FF?OIVl
POORHOUSE
BY MARY
CHAPTER X 1 1.- Continued.)
Here Jenny's remarks wore interrupt
ed by the loud rattling of wheel, and the
halloo of many voices. (Jolng to the
door, she (in.l Mary saw coming down
the roml at a furious rate the old hay
cart, laden with young people from Chic
opee, who hud beeu berrying In Stur
bridge aud were now returning home In
high glee. The horses were fantastically
trimmed with ferns aud evergreens, while
several of the girl were ornamented It)
the same way. Conspicuous among the
noisy group was Ella Campbell. Henry
Lincoln's broad-brimmed hat was rest
ing on her long curls, while her white
sun bonnet was tied under Henry's chin.
The moment Jenny appeared the whole
party set up a shout so deafening that
the Wblow Perkins came out in a trice
to see "if the Old Harry was to pay, or
what." No sooner did Henry Lincoln get
sight of Mary than springing to his feet,
anil swinging his arm around his head, he
screamed out: "Three cheers for the
schoolma'aiu and her handsome lover,
Hilly! Hurrah 1"
"Wasn't that smart?" said Jenny,
when at last the hay cart diaapeared
from view, and (lie noise and dust bad
somewhat subsided. Then as she saw
the tears In Mary's eyes she added, "Oh,
I wouldn't care if they did tease me about
Hilly Bender. Pd as lief be teased about
him as not."
"It isn't that," said Mary, smiling In
spite of herself, at Jenny's frankness. "It
isn't that. I didn't like to hear Ella sing
with your brother, when she must have
known he meant to annoy me."
"That certainly was wrong," returned
Jenny, "but Ella isn't so much to blame
as Henry, who seems to have acquired a
great influence over her during the few
weeks ho has been at home. You know
she is easily flattered, aud I dare say
Henry has fully gratified her vanity iu
that respect, for he gays she is the only
decent looking girl in Chicopee. But see,
there comes Mrs. Mason; I guess she
wonders what is keeping you so long."
The moment Mrs. Mason entered the
school room, Jenny commenced talking
about Mount Holyoke, her tongue run
ning so fast that it entirely prevented
anyone clue from speaking until she stop
ped for a moment to take breath. Then
Mrs. Mason very quietly remarked that
If Mary wished to go to Mount Holyoke
she could do so, Mury looked up Inquir
ingly, wondering what mine had opened
so suddenly at her feet; but she received
no explanation until Jenny had bidden
her good -by and gone. Then she learn
ed that Mrs. Mason bad just received one
hundred dollars from a man in Boston,
who had years before owed it to her hus
band, and was unable, to pay it sooner.
"And now," said Mrs. Mason, "there is
no reason why you should not go to
Mount Holyoke, if you wish to."
"Oh, what a forlorn-looking place!"
exclaimed Hose Lincoln, as from the win
dows of tho crowded vehicle in which
they had come from the cars Bhe first ob
tained a view of the not very haudsome
village of South Hadley.
Hose was in the worst of humors, for
by some mischance Mary was on the
same seat with herself, and consequently
she was very much distressed and crowd
ed. She, however, felt a little afraid of
Aunt Martha, who she saw was inclined
to favor the object of her wrath, so she
restrained her fault-finding spirit until
she arrived at South Hadley, where ev
erything came in for a share of her dis
pleasure. "That the seminary!" said she con
temptuously, as they drew up before the
building. "Why, it isn't half as large or
handsome as I supposed. Oh, horror! I
know I shan't stay here long."
'The furniture of the parlor was also
very offensive to the young lady, and
when Miss Lyon came in to meet them
she, too, was secretly styled "a prim,
fussy, slippery-tongued. old maid." Jenny,
however, who always saw the bright side
of everything, was completely charmed
with the sweet smile and placid face.
After some conversation between Miss
Lyon and Aunt Martha it was decided
that Hose and Jenny should room togeth
er, as a matter of course, and that Mary
should room with Ida. Hose had fully
intended to room with Ida herself, and
this decision made her very angry; but
there was no help for it, and she was 1
obliged to submit. I
And now in a few days life at Mount
Holyoke commenced In earnest. Although
perfectly healthy, Mary looked rather ,
delicate, and it was for this reason, per-
naps, tnat tne sweeping ana dusting of
several rooms were assigned to her, as
her portion of the labor. Ida and Hose
fared much worse, and were greatly
shocked when told that they both belong
ed to the wash circle!
"I declare," said Hose, "it's too bad.
I'll walk home before I'll do it;" and she
glanced at her white hands, to make sure
they were not already discolored by the
dreadful soapsuds!
Jenny was delighted with her allot
"ment, which was dish-washing.
"I'm glad I took a lesson at the poor
house years ago," said she one day to
Rose, who snappishly replied:
"I'd shut up about the poorhouse, or
they'll think you the pauper instead of
Madam Howard."
"Pauper? Who's a pauper?" asked
Lucy Downs, eager to hear so desirable
a piece of news.
Ida Selden's large black eyes rested
reprovingly upon Hose, who nodded to
ward Mary, and forthwith Miss Downs
departed with the information, which
was not long in reaching Mary's ears.
"Why, Mary, what's the matter?" ask
ed Ida, when, toward the close of the
day, she found her companion weeping
in her room. Without lifting her head
Mary replied, "It's foolish in me to cry,
I know, but why need I always be re
proached with having been a pauper? I
couldn't help It I promised mother I
would take care of little Allic as long as
she lived, and if she went to the poor
house I had to go too."
"And who was little Allie?" asked Ida,
taking Mary's hot hands between her
own.
Iu a few words Mary related her hls
tory omitting her acquaintance with
George Moreland, and commencing at the
night when her mother died. Ida was
warm-hearted and affectionate, and cared
but little whether one were rich or poor
if she liked them. Prom the first she had
been interested in Mary, and now wind
ing her arms about her neck, and kissing
away her tears, she promised to love her,
and to be to her as true and faithful a
friend as Jenny. This promise, which
whs never broken, was of great benefit to
Mary, drawing to her side many of the
best girls in school, who soon learned
W love her for herself, and not because
to PALAC
J. HOLMES
the wealthy Miss Seldeo seemed 10 fond
of her.
Soon after Mary went to Mount Hol
yoke she had received a letter from Billy,
in which be expressed his pleasure that
she was at school, but added that the
fact of her being there Interfered great
ly with his plan of educating her him
self. "Mother's ill health," aaid he, "pre
vented me from doiiig anything until now,
ami just as I am In a fair way to accom
plish my object someone else has stepped
in before me. Hut It la all right, and as
yon do not aeem to need my services at
present I shall next week leave Mr. Sei
dell's employment, and go Into Mr. Wor
tlilngtou's law office ai clerk, hoping that
when the proper time arrives I shall not
be defeated in another plan which was
formed iu boyhood, and which has become
the great object of my life."
Mary felt perplexed and troubled.
Billy's letters of late had been more like
those of a lover than a brother, and ahe
could not help guessing the nature of
"the plan formed In boyhood." She knew
she should never love him except with a
sister's love, and though she could not
tell him ao her next letter lacked the tone
of affection with which she was accus
tomed to write, and was on the whole a
rather formal affair. Billy, who readily
perceived the change, attributed It to the
right cause, and from that time his let
ters became far less cheerful than usual.
Mary usually cried over them, wishing
more than once that Billy would trans
fer his affection from herself to Jenny,
and it was for this reason, perhaps, that
without stopping to consider the propri
ety of the matter, she first asked Jenny
to write to him, and then encouraged her
in answering his notes, which became
gradually longer and longer, until at last
his letters were addressed to Jenny, while
the notes they contained were directed to
Mary!
CHAPTER XIII.
Rapidly the days passed on at Mount
Holyoke. Autumn faded Into winter,
whose Icy breath floated for a time over
the mountain tops, and then melted away
at the approach of spring, which, with
its swelling buds and early flowers, gave
way in its turn to the long bright days of
summer. And now only a few weeks re
mained ere the annual examination at
which Ida was to be graduated.
Neither Hose nor Jenny were to return
the next year, and nothing but Mr. Lin
coln's firmness and good" sense had pre
vented their being sent for when their
mother first huard that they had failed
to enter the middle class. Mrs. Lincoln's
mortification was undoubtedly greatly in
creased from the fact that the despised
Mary had entered in advance of her
daughters. "Things are coming to a pret
ty pass," said she. "Yes, a pretty pass;
hut I might have known better than to
send my children to such a school."
She insisted upon sending for Rose
and Jenny, but Mr. Lincoln promptly re
plied that they should not come home.
Still, as Hose seemed discontented, com
plaining that so much exercise made her
side and shoulder ache, and as Jenny
did not wish to remain another year un
lcss Mary did, he consented that they
should leave school at the close of the
term, on condition that they went some
where else.
"I shall never make anything of Hen
ry," said he, "but my daughters shall
receive every advantage, anderhaps one
or the other of them will comfort my old
age."
He had spoken truly with regard to
Henry, who was studying, or pretending
to study, law iu the same office with Billy
Bender. But his father heard no favor
able accounts of him, and from time to
time large bills were presented. So it
is no wonder the disappointed father
sighed, and turned to his daughters for
the comfort his only son refused to give.
For the examination at Mount Holyoke
great preparations were being made.
Hose, knowing she was not to return,
seemed to think all further effort on her
part unnecessary; and numerous were the
reprimands, to say nothing of the black
marks which she received. Jenny, on tho
contrary, said she wished to retrieve her
reputation for laziness, and leave behind
a good Impression. So, never before In
jier whole life had she behaved so well,
or studied as hard as she did during the
last few weeks of her stay at Mount Hol
yoke. Ida, who was expecting her fath
er, aunt and cousin to be present at the
anniversary, was so engrossed with ber
studies that she did uot observe how
sad and low-spirited Mary seemed. She
had tasted of knowledge and dow thirst
ed for more; but it could not be; the
funds were exhausted, aud she must leave
the school, never perhaps to return again.
"How much I shall miss my music, and
how much I shall miss you," she said one
day to Ida, who was giving her a lesson.
"It's too bad you haven't a piano," re
turned Ida, "you are so fond of it, and
improve so fast!" Then after a moment,
she added, "I have a plan to propose, and
may as well do it now as at any time.
Next winter you must spend with me In
Boston. Aunt Martha and I arranged it
the last time I was at home, and we even
selected your room, which is next to
mine, and opposite to Aunt Martha's.
Now, what does your ladyship say to it?"
"She says she can't go," answered
Mary.
"Can't go!" repeated Ida. "Why not?
Jenny will be in the city, and you are
always happy where she is; besides, you
will have a rare chance for taking music
lessona of our best teachers; and then,
too, you will be in tb( same house with
George, and that alone is worth going to
Boston for, I thiuk."
Ida little suspected that her last argu
ment was the strongest objection to
Mary's going, for, much as she wished
to meet George again, she felt that she
would not on any account go to his home,
lest he should think she came on pur
pose to see him. There were other rea
sons, too, why she did not wish to go.
Henry and Hose Lincoln would both be
iu the city, and she knew that neither
of them would scruple to do or say any
thing which they thought would annoy
her. Mrs. Mason, too, missed her, and
longed to have her at home; so she resist
ed all Ida's entreaties, and the next let
ter which went to Aunt Martha carried
her refusal.
In a day or two Mary received two let
ters, one from Billy and one from Mrs.
Mason, the latter of which contained
money for the payment of her bills; but,
on offering it to the principal, how was
she surprised to learn that her bills had
not only been regularly paid and receipt
ed, but that ample funds were provided
for the defraying of her expenses during
the coming year. A faint sickness stole
over Mary, for she instantly thought of
Billy Bender, and the ' obligation she
would now be under to him forever. Then
it occurred to her how impossible it was
that he ihotild have earned so much In
ao short a time; and as soon as she could
trust her voice to speak, she asked who
it was that had thus befriended her.
The precep'ress was not at liberty to
tell, and with a secret suspicion of Aunt
Martha, Mary returned to her room to
read the other letter, which was still un
opened. Her bead grew di.xy, anil her
spirits faint, as she read the passionate
outpouring of a heart which bad cherish
ed ber linage for yeurs, aud which,
though fearful of rejection, would Mill
tell her how much she was beloved. "It
Is no sudden fancy," said he. "Once,
Mary, I believed my afTectiou for you
returned, but now you are changed. Your
letters are brief and cold, and when I
look around for the cause I am led to
fear that I was deceived iu thinking you
ever loved me. If I am mistaken, tell
me ao; but If I am not. if you can never
be my wife, I will school myself to think
of you as a brother would thiuk of an
only and darling sister."
For several days Mary had not been
well, and the excitement produced by
Billy's letter tended to increase her ill
ness. During the hours in which she was
alone that day she had ample time for
reflection, and before uight she wrote a
letter to Billy, iu which she told him bow
Impossible it was for her to be the wife
of one whom she had always loved as an
own and dear brother. This letter caused
Mary so much effort, and so many bitter
tears, that for several days she continued
worse, and at last gave up all hope of be
ing present at the examination. :
"Oh, It's too bad!" said Ida, "for 1 do
want you to see Cousin George, and I
know he'll be disappoiuted, too. for I
never saw anything like the Interest be
takes in you." !
A few days afterward, as Mary wai
lying thinking of Billy, aud wouderiug if ,
she bad done right in writing to him as
she did, Jenny came rushing iu, wild
with delight.
Her father was downstairs, together
with Ida's father. George and Aunt Mar
tha. "Most the first thiug I did." said
the, "was to inquire after Billy Bender!
guess Aunt Martha was shocked, for
she looked so queer. George laughed,
and Mr. Selden said he was doing well,
and was one of the finest young men iu
Boston."
During the whole of George's stay at
Mount Holyoke Hose managed to keep
him at her side, entertaining him ocea
sionally with unkind remarks concerning
Mary, who, she. said, was undoubtedly
feigning her sickness so as uot to appear
iu hor classes where she knew she could
do herself no credit; "but," said she, "as
soon as the examination is over she'll get
well fast enoiiu'h and bother us with her
company at Chicopee."
Iu this Hose was mistaken, for when
the exercises closed Mary was still too ill
to ride, and it was decided that she
should remain a few days until Mrs. Ma
son could come for her. With many tears
Ida and Jenny bade their young friend
good-by, but Hose, when asked to go up
and see her, turned away disdainfully,
amusing herself during their absence by
talking and laughing with George More
land. The room in. which Mary lay command
ed a view of the yard and gateway; aud
fter Aunt Murtha, Ida and Jenny had
left, she arose, and stealing to the win
dow, looked out upon tne company as
they departed. She could readily divine
which was George Moreland, for Hose
Lincoln's shawl and satchel were thrown
over his arm, while Hose herself walked
close to his elbow, apparently engrossing
his whole attention. Ouce he turned
around, but fearful of being observed,
Mary drew back behind the window cur
tain, and thus lost a view of his face.
(To be continued.)
Vegetable Characteristics.
Certain plants are boheiniitii, nour
ishing themselves from day to day
without care for the morrow.
Others, on the contrary, are pro
foundly selfish or provident but for
themselves, without occupying them
selves with their neighbors. Such Is,
above all, the case with the potato,
which, so long as It la living, not only
takes the food and water necessary tQ
its dally nourishment, but makes
strong provision, storing like the nut
Its nourishment for winter in Its tuber
cles. So when It has lost Its green
leaves, when Its stein Is dry, It can
sleep In peaceful hope of renewed
spring, Its capital Is put to one side
ready to give new dividends at the
general assembly of plants the follow
ing year. But It works for itself alone.
On the contrary, the bean Is a plant
devoted to her children. Knowing that
she is soou going to die, she hurries
to give her children the nourishment
which it will be Impossible for her to
give later. She surrounds them with
a sort of pocket of nourishment, which
will permit them, when they are sep
arated from her by wind or by death,
to find their own existence. This clas
sification of plants into bohemiuns and
selfish and unselfish is worthy of being
remarked.
Zulus of the Railroads.
"Do you know what a Zulu is?" said
an old railroad man. The traveling man
who was waiting for his train smiled
In a way that was meant to Indicate
he knew all the suedes of Zulus Hint
ever existed, and told the railroad man
about the Africans, called Zulus, who
maintained that continent's reputation
for fighting before the Boers stepped
In.
Little was doing in the railroad
man's line just then, so be listened.
"Well, they may be Zulus all rigiil
enough," he remarked, "but they art
ndt the sort of Zulus that travel ou
railroads. There Is the kind that runs
Into these yards," and he pointed down
the track, where a box car stood.
A stone pipe protruded tnrough a
hole In the door. The pipe was at au
angle of about 33 degrees. A cloud
of smoke was coming from It. Four
blooded horses and a man were the oc
cupants of that. The man was the
Zulu. Taking care of valuable stock
en route from oue market to anotliet
was his business. He was a type of a
elasa that railroad men on every line
haev named the Zulus, They fit up the
center of the cars for a sort of living
room, and there in the midst of their
animals live as happily as the road's
president who passes them In bis pri
vate car. Chicago Inter Ocean.
A Promising Yonns Financier.
Little Isaac, who was barely G years
old, was paid by his mother a penny
per dozen for pins picked up from the
carpet to keep the baby frora getting
them.
"Nurse," said little Isaac, as his stock
of pennies increased, "do you know
what I am going to do when I have 10
cents?"
"No," answered the nurse.
"i am going to buy a paper of pins
and scatter them all over the floor, and
then pick thenl up," replied the young
financier. Jewish World.
X-RAY3 APPLIED TO
THE FOURTH.
Hall to "America, land of the free!"
Holding her honors on laud and ou sea!
Heaping her victories, kindly and true.
All Iu the nauie of "The Bed, White and
Blue!"
Hail to the spirit of justice and truth
Iloru In Amrrlftt's spirited youth!
Hall to her enterprise, courane and skllll
Hall to her upright persistence and will!
Hall to ber loyalty! Hall to her brave,
Determined endeavors her dear States to
save
When danger axsalls them! and hall with
a cheer
Her glorious old banner her sons bold so
dear!
Hall to our "National Holiday!" Hail!
For never In hearts shall Its Joyousness fslll
Hall to Its ailveut, and even lis noise,
Since It stirs In the hearts of our g rls and
our hoys
A bold, sturdy nverence, never to die
While America's flag waves, for Fourth of
July!
-Mary D. Brine, In Christian Work.
The boys had planned such a particu
larly jolly Fourth that when Mrs. Rey
nolds became bd 111 on the very morning
of the 3d and the doctor sternly announc
ed if a firecracker exploded within a
mile of the house the boy who shot it off
would be guilty of murder there was
wrathful indignation in the breasts of
the tunior patriots.
"Say, fellows, what do you think of it
anyway?" demanded Ned Thursby in a
tone of fierce display.
"Think of it!" exclaimed Sam Tren
tice, shaking his fist at the cloud of dust
which enveloped the doctor's antiquated
gig. "I think it's a mean shame."
"YA hat are we going to do with our
firecrackers. Pd like to know," Will
Brown asked angrily, "and the gkyrock
ets and Roman candles and tho cannon?"
"Plague take It, anyway," scowled Jack
Loring, hitting the tree against which
he was leaning a blow with his clinekct
hand. "We might just as well have
stayed In the city
"I tell you what, fellows," interrupted
Ned. "I wouldn't mind so much spoiling
the Fourth if it was only Mrs. Sawyer,
or any of our mothers, or Miss Hattie
or Miss Isabel, but every kid knows what
Mrs. Reynolds is. I don't believe she's
sick at all.
"Nor I," added Jack Impressively.
"She's just done it to keep us from hav
ing a good time. Don't you remember
last summer how she spoilt the yacht
race bv tumbling Into the river aud
splashing the sails?"
"I wish your Uncle George was here
now. He'd tell us what to do, for I don't
thiuk that other George, the father of
his country, enres the least bit that his
little boys can't have rockets and fire
crackers," nuii Will lay down upon the
grass and pounded the soft turf with hia
vigorous heels,
"Of course he doesn't," agreed Sam
mournfully, "or he wouldn't have let it
hnnnen. I think he's a mighty mean
father, that's what I think."
"Oh. nerhans it's'beeause he's been a
man for such years and years that he's
forgotten all about chopping the cherry
tree and being a little boy himself," ex
plained Ned magnanimously.
"I say, fellows," .lack began excitedly.
"I bet rou George Washington will help
us yet. Isn't he the father of his coun
try and wouldn't my father or Ned's fath
er or any of onr fathers hate to have us
lose a good timer 1 tell you, Ueorge
Washington cares as much about it as
they do, and I'm going to write to hiin
and tell him that we can't shoot off any
firecrackers or cannons or rockets or tor
pedoes or do anything at all to give him
a rousing send-off, just because an old
woman says she's dying."
"I don't" believe George Washington
cares anything about us," Sam interpos
ed gruflly.
"I don't believe he does, either," sup
plemented Will.
"Well," said Jack, "I intend to write
him a regular letter aud tell him just
how it is. I thought I'd say that we
came all the way from Chicago to shoot
off a cannon for him on the Fourth of
July, and didn't he feel sorry we couldn't
do it, because Mrs. Reynolds went and
got sick at the last moment and tho doc
tor said we'd be hanged if we did. And
then I'd say HJood-by, from your sorrow
ful little bovs, Jack and Ned and Sam
and Will."'
"Even if we did write to him, low
could we send it, Pd like to know?" ask
ed Sam.
The question was a bombshell. It stag
gered Jack.
"I don't know," he answered blankly.
"I never thought about it, but, say! I
have it. We'll tack the letter on the
cherry tree in the back yard, and when
he comes around at night to cut it down
with his little hatchet he'll find it and
read it and "
"How do you know he'll come arouud
to cut it down?" interrupted Will.
"How do I know It? Because every
Fourth of July he's a little boy again,
you ninny, and, of course, he'll want to
use his little hatchet. Hurrah for Gesrge
Washington!" and the enthusiastic
spokesman tumbled off the fence in his
efforts to wake the country echoes.
Four pairs of sturdy legs dashed along
the road with lightning speed and noth
ing remained of the morning's conclave
but a battered rail and a cloud of dust.
The blotted paper tacked so conspicuously
KT.T. IV"-: ':i "-'' I
4 p-m , .
, A S hMMmM-.
THE FIRECRACKER.
thetically comic to the belated traveler
who discovered it while enjoying the soli
tude of the garden.
"Poor little chaps," he laughed, "their
mothers needn't have feared for their
eyes and their fingers, after all. Con
found Mrs. Reynolds, It's Just as they
say. 'She's never sick on Sunday, when
little hoys don't mind not shooting off
cannons.'
"I guess George will have to come to
the rescue after all if he Isn't 'the father
of his country.' But what the dickens
can we do that won't make a noise? I
guess I'd better consult Miss Hattie,"
and the belated traveler left the blotted
paper on the table, where he had carried
it to examine its contents by aid of the
solitary lamp burning in the farm house.
Tho small head peeping out of the
farm house window at an early hour the
following morning raised a shout that
awakened instantly the three remaining
occupants of the tiny dormitory.
"Hurrah for George Washington! What
did I tell you fellows? There's the an
swer, by jingo!" and Jack pounded the
floor rapturously with his bare feet.
There was a rush from three small beds
and a scamper to the window. A square
white patch conspicuously sealed wiih
scarlet wax adorned the cherry tree In
place of the larger sheet the boys had
left fluttering iu the moonlight.
"Let's hurry up, kids, and see who'll
get dressed the first," and Ned's order
was instantly obeyed. Ten minutes later
four heads bent eagerly over the old
fashioned writing.
"My Dear Boys: I was just going to
chop away at your cherry tree and, in
fact, had given it a single whack, which
hadn't amounted to much, as the blade is
rather rusty, when I discovered your let
ter tacked to the bark, and I said to my
self: 'George, you must not touch this
cherry tree with your little hatchet, for,
behold, It has turned over a new leaf.'
So I laid aside my rusty steel and un
tacked the tack which bound it to the
bark and, behold, your misery lay un
folded. "I've had my own siege with women,
boys, for the 'father of his country' em
braces all classes, but IVe learned my
lesson that the widow must ever go her
own way. So we'll allow the doctor to
manage Mrs. Reynolds and you and I will
have our Fourth- Of July in the woo ls
along the edge of the river.
"Leave the cannon behind and the fire
crackers and rockets, for we'll celebrate
in spite of them, as you'll see how if you
arrive at the minute of 11 bv the sun
"To Ned, Sam, Will and Jack,
"From the Father of His Country,
"O. Washington."
"Do you think he really means it?"
asked Jack, breathlessly.
"Course he does," replied Ned, indig
nantly, gasping with nervous astonish
ment. "Didn't you know the father of
his country couldn't tell a lie?"
Four frightened lads sitting on a fallen
tree at the edge of the river jumped hur
riedly to their feet aud bowed nervously
to the stately personage descending the
bank dressed in the buff and blue uni
form, with bis white hair tied In a queue.
"Good morning, hoys," said a strangely
familiar voice, "you're true to the min
ute, I see. I'm afraid I'm a little late
myself, however. I was delayed a trifle,
hoping to iuduce Martha to come with
me," and the father of his country peer
ed through the trees as if to see if she
had changed her mind.
"Martha is my wife, you know," the
figure continued smilingly. "Martha
Washington, the mother of her country.
She knows you all very well."
The four lads looked at each other in
amazement. Ned cleared his throat very
hard and gased at his boots, but at a
nudge from Jack whispered weakly:
"Does she know our names, father of
your country?"
"Oh, yea, and so do I. You're Ned
and the tall boy Is Jack, and Sam Is the
smnllest, though he's not very small, and
Will is the other one who was going to
shoot off the cannon in my honor. Too
bad about that, wasn't it? But rome np
nnder tho trees where It is shady until we
get acquainted with each other."
Washington threw himself down on the
grass and leaned his white head against
a huge trunk.
"Iet me see," consulting hia watch, "It
Is just five minutes of 12, so we'd better
start the balloon."
"Oh, are we really going to have a bal
loon?" asked Ned excitedly.
"Well, you sec," answered Washing
ton, "I thought that cannon had to be
replaced somehow, aud as we couldn't
make any noise I wanted something lo
my honor and ao I decided on a balloon.
They both end In smoke anyway. There
It is," he added, dragging the huge paper
structure from behind a tree. "Isn't it
a beauty? Now each boy take oue side
of It while I get it lighted."
There was no more formality In the
little company. The lads laughed aloud
in glee and when the fuse caught fire and
the tissue globe slowly sailed away over
the river each small voice added Its share
to the refrain started by the general,
"Three cheers for the red, white and
blue."
"There!" exclaimed Father George with
satisfaction. "Now I feel duly honored
and at tha same time hunger for more.
Somewhere in these woods, boys, Martha
has spread a lunch for us, an, I a 1 tenet
to the first fellow who finds It." There
was a general scamper through the trees,
quickly followed by a triumphant shout
from Ned aud Sam, who had approached
the dainty feast from opposite sidea. A
snowy tablecloth was spread upon the
ground and held In place by glistening
pebbles, while on it was laid every pic
nic delicacy that could delight the heart
of the small boy.
"Hurrah!" shouted Ned; "we've found
It."
"True for you," answered the general,
appearing through the opening. "But
Martha herself haa left us, I see. The
dear girl is rather nervous on the Fourth.
Eat what you like, fellows. Every man
Is his own master."
They needed no more urgent Invitation
and soou made sad havoc in the pretty
table arrangements. George Washing
ton was no longer a formidable myth,
but a flesh and blood personage, as real
as they. When luncheon was finally de -
molished they lay down under the trees
anil listened to thrilling tales of mad
wolves and encounters with the Indiana
and the sufferings of the ragged conti
nentals in winter quarters at Valley
Forge.
Toward the close of the afternoon
George caught a horse that was wander
ing at will through the woods and, jump
ing on his back, dashed impetuously
down the rustic steps leading to an aban
doned cave, to exhibit practically the
escape of Mad Anthony Wayne.
"That's how he did it, boys," exclaim
ed the general, slowly mounting again.
"He Just brandished his sword aloft and
none of the British dared follow. I must
leave you now," he added, "for I prom
ised Martha to return at 6. Have you
had a good Fourth?"
"The best I've ever spent," shouted
Ned emphatically.
"Me, too," chimed In Will, Sam and
Jack.
"What, without fireworks?" queried
the general, Incredulously.
"I've learned more patriotism," an
swered Ned, "than I've ever learned with
a whole box of firecrackers."
"Good!" exclaimed the general, "that's
the right sort of a Fourth of July. Wait
a minute and I'll row you to the edge of
the farm. I have a boat down the stream
and we'll call our trip 'Washington cross
ing the Delaware.'"
He hurried away and soon returned
with a light skiff, which he propelled
cleverly toward the bank.
"Jump In, boys, and away we go. Now
sing for all you're worth. Mrs. Reynolds
can't mind music.
And the star-spangled banner in triumph
shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of
the brave.
"Good-by, boys," he added, giving his
hand to each in turn at the farm landing.
"Watch for me next Fourth of July
around the cherry tree." And the brave
general rowed away in the sunlight to the
echoes of
"Three cheers for George Washington,
the father of his country first In peace,
first In war and first in the hearts of
his little boys."
"Why, Uncle George," exclaimed Ned'
In astonishment as the 'four lad, entered ,
the supper room an hour later, "I thought ,
you weren't coming till next week."
"Is that why you spent the ourtn
away from the house, yon rascal? What
have you been doing, I'd like to know?"
Ned looked at Jack and Jack looked at
his feet. Then he turned to Sam and
Sam asked loudly for butter, while Will
was closely occupied In studying old
china. Seeing no help at hand Ned
coughed bashfully and muttered quickly:
"We've been in the woods."
"Had any fireworks?" continued Uncle
George mercilessly.
"No," was the laconic reply.
"Much fun?" supplemented Uncle
George.
"Not much."
A short silence was broken by Miss
Hattie's desultory remark:
"The hero's way is as hard as the
transgressor's."
The Koclety Lunch Counter.
"I wonder what makes that homely
Claire Jones so popular?"
"Oh, she runs a Welsh-rabbltry."
"Do you use any Octlou Iu your pa
per?" "Well, we publish the weather
Indications." Town Topics.
Some publisher Is mlsKlng a golden
opH)rtuulty Iu neglecting to brlug out
"The Ixve letters of Brlgham Vouug."
-Ex.
"Why are the feelers of a butterfly
like the seeds In a California orange?"
"Give It up." "Because they're an
tennae." Ex.
Was Oue: Mrs. Einpeck-You acted
like a fool when you proposed to r;e.
Empeck-Tbat wasn't acting, my dear.
Town and Country.
Charles Loveday Uni, nh. Er. er
er! Er ! he! he!" Jeweler (to his
assistant) Bring that tray of engagement-rings
here, Henry. Tit Bits.
Frd-I had a fall last night which
rendered me unconscious for several
hours. Ed You don't mean It? Whew
did you fall? Fred -I fell asleep.-Tlt-Blta.
Molly-My little sister's got the
measles. Jlmmle Oh! So has mine.
Molly-Well. I'll bet you my little sis
ter's got more measles thau yours has.
-Tlt-Blts.
"What Is the difference between tho
cannibals aud Mark Twain?" "The
cannibals enjoy cold missionary, while
Mark Twain likes the missionaries
hot."-Llfe.
On Board Ship: "Can I bring you up
some luuebeou, sir?" "What! Lunch
already? Why, It doesn't seem more
than fifteen minutes since breakfast
catno up!" Life.
How She Proves It: "Maggie says
she's a Daughter of the Revolution."
"Can she prove It?" "Sure. Her fath
er runs a merry-go round." Philadel
phia Evening Bulletin.
Right Up In Line: "Same old prcscn-
tatlon of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' I sup-
jpose?" "Not much; we've worked In
an automobile collision and plantation
rummage sale." Detroit Free Press.
Not an Asylum:, Visitor It must te
very convenient to have au asylum
right In the heart of four city. New
York Policeman Asylum! That Is the
Stock Exchange. Ohio State Journal.
Strong-willed: Kind Lady-It must
be hard to get along without working?
Tramp-Indeed It Is, ma'am; yet have
no Idea how strong do tem'tallon ter
go to work Is, sometimes. Brooklyn
Life.
Twofold: Sniffs-There is more sin
In Chicago than any other city on the
face of the earth. Snuffs I beg leave
to differ. Sniffs I defy you to name
another with more sin in It!" Snuffs
Clnclnnatl.-Ex.
Distingue: "She comes of a grand
old family, I believe?" "Yes, very! An
ancestor of hers was Ixdiendcd In the
Tower during the reign of the fourth
Edward!" "How perfectly lovely!"
Detroit Journal.
"How much does a member of the
Legislature get In this State?" Inquired
the tourist. "Ills salary," answered
Farmer Corntossel. "Is three dollars a
day. Nobody knows bow much he
gets." Washington Star.
Suited to a Tee: Fox (to bear)
Come over to-morrow, and we'll play a
game of golf on the links. Bear All
right. I don't know what the game Is.
but If there's any Job you can put up
on the lynx I'm in with you. Boston
Herald.
His Training: "How did Spudkln
get his appolutment as Brigadier-General?
I never knew that he was con
nected with the army?" "Oh, yes, by
marriage; his brother-in-law ' Is a
United States Senator." Town and
Country.
A Great Preface: Publisher 1 fear
your book Is too nhort; it consists of
only forty pages. Author Oh, I ex
plain all that In the preface. Publisher
What length is it? Author Five bun-
"." b,;:T',Jr
d ""-Columbus (Ohio) State
Journal-
Teacher Now, Tommy, suppose you
had two apples, and you gave another
boy his choice of them, you would tell
him to take the 'bigger oue, wouldn't
you? Tommy No, mum. Teacher
Why? Tommy 'Cos wouldn't be nec
essary. Tit-Bits.
Their Favorite Diet: "The bulls aud
bears In Wall street are all carnivorous
animals," remarked the horse editor to
the snake editor. "Indeed?" "Yes;
they are fond of spring lamb with
United States mint sauce." Pittsburg .
Chronicle-Telegraph.
Mrs. Innocence (fludlng poker-chips
In her husband's pockets) Dear me!
Isn't George too thoughtful for any
thing! I told ill m to buy something to
amuse the baby, and here be has
brought home these pretty colored
disks. Philadelphia Record.
A Philosopher: WlfeAThore's ..ft
burglar down cellar, Henry. Husband
Well, my dear, we ought to be thank
ful that we are upstairs. Wife But
he'll come up here. Husband Then
we'll go down eellar, my dear. Surely,
a ten-room house ought to be big
enough to hold three people without
crowding. Detroit Free Press.
The Bliss of Ignorance: Nagger
Did you see the President about your
appointment when you were In Wash
ington? Noodleman No, but I saw
his Secretary. He told me that the
President had remarked when the mat
ter of my appointment came up that
I was 'persona non grata.' Nagger
And what does that mean? Noodlemnu
Why, It's Latin for 'no person great
er.' Rather high praise, coming from ,
a man of his distinction, eh? Rich
mond Dispatch.
Body Shorter at Night.
The human body, It has been found,
Is shorter at night than In the morning,
due to the weight of the body com
pressing the Intervertebral cartilages.
During sleep, or while In a recumbent
position, tbe pressure being removed,
their natural elasticity enables them
to resume their normal size, conse
quently the height of an Individual will
vary from three-eighths to half an Inch
between mornlng.and night.
A woman's sympathies are arouse 1
when any one else on earth gels sick.
I except her dressmaker.
to the bark of the cherry tree was pa