M
T
WASHINGTON ROCK, NEW JERSEY
Bore (id this (riant rock, backed by this wood
We viewed Die hostile ml coats of the foil,
Lwi by Cornwall! on tuo plains twlow,
Wotlng their movements, while uouoealed hi
Stood.
What ft vwit prospect was before his eye.
Where now fair plains aud pleasant towui
abnumil
Yomier'i the gray of Staten Inland sound,
Ami here the Karltan, low, winding lie.
New Brunswick's but a down jumps you'd
think.
O'er there the towers of Brooklyn bridge, st
tall:
Tonilnr fatnl Liberty enlightening all,
And there'll the gusty ridge of Naveuliik.
Bow varied are the scenes which spread
below,
Whore Washington once stood and watched
tin Tool
lid ward ti Oreamer In New York Bon.
SK1MPSEY.
Whistling, all out of tune, asnatoh oi
some popular melody an be Rat perabed op
a wooden fence, with his peaked cap turned
backward and thrust ou the back of bit
head, and his miserable thin legs to theii
dirty white breeches, all doubled up, sal
Skimpsey, From under a plentiful crop 01
bright red hair Rhone hia blue eyes eye
that had a merry twinkle in them in aplu
of the fact that this wait a big race day and
a stake day at Monmouth park, and as yet
Ski ni we y had do hope of a mount.
For Skimpsey was a Jockey and made hit
living on the race track, lie had been e
table boy from the time he was old enough
to lead a home, and now be waw eighteen
ud a full fledged jockey. Tom Ferntn
was his name once, aud Ferrari was the
same run up on the track when he rode,
but among the jockeys and stable boys and
the thousand and one loiterers about the
track, he was Skimpsey. They had called
htm Sktmpsey, In their own expressive
fashion, ever sinee his father died and Tom
had taken to saving money. This ts very
unusual in boys about the race track, and
when Tom suddenly ceased netting aud
treating his friends to cigarettes and other
varlons dissipations In which he had pre
TiouHly Indulged, they regarded him with
diHtruHt, If nut with absolute dislike.
But If his 'unpopularity ever troubled
Skimpsey, he uever allowed himself to
show it. Always cheerful and good
natural amoug the boys, and willing and
respectful to hla superiors, he anon won
for himself a reputation as a conscientious
aud capable lightweight jockey, Conse
quently, his services wore often in demand,
aud once or twice a wank Skimpsey made
his way to the city and laid in the lap ol
bis mother, who lived in the humblest oi
Data in the poor part of the city, a very
respectable sum of money. It was hard
nough to resist the many temptations at
the track, to bear the Jokes and tun i it of
the other boys, but when at lust be would
place the money in hia mother's hand he
would fuel fully recompensed.
Skhnpsuy's mother was a seamstress,
and, aa her wan face and bent form at
tested, Industriously strove to do her part
with Hkimpsey In the brave struggle. Of
Skimpuey's father, perhaps the least said
the better. He had Iwen a trainer of race
borses, aud finally attained au ofllcial posi
tion on the race crack. Dying suddenly, It
was discovered that he had rubbed the club
of over Ifi.uou; and it was to make up this
deficiency, to restore honor to his dead
father's uume and to his own, that Skimp
sey, with his mother's assistance, was
working so industriously. The sum at
first seemed, to these two poor people,
enormous, but the earnings of a good
jockey are surprlslugly large, and now, the
amount almost completed, the tuouey lay
In a savings bank ou Broadway,
. And so It wus that Skimpaey whistled
cheerily as he sat all by himself on the
board fence. He thought of his mother
and how glad she would be when the debt
was paid. She need not work auy longer,
be thought, for he could earn money
enough to support them both easily. He
would Aud hur a plemtanter home than
that miserable flat, and he would buy her
a green velvet coat, like Mrs. Hlntou, the
trainer's wife, wore. Thou when he could
save up some money he would buy him
self a new suit of clothes, and, joy of joys!
a silver watch ohuin with a big silver
horse hanging from it, and perhaps some
day a big beaver bat like Dan McCarthy's.
With all these bright visions chasing
each other through his brain, it is not sur
prising that Skimpsey did not hear the
addling bell for the first rime. Fie did not
even heed the trumpet catting the horses
out, aud later the roar of the vast crowd as
the cry went up, "They're offl They're
oil' I" until suddenly he heard a voice say
ing, "Here he let" and tiklmpguy jumped
down from the fence as two men ap
proached him.
"Far rare," said Mr. Hinton, the trainer,
"here's Mr. Melville, aa wautsyouto ride
Haiti Marian in the Seaside stakes."
"What! me?" cried Skimpaey iu delight
ful surprise, for he hud uever riddeu in
such an important race.
"Yes; what's the matter! Don't you
want the mount F"
Sktmpsey tried to say something, but
failed dismally, and his freckled face
turned redder than ovur in his delight.
"it's tM) to ride, and t2G0 if you win,"
said Hinton; and Sklinpsey's mind revert
ed to the money In the savings bank, now
only short (MUO of the 16,000. .
"Mind, Ferrars," suid Mr. Melville, Maid
Marian's owner, "you're to ride to win.
Get well off and stay near the front till the
last turn, and then lot her out for all she
Is worth."
"Now's the time, Skimpaey,' added
Hinton, "to make a reputation for your
self. The mare's well In It at niuety-elght
pounds and ought to win. There are no
other lightweights free; that's how you
got the mount."
Skimpsey didn't care how it came about.
He only knew that lie was to ride Maid
Marian for the Seaside, to make fifty dol
lars anyway, and perhaps two hundred
and fifty. His blue eyes fairly dancer for
joy at the prospect. How bis tnt&her
would bless him If It could ouly put the
large sum into her hand!
The Seaside was third on the pro
gramme, and there was still another
race to be run off before it. Skimpsey
strolled over to where three or fonr stable
boya lay ou the grass dUcusslng the vari
ous topics of interest to themselves J
"Here comes bklmpHeyr cned one.?
"Hello, Skimpsey, ain't ridin today, I seel"
"Uoin to' said Skimpsey senteutlously.
: "WhHtmr
"Seaside." :
"What oof"
"Maid Marian"
"She's no good; you're not In it."
"Well, wait and seel" Atisw.'i-ed Skimp
sey. "Hinton says she's fit. and 1 guess
Hinton knowsl" I
"That's sol" said one of the boys, and i
the group dispersed to watch the race i
which was going on.
Meanwhile Maid Marian, a superb chest- ,
out filly, was being led around the sad
dling paddock, aud the second race having 1
been decided, Skimpsey, In Mr, Melville's :
colors, with bis Middle on his arm, made
bis way to the weighing room to be
weighed In. I
As be was leaving the place he felt a
hand laid upon his arm, and looking up be
recognised Cripps, the bookmaker.
"Hetlo, Skimpaey i" said tnat worthy
pleasantly, "I see you're goln to ride Maid
Marian,"
"yes."
"To winf"
"Yes."
"Well, Skimpaey, keep dark on this.
Yon like money, and you'll make some by
winning; but mind this, Skimpsey, it'll
fait me hard if yon do. You'll make a cool
thousand if you lose, understand?"
Yes, Skimpsey understood. He knew
too much about the race track and its
darker methods not to do so; but before he
could find a voice In which to reply, the
bookmaker had gone and the trumpet had
sounded to call the borses to the post.
Hinton, the trainer, gave Skimpaey a leg
up, and taking Lady Marian by the head
led her out to the track. "Remember,
Skimpsey," he said, "let her out early and
ride to wiu."
Skimpsey knotted the reins and sat as
proudly in the saddle as any knight enter
ing the lista. His freckled face was glow
lug aa red as his hair, and his blue eyes
shone with excitement. Then for an in
stant he remem tiered the words of the
bookmaker. A thousand dollars! More
than enough to make the coveted live thou
saudl He need not pttil the mare, only
keep her from shooting ber bolt at the'
tight moment. It would be set down to a
misconception of his orders, and that
would he the end of It. Ouly for a mo
ment, however, wits be tempted, and then
be scorned the idea. Putting the Maid
Muriun into a canter, that si uuous, grace
ful loe peculiar to thoroughbreds, he soon
ranged with the other horses at the start
ing post
After several unsuccessful attempts to
get the horses off, the Aug fell to a lieauti
ful start, Maid Marluu running easily at
third place. Duwu punt the grand stand
they came, the favorite, a big bay, still
leading and Maid Muriun third as before.
At the third post the Maid had moved up
to second place, and it was almost time for
her to make her coup. Skimpsey knew
this, but for an instant ugiiiuCripps' thou
sand dollars cume into his mind. For a
few seconds, that seemed hours to poor
Skimpsey, the temptutiou struggled with
his better nature. In that brief period he
thought of bis mother, the green coat, the
silver ohuin aud the beaver hat, and then
suddenly, when he hud fought down the
temp tut ion, he found It was too late to
send the Muid ahead according to orders.
For the favorite and another horse were
already two leugths ahead and contesting
almost neck aud neck for the victory. 1
Then Skimpsey's conscience Bmote him
with awful force, and he settled down into
the saddle to ride to rUe as he never rode
before, as never jockey rode before. He
felt that all his honor, the honor of his
name, which, bumble as it was, he had
worked so hard to recover, was at stake.
And so that little uluety pound hero, who
had conquered bin temptation, rode to wiu
the Beufiide stukes of Itt0. Hoping against
hote he pushed his noble mouut on; slow
ly, oh, so very slowlyl bo crept up to the
leaders. They hud passed the last furlong
post and were uearing the winning point,
and the Muid bad ouly managed to get her
nose abreast of the favorite's saddle girth.
OnemoresupremeefTortof the noble brute.
One more endeavor and an un uttered
pruyer from the lucky little rider, aud they
had passed the Judge's stand with Maid
Marian ahead by the barest of noses.
A mighty shout went up from the multi
tude, which died, however, instautly. For
Muid Marian had fallen a few strides from
the post. There was a cloud of dust as
the other borses passed, and when it arose
Muid Marian bud struggled to her feet and
galloped off, but Skimpsey Skimpsey with
his little hand tightly clutching his whip,,
and his face as white as death, lay Btill
aud quiet ou the dusty track. He had rid
deu his last race! ,
They took him up and bore him to his
cot in the boys' quarters. His heart was
still beating, and presently he opened his
blue eyes and looked up at the doctor who
wus looking after him.
"I won, didu't IP" he said feebly.
"Yes, yea, my boyl but" and the doctor
hesitated, dreading to tell him the truth.
"Oh, 1 know," said Skimpaey weakly,
"It's inside of me; I'm dyin," then he
fainted away for a minute from paiu.
Opening his eyes again, he breathed the
wonlst
"Toil Mr. Hinton to send the money to
mother, to say J was sorry 1 couldn't make
5,000, how sorry I am to leave her And
tell them," his voice sinking into a whis
per, "1 didn't pull the mare; I came near
It, but I won."
A ghost of a smile played about bis lips
as he whispered the words. Then the puin
again caused him to faint away.
"Now, Muid," he whispered hoarsely,
when he cume to again, "Now, Maid, nowl
nowl ahl"
. From across the track where the grand
stand stood came the sound of a distant
roar. The last race wus over, and the peo
ple hurried away from the track in the
truius, iu carriages aud on foot, all bound
for home. Standing about a humble cot
in the rude wooden quarters stood half a
dozen men with heads uncovered, rough
fellowsmostof them, but subdued lu the
awful presence of death. For Skimpsey,
too, bad left the track nnd gone Home.-
Koyal Butchers.
Prince Auguste of Coburg, the champion
chamois killer of the world, has killed 2,000
chamois. The emperor of Austria comes
next with a record of 1,809.
ATTORNEY GENERAL OLNEY.
He Finally ftnrriilred to the Importuni
ties of the Newspaper Men.
Attorney General Olney will long be re-(
mem bared as the one member of President
Cleveland's cabinet who was very back
ward In coming forward. Mr. Olney was
not only the last
man chosen for the
official family, but
he gave the gentle
men of the press
the liveliest strug
gle they have hod
for many moons in
. trying to penetrate
the veil of privacy
'mi which surrounded
RICHARD OLNEY,
h i s personality.
Mr. Olney wan par
ticularly averse to
the publication of
his portrait, and as
he bad not been
photographed for 50 years and would not ad
mit artists or reporters to his office or home
the editors were in a quandary. He Anally
waived his objections, however, and sat for
the portrait This picture incident is an
index to one side of the attorney general's
character. It shows that while he is a man
of very strong convictions be is still open
to argument. -,
Richard Olney is probably the best paid
lawyer in New England. He has practiced
at the Boston bar for over 80 years and lias
for some time been attorney for a number
of great railroad corporations, including
the Boston and Maine, the Chicago, Bur
lington and Quincy and the Atchison, To
peka and Santa Fe. This practice is said
to net him an income of $50,00( a year.
Mr. Olney luts never before held office, al
though he was once an unsuccessful candi
date for attorney general of Massachusetts.
He has always been a Democrat, and twice
declined to accept a place on the supreme
bench of Massachusetts. He la a warm
friend of General P. A. Collins, and this
friendship is supposed to have some influ
ence in his selection for attorney general,
although be has a summer home near Gray
Gables and has often met Mr. Cleveland at
Buzzard's Bay.
Mr. Olney descends from a lflghting"
Baptist family. His ancestor implanted
the ohnrch in America, and other ancestors
hewed their way through colonial wars. He
Is a quiet and studious man and has given
his time almost unceasingly to his profes
sion ever Bince be was admitted to the bar
and to law partnership with Judge Benja
min F. Thomas in 1859. He was born in
Oxford, Mass., Sept. 15, 1885, and was grad
uated from Brown university in the class of
xm,
Mr. Obey is married and has an elegant
residence on Commonwealth avenue in
Boston. Mrs. Olney is a lady of fine pres
ence and of unusual intellectual attain
ments. As she is a charmer entertainer,
she is regarded as a desirable addition to
the cabinet circle. Both daughters of the
Olueys pre married, and one is living in
Berlin. ,
Ttie new attorney general is a man of
striking figure. He is 6 feet tall and weighs
over 200 pounds. He Bpeaks with great
force and deliberation, and socially is a
charming companion. He is quiet and un
affected. He is something of a club man,
delights in his books and in works of art
and is a flue classical scholar.
IN SUSPENDED CARS.
A Kew Electric Bond Which Is to Make
Three Miles a Minute.
Preparations are now being made at Pas
saic, N. J., to test a novel invention, which,
It is claimed; will finally solve the rapid
transit problem. It was designed by Mr.
Alfred Spear and is an elevated electric
railroad running on a single track, from
THE SUSPENDED CAR.
which the cars are to be suspended so that
they run beneath instead of over the rail.
The cars are to be mode of basket work,
covered with light wood, and are not to
weigh over l.fiOO pounds each. They will
be pointed at both ends, so as to offer the
least possible resistance to atmospheric
pressure, and a speed of from two to three
miles a minute is said to be quite possible
lor them.
They will run on a single track road
elevated on iron columns. The crossbeams
on top of the posts wi II be about si x feet long,
sufficient to support two single rails, on
which cars will be suspended. The transit
on one of these rails will be in the direction
opposite to that on the other, and the cars
will be firmly held m place aud perfectly
secured against tipping or running off the
track by a grooved wheel, which Is to be
the motor.
Above the car there will be two separate
wheels uf from 5 to 8 feet in diameter, one
on each end of the ear, and beneath ou one
side of the car will be four guide wheels,
which will run on a continuous side rail
secured to the sides of the posts, thus p:
venting any swinging motion from rapidity
of transit or the wind. These guide rails
answer also for a conductor of the electric
current, the upper rail supplying the re
turn .current, a connection being made
through the motor attached to the car
wheels, thus forming the circuit.
An eudless oblong track is to be built in
the vicinity of Passaic to test the practica
bility of the new scheme. On it the car
can be run hundreds of miles without stop
ping aud be in sight all the time.
She Had Been Whipped Before, '
After being naughty, little Florence, two
years old, wus told she would have to be
punished. She ran to a largechair, climbed
hastily into it, seated herself firmly,
grasped each arm of the chair, and with a
look of mingled defiance and mischief,
suid, "Now you can't, mamma." New
Xork Tribune.
A Prolific Race.
The proportion of Hebrews in the popula
tion of England has more than doubled in
so yean without counting immigration,
81 AGE HEART DISEASE.
Row, a Leading Act rem Learned the
Symptoms or the Oread Malady,
It, Is not always easy to make one's ob
servations. I lememhertliat on one occa
sion 1 experienced considerabiedifficultyin
obtaining the subject I wished to study.'
:i was at tne tune tnat Messrs, hhooK it
Pfilmer were about to produce "Miss Mut
ton" at the Union Square theatre. Miss
M niton dies, but there is in the whole play
no word which indicates the nature of the
disease which causes, her death.
After due consultation, the" powers
decided that the lady should die of
heart disease; very simple matter so far
as the powers were concerned, but a yery
dimcult matter to me, who had the part to
play. I knew absolutely nothing of heart
disease, nor could I find a single friend or
acquaintance who could assist me.
I turned to the doctor, under whose care
i then was, and asked his help. After
some conversution he decided that angina
pectoris wus what I was looking for, as it
seemed to adapt itself perfectly to the re
quirements of the character I described to
him. He began by telling me something
of the structure of the heart. He showed
me some ugly pictures, too, that looked, to
my eyes, like sections of ripe tomatoes with
blue radishes growing through them. He
taught me where my heart was located,
and informed me that. In the ordinary
stage gesture, when the hand seeks the
heart, the aforesaid hand is something like
a foot away from the sought-for organ.
He minutely and repeatedly described to
me the attitude and expression of one en
during, in speechless, almost breathless,
agony, that awful torture called by doc
tors angina pectoris. This was to be used
for the climax of the play. So far we had
gone smoothly enough, but suddenly, to
use a theatrical expression, the doctor
stuck."
He declared his utter inability to convey
to me an idea of the manner in which a
patient breathes when suffering from ex
citement or fatigue. That was unfortu
nate, for it was on that symptom I most
relied to indicate to the audience what was
Miss Multou's physical condition, her elo
quent language making plain ber domestic
woes. 1 begged the doctor to show me how
I should breathe, but he shook his head
and said, "No, nol you must see a sub
ject." At his next visit I saw be was
vexed, and pretty soon he Informed me
that the only heart subject be had found
was a man bearded to the eves; but, said
be, while he savagely buttoned his coat,
"I'll find you a subject, or that man's
beard shall come off, for you must see that
movement of nostril and mouth."
Not more than two hours after there
was a violent ring at the bell, and, glanc
ing from the window and seeing the doc
tor's carriage, I hurried to the hail, and,
looking down, saw a very cruel thing.
The doctor aud a woman were standing at
the foot of the long, long staircase. Then
he caught her by the arm, and, starting
by her side, ran ber up the whole long
flight of stairs. Shall I ever forget that
woman's face as she stood swaying, cling
ing to the door frame! Her ghastly, waxen
puilor; the strained, scared look in her
eyes; the diluting nostrils; above ail, the
movement of the muscles about the mouth,
which contracted the upper tip at every
hurtling, gasping breathl
The doctor pushed by her and hastily
whispered, "You are a student and not
well enough to attend" I don't know
whether he said clues or lecture. I was
only sure of the word student. So, burn
ing with shame, I took my cue, and going
forward I felt her pulse and asked her a
few appropriate q uestions. We were alone
then for a few moments, aud she told me
her pitifully commonplace little story. 1
questioned ber closely as to how auger or
surprise affected her, and finding she was
very poor and had a child to care for, I
slipped a bill into her hand as she rose to
go.
She was thanking me quietly when her
eyes fell upon the figure on the bill. In
stantly over ber neck, ber face, her ears
there flamed a color so fiercly, hotly red
it seemed to scorch the skin. Her very
wrists where they were bared above ber
gloves, were red. Her hand flew to ber
side in the very gwsture thedoctor had been
teacliiug me. She gave a little laugh, and
nervously remarked: 'I I feel bo hot
aud prickly. I suppose I'm all red! You
see it was the surprise that did it!
Don't look so frightened, miss. I haven't
no puiu. , I ain't red, neither, am I, now?"
Heaven knows she was not. Her verX
lips were white. So, with thanks aud
pallid smiles, the poor soul removed her
self and her fell disease from my presence,
and l had received my second painful ob
ject lesson.
The night before the production of the
play, iu a spirit of mischief, I drew up a
document for the doctor to sign, in which
he acknowledged that in my study of heart
disease he had been my teacher. For, said
I, should the critics attack that part of my
work, you will then have to share the
blame. Laughingly I brought forth my
document. , Laughinglytie signed it.
The critics did not attack, but 1 still
keep the acknowledgment. Clara Morris
iu North American Review.
, jtfamet rarton'i nan j Lira,
James Parton would not do hasty
work. He was methodical, patient, reg
ular and persistent and- in time he had
become so able to .control his mind tint
it responded to his will like the body to
his mind. He did not tax himself to
work out great feat within a short time,
or if he was hard pressed he gave him
self rest as soon as the strain was over.
He did not; burn midnight oil, neither
did he resort td witieor tobacco as stim
ulants to his brain. He waB one of- the
most temperate men I have ever known.
He kept his faculties every day as near
as he Could, at their best, acid life flowed
en front day to day with an evenness and
quietness that made his home tifVhot
only pleasantJior pthersj, but beautiful in
itself. 'J -
His habits weT'to'breakfast about
half past 7, then to work in his garden
In the summer for an hoar, and thj?n to
shut himself in his workroom, where he
could be sure to be undisturbed until
half past 12. Then he dined, and after
that, in his later years, took a nap. Then
he was ready for callers or visits to
friendB, or for the reading which might
be required for the work of the next day.
After tea he was usually the companion
of his family, hearing his wife or niece
read aloud some book or magazine1, and
this was his daily round, nnless broken
m upon, month after month, year in and
year out He did not often go to Boston
or New York or seek a large number of
literary acquaintances, and yet he was
never unsocial. He was the light and.
life of two clubs in Newburyport, and he
was extremely fond of a good square
talk, in which he was fired np to ms ut
most. Rev. J. H. Ward in New Eng
land Magazine. .
Paper Belts,
One of the largest establishments In this
country hus for some time been turning
out paper belts that have the reputation of
being superior iu many respects to those
of leather. These belts are made frpm
pure linen stock, and are of any desired
thickness, width or length, having also a
driving power equal to any other of equal
surface, aud while it is not claimed for
them that they are adapted to all kinds of
work, they are found to serve well as
straight driving belt of not less than five
inches iu width.
Where they have been tested side by
side with leather belts for strength and
durability, they are alleged to have proved
equally satisfactory, adhering very closely
to the pulley, generating no electricity
while runuing, being also flexible and
unaffected by temperature within ordinary
limits, though there is one place in which
they canuot be used, and that is where
they have to run in water, or where they
would be constantly subjected to moisture.
It is admitted that this kind of belting is
best adapted to heavy driving belts, and
for this purpose it is not only much the
cheapest material, but when once in posi
tion will run until worn out. New York
Sun.
What Dog Stories Lack.
Presumably a wholly satisfactory dog
story has yet to, be written. It is qather
strange that so faithful, so beloved, a
friend and companion as the dog lias al
ways been to mankind should have so
little, comparatively, written about him.
When we come to consider that com
panionship and loyalty, we are compelled
to set it down as a remarkable piece of
ingratitude upon the part of man, not to
made his friend the dog more of a figure
in the literature of fiction. Mrs. Bar
bauld is said to have written the first dog
story. We have never seen it The
story of Rab is of course familiar to all.
Yet, however much of a classic it may
have come to be recognized, it is at best
fragmentary, and we must confess that
we do not share that enthusiasm which
is popularly expressed over it.
It can be taken for granted that no
body but a lover of the dog will write of
the dog. The fault that we have to find
with stories about dogs is their invari
able lack of tenderness. When the dog
comes to die, his biographer invariably
dismisses that event with a casual "Poor
old doggy! He has gone where good dog
gies go the good old doggies' heaven."
It is as if the biographer were ashamed
to speak what his heart prompts; as if
he were controlled by that same curious.
awkward, wicked sense of pride which
makes the simple fellow feign a snicker
or a Laugh during the progress of an emo
tional drama, at the very moment, too,
when a lump U in his throatand bis eyes
are brimful of tears. Chicago News-
Record, .
She Got a Seat.
A very pretty girl stepped into a crowd
ed car on the College avenue line. She
belonged in. the high school and wasn't
i i : . mi
in uuj uuun uf Niauujug up. iiiouai'wuo
full, buteverybody else had a seat. Seven
men held down the most available ones,
and, strange to relate, not one of them
appeared to be aware that a young wom
an was compelled to stand.
The pretty girl, with a quick glance of
disgust about the car, took in the situa
tion and blushed somewhat indignantly.
She had a long distance to ride and
couldn't cling gracefully to a strap. Two
squares had been traveled when an idea
took possession of her classical mind.
Out came the miniature purse from the
embroidered silk reticule, and the little
hands fumbled among a few silver coins.
A nickel dropped to the floor and rolled
to the far end of thp car. This iB part of
the plan, but it is executed dexterously,
and the passengers pity her. She blushed
and murmured, "How awkward of me,"
Unsteadily she started after the nickel,
but seven men intercepted the movement
and rushed to the point, as the artful
maiden dropped into & comfortable seat
with a sigh and deftly hid a roguish smile.
The 5-cent piece was tendered by a man
who assumed her place at the strap. She
tlanked him and looked all innocence.
Indianapolis Journal.
? The (Question of Food and Drink,
Fancy being confronted with the ques
tion, "What kind of food and drink do
yon prefer?" and only half of a rather
narrow page in which to inscribe the an
swer. How could one answer such a
question in such a space? for. one's ideas
as to food and drink vary so much with
the hours of the day. Morning, tea or
coffee very likely, with breakfast bacon
or kidneys or fried sole or plain boiled
eggs. But who wants boiled eggs aud
coffee at his luncheon? Then, again, dry
champagne is generally a favorite drink
at dinner, but we do not usually care for
it at luncheon, and late at night most
men have a preference for whisky and
soda and would not care in the least for
Pommery or Roederer. Then a man may
have a strong liking for oysters, and also
for olives, and how is he to get in all
his opinions on these various questions of
taste as to food and drink? Exchange.