THE ROSE AND THE POPPY.
'Stand apart," said the Rose, "and taint not
The sweetness I throw on the air;
What art thou to man, that thou claimest
His garden with me to share!
'I soothe him with beauty and odors,
I recall the loved 'one's face;
I am Love's own chosen emblem,
The painter's symbol of grace.
"But thou in thyickly whiteness,
Or hue of blood fresh spent
What hast thoto offer the plaster,
That he should forgive thy scentP'
"I bring," said the Poppy, yawning,
"The gift man longs to possess,
That he racks the world in seeking
I bring him forgetfulness."
The Spectator.
A Commercial Episode.
A sound of revelry, but not by nignt.
Te clock has just 6truck 12, and the
sun is shining vertically upon the pre
tentious roof that houses Mr. Humphrey
Davison and famL'j . Beneath that roof
are now complete the extensive prepara
tions for the marriage ceremony that is to
make the only daughter of the house
$Lrs. Thomas "Winfield. The parlor is
ill of guests ; the perfume of an elabor
ate floral decoration pervades everything ;
and from certain quarters of the estab
lishment proceed the savory odors of a
spread feast; for the wedding is to be an
event.
Up-stairs, in the downy environment
of her own apartment, stands the pivot
of the occasion in bridal array. The
toilet is a marvel in its way ; a frail em
bodiment of monumental expense and
labor, as such things are apt to be, but
petite 3Iiss Alice is so beautiful in it that
bnly a churl could bewail either expense
or labor in the presence of such a result.
She is surrounded by a bevy of adrtiring
friends of the same sex, who chatter in
cessant lyf and manifest their anxious in
terest by sundry little touches here and
there upon veil or drapery, for the groom
has not yet arrived.
Presently it is a quarter past the hour
and he has not come yet, but no account
is taken of this circumstance, for who
ever heard of a wedding being celebrated
with anything like precision in regard to
time?
"Uncle Peyton pauses at the door to
remark in jocular vein that this "ssems
to be one of the occasions when we
linger shivering on the brink and fear
to launch away,' and to deliver himself
of numerous malign prophecies that are
flatly contradicted by the look of affec
tionate interest and unqualified admira
tion in his eyes.
Another quarter slips away. It is now
half-past twelve and still the delinquent
does not appear. Up the broad stairway
comes the murmur of impatient expec
tancy, and the face under the filmy white
veil wears a shade of vexation. When it
is nearly 1 o'clock Mr. Davison comes
to the door and softly calls his wife. In
the hall outside they hold a consultation,
and Alice, with . alert eyes upon their
faces, divines that something is wrong.
In a moment she has separated the crowd
about her like an arrow, and is before
them demanding the latest intelligence,
whatever it mav be. "It is postponed.
my dear," says her mother, choking. I
'That's it, my dear postponed,"
echoes her father, as he stands absently
twirling a crumpled note around his
finger.
Alice sees the note, and before he can
prevent her has taken it. She opens it
with breathless eagerness. It is soon
read, and runs thus :
I can't do it, uncle not for twice your for
tune. I have seen her, and I wonder that you
could ever ask it of me. Do as you please
with the money. I'm off. Your affectionate
nephew, T. W.
It is malicious, inhuman, crushing.
Why did he wait until this moment? She
turns back to the room with a white face,
throws herself upon the lounge in reck
less disregard of flowers and perishable
confections, and lies there with her face
buried in the pillow in an agony of hu
miliation. By-and-bye the situation is communi
cative to the assembled friends, who take
their leave, marveling greatly, and go
home to speculate for days with greater
or less accuracy upon all that has not
been given them to know.
Where a few hours ago there was
laughter, congratulation and anticipa
tion, all is now sorrow, indignation and
resentment. There is mockery in the
flowers scattered everywhere, and bitter,
intolerable remembrance in the odor of
baked meats.
The afternoon passes, and still Alice
lies with her face among the pillows,
thinking how it must all come out finally;
how everybody will know about that
brutal note, and how they will pity her.
She wishes 6he might die now, so that
the time would never come for her to
lift up her head and face the world,
with its knowledge of this dreadful af
fair, and its soul-sickening commisera-
tion. One thought is always uppermost:
to fly from the scene of her humiliation
and the officious sympathy of her friends.
Filial ties, luxurious surroundings, the
perils and hardships of flight, every con
sideration whatsoever dwindles into in
visibility in the presence of this great in
dignity. Her mother comes and sits by
her, ana after several hours of remon
ttrancc and persuasion induces her to go
so Del, but when 6he comes in the morn
in!?. horanirto see hfir Rrvmfiw'hn.t. Rnnthfid.
3he finds only an empty room and. a hasty
note.
It is 7 A. m., and the mammoth retail
drygoods house of Gray & Gordon begins
w snow signs oi uie without ana witnin.
J? or the last half-hour a continuous
stream of salesmen, shop-girls, and , cash
boys have been pouring into the great
building like so many swallows into a
chimney. Shades are raised, covers taken
off, and simultaneously in every part of
the house begins a vigorous dusting and
putting to rights. 1
The new cashier, a young man with
fine eyes and a pleasant manner, who has
been some three weeks in the establish
ment, comes in and goes behind his desk.
As he does so he notices that there is a
new girl at the glove-counter just oppo
site. Only her head is visible above the
pile of boxes she is dusting. It is crowned
with red-gold hair, and the face is very
beautiful in spite of the hopeless depres
sion it expresses.
Presently the business of the day be
gins. Whenever there comes a pause in
his monotonous labor of stamping bills
and making change, and he looks out
over the green wire net-work that in
closes his desk, his eyes rest naturally
upon the blonde head and delicate figure,
because they are directly in front of him,
and in the course of the day he learns
without making any inquiries that she is
No. 47.
As for the girl herself, she is thinking
of nothing but that terrible day, and
wondering whether she will live through
it. Her face is flushed, her eyes glisten
ing and feverish, the joint result of bad
ventilation and bewildering transactions.
To her the first day behind the counter
seems a shoreless eternity. She can
scarcely remember vhen it began, and
has almost lost faith in its possible ending.
Two hours of this new and trying ordeal
are enough to make her unutterably
weary; before the day is half over she
is aching miserably in every limb and
joint. After this, standing is the purest
agony. All day long the -feminine
division of humanity bears down upon
them en masse. The proprietors, wed
ded to quick sale3 and the largest possi
ble profit, are positively ubiquitous in
their efforts to enforce the strictest atten
tion to duty ; obsequious salesmen, with
an eye to premiums and percentage, step
briskly about; cash-boys scurry hither
and thither, and errand-boys find no rest
for the soles of their feet. But it does
end at last. The customers are gone;
the curtains are up, the counters are
again shrouded in white canvas, making
the long isles look like so many wards in
a hospital, and these human swallows
begin to pour out of their great chimney.
The cashier on his way to the cloak
room sees No. 47 crouching on the ledge
behind her counter. She is thinking of
the long, dark streets that lie before her,
and of the aching feet that protest
against further service.
When he comes back she is still there.
He stops, and says kindly : "If you don't
hurry out they will lock the doors.
Everybody else is gone now."
"How will I ever get home," she
moans, rising wearily, her eyes still red
from crying.
"I'll go with you if vou are afraid. Is
it far?"
"Oh, yes, it's far, and then I am so
tired." He is the only person who has
spoken to her to-day, excepting the cus
tomers she has waited upon. He has
such a'graceful, easy way, that by the
time he has helped her to put on her
cloak he seems like an old acquaintance.
They hurry out together, and are just in
time, for the doors close behind them
with a bang, and the bolts are drawn.
It happens that their ways lie in the
same direction, that they are domiciled
in two dreary boarding-houses not more
than half a square apart, and after this
they go home together every evening,
and speedily come to be very good
friends indeed.
The season known to retail traffic as
' 'busy" waxes and wanes. Summer comes,
and August, sweltering, intolerable, set
tles upon the deserted town. The houses
are like ovens, the streets like blast-fur
naces, and everything that remains be
hind the migratory population is under
going a lingering process of cremation.
The proprietors have fled the heat,
one salesman to a department is found to
be sufficient, and the rest are away taking
their summer vacation. Those who re
main behind have little to do, for there
are hours together when there is not
penny's worth sold.
It happens that "47" is reigning alone
in the glove department, and that she is
a refreshing object for contemplation this
sultry afterfioon in her dress of blue or
gandy, with pale ribbons fluttering at
tnroac ana waist.
Above her head her wares are most ef
fectively displayed in a complete canopy
of long-wnsted gloves in every conceiva
ble color and shade of color, and, there
being nothing else to do, she sits upon
the ledge below the shelving and wields
ar monster palm-leaf.
When nothing is selling there is no
change to be made, and the casliier steps
out of his narrow, stifling inclosure and
wanders in search of a breeze. The long
lace mits that fringe the canopy over the
love-counter are stirred as if by a zephyr,
and the airy freshness of "47" is attrac
tive. He goes behind the counter and
sits down upon the ledge.
You look awfully gloomy to-day.
What is the matter" she asks.
"Well, I have reason to look gloomy.
I have made an unpleasant discovery ; or,
perhaps I should say, I've been unpleas
antly discovered."
"Tell me about it."
"Oh, it is a long story," he says, more
than half persuaded.
"This is a very long afternoon."
"Well, 1 have a very rich and very
crochetv old uncle, and about seven
months ago I received a letter from him
telling me that if I would come and take
charge of his business and marry a girl
that he had picked out for me he would
leave me his fortune. He said the girl
was pretty, and I knew the fortune was
ample, and as I was not getting on any
too well where I was you will infer that
I did not hesitate long before accepting
the proposition. It was all arranged
with the girl, who seemed to be quite
fascinated with the romance of the af
'fair, and I started for the town in which
she and my uncle lived. But on the way
I got to thinking about it, and it struck
me that I would like to see her at least
once before the die was irrevocably cast,
so when I reached the town I hunted up
a cousin of mine who knew her and told
him that he must arrange for me to call
on her incognito. . lie assented very
readily, and; as I only reached there the
day before the wedding was to take
place, we called the night of my arrival.
She came in directly, and I was intro
duced as Mr. Falkner."
"And such a girl ! The moment I laid
eyes on her I grew rigid with indigna
tion to think that my uncle dared im
pose on me in such a way. He had led
me to believe she was everything a man
could want in a wife. I found her
painted like an Indian, dressed in horrid
taste talking at the top of her voice, and
altogether the most ill-bred creature I
had ever seen. I could not stand it, so I
wrote a note to my uncle, left the town
that night, and have never been back
since. I learned to-day for the first time
that the girl I saw was not the one I was
to have married, but a ' friend of her
cousin s, whom he had taken into his
confidence, and that her horrid curls and
her Vulgarity were assumed for the occa
sion, all a part of Dick's little pleasantry ;
and my fiancee, who Dick says is the pret
tiest woman he ever saw, was so cut up by
my brutal behavior and the note I left I
that she ran away, and for a long time
they thought she had drowned herself.
Of course there was a big sensation, and
everybody denounced me. Dick, a
cowardly knave, hadn't the nerve to tell
the truth about it and acknowledge his
part in the affair, but the girl who
abetted his fiendish - deception went
straight to my uncle and told him every
thing as soon as she heard I was cone.
When he saw how it was he swore
that we should both be found, dead or
alive, and if we were alive the marriage
should be consummated. . They started
detectives after us and advertised us
everywhere, and at last they got on the
track ot the girl and they've traced her
to this very town. - Think of it I Dick
says they are sure she is here, and he was
here looking for her when he accident
ally stumbled upon me. They'll find her,
of course; it i3 only a question of a few
hours, and then I must be dragged up
like a schoolboy that has been playing
hookey, and married to a wife of some
other man s choice, or leave here between
two days and give up a good position." .
lie turns toward her, but she manages
the palm-leaf so that he does not see her
face, and asks presently in a hesitating
way: "But if she is as pretty as they say
she is and you would get the money be
sides, why do you object ?"
'Because I am in love with somebody
else, and I'm done with matrimonial ne
gotiations by proxy. I will attend to my
own love affairs hereafter."
He proceeded to carry out this resolu
tion by insinuating an arm between the
shelving and the slight figure that is rest
ing against it.
Tve been in love with somebody else
ever since I found her crying in a corner
not a thousand miles from here, and if
she can only say the same of me I'll
whistle the fortune down the wind and
defy all the detectives in Christendom."
lie draws his arm a little closer about
the yielding figure, and, screened from
view by the swaying fringe of gloves, he
feels safe in bringing the other arm into
position, so forming a complete circuit.
The accommodating palm-leaf is quite
large enough to conceal two heads, and
a sound like a half-audible osculation is
sues from behind it.
A long, low whistle breaks the silence.
Proceedings are immediately adjourned,
and haunted by visions of presuming and
prying cash-boys, they both start up and
confront Dick.
"Have you found her ?" asks the cash
ier, dejectedly.
"Oh, yes, I've found her," says Dick,
leaning heavily upon the counter, as he
wiped the moisture from his brow.
"Miss Davison, allow me to introduce
my cousin, rom winneia; 10m, jiiss
Alice Davison. The introduction seems
to be a little subsequent, but we have
done the best we could."
So, another wedding-feast was spread
beneath the hospitable roof of Mr. Hum
phrey Davison, and this time to some
purpose; for a marriage was solemnized,
at which ceremony Dick, his sins for
given, officiated as best man, and his per
fidious accomplice, minus paint, curls,
and all objectionable features, made a
charming bridesmaid. Chicajo Tribune.
The Farewell Kiss.
Among the confused mass who were
struggling and screaming when the Co
lumbus was wrecked, were noticed a
middle-aged man and his wife. Their con
duct was in marked contrast with that
of the other passengers. The panic
which had seized the others was not
shared by them, but their blanched faces
told that thev realized the peril which
surrounded them. The only movement
of muscles or nerves was produced by
the chilling atmosphere. They stood
close together, their hands clasped in
each other, as if about to contemplate
suicide together, aud thus fulfill the
marital vow of standing by each other
in the varying tide of life's fortunes and
misfortunes. As thewreck careened with
the gale from one side to the other, and
while the spray and waves were drench
ing them at every moment, the husband
turned and imprinted a kiss upon the
companion of his life, and while thus
embraced a heavy sea broke over the
wreck and both were washed away and
not seen afterward. Mr. Cook says the
scene was one which will remain indeli
bly impressed upon his memory until his
dying day. Boston Herald.
In London the tricycle is fitted up for
milk men and newsboys.
The Russian army costs $150,000,000
a year to maintain.
Peculiarities or Babies.
Indian babies, as a rule, are not kept
In their .cradles -more than twenty to
twenty-four hours at any one time. They
are unlimbered for an hour or two every
day and allowed to roll in the hot sand
or tumble on the blanket. When tha
Eappoose is laid in its cradle the mother
others herself np more about it, other
than to keep it in sight and hearing.
She stands it up in a corner of the wig
wam or hangs it on a tree. When
the mothers travel they carry the
cradle on their back, no mattei
how bad the roads or how
dismal the weather. The Esquimaux
babies are carried in their mother's hoods,
and, hemmed up as they are for so many
long months of the year, owing to the
severity of their climate, their parents
fairly surfeit them with toys, all sorts of
miniature models of the rude and simple
implements of their humble life. They
have neat little images of bears, foxes,
seals and birds made out of walrus
ivory, tiny sleds, bows and spears, and
dolls for the little girls. The Esqui
maux mothers are not stern disciplina
rians, and do not use the slipper or box
the ears of the obstreperous child, but
when he becomes refractory they toss
him out into a cool snow-bank, and this
never fails to reduce him to submission.
Indian mothers chant .low dirges to their
babies, or sing little songs in which the
young hopeful is to have a brilliant fu
ture. His little legs will be as big as
the pine-trees ; his arms grow into mus
cles more powerful than those of a griz-.
zly bear: he will never fail in the chase,
-and will be good to his mother when
she is old. Fashion has a great deal to
do about babies and their care. It is not
fashionable for a Parsee baby on the
banks of the Ganges to ever go with his
head uncovered. At night or by
day, in doors or out, the
young Parsee always has on
his jaunty silk cap. In Algiers it is quite
the mode for babies to ride pick-a-buck,
and in Bavaria they are tied flat to the
nurse's back. In Italy babies wear droll
little vcaps and little old-fashioned cos
tumes, like their grandmothers, or they
go .in leading strings or in a wicker-work
frame. Wheu the mother goes to market
she hangs the baby in a basket on one
side of the donkey, and the little brother
or sister in a similar basket on the other
side. The babies and vegetables get
along in the basket together, and on top
sits the mother in a parasol hat, knitting
or sewing as she goes along.
Wood as Food.
W. Mattieu Williams says in an article
in Popular Science Monthly: Certain ani
mals have a remarkable ower of digest
ing ligneous tissue. The beaver is an
example of this.. The whole of its
stomach, and more especially that sec
ondary stomach, the caecum, is often
found crammed or plugged with frag
ments of wood and bark. I have opened
the crops of several Norwegian ptarmigan
and found them filled with no other food
than the needles of pines, upon which
they evidently feed during the winter.
The birds, when cooked, were scarcely
eatable on account of the strong resinou'
flavor of the flesh.
I may here, by the way, correct the
commonly-accepted version of a-popular
story. We are told that when Marie
Antoinette was informed of a famine in
the neighborhood of the Tyrol, and of
the starving of some of the peasants
there, she replied: "I would rather eat
pie-crust" (some of the story-tellers say
"pastry") "than starve." Thereupon the
courtiers giggled at the ignorance of the
pampered princess, who supposed that
starving peasants had such an alternative
food as pastry. " The ignorance, however,
nu all on the side of the courtiers and
J who repeat the story in its ordi
nary form. The princess was the only
person in the court who really under
stood the habits of the peasants of thi
particular district in question, ". They
cook their meat, chiefly young veal, by
rolling it in a kind of dough made of
sawdust, mixed with as little coarse
flour as will hold it together; then place
this in an oven or in wood-embers until
the dough is hardened to a tough crust,
and the meat is raised throughout to the
cooking -point. Marie Antoinette said
she would rather eat croutins than starve,
'knowing that these croutins, or meat
crusts, were given to the pigs; that the
pigs digested them, and were nourished
by them in spite of the wood-sawdust.
The Work or -a Single Hair.
In the base of the capitol at Washing
ton is the enginery by which the House,
the Senate and the committee rooms are
warmed and ventilated, and the gas
lighted Dy electricity. It is altogether a
big apparatus, consisting of three im
mense fans, four engines and eight boil
ers, with the necessary appliances foi
regulating the temperature and moisture
of the air supplied to the nation's legis
lators. The instrument which tells
whether the air is too moist or too dry is
operated by a single human hair. A per
fectly dry hair is put at 0 ; saturated air,
that is carrying all the moisture it will
hold, is put at 100. A dial with a hand
like that of a clock represents the differ
ent figures from 0 to 100. The human
hair, absorbs moisture like a rope, and
like a rope it becomes shorter when wet.
The difference in length between a ha'r
six inches long when wet and the same
hair when dry, is made to represent the
hundred degrees of moisture on the dial;
and the hand, or pointer, moves back
ward or forward as the moisture . in the
air varies. .If it becomes too dry more
steam is thrown in; if too moist, less
steam is allowed to escape, and thus th
atmosphere for the nation's statesmen is
regulated and kept at the healthful
point, which is about fifty degrees.
Not very humorous, but still a paper
full of sharp points a paper of pins.
Ashmore Toothpick,
T1IE MODEL BEAU.
Sentimental Suggestions as to Wluc
a Swain fchould Be
The New York Morning Journal offered
a prize of a big box of old-fashioned mo
lasses taffy to the contributor sending in
the best poem on "The Model Beau.
Among the bushel or more of contribu
tions received, the best are the following-,
the prize winner being the writer of th
lines signed "Jay, from Newark:"
No Bull Dog Required
Qh!.
Bestow
On me a beau '
Who has some sense to know
When to go!
Mary J. K.
Drees Does Not make the IOan
Not merely mustache, cane and curl,
With stare and manner rude ;
What kind of a beau can we make, do row
know.
Of the nattering, modern dudet
Not mere trousers, coat and vest
Adopted by some elf ;
Butiust a man, an honest man,
WhoU love you for yourself.
Hattie O.
lie Doesn't Live in New York
The model beau
So far as I know,
Is one who neither drinks nor smokes;
He dresses neat;
His talk discreet
Indulges not in silly jokes.
He is refined,
And not inclined
To flirt with every girl he sees;
He has but one .
Under the sun,
And only her he tries to please.
John Charles.
Too Good to Liive.
The model beau is one, methinks,
Who has no appetite for drinks,
But treasures up his ducats spare.
To purchase the confections rare
Which tickle Claribers larynx.
You'll find him with the pretty minx
In theatres or skating rinks
He's all attention, I declare,
The model beau!
He writes in variegated inks
Effusions which would pose a Sphinx,
He strokes his upper Up with care
And in the middle parts his hair,
And yet the ladies style young Blinks
"The model beau!"
George B. Haywood.
Arrayed a la Mode
f then as model young beaus you wouU
shine.
Dress like King Sothy, in raiment most fine?
Wear single eye-glasses and twirl your mus
taches, And gaze on the dear girls withrapture di
vine. Bang your hair smoothly, never talk rudely;
Bathe your complexion in pure lily white,
Act very slyly, kiss your girl shyly,
And never, on I never, be caught outnijjht.
Multum in Parro
Lots of money in his purse,
Always ready to disburse;
Good strong arms to hug the belles,
Pockets full of caramels ;
Well cut clothes and big mustache
That's the beau ideal " mash."
Anne Lloyd.
lie Who Knows When To Go
The model beau
Will always go.
About the hour of ten;
. While those who stay
Till near next day
Are not the model men.
Annex Boy.
Liberal aud Loving-.
Will ask his girl to go
To every first-class show;
He also ne'er refuses
To do whatever she choses.
Is it ice-cream or candy ! '
His pocketbook is handy. .-
Just so.
Model beau
I know 1
Po ReL.
Too Nice For Anything;
The model beau is he,
Who when he comes to me,
His eyes with love they 6hino
As he lifts them up to mine.
Who when he kisses me
His heart goes out in glee,
His true love does impart
To my humble, willing heart.
Who when he takes his leave,
Gives me no cause to grieve
For fear he will forget . ,
His precious love, his pet.
"Jay" from Newark.
Only Money Needed.
This is true, very true.
Although it sounds funny::
He requires no brains
If he has plenty of money.
A. W. EL
A Beau Ideal.
A calm, protecting air,
A soft, yet manly voice;
A good mustache and plenty of r-ntCH
And you have a maiden's choice.
r. c. w.
Mother-in-Law Wisdom.
The mother-in-law's fountain of knowl
edge philosophy, according to R. Bur
dette, the Burlington Hawkeye humorist:
She meeteth her son-in-law at the door
when the new clock tolleth fourteen, and
he essayeth to let himself into the hall by
unlocking the front gate with his watch
key. And for this ofttimes he feareth
her.
She knoweth his ways and his tricks
are not new unto her. She is up to all
his excuses, and when he sayeth he was
detained down at the bank until the next
morning;
Or, that the last car had gone, and he
had to walk;
Or, that he was sitting up with a sick
friend ;
Or, that he was looking for . his collar
button;
Or, that he was drawn on the jury ;
Or, that he had joined the. astronomy
class;
Or, that his books wouldn't balance;
Then doth she get onto him with both
feet, for she sayeth within herself : "All
these things hath his fathex-in-law said
unto me for lol these many years. Lot
this is, also vanity and vexation of spirit.