The Washington Bee Newspaper, October 12, 1895, Page 3

THE WASHINGTON BEE. ONABL Coats will be loose and short. s will not alone be broad but Slccves of the best conducted blouses comparatively flat at the top, to such an appearance by athers, tucks, or a deep epau- Colors are not nearly so glaring ; the for conspicions hats and crude of color is beginning to wear coats for traveling or bad wear, have deep rippling capes Eton jacket in black velvet, and incy buttons uponit, éither richly ones of those glittering with rhine- sis yery much liked and makes a me toilet, with a crepon skirt. s green heliotrope and sap- ie velvet are also used for lit- kets. gance and richness of garniture stamp velvet or satin coats, but loth one must be jaunty and look regulation morning glove to with tailor costumes is a four- i glove of heavy glace kid, or t sometimes termed dog-skin. fashionable colors are pearl of vhite. mette cloth is the newest wear fashiowable fabrics. I+ is very beau- to look upon, and hence will be thas lost none of its former © among the. women who ap- its excellent qualities, and st of the elegant costumes on ex- tion are lavishly trimmed with e Paris skirts have five and a half not yards. The vack breadths the straight for wide materials bias only comesin at the sides. e cloth jackets must be made for ness only ; smartness is very de- , but without the former dame fashion condemns it. Buttons must be placed only where they are in use. The white and cream colored felt hats aremaking a bid tor popularity, rally trimmed with black, the es of cock’s feathers being used on , With great success, or plain black ce ribbon and feathers may also be calculated to do them honor. € most suitable trimming for the on for hats is the ruche, which minates at one side in upstanding ers or quills. Sometimes these are made of velvet, sometimes n glace silk and again entirely flowers on felt hats. An economical woman can take any \ year’s thick cloth skirt made in the ashion narrow way, and cut it ce inches shorter wear beneath it a ir of ready made black satin srbockers, aud with such a cos- ve may bicycle comfortably. © special novelty about tailor e dresses, which will be universal onas the autumn disappears, is silken stock, which is brought wwice around the neck and pinned in ont with a jeweled pin. ers made to reach the hem of the ckerhockers is an indespensable net. yclists are warned not to have pockets in their coats as the handles a way of intruding in these in a nvenient manner. tis quite stylish to line the godet ts with morreen and no other lin- »inding every seem. rts should clear the ground and rop at the centre in the back. short corsage pointed front and is worn by stout figures. tt revers are worn also large ? collars of silk or velvet that end points at the belt. ton trim the centre box plait, also belts and are put near the lers and belt of ribbon braces d in a fluffy bow on the rs. ittons edged with rhine stones rn on black gowns for ornaments ire no longer an article of gen- g a circular skirt, cut the lin- raight on the sides where the urve comes, this presents sag- i great degree, except for which ought not to be cut in t are French, rather than i design are worn, and are red stylish, v idea is a genuine stock of i bias eight iches wide, hem- _ends pointed and passed tront to the back of the neck 1. brought to the front again, ley are tied in a smart little godet plaits at the back and ich side form a stylish shirt. stout figure a narrow front ts id a pretty style has the sides y lapped over to the front and wn by three clusters of three C rs, and cuffs have all change and by their effects 1c old gown into a very at- new one. (4+ -m.\Lelties in sleeves have quite of mutton design. pe satin will be worn d and usually pointed hoods if} | ENVIRONMENT, “Will you kindly I did not get it?” In a large audience of eager listeners, je lady leaned over to the gentleman in | front and asked the question. “Environment was the word.” “Thank you.” As he turned a sudden gleam of recog- | nition flashed into his eyes; a flush over- spread the face of the woman, her eye- | lids dropped, then both looked away to the speaker. The speaker was talking of Lincoln, his early life, its narrow limits of work | and poverty, out of which this man had | been called into the nation’s life with its larger environment. They had listened attentively, but in hat moment's interlude for these two. the great auditorium by the sea, with its | ten thousand people, the summer school | of philosophy and its study of men and | things, suddenly vanished; the Present | for them had no existence—the past alone | Was before them. So vividly came back the memory of that summer night when they had parted, they felt the breath of the flowers that hung over the low porch where they had stood together in the long ago. No need to tell what he had been say- ing, but she replied with cruel frankness: “I am tired of being poor; I long for a fuller life than you can give me, larger environment.” “This word has outgrown the diction- ary, and is as large as the earth and the eir, the sea and the sky.” Thus the preacher went on, but they heard him not; for them, the word was as large as the universe which lay be- tween their two hearts. The great organ played the last chord, and in the throng emerging from the temple these two stood together for a moment side by side, then were lost in the crowd. When they came again to hear what an eloquent man should say of Dante, each gazed longingly across that vast sea of faces, seeking, but finding not, the other. The majority of that great audience Were people whose chief concern wa3 with bread and butter, crops and com- merce. Yet they came for a little hour to be uplifted into a larger atmosphere, and could sympathize with the poet Dante, who, exiled from the land he loved, found no rest in the world’s environment. This word was in the air. It was illus- trated by the world around them, its work, its pleasure, its literature. All the voices of summer were breathing it. If they looked up, they saw men and maid- ens walking or sitting bare-heaued on the beach, the sunlit air browning their skin and blowing the hair about their brows—society’s latest sunshine fad, in- deed, but an environment they cannot enjoy in the narrow limits of city life. If they took up @ magazine they read how the death-breeding tenement houses in the great metropolis had been torn down, how good men had persisted in face of opposition, capital and custom, persisted against the resistance of the very people they were trying to benefit— as is usually the case—until finally, down came the old sky-blotting tenements, in streamed air and sunshine, with patches of green grass under foot, making a new environment of light and health and consequent morality for the poor, Chame- leon like, we take the co.sr of our sur- roundings. Taking up a newspaper they find that #@ woman in Chicago is making a purer environment for the people there. The city fathers had wisely put a broom in the hands where it naturally belongs, making her inspector of garbage—horri- ble word to put intoa story. But like the Theban general, her illustrious predeces- sor, Epaminondas, who was appointed inspector of sewers, she dignifies the of- fice and does the work well. And altogether there seems to be a dis- position to clean out the worldly rub- dish, to surround it with a cleaner, healthier atmosphere, from the stables of politics to the gutiers of intemperance, and obliging woman stands ready with her broom to lend a hand. The dust may get into her eyes, but when it settles who shall say that she will not look upon a cleaner environment? The man and woman of our sketch, in their separate wanderings, came upon a multitude of people encamped by the sea. It is a quaint old custom of the far- mers to come from miles away back in the country, for a big sea day, an annual dip in old ocean. Here one saw nature, Narsissus like, reflected in humanity. There was cordial greeting of old friends and neighbors. The hearty hand-shake and jolly laugh, and old fashioned feast- ing it was like many Thanksgiving din- ners rolled into one. The harvest had been gathered; the sea had called them. They lov. 1 it and feared it, frolicked and flirted wi.h it, caressed and buffeted it, played with it and plunged into it. It was to them a bath in lethe; for the time they forgot their dull, show lives, washed from souls and bodies the dust of toil, in that pure environment of the white arm- ed sea. “Not by appointment do we meet with happiness, but ‘round some corner in the streets of life, she on a sudden meets us unawares.” Thus the poet voices our experiences, and thus the two people of our sketch came and sat down together in the twi- light hour on a seat overlooking the sea, passively obeying an appointment of fate. “It is @ litfle world, afte- all,” he said, casually. “We cannot help elbowing each other in its narrow environment.” “It is a wide and empty world.” The next moment she would have given much to recall the words; they were a 2onfession of disappointed ambition. “Why do you come with that word up- on your lips?” she added. “It haunts me.” “Because it haunts me also,” he said quietly. ‘Have you ever noticed that when you are thinking about a thing and questioning it, the world is full of an- swers?” “Yes, I have noticed it in life, and— also in literature.” The last with a slight touch of humor. “Ah, now I remember, you used to say of my remarks, that they were full of pleasant reminiscences, no startling sur- prises of originality.” Without heeding this last and as if to lay hold upon the haunting word and ex- orcize it forever, she said: “One seldom finds an ideal environ- ment.” “It takes a strong soul to grasp and bend the circumstances to his will. Most of us are modified by our surroundings. the same old question, which shall vield, the without or the within? It isa ghty business making new spheres.” “But to grow and flourish one must yave an atmosphere. The flowers must e a climate suited to them. But for she added meditatively, “there is tell me the last word; ‘4 always something wrong with the spheres, one don’t fit in.” Daylight had now quite disappeared. The moon rose, round and red, out of the sea, moving slowly up the hor:zon, leav- ing a shining track across the waters. “My little woman!” thus he broke the nce that had fallen for a moment be- tween them. “I believe there is a sphere Where you will fit in; a climate where you ¥ even grow and flour'sh; the cli- mate of home. Will you try It with me? The waves dashing at their feet carried her answer far out to sea.—Lizzie York Case The Most Modern House. A house at Chamounix, built on what must assuredly be termed the most mod- ern principles of construction, is claimed to possess, as its most remarkable fea- ture, a constant temperature, in addition to its strength, durability, comfort and beauty. The builder, M. Caron, first put up a frame of steel water-tubing, allow- ing continuous circulation to a stream of water, and around this frame the houze Was put up, the peculiarity being tha: all floors and ceilings are crossed ani recrossed by the water pipes—the water, cfter passing through the horizontal tubes first, that is, under the floors and ceilings—passes through the vertical tubes until all have been similarly treac- ed. In summer, spring water, fresh as only the water of the snow-capped Alps, circulates under pressure through th> network of tubes, cools off the walls, an¢, after having run its course, flows off con- siderably warmer than when it entered. But in its cour: t has absorbed much heat, which it carries away. During the long and severe winter the water, enter- ing through the basement, is first heated to nearly 100 degrees, and then forced through the tubing. Of course, much of the heat is left all over the house, and at the outlet the temperature of the water is about 40 degrees, and the speed of the circulation of water can be reguiated so as to allow the fixing of a certain temper- ature for the house, which is equal throughout. The house measures 6,000 cubie yards, and weighs 120 tons. The Gull and the Eel. We had a gull, a tame guli, with cli ped wings, who would feed on fish if we would give him any, failing fish, on raw meai, failing raw meat, on worms and i and failing these, on anything. including sparro It was the most fascinating entertainment to give him an eel, for he would toss the eel about several ways until it came to the posi- tion m suitable for swallowing, when he would swallow it; but the eel, not ye: defeated, would often wriggle up in gullet again, and this process would be repeated many a time. So, if swallowing be a delight, the pleasure which our gull derived from the process must have been manifold. Eventually, the eel would weary of the vain ascent of the gull’s gullet, and consent to remain in contact with the juices of digestion. Nature is:a queer mother of her children. One never knows how much the state of domesticity affects creatures that ought to be wild. In the natural state, perhaps, one swallowing would have been enough for the gull, and for the eel. He was.a herring-gull, and it was not until his fifth year that he arrived at the full dignity of his white and pearly Plumage. Before that he was always dressed in some of the dingy, dusky feathers of infancy. Yet in their wild state these gulls are said to arrive at the adult plumage before the fifth year. —Maemillan’s Magazine. Whittier and Old Butler. ‘When John G. Whittier was a child his father had a pair of oxen named Buck and Old Butler. They were treated al- most as family pets, and as they lay on the h ie, chewing their cuds, the two boys, Greenleaf and Matthew, used them as armchairs, sitting upon their fore- heads and leaning against their horns. Old Butler once saved the future poet’s life in a way that entitles him to everlast- ing remembrance. The story is told in Mr. Pickard’s biography. The boy went to the pasture with a bag of salt for the cattle. Old Butler, from the hilltop, saw him coming and hurried down to meet him. It happened that the slope was pretty steep, and the heavy ox acquired such momentum that he found himself unable to stop. A moment more and the boy would have been crushed. But the ox pulled himself together, leaped straight out into the air, cleared the boy’ ‘ead, and came to the ground far below with tremendous force, but happily without harm.—The Youth’s Companion. Feelings Producing Chemical Products. Accor* 3 to Prof. Elmer Gates, cently of .he Smithsonian Institute, bad and unpleasant feelings create harmful chemical products in the body wh.ch are physically injurious. Good, peasant, benevolent and cheerful feelings create beneficial chemical products, which are physically healthful. These products may be detected by chemical analy a the perspiration and secretions of the in- dividual. More than 40 of the good, and as many of the bad, have been detected. Suppose half a dozen men in a room: one feels depressed, another remorseful, another ill-tempered, another jealous. an- other cheerful, another benevolent; if samples of their perspiration were placed in the hands of the rsychophysicist, un- der his examination the samples reveal al: these emotional condit.ons distinctly and unmistakably. re- ‘Well Guarded. ‘The treasures of the Bank of France are carefully guarded. At the close of business hours every day, when the money is put into the vaults in the cellar, masons =t once wall up the doors with hydraulic mortar. Water is then turned on and kept running until the cellar is flooded. A burglar would have to work in a diving suit and break down a cement wall before he could even start to loot the vaults. When the officers arrive the next morning the water is drawn off, the masonry is torn down, and the vaulis opened. + The Clever Corean Woman. Qut of a few simple ingredients (which her Western sister would scorn) and with a few simple implements (that thet sister would not understand), often almost without implements and with little fire, fire that must be coaxed and humored, and humored and coaxed, the poorest Corean woman will prepare a meal which no hungry European, prince or peasant, need scorn to eat. It will be savory, wholesome, clean to deintiness, and pleas- antly served.—From Mrs. L. J. Miln’s Quaint Corea. Milton was quiet and reserved in con- versation, hut thoroughly refined and well-bred. oe MOTHER’S OF GREAT MEN. Schumann’s mother was gifted ir music. Chopin’s mother was as delicate a: himself. Gounod’s mother was fond of paint- ing and music. John Quincy Adams said: “All that Iam my mother made me.” Spohr’s mother was an excellent judge of music, but no musician. Milton’s letters cften allude to his mother in the most affectionate terms. Raleigh said that he owed all his politeness of deportment to his mother. Wordsworth’s mother had a char- acter as peculiar as that of her giit- ed son. Gcethe pays several tributes in his writings to the character of his mother. Mchammed revered his mother and inculeated similar reverence in hi: teachings. St. Augustine, in his books, speaks of the debt of gratitude ne owed to his mother. Haydn dedicated cne of his most important instrumental compositions to his mother. Sydney Smith’s mother was a clever conversationalist and very quick at repartee. Von Ranke’s mother was literary and the author of several essays and other works. The character of Washington’s mother is too well known to need more than an allusion. So One of the few redeeming traits in the character of Henry VIII. was his respect fror his mother. Gibbon’s mother was _ passionately fond of reading, and encouraged her son to follow her example. Coleridge reverenced his mother. He once said: “A mother is a mother still, the holiest thing alive.” The mother of Lord Cornwallis did not, at first, favor the idea of a mili- tary career for her son. Mozart’s mother was a delicate, spirituelle creature, who, it was said, seemed more soul than body. It is said that the mother of Charles Darwin had a decided taste for all branches of natural history. Weber, the musical composer, had a musical mother, who found pleasure in the gems of classical music. Roebuck said that the sweetest part of his life was his early childhood. “Heaven is at the feet of a mother.” PEOPLE OF NOTE. Mrs. Oliphant, with a record of seventy-eight novels to her credit, never touches a pen in the daytime. She thinks the stillness of the night is necessary for good writing. Mr. Depew has noticed a marked change of sentiment on the silver question in the West since his visit of five weeks ago, and he thinks that the growing posperity is working the change. Frederick Yates, the comedian, father of Edmund Yates, introduced the phrase, “First catch your hare.” Among other characters he represent- on the stage was that of Mrs. Glasse. In this he appeared as a frumpish old lady, ostensibly reading out of a well- thumbed cookery-book the following words, written expressly for him by Tom Hood: “Ahem! Hare. First catch your hare. Then do him tiil he’s done!” The pathetic death of young Dr. John W. Byron, the celebrated bac- teriolegist, from consumption, which originated during his experiments with tfibercle bacilli, recalis again the strange fetality. which overtakes so many medical specialists. The list is a long one of all those who have suc- cumbed as victims to their special dis. eases. Dr. Byron has died a martyr to science, but he lived a hero of medi- cine. He was known as the hero of Swinburne Island, on which he spent one whole month among the cholera- infected immigrants. During his brief but world-famous career he braved death many times over in iis most hideous shapes. He defied the yellow fever plagues of Peru, the mal- arial fever epidemics of Cuba, and the chclera plagues of both the Old and the New World. He leaves, too, as 2 valuable legacy much new informatica concerning the dread diseases of sma!l- pox and leprosy. THEIR FAVORITE BOOKS. Cowper read only his Bible and h's ! prayer book. Hallam said that model historian. Livy was the Chepi- rarely read anything hea- vier ts. a French novel. Auber nated reading, and never read save under conipulsion. Caesar Borgia had a library works relating mostly to art. Titan read his prayer book and the Metamorphoses cf Ovid. Voltaire’s favorite classical author was Juvenal, the satirist. Rossini for nearly thirty years read nothing but French novels. of Jean Paul Richter had only five or six books. ali philosoph-cal. Lord Clive said t “Robinson Crusoe” beat any book he ever read. Franklin read all he could find re- lating to political economy and fia- ance. Michael Angelo was fondest of the books of Moses and the Psalms ct David. Hogarth was fond of joke bo aad farces, and enjoyed them imi. sJeraie- ly. Cherubini was a lover of bo‘ and 1ade collections of works on subject. Mario, the great tenor, thing he could obtain relating to spor or hunting. George III. for many years of his life read nothing but his Bible anu prayer book. “Papa” Hadyn liked stories, and he said: “The more love there is in them the better.” Swift made a special study of the Latin satisists and imitated their style and language. Asia read any- Ss FACTS IN FEW WORDS. London has thirty persons whose incomes are over $500,000 a year. Silk is so cheap in Madagascar that ihe poorest people wear clothing made of it. A Minnesota man has sued a barber for $500 damages for ruining his beard. The newest thing out in London’s world of swelldom is a hand-painted shirt front. If you sneeze in a Vienna cafe, even strangers will remove their hats, and exclaim: ‘God bless you!” Buffalo has 2,440 saloons, 113 hotels, 74 storekeepers, 73 druggists and 96 taverns licensed to sell liquor. The number of police in England is as 1 to every 730 inhabitants, 1 to 923 in Scotland, and 1 to 341 in Ireland. It is estimated that two years are required for the gulf water to travel from Florida to the coast of Norway. It is said that most 5,000 horses ship ped from America to Europe recently were intended for slaughter as food. Almost without exception the Am- erican leaders in the revolutionary war were thin, while the British gen- erals were stout men. Paper tires are soon to be manu- factured for cycles. They are sup- posed to last longer than rubber and to puncture less easily. Over 400 diamonds are known to have been recovered from the ruins of Babylon. Many are uncut, but most are polished om one or two sides only. It is stated that in one week of last year one railroad issued to members of the New York Legislature, for themselves and friends, 458 passes. A man in London is making a lot of money by lending out a £1,000 Bank of England note for swell weddings to be exhibited as the gift of the bride’s father. To open an account in the Bank of England a person must deposit not less than £500, and the authorities re- quire the depositor to be introduced by a customer. A London firm, which has manu- factured eight of the eleven cables, linking the United States to England, makes fifty-five miles of cable every twenty-four hours. Buffalo, N. Y., is the latest city to adopt the Pingree plan of potato patch farming for the poor. Mayor Jewett, of that city, has appointed a commit- tee to raise $5,000 for the scheme. A balloon recently sent up in Paris equipped with self-registering ther- mometers and barometers reached an altitude of ten miles and the thermo- meter recorded 110 degrees below zero. One who describes himself as a practical floriculturist, has discovered a remedy for hot-house pests in a soap made from the oil of the fir tree. Nothing, he avers, is more disliked by the insects. South American ants have been known to construct a tunnel three miles in length—a labor for them proportionate to that which would be required for men to tunnel under the Atlantic from New York to London. Paris is to have a competition of laundresses in the Palais de Beaux Arts, in the Champs de Mars. It is organized by the Town Council as a protest against the fashion of send- ing Paris linen to London to be wash- ed. “Grog,” the sea term for rum-and- water, it may not be generally known, derived its name from Admiral Ed- ward Vernon, who wore grogram breeches, and hence was called “Old Grog.” About the year 1745 he or- dered his sailors to dilute their rum with water. The parasitic fig indigenous to the tropics is an extraordinary plant. Its seeds are distributed by birds, and should one drop and lodge in a tree it will germinate there and send a long root to the ground, whence it can draw nourishment. It then rapidly spreads in growth over the unfortun- ate tree, which soon dies. Among the many historic landmarks which are disappearing in Europe are the ancient gateway at Calais, built by Cardinal Richelieu and so graphi cally pictured by Hogarth, and the fa- mous mills of the River Dee, in Eng- land, which date back to the days of King Edawrd VI; while in London the Seven Dials, so famaliar to the readers of Dickens, Smollett, Field- ing and other novelists, is about to make way for St. Andrew's Circus. SWEET AND SAUCY. A woman looks prettier getting a baby to sleep than she looks upon 2 public ; ‘atform.-—Atchison Globe. Promises made in the time of at fliction require a better memory than people commonly possess.—A. Daudet First Twin—This is ry birthda Aunt Jennie—And isn’t it brot Willie’s, two? “Nope. I licked him and made him give *his half up to me.”—Cincinnati Tribune. Without the consent of the worl! 2 only scandal doth not go deep; it i a slight stroke upon the in party, and returneth with the gre. force upon those that gave it.— ville. “The eyes,” Emerson says, “sp languages. They wait for no duction; they are no Englishmen no leave of age or rank; they rest neither poverty nor riches, ne-t learning, nor power, nor virtu sex, but intrude and come again go through and through you in a rio- ment of time.” CHARACTERISTICS OF WOODS. The most elastic is tamarack. the black, or shellbark, standing net far below. The wood with the least clastic’t: and lowest pacific gravity is Fiscus aurea. The heaviest of the fereign wood: are the pomegranate and the lignux vitae, and the lightest is cork. The strongest wool which grow: within the limits of the United State is known as “nutmeg” hickory, w! ict flourishes on the Lower Arkansas riv- er. as UNDESERVING OF PITY Wis Lack of Judgment in Time of Emergen- cy Was Discreditable. There was a man from North Dakota sitting near me on the veranda of a Cape May hotel when a mendicant with @ wooden leg came along and took off ais ragged old straw hat and began: “Kind sir, I am not to blame for m3; present situation. From where you sti you can see the iron pier.” “Yes, I see it,” replied the guest. “About two hundred feet off the enr. of the pier, four years ago this month, * shark seized me while I was bathing and bit off my leg. He got hold of bot of them, but I managed to save one ag you see. For months I languished in a hospital.” “You mean you were a patient in a hospital?” “Yes, sir. I thought languishing was the proper term, but you know best. When I recovered I hadn’t a d2ilar to my name and am now dependent upon the charity of the public. Sir, if you—” “You say the shark seized you by both legs?” queried the m(_. from Da- kota. “Yes, sir, he did. I was swimming about when all at once I felt both my legs seized as if ina vise. I gave utter- ance to a shriek of terror and——” “That is, you cried out?” “Yes, sir. To utter is to cry, [ sup- pose, but if the term ‘utter’ is distaste- ful to you we will not use it. The shark had me by both legs, sir.” “Ah, he had you?” “He did, sir. By a supreme effort ft extricated my left leg from the maw o! the voracious monster.” “That is, you yanked one leg free from his hold?” “Yes, sir. I made a supreme effort, and he was a voracious monster, but if you don’t like the terms I won't use em.” “And you got your left leg free?” “I did, sir.” “And left him to chaw up your right?” “Yes, sir. I am sorry to have to ap- peal to you, but under the —” “Not a blamed cent!” exclaimed the Dakota man, as he brought his hand town on his leg. “But, sir, Iam an unfortunate man!” persisted the mendicant. “Can't help that. That sharic had you by both legs. It lay with you which leg to yank away. Any man who'll save his left leg when he can save his right is a blamed idiot, and he needn’t come whining around me! I’m tender-heart- ed and willing, but I'll save my dollars for the man who saved his right leg. Go on, sir—go right on with your left leg and don’t try to make me responsi- ble for your idiotic blunders!""—Detroit ree Press. Satisfied With His Job. I met a man yesterday who has just come back from one of those unpro- nounceable towns up in the Pennsyi- vania oil regions. He had been spend- ing I don’t know how many months among the Swedes up there, and he has a great many things to tell of them. He says that just before he left—I can’t re- member the town’s name—there was a Methodist revival. A great many of the Olsons and Pétersens and Knudsons were converted. To one of them Nels Petersen, the leader of the meeting, said: “Nels, will you work for God?” Nels shifted uneasily—a Swede, you know, can’t express anything at all with his face except the national stol- idity. “Ae don’t know,” he said, hesitating- ly. “Ae got a gude yob at the factory. Ae tank ae keep dat.”—Washington Post, A Mean Trick. “If you have any wood to chop, ma’am,” said Tired Tatters to a rural housewife in the gas region, “I'd like to chop it in return for a square meal.” “Very well,” replied the woman, with alacrity; “you'll find some in the cellar you can go to work on.” “Fooled again!” ejaculated the poor man, wringing his hands in agony. “A feller over yonder told me you used natural gas for fuel!” He went away disconsolate.—Pitts- ourg Chronicle-Telegraph. ALibera Landlady. New Boarder—What do we get for dinner to-night? Old Boarder—This usually have chicken. New Eoarder—That’s not half bad. Do we often get chicken? Old Boarder—Oh, about three times a week. New Boarder—Well, by jove! that’s pretty fine; but I don’t see how Mrs. Skimper can afford it. Old Boarder—Oh, it’s the same chick- en.—Brooklyn Life. is the nignt we Literally. Blobbs—How did you like the play last night? Slobbs—Out of sight. . Blobbs—Why, I heard you grumbling all the time. Slobbs—That’s it. Your wife’s hat was right in front of me.—Philadelphia Record. A Plagiarist. Mudge—Another man called me a liar last night. Yabsley—What did you do? “Well, as he was three sizes bigger than I, I asked him why he couldn't say somethirg original.” — Indianapolis Journal. A Heated Rivalry. Lloyd- “his is the time when the edi- tors of the weekly papers are wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement. Ficyd—What’s the trouble? Lloyd—Each is trying to see who can get out next year’s Christmas double number first—New York World. Why He Forgot. Snipleigh—I say, Poorpeigh, how is it you have not paid that bill of mine? Poorpeigh—My dear fellow, I have been so busy on that new book of mine that I had forgotten all about it. Snipleigh—What are you writing? Poorpeigh—A treatise on memory, Great Holders. Notes—I am surprised that the Eng- lsh of all people drop their H’s. Coats—Why so? Notes—Because they like to grab everything in sight and never let go. ‘Daagerous, Percy—Why don’t you inhale your cigarette smoke? Reggie—They say it takes the bleach out of your hair, ‘ Aine