KY TREASURE.
I have hidden away from the light of day
A treasure I sacred hold ;
land It flashes not with the diamond'! ray,
And it is not yellow (fold;
And it Is not beryl, nor sapphire rare
Aa blue as the tropic sea
This treasure, guarded with love and care,
Is worthless to all but met
It Is not the ghost of a rosebud pale,
Or of rose full-blown and red;
Nor a violet plucked in some mossy dale,
With its fragrant sweetness fled.
ITls no leaf by a lover's touch made dear ;
1 For me it has memories none
Of that springtime of joy and hope and
fear
When my heart was lost and won.
But it brings me the sound of baby feet,
And the lisp of a silent voice ;
And the small moist hands that my own
hands meet
Make my empty heart rejoice.
In the holy calm, when the bright stars
shine
The deepening azure through,
There is kiss of mine, there is tear of
mine
I For my treasurea baby's shoe.
"Yon see," Bald the blackmailer de
cidedly, "I have you In my power."
The rich man shifted uneasily in his
seat, so that his face was thrown into
Beeper shadow, but he made no reply.
"Yes," continued the blackmailer, "It
just amounts to this. You come here,
as if you had never seen the place be
fore, figuring at Robert W. Harrison,
the great American millionaire; you
buy Irvlngstone park, and think you're
a county gentleman, and your girl
comes over from her Paris school and
appears as Miss Harrison, of th park,
the great American millionaire's daugh
ter." "Who says I am not a mllllonalrer
Interposed the rich man. Ills face was
still In the shade.
"Oh, no, Mr. er Harrison I No one
eays you are not that I took care to
tnake sure of that before I came here."
"Then what do you want?" '
"Merely a little share of your prop
erty, Bob Wilde."'
He who was known at Robert Harrl
on started violently j for a moment his
"what about youb dauqhteb?"
face came into the bright glare of the
reading lamp on his study table, and
there was on It a look of unmitigated
astonishment -
"You know that!" he cried. Then
In another voice : "Well, what of It? I
took Harrison for business purposes,
and It Is legally my own now."
"Well," pursued the blackmailer In
Binooth tones, helping himself from a
box of cigars on the table as he spoke,
"call It business purposes if you like.
For the present, we can drop Bob
Wilde, but" drawing his clialr nearer
and speaking in an impressive whis
per "what about that robbery in the
bank at Carberton, on November 15,
some thirty years ago?"
"You know that, too? You know
that?" "I know you are the man who ab
sconded with 300 of the Lank funds
that night and that it's not too late
now to tell the whole story to the po
lice, or for you to be arrested for It"
"Don't don't bo hard on me," plead
ed the rich man, in a faltering voice.
"Hard on you I" with a confident
laugh "I like that Now, I look upon
you as my little bank, and I intend
you to help me."
"And If I refuser
"Then good-bye to Robert narrlson
of the park and enter Bob Wilde, the
bank thief."
"Have you no mercy?" pleaded Mr.
Harrison, pathetically. "Who are you?
How did you find all this out? I hare
never seen you before."
"You'd have seen me dozens of times
before if yon had kept your eyes open.
You see, I work at Williams', Carber
ton. I've been there a good many years
now, slaving away at a miserable two
pounds a week ; but naturally, I've al
ways been on the lookout for some
thing better. Well, in the attic at the
top of the house there's a tot of old
boxes; been there goodness knows how
many years. I soon found keys to fit
and after going through a lot of musty
old clothe and books, I came on a
bundle of ancient letters from old Will
lams' brother In Amorlca. Well, of
course, I sat down to read them."
"Of course," murmured the million
aire, faintly.
"In the very first letter I opened I
read, I do believe I saw Bob Wilde,
Jtvho robbed the Carberton bank, In the
streets here last week.' Further on, In
another letter but here, I needn't tell
you how I ferreted It all out; but In
the end I made out that Bob Wilde and
Robert Harrison are the same person,
and you've owned It now."
"Well, If I five you 500
The man burst Into a loud, rough
laugh, which he instantly smothered.
"Five hundred!" he said, scornfully,
"I want five thousand."
"Impossible."
"Oh. is It? Just think It over, Bob,
my friend. What about your daugh
ter?"
"Ah!" burst from behind Robert
Harrison's bands, In a sudden groan.
"Ah! I thought that would rouse
you. Here's Miss Molly, you ee, en
gaged to the son of Sir John Brandon.
What about that engagement If I go
and tell Sir John who Robert Harrison
is?"
"Enough!" cried the millionaire.
"Enough I I give In. But I can't give
you the money now. 'Come to-morrow
night, or, stay I've a dinner party to
morrow say the night after."
"No, I won't I'll say to-morrow; It
suits me better."
II.
People were always willing to come
to one of Robert Harrison's dinners.
This evening's party had been no ex
ceptlon to the rule. No one was anx
ious to shorten the evening, but at last
one or two prepared to say good-bye.
"I want to beg you all to stay a little
longer," said the host "I have a little
surprise, a a-kind of entertainment
Will you all follow me?"
They all trooped after falm to the
millionaire's -study. Folding doors,
covered on the shady side by thick cur
tains, separated the room from another,
These doors had been opened to-night
but the curtains still draped the open'
Ing, and opposite ao them chairs had
been placed.
Smiling rather oddly, the host disap
peared Into ' the study, and carefully
drew the curtains together behind htm.
Then the door Into the study from
the outside was heard to open, and a
man's voice said Jauntily, "Well, Bob!
Here I am, you see. Now then, where's
the tin?"
Was chat Robert Harrison's voice
that answered In a cringing, wheedling
manner, "Certainly, Mr. Gregson of
course only, won't you reconsider It
Do do let me off," whined the rich
man's voice, and the other took up the
strain mockingly. "Let you off? Oh,
yes, I'll let you off-when I've done
with you. Pay up or take the conse
quences." "Is your mind quite made up?" Mr.
Harrison seemed to be walking about
the room as he said this.
"Quite, you thief, you miserable rob
ber 1 Pay me my 8,000, or I'll tell the
whole neighborhood that you are the
man wfoo robbed the Carberton bank
thirty years ago."
"Then tell them now!" rang out In
the millionaire's deepest tones as he
dashed the curtains back, revealing
"all the neighborhood" In various atti
tudes of astonishment
The blackmailer stood holding to the
back of his chair, the picture of be
wildered rage.
"It's Just this!" panted the black
mailer. 'He's a thief ! He left Carber
ton thirty years ago."
"Quite true," said Mr. Harrison
smoothly, taking up the tale. "I left
Carberton thirty years ago ran away,
In fact. At the same time 300 of the
bank money disappeared. I did not
know It at the time; I heard of It
more than a year afterward. The fel
low clerk who was the thief knew him
self to be dying of consumption, and
he wrote to me and confessed what he
had done and how he lhad-always al
lowed me to be blamed for the theft
The money had been gambled away al
most at once. He told inie to show the
letter, If I must after he was dead,
but begged me, If I could, to be gener
ous for the sake of the young wife he
was leaving. I destroyed the letter
and simply adopted the name of Har
rison. I had run away simply because
I was tired of my life in the bank and
longed for wider fields. This Is my
story. I can ask you to believe It; I
cannot prove It."
"But I canl" said a voice from the
background.
All turned in astonishment It was
Mrs. Cartwrlght Deadly pale, and
trembling very mudh, she stood facing
them all. "The thief," she said slowly,
"was my first husband, James Trevor !"
"Mrs. Trevor! Is it possible? And
I did not recognize you !"
"I did not recognize you, Robert you
have changed so much, or I would not
have kept the secret as I have done. It
has weighed on my mind all these
years ; but you had disappeared, and I
thought It could not matter. Before
James died he wrote out a full confes
sion and signed It before witnesses. 'If
ever Robert is in trouble for want of It
you can produce It then,' he told me.
I have kept It ever since. Forgive me
I "
Every one began shaking hands at
this point except, to the general sur
prise, Sir John Brandon. He stood
Immovable all this time, with his eyes
fixed on the features of Robert Harri
son, and an unreadable, somewhat puz
aled expression on tils own face. Al
bert Gregson, still holding to the back
of a chair, had been almost forgotten,
but he had one more card left.
"Sir John !" he cried, In a high, sharp
voice. r "Sir John Brandon ! You don't
know who this man Is whose daughter
your son Is going to marry. You don't
know, I say! Why, you knew him well
as a boy he's Just Bob Wilde, the son
of your father's keeper !"
The rich man turned and faced "the
proudest man in the county" with a
smile that lit up his plain, strong face.
"Master John?" he said softly.
"Old Bob I" shouted Sir John, dash
ing at him and overturning two chairs.
"It 1st Itlsl My dear, dear old Bob!"
he was shaking both bands at once
now "to think I never knew you all
this timet Oh, Bob I How often I've
wondered about you ! The times we had
when we were boys! and you never
told your oldest friend ! nere, where's
that blackmailing scoundrel Gregson?
I'm a magistrate. I'll deal with hun !
"Why, he's gonel" said a chorus of
voices.
And he bad, never to be heard of
again. London Answers. -
OTHER COLD SUMMERS. -
Snow ana Sleet on the Fourth of July
Not I'noommon.
The first weather of which I have
any recollection was July 4, 1844.
There was a great celebration In the
middle of the town of Vernon, Vt It
may have had some political slgnifl
cance, I do not remember. The men
drew pine trees and set them In the
ground on Meeting House Hill to make
the pavilion in which the tables were
set for the banquet There were ex
erclses and an oration in the church,
procession, and the local militia turn
ed out; Major Lee and other Revolu
tionary War veterans were consplcu-
oua My father was In the military
company with epaulets of silver fringe
and tassels on his shoulders, and my
mother, In a white gown with a white
parasol with green figures, marched
with the procession and sang In the
choir. And I remember that the para
sol gave way for a Highland shawl,
that everybody suffered with cold and
that there were snowflakes In the air,
if not a regular snowfall; and of Dr,
Cyrus Washburne, the marshal of the
day, coming to my grandmother, under
whose wing I was, for a cup of hot tea,
and making one of his facetious re
marks about Providence playing into
his hands, that ha might have plenty
of business for the remainder of the
summer and of her rebuking him for
his irreverence, as he Intended she
should, there being always some sort
of a lively tilt between the two.
In June, 1852, there was a thunder
shower during which there was a fall
of snow and sleet that covered the
ground to the depth of several inches.
I remember how my father's well
kept garden In West Northfleld looked
with the corn, peas, onions and other
early vegetables sticking up through
the snow, and that as we were walk
ing about in the snow, Eastman Beld-
lng came driving' along and, stopping
in neighborly fashion to exchange ex
periences about the weather, he said:
"Had you heard the news that Frank
lin Pierce, of New Hampshire, got the
nomination for President yesterday?
My Republican came Just before I left
home, and I saw It In that" And my
father said : "He will be elected, but
he's a nobody j why did they not noml
nate a somebody while they were
about It? There are plenty In the par
ty." The spring of 1SC5 was nearly, If not
quite, as backward as this. I remem
ber hearing a man remark that pesti
lence and 'famine always followed a
war, and that the late spring betoken
ed the famine. I also recall that a
large garden was plowed and planted
that year on July 4, and there was a
good crop and a quick one. The vege
tables could almost be seen to grow.
One Fourth of July in one of the
late sixties, I think, I remember of hot
lemonade being served at our home in
West Northfleld; and a few days later
In Belchertown, where I was on a vis
it, I remember hearing Mrs. D. Thomp
son say that she had not bad her stove
taken from her sitting room, and of
the fire she had on Independence Day,
and that previously throughout the
season she had had a fire much of the
time. Springfield Republican. '
A Duel Averted.
Slgnor Carduccl, the great Italian
poet, who has recently died, came near
having a duel one day, according to a
writer In Le Crl de Paris. He possessed
fine spirit of contradiction, and had
the characteristics of a fighter. Once
when traveling in Lombardy he was In
railway compartment with an army
officer who did not recognize him. Con
versation turned upon the latest liter
ary productions. They spoke of a poem
by the author of "Odes Barbares,"
which has Just appeared.
"This Carduccl," exclaimed the offi
cer, with enthusiasm, "Is a superb
genius ! The greatest since Dante, the
equal of Dante himself."
'Humph!" responded the other. "A
genius 1 That's too much to say. I find
him mediocre."
Mediocre, sir? You don't know any
thing about it"
"Oh, you are of Incapable of Judging."
"I !"
"You!"
"Sir!"
"Sirl"
The officer handed his card to the
disputant
The other smiled. "There s mine."
On It was the name, "Glosue Carduc
cl, professor of the University of Bo
logna," The officer, removing his hat bowed
politely, and then both men laughed.
Tho Lawyer and the Reformer.
The prison reformer met the convict
ed lawyer In his striped garb.
"And what brought you here, unhap
py man?" she asked him.
His old time cleverness asserted It
self.
"An automobile," he blithely replied.
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Agarravatlag-.
"Did I tell you the story of the old
church bell?"
"No. Let's hear It"
"Sorrr. but It can be tolled onlr on
Sunday.' Cleveland Plain Dealer.
The better acquainted a man Is with
himself the harder It Is to fool tilia.
A. Completed Life. -
Erect but with white hair, vigorous,
but with the vigor of advanced' age,
the Rev. Eliot Walters sat In the little
country parsonage In Vermont and
read the ten words on the yellow tele
graph form again and again.
His son was dead. That he himself
must die, and soon, he had long recog
nised; but his son, who was just be
ginning to live!
There was no hope which the father
had cherished for himself and left be
hind him with the flight of years which
he had not renewed and cherished
again In his pride in his son. He had
begun with small opportunities, and
gained his education by the most heroic
sacrifice. Great had been his Joy at
seeing his son equipped with the best
the schools could give to him. In col
lege he had led his class; in the theo
logical school-he had received honors;,
and having entered the ministry, he
had risen rapidly and with sure and
safe progress.
Two years before his death he had
accepted a call to a great city; and
there to a cultivated and influential
congregation he ministered, with in
creasing acceptance.
Now and then his sermons were re
ported in the papers, and his father
read them, every word. He would go
far, that young man, the father said,
and what was best of all, he deserved
It He was a good boy; this was his
proud word to other people; and there
was no meaning native to fatherly hope
and pride which he did not express in
those words.
And now he was dead! Dead be
fore his father, and with the 'plans
Just at the threshold of their glorious
promise!
The old father did not go to the
funeral. It was more than a thousand
miles, and when he stood In his pulpit
at home on the day his son was burled
far away he looked so frail, so pale,
so suddenly aged, that every heart
ached for him, as his had ached a
thousand times with the sorrow of oth
ers.
Then the church In the distant city,
its own membership heartbroken, re
membered the deeper sorrow of the
lonely old man, and did a beautiful
thing. A communion service was ap
proaching, at which forty persons were
to unite with the church. They were
persons whom the young pastor had
led across the threshold Into the sweet
life of the gospel, and whom he had
expected to welcome to membership.
The church sent a thousand miles to
the old father, and asked him to come
to them and conduct that service.
And so be stood at the communion
table and broke the bread and gave the
right hand of fellowship to forty of
those whom his son had helped onward
In the Christian life.
It was a sad service, but as beautiful
as it was sad, and as comforting as
It was pathetic. Nor did they permit
the old man to return at once, but
kept him for another Sunday and yet
another, and filled the church and list
ened to his earnest words.
They showed him not only what his
son had planned to do, but what he had
already done the good begun which
would not be permitted to be lost, the
lives helped by his life and sealed by
his death. They comforted themselves
In helping his greater sorrow ; his grief
was assuaged In comforting them. The
old man went beck to the little par
sonage In the hills, still lonely, but
with a new sense of comfort ; still sor
rowing, but not as be had sorrowed be
fore. For God had given him to see
that something of his dead son's work
was not only begun, but still In pro
gress, and much was completed; and
he thanked God and took courage.
Youth's Companion.
Value of Prayer.
If the value of Draver were but
known, every one would be assiduous
about it It is a stronghold Into which
the enemy cannot enter. He may at
tack It, besiege it, but while we are
faithful, he cannot hurt us. Let the
dull or hard hearts which can retain
nothing come to practice of prayer, and
tney snan become wise. Come to the
iountaln of all good without comolaln-'
tag to weak and Impotent creatures
who cannot help you. Oh, how much
compassion has this sad experience
given me for sinners; as it taught me
why so few of them emeree from the
miserable state into which they have
rauen. Tne devil is outrageous against
prayer and those that exercise it be-
cause he knows It is the means of tak
ing his prey from him. No sooner
does one enter Into a spiritual life, a
life of prayer, but he must prepare for
strange crosses. Madam Guyon.
A Golden Text.
A lndy tells of a visit she made at
one time in a beautiful home where
lived a dear old lady. Aunt Ahhv.
Seeing her sitting In her rocking-chair
by the window one day, and looking a
bit lonely, as she passed by she put her
arm around her and kissed her cheek.
The old lady flushed with pleasure and
said, "Thank you, dear. Thank you."
"Why, Aunt Abby," said the lady, "I
am surprised that you should seem to
care so much." "My dear," she said
earnestly, "kiss your mother; kiss her
often. You don't know how much good
It will do her. Ah ! we kissed them so
much when they were little ones, the
darlings! but now they have So much
to do, and so many cares, It Is not
strange tnat tney seem to forget iney
are so kind and fcood. They want us
to have everything, and more than wfc
need. It Is only that they are always
so busy. Don't forget dear, to kiss
jour mother every day. It will make
her very happy, and when she Is goue,
the memory, will be all the sweeter.
Come to la, Lord.
Come to us, Lord, as the daylight cornea
When the darkling night has gone,
And the quickened East is Sremulous
. With the thrill of the wakened dawn.
Come to us, Lord, as the tide comes In
With the waves from the distant sea ;
Come, till our desert places smile,
And our souls are filled with Thee. .
Come to us, Lord, on our beds of pain,
And soothe the fevered smart;
Come to" our grief and our loneliness,
And pillow our heads on Thy heart.
Come to ns, Lord, when the tempter
dares
Our faltering faith to smite;
Come, that the powers of satan then
May haste to take their flight
Come to us, Lord ; we watch for Thee;
We shall never feel surprise,
If sudden we lift our eyes and see
The dayspring o'er us rise.
Margaret E. Sangster.
Gratitude.
Probably we are none of us as grate
ful for life's blessings as we should
be.
Gratitude, like faith, hope and char
ity must be cultivated as we should de
velop without attention.
Every one will discover, If he looks
for it, more reason In his life for grati
tude than he ever dreamed of.
In cataloguing your blessings give
due emphasis to the spiritual. If you
undervalue any, let It be tho temporal.
We ought to be grateful for many
things which awaken no response in
our souls. Are you grateful for hard
things, for big loads, for arduous du
ties? Have you ever learned to say,
"I glory In tribulations also?" Pres
byterian Journal.
Having- Faith. .
I do not know when or how it may
please God to give you the quiet of
mind that you need ; but I tell you that
I believe that it Is to be had ; and in
the meantime you must go on doing
your work, trusting In God even for
this. George Macdonald.
HIS TACTFUL WAY.
rwVwWwWrw,wWWW
Dr. Hardle surveyed his new exten
sion telephone without enthusiasm. It
was exactly where the former tenants
of the apartment had theirs posi
tion which he and his wife had de
cided was the worst possible.
"What reason did he give for not
putting It where you said?" he asked
her.
"Oh, he kept saying, 'Short circuit
short circuit; you'd have a funeral In
two days,'" Mrs. Hardle answered.
"There was something about Its being
too near the radiator; he said 'twas
dangerous. I spoke pretty sharply to
him at lost but he absolutely refused
to do as I said."
"H'm! Didn't want to do the extra
work. 'Well, never mind, my dear.
I'll have It changed."
That night the doctor wrote the tel
ephone company a letter which was a
masterpiece of tact. "It never does to
antagonize people," he remarked, sage
ly, as he sealed the envelope, "Your
speaking sharply to that man was a
mistake. This letter will make its
point, and still leave them good-natured."
Mrs. Hardle looked doubtful.- It
seemed to her that the occasion re
quired plain talk. Time went by, and
nothing happened. Her husband tele
phoned numerous tactful .messages to
the installment bureau, and still noth
ing happened. At last however, after
three weeks of gentle perseverance, he
obtained results.
"They've promised l t0 send 'a com
petent man out' to-day," he told his
wlte one morning. "Now before , he
does a thing you lhave hitn. call me up.
I want to talk to him myself." :.
The man came, and Mrs. Hardle
obeyed orders Implicitly. That night
she met her husband with a beaming
face. "He's fixed everything as we
wanted It, Lewis," she announced. "He
took my orders like a lamb. . Whatever
did you say to him? It worked like
magic." . : v
Ju8t tact,, my dear," was the com
placent answer. "I began by Jollying
him ; said I knew from bis voice, that
he understood his business, and all
that Then I told him confldentJAlly
that the other fellow they sent out
was a lazy, pig-headed chump, and
what's the matter, Alice? What! Tine
same man?" , . V
Dr. Hardle backed weakly against
the door. "Well," he admitted, after
a sheepish pause, "I thought I was
being tactful all right, but what I real
ly did was to call him a string of
names as long as your arm." ;
A Bard Proposition.
"Charlie Choofer ran into a fat man
with his new car.". .
"Any damage?"
"Yes, one lamp was broken and a
mud guard bent and Charlie thinks of
suing the fat man." Cleveland Plain
Dealer.
You may have noticed that one girl
no sooner breaks a man's heart than
another comes along and bandages it
up. '
When a woman Is talking she dis
likes to be Interrupted as much as a
man does when he is eating.
RAM'S HORN BLASTS.
Warning; Nltes Calling- the Wicked,
to Repentance.
HRISTIANITY is
not in ethics, but
in faith. When
the Son of man
cometh - will He
find faith on the
earth? ,
An optimist is
one who -keeps
alive the Joy de
rived from com
mon things.
We should not be with wicked men
as their companions, but as their phy
sicians. Christ did not bnild Ills Gospel on a
"grand perhaps,'" but on the eternal
"know.
Elijah did not have to wait for a
referendum before he began bis work
of reform.
The trouble with many upllfters la
that they love their notions more than
the people.
, Faith is often as little effective for
righteousness as unbelief, because It
lacks grip.,
Religion may become an escape from
duty, rather than its inspiration and
fulfillment
There is something wrong with the?
man who can be satisfied while the sa
loon remains.
.Jesus was at His best in heart-to-heart
ministration; multitudes always
thronged Him.
"It abldeth alone" explains away
somo lives. They have never learned
the law of service.
There are two sides to the saloon
auestion the side that wants tn nut
down the saloon, and the side that
wants- to put down what Is in the sa
loon. HOLLAND THE HOME OF CHEESE.
Women Assist at Hoorn in Unload
ing and Reloading-. ,
Early in the morning thequiet street
Is awakened by the quick, hard trot of
heavy horses, the rattle of many wag
ons, and when we reach the square on.
which the weighhouse fronts there are
already long rows of cheeses neatly
laid in readiness for the market and
others being rapidly unloaded from
those heavy wagons which had broken
our slumbers. Down every street
which leads to the market they are
still coming, these high, strong, well-'
built, well-kept wagons, drawn by big,
heavy-trotting, well-groomed horses,
driven by the cheesemaking Boer and
loaded with wife, a blue-eyed child
or two and many round, yellowcheeses.
f says a writer in Scribner.
Swiftly they take up their position
on the square, the horse is quickly un
fastened and led to a nearby stable,
the wife clambers down and hurries
off on shopping intent, while the chil
dren trot along after her or feast their
eyes in nearby shop windows. Some
one has already climbed Into the wag
on, another helper stands close beside
It, a third kneels upon canvas stretch
ed on the stone pavement
Women, as well as men, assist here
at Hoorn in the unloading and reload
ing, the piling of the cheeses, the prep
aration for the market and the after
cleaning. The work goes forward wlthi
astonishing rapidity and dexterity. The
golden yellow balls fly from hand to
hand, sometimes across a considerable
distance. Looking over the mai-ket the
air seems full of them, a peaceful bat
tle of yellow cannon balls In, which
thorn oro no wnnnried. Never a cheese-
falls to the ground, though they are
fairly heavy and very slippery The
experts show their skid by receiving;
and tossing two at a tfme. The wagon
unloaded, it is drawn away into a side
street or convenient stable shed and
another takes its place. After each
farmer's load is arranged It Is care-,
fully covered with a layer of straw
and a heavy white tarpaulin, a pro-;
tectlon from sun or possible showers'
Hunt uwmi an unknown nnnntltv ' In '
Cleanly, watery Holland., .;,
Much care, apparently, Is ejcerclsett
in placing the cheeses, in '''.selecting;
tnose lor tne corners anu outer rows, ;
and setting ; them carefully so their
soft roundness shall not sxiffer, but"all
this work is done by the regular heh
ers. ' " : . " - ' y "
Leading- Question. '
The younger teachers of the Lincolni
school", are telling with glee a great
Joke on Miss Blank, one of the oldest
and most capable Instructors in the'prl-
mary grades of our schools.
Miss Blank came down to his desk and
said, "What is your name?"
"Harold Smith," the bright young
ster replied. -
"And how old are you?" went or
Miss Blank in her methodical way.
"Six," said Harold.' "How old are
your.. And the young teachers are laughing;
still. Pittsburg Press.
Use for Old Pennies. ; -
Four hundred pounds of obsolete?
German pennies of about the same pro
portion of copper and tin as used la
high conduct! vely electrical castings.
have, it Is said, recently been purchas
ed at 21 cents a pound by United
States manufacturers, being cheaper
now than electrolytic copper.
Foretells Coming- of Frost.
VA French Invention, consisting of
bulb thermometers, predicts . at sun
down whether there will be a frost
The man who accepts a situatloa
usually gets less out of It than tha-
,maa who takes a Job, '