A LYRIC.
Ilow fair it U, the world around,
The changing life; each day's surprise,
To see the tars, the land, the sea.
To look into your eyes.
To hear the ecstasy of morn,
The birds in field and wood rejoice,
The madrigals of wind and trees,
To listen to your voice.
To feel the wnjm, firm, throbbing life.
The friendly hands our linger itrt-ss.
The strong, true work iu which we share.
To feel your soft caress.
How fair it is, the world nround,
How wonderful and weet the past.
That knows its ecstasy and work,
That knows your loving heart.
New York Herald.
His First Faux Pas
Hi
- ARRY HATCH was one of those
handsome chivalrous, rollicking,
' harmless fellows whom every
body likes especially the women.
He bad been best man at more fash
ionable weddings than any man In
town. But thirty years old, lie wus
already godfather to a score of cheru
bic children of "chums" and young
women who once laughed and gloried
In bis unselfish companionship. Harry
knew bow to make love without going
too far. His jokes never miscarried.
He was everybody's friend and every
body was his. lie was "not a knocker"
among men, and he bad the "confi
dence" of all. the set. His wit was
proverbial, and his jokes, practical or
conversational, were the envy of the
men and the delight of the women. He
seemed to be absolutely impartial In
his gallantry. Rich or poor, plain or
pulchrltudinous, every woman seemed
to be a queen In his eyes, and as esquire
to any or all of them, he was a unani
mous "hit."
Though they never said so, there
were many elderly men of his acquaint
ance who thought, however, that Harry
would '"never amount to much." He
was too vacillating, too reckless, too
merry to "cut any Ice." Women with
marriageable daughters never took him
seriously because, they said, he "bad
nothing." And be was poor. A 'dork-
HAKBY SKEW HOW TO MAKE LOVE.
ship In a bank sufficed to enable him to
twinkle merrily at receptions and even
shine at the bead of cotillons. He
danced like a faun, luugbed like
Mourns, saug and played like a trouba
dour. A vote of the women who knaw
him would have established his pre
eminent popularity, but none of them
could think of him as an "eligible
'parti." The dullest man of bis class
never thought of him as a possible
rival in love. Iu a word, he was a
delightful triiler, a butterfly of man-
L'1llri a lllll-airarT irnlli-iu ,..,..1,1 A
ing, laughing failure. Of course, he
didn't seem to care a rap, such men
never do. and so It was all right. .
It was his good fortune never to come
Into contract with other men till Ste
phen Hatch, his cousin, came back
from college, a swarthy, eye-glassed,
serious, saturnine young man, rich In
bis own right, ambitious, hypercritical,
with a patronizing, superior attitude to
ward women, and a tolerant, deprecat
ing air with him. Here, Indeed, was
a personage whom all women must re
gard and all men consider. And they
did so, all except Harry, to whom he
appeared casually as a mere Incident
In the gener-l scheme of enjoying life.
Harry put up Jokes on him, laughed at
him, made all the nice girls "acquaint
ed" with him, and in time saw him
devote his luminously morbid mind and
ample means to the wooing of Dorothy
Carr, the fairest, most amiable, most
loyal and enthusiastic of Harry's many
"girl friends." As a matter, of course,
when the engagement was announced
Harry was nu.itloned as leading man.
Stephen had no "particular objection,"
but Dorothy would hear of no other.
It was some time afterward, Just
while his cousin was In the absorbing
throes of antenuptial business, that
Harry Hatch met Dorothy quite by
chance In the corridor of the Albemarle
Hotel.
"The very man I wanted to see," she
laughed. "You must take me to lunch.
Harry. Stephen will be down on the
two o'clock boat to take me to the
matinee and I want to have a tete-a-tete
with you anyhow. It may be our
last chance, you know, Harry!"
And so they got Into a snug little
corner of the cafe and chatted and
laughed till the conversation turned
upon the tiresome preliminaries of wed
dings, and Dorothy said she thought
the "funniest thing" about it all was
getting the license, and seeing one's
name in the paper. And she Bald that
Stphen was worried to death about
license, thought it was undignified
nd vulgar to have to go Into a public
place and bandy his name and hers
and pass money for a common docu
ment such as peddlers, teamsters and
others might get for a paltry dollar.
But Harry laughed and said that he
would regard It as a proud privilege
to be able to ask for and get a license
to marry any good woman, but that
if her (Dorothy's) name was to appear
on the document side by side with bis
he would consider bis glory supreme
and perfect, etc. And they laughed as
she quizzed blm about how be would go
about It, aud laughed again when he
"dared" her to go with him right then
and there to get a license.
"Come on, Dotty," he urged. "It'll
be a new experience. I know the clerk
and he'll cancel the thing for me and
keep It out of the papers and when you
see It done you can tell Steve how easy
it Is and how proud 1 was. Come, let's
try It."
And they laughed some more and, I
th nk, the waiter brought iu a little
silver pall with beads of icy water upon
It and a golden, green bottle-neck peep
lug out of the Ice, but anyway they
marched across to the city ball and. she
blushing and tittering, and he quite
ridiculously solemn L.oking, they asked
fcr, and paid for, and got a license, and
went back to the hotel bubbling with
enjoyment of Harry's latest "Joke."
Stephen was waiting for them, very Im
patient and Important, and Dorothy
thrust the : .Jed license into her b'.isom
aud with a quick warning to Hurry
went away with her fiance to the
theater.
Then Harry went back to the mar
riage license desk and called the clerk
aside so that he could explain the joke,
and that, of course, he didn't want
the license at all, and that it mustn't
get Into the papers.
"I Just thought I'd come and tell you
to make sure the reporters don't find
It out. We're going to tear up the
license, and "
"But it's too late, Mr. Hatch," said
the clerk, "the afternoon papers have
got the names already. These lists are
public property, and, anyhow, the
license is issued, is out and is bona fide,
until you bring it back."
"Then I must bring It back to be can
celed!" exclaimed Harry, and not wilt
ing for more than a nod, he darted off
toward the theater where, be knew,
Dorothy and Stephen were attending
the matinee. He didn't find them, mis
sed them In the crowd later, and when
he went, rushing to her house at din
ner time, found her mother In tears and
the bouse in a bedlam. The reporters
had been there! The story of the
license was "out." Harry rushed back,
pell-mell to the newspaper offices to
have It "stopped," but when he got out
of the carriage and bought the late
editions of the evening papers, the sotry
was there, looming blnck, sensation:!
and prominent. "All about the sensa
tion in high society." Harry read It
over and grinned "That won't do a
thing but put a crimp In Steve!" he
muttered.
lie pleaded with city editors and In
sisted that the whole business -was a
Jo"ke. They promised to do their best
for hlin, and intervewed him and sent
reporters to Interview Stephen. It was
an awful mess! Harry, out of breath
and .anxious to paelfy the Carrs,' has
tened back to Dorothy's home to find
confusion worse confounded. Stephen
had been there In a towering rage. He
had scolded Dorothy, read a lecture to
old Mrs. Carr, cursed Harry and left
in a sullen "buff." Dorothy's mother
glowered at poor Harry and then burst
Into tears.
"That for your Jokes, you mischief
maker!" she screamed at him when he
tried to explain, and then, for the first
time in his life- Harry Hatch was
abashed, disconcerted, ashamed.
But Dorothy, too, was In a passion.
Not at Harry, but at Stephen. She
even forgot her proverbiul filial respect,
and when her mother resumed, her
tirade at the scape-grace, said . with
shrill vehemence:
"Stop! How dare you scold him?
What is it after all but a tempest in a
teapot! A few paragraphs of silly sen
sationalism In the newspapers. It might
have been a source of fun for anybody
but an owl-faced blockhead like Stephen
Hatch. I wouldn't marry, him njw if
he bad all the money In the world, I'm
of age and the whole thing was my
doing, and I'm glad of it. So there!"
And she and Harry walked away Into
the garden silently, but very confident
ally. Mrs. Carr didn't speak to Dorothy
till the very day of her marriage to
Harry, but old man Carr, "Dad" as
Dorothy called him, who liked the
scape-grace and finally convinced "ma
ma" that he'd rather have Dot married
to a good Indian like Harry than to a
coupon-clipping, Joss-like Stephen, fixed
up matters to adroitly that the wedding
turned out to be the swcllest, happiest,
most promising affair that even the
practical Joker himself had evr "as
sisted at."
"You're all right," said papa, when
the bride and groom were going away,
"you're all right, but well, that was
a of a Joke on Steve!" Chicago
Record-Herald.
Wanted Bacon and Greens.
"Loody here," said Brother Dickey
toia backsliding member of bis flock,
who had Imbibed too freely, "don't you
want ter go ter heaven?"
"Yes, euh I sho' does!"
"Well, you know dey lives on milk
en honey up dar plenty er milk en
honey nil de time!"
The backsliding brother was silent a
moment. . Then be said:
"Only trouble 'bout milk en honey
is bit never did agree wid my stom
ach!" Atlanta Constitution.'
A Philadelphia man earns a living
by going around and waking people up
at stated hours each morning. He Is
said to be doing a rousing business.
DIVORCED BARONESS
iaiini in 1 1 fifr-vy.afc 1 1,1 iiwhui-, f&
Baroness Wolfbauer, a granddaughter of the famous Bishop Ames, of
the Methodist Church, and daughter of a "United States army captain, com
mitted srileide by shooting in a hotel In Jersey City, N. J. The baroness,
who was also known as ..aTh. Txmise Ames Van Weik-Wolfbauer, was re
cently divorced from Baron Wolfbauer, an AuRtrlan, In South Dakota. Baron
Wolfhauer Is in the sugar business in Cuba, with offices In New York. Her
first husband was Otto Van Weik, now a postoffice Inspector, from whom
she also was divorced.
NEW YORK'S WOMEN PEDDLERS.
Fully 0,000 cf Them Pick Up Their
, I.ivinu in the Street.
From the heart of New York' kalei
doscopic life comes a practical contra
diction of the common belief that svom
en form the -weaker sex. Fully 5,000
women work .on the streets of the
American metropolis In fair weather
and foul.
'The .sidewalk Is their hop, the .curb
stone their counter. They know noth
ing f the barest comforts afforded by
a poorly appointed store. They stand
or walk about the whole day long,
while carrying on their petty business
es. Yet they are strong, they enjoy
life after their own fashion, and they
lay up treasure In banks of whose sta
bility they have the best assurance.
This steadily Increasing army- of
street saleswomen does not Include
ngents of any sort who make a house
T
. NEW YORK WOMAN PEDDLER.
to house canvass, nor beggars who
wear the guise of peddlers. It repre
sents only those who have placed
themselves In open competition with
the male peddlers who cry their wares
and the fakirs who offer anything sala
ble on the street corner, from .half froz
en fruit to near-gold watches.
Among them- are numbered the push
cart women of the ICast Side, the
newsglrls, the proprietors of vegeta
ble and fruit stands, from the Battery
to Harlem, the women who work cafe
and theater entrances with smokers'
supplies and the Romany women who
Infest the fashionable shopping dis
tricts with so-called "hand-made
laces." .
The most Interesting phase of the
life of these street saleswomen, mostly
of Jewish extraction, is their, dual
mercantile aud domestic ability. .."A
bachelor maid" is unknown among
them. Iu truth, the mother of the
family is most often In business, and
If there be a daughter or unmarried
sister, she continues to do her share
of the household duties, and boarding
away from one's relations Is unknown.
Wives and mothers run both business
and borne with remarkable success.
WHAT KEEPING HOUSE MEANS.
Requires a Knowledge of Manx Trade
by One Peraon.
A great many men are of the opinion
that any woman, even If not very
clever, ought to know enough to keep
house, and keep It well. This occu
pation they lump off In a perfunctory
way, aa though it were as simple an
operation as digging a ditch or milk
ing a cow.
How many men are there, think
you, who, In one small head, or large
one, either, for that matter,' can con
WHO KILLED HERSELF.
serve a working knowledge of all the
details necessary for the running of
a first-class laundry, a bake-shop, a
hotel, the tailor's trade, the professions
of nursing and medicine, the lore of
a close and Intelligent buyer; the
savour faire of a caterer, a waiter, a
chambermaid, a cook, a scullion, a
teacher and live to tell the tale? And
yet women without number are ex
pected to have all these trades and
professions, with millinery, drensmak
ing, bairdreRslng and a score of lesser
crafts thrown in at their fingers' ends.
When you see a well-kept home, and
children starting off to school well and
suitably groomed, clothed ,nnd man
nered, you may safely conclude that
the v woman at the helm of that house
1 In possession of a Napoleonic head
that would have won distinction In
any field of endeavor. Yet, too often,
all this service is accepted as a matter
of course and without a word of
thanks, says the Philadelphia Inquir
er. '
' And here, dear man, let me give you
a word of advice. If you have a wife
of this kind, or even a wife that Is
trying her best to please you and mal;b
you comfortable, let her know that
you appreciate It. Don't wait until
she has folded her tired hands at last
and laid down In a sleep so profound
that even the baker's cry cannot
waken her. and then order for her a
beautiful $20 pillow. Inscribed In pink
carnations, "To My Dear Wife," or
an ornate monument recording her
virtues and costing more than you
have thought of giving her for her
own use.'
Bring her home a 25-cent bunch of
carnations occasionally as a freewill
offering; take her out to a table d'hote
dinner once in a while as a treat; tell
her in so many words that you really
believe that she Is the one woman In
nil the world for you; kiss her with
out solicitation as you used to do In
the old courting days, and so shall
the wheels of the home run smoothly
and the good wife never feel to regret
the day that sho said "yes."
1 1
All the Difference.
The school board officer was in
clined to be angry when he recently
made a call at the home of a pupil
whose absenco had extended over a
week.
"Why bosn't your boy attended?"
he Inquired of the lad's mother, a genial-looking
woman.
"Why," she said, "he's past his thir
teenth year, an' me an his fevtlipr-r
think he's after-r having schoolin'
enough, sor."
"Schooling enough?" repeated the of
ficer. "Why, I did not finish my edu
cation" till I was 23!"
"Be that so?" asked the' mother In
amazement Then, reassuringly, after
a moment's hesitation, she said: "But
that boy of ours has br-rnlns!"
A Senseless Regulation.
The decision of the directors of the
theater at Halle, In Germany, to dis
tinguish by means of red and white
advertising posters between plays that
are fit for young persons to witness
and those that are not Is causing some
amusement.
From Connecticut.
Connecticut, says the Springfield
(Mass.) Republican, In an article on
Indian nanies, is from qUonne, Jong;
tuk, tidal river; qutat; that Is, quonne
tuckput, "at the long tidal river."
Boiling all your experiences down,
was there ever anything that annoyed
you more than the hearty laughing of
some one you hate?
Speaking of a man and his valet, the
latter monopolizes all the hereUm. ,
PATH MADE BY ELK.
ProTldentiat Means of Escape Far
nished Snowbound Hunters.
A most adventurous story of escape
from a snow blockade In the Cascade
Mountains Is told by G. O. Shields In
his book, "Cruisings In the Cascades."
The members of the party bad lain In
camp three days, waiting for the storm
to abate; but as It continued to grow
in severity, and as the snow became
deeper aud deeper, their situation grew
dally aud hourly more alarming.
Their only hope of escape was by
abandoning their horses aud construct
ing snow-shoes which might keep them
above the snow; but in this case they
could carry but little bedding, and only-
food enough to last them on their jour
ney to the nearest ranch.
They hud already set about making
snow-shoes from the skin of an elk
which they had saved. One pair bad
been completed; and the storm having
abated, one of the party set out to
look over the surrounding country for
the most feasible route by which to
get out, and also to try If possible to
find game of some kind.
He had gone about a mile when he
came upon the fresh trail of a large
band of elk that were moving toward
the east. He followed, and iu a short
time came up with them.
They were traveling In single file, led
by a "powerful old bull, who wallowed
through the snow, In which only his
head and neck were visible, with all the
patience of a faithful old ox. The
others followed him, the stronger ones
In front, the" weaker bringing up the
rear. There were thirty-seven In the
band, and by the time they had all
walked In the same line they left it an
open, well-beaten trail.
The hunter approached within a few
yards of thein. They were greatly
alarmed when they saw him, and made
a few bounds In various directions;
but seeing that their struggles were In
vain, they meekly submitted to what
seemed their impending fate, and fell
back In rear of , their file-leader.
The hunter saw In this noble, strug
gling band a means of deliverance from
what had threatened Jo be a wintry
grave for him and his companions. He
did not fire a shot, nor did he in any
way create unnecessary alarm among
the elk, but hurried back to camp and
reported to his friends what he had
seen.
In a moment the camp wns a scene of
activity and excitement. They reached
the trail of the herd of elk, and follow
ing this, after nine days of tedious and
painful traveling, the party arrived at
a ranch, where they were able to rest
and regain their strength, and whence
they finally reached, their homes in
safety.
CIGARETTES MADE HIM BIQ.
Steamship Fireman Had a Thousand
Package. Under His Clothes.
Antonio Cassoba, a fireman on the
steamship Mexico, was severely pained
recently. Not at being put In a cell,
although that caused some sad reflec
tion. It was loss of faith In humanity,
sorrow at the dousing, to speak nau
tically, of the light of truth as issuing
from his lips. Arch-traitors had con
spired against him, and his story of
their fell machinations received no
credence. 'Twas a sad day for truth.
Custome Inspector G. T. O'Neil, was
on the pier at Wall street alongside,
which the Mexico lay when ho sav
Antonio approaching. A Samson, a
Goliath, a, Sandow, seemed Antonio,
with bunches of gnarled muscle lump
ing out his clothes.
"You're a chesty guy," mused O'Neil.
"That chest expansion would put Fltz
Bimmous or Sharkey out of business."
Then he noticed Antonio's legs, too,
were those of a hercules, so much so
that Antonio walked as If muscle
bound. "Maybe he's swelling with dropsy,"
thought O'Neil. "Perhaps he has ele
phantiasis. Anyhow, he's In a bad
way. I'll Investigate."
O'Neil led Antonio Into the customs
office on the pier and began to probe
the swelling. He put his hnnd under
Antonio's shirt bosom and drew out a
package of cigarettes, Imported, but
not Id the regular way. He continued
doing so until his arm ached and the
pile of cigarettes had Increased to 500.
Antonio's trousers, too, wore fertile
with cigarettes. They yielded another
crop of 500. As the cigarette pile
grew large Antonio grew small. By
eliminating the bunches O'Neill re
duced him to a normal girth.
Antonio was astonished, astounded 1
and almost asphyxiated, says the New
York Tribune.
"How getta I dese?" he replied to
the Inspector's question. "Qulen sabe?
Sancta Maria! Against mla dey con
spire "I slecpa in mla bunko. I waka. I
feela big. I hav da stamock ake. I
feel dese buncha. I say go to da doc,
Enamee poota dese In while f sleepa.
Blmby I go. Dey say wo catena him,
knock a him down, take de clgarros.
Mla lnnocenta."
He put his band on bis heart.
"Carrambo, carrambo!" he said,
fiercely.
"Begorro to limbo!" said O'Neil,
grimly.
Conscientious.
"Yes, sir; that's one of our most
gifted humorists. And yet, sir, he
didn't make a single Joke about the
late George Washington on the occa- j
slon of his latest birthday anniver
sary."
"Indeed?"
"Thut's right. Ah, he's conscientious
when it comes to making Jokes. It
took him two days and a half to find
out that he couldn't think of n new
one." Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Orthodoxy on one side of the fence
U heresy on tbe other sldcu I
A new and revised edition of Ste
phen Paget's "Experiments on Anl- .
mals," with an Introduction by Lord
Lister, Is published by the Messrs. Put
nam. J. A. Hammerton, of London, Is a! out
to publish a volume of Stevensonlana,.
to consist of extracts from magazines
and other periodicals relating to Ste
venson.
It has become known that Andrew C
Wheeler (Nym Crinkle), who recently
died on bis farm In Rockland County,.
was the "J. P. M." whose striking es
says and books have had a large popu
larity In these later years.
Ralnh Fletcher Sevinour Is the nub-
lisher of '"Ceres and Persephone," a
child play by Miss Maud Menefee. The
Demeter myth Is retold for children In
simple lyrical dialogue and Mr. Lang's
translation of the "Hymn to Demeter"
Is appended..
Of middle height, white-haired and
ruddy-faced, Jules Verne' looks like a
sea captain who Is spending the au
tumn of a well-filled life on shore. Al
though 74 years old, suffering from cat
aract and lame in one leg, the old gen
tleman Is hearty of manner and bright
ly Interested in all the world's doings.
Prof. John Ward Stiuison's long ex
pected work on art and the philosophy
of beauty, "The Gate Beautiful," Is at
last announced for early publication by
Albert Brandt, of Trenton. N. J. Jt
will be a quarto of 420 pages and Is to
contain several thousand illustrations!
and two color charts, one being printed
In twenty-four colors.
Paul Laurence Dunbar, author of
"Lyrics of Lowdy Life," "Poems-' of
Cabin and Field," etc., has just read.',
the pro if s of a new volume of poems
which will be a companion to his
"Lyrics of Lowly Life" and "Lyrics of
the Hearthslde." For the most part it
Is made up of dialect pieces and will
oear tne uue wrios ot L,ove ana.
Laughter."
It Is said that the novel by John D.
Barry entitled "A Daughter of Thes
pls," which L. C. Page & Co.. have In
press, Is one of the few accurate stories
of American stage conditions that has
ever been written. Mr. Barry's stories'
flf thOfltltnill Ufa linra al.nn.l- W ...
highly praised by the reviewers,
among others by William Archer,, the
leading dramatic critic of Englantf.
rtoo f n.. T,, . , V . .
iixioo uiaij uuuiiaiuii o new romantic
love story, "Sir Mortimer," will follow
Mrs. Humphry Ward's "Lady Hose's
Daughter" in Harper's Slaguzine. The
scenes of the story are loid in England
at iha tniinr ft rkitndu TiH t.... I.-J.1. ji
... vm. t v. l Uiiouiinil (l 11 LI vil
the sea. The heroine Is a celebrated
beauty who Is lady-ln-waitlng to Queen
Elizabeth, while the hero Is a gallant
officer In her Majesty's miniature nasy..
"David Harum" has passed Into Its
one hundred and first edition, whlcht
Messrs. D. Appleton & Co. Issued im
mediately after the holidays. In the
matter of popularity expressed In num
bers It now takes first rank In Ameri
can fiction, "Ben-Hur" and "Uncle
Tom's Cabin" being Its only rivals. The
book's first century of edltlous wast
celebrated In October Inst with an
Issue of 10,000 copies, printed on a spe
cial paper In a special binding. It was
entirely disposed of by Dec. 1, complet
ing a total sale of 0(10,000 copies. The
new edition will appear In the family
yellow cover, with full-page illustra
tions by Cllnehurst.
He Needed Clothes.
A Western Senator brought to the
Capitol a good story about Minister
Bowen, which the minister himself re
cently told at a dinner.
"I was asked some days after I ar
rived here In Washington," said Mr.
Bowen, "why I had stuck so closely tov
my rooms at the hotel and not showed
myself around town.
"The only reply was a rather pnlnfuD
one, but, nevertheless, fully truthful-
It was because I hadn't the clothes."
Thereupon u.r. Bowen told how he
had been commissioned to hasten
North suddenly and without opportuni
ty to provide himself with the heav
ier wearing apparel necessary for resi
dence in a cold cllmnte. As soon as
he reached town he put a local tailor
to work upon an outfit.
The hardship of the situation was
that Mr. Bowen had ordered some rai
ment from London, and this was com-,
ing across the Atlantic In a British
bottom, which was one of the very
first ships to bo held up by the block
ading fleet of the allies. There was
no help for It, and Mr. Bowen's Lon
don clothes, such ns are necessary for'
proper appearance In polite society...
are still somewhere In South America.,
lie had reason, therefore, for being;
personally grateful when the blockade
was raised and his clothes bad an op
portunity to go forward to Caracas.
Washington Post.
London Sunday Newspapers.
They have started a Sunday news
paper In Londou. It is of the strictly
religious order, however, and It offers
a bottle of water from the River Jor
dan to every person who subscribes for
six copies. Tho water Is guaranteed
genuine, having been dipped out and
bottled under tho direct supervision of
the leading citizens of Jericho and
Bethlehem.
The people do not give any man tbe
right to buy a second horse If he hu
poor kin who are still walking.