Evening Star Newspaper, November 16, 1895, Page 15

EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER :16, 1895-TWENTY-FOUR’ PAGES. 15 Mopyright, 1895, by Bacheller, Jobnson & Bacheilei.) 1S ‘There was a sad heart in the low-storied, @ark little house that stood humbly by the roadside under some tall elms. Small as her house was, old Mrs. Robb found it too 4arge for herself alone; she only needed the Kitchen and a tiny bed room that led out of it, and there still remained the best room and a bed room, with the low garret over- head. ‘There had been a time, after she was left alone, when Mrs. Robb could help those who were poorer than herself. She kept a cow, and was strong enough not only to do a woman's work inside her house, but almost a man’s work outside in her piece of garden ground. At last sickness and age had come hand in hand, those two relent- less enemies of the poor, and together they had wasted her strength and substance. She had always been looked up to by her neighbors as being independent, but now she was left, lame-footed and lame-handed, with a debt to carry and her bare land, and the house ill-provisioned to stand the siege of time. For awhile she managed to get on, but at last !t began to be whispered about that {it was no use for anyone to be so proud; it was easier for the whole town to care for her than for a few neighbors, and Mrs. Robb had better go to the poor house before ‘winter, and be done with it. At this terrible Buggestion her brave heart seemed to stand still. The people whom she cared for most happened to be poor, and she could no longer go into their households to make herself of use. The very elms overhead geemed to say “No” as they groaned in the late autumn winds, and there was some- thing appealing even to the strange passer- by in the look of the little gray house, with Mrs. Robb’s pale, worried face at the win- dow. Il. Some one has said that anniversaries are @ays to make other people happy in, but sometimes when they come they seem to be full of sHiadows, and the power of giv- Ing joy to others; that inalienable right which ought to lighten the saddest heart, the most indifferent sympathy, sometimes even this seems to be withdrawn. So poor old Mary Ann Robb sat at her win- dow on the afternoon before Thanksgiving nd felt herself poor and sorrowful ind-ed. ‘Across the frozen road she looked eastward ver a great stretch of cold meadow land, rown and windswept, and crossed by icy @itches. It seemed to her as if in all the troubles that she had known and carried be- fore this there had always been some hope to hold, as if she had never looked poverty full in the face and seen its cold and pitiless look before. She looked anxiously down the road, with a horrible shrinking and dread at the thought of being asked, out of pity, to Join in some Thanksgiving feast, but there was nobody coming with gifts in hand. Once « she had been full of love for such ‘lays, whether at home or abroad, but something had chilled her very heart now, poor old ‘woman. Her nearest neighbor had been foremost of those who wished her to go to the town farm, and he had said more than once that it was the only sensible thing. But John Mander was waiting impatiently to get her tiny farm into his own hands; he had advanced some money upon it in her extremity, and retended that there was still a debt, after e had cleared her wood lot to pay himself back. He would plow over the graves in the field corner and fell the great elms, and ‘waited like a spider for his poor prey. He had often reproached her for being too gen- erous to worthless people in the past and coming to be a charge to others now. Oh, if she could only die in her own house and nct suffer the pain of homelessness and dep2nd- ence! It was just at sunset, and as she looked cut hopelessly across the gray fields, there was a sudden gleam of light far away on the low hills beyond, the clouds opened in the west and let the sunshine through. One lovely eam shot swift as an arrow and brightened a far cold hillside where it fell, and at the game moment a sudden gleam of hope brightened the winter landscape of her heart. “There was Johuny Harris,” said Mary ‘Ann, softly. ‘He was a soldier's son, left an orphan and distressed. Old John Man- @er scolded, but I wouldn’t see the poor boy want. I kept him that year after he ot hurt, spite o’ what anybody said, an’ e helped me what little he could. He said was the cnly mother he'd ever had. "m goin’ out west, Mother Robb,’ says he, ‘I shan’t come back till I get rich,’ an’ then he'd look at me an’ laugh, so leasant and boyish. He wa’n’t one that iiked to write. I don’t think he was doin’ very well when I heard—there, it's years ago now. I always thought if he got sick or anything, I should have a good home for him. There's poor Ezra Blake, the deaf one, too—he won't have any place to come tot The light faded out of doors, and again Mrs. Robb's troubles stood before her. Yet Bhe Looked Out Hopelessly Across the Gray Fields. ft was not so dark as it had been in her gad heart. She still sat by the window, hoping now, in spite of herself, instead of fearing; and a curious feeling of nearness and expectancy made her feel not so much Ught-hearted as light-headed. “I feel just as if somethin’ was goin’ to hapren,” she said. “Poor Johnny Harris, Perhaps he’s thinkin’ o’ me, If he’s alive.” It was dark now out of doors, and there were tiny clicks against the windows. It was beginning to snow, and the great elms creaked in the rising wind overhead. ill. A dead Iimb of one of the old trees had fallen that autumn, and poor firewood as ft had been, it was Mrs. Robb’s own, and ehe had burnt !t most thankfully. There was only a small armful left, but at least she could have the luxury of a fire. She had a feeling that it was her last night at heme, and with strange recklessness she pean to fill the stove as she used to do in etter days. It'll get me sood an’ warm,” she sald, still talking to herself, as lonely people do, “an’ I'll go to bed early. It’s comin’ on to storm.” The snow clicked faster and faster against the window, and she sat alone, thinking, in the dark, “There's lots o’ folks I love,” she said once. “They'd be sorry I ain't got nobody afor to come, an’ no supper the night Thanksgivin’. I'm dreadful glad they don't know.” And she drew a little nearer to the fire, and laid her head back drowsily in the @ld rocking chair. It seemed only a moment before there was @ loud knocking, and somebody lifted the latch of the door. The fire shone bright through the front of the old stove and made a littl: light in the room, but Mary Ann Robb waked up frightened and bewildered. “Who's there?” she called, as she found her crutch and went to the door. She was conscious of only her one great fear. They've come to take me to the poorhouse!”’ she said, and burst into tears. There was a tall man, not John Mander, who seemed to fill the narrow doorw: “Come, let me in!"" he said, gayly. tsa cold night. You didn’t expect me, did you, Mother Robb? “Dear me! What is it?” she faltered, step- ping k as he came in and dropping her crutch. “Be I dreamin’? I was a-dreamin’ abcut—— Oh, there! What was I a-sayin’? ‘Tain't true! No! I've made some kind of a nd this was the man who kept the and she would go without com- plaint; they might have given her notice, but she must not fret “Sit down, sir,” she said, turning toward him with touching patience. “You'll have to give me a little time. if I'd been notified I wouldn't have kept you waiting a minute this cold night.” It was not the keeper. The man by the door took one step forward and put his arm round her and ki: her. “What are you talking about?” said John Har! “You "t goin’ to make me feel r?_T've come all the way from Dakota to spend Thanksgivin’. Ther all scrts o’ things out here in the wagon, an’ d man to help get em in. Why—don't you cr so, Mother Robb. I thought you’d have a great laugh if I come and surprised you. Don’t you remember I “Be I dren I€ was John Harris, indeed. The poor soul could say nothing. She felt now as if her heart was goinz to break with joy. He left her in the rocking chair and came and went in his old, boyish way, bringing in his store of gifts and provisions. 1t was better than any dream. He laughed and talked and went out to send away the man to bring a wagonful of wood from John Man- der's and came in himself laden with pieces of the nearest fence to keep the fire going in the meantim They ‘ust cook the steak for supper right away; they must find the package of tea among all the other bundles; they must get good fires st in both the bed rooms. Why, Mother Robb didn’t seem to be ready for company from out west. ‘The great, cheerfal fellow hu: ried about the tiny house, and the little o! woman limped after him, forgettiag ev thing but hospitality. Had not she a hous for John to come to? Were not her old chairs and tables in their places still? And he remembered e& Ming z kis: her as they stood before t! a girl. He had found plenty of hard ttmes, but luck had come at last. He had struck Juck, and this was the end of a great year. “No, I couldn't seem to te lette no use to complain o’ the worst, an’ I wanted to tell you the best when I came;"’ and he told it while she cooked the supper. ‘No. I wa'n't goin’ to write no foolish letters,” John repeated. He was afrail he should cry himself when he found out how bad things had been, and they vat down to supper together, just a ey used to do when he was a homeless orphan boy, whom robedy else wanted in winter weather while he was crippled and couli not work. She could not be kinder now than she was then, but she looked so poor and old. He saw her taste her cup of tea and set it dewn again, with a trembling hand and a Icck at him. ‘No, I want come myself,” he blustered, wiping and trying to laugh. “And you're going te have every- thing you need co make you comfortable, long’s you live, Mother Robb.” She looked at him again and nodded, but she did not even try to sneak. There w fire as if she were a good, hot supper reac and her own folks had come; it was the night before Thanksgiving. The End. ——— MOUND BUILDERS’ CORN. After Burial for Centuries It Grows Like Seed Grain. Ohio Falls (Ind.) Dispatch to Indianapolis News. A curious experiment was made this summer by Charles Graham, a nurseryman of this county, and the result lies upon the desk before your correspondent as he writes. Lest year Mr. A. A. Graham of Mount Vernon, Ind., made a visit to the vicinity of Alton, Ill, and catled upou a friend, who had just opened a mound build- ers’ burying mound. Upon the ground grew several large trees, among them an oak four feet in diameter, and thus the age of the mound was established as considerable. In it were found the crumbling remains of bores, and emong other utensils a large rot ccntaining a maize very much 1ike ou present common red corn. Of this Graham secured several grains, turning home planted it. It grew, and the result was ke produced a strain of corn which 1s mcst likely the ancestor of the cern we now cultivate. te of having been in the grave for certainly not less than 400 years, it grew very rapidly, and produced a large, well- shaped ear upon a falrly tall stalk. The ear is well set, the grains being somewhat smaller than any of the present varieties, except popcorn. In shape the grain resem- bles dried sweet corn, being rough and \rinkled. In taste-it is sweet and agree- able. so0 Two. I dreamed I saw two angels hand in hand, And very like they were, and very fair. head a golden b whed the ot nd; "s matted bar. ‘The one was fe A radiant spirit Shed, like an ini Upon bis beau’ and tall, and white of brow; mile of ‘wondrous grace er altar-lamp, 4 glow ful uplifted face. rved Grief, The other's face, like marble Had plactd brows laid whitely o'er with’ pain, With lips that never knew a smile’s relief, And eyes like violets Weng d-enched in rain. ‘Then spake the fair sweet one, and gently said: Between us—Life and Death—choose thou thy rf. By bim thou lovest best thou shalt be led; Choose thou between us, soul, and fear thou not.”” g. ““O Life,"’ at last I erfed. ‘twere wiser Death to choose; and 1 he placed my hand. . he said, in underbreath, sing Life, didst fail to'understand. He with the thorns ts Life, and I am Death. RA SPENCER PORTER. A Matter of Accent. From Truth, | mith—“The first thing the phrenolo- ‘aid when he began to examine my m was: ‘What a head!’"" in shaw—‘Are you sure he did not say: ‘What, a head?'” RAILWAY RECORDS Discussing the Recent Speed Trials in England and America. UNCLE SAM AREAD AS USUAL Moderate Speed Schedules More Valuable to Railway Stockholders. eee AT THE RAIL AND TIE CLUB —_—_.___. The mer:bers of the Rail and Tle Club have been very lax in their attendance at the regular gatherings curing the summer, but the first fall meeting was a great suc- cess, both in attendance and interest mani- fested. Of course, the reccnt speed trials cn the railroads in Englaad and in this country was one of the first subjects dis- cussed. When the word “speed” was spoken by an old engineer, everybody*dropped private conversations, and about ten men started to speak at once. If there is anything that will start an engineer talking, just ask him what he knows about speed, and his usual- up tongue and lips will move with ion of the engine he once Ned a halt, and through gen- t for age and intelligence, the | ccorded the “Sage fellow 1 a throttle on almest ever} road in the country, and besides has con- “hook larnin’,” hence his and I doubt the accu recently made in country on the Yo Shore and_ Jer want to class fully under- "and e up my s are a dozen ro ; have equaled th tral’s record on ‘outsid with ads cannot compete of the nature of th s and tew ne Will come when g¢ et gs and curves will be look out for astonisht | od E ipment Required, | perfcrtr > last | n from Chic > to B rkable ex g and rem tion of rait ath ver been given. It so, in the first p ise the train | covered a longer distance than had ? covered before by a train directed at he diffieulti with the record.” ing fast Of cou ne multi | | | - | of | ert | | ! | | aS) the distance. Otherwise, e mi re of thirty-two seconds, now near ven years oid, wovld represent the rate prac- tiealy attainable, fo my mind the special feature that makes this latest performance note is that it was made west, é oft falo. Nob needs to be told hat th extreme s of speed imply and involv the utmost perfection of roadbed, roll stock, and all mental q chanical pliances for the operation : | They canrot be done regal ple concerned in them them weuld be liable -clapse through nervous nnot he -omplete th d employes of ration that makes i cor give them. It is all very well to s engiceer would sooner run a fast tr than a slow one, but when these runs bi ly f: r the n begins to tell. while to prove of Buffalo off and th ve it is well worth that for five hundred mil a perfection of been attained equal to that of the between that cit y York. words, a west vi may be almost a complete in all appointments and almost for the Ss any e: old country. as well adapte: cessive speed roeg in th What the Public Wants. y almost compleie, although the a stern ment cf e road or any “Ts tual time per mile of the run from Chicago is to Buffalo, including stops, which is the only fair method of comparison, was al- most equal to that of the record ran from New York to Buffalo, and the time, inciud- ing stops, was even faster. The one great difference in connection with these tw) runs was that extraordinary preparations had to be made, amounting almost to a | total suspension of traffic in the one case while cn the New York Central read the fast run was made without disturbing the ar traffic in the least evertheless, the showing that some- thing more than a mi a minute can be made from Chicago to Buffalo is a great step forward and speaks volumes for the railroads between those ci Whether the traveling public cares a rap nother question. A man with lots of money and willing to spend it can be earried from New York to Chicago in less than sixteen hours, yet it has been found by experience that not a train load of nassengers a day will pay the addition to the regular fare reauired ta cover the additional cost of car- rying them in less than twenty-four hours, and there are only two trains a da tween these big cities at that rate. it is proved that engers can be car- ried very much faster it is not likely that they will be, at least for some years to come. “Which goes to prove my former saying, that the fast runs are inade for show and the slower ones for dividends. “This consideration of the convenience of the traveling public is a big thing and carries weight. If the records could be lowered fully one-half it would be different, a but little and traveling on business s and much for pleasure and the traveler has r jon to reach his d beginning of busines but a saving of two or three hours in amounts to Most long journey costs ‘much. over great « is done at night, des and no oc tination before the in the morning. No Need to Hurry. “The usual time between Washington and New York or St. Louis and Chicago could be considerably shor*ened if there was any oc- casion for it. In fact, some of the day trains between these cities are ruin at a con- siderably higher speed than those at night. Of course, it is both cheaper and safer to run trains at a moderate than an extreme speed, and the moderate rate is favored by passengers who have no use for the time that would be saved by breaking their night's rest. “I am looking for the railroad officials to turn from speed on their roads to the com- fort of the traveling public. Much remains to be done in this direction, and in this the west is far ahead of the cast. Any one who has seen the trains that run out of Chicago or St. Louis appreciates the fact that the traveler gets a great deal more for his money in the west than in the east. “Now, let me give you a couple of records for short runs that were eye-openers. Right outside of Washington is a piece of road that holds the five-mile record. It was done in three minutes, or at the rate of 102 miles an hour, being run from Landover to Ana- costia, or the Eastern Branch bridge, by a regular train. Last spring the Pennsyl- yania road ran a train from Camden to At- lantic City, a distance of fifty-elght miles, in forty-five minutes, an average speed for the whole distance of seventy-six miles an hour. But that locality is good for fast runs and the roadbeds are the best in the coun- This Was a Record Breaker. “Seems to me you give too much credit to the eastern roads for fast runs,” chimed in Jerry Sweeney, as tho “‘sage’’ resumed his seat. “I have worked out west, and I know | crabb n° ba | the Red Light they cut the wind when occasion requires it. They have a little line in Montana, called the Montana Union, that, furnishes more speed stories than any rosy in the United States. pare “T pulled a throttle on that road when Jim Conners was dispatcher, and when he told the boys to ‘wheel ’em’ we all knew what it meant. One day we were gvingjnorth, and were delayed in various ‘ways until we reached Stewart. Conners;{wii the con- ductor at that point that™he Wanted our train to get over to Garrison as quick as the good Lord would let us. “We had a clear track whel re started, and it wasn’t long before ob telbraph poles looked like picket fences. The biggest burst of speed was reserved for the home stretch, from Deer Lodge to Garrison, about eleven miles. We didn’t stop at er Lodge, but as we approached that plate I’sounded the whistle as usual, and, you may believe me or not, but we passed through the Garrison yards before I could take my hand off the whistle cord. = “Well, we put up our train and were rest- ing ourselves, when we glanced up the track and saw a dark streak approaching at a lightning gait. We were paralyzed for an instant, but as it slowed up we readily recognized it as the shadow of the train we had just broaght in. I was——” As Jerry glanced around he found the room deserted, with the exception of the re- Porter, to whom he offered to wager a ten- dollar bill that the story was true. —— A TRAGIC RECITAL. How Alkali Ike Described His West- ern Experience to the Tenderfoot. Fran Puck. “Adventures?” modestly replied Alkali Ike, to the question of the inquiring young tourist from the east. “Eh-yah, I’ve had a few little scrapes of one Kind an’ another in my time, but nuthin’ that you could real- ly call adventures. Nacher’l enough, bein’ a man of the world, I’ve been shot by In- jJuns four or five times, an’ stabbed an’ the like a time or two by personal friends, an’ lost in a few blizzards, an’ mixed up in an occasionul fight, an’ narrerly escaped lynch- ing twi for one thing an’ another, an tatred-an’-featherel quite numerousiy, an run over an’ | ily horned by about a thous ini stampetei & . an’ drug acro: the townsh! vat Tope around n y my own broncho, which had bucked me off an’ then kicked | me senseless before I hit the ground, an pret'y tollable near bra’nel with the butt a revolver in the hands of a presidin’ elier, an’ shot in the back by a charmin 3 widder lady for a little suthin an’ brande! by a gang of dran! S, an’ ripped an’ torn an’ sech lixe by several kinds of varm‘nts; but, after all, thar hain't nuthin’ happened to me really worth calln’ an adventure.” ejaculated the tourist. op not cail those adventures, T like to know what you do call returned the modest Isaac; “I reckon ‘epis des’ is about the proper word. Bat, come to think of it, thar was one lit: tl: crecumstance that happene? to me that m bby ignt call an adventure. T was % , the time of, with a huntin’ party, an’ fe canon aione, sor- im after arrer shelf , Whur the side of the canon towered up quite a the air above me an’ fell” on the o' side in a sheer prec:pice to the bottom of the gulch, about a thousand feet below. Wal, bime-bye, I comes to Whur the sheif against the blank wall, an’ I'm sorter fi ‘in’ on turnin’ an’ over the trail, when, all of a ddon, yere comes the grizzly I’m kin’ rumblin’ around an elbow.in the trail ind me, lookin’ as big as,@ load of hay exclaimed the listener; . thank ye! ‘Thar I was. b hemmed in like a cat in a bag, on that thar natrer f,with the snow-capped mountain above m> an’ the roarin’ cattyract beneath y in stories; with a solid wall e me an’ a rampio’, ragin’ griz- 1 me, gnashin’ his teeth a srowlin’ shameful. The var- hidjus roar’ and comes at me, I throws up my rifle like this slug ints him, which same mind no more than a sugar-c: With one sweep of his might ks my gun spianin’ fato tir an’ pumps don’t pil byss be- an’ nacher’l enough 1b for to at the covertid an’ srtiw blue around mouth. An’ then Har? What's t st feckon you'll Mr: Brstman; Hank for me t> come over to n’ take a Little suthin’ with See you later.” n! Tetl me how vere, compiete’ shor me nw, is hollerin’ Wh: you es- at the of the monster who was on the point uring you. What did you do?” I jest stayed thar an’ let him de- vour m2.” st] HINDOO FAIXIRS. Cataleptic Trance by Means of Which They Simulate Death, From the B-itish Medical Journal. Herr Kuhn rot long ago presented a communication on this subject to the An- thropological Society of Munich. He had the opportunity of personally observing two cases as to the genuineness of which he had no doubt whatever. One of the fakirs referrd to had been buried alive for six weeks, the other for ten days. Tue condition which the fakir has the power of producing art:ficially is in all respects iden- | tical with the cataleptic trance. The fakirs, who are all hysterical subjects of a very pronounced type, put themselves through a regular course of training before the per- formance, weakening themselves by semi- starvation, taking internally various veg- etable substances known only to them, keeping the’r bodies motionless in the same on for several hours at a time, &c. e fakir has by these means got himself into the proper condition he has only to lie down in one of the positions en- joined by the sacred books and fix his eyes on the end of his nose to fall into a state of t The fakirs are also believed to use hasheesh for the purpose of lessening the of respiration; that hypnotic sent, associated with other vegetable sub- and used in a special manner, {s by them to supply the want both of cir and nourishment. At ‘he beginning of the trance the fekir has hallucinations, hearing heavenly voices, seeing visions, &e. Gradually, however, consciousness be- comes annulled, the body becomes nd, as the fakirs themselves say, it rejoins the soul of the world.” Sea eens Society Notes. From the Punkinville Gazette. Colenel and Mrs. Jorrabery were to have been the recipients of a surprise party on y evening, but owing to a misun- ing as to the date, the colonel sup- posing the callers to be a political delega- ticn, turned the hose upon them, and the affair fell through. There will be an interesting musical at the Y. M. C. A. rooms on Chestnut street tcrerrow night. Mr. Silas Higgs will play ynly One Girl in This World for Me,” agairst Mr. Jonas Wilbur, fer a_silver medal. Mr. Higgs will give Mr. Wilbur five bars start, and is expected to beat him though Mr. Wilbur is one/of the fast- i New Jersey. ! y enjeyable affair was the Tin Wed- ding of Mr. ard Mrs. Peters on Wednesday last. Mrs. Peters presenjed her husband with a hardsomely engraved tin cup for his office water cooler, and the groom's gift to the bride wes a full sct of thuffin rings. An impromptu serenade was. given the happy couple by the Y. M, C. Al band, who played the Lohengrin Wedding March upon tin horns and a batter pan, We would call attention to the rhymed advertisement of Jinks the druggist, in an- other column. It is the work of that tal- erted young poetess Miss Birdfe Brown, of Ravine Avenue, and manifests:not only a very considerable literary skill, but like- wise an insight into human nature of no little depth. Miss Brown will have a quat- rain upon the Dawson Refrigerator, for sale by Hartshorn of Main Street, in our next issue. Look out for it. Punkinville is going in for golf, like all other fashionable centers. A two-hole link 1s being laid out on the Hicks pasture be- yond the stone mill, at the instance of George Hoboe, Esq. Mr. Hoboe has the record on the Hawkinsvilte three-hole course, which he made in 306—a remarkable score, considering that he played with a croquet mallet and ball, in the absence of the usual accouterments. The Postmaster requests us to state that there is a postal card in his office for George Winterberry. It is from his laun- dress, and requests him to send for iis col- lar. We print this in the hope that a stray copy of this paper may fall into Mr. Win- terberry’s hands, his address being un- known to this or the post office. BEST KNOWN OF AMERICA’S WRITERS. M. Quad, the Detroit Free Press Man, Made Well by Paine’s Celery Compound, Mr. Charles B. Lewis is more familiarly known to the thousands whcse life he has cheered as M. Quad. It must be more than a score of years since the country was laughing over the sayings | of his honor and Rijah, chronicled Lewis to From ¢ e until new M. Quad bas delighted the public with unnum- Lered quaint sketches of character, overflowing with a humor that appealed to readers all more strongly because they recognized the fidelity to life under the fun. the Detroit Free I’re t nong Mr. Lewis’ recent creations the Bowsers, Brother Gardiner, Mrs. Gallup's Tfibulations, "Pos- sum Sketches and the Ariz cker are destined to long life. Mr. Lewis’ admirers will be sur- prised to learn that, like Walter Scott, Mark Twain and other highly wifted authors, he has produced work of rare quality while tormented by pain. Mr. Lewis suffered intensely from rheumatism. It made my days and nights miserable,” be says, “and, of course, the agony was greater in bad! SS Weather. At the same time my nerves were weak, and I was in worse shape than I hope ever to be Yes, I took advice by the yard and m the quart with no success. I was broken it and bent almost double in the body, when wody suggested Paine’s celery compound for the nervousness. That remedy made short work of the ne: ness and of the rheumatism, too. A few doses made me feel much better, and to- day I am well—a happy change that I attribute to the use of Patne’s celery compound. It gives me sincere pleasure to bear witness on the merits of the compound. I know at least a dozen authors and journalists who buve found it a remedy for the same complaints. Rheumatism att is the body when it is tired ort end when its functions begin to act sluggish}: Disordered nerves, feulty digestion and a slow, 4 complete putrition of the body invite rheumatism, just as they do neuralgia and nervous debility. There is no surer starting point for rheumatism than a “run-down,” nerveless condition. ys tions. Paine's celery compound increases the appetite by giving a healthy tone to the stomac! sure that the entire nourished. ueys and encov pnd poisonous matter that the sluggish system has allowed to lodge in the blood, thus causing rheu- matism and kindred disorders. You caunot cure rheumatism by outward applica- ‘The disease is due to internal disorder and must be constitutionally attacked and got rid of, Paine's celery compound bas- done of other people exactly what it did for Mr. Lewis. ‘They were sufferers as be was, and the compound has made them well. ‘The warmest praises of Paine’s celery compound are from men and women of high character and keen intelligence. work of humanity and mercy in commiending to all persons out of health this certain and speedy meang of getting strong and well. it makes ervous system gets completely It regulates the bowels and the kid- es them to get rid of harmful for thousands They know they are doing a THE MARLBOROUGH WEDDIN How a Policeman Got Even With a Determined Woman. From the New York World. There was only one incident at the Marl- borough-Vanderbilt wedding that ruffled In- spector Cortwright’s temper, but his re- venge was sublime. At 11 o'clock he gave orders to his men that the sidewalk in front of the church should be kept clear. Begin- ning in the middle of the block, the police spreac out to both corners, gently driving the crowd back. The acting inspector was standing beside the ewning that covered the entrance to the church, and could only see one-half the length of the sidewalk. Well,” he said to the sergeant who came to report to him, “they didn’t give you much trouble?” “We got them all off but one,” answered the sergeant. “I guess we'd better let her alone.” “What?” gasped the acting inspector. “Where is she?” He followed the sergeant to the other side of the awning, and there he saw a tall, well- dressed woman, upon whose face was writ- ten in unmistakable letters “I won't!” She was a woman of forty or forty-two, wore jeweled earrings, and looked as if she might have an interesting family at home. “Madam,” said the acting inspector, “you can’t stand there.” Why can’t 1?” she asked, defiantly. “Because no one else can. We can't give you any privileges that the others do not have. So, please move on.” I won't! I've got a perfect right here. You don't own the sidewalks of this city,” was the snappy retort. “T don’t claim to own the sidewalks,” an- swered the acting inspector, with perfect courtesy. “But don’t you think it would be rather unfair if we allowed you to stand here and drive the others away?” “I don’t care what you do with the others. You can't get me away from here unless you use force.” And she stamped her foot. ‘Then the acting inspector's eyes twinkled. “War be it from me, madam,” he said, with a low bow, “to use force against a lady. You may remain here as long as you like. But, in order that the rest of the people may not object to your receiving special priv- fleges, I will furnish you with a guard of honor. Sergeant! ‘The sergeant approached and saluted. “Bring me ten of your tallest men.” Ten giants came up. “Officers,” said the inspector, “this lady is not to be disturbed. Form a tight circle around her, all facing the lady, and do not allow any one to see her.”” Tears of rage sprang to the woman's eyes. “You won't dare—” she began; then she seemed to choke with indignation. The men formed in a tight, grinning circle around her, and all gazed at her. She begged them to ‘go away; she threatened them; she coaxed, but not one of them said a word. Her face, which had become red as fire, now grew white, and in sheer desperation she attempted to break through the circle. She might as well have tried to break through a stone wall. “I want to speak to the captain,” she sald, fiercely. Acting Inspector Cortright ap- proached her. With eyes that blazed with fury, the woman hissed: “['ll go away! Let me out and I'll go away! But you haven’t heard the last of thi They allowed her to go, and shamefaced and humiliated, she ran into the crowd and was lost to vie’ oe Not Scared. From Harper's Round Table. Mother—“I wonder if my little boy is so afraid of work that he does not study his lessons?” Little Boy—“Me afraid of work? Not much. Why, mamma, I can fall asleép alongside of it.” Withcut an equal, Dr. Bull’s Cough Syrup. DROPPING POSTAGE STAMPS. A New German Method of Simplify- ing Post Office Busine: From the Philsdelphia Record. A novel system of paying postage on let- ters, a so-called “postage adder,” has been accepted by the Germen postal authorities. ‘The new apparatus is intended to save labor and time to such firms or individuals who have a very large business correspondence. It will do away with their using postage stamps, and enable them to pay for their pestage according to the figures registered by the Kittle apparatus. This apparauts, in the shape of a box, is not very large, and bears in the front sev- eral dials arranged like those of a gas meter, showing units,tens, hundreds and thousands, etc. ;underneath the dials there are six push- buttons, each of which bears a figure cor- responding with the values of the German Festage stamps principally in use, viz: 3, 4, 10, 20, 25 and 50 pfennigs. A long, narrow slot is provided, which will admit the letters to be stamped. Within the box and just over the slot there is a steel die, representing a characteristic symbol; in this case the arms of Germany, with the inscription “Deutsche Reichspost,” as well as an un- changeable number, which is the registered number of the apparatus. Below this are a stzmp giving the date and hour, and a wheel ccntaining dies for the various values, fas- tened in such a way that the six push-but- tons control the wheel bearing the figure dies, while the clock work, regulating the day and time, is accessible only to the postal clerk who comes to inspect the apparatus once a week. If a number of letters are to be postmark- ed, they are placed one by one into the slot, and a pressure upon the knob on top of the apparatus will stamp the necessary amount upcn the envelope with indelible ink. The stamping of an envelope takes less than two seconds, so that with some practice it is pos- sible to postmark about 2,000 letters per hour with this little apparatus.A further ad- vantage of this system is that it is not necessary to cancel this postmark at the post office, which will save considerable werk there. Another advantage is the pos- sibility of paying for the postage, say, once a month, which is there regarded of con- siderable benefit to both the public and the pcstal authorities. Since the apparatus registers automatical- ly the entire amount of postage used by a night. > firm, and since the mail matter placed into a post office can be revised and counted up without much trouble by the postal clerk in charge at the receiving window for mail tbus stamped, it will always be possible to ccmpare the figures of the machine with those of the postal department, without en- tailing much labor upon the clerk receiving the matter. seo Device to Conquer Drink. A Meriden, ingenious device to break one of his horses of the habit of pawing and keeping the men who sleep He has placed a movable board on the door of the stall in such a position that when the horse strikes out with hig fcot he moves the board. From this board runs a rod that passes out over the horse, and to the end of the whip. Every time the board is moved the whip descends upon the horse’s back. After one or two disturbances the animal settled down and kept still. Two writers in the Revue d'Hygiene rec- ommend that drunkards anxious to con- quer their habit be encouraged to drink non-alcoholic preparations that suggest al- coholic wires or liquors. tion consists of sugar, hulled barley, hops, coriander seed, extract of violet, elder flow- ers, vinegar and water, in the proportion of two and a quarter pounds of the first to an equal part of the seeond, half as much of the third, 465 grains troy of the fourth, an equal amount of the fifth, 887% grains troy of the sixth, one and three-quarters pints of the seventh and a trifle under eleven gallons of the last. These are all put into a suitable cask, with a square hole at the bung, four and three-quarters to five inches on a side, the ingredients being thoroughly mixed in the cask with a paddle before the water Is added, and the sugar being put in the first of all. After eight days of infusion the mixture is strained into bottles and strongly corked, Four days thereafter it Is ready for use. To the moderate drinker all this suggests nothing very agreeable, but the mixture is said to look much like champagne. sworn off drinks it with a relish, and no harm follows. less than two cents a quart. One such prepara- lik> white wine, and taste The man that has The cost of the mixture ig ———_+e+ An Automatic Whip. Conn., man has rigged an in the stable awake at is fasten rod la = Compensation, From Punch. The Future Bridegroom—“Well—in another wee The Future Bride—‘And I gain mine!” They I surrender my liberty dissemble their joy.