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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (March 18, 1900)
28 THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, MARCH 18, 1900. . r, ,. .. 1. iiti .. ..- i. .. -n 1 g- ig-itru -u ujil ntsn- -il-rn w. t TF A 9. rm M u l ; tm u Mere Clansnm. Poor Tommy Atkins pared around The duply, glaring veldt: No lonred-for water had lie found And fearful thirst he felt. A comrade walked beside him there And murmured, with a wink, "laagers, laaagers everywhere. And not a drop to drink." Chicago Tribune. BUT HE GOT THE GIRL. "Wild Tussle Willi Xew Footgear, but Winn Out in Old Shoes. Last week, says the Philadelphia In quirer, the young man Invested In an en t re new outfit of wearing apparel, from shoes to hat. The Investment was made at that particular time because the young man intended to call on a certain fair one xip the state last Sunday, and hoped well, he hoped that he wouldn't have to return to Philadelphia with "I can only be a sister to you " ringing In his ears. Sunday morning after breakfast the youn,j man repaired to his room to dress. Every thing went all right until he started to put on his shoes. The latter were a trifle too short and a trifle too narrow. "It'd be all right If I were going to stay here In Philadelphia, and could run home and take them off If they got to hurting too much," soliloquized the young man, "but something's got to be done with them before I'll risk wearing them up to Blank vllle." Some member of the family told him to pour water in the shics and let them stand for a while, adding that the water would soften the leather, and when he put the shoes on they -would stretch. As he had a couple of hours to spare, he did as advised, and then finished dressing. Af ter sitting around for perhaps an hour and a half, he poured the water out of his shoes and then tried to pull them on. Naturally, being wet Inside and out, they leluscd to go on, no matter how their own er pulled and tugged. At last, with but 20-odd minutes in which to catch the train before him, the young man decided to dry his footwear In the oven of the kitchen range. Suiting his action to the thought, he soon had the shoes Inside the oven and the door shut. Ten minutes later, when he went to get the shoes, he found that they had dried. Also that the soles had curled up so that they resembled a pair of old-fashioned "rocker" skates. More than that, the leather was as springy as a bit of steel, and nothing he could do would restore the soles to their original state of flatness. "I had but one pair of shoes In the world just then," the young man declared after ward, in telling the Incident to a confiden tial friend, "and they were so shabby al most any self-respecting hobo would have turned them down. But It -was either that pair or stay at home, so I got Into them. Say, you should have seen the contrast between those old shoes and the remainder of my brand-new outfit. It would have made a horse laugh." "What did your girl say?" "She oh, well. I didn't bring the ring back that I took out to her home with me." DAVID IIARUM IX MAINE. Kennebec Horse Trade, in "Which Diamond Cuts Diumond. "I met Al Stephens out on the ro'd here a ways," said the Kennebec David Harum to me. "Al is all the time trying to stick me on a boss trade. We pulled up to one side of the ro'd and got to talkln' hoss. " 'What ye got there between the fills?' says Al. " 'Oh, nothln' much jest a hunk of crowbalt I picked up day before yesterday nothln' ye'd want to look at, I guess. " 'Wal. by gracious, from what I can see from here I like the looks of him pret ty well. says Al. " 'Don't b'lieve he's anything ye want.' says I. But that jest tussed Al up. Ho thought I Teally had hold of a good one. So he got out of the sleigh and felt of the critter's legs. While he was doln that I looked his hoss over. AVal, It ain't necessary to give the conversation that follov.ed. but the upshot of, the thing was we shifted. "The hoss I turned over to Al was the wust blamed balker there was In the whole County of Kennebec The only way you could drive him was by usln a special harness and we didn't let the harness go in that change of hoss flesh. "After we had shifted the harness and had got hitched up once more, we both got into our sleighs, and wal, we sat there lookln at each other. Neither seemed to be wlllin to start. I suspected that I had a bomb in between my shafts, as well as Al. " 'Honest, now. Al,' says I, 'what is the matter with this hoss?' " 'Well, you might say he was a leetle high pressure,' says he with a grin. 'Go ahead and start him up and hear the way he blows off steam. "But I haven't been in the hoss busi ness SO years without knowin" what to do lor a breather. I just flipped out of the .sleigh, took out a piece of wire I hap pened to have In my pocket, and bent it over the critter's nose and dr-ove up the ro'd a piece, and then turned round and come back. I won't say that the hoss was breathing easy, but he wasn't makln noise enough so that Al felt like laughin' very hearty. "Says I: 'Al, I want to see ye start I've showed ye what I can do -with mine; now let's see what ye can show with that high-priced hoss I let you have. "Al hated to cluck up wust kind; but he lifted the reins and touched old Arlan der with the whip. No start! 'Giddap along!" says Al. But Arlnder looked around at him kinder surprised and plant ed his feet firmer In the snow. "Then Al got Interested. He used his whip and I let him have mine. Told him I didn't mean, to drive very fast and shouldn't need it When I went over the hill Al had rot discouraged. He'd un harnessed, left the sleigh by the side of the ro'd and had started for home leadln the hoss. "Oh, no! No grudge on either side. Hoss dlck'rln Is hoss dlck'rln' up In Kennebec County." Lewiston (Me.) Journal. "WANTED TO GO TO HADES. How the Commodore Fooled Secre tary Lonfr's Messenger. For several years there was employed as messenger and doorkeeper for the Sec retary of the Navy a stalwart colored man who was acquainted with the personal appearance of nearly every officer in the navy who visited "Washington during his stay "in office." He even came to con sider himself quite a personage, and when officers returning from a long cruise would appear In person to report he was often a little too familiar to suit the tastes of some of the more esthetic of our tars. Usually, however, he received a good-natured response to his effusive greeting, and was generally regarded as harmless. If not useful. Not long ago a gruff old sea dog, a com modore, who had just returned from for eign shares, thought he would have some fun with the colored man and brother. In answer to the greeting he received, the Commodore said: "What, John, are you still here? Why. I thought you would have been promoted ere this. It is a burning shame that you. who have served the Government and the party so faithfully should be left here. If I were you I would ask for a Consulship somewhere. You could get it easily, and you deserve It Tou just stick It out and you'll get a chance to travel to foreign countries. Insist on It." "Well. Mistah Commodore, whar do y'u fink I had oughter go?" "Why, Just tell the Secretary that you want to be Consul to Hades." "What's that?" "Oh. that is a nice warm place, where the climate will just suit you." Sure enough the colored brother went In to the Secretary at the first opportunity. He stood there till Mr. Long noticed his expectant look and Inquired what he could do for him. "Mistah Secretary, I'se tired of my Job; I don't like it" "What is the matter now?" asked the august official, not a little surprised. "I wants to be Consul. The Republicans hain't treated me right, nohow; I'se worked mighty hard fur the pahty down in Alabam', and I wants to be Consul." Scenting something. Long asked him where he wanted to be Consul to. "I think that I'd like pow-ful well to go to Hades, suh." "Hades!" ejaculated Long, laughing. "Who told you about that?" "Commodo' ." "Well, you go and find out Just where that Is and come back, and If you want to go there then I guess we can fix you up," said the Secretary, almost smothered with a desire to laugh. The story got out somehow, as such stories do. Some say the Secretary thought it too good to keep, but at any rate It was soon current throughout the department, and the doorkeeper, much chagrined at the laughter It caused, re signed, and is today shaving customers In a barber shop in a hotel not far from the Capitol. Wahington Post RESENTED INSINUATION. "Mike, the Raw Recruit, Suiters From Mai de Mer. Captain Reid. of the United States transport Sherman, has been running be tween San Francisco and Manila with troopa for over a year. He has had 6ome funny experiences, and in a letter to hs father, in Pittsburg, lately, told the fol lowing story of an Irish recruit who was going over to join the Fourth Cavalry. The big trooper had got outside the Faral- lones on her voyage West, when she began to feel the heave of the Pacific. Of course, most of the soldiers became seasick, and the majority of them were hanging over the rail in various stages of dejection. The Irish recruit held out as long as pos sible, but he soon felt a few premonitory qualms and began paying tribute to Nep tune, like the others. The captain In charge of the draft was passing along the deck, putting a kind word here and a sentence of encourage ment there. He came to "Mike, and. stopping beside him, said: "You're pretty bad, my lad." "OI am." said the soldier, trying to stand at attention and salute his superior, "an' OI suppose th' docthor can't do annythln fur me?" "I'm afraid not Poor fellow, you have a weak stomach." The Irishman bristled up at this in in dignation. "OI don't know about thot" he gasped. "OI notice Ol'm throwin' as far as anny av th' rest av thlm"." Pittsburg News. Kentucky Ways. A certain youth of Louisville, while call ing on a Blue-Grass belle, was so embold ened by her gracious manner to him that he flung his arms around her neck and kissed her. "If you ever do that again," exclaimed the tousled girl hotly, "I shall tell papa." The young man took this for a mere fem inine bluff, and promptly repeated the dose. The outraged girl flung out of the room an J Into her father's study. She found him oiling his gun. Somehow the sight sobered her. so she merely said: "There Is some pt.e In the parlor who wishes to see you." Then she went up to her room to have a good cry- The father brlekly stepped Into the other ror.ii. still holding his half-oiled gun In his hands. At the sight of the old man with the gun the yoijn& man lost no time, but Jumped clear through one of the parlor windows mi vanished over the garden wall before the hospitable colonel could even ask h.m what he would take. Aftei this startling episode In Kentucky high life many months waned before the participants In it could be brought to gether again. Collier's Weekly. Vegetable Talk. Beets I would bleed for you. Capsicum You are too hot-tempered. Celery You are a stick. Egg plant You are no chicken. Lettuce Shall we? Mushroom You are an upstart. Onion You bring tears to my eyes. Peas I am willing to "shell out" Spinach You are very green. Tomato You are too saucy. Turnip I am mashed on yuo. Carrot You are courageous. Cucumber Why are you so cold? ii a a Oh! "Pray, dsr, what do you think about when you sit down to meals?" "Sweetest," replied the old man, "I only think about chew!" And Mrs. H. put her anra about his neck and kissed him. What to Eat After the Ball. Mrs. Wederley (unmasking) Oh, but didn't I fool you, though! You had no idea you were flirting with your wife all evening. Mr. Wederly No, I hadn't You were so very agreeable I was completely deceived. Chicago News. AS TO THE "NEW CENTURY. 3Ir. BJones Practically Demonstrates to Mr. BJones. "I don't care!" said Mrs. BJones, at the end of the argument "You might as well try to tell me that black is white and ex pect me to believe It as expect to convince me this time. You have convinced me too often against my will and my better judg ment If 1S0O isn't the first year of the new century, then what is the use of changing IS to 19 at all?" "But my dear," said BJones, "the years of the 13th century began with the figures IS." "So you say so you say," sighed Mrs. BJones. "and I suppose you are correct In that, out it Isn't logical. After all, men had all the say In the making of the cen turies. Women, as usual, had to submit though It has always been one of the greatest puzzles of my life to understand why we should have had to call the lSOOs the 1900's for that is what we were do ing when we were calling them the 19th century, wasn't it? Don't talk to me about women being Inconsistent, Mr. BJones don't talk to me! hold on a minute," she added, as he took his hat from the rack, "I am going out to do a few little er rands, and I would like a couple of dol lars." "All right" said he, "you don't object to pennies, do you? You can work 'em off on people better than I can, and I have a whole pouch of them that I brought home from the store." "I believe In pennies," said she. "When I use pennies I don t ever need to say 'Keep the change,' and If you would fill your pockets with them and use them 'for common it would be a big saving." "AH right!" said BJones, going toward a table with an alacrity and cheerfulness that might have made Mrs. BJones sus picions. '-'You say you want 52 here! let me count!" He toled out penny after penny until he had reached the century mark, and then he said, with a tinge of triumph In his voice. "Two dollars! and there you are, my dear!" "There I am not!" she said, angrily. "Have you forgotten how to count?" He took another handful of pennies and began: "Second dollar and one; second dollar and two; second dollar and three "Now, then, my dear," he said, suddenly, "was the first penny after the first dollar How're They Comln' With, Yont I started 'round the other day. To satisfy myself How fast the general public Was accumulating wealth. Each individual I met I interviewed, you see. So now I'll try and tell you what Some of them told to me. A shoemaker said he wan "pegging away, A lawyer was "lying low." A doctor was making his money "dead easy,' It's the truth they told me so. A butcher managed to make "ends meat" The Iceman had "struck a frost." The plumber I met was "hitting the pipe." Poor fellow, I guess he's lost A pickpocket was "taking- things c&sy." While a baker was "loafing ah day"; A grocer told me In confidence That "things were going his weigh." A dentist was "living from hand to mouth,' And here. Just to make a rhyme, I'll have to ring In the Jeweler, "Who was working, of course, "over time. A burglar said "times were picking up," But he had to work at night; And even a poor blind beggar sad He was "doing out o sight" An ossified man was having An awful "hard time," he said. While an undertaker told me He was "doing quite well on the dead." A prima donna, who warbles. Said "life went by like a song"; But a little eoubrette. I casually met Was "barely getting along." An oil producer told me He "managed to get a long well," While a Hebrew merchant mentioned He had "clothing to burn or to cell." I asked a spiritualist how things were. "Just medium," he replied; A barber said he waa "scraping along," And then curled up and died. A furrier "ran a skin game," A Jockey was "on the go," But It turned my head when a dressmaker said She was doing "sew and sew." Now pardon me If, in conclusion. Of myself I modestly speak All I'm doing Is digging out stuff like this For thirty cents a week. William Lord Reed in, National Laundry Journal. The Little Blue Bullet. Whiz, whiz! goes the little blue bullet Get ssSss POEMS out of the way when I hum. Tou can laugh at round shot and shell, and dodge as they clumsily come. The big round shot Is a bully loudly he blus ters and roars; And the shrapnel shell gives warning to all as high In the air he soars. As I fly on my death-dealing errand, the men that I hit never hear; "It's the ones that I mlsa that flinch at my hiss, and listen again in fear. I go to my work unseen. I neither bluster nor blow; I but whistle and sing, as I wing my way, and straight to my billet go. I cut through muscle and bone, I cut through heart and brain. I can make the men at the big guns quake as I cut and come again. I laugh at the glittering sword, the lance and the bayonet's steel. I volley them back, heaping dead In the track, aB the wounded stagger and reel. A fig for the round shot and shell, as they finish In smoke and dirt. When I hit my mark I leave wounded and stark. Whiz, whiz! See the life-blood spurt! "In days of old. when knights were bold,' and armed cap-a-ple. They faced the spear; they faced the sword; but never fronted me." Whiz, whiz! goes the little blue bullet Ping, plr.g. and pit. pat. pat When the rifles shoot, ekedaddle and scoot or don't show the top of your hat "Now, look them over, O Red Cross men. Count them up. I say; Was It shot or shell, weapons of steel, or the bullet that won the day?" George Crouch In New Tork Sun. Honey, Don't You Cry. Honey, w'en de lonesome rain Drappln' fum de ricy, All de sunshine drowned out Honey, don't you cry! Honey, don't you cry Sun Ml shine blmeby; r - Bleege ter rain , On hill en plain; Honey, don't you cry! Don't you know de lily feel Dusty, hot. en dry; Llftln' up his empty cup Honey, don't you cry! , - Honey, don't you cry Sun 'II shine blmeby; 'Bleege ter rain On hill en plain; Honey, dru't you cry! --Atlanta Constitution, the second or the first penny of the new dollar?" "The first," said she, somewhat be wildered. "What are you driving at?" "Oh," said he, "apply it to your dates, your years, your centuries and you'll see. The year, or the dollar, 100, completed the first century, and we were not In the second until we began to count one. At one, were we?" Mrs. BJones "camo and saw." But Mr. BJones "conquered." New York Press. 1 t FROZE HIM OUT. Three Detroit Girl Get Rid of Un welcome Visitor. Three girls who had attended the samo school and who had not gone over their delightful reminiscences for a full week, were lounging and talking at the house of one of them, says the Detroit Free Press. Suddenly the tall one, with blonde hair and features to match, sprang to the window, pouted and told why. "Pshaw! there comes that stupid broth er of mine to call on you. What business has he breaking In on our pleasure, I'd like to know?" "None," declared the hostess, as a mat ter of self-vindication. "Will," bexran his sister-, as soon as he had blushed his surprise and -was seated, "are those your new pants? They bag horribly at the knees. I never knew a boy so hard on his clothes," and him 24. While he was trying surreptitiously to kick out the Imaginary deformities, tho hostess had taken her cue. "Are those very heavy-soled shoes full dress now?" sho asked Innocently. "Pardon me," said the third tormentor, sweetly, "but I was thinking of the neck tie. Is It the proper caper now to have quiet harmony or vivid contrast?" "Will." fairly shouted the sister, "did the barber singe your hair? It looks like tufts on a blackened waste." "Guess I must be getting along," he managed to mutter after a maddening si lence, and he got The sister solemnly averred that Will would wreak terrible vengeance on her, but In two minutes they were chattering and laughing as though there were no "boys" or other cares. More Puddln'. "Bobble, what would you like for din ner?" "PuddlnV "Yes, and what else?" "Why er more puddln." Judge. WORTH READING The Bold Buccaneer. 'Twas a bold buccaneer, and he strode the street In a smooth silk hat and a long frock coat; And close to his club he chanced to meet A brimming bard, with a tremulous throat Clad round his limbs, as a bard should be. In the garb of the aristocracy. The singer, he seized the warrior's hand; His pulse beat high, that grasp to feel. "And you come," he cried, "from a distant land. That rings with the clang of your clashing steel! Nay, tell me your doughty deeds," said he, "To enshrine in Immortal poesy!" Today, as of old, will our champions take Their lives In their hands, where the battle la keen; "Tou fought and bled, like Raleigh or Drake, For old England's fame, to serve your Queen." "Well, not exactly that" said he; "We fought for a Limited Company." The bard he winced, but his soul was high; For to break the letter Is not to eln. He thought to himself of Nelson's eye; And of Hawkins who disobeyed, to win, "There were maidens and babes to save," said he, "When you dashed on your raid, beyond the Bca!" The bold buccaneer, he eyed him hard. With a delicate quiver about the lid. He saw in his soul that tho well-dressed bard. Mistook the note of your modem Cld. " 'Twas our stocks and snares, you know," eald he, "That stood In particular Jeopardy." The poet, he heaved a quiet sigh. "Tet still, 'twas a glorious cause," be cried, "For your country's sake you strove to die." The bold buccaneer, he stepped aside. "Tou don't understand finance," said he; 'Twas the glorious cause of s. d." By the late Grant Allen. Jest Hongln' Eronn'. Never wuz much of a feller fer glttln over groun; Thar's Molly, a-plckln the banjer, an' me Jest hangln' eroun t The other fellers air dancln keepln time to the soun ; But as for me, I'm a feller Jest made fer hangln' eroun' 1 An' ain't them fellers Jolly Shakln' the shingles down!' What's she thlnkln of Molly With me Jest hangln' eroun'? I'm Jest the backwardest feller that ever the country seen! Never a manjo moves me fiddle, or tam- boureen; Ain't I lovln of Molly? That's how they set it down! But alius ferever an ever I'm Jest a-hangin aroun ! An ain't them fellers Jolly Shakln' the shingles down! How does it look to Molly, With me Jest hangln eroun? I Jest can't muster the courage to enter the lively race; I'm alius feelln an looking out o' my rightful place. The marriage bells '11 be rlngln all over the merry town. An when Molly's led to the altar I'll still be hangln' eroun' ! And Molly will look her sweetest Dressed In her weddln' gown; They'll dance to the weddln music. An' leave me hangln' eroun'! Atlanta Constitution. Wasted Genius. My Uncle Jim's a wonder. He would know Jest what to do In a military crisis Say, another Waterloo. He could figure In a minute How his side might win the day. And get nut' with banners flyln But none ever came his way. In political transactions He has foresight rare and keen. He would know what strings to pull As he stood behind the scene. In a "coo-dy-tah," I tell you. Genius! That's what he'd display, Changln all the face of his' try But none ever came his way. An ns fur financeerln'. That Is where his talent shines; He knows how folk should handle Railroad pools an' banks an' mines. Puttln' through big undertakln's Seems to him a pastime gay. He could fix em In a Jiffy But none ever came bis way. Uncle Jim Is livin' quiet In his home behind the hill. An' the world gets on without him, Mlssln all his brains and skill. War, diplomacy, finances Would have felt his master sway Had occasion only offered But none ever came his way. y Washington Star. WAS NOT SUPERCILIOUS. She Had Simply Just Been Vacci nated, and It Hurt. There was something strikingly pictorial in the appearance of a young woman who sat in the upper left hand corner of a Jackson-avenue trolley car during one of Us outbound runs yesterday morning. It was due, no doubt, to many things to the aristocratic slenderness of her figure; to her wide, dreamy eyes, the exact color of wood violets; to the great black forest of ostrich plumes that formed her hat; to the geometric curve of the towering collar of her cape. At any rate, she looked as if she might have sauntered out of the pages of some elegant Journal of fashion a -beautiful denizen of picture- paper land, where skirts always hang in just the proper folds and trousers never bag at the knee. Everybody Jooked at her, the men admlrngly and the women coldly, as they always do when another woman is "better dressed, and she with stood the scrutiny with regal composure. She did not seem aware that anybody else was present At last the car neared her corner, and when she had presesd the button and the wheels were almost at a standstill, she arose clamly and glided down the aisle. She was at the door when the car cams to a full stop, and, seeing her stagger slightly from the shock, the conductor In stinctively laid his hand upon her arm. It was a courteous and respectful act, and one that might have saved her from a fall, but the Instant his fingers touched her sleeve the haughty beauty leaped backward as if she had seen an appari tion. Her delicate face went pale and her beamy eyes blazed. "Don't touch me, sir!" she exclaimed, with a harshness that shocked and aston ished every hearer. Tho conductor was a plain, kindly man, and, flushing with mortification and cha grin, he turned hack to his platform, while the young woman gathered her skirts and passed swiftly through the door. "Well, I must say," remarked an elder ly man who had taken In the episode over the top of his newspaper, "that was about the most painful exhibition of supercilous ness I ever witnessed in my life. Sne seemed to think she wou'd be contaminated If that honest fellow touched the hem of her garment Pshaw! No wonder the poor are embittered!" There was a growl of approval, and 3S-Ss The City Editor Dream. He was a city editor, a busy, busy man. Who tolled by night when work by day were far the wiser plan. When other men were sleeping he worked and worked the while. And cussed the shy reporters in the editorial style. But through his hard and toilsome life one blessed dream he knew, Vlslon-hauntlng, beckoning on, as still before It Hew. "Oh, come the day," he'd softly say you'd sigh to see him there "The day of perfect peace and rest when I can slippers wear.' This was his dream of bliss complete, or rest beyond compare. "Oh. day of days!" he'd gently say, "when I can slippers wearl" And then he brushed a tear away, this worn and weary wreck. And when the next reporter came he "got it In the neck," For city editors, you ken, must never weak ness show; If they, too. have their pleasant dreams the fact you'd never know. But still In secret. Inmost thoughts he dreamed of pleasure rare. Of that bright day of peace and rest when he could slippers wear. One day this city editor, the copy all passed in. Went from this world of toll and strife the Heavenly world to win. Of course they let him pass at once. "Tour punishment," said they, "Was quite sufficient while oa earth. Now blithely come this way." Next day his spirit sought this earth and sought his office, too. They found It sitting- in his chair Just as he used to do "Why slttest here, pale ghostT" they cried. His answer spoke despair: "It Isn't Heaven above, dear boys; they don't wear slippers there!' A. J. Waterhouse la S. F. Examiner. Paw on Skates. 0 me an paw went skatln yeste'day I bet If you Ud bin erlong- 'at yu'd a-latTd 'til yu'd a-shook clean thro' At paw a-skutln' he tol' me when we got to th crlclc He'd cut sum fancy capers fer me If th Ice wuz thl:k; Paw sed t when he wuz a boy they wuzn't enny wun Cu'd skate as fast er cut wun ha'f th' dldos wot he dun. So when paw got his skates on good all reddy t begin. He stood up strate an' sez t me, "I guess I'll 1st start In By cuttln' a spred-eagle like I aster do," nen he 1st got up .iteam an' lit out like a Injun Jlmmlnee! An ncn he 1st fell down kerflop an' cracked th' Ice an' tore His pants an' skinned his nose an' 1st lade whare he tell an' swore. 'Nen paw he took his skates right off an' sez t me, "See here, Yung man, you cum right home lth me don't let me kech y neer Th Ice agin this winter, an now you mind wot I say; 1 won't let my boy waste his time In enny slch fool way": As we walk'd home I lafTd out loud, but I don't think paw heard. Coz he 1st llmp'd erlong ahed an nuwer sed a wurd. Newt Newklrk In Ohio State Journal. An Adventure. Three smart young men and three nice girls All lovers true as steel Decided. In a friendly way, To spend the day awheel. They started In the early morn. And nothing seemed amiss; And when they reached the leafy lanes They in like rode twos this! They wandered by the verdant dale, Beside the rippling rllU The sun shone brightly all the while; They heard the song-bird's trill. They sped through many a wcodland glade, The world was full of bKfO And when they rested In the shade Theysat lntwos llkethls. The sun went down and evening came, A lot too soon, they said; Too long they tarried on the way, The clouds grew black o'erhead; Down dashed the rain! They homeward flew, Till one unlucky miss Slipped sideways Crash! Great Scott! The lot Wereallmlxedupllkethls ! California Curio. CarneKie. A fight 'gainst plutocracy's powers? Well, Andrew will never be In It. He doesn't object to long hours, At SH a minute. Chicago Tribune. the conductor thrust a smiling face through the doorway. "Don't blame de young lady, gents," he said, cheerily. "She explained It all when she was gettln' off. She didn't mean noth ln'. You see, she's "been vaccinated and has a sore arm." New Orleans Times-Democrat "BLOW ON'T, AULD BONYX Laughable Experience of Scotch Sur ffeon In Hiring: Assistant, i Dr. McTavlsh, of Edinburgh, says the London Tit-Bits, was something of a ven triloquist, and It befell that he wanted a lad to assist In the surgery who must necessarily be of strong nerves. He re ceived several applications, and when tell ing a lad what the duties were, in order to test his nerves, he would say, while pointing to a grinning skeleton standing upright !n a corner: "Fart of ycur work would be to feed the skeleton there, and while you are here you may ss well have a try to do so." A ft w lads would consent to a trial, and received a basin of hot gruel and a spoon. While they were pouring a hot mass Into the skull the doctor would throw his voice so as to make It appear to proceed from the jaws of the bony customer, and gurgle our: "G:-r-r-gr-h-uh! That's hot!" This was too much, and without excep tion tho lads dropped the basin and bolted. The doctor began to despair of ever get ling a suitable helpmate until a small boy came and was given the basin and spoon. After the first spoonful the skeleton ap peared to say: "Or-i-r-uh-r-hr! That's hot!" Shoveling In the scalding gruel as fast as ever, the boy rapped the skull and im patiently reorted: "Well, jlst blow on't, ye auld bony!" The doctor sat down on his chair and fairly roared, but when the laugh was over he engaged the lad on the spot. BECAME MONOTONOUS. Inquiring; OfFsprlntr Provokes Fond Parent's Ire. His 5-year-old boy was perched on his knee, and the fond father gazed at him with eyes that beamed with paternal pride. "Papa" pointing out of the window "what are those men doing over there?" "Building a house, my son." "Why?" "Because they are paid to do it" "Who pays them for doing it?" "The man who Is putting the house up."' "What does he pay 'em for." "For building the house." "Why?" "Because well, because they would not build the house If he did not pay them." "What does the man want the house for?" The paternal smile became rigid. "To live In." "Hasn't he got a house to live In?" "Oh, yes." "What does he want another for?" "Oh. for other people to live in." "What other people?" "Oh, men and women and little hoy3 and girls." "Why do they want to live In the house?" "Well, they must live somewhere." "Who?" "The people." "What people?" "Any people." "Why?" At this Juncture the innocent, prattling child saw a firm hand descending, and hastily retreated In time to prevent a col lision. Tit-Bits. "Who Is Snm Phillips T An editor of an Oregon newspaper, who goes In for the high-flown style of writ ing, once began one of his extravagant leading articles In this fashion: "Tomor row Is the anniversary of the death of Louis Philippe." The editor's penmanship was not, by any means, the easiest to decipher, so, when the proof was handed to him. It read: "Tomorrow is the anniversary of the death of Sam Phillips." Extremely Indignant at what he deemed a wanton Insult, he wrathfully wrote on tho margin of the proof: "Who the dick ens Is this Sam Phillips?" Then, having reproved the printer in scathing fashion, he went home. At breakfast. In the morning, when he turned with pride to his article, which he considered better than usual, he sprang up In a towering rage, on finding It be gun thus: "Tomorrow is the anniversary of the death of Sam Phillips. Who the dickens Is this Sam Phillips?" Twisted Phonetics. One day, on the streets of Portland, was noticed an emigrant wagon. The driver was asked where he was from, and where ho was going. This was his answer: "Well, we wintered over on Pucket sown, an' we will go down through the Willa metta valley and have a look at the TJmp quack valley, an' If the land don't suit, we will jest drive back to Tack-amaw and winter." After studying a moment the writer figured it out that the man was from Pu get sound; would travel through the Wil lamette valley, and also view the Umpqua valley; If, then, the country did not please nlm, he would return to Tacoma ,for the winter. Not Up to Snuff. Ben Inprint Say, my wife, Mrs. Ben In print, and two children, Lucy and John, are away on 'a visit to her Uncle Eben ezer's, down at Cedar Valley. I Join them over Sunday. New Reporter (producing notebook) Give me the names of the children again, please. Ben Inprint Goodness! Y' ain't goln' t' put it In yer paper, are y? New Reporter I Intended to, but of course. If you'd rather, I'll not mention It Good day. Ben Inprint Why didn't I keep my blame mouth shet That feller must be new. Ohio State Journal. Flxlnjr a Flirt. Mrs. Plainface I have an old coat which, though somewhat worn, .a still quite good. Would you like to have It? Miss Fllrtle What? Do you mean to In sinuate that I would wear one of you cast-off garments? Mrs. Plainface I don't know but what you might You seem to be trying to gel my husband. New York Weekly. Correct. Teacher Willy, please give me a sen tence In which the verbs "to set" and "to sit" are used correctly. Willy (after a brief deliberation) The United States Is a country on which the sun never sets and on wheh no other country ever sits. Puck. His Bible Wife. Little Willie Say, pa, did you ever have another wife besides ma? Pa No, Willie. But why do you ask? Little Willie The .family record in the Bible says you married Anno Domini 1877. Chicago Record. H 5 Retribution. The Boer stood on the rocky veldt And calmly swept tne kopje. "I never," said the Briton, "feldt Such firing. Hey, there! Stopje!" "Oh. no." the wily Boer replied, "Tou have attacked my trek: And eought to steal my gold beside. What did you, then, expect?" Philadelphia North American. APPLE SAYINGS. King of Fralts Not Always In tha Hifirh Favor It Now Is. Apples were at one time underestimated, says a writer In Youth's Companion; they were scarcely considered a fruit raro enough for the consideration of the epi cure, unless. Indeed, they formed a part of some elaborate dessert, compounded and cooked 'by a skilled nousekeeper. Ap ple jellies, puddings, pies and cakes might do. but plain raw apples were fit only foe school children, vegetarians or the poor. All this Is now changed, and the apple has come to Its own again. But If Its flavor has been at various times slightly esteemed or discredited, at least its wholesomeness has been stead lly recognized. "Apple sayings" are fre quent, both In our country and In Eng land, all of which testify In favor of the fruit In the "west contree" there are four such: An apple a day Sends the doctor away, 13 the first and briefest. Then follow, in the order of their vigor, three more: Apple In the morning. Doctor's warning. Roast apple at night. Starved the doctor outright Eat an apple going to bed. Knock the doctor on the head. A little less aggressive Is one of the Mid lands: Three each day, eeven days a week Ruddy apple, ruddy cheek. But more Interesting than these Is. ant old orchard verse which used to be re cited on certain ancient farms on the plucking of the first ripe apples of the crop. Misfortune was supposed to follow Its omission, and Its utterance was quite a little ceremonj. the first apple over which It was spoken being presented to a young girl, who halved and bit It befora any further fruit was gathered, or at least tested. Thus It ran: The fruit of Eve receive and cleave. And taste the flesh therein; A wholesome food, for man 'tis good Thatonce for man was sin. And since 'tis sweet, why. pluck and eat, The Lord will have It ho; For that which Eve did grieve, believe Hath wrought Its all of woe. Eat the apple! AS SHE IS WROTE. Wnr News as Complied From Rec ords, nnd n In Duller. CORRECT VERSION. The British crossed the Tugeia In tho attempt to relieve Ladysmlth. Held a hill for a day and then retreated, on find ing the position untenable. Loss, nina killed, 40 wounded. Boer loss, seven killed, GO wounded. BULLER'S VERSION. I have the honor to report that I crossed the Tugeia again this morning and made a feint, in order to give the enemy the Idea that we actually meant to attack him. He was completely taken In, and replied to our fire vigorously all day, when wa retired to the south bank of the river. The movement was a complete success. We caught two men bathing In the river. They claimed to be Boers, but. on hearing indisputable testimony from their cap tors to the effect that they were taking a bath. I refused to believe them and let them go. Our casualties were slight The enemy must have suffered heavily. Chi cago Tribune. Jnlie's Chnnse of Henrt. Jabc Mathis, of the Thirteenth Georgia, was a good soldier, but one day, say3 the Brooklyn Eagle, when the Confeder ates were retreating from the field of Gettysburg, Jabe threw his musket on the ground, seated himself by the roadside and exclaimed, with much vehemence: "I'll be dashed If I walk another step I I'm broke down. I can't do It." And Jabe was the picture of despair. "Get up, man!" exclaimed his captain. "Don't you see the enemy are following" us? They'll get you. sure." "Can't help It," said Jabe. "I'm done' for. I'll not walk another step." "The Confederates passed along over the creet of the hill and lost sight of poor, de jected Jabe. In a moment there was a fresh rattle of musketry and a renewed crash of shells. Suddenly. Jabe appeared en the top of the hill, moving like a hurricane and followed by a cloud of dust As he dashed past his captain, the officer yelled: "Hello, Jabe! Thought you wasn't going: to walk any more?" "Thunder!" replied Jabe. as he hit the dust with renewed vigor, "you don't call this walking, do you?" The Reason. "Why do you aw sigh. Miss Dolly?" asked the callow bard, after reciting one of his soulful effusions; "Becausa it Is not good form to snort" replied the wearied maiden. Harper's Weekly. Told Him Why. Some one once sent to Eugene Field a poem entitled "Why Do I Live?" Mr. Field sent back the reply, "Be cause you send your verses by mall." Youth's Companion. Silent Heroes. "To our silent heroes," little Willie read from the memorial bronze. "Popper, what are silent heroes?" "Married men," said popper. Indianapo lis Journal.