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THE TEE-HEE GIRL. ^ X know a little maiden, but really, on my Word, . • if00 would sooner think this person was a Tee-hoe bird. 1 For no matter what you say, jv'tf- it's sad or if it's ga'y, , ./ This silly maiden answers you with "Tee- he-he," 7 j With a "Tee-he, tee-lie, tee-he-he." She's quite a pretty little girl, with bright and Smiling eyes, - 'And, in some things, I understand that j '• she is very wise, Bu| though she knows her letters, ! No/matter what her betters lOr her elders may remark to her, this little maiden, she ; _ Is sure to end her answer with a "Tee- he-he," •--- ^With a "Tee-he, tee-he, tee-he-he."^ If you tell her that your pocket is just stuffed all full of toys, If you tell her you're a headache and she | . must not make a noise, i If you tell her she's your pride, ! Or if you scold and chide, ' ° it really is the same to her so far as I can see, ^ For her answer is a giggle with a "Tee- he-he," i A "Tee-he, tee-lie, tee-he-he." J hare heard this little maiden say that : she was very tired; I hare heard her ask for lots of things , she yerymuch desired; j But to eroiything she uttered, ; Or -mummed forth or muttered. She tacked that senseless giggle that is qijUte devoid of glee-- That foolish little habit of a "Tee-he-he," A "Tex*-hp, tee-he, tee-he-he." I sometimes feel quite worried lest an elf of. whom I're heard Should 'tome along and change this girl into a Tee-hee bird; l When, in all sorts of weather. With each curl turned to a feather, She'd hare to sit the lirelong day alono upon a tree, Just calling out to folks below her "Tee- he-he!" Her "Tee-he, tee-he, tee-he-he!" •--St. Nicholas. HILE trareling in Italy Greuze, the famous painter, metthe daughter of the Duke of Orr, who became his pupil. When he first saw Letitia the artist ask­ ed himself if the lesson would not be for liiin, for she was Nature's masterpiece. The lesson prored good for them both. "Genius comes from the heart," Greuze liad already said to himself on more than one occasion, but had nerer said it so truly as row. He lored Letitia as an angel in woman's form; she had so much of grace, dirine and human. He did not lore alone; the souls of master and pupil had bloomed on the same day, like two roses in the same sunbeam. As yet it was scarcely lore that existed between them, but rather that ineffable emotion that rises like incense from the earth to God. This, like all other happiness, was soon to pass away; it was but a glance, a smile, a tear, and nothing more, but do not these make up happiness? Greuze felt that his lore could be but a brief dream. It was born of folly and must die before the chill of reason. A poor devil of a painter could but lose his time in adoring the Princess Letitia. But lore's time is nerer lost. Now, since kings no longer wed with shep­ herdesses, Greuze felt that only one wise course was open to him--to leare the palace of Orr, thus taking away from Letitia her lore, her regrets and tears. He took refuge in solitude, seek­ ing to escape the image of Letitia, but her face smiled ererywhere before his eyes, like an enchantress. At the first stroke of his brush Letitia appeared by magic on his eanras; when he walked alone memory summoned the young princess to his side. One day when, perhaps to shut out from his eyes Letitia's sweet face, he was sketch, ing a rirgin's head, the Duke of Orr made him a visit. "Are you not coining again to the pal­ ace?" he asked. "My gallery is desert­ ed. My daughter put away her brushes when she lost her master. Come back! Come back! Since jVm went away I have enriched my collection by two heads of Titian. My-uncle would like copies of them by Letitia; come, then, and help her again/' The next day Greuze returned to the palace, pale and trembling at the more idea of meeting the young girl once more. But that day he did not see her. Letitia had fallen ill with the grief of not seeing her master again. He be­ gan alone the copy of Titian. On the following day, as he was dreaming be­ fore his work, Letitia's maid approach­ ed him with a mysterious air, bidding him to follow her. Greuze obeyed like a child. He came into a room darkened by heavy cur­ tains of damask. At the first glance he saw Letitia in the shadow, lying lau- - guidly on a couch. Although pale as death, she blushed deeply when Greuze entered. She offered her hand in si­ lence. He fell on his knees to kiss it. The princess grew radiant. She raised her hand and bestowed on Greuze a sweet look from the most beautiful eyes in the world. "Ah, Greuze, I love you! Do not con­ demn me as an enthusiast. I lore you lmf----" • She bowed her head and seemed to wait for a reply. .Grpuze knew not what to spy. He simply kissed Leti­ tia's hand a second time. "Why should I not tell it? I lore you. Y But you?" Greuze -was still silent", lost in joy. Letitia augured no good from his si­ lence. She withdrew her hand, and, turning away her head, began to weep. At this Greuze awoke from his dream. "Do I lore you?" he cried.* "Ah, Le­ titia! Behold me! I am,lost in ecstasy now that I see you again." "You love me!" she joyfully ox- claitned. • She threw herself into his arms, anO for a second there was but a slriglesoul. Greuze was the first to break the spell. "Alas}" said he, "we are but children. Think of it, Letitia. You love m£? But you, are the daughter of the Duke of Orr! I adore you, but I am a poor painter without fame or fortune. Love mocks me cruelly." "You do not know w'hat you are say­ ing," replied Letitia, Wlio Was still un­ der the charm; "I- love you and will many you; it is perfectly simple.'! "You cannot think of it. Your fath­ er 7 "My father, my\fatlier! I am quite aware that he hasHnJrtew for me a hideous old husband, hisByerlasting Caz^a--or, in case he should fail, that idiotic Count Palleri, whom I have never seen.- I am rich, fortunately, by inheritance from my mother. I give, you, my wealth, my heart, my life, all that I have, if you wiflPlove me forever. We will go to France, and there a cot­ tage will be better to us than a palace. Greuze will become a Titian, and I will be his wife; I shall be there to smooth his brow and to love him;,I shall dwell in his heart. But why do you look so sad? Do you not love me truly ?" ^Greuze allowed himself to be led; he forgot the claims of nobility; with Le­ titia he built the most charming castles in Spain; but he soon came to himself again. "Alas!" said he. "Why am I not a grand duke?" "What a child you are!" said Letitia. "What are those sounding titles worth? What do you want of them ?" And as she spoke the lovely Italian leaned toward her lover like a gracious fairy, took his blond.head between her delicate hands, and gave him on the forehead a kiss so sweet that it would have awakened Alain Chartier. "There!" said she, with a charming smile, "is not that as good as any title?" But they were obliged to part. Greuze went away happy, deeply charmed, promising to come again the next day. "To-morrow," said Letitia, "you shall not go away alone." Once out of the place, however, the painter felt that the Eden lay behind him. Farewell, enchantment! Greuze becomes responsible once more; he dares not give himself up to the poetry of his adventure, -- --•~ "No," he said, "no; I will not bring desolation to the house of this noble Duke of Orr. Letitia is blind; I must see for her." He gave up all his allu­ sions and his hopes; his love alono re­ mained. The next day when he came to Le­ titia he was pale and heart-broken; his victory had cost him many tears. "Ah! Letitia," said lie, "I am sad be­ cause I love you too well, because I gire you up, my holiest and purest joy. Yes­ terday I was mad. 1 listened only to my heart. To day " . "Are you serious?" cried Letitia, al­ most in anger. "Then you do not love me. You hare broken my heart Go! let me suffer alone! I will nerer see you again." And she wared him to the door. Again Greuze had not the strength to withstand so much lore. He threw himself at her feet and swore to obey her like a slave. "Then," she said, resolutely, "let us leave at once. My father is with Count Palleri; when he returns we shall be far away. A carriage is at the door; I have provided for everything; I was not afraid, like you." She drew Greuze to the door of the chamber and cast a last look behind her. She suddenly grew pale and Greuze felt her tremble. "What is it, Letitia?" he cried, seiz­ ing her hands. "Look!" she replied, growing still paler. "Look!" She was gazing wildly at her father's picture. It was one of Greuze's por­ traits, and. like all his heads, it had so tender and sweet an expression that one's heart was touched at sight of it. The duke seemed to reproach his daugh­ ter sadly for learing him thus. In her heart, which throbbed riolently, her father contended with her love. Greuze dared not spegk. 4 "I cannot gy," said she; "support me and lead me back." "I, too, haue no strength," he sadly replied; "onf, last kiss, Letitia, before your father's eyes--and farewell for- erer." She begasi to weep, held out both hands to G-'euze, and said, in a broken roice: "I thank you; farewell." » * * * Fire weeks later the Duke of Orr again entered the artist's studio. "My Aear Greuze," said lie, "my daughter greatly desires you to paint her a portrait. Can you come to-mor­ row?" The aext day at the palace of Orr the painter found Count Palleri carelessly embracing Letitia, who blushed at the sight of Greuze. "My daughter is married," said the duke. "Had I forgotten to tell you" of it?" The-pai-nterljowed to hide his break­ ing heart. He found courage to paint the por­ trait. Twice he was alone with the young bride. The first time she gave him a lock of her hair; the second one last kiss with a tear. When the head was finished, Greuze carried the por­ trait to the studio to give, as he said, a last touch to the accessories, but the next day he left Rome like a thief, car­ rying with him that treasure of art and love. Thiers' Digestion. Singular as it may seem to the unob­ servant, good digestion is an important factor of good statesmanship. A French correspondent tells an anecdote which shows that at least one eminent French­ man knew that fact. "I remember," says the correspond­ ent, "once breakfasting with M. Thiers. There were six prefects at table." Cod was serred. M. Thiers took a large plateful. He then took the oil cruet and poured nearly its whole contents orer the cod. ----I win-; a4armed-a^-seeing an old rrunr prepat-inglo eat such a dish, and could not refrain from asking whether he was not "afraid of doing himself some harm. 'No, no,' he replied; 'I want to show these gentlemen that- I am capa­ ble of governing, because I have an easy digestion.' " j > "• Subjugation. "So you won her hand?" "I don't kno\y^ I',in under her thumb, in any event."--Detroit Tribune. Alcibiades had a typical Greek face, and was called by a contemporary "the handsctpest rascal in Athens." The Doctor and Good Roads. The sentiment in favor of -mproving country roads is growing every year. It has reached our legislative assem­ blies, and bills are being introduced in order to secure State aid in the mat­ ter. Good roads are things which no class of persons would appreciate more than physicians, and to none- would they bring more direct personal com­ fort, aud even practical financial help. On a good road the country doctor can travel ten miles an hour, on a bad one barely five. The time required in doing his work is doubled, the physical weari­ ness is increased, the amount of visit­ ing rendered possible is curtailed. Be- siihs^this, the patient suffers, for the docto^^yisits are delayed and less nu­ merous. He cannot watch the. patient so closely, and he brings to his work a wearied body. Perhaps the horse would argue most eloquently of all, if he could speak, in; favor of good roads. His working life would be lengthened, and his working days made easier. With good roads the bicycle could be utilized, and through its invigorating influence, perhaps, the country doctor would cease, as years rolled on, to be­ come obese from too much sitting in a wagon, his wits would be sharper, his professional work better. By all means, then, let the doctors take up the gospel of good roads and urge forward their construction. They make intercourse more easy, work less burdensome, life more enjoyable; and they are, in fine, an indexof the pro- gressiveness and civilization of a com­ munity.--Medical Record. The Necessity of Good Roads. The need of improvement in the qual­ ity of country roads is so severely felt in every State of the Union that every intelligent effort in that direction is worthy of recognition. MofSt of the States can better afford toliavegood roads than to worry along, as at present, with bad ones. Our roads, as they are, cost us vast sums o money directly, and a far greater amouut indirectly, in the increased cost of getting produce to market Better systems of road supervision, better methods or construction and repair, are absolutely necessary. The work is a vast one, but it is indispensable, and it cannot be prosecuted too dili­ gently.--Louisville Courier-Journal. The farmer who is ten miles from town, but who is connected with it by a good country road which is passable at all times, is, for practical purposes, much better off and much nearer to the market than a man only five miles from town, but connected with it only by a road which is impassable half of the time, and this general truth applies to towns as well as country, for both town and country are interested In se­ curing ease of traffic and travel. The interest in the country road so generally shown all over the Union at this time is one more proof that truth abides its own time. Ten years ago it was impossible to awaken the interest Now the great fact stares us all in the face that if no one can travel the coun­ try road no one can go anywhere. It is the fundamental route of all the world's transportation, and like all the seeming smaller things proves greatest. The last shall be first. Colonel Francis V. Greene, of the Seventy-first Regiment of New York, told the faculty and students of Union College the other day that roads and civilization went hand in hand and were mutually dependent upon each other; the United States had intoler­ able roads, but had reached itsr'high civilization because of its supremacy in railroads. Physical Culture. The possibility of the eyebrow aud eyelash, as a factor in facial expres­ sion, is being more than appreciated by the disciples of physical culture. They are next in importance to the eye itself. It is, indeed, claimed by many, zt^at the eyeball itself is incapable of expression; that it is the drooping or pudden lifting of the lid which speaks. It is certainly true that the slight eleva­ tion of the under eyelid--the expressive' one--produces that languishing look which the Greek loved, and which one sees on the face of Venus. Sir (Peter Lely once painted a celebrated belle of his time, jvho possessed a peculiarly long and languishing eye. It imme­ diately became the style for all fashion­ able ladles to affect the soft sleepiness and tender, moving look of the picture. The Turkish and Circassian womeik use henna for penciling the eyes, while those among the Arabs of the desert blacken the edge of the eyelid with powder, and draw a line about the eye to make it appear larger., The Spanish grand dames squeeze orange juice into their eyes. It is a trifle painful at first, but it cleanses the ball and imparts remarkable brightness temporarily. The ideal brows are arched, well marked, though not heavy, and dis­ tinctly separated. Although, indeed, the Roman's model of beautyiucluded a small forehead and united brows, Ovid tells that the woman of liis time clev­ erly painted them so that they ap­ peared as one. The perfect eyelid should form an oblong, for the large, round eye in a circular aperture, is indicative of boldness; the small, circular one, of pertness. Lashes should be long and silky. • Built with a Purpose. Many writers have spoken of the great wall of China as a waste of hu­ man energy. But there they are in er­ ror. From a military point of view it was of prime importance. There is no doubt that for some centuries the hordes of Mongolia were stopped in their war expeditious at the foot of this w&II, which marked the southern edge of their land; for the wall was nothing more nor less than an immense fortification, the greatest the world ever saw, {ind there w;ere plenty of Chi­ nese soldiers to man it. Scattered all along the top of the wall Were sentinels withifi communicating distance of) one another, aud no enemy could approach without these sentinels signaling the fact all along the frontier. Every gate in the wall had its garrison and every mountain pass through which the wall was built had its military camp. Towns, were built and agriculture developed. _along the wall in order to supply the needs of the soldiers, and this fact in itself was a protection to China, as it increased the density Of population along the frontier. The wall is now in ruins, and has ceased to be of use; but fpr fourteen centuries it helped to pro­ tect the empire from its northern foes. w - A FIELD OF BLOOD. Trumpeter Connolly Tells the Story of the Wounded Knee. Fights Trumpeter Connolly, of the Seventh Cavalry, was -with that famous regi­ ment at' the battle of Wounded Knee. He wij^attaclied to C and D troops,, which were on the hill overlooking the ravine during the early part of the light but he got into the thick of it spon enough to get a taste of the trouble-- "a little bit of the fun," as he puts it. This is the account of the battle as he saw it. He told the story while he was sitting on a red-blanketed cot in his tent a cutty pipe between his teeth, and one heavily-booted leg crossed over the other. ' "C and D troops were stationed well up on the hill," said Connolly, closing his eyes to recall the dramatic scenes of that memorable day. "We were ̂ st­ ing there quietly, awaiting develop­ ments. Though everything was dull in our dirction just then, We knew ge- lienna might break loose at any mo­ ment, and we knew that when the fighting did begin, there would be no child's play about it. Nevertheless, the men took the situation very easily, laughing and cracking jokes as if they were waiting to ride out on dress pa­ rade. "Of a sudden wre heard several shots from the valley beyond, where A and K troops were waiting. " 'What's that?' asked the captain of me. I was just behind him, of course. " 'I think it's the opening of the ball, sir,' I said, 'A and Iv are leading the germa.ii.' "A moment later, at the captain's or­ ders, I sounded, 'To the rear, march.' We retired about a hundred yards, dis­ mounted and advanced on the skirmish line. "Pop! pop! pop! went the carbines of A and K, away over to the left. We went forward on a dog trot, still laugh­ ing and joking quietly. When we pass­ ed orer the brow jatf the hill we lay down In open order and waited for the redskins. "Pretty soon they came along. We had expected to fire upon them at sight, but we didn't. Mixed up with the braves"--here Trumpeter Connolly's scorn was unmistakable--"were so many squaws and pappooses that it would, have been impossible to slicot without killing some of the latter. So we were obliged to let the Indians pass without firing a shot. "A little later, however, word came that about fifty of the warriors were lurking in the ravine half a mile to the front. " 'Charge!' "My trumpet gaven the call that was heard clejy across the continent We sprang forward, each man gripping his carbine and running like a deer. "We found just about fifty Indians in tlie ravine. They were all young bucks and fighting mad. Those fellows fought like fiends, but they were no match for our gallant fellows. C and D cut them down right and left, and inside of an hour we had killed twelve and taken twenty-seven prisoners of the fifty. The eleven others escaped." --New York Journal. A Coincidence. When Stuart Sinclair, of York, Penn., put his autograph on the register of the Lafayette Hotel recently he dropped the pen as if paralyzed. A blank ex­ pression spread over his face and then he strode across the office to the big mirror and intently scrutinized his re­ flection as if to gain assurance that he was really himself. Then lie looked through his pockets, and pulling ocrt every letter he could find he carefully read the addresses. The envelopes had all been directed to "Stuart Sinclair,' aud so the gentleman from York seemed to be satisfied that there was no mistake and he was really the man lie had suit- posed himself to be. When Clerk Yi- detto sought to find a reason for his guest's strange conduct he glanced at the register, and there, directly above Mr. Sinclair's name, was the signature "•of Sinclair Stuart, of New York. The man from York hunted up his counter­ part from New York, and they smiled. --Philadelphia Inquirer. Wind Vortices. That intelligent traveler in South Africa,"Mr. Burchell, says that in the dry season, when the thermometer fre­ quently stood at IMi in the shade, he of­ ten witnessed small whirlwinds which drew up pillars of dust, and these passed rapidly along, carrying up every light substance to tlje height of 100 to 400 feet.,, Prof. Smytlie, while at Teneriffe, noticed this curious effect: A small whirlwind passed close to their tent and seized upon the end of a roll of blue cloth that, was hanging oiit of a chest. Unrolled it. although it was forty yards long, and carried it up into the sky so high that it looked like a piece of rib­ bon; there it sailed slowly round in a circle, accompanied by some hats, caps and other smaller matters, after which, descending leisurely, it fell about 400 yards away. The Chinese Government levies a regular tax on beggars, and gives them in return the privilege of begging in a certain district^ The ancients knew how to cheat Loaded dice have been found in the ruins of Here.ilaueum. . Spanish beauty matures early and fades rapidly; and Spanish maidens marry young. NAVAL WARFARE. . . . ts • Vastly Different Now from/fhe Time of Decatur. The usual spring war cloud which hovered over France and England and the little quarrels of the United States with rJGngland and Spain served to re- awakeiTlnterest In naval development and navy tactics. While it is not at all likely that the United States is !n.dan ger of immediate war, notwithstanding the blustering and bravado of certain of our public men, it is not an idle thing to consider what such a war would be like. If with any European power but Great Britain it would be wholly a naval-War and under conditions entire-. ly new, for since ^rmored vessels came into existence naval warfare has been revolutionized. That brave and inter­ esting little fight in Hampton Roads be­ tween the Monitor and the Merrimac thirty-three years ago revolutionized modern war. Since that day there have been such vast Improvements in sea* fighting machines, for that is what men-of-war are, "that no one can fore­ tell what the next experience will be, and It is this uncertainty, perhaps, that keeps nations on their good be­ havior. ' If Nelson or Decatur could revisit this terrestrial globe he would not know his quarter deck, and all his seaman­ ship would be useless. The maneuver­ ing for the weather gauge is a lost art, for steam has conquered the winds and the waves. Nelson used to say, when they talked to him about Napoleon, that all lie wanted was "to get Bony on a wind," but that would not suit, his purpose now. He must have a vessel that can carry tons and tons of coal, besides its armament, and steam at the rate of twenty or twenty-five miles an hour. „ Nelson brought the art of naval war to perfection with the meians he had. A battle in his days depended upon the wind, and to obtain the weather gauge was the first maneuver. The vessels were made of heart of oak, with huge masts covered with thou­ sands of yards of canvas, that had to be bandied while in action. ,A ship was manned by hundreds of sailors, and carried sixty, seventy, eighty or a hun­ dred guns. In a battle of fleets the ves­ sels were laid close together, yardarms were locked, boarders dashing from one ship to the other, and hundreds of men were slain. But the ships were not injured greatly, and were often carried off as prizes and refitted for the victor's navy. No such warfare is possible now, for, though fleets would undoubtedly give battle to each other, there could be no hand-to-hand conflict. The arms they carry would be apt to settle the mat­ ter, and the, best and most accurate gunnery would win. From the acci­ dents that hare occurred, like the.sink­ ing of the Victoria, it is known that an armored ressel injured below the water line sinks like an Iron pot, with but little chance for the crew. The changes made under the influence of modern science make naral war­ fare an unknown field for the seavwar- rior. Naval strategy, of course, re­ mains unchanged, for that has relation only to the movement of fleets and ves­ sels of war. But naval tactics which have to do with the actual fighting of fleets will have to be greatly changed. All that Nelson asked or ordered was to be laid alongside of one of the enemy's ships. In the war of the future that order will not be made, for it cannot be executed. Fighting a Gander. There are few better fighters than a goose, or a gander, liore particularly. Those ragged white Russian geese bite like bulldogs. It is no mere peck with them; they bite and hang on. The common old farmyard gander is a capi­ tal fighter w7hen he is driven to it. At a certain place in Scotland there used to be a caged golden eagle. He pre­ ferred to kill his own dinner, and^it used to be a cruel sport to watch him dispose of any unfortunate hen or guinea fowl that was put into his cage. They" tried him with every sort of do­ mestic poultry. Ducks, pea-fowl, tur­ keys--the eagle was master of them all. He had no trouble in finishing them off --no trouble even with the "bubbly- jock." At length they tried him with a gander; but he could make nothing of it. The gander crouched into a corner, drew back his head, presenting but a broad, spade-like bill, from whichever quarter the eagle tried to attack him. The eagle fumed and fretted, and grew very angry; he made desperate attempts to take the gather in the flank, but the wise old bird defeated tfyem all. In the end they had to give the gander his liberty as the reward of his courage, and to satisfy the eagle with the much more succulent dainty of a young tur­ key. Some Advantages. It is annoying, I grant you, to be deaf in one ear. For example, In the street while walking with a friend you must keep him on the right side of you, which ever that may be. Again, you have a difficulty in positioning sounds, and this is.awkward, eren dangerous, when crossing a crowded street. At table you may not be able to follow the conversation of the lady beside you unless you turn right round and stare at her, which looks rude or offensive. On the other hand, at table you can turn a deaf ear to all a disagreeable fellow says, and there is something to be thankful for in that But it is at night that the advantages of being deaf in one ear are most appreciated. Ar­ range the pillows sweetly" and stuff a soft silk handkerchief beneath the hearing ear, and--there you are, wrapt in oblivion, lapt in Elysium, and sure of a good sound slumber. YOUB neigh­ bor's dog may bark, your neighbor's cock may crow. You hear them not, but slumber on till the milkman comes in the morning, and you don't hear] him. One half one hears Isn't worth listen­ ing to anyhow, so the semi-deaf may lire content. But isn't there a cure for semi-deafness, did you ask? Not that erer I heard of. I promise, however, that if erer I come across one I will trot it out for the public benefit Splitting Seconds. The measurement of minute inter­ vals of time is one of the most difficult subjects met with in the laboratory, arid this is more especially the case as the apparatus employed is often little adapted for the use of those who lack experience in the precision gained by years of experimental work in physics. A Frerichman lias recently devised a photochronograpli which comprises a', metallic disk, .turning freelyjon an axis passing through its center. The free end of a spring carries a needle point, which bears against the disk; this spring is timed to give five hundred vibrations per second. This rate is determined by timing the spring so that it. vibrates between known vi­ brations of four hundred and ninety- three and five hundred and twenty-two periods per second. Any want of extreme accuracy Jn the determination of the intermediate point is not of great importance, as it can be shown that the difference only affects the fifth place of decirrials of a single second. Of course,., any variation in speed of the disk does not influence the nurnber of vibrations of the spring. By means of a magnesium light traces of the path of the spring are left upOn a sensitive plate mounted upon the disk. The apparatus is certainly not new in principle, but the arrangement is one which has not been described in this particular form. , . .. " 1 : WITH SPOON AND CUP. A Useful Table of Measures to Haas in the Kitchen. The following measures of capacity .may be found useful'to hang in the kitchen for easy reference: Four even teiispoonfuls liquid^ equal one even tablespoonful. ' Three even teaspoynfuls dry mate­ rial equal one even tablespoonful. Sixteen tablespoon fills liquid equal one cupful. . Twelve tablespoonfuls dry material equal one cupful. Two cupfuls equal one pint. Four cupfuls equal one quart Four cupfuls flour equal one quart or one pound. _ • ~ Two cupfuls solid butter equal one pound. Two cupfuls granulated sugar equal one pound. Two and one-half cupfuls powdered sugar equal one pound. -- One pint milk or water equals one pound. One dozen eggs should weigh one and one-half pounds. Skim milk is heavier than whole milk, and cream is lighter than either, while pure milk is 3 per cent, heavier, than water. The following table of proportions is also valuable. Use: One teaspoonful soda to one cupful molasses. One teaspoonful soda to one pint sour milk. * Three teaspoonfuls baking powder to one quart flour. One-half cupful of yeast or one- quarter cake compressed yeast to one pint liquid. One teaspoonful extract to one loaf plain cake. One teaspoonful salt to two quarts flour. One teaspoonful salt to one quart soup. One scant cupful of liquid to two full cupfuls of flour for bread. One scant cupful of liquid to two full cupfuls of flour for muffins. One scant cupful of liquid to one full cupful of flour for batters. One quart water to each pound of meat and bone for soup stock. Four peppercorns, four cloves one teaspoonful mixed lferbs for each quart of water- for soup stock. It Us often said of good cooks that "they never measure, they guess." Not so. Long experience has taught them to measure, and measure accurately, by means of that same experience and judgment. This, however, is a most risky experiment for beginners, whose pinions are still insufficiently furnish­ ed with plumage for independent aerial navigation. Waiting for an Answer. One day a grand postotfice official happened to be passing through a Brit­ ish Government office with which he was not connected. There he saw a man standing before a fire reading a newspaper. Hours after, returning the same way, he was shocked to find the same man, legs extended, before the same fire, still buried in the columns of a newspaper. "Halloa, sir!" cried the indignant head of the department "What are you doing?" "Can't you see what I am doing?" was the answer. "Sir, I came through this office four hours ago and foUnd you reading the paper; I return, and you are still wast­ ing your time in the same manner." "Very true; you have stated the case to a nicety." Hereupon the head of the depart­ ment naturally fired up, "What is your name, sir?" he said. "Well, I don't know that my name is any affair of yours--what is your name?" "Sir, I would have you to know that I am the so-and-so of th<- postoflice." "Indeed! Well, I a:n very glad to hear it I am, sir, simply one of the public, who has been kept waiting lieiyj four hours for an answer to a simple question, and I shall be much obliged if you will use your infiuence to get me attended to." The Octopus. Sharks are plentiful along the Florida coast, but very few are large or of the man-eating variety, so that they rarely molest bathers. Another terror, not so well known, is more to be dreaded. A Northern tourist was bathing off a reef, when he felt something cold and slimy touch his leg and encircle It The sensation was not one of pain, but rather the numb feeling that comes from an opiate, and the man did not seem to realize his danger until a long arm reached up and seized his arm. Then he began to strug­ gle and call for help, and although his friends on shore came at once to his as­ sistance, it took their united efforts to get him into shallow water. By that time the octopus had twined tentacles around both legs and arms, and the man was nearly,insensible. He was set free by cutting away the tentacles, some of which were fifteen feet long. * The English Market, Great Britain imposes no duty on imported cloths. The British customs tariff is practically wholly on luxuries; it is laid on beer, playing cards, chic­ ory, chloroform, cocoa, coffee, confec­ tionery, ether, dried fruits, naphtha, soap, spirits, tea, tobacco and wine. Everything else is admitted free of duty. ^ The joints of electric railway rails are now burned solid by pouring melt­ ed cast iron around them. mma So Many Things I Do Forget,. So many things I do forget, And fain would I remember, Bright things, glad things, my footstep* met > Before they touched December. But the home where my childhood learned its songs, " ; „ ", And the trees where my father set them, And the brook, and the bank where the pine belongs, 1 never pan forget them. So many things I do forget, "And fain would I remember, Bright things, wise things, my footsteps .met ' Before they touched December, But the friends of chi'idhood'3 long ago, By the mountain shadowed river, With a fadeless light their namefc shall... glow 'f •--ForeVer and forerer. "> ,.w ' ..* -VI, So many things I do forget. And fain would I remember, Bright things, sweet things, my footsteps met Before they crossed Norember. * But the blue of my angel mother's eye» And the tears of love that wet them, And the kisses of one beyond the skies, I nerer shall forget them. So many things I hare forgot, Nor wish I to remember, Sad things, hard things, I tell them not To April or December. But the iries of the mountain wood, And the scarlet plums behind them. Would I forget them if I could, J Forgetting who could find them. So many things we do forget, And fain we would remember. Ere feet that danced the minuet Have walked to slow December. But the songs that silent lips hare sung, Our memories silhouette them. We sing them over. We are young, And never can forget them. --Julia H. May in Boston Journal. When Polly Laughs. When Polly laughs, You tliink of merry, tinkling bells, Of music low in fairy dells, Or sweetest notes that e'er were heard From touch of lutcor throat of bird. When Polly laughs. When Polly laughs, All life seems bright and gay, And thoughts of care are chased away, While, softly o'er your heart does steal The gladness of that merry peal, When Polly laughs. When Polly laughs, The sunlight of a soul shines through Her lorely eyes of azure blue. May joy be still the sweetest part Of that blithe carol from her heart. When Polly laughs. When Polly laughs. The echoes linger on the air-- Elusire, yet thrilling everywhere-- While oft in memory's halls you hear The music ringing, sweet and clear, Of Polly's laugh. --Bessy Abbott in Boston Transcript What He Said. So he laughed at your broad, constant smile, dear, And called you a "grinner," and said That you blushed from the point of your chin clear Up to the top of your head, Did this stylish young man from the city. Who threw all the town in a whirl. And who thought it was clever and witty To laugh at a plain little girl. Well, never you mind what he said, dear,: Forget that he erer Came near; Don't trouble your poor little head, dear. About what you happened to hear Him say of your hair and your freckles And the shape of your thin little face, For to each of those troublesome speck­ les Your heart gives a sweet, winsome grace. And I'd rather have your cheery smi|e,, dear, Than all the grand airs that he wore. So fretting seems hardly' worth while, dear, And I wouldn't grieve any more, For a smile, like a bravely done duty, Is a gleam of the light from above, And not all of earth's talent and beauty Can equal the value of lore. --Louisrille Courier-Journal. Parted^ Brown leaves forget the green of May, The earth forgets the kiss of spring; And down our happy woodland way Gray mists go wandering. You have forgotten, too, they say; Yet, does no stealthy memory creep Among the mist wreaths ghostly gray Where spell-bound riolets sleep? Ah, send your thought sometimes to stray By paths that knew your lingering feet. My thought walks there this many a day. And they, at least, may meet. --Now York Tribune. The Old Tune. From out a windless realm it flowed, Fragrant and sweet as balm of rose; Upon its breast soft sunlight glowed. And still it glides where the jasmine blows. An old, sweet tune of other days! Full of the tints of the autumn time; Scents of russets and August haze. Gathered and fell like thoughts in rhyme. May nerer again that once-loved tune Fail in my heart as a stream that flows! Let it run as it will, like a vine in June, Fragrant and sweet as the summer rose. --Eugene field in Chicago Record. / Not in His Line. Mrs. Hicks--Your teacher says she saw you fighting with Tommy Higgins, a boy much younger than yourself. Dick Hicks--Well, if she expects to see me plugging any old professional swatters she's going to get left.--Ex­ change. i All the ^me, * Bings--What did you give me this key for? It isn't my latch-key. * Mrs. Bin^s--You won't have any more trouble with that key than you usually do.--New York World.