(4
1
f THE OTHER MAN.
Z
E stood ofi the brink of the preci
pice and looked over. Three hun-
dred feet below bim the sea broke
on the somber rocks.
The man's muscles tensloned and he
drew a deep breath. What an easy
way to end it all! Just one little step
those rocks below were no bunglers;
they would make no mistake over their
work, and the sea would tell no tales
and then then he would be away from
it all, and would never have to bear the
agony of hearing that she was married
to Everett.
Married to Everett married to Ever
ett! The words clanged In his ears.
He groaned aloud and bent hastily
over the edge.
A mist came before his eyes and his
breath rose in a choking heave to bis
throat; the ground rocked sickeningly
beneath him, and for one dizzy second
be thought he was falling falling
down that interminable space.
Then the mist passed, the ground
topped rocking and he gasped with
relief to find himself still standing safe
and sound on firm earth.
He turned away with a scornful
laugh at his own weakness.
Home again, he flung himself into an
easy-chair and lit his pipe, resolved to
give way no longer to morbid imag
inings. He picked np a magazine, but bis
thoughts flew off at a tangent to the
dance which was to take place that
very evening, to. which he bad been
invited.
He had vowed not to see her again
till he could settle once for all the dem
on of unrest within him, and a crowded
ballroom was the last place for impas
sioned avowals.
He thought how cool and beautiful
she would look in her white muslin,
with her fluffy golden hair framing her
sweet little flower-like face. Perhaps
he would go, after all. Then a second
figure rose up to spoil the picture
handsome;, happy-go-lucky Everett,
with a merry word for everyone,
dancing untiring attendance on the fas
cinating hostess and never leaving her
side for a moment.
How dared be take possession of her
In that way! And bow could she put
up with it, unless
His pipe mankind's universal baby
bottle for once failed utterly In its
mission of soothing. He tossed it angrily-
across the table and buried his
face in his hands, lost in a whirl of mis
erable conjectures.
His thoughts flew back to that dance j
one week ago one week so crowded '
with hopes and fears that it seemed a
lifetime.
He remembered those two dances,
the music, the scent of flowers in the
conservatory, and, more distinctly than
all, the laughing face of Dolly.
Then those few overheard words
rushed through his brain. He clinched
bis fists and his face flushed at the rec
ollection. He had drifted from the ball
room to the conservatory. Would she
consent? That was the question that
throbbed In his brain. Should he say
the words that would decide his future
life and hers? He had puffed at a ci
garette, and stared 'at the thin wisps
of blue smoke. Would his hopes fade
Into nothingness as that fragrant
smoke faded and vanished into air?
And then he heard people talking. He
recognized the voice of Everett, and
then Dolly's. They were seated on the
opposite side of the conservatory, and
had not seen bim as he sat almost con
cealed behind a tangle of palm leaves.
"Dolly," Everett was saying, "you
must say 'Yes.' My whole life depends
upon it. . We have been chums so long.
Say you will and make me the happiest
man in England not to speak of Scot
land, Ireland and Wales. Say 'Yes!' 1
know what you want to say that we
ought to be getting back again. And
there are all those loathsome people
who want dances. Confound 'em. You
will? I knew you would "
Fraser had sat there, almost unable
to move. He did not know how long.
The music from the ballroom floated
out into the conservatory, mingling
with the laughter and chatter of the
guests. All hope, all Interest in life
was gone snatched from him by those
few overheard words. People were
asking for bim. What did it matter;
nothing mattered now. A voice aroused
him. He looked up, and saw Everett
before himEvrett, who was bis
friend; who was now his rival his
eenmy!
"Hallo, Fraser, old man, you seem to
be ten fathoms deep in the blue dumps!
What's the matter now? Come and
have a smoke with me. I've been look
ing for you half the evening."
And that all happened a week ago! A
weekthe most miserable in his life.
And now he was trying to forget her.
What a fool be was!
II.
The thought of that steep drop down
to the sea kept recurring to bis mind
again and again with a fatal fascina
tion put it away from his as be would.
Through all bis broodings Its somber
Invitation stood out clear and distinct.
He could see even now the Jagged
rocks lurking below, dripping with
pray, looking for their prey.
At last be got up. It was no good
staying in. Inaction was torture to
him in his present frame of mind. He
would try and walk it off.
He started off rapidly, without any
definite aim or intention but uncon
sciously his steps turned toward the
coast, and presently be found himself
once more ascending the steep little
path Be bad traversed that morning.
As he neared the summit be per
ceived that there was a man's figure
before him, stooping perilously over the
dangerous edge, evidently gathering
some plant from the cliff below.
It was a foolhardy thing to do, and
evidently bespoke a strong brain.
A little nearer, and he stopped short
abruptly. The stooping figure was
Everett.
All his lore and hate surged up with
in him. Everett, the man who had
stolen his love from bim the man who
bad made bis life a blank and barren
waste. A thousand devils seemed let
loose within him. How very near that
stooping figure was to death so near
that one touch Just one little motion
of the foot and he would lose his bal
ance and go speeding, speeding down
those smiling cliffs and be burled to
pieces on those cruel rocks beneath!
His breath came quickly.
Suppose it had happened accidental
ly? Even as he thought he knew he
was a coward. Even then be was
thinking of his own skin. Suppose a
sudden noise made the man start? Al
most unconsciously he opened his lips,
and a harsh "Hallo!" broke from him.
Everett's nerves , were steel. He
turned his sunny face and. smiled over
bis shoulder.
"Hallo, old man!" he responded amia
bly. Fraser came and stood dumbly beside
him, holding his hands tightly together
behind him to hide their shaking. He
had forgotten Everett was a sailor.
He watched him furtively leaning
down further and further, till it seemed
Impossible he could retain his balance;
and the waves below reached up hun
gry white arms to catch him, and fell
back again with a murmuring thunder
of anger at their failure.
A little further. Fraser caught his
breath.
"You'll be over in a minute!" he said
gruffly.
Everett laughed easily.
"Not I!" he said confidently. "But, 1
say, old chap, you might just hang on
to my legs for a minute, will you? 1
want to reach that great bit just there,
and. it's just beyond me."
The waving pink bloom nodded Im
pudently up at them just out of reach.
Fraser stood motionless, moistening; his
dry lips. -
Everett looked around.
"D'you mind, old man?" he said.
And mechanically the other stretched
out his hand and obeyed.
Now now! one movement of his fin
gersjust the opening of his hand
He fought the thought back, gasping
for breath.
Everett leaned still farther. He half
glanced back.
"They're for Dolly, you know," he
said, "to wear this evening."
The fingers opened as if by some sud
denly pressed spring. There was a sud
den cry. and then then something
went rolling,- rolling, striking and
bounding sickeningly down that steep
side.
For an instant the white face was up
turned. "All right, old chap I know acci
dent!" floated up brokenly, and then
there was a last hideous thud, and the
waves clutched greedily at their unrec-'
ognizable prey and drew it under. And
the swooping seagulls shrieked wildly
and circled upward.
Fraser stood as If turned to stone,
gazing with distended eyeballs at the
gurgling eddies where that that thing
had disappeared.
Murderer! Murderer! Murderer:
The waves lashed it at him, the sea
gulls shrieked It, the whole living and
inanimate world flung the awful word
at him.
He stood paralyzed. Had he done it
he? . What had he done? He held his
hands vaguely and piteously out before
him, asking them mutely. Murderer!
Murderer! Murderer! Yes, it was true
true! His hands told him his hands
that he had opened. God! They were
blood-red stained with blood! The
grass was red the sky the very sea
was blood!
He flung up bis bands with an awful
cry and sprang blindly over that fatal
edge.
"I say, old fellow, do wake up and
stop having the horrors! You don't
know how beastly awful you look!"
Fraser opened bis eyes slowly and
stared in blank terror at the handsome
tanned face looking down at him. He
wondered vaguely whether he was
dreaming now or had just awoke from
a red nightmare. The voice went on:
"I only looked In to say ta-ta. I've
had a telegram calling me back to Ire
land Immediately. Old Chris Murdocb
has relented and consented to our be
ing publicly' engaged. And all through
Dolly, too bless her little heart! She's
Meg's dearest friend, you know, and
she's been moving heaven and earth
to soften the old chap's heart." He
waived an airy good-by. "Ta-ta!" be
said merrily.
Fraser gazed speechlessly at him, the
tears still standing thick on his White
face.
Everett turned back, half-laughing.
"1 wish 3-ou wouldn't look at me as
though I were .a ghost!", be protested
"So long!"
Archbishop's Apt Retort.
The archbishop of Dublin recently
performed a marriage in the family of
a wealthy Irish distiller. After the
breakfast the distiller - thanked the
archbishop effusively for his share of
the-proceedings and said to bim as he
took his leave, "The Lord be with
you." "And with thy spirit," la report
ed to hare been the rejoinder.
flUMOK OF THE WEEK
STORIES TOLD BY FUNNY MEN
OF THE PRESS.
Odd, Curious and Laughable phases
of Human Nature Graphically Por
trayed by Eminent Word Artist of
Our Own Day -A Budget of Fun.
Mr. Cripps Can you induce the cook
to have one of her friends come and
take dinner with her to-night?
Mrs. Cripps The Idea! What for?
Mr. Cripp3 I expect to bring Jones
and Smith home with me, and I'd like
to have a nice dinner for tbem. Phila
delphia Record.
Il Theatric Parlance.
AmateurWhat does it mean In
theatric circles when they say . the
"ghost walks?"
Veteran Actor It means that the rest
of us don't have to. Detroit ' Free
Press.
Inherent Talent.
mmumtm
Deacon Shanghai Dat boy certainly
Is full ob music, Mrs. Jackson.
Mrs. Jackson Yes, Deacon; hit
comes nachel toe dat chile: his nun war
run ovah by one o' dem street plan
ners.
Taking the Stinn tit of It.
"Have I got a bright future?" anx
iously inquired the sweet young gradu
ate, who was chock-full of ambition.
"Well, it isn't as bright as it might
be," answered the antique clairvoyant,
who was taking a long look into it;
"but," she added with a girlish titter,
"perhaps the gas is turned down."
Puck.
Proved Hia Point.
"Opportunity comes once to every
man."
"That's right; and any man is bound
to become famous if he only lives long
enough."
"Oh; I don't quite believe that."
"You don't? Suppose a man lives to
be 150 years old; wouldn't that make
him famous?" Philadelphia" Record.
Trying to Follow the Injunction.
"And now," continued his angry
spouse, thoroughly aroused. "I am go
ing to give you another piece of my
mind what are you doing?"
"I am turning the other ear," patient
ly . responded Mr. Meeker. Chicago
Tribune.
The Mystery of Motive.
"Why," asked the young wife, naive
ly, ''do you always whistle when you
get my millinery bills?"
"To raise the wind!" replied the man.
Detroit Journal.
;. " In 'iaputabl-.
M&nirua Oh, Ethel, you never saw
me behave like that.
Ethel (aged 4) Well, I haven't know
ed you so very long. Tit-Bits.
Compulsory Proportion.
"You're not half so stout as you were
Billy."
"No; we've moved into a flat, and I
Just had to get thin." Indianapolis
Journal.
She Was Willing to Help.
Beggar Plase, yer honor, do heln a
poor old body.
Irritable Old Chap Don't bother me,
woman. Can't you see -that I pnnlrin't
possibly get a hand into my pockets?
Beggar Ah, but perhaps I could, yer
honor.
His'Graspina: Disposition.
"They say," remarked the mother
thoughtfully,; referring to the young
man who had called the previous even
ing, "that he is of a grasping disposi
tion." . "
"Well,-1 should say he wast' ex
claimed the small boy.
"Willie!" cautioned his sister, but it
was too late.
. "You just ought to have seen the way
he grasped Lou when she said she'd
marry him," persisted the youngster.
Chicago Evening Post -
Crowded Out.
"Have you called on Penelope since
she got back?"
"Yes, but I'll have to go again "
"Why?" - .
"She got started first in telling her
summer experiences and I didn't get a
word in edgewise about what I'd been
doing all summer." Chicago Record.
Discouraarlne'.
"You are the first girl I ever loved,"
aid Mr. Simper to Miss Klttlsh.
"In that case you may cease loving
me. I do not care to be practiced on."
Correct.
"Johnny," queried the teacher of the
new pupil, "do you know your alpha
bet?" "Yes'm," answered Johnny.
"Well, then," continued the teacher,
"what letter comes after A?" '
"AH the rest of them.1" was the" tri
umphant reply.
For Spoons.
"Here's a girl," remarked the Query
Editor, "who writes to know 'what 1
the popular spoonholder of this sea
son.' "
"Evidently," replied the Snake Edi
tor, "she's never had any beaux."
"Why?"
"Because If she had she'd know that
the most popular one Is the parlor
sofa." Philadelphia Press.
Heavy Incidentals.
She Is the writing of poetry very lu
crative? He Well, it would be If one didn't
have to lay out 50 cents or so every
week on paper and stamps! Puck.
B.eunry.
Husband (angrily) Don't forget,
madame, that you are my wife.
Wife Oh, never fear. There are
some things one can't forget. Detroit
Free Press.
An?r'ed Her Pleasure.
He I am afraid you don't like my
dancing.
She On the contrary, I think it is
very amusing.
Nominated.
"What does Mildred mean when she
says that she Is writing her letter of
acceptance to Theodore," Denver
News.
Hiehly Knj yable.
Buggins I hear Smitkins is learning
golf. Does he enjoy it?
- Muggins Says it's great. He has al
ready put three caddies In the hospi
tal. Philadelphia Record.
Terrible.
Scene: A railway car. First Artist
Children don't seem to me to sell
now as they used.
Second Artist (in a hoarse whisper)
Well, I was at Stodge's yesterday; he
had just knocked off three little girls'
beads, horrid raw things, when a deal
er came in, sir; he bought 'em directly,
took 'em away, wet as they were, on a
stretcher, and wanted Stodge to let him
have some more next week.
Old Lady (putting her head out of
window and shrieking) Conductor,
stop the train and let me out, or I'll be
murdered!
Intervals in Kxcitetnent.
"Ma, when I get big I'm goln' 'way
off to be a pirate."
"Are you, Bobby?"
"Yes, but don't you be scared; I'll
come home at night to sleep." Chicago
Record.
Plain Evi lence of Art.
I ,m
She I came to study art.
Artist I knew you could paint the
moment I looked into your face.
They All Came Back.
"Half a dozen of us fellows," said the
struggling young author, "held a com
petition in short story writing. My
story won the prize."
"Conceded to be the best, eh?"
. "Well, we sent them all to the samt
magazine, and the editor kept mint
longer than any of the others." Phila
delphia Press.
Most Unfashion-tble.
"My gracious!" suddenly exclaimed
little Mabel Blugore, who had been
day-dreaming, "I suppose there's no
help for It."
"What are you thinking of, dear?"
asked her mamma.
"Why, I was just thinking when we
die we'll have to wear ready-made
heavenly robes for a few days till we
can be fitted." Philadelphia Press.
The Only I'owibility.
He Nothing could ever come between
us, could It, dear?
She I can't think of a single thing,
unless I should happen to become en
gaged to some other man. Harper's
Bazar.
Used to It.
Mr. Lurker Excuse me, Miss Snap
per, but I have long sought this oppor
tunity Miss Snapper Never mind the pre
amble, Mr. Lurker. Run along In and
ask pa. He's been expecting this would
come for the last two years. Tit-Bits.
A Courteous Offer.
"Couldn't I be squeezed In there some
how?" asked the pretty girl, as she
vainly sought entrance to the crowded
car.
"If you can get in, I have one arm
free," exclaimed a young man in the
center of the carBaltimore American.
No Birds.
"I am told that Miss Frocks is a vege
tarian," said Mrs. Fosdick.
"She is," replied Mrs. Keedick, "even
In her millinery."
Pepper tn Olden Times.
Dr. Adolpb Miller, of Philadelphia,
President of the Pennsylvania My
cological Club, In a dissertation on the
pepper plant, says that during the
Middle Ages in Europe pepper was the
most esteemed and most important of
all the spices. Genoa, Venice and oth
er commercial cities of central Europe
were indebted to their traffic In pepper
for a large part of their wealth. Its
Importance as a means of promoting
commercial activity and civilization
during the Middle Ages can hardly be
overrated. Tribute was levied in
pepper, and donations were made in
this spice, which was frequently also
used as a medium of exchange In place
of money. When the imperial city of
Rome was besieged by , Alaric, the
King of the Goths, in 408 A. D., the
ransom demanded Included 5,000
pounds of gold, 30,000 pounds of silver
and 3,000 pounds of pepper, illustrating
the Importance of this spice at that
time. . V
Fifty miles from the town where a
man dies, the papers. If they mention
his death at all, tell the truth about
him. . . .. .
HANDLESS BUT HANDY
ARMLESS PEOPLE HAVE ACCOM
PLISHED DIFFICULT FEATS.
Individuals Minus Upper Limbs Have
Become Famous Artists, Dextrous
Penmen, Expert Musicians and Ar
tisans. That success in art is not the monop
oly of such as are dowered with the
normal number of limbs Is conclusive
ly proved by the skill of Mile. Rapln, a
Swiss artist, who, though without
arms, has made a name for herself
with her portraits and bas-reliefs, and
of the Belgian painter, recently deceas
ed, whom many of us have doubtless
seen at -work in the Antwerp picture
gallery copying the wo-ts of the old
masters there on view.
Other armless artists, too, have ac
quired fame, among whom may be
mentioned the celebrated Miss Biffen,
who earned a living as a miniature
painter. Originally on exhibition at
Bartholomew fair, she was seen by the
Earl of Morton, who took her under his
patronage and paid for her artistic ed
ucation. She was a favorite of George
IV. and William IV., the latter of
whom allowed her a small pension.
Turning to earlier armless celebrities,
mention must be made of John Vale
rius, born in Germany In 1007, who
was capable of performing many sur
prising feats. He could shave himself,
play on the drum, fence with much
skill, and, in short, use his toes with
as much adroitness as most men can
their hands. He possessed, however,
a modern rival in the person of Herr
Unthan, whom many will remember as
exhibiting himself a few years ago in
London, where he surprised large audi
ences with his marvelous feats.
Matthew Buckinger, who was born
at Nuremberg seven years later than
Valerius, was but a mere trunk, pos
sessing neither arms nor legs. Despite
his natural disadvantages, however, he
Is said to have been ah excellent per
former on the flute, bagpipe and trum
pet, while his sketches landscape, fig
ures and coats of arms which were
executed with a pen, were equal to the
most finished engravings. His cali
graphy, of which examples are still ex
tant, would have done credit to the
most expert writing master, and, in
deed, he was able to make no incon
siderable Income by the sale of these
specimens of his skill.
He figured likewise In the not very
Invidious role of wife beater, for on
one occasion when one of his wives
he was married four times insulted
him, he sprang upon her, got her down,
and buffeted her so severely with bis
stumps that she was glad to escape
further chastisement by promising
amendment in the future a promise
that she faithfully kept.
Equally marvelous were the feats of
William Kingston, who at the com
mencement of the present century re
sided at Ditcheat, near Bristol, where
he cultivated a small farm. He could,
without other aid than that of his toes,
saddle and bridle his horse, milk his
own cows, cut his own hay, bind it up
In bundles, and carry it about the field
for bis cattle. He was an excellent
carpenter, too, and had acquired no
little renown as a hammer thrower,
being able with his feet to cast a heavy
sledge hammer as far as most men
could with their hands.
Very expert, too, is Caleb Orton, an
American, though in his case his skill
has brought him within the clutches
of the law, for though without hands
he contrived to forge a postal money
order. For that nefarious purpose he
employed his mouth, and although the
authorities were at first incredulous
and" doubted the truth of his confes
sion, he soon put the matter beyond
doubt by ocular demonstration.
Gripping the pen between his teeth,
he, by means of a series of rapid move
ments of his head, executed one of
those elaborate designs of birds, beasts
and scroll work In which writing ex
perts delight, and proved to the satis
faction of everybody present his un
doubted culpability.
AT THE END OF 2000 A D.
What One Writer Predicts VIII Hap
pen a Centnry Hence.
The twentieth century Is to be the
century of change; science, which is
going at the trot, will then go at the
gallop, says a writer in London Truth.
We think we know much; those who
will live 100 years hence will wonder
we knew so little.
The folowing is prematurely quoted
from the Daily Cinematograph of Dec.
31, 2000:
"On the eve of the twenty-first cen
tury it will be in the minds of many to
contrast the present with the past. Ail
are aware that gigantic strides have
been made recently in the direction of
progress, but few realize that only a
hundred years ago men traveled , in
trains over the land and in ships over
the water; that they communicated
with each other by telegraph; that their
streets and houses were lit with gas or
with an early adaptation of electricity;
that coal was used In almost every
household; that hundred of . millions
were spent in taking Instead of In sav
ing life; that the soldier was more
honored than the surgeon; that well
dressed women wore furs in the day
while the sun was shining and half
stripped themselves in the evening and
that it was not generally acknowledged
that one of the most Important of du
ties is to enjoy the legitimate pleasures
of this exquisitely designed world!
"Only a century ago selfishness and
superstition still bound our predeces
sors, but science has removed these
bonds from us. As we walk in the
silent streets and look upon the smoke
less sky, where thousands of aerial
carts, cabs and carriages hurry hither
and thithet, we wonder bow man can
have lived without flying. - Even yet we
are surroundedby a decaying past
Underground London Is said to be
honeycombed witb tunnels in which
trains ran up to fifty years ago! In
many parts of the country telegraph
and telephone poles still stand with
dangling wires, though "wireless tele
phony has long since superseded those
older methods of - communication.
Builders occasionally come upon leaden
piping through which gas was conduct
ed when gai was an illumlnant At
Plymouth the government retains from
a sentimental motive a fleet of Iron
clads, though electricity long ago made
warfareon the water Impossible.
"Perhaps the most striking feature
of modern civilization la that there are
no ugly women. The improved condi
tions of life, the place which legitimate
enjoyment has in the modern scheme of
existence, the extirpation of many
forms of disease, and the rational atti
tude of mind of the average woman
have worked wonders. No modern
playwrlter would think of elaborating
a plot In which married life was pre
sented as having a dark side, for the
woman of to-day is a Joy in ber own
bouse, and not only in the houses of
others, as there Is reason to believe
was the case a hundred years ago. Ev
erywhere we see peace, prosperity,
progress, and It is therefore with feel
ings of the utmost gratitude that we
watch the departing hours of the twen
tieth century."
Dr. Stubbs, the Bishop of Oxford, was
once importuned by a woman who,
knowing his experience of the Holy
Land, kept on asking him what places
she ought to visit, as she was starting
on a trip to Palestine. After answer
ing topographical questions without
number, he was again asked: "But.
really, what place would you advise me
to go to?" "To Jericho, madam," said
the bishop, sweetly.
A London newsboy, who is accus
tomed to shout- "Extras" every even
ing, recently had a very bad cold and
became hoarse. Feeling himself atxa
disadvantage, he carried a large card in
front of him, on which he had roughly
written: "Hush! Noise Is a nuisance!
1 can't shout my extras, but I have
them all the same!" It idid not take
the boy long to sell out his stock of pa
pers to the grateful passers-by.
In her book on "Some Players," Amy
Leslie says that Edwin Booth's detesta
tion of "Richard III." was frank and
Incurable. One night, when in the
most magnificent instant of Richard, a
super fell in a writhing, squirming at
tack, which set the country audience
laughing, Booth said, quietly, after the
fall of the curtain, amid shouts of mis
guided laughs, "What was the matter,
captain?" The ' trembling captain
owned reluctantly that one of his twenty-five-cent
men had been seized in a
fit. "Please pay thirty cents next time,
and employ one whose fits may not in
terfere with Richard. Richard Is un
endurable enough without the addition
of rented fits."
The desire of the inhabitants of Sing
Sing to change the name of the town
recalls a somewhat similar desire on
the part of the inhabitants of the town
of Rugeley, England, to a correspon
dent of the New York Times. A man
named Palmer had made Rugeley no
torious by an atrocious murder, and a
deputation of the inhabitants waited on
the hime secretary -with a petition for
leave to change the name. The min
ister hesitated, and asked what name
they proposed to substitute. They re
plied that they had not decided. "What
do you say," said he, "to taking my
name?" They expressed their unquali
fied delight, and obtained the home sec
retary's consent to this method of ob
literating the memory of the obnoxious
Palmer. The home secretary in ques
tion was Lord Palmerston. The town is
still known as Rugeley.
When George Sand, the famous
French novelist, was living at Nahant,
near the close of her life, she was fairly
caught on her own grounds by a de
termined British journalist, of her own
sex, who opened a formidable note
book and demanded: "At what hour
do you work, madame?" "I never
work," replied George Sand, gayly.
"Ho! But your books? When do you
make them?" "They make themselves,
morning, evening, and night." This
was baffling, but the British lady, al
though Tleflcient in grace, did not lack
grit, and said: "What is your own fa
vorite, may I ask, among your novels?"
" 'Olympia,' " returned George Sand,
with a beaming smile. " 'Olympia? I
do not know that one." Perhaps I
have not yet written it!" and the vic
timized author beat a hasty retreat,
much amused as she looked back and
saw that her nonsense was being duly
jotted down in the formidable note
book. Dr. Johnson's Regard, for Truth
It was said of Dr. Johnson that he
always talked as though he were tak
ing an bath. He detested the habit of
lying or prevaricating in the slightest
degree, and would not allow bis ser
vants to say he was not at home if he
was. "A servant's strict regard for
the truth," said he, "must be weakened
by such a practice. If I accustomed
my servant to tell a lie for me have
I not reason to apprehend that he will
tell them for himself?" A strict adher- j
ence to the truth the doctor considered j
as a sacred obligation, and in relating j
the smallest anecdote be would not al- j
low himself the minutest addition to
embellish his story.
. Mistaken Identity.
Attorney You say you had called to
see Miss Billings and was at the bouse ;
at the time the burglary, was commit-i
ted?
Witness Yes, sir. ' f
"Then how did It happen that when '
the prisoner dashed into the room and
assaulted you you leaped through the
window and went home, making no .
attempt to defend the lady or give the
alarm?" .
"I thought it was her father." Hart-1
ford Times. ;
Bootblacks in Berlin.
Bootblacks are seldom seen on the
streets of Berlin, owing to the fact
that it is one of the duties of German
servant girls to sblne shoes In the
household, and of porters to attend to
it in hotels. There are bootblacks at
tbe principal railway depots, but they
find more patrons among women than
among men.
What a failure most of u make of
life. : - . ,
DEVIL DANCERS OF CEYLON.
Earn a Good Living; by Exorcising Da
mods from the r'ialc
-3Bij real Singhalese devil dancers in
Ceylon axe most ferocious and savage
fellows. Their dances are revolting
and horrible. BuP-tbeir -profession is
popular and affords a royal living for
the men who go into it.
There Is a superstition among the
Singhalese that when a man falls aick
he is supposed to be afflicted with
a deylL In order to rid him of the
disease the devil dancers are called in
to propitiate the demon.
Two or more of them go by night to
the sick man's house. In front of which
a small, square lnclosure, about six
feet high, has been made of grasses
and palm leaves. This answers the
purpose of the green room at a thea
ter. The men appear at first without
masks and with long yellow grass
streamers hanging from their heads
and waists. The only light cast on
the scene Is by torches made of sticks,
around which pieces of cloth are wrap
ped, dipped In oil. To the music of
a tom-tom, kept up on one note, the
dancers sing a peculiar, wild, funeral
dirge, in which the spectators often
Join.
The dancers begin by slowly moving
about, stretching the right foot and
bringing the left up to it, and appear
as if they were searching for some
thing, during which the singing sounds
like crying. They are then asking the
devil to appear. There are twenty-four
; different sorts of devils, and, after the
j first part, the dancers are constantly
j changing their clothes to represent the
entire species; some wear masks, some
jdon jaws and terrible teeth reaching
! to the ears; the jaws open and close
in a very realistic manner.
A dance lasts over two nights, as the
wholetwenty-four devils have all to be
personated before the particular de
mon who is afflicting the sick man is
pitched on. When he gives signs of
bis presence the dancers go into a sort
at frenzy,-which increases as he takes
possession of them; the tom-tom beats
faster and faster, the chanting grows
into yells, the men whirl and stamp,
the bells fastenedby bracelets on to
their ankles jingle and clash.
At this stage the dancers appear to
be looking for some object to give the
devil in sacrifice, and into which be
may pass. A chicken is usually offered
by the friend of the sick man, and this
unfortunate bird is seized upon, twist- -ed
and tormented and bitten between
the false teeth, until the dancers, worn
out, move slower and slower, and the
chicken sinks into a sort of trance,
Which Is a sign that the devil has ac
cepted the sacrifice, and Is willing to
pass from the man into the bird. Now
and then the bird is revived by some
charmed water being thrown on its
head, and then the torture of it begins
again. After this the men don sheep
skin petticoats and capes, and in the
torchlight look more and more diabol
ical and frenzied in-their thanks to
the devil for consenting to leave the
lick man. "
When the bird dies it is a sign that
the devil has left the man, and he will
be cured. The bird is then throwtf into
the river, to be carried to the sea. It is
never killed, and never eaten after dy
ing. About an hour of this sort of
thing Is quite enough; it Is really hor
rible and revolting, and one is thank
ful when the men leave off to go to
drink the toddy prepared for them,
and make a night of it. New York
Journal.
"April's Sowing" Is Miss Gertrude
Hall's first long story. The title Is
taken from Browning's "Pippa
Passes."
Two weeks after Its publication, 40.
000 copies of "Alice in Old Vincennes"
were sold. It is a story of American
life by Maurice Thompson.
Wm. Dean Howells, the foremost fig
ure In American letters to-day, is to
be one of the literary advisers to the
reorganized bouse of Harper & Bros.
Annie Russell Marble has written a
book with a suggestive title. '"Books
That Nourish Us," published by T. J.
Crowell & Co. It is certain that year
ly come from the press books that give
us neither temporary nor lasting nour
ishment, and the necessity arises for
a wise choice.
Here Is a story told In "Notes and
Queries": A lady asked the novelist
what Jjer duty was in certain difficult
circumstances, and; received a clear re
ply. "But," she objected, "if I did that
I should die." "Surely that has noth
ing to do with you doing your duty,"
answered George Eliot.
The' Biography of a Baby" is the
title of an unusual volume by Miss
Millicent W. Sbinn. Miss Shinn is a
Callfornian and still lives there. She
has always been interested in babies.
and has made a careful study of them
both as teacher and friend. Published
by the Century Company.
Apropos of prefaces something that
few care to praise Mr. Kipling gives '
the following good advice, given when
he was asked to write a preface:
"Some rather interesting experiences
have taught me that the best way of
making a man bate me for life is to
meddle in any way with his work.
If the book is good, it will go,
and If not nothing will make it stir.
All the men who want to stick
a knife into me would stick it into
you as soon as they saw my name pre
facing your book. Bitter experience has
taught that that kind of thing doesn't
pay. If a book stands by Itself, it
will stand by Itself; but if you use an
other chap's name to help it to a start,
yon will get all tbe wbackg that the
other chap would have got if he bad
written the book, in addition to a few
whacks on your own merits."
It is folly to attempt to please every
body. It matters not in which direc
tion a man faces he must of necessity
turn his back on half the world.
Women either love or hate; there Is.
bo happy medium In their affections.