw man residing at the national capital says they were from Bay City, and a Bay City man in one of the de partments says they were from Sagi naw, says the Detroit Free /Press. In any event they were in Wash ington, and the young bride thought her husband was the loveliest man that ever did live; and, as nobody told her he wasn't* he must have been. One night they went to the theatre within two blocks of their hotel, and, as she clung to him and gazed up into bis good-looking face as they came out, the cabmen along the curb caught on and began calling their cabs. 'Hansom," shouted the nearest cabby. The bride smiled at her husband. "Hansom, lady?" sang the next one, seductively. She smiled at the cabby, until he thought spring had come with a face full of sunshine. "Hansom,1' called the next one, and, "hansom," "hansom." echoed along the line till they came to the last. Hansom," he said, appealing to her directly. She looked again at her husband and then at ohe cabby. "Of course he is," she replied; and clutching his arm convulsively she exclaimed: "Oh, George, isn't it lovely to be so handsome that even the men in he street pay tribute to your beauty. And you are my husband, too! (Jh, George," and George thought it was all right and hadn't a word to say. Kato Field's Washington says somo public men 'are, of buying a news paper now and then, and he is one of the bestspatrons of the famous news paper exchange. No matter whether it is from Kalamazoo or Saccarappa, a newspaper is a newspaper to Wil liam R. Morrison, and he never goes home without a bundle of great girth in his arms. He doesn't hoard them up; they are carefuiiy read ana clipped and hied alphabetically by Mrs. Mor rison, who does much of the reading for him. ' r vfd Tipping the Scales. . In 1794 James Monroe bes-ame min ister to France Those we e troub lous times. The echoes of the French Revolution were yet in the ait and the various European nations were watching one another, as well as the United States to note the* attitude taken by them in regard to the French government. Monroe was received enthusiastic ally, and his after life, while in France, was full of stirring apd dra matic incidents. One event m par ticular was not only interesting in itself, but had a grave, bearing on public affairs. The Marquis de Lafayette had been captu ed on the frontier, and was now lying in the.dungeon of Olmutz. 'His wife, with her two little children, were confined in the prison of La Force, in daily dread of being order ed to the guillotine; Her conditio*:* appealed strongly to the American minister, and at length he resolved on a course which might, not only fail to do her any good, but which would prooably involve him personally in trouble. For the gov ernment of the day was only too ready to take offence, in its present stateof irritability from troubles past. Without his wife he could do noth ing, and she promptly seconded his determination with the pledge of her own aid. One afternoon the carriage of the American minister drew up before the prison of La Force, and Mrs. Monroe descended from it and asked permission to call upon the marchioness. She had assumed all the pomp and elegance to which her husband's position entitled her, and the prison authorities were evidently impressed by her courage and decis ion of bearing. fhey took her to a reception room instead of the cell where the march ioness was confined, and conducted thither the young and unhappy wo man, who seemed, as well as she mights fullof«rief» It was not safe to talk confiden. tiully, and probably neither woman could trust herself to speak. The marchioness, who had been expect ing a summons to her execution, could only sob, and when Mrs. Mon roe left she promised, in the hearing of the guards, to return on the fol lowing day. But the call was never repeated, for on the very next day the march ioness was at liberty, and on her way to join her husband. Her execution had really been fixed for the after noon of Mrs. Monroe's visit, but the French authorities, having thus learned the attitude of the American minister, had decided on leniency.-- Youth's Companion. Nursing Malarial Fever. This begins, as many acute diseases do, with a chill followed by fever, which subsides atter a time and is followed by a second chill, writes Elizabeth Robinson Scovil in the second of her valuable articles on "Life in the Invalid's Room" in the Ladies' Home Journal. These re cur at regular intervals and give the fever one of its names, intermittent or remittent The doctor usually pre-cribes large doses of quinine, or smaller doses often repeated. The nurse must try to promote a reaction during the chill, by hot bottles or hot water bags at the feet and under the arms, covering the patient with warm flannels and giv ing warm drinks, warm lemonade, hot milk, etc., but no stimulant without the doctor's permission. When the fever comes on ice and cold water may be given. A cooling laxative is usually ordered, as $itrate of maurnesia. The body may be spjnged if the temperature is very high. A cloth wet in alcohol and bound oh the forehead will help to relieve the headache, wetting it without removing it when it becomes dry. When the fever decreases the in valid begins to perspire profuselv. Ttye whole person should be gently dried from time to time a flannel night-dress put on, the room dark ened and the sufferer allowed to sleep. The doctor should be con sulted, as pro; er treatment is neces sary to prevent, if possible, a recur rence of the attack. In all forms of fever the efforts of both nurse and physician are directed to reducing the temperature and sustaining the strength of the patient An UOUilTonrat Newspaper Reader. William R. Morrison is said to have but one vice--a very pardonable one. He Is an inveterate newspaper reader. If anyone ever sees Mr. Morrison withoutoneor two newspapers tucked under his arm it must be when he has on a dress suit He still receives almost as large a newspaper mail as when he was a Congressman. More over, Mr. Morrison isn't afraid, as A Book Agent's Wit; Ready wit and imperturbable good humor arc essential portions of the suc?essful book agent'b stock in trade. This was strikingly illus trated the other day, when one of those much abused, but industrious and enterprising individuals con trived to gain access to an irascible and profane, but by no means bad hearted, bank president, who pos sessed the somewhat rare virtue of being able to appreciate a joke at his own expense. "Get out of here, quick, and go to h--1." he exclaimed to the book agent, before the latter had time to state his business. "Thank you," replied the Itinerant vender of literature, bowing and backing toward the door. '*Then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again." Everybody in the room laughed, the banker included, and when the noise had subsided he promptly made atonement for his rudeness in his own peculiar fashion. "That's one on me," he said. I'll take five dollars' worth of whatever you are selling and will cry quits. And when we meet again I hope it will be where everybody sings hymns." --New York Herald, , Trees In Medicine* The medicinal uses of trees are various, says the Independent It is not only that cinchona in aU its forms, from the crude bark to the delicate and tasty quinine, or the quassia made into a cup of bitterness, meet the terrors of the dread malaria, or help to, give tone to impaired di gestive organs. Through all the range of spices and bitters, of resins and gums, of leaves, of wood, of bark and root, there is a variety with which we could not easily part; while the buds and leaves and flowers are often salutary. Most of these arc anti septic. and the-air probably owes much of Its ozone and of its exhilar ating quality to these substances, i Thus it is that particles are wafted to and fro for our lungs and tonics are j provided for our bodies. We there- | fore have reason to rejoice in the : sanitary and medicinal properties and healthful influence of the trees. ) and hope this utilitarian view of them will not shock those who only associate with them ideas' of the poetic and sublime. Paper Barrels. Among the many uses to Which paper has been put In later years none seem more curious than the vessels made to hold fluids And, remarks an exchange, just as one has grown accustomed to paper pails and basins, a new industry has started up, in the construction of paper barrels. By means of ingenious machinery the pulp is carried along on an endless blanket which allows the water to drain off. As it thus goes on its way the pulp is deposited upon cylinders. In about four minutes there is enough collected upon one cylinder to make one barrel, upon which helng the case, the cylinder is removed and the barrel body set away in a drying room, where it remains for one day. It is then dampened again, and under hydraulic pressure, is shaped Into the regular form. Again It is dried and receives the finishing touches. •MUPF-CHBWINQ. A Filthy Habit XmbUged In largely bf Poor Moutfcern Feopie. Arkansas is the great home for chewingisnuff these days, and when ever the typical native is met, with his pants tucked into his rough boots, his sleeves rolled up and his shirt bosom open, you cannot talk to him for a minute before he will dive hisjiand into bis pocket and flsh out his spoon or hardwood stick, which be will plunge into another pocket and dip up some snuff, which he will con vey to his mouth and deposit with great relish along the lower gum, be tween it and the cheekbone. The tongue is then rolled. from side to side until the svuff forms a tiny ball; then, in an instant, the juice is ex tracted, the saliva shot out and the operation resumed. This custom originated in Virginia, up la the mountain*, spread through the South, coralled Texas, and is now great among the Swedes in the north western* part of the city of Chicago and wherever else they may fce found. The latter chew the snuff in a different way, taking a tea- spoonful of snuff into the palm of the hand, making it into a ball with a little moisture, and then depositing it inside of the jaw. This will last an hour it he keeps quiet, but if he becomes excited and gets*chewing on it the saliva disintegrates it, and be tween what he swallows in his ex citement and what he expectorates there is notfvery much left in a very brief period. Many of the stores in this section of Chicago get through with 150 to 250 pounds of snuff., One large firm doing a heavy Southern snuff trade built it up in a curious way. The colored people are great snuff people, and oh the cotton plantations down South are rarely lucky enough to get a piec^ of silver in their hands. Food and clothes they will get, and "orders" on the store to be taken out in goods, but actual coin was scarce indeed. So the manufacturer put up his snuff in' small jars, to be sold at $1 each, and in each jar right at t&e top wan packed a bright 10-cent piece. This fact was made known to the colored peop'e, and from then on the South ern demand for that snuff was, in the choice vernacular of the sport, '•'a lead pipe cineh." In New York City the trade is cu riously distributed. Avenues A and B and East Houston street sell largely to the factory girls and tene ment house population; Third avenue, around Twenty-eighth street, sells principally to Germans, old settlers, and in the beer gardens and saloons patronized by this conservative race is continually handed around the birch-bark box or the smaller deep black box filled with the deep black snuff, sented with rose and bergamot. On the same avenue, around Four teenth street, the snuff trade is to the piano tuners, and also street musi cians who Jive around here, who load up their boxes before starting out on their route. The Bowery trade is principally to girls, and is universally condemned by the dealers as a nui sance, one well-known dealer break ing the back of their coming to his store by persisting in serving out Maccaboy when they wished fdr Scotch. ' '{Cholera Cannot Be ••Caught." •One may eat cholera and drink cholera, and so contract the disease; but one can no more 'catch' cholera than one can *catch' a oroken leg." This is®the axiom of Enerst H»rt and Florence Nightingale, indorsed and promulgated at the recent interna tional convention of health officers. For this reason, the first and chief precaution whictf* is being taken by New York and Chicago to resist a cholera epidemic is to secure pure water at any cost If the cholera scare will be the means of driving cities and families to pure water sup plies and the adoption of a perfect system of sanitation, it may yet be a blessing in disguise. The chief danger of the arrival of cholera stricken immigrants, is that one such person may be the means of imparting cholera germs to the sources of food and drink of hundreds of peop e. Given pure food and water, cleanly habits, and good sani tation, said a prominent member of the healty convention, and there is less to be feared from cholera than from other diseases. These same provisions, moreover, will be effective preventives of other diseases and are wise and indispensable precautions under all circumstances There is no necessity,for alarm. That in itself is recognized as a potent predisposing cause of cholera. The family wnicb \s cleanly and temperate in its habits, possess a filter and good sanitary con ditions, avoids impure ice as well as bad water, and uses ordinary precau tions in keeping up the constitution with good air, exercise, sleep and wholesome food, has no cause to take alarm at the approach of cholera. The True Theory of Tornadoes. M. Faye, the French scientist, has recently discussed a Harvard College official report of the tornado that ravaged the town of Lawreuce, Mass., in July, 1891. In passing over a tract of country only seventeen miles long the tornado was observed to descend to the earth and rebound four times. While traveling above the earth it was harmless, but with each descent it became exceedingly violent and destructive^ M. Faye argues that these facts confirm his theory, which is that tornadoes and waterspouts have their origin, not In hot convection cur rents ascending from the soil, but in disturbances of the higher strata of the atmosphere. His contention is Very forcible and probably would not be questioned were it .not that the old convection theory has mon opolized the attention of scientists. The reopening of this interesting subject by M. Faye ought to awaken meteorologists to the importance of systematic observations of the upper atmospheric currents, with a view to the discovery of the causation and the timely prediction of tornadoes Until such high level observations are undertaken tornadoes will con tinue to reap their annual harvest of death and destruction among com munities which cannot bv any means now known be duly forwarned of their approach. A dREAT many people see them selves as others see them, but they don't believe what they see. Dangerous Bathing. ifk" General Paske, the author of a book of travels in lower Burmah, saya that the residents pointed out to him one particular spot on the seashore where bathing would be perfectly safe; it was a triangular area of water bounded by a ledge Of rocks ieadihlr to the lighthouse and the sunken reef that joined it, at an angle, wigi-v the shore. Men had bathed tlTefe times without number, though a hand dangled in the water outside the reef would have been snapped <?ff in a trice by a shark. Provided with towels, we were soon on the beach, and 1, more in patient than my companion, was'the first to traverse the intervening strip of sand, and throw myself into the water. Rising again, I began to swim parallel with the shore, when I saw my friend, who was on the point of following, stop short, white, he called out: "Some in, as fast as you can!" Fully comprehending the danger, I made for the shore with all the strength I could muster, crying out to him to throw in the largest stones he could lay hands on. I knew he had seen the black fjn a shark, . raised, doubtless, by ^"my splash, lb the expectation of a meal. v ? Fast as I could swim, my progress was but crawling compared to the d#rt of the flsh, which presently laid hold of my ankle, his serrated teeth cutting to the bone like a razor. I thought I was within my depth,, endeavored to touch bottom, and sank. The shark had instantly re linquished bis hold, but I fully ex pected another attack. 1 reached the shore, however, without furthei molestation, for the creature waa darting about in all directions, con fused by the pieces of rock which my friend continued flinging at him with unflagging energy. In great pain, and rather faint from the loss of blood, I scrambled to the sand, and lay there exhausted. The next thing I knew was that my foot was tightly bandaged, and my faithful friend was by my side. The dpMciiiaiice o£ the shark, in this hitherto safe expanse of water, was accounted for by an abnormally high tide, which had brought him in and left him there, unable to make his way over the reet. after the ra ^ had sunk to its ordinary levet : ; i « The Apotheosis of Doihi In that "paradise of children," at Japan is sometimes called, the doll is more than a mere toy. The gay, chivalrous race has an unbroken record, which shows them, clad in silken robes, practising all the arts of luxury and pleasure, making war and building temples, flirting fans snd playing with their dolls. In a small collection of elaborate and gor geously attired Japanese . dolls--an hereditary collection of a Daimio's family, you may read thestrange and glorious history of the nation. A company of princely dolls--little ladies and lords ricnly dressed in siltc- bro -aded robes of miniature pattern, elaborately woven for this fanciful purpose by fairy fingers in miniature looms. A party of two-swordedr-am- urai are feasting; dancing and singing girls are going through their perform ances; kneeling Mousames are serv ing a miniature feast. The old "Genroku" dolls of Kioto are spirited and valuable wood carvings, enam elled in colored patterns; artistic statuettes and dressed figures in per fect costumes of the olden time especially woven for them. The an nual girls' feast in the land of the Rising Sun is a feast of dolls. On this day all the family heirlooms and dainty little miniature sets i>f chased silver household vessels and lac dolls' furniture, minusculous but artistic trousseaux, ancestral relics of earlier childhood, are all set out Nowhere, indeed, is the philosophy of toys so well understood. Carlyle's Love for Ills Sister. When Thomas Carlyle died, in 1881, be left to Mrs. Hanning prop erty sufficient to lender her inde pendent the remainder of her life, writes Louise Markscheffel in an in teresting article on "The Last of the Cailyles," with illustrations; in the Ladies' Home Journal. For three yeais after her husband's death Mrs. Hanning retained her home, but llually relinquished it to leside with her daughter, Mis. Leslie. Since 1851, the:efore, Mrs. Han ning has made her home with her daughter and her daughter's husband, in their delightful farm at Drumquin, Ontario, Canada, which is named after "Ccmely Bank," at Ciaiginput- tock. She has her own apartmeat, and in it sits, day in and day out, with her books and her thoughts. The books which form her library are many and valuable, and in mdst cases have the added inte:est of be- iug gifts from her brother. Her col lection of Caiiylels published works is. complete, and was given her volume by volume, as published, by Ca lyle himself. On the title p ge qf each is an autograph inscription, always breathing the affection, which he boro and showed the sister from whom he was so widely separated. "From her affectionate brother. ^ Oarlyle," is the usual form, 6f sigi||f tuie. ' A Tale or the Underground. : Jajrold lady traveling on the Undjir*.. grourfd and finding that the train was approaching a station, addressed herself to a mati siting in the further corner of the compartment^ her only fellow passenger, and said: "Would you tell me, sir, what is the next station?" "Bayswater, madam," was the courteous reply. * ••Then would you mind, sir, when we(arrive, opening the door and help ing me to get out?". "With pleasure," was the cordial assent. , "You see;" the old lady went on to explain. "I am well on in years, ahd I have to get out slowly and back ward: and when the porter sees me getting out he shouts: 'Look aliye, ma'am!' and gives me a push in fron; behind--and I've been aronnd the circle twice already."--Land apd Water, ^ Those who come to sympathize asks lots of questions that would he impudent if not veiled by the tears in their eyes. You cannot depend upon the man who makes bogus money* He givft you false imjjre&jlons. « 'msm xjk v.*