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