'14. a! P-“"".‘r'r.' m—a-«s nnmn_-..—,-.-.,—,.....
H E R E! ES.
From her eyes the ’prisoned sunbeaml.
Shining bright,
Send their message to the dark soul,
Through the night.
Till the encircling gloom is pierced.
And there is light . ‘ .. .
But within the deep recesses ,
Of those eyes. \ " ‘ ,1
Beyond the sunbeams' realm.
A shadow lies.
To loving ones a sad
Yet sweet surprise. us
For sympathy is deepest
Where the pain
Has passed from soul to soul.
And back again:
‘The comfort like the sunlight
' After rain—
As underlies the sweetest song ~-
The saddest strain.
—0. Lewerenz. in Detroit Free Press
ONLY , A PAIR OF FOOLS.
BY 1’. M’ARTHUR.
May was waiting for her aflianced
lover to call. As might be expected,
she was looking her best, and her best
was very good, indeed. She was wear-
ing the dress she knew he liked, and
her hair was made up as she knew he
loved to see it—in soft folds on the
sides and gathered into a loose knot at
the back. '
Though there was much about her
petite figure and bright face that sug-
gested sauciness, it was quite evident
there was at least one person in'the
world for whose sake she was willing
to subdue her teasing disposition.
Fred was really not late; but as she
happened to be ready to greet him be-
fore the appointed hour she was just
as impatient as if it were long past. As
she could not spend all her time look-
ing in the mirror over the mantel to
see if her hair was just right and all
her ribbons in place, or in. admiring
her diamond engagement ring, she
finally picked' up the morning paper
and began to read. After scanning
the millinery advertisements . she
searched till she found the “Wit and
Wisdom" column. She then curled
herself in a capacious easy chair and
prepared to pass the time as pleasantly
as possible.
Now it sometimes happens that news-
paper humorists are exceedingly wise
young men who frequently 'give utter-
ance to marvelous maxims. As May
read dewn the column, laughing at the
jokes and from time to time exclaim-
ing against her lover’s tardiness, her
eye was arrested bya notable bit'of
wisdom. It read as follows:
“No girl buta fod'l would marrya
man whom she has never seen en-
raged."
“How absurd," she exclaimed. “What
good would it do to see him enraged?
It would only make him say disagree-
able things."
Then she mused awhile. “Well,"
she thought, “perhaps it would be bet-
ter to know before one is married
than after what disagreeable things a
man can say. I am not going to en-
rage Fred for any such foolish reason;
but, perhaps, it would beygood fun to
tease him a little. What can 1 do? I
couldn't enrage him very well without
flirting, and I am not going to do that.
Iknowl He always says a girl with
beautiful hair can make herself look
more hideous by doing it up untaste-
. fully than in any other way—and he
hates to see mine made up in a knot
on top of my head. I'll just make it
up that way and see how he will act.
It will annoy him so that I can tease
him just a little and then make up
friends. He deserves a littlepunish-
ment. anyway, for it is almost five
minutes past eight o’clock."
She hurried away to her room to
make the change just as Fred rang the
doorbell. He was admitted by the
servant and was surprised not to find
May prepared to greet him, but went
into the parlor to wait. In his hand
he had a box of bon-bons 'he had
brought in payment of a wager he had
lost. To make wagers with his fiancee
and lose them is the duty and delight
of every true lover. While waiting he
untied the ribbon of the box, so that
she might get at the sweets without
delay. But still she did not come.
To pass the time he was at last
forced to take up the paper May had
left in the easy chair. .Finding it
folded so as to show the “.Wit and Wis-
dom” column, he began to read the
paragraphs As became a man of the
world, he sniffed contemptuously at
the old jokes and smiled patronizingly
at those that were new to him: Sud-
denly he came to a dead halt at the
companion paragraph to the one that
was inspiring May’s conduct at that
moment. It read: -
“No man but a feel would marry a
girl whom he had never seen cry.”
”What nonsense!" he said, as he
passed on to the next paragraph. But
he didn’t read much before he found
himself turning back to that piece of
wisdom. ,
“By Jove!” he thought, “I. have
never seen May cry. Well, I hope I
never shall. I wonder what is keep-
ing her? Probably she is preparing
some little surprise for me;”‘ and he
smiled to himself with-that blissful
egotism peculiar to men who are en-
gaged. After awhile he reflected: "I
wonder if it would really be very hard
to make her cry? I guess not. She'is
such a dear, tender-hearted little creat-
ure it would be cruel to try. Still I
could easily explain everything away
and then we could make up friends.
She really deserves some punishment
for keeping me‘ waiting. I believe I'll
pretend to be ofiended and make my-
self disagreeable to her. I know that
will bring the tears to her eyes in an
instant and then I’ll explain. To be-
gin 'with, I’ll pretend not to have
brought the candies.” He went out in-
to the hallway to hide the box. The
first place that suggested itsélf was
his hat. and he dropped the box into
its ample depth. He had no sooner re-
turned to the parlor than May ap-
peared. Each had the same end in
views-to oflendthe other slightly. 0f
cOurse, neither began the plan of cam-
paign. until after the kiss of greeting.
Then he noticed that her hair was
made up in the way he detested. There
, was his‘excuse for being disagreeable
and he, jumped at It.
‘ ,
“Have you any idea how homely you
look when you have your hair made
up in that way?” he asked.
The cruel candor of the. question
made her gasp, for he had always
vowed that she looked beautiful in
every way. a _w
“Why. " she answered, saucily, “there
are‘other people who like it very much
in this way.” .
“Who, for instance?"
"Reggie Burnett.”
A detestable fellow. whom Fred
would not honor by considering as a
rival. _ . .
“I am proud to find you value his
opinion more than mine,” he answered,
hotly.
“He, at least. does not neglect to
pay when he loses a wager,” she re-
sponded, looking about for the expect-
ed box of candies.
“Then he is just the man for you to
make wagers with.”
“Thanks for the advice. I shall ar-
range one with him the next time he
calls.” ~
“And you can make up your hair in
exactly the way he likes it.”
“It is that way now.”
"Perhaps you are expecting him to-
night,” he remarked, suspiciously.
The suspicion hurt her more than his
anger and she began to lose her tem-
per too.
"I didn't say I was not!”
“That is why you are so disagree~
able to me! You wish to drive me
away, so that you can have the even-
ing free to spend it with him.”
“How clever of you to guess it all.”
They had both forgotten their
original purpose by this time and were
really angry with each other.
“And this,” he said, with all the
calmness he could command, "is the
girl who has promised to marry me!”
“She hasn’t married you yet, and she
never will."
“Very well!
late!”
“I am glad it isn’t!”
“Indeedl Then. Miss Bond, I shall
bid you good night, and leave you to
enjoy the company of those whose ad-
miration you prize so highly."
He rushed into the hallway and
picked up his hat. As he raised it to
his head a shower of assorted candies
rattled about him and scattered over
the, carpet. By distracting his mind
from his anger for a moment this little
accident brought him to his senses. He
felt that he could not leave her so, and
returned to the parlor to ask if he
might ring for a servant to sweep up
the candies.
As he stepped back to the parlor
door he saw that May had thrown her-
self on the sofa and was sobbing vio-
lently. With one hand she was taking
the pins out of her hair and pulling it
down about her shoulders.
It is almost always true of lovers’
quarrels that repentance comes swiftly,
though reconciliation may be slow. He
no sooner saw that she was crying than
he remembered he had set to work to
make her cry. Everything else—her
exasperating conduct and all—was for4
It is good it is not too
gotten in an instant. He rushed to
her side, and putting his arm about
her. pleaded:
“Forgive me. won’t you, dear? I
had no right to act so disagreeably, and
1 am very sorry.”
She instantly showed him a very
tearful face. '
“No! No! It is I who should ask for
forgiveness. I made up my hair in
that horrid way on purpose to anger
you. Will you forgive me?"
They forgave in the conventional
way. A moment later she laughed
through the tears that were still fall-
ing, as she reached up and took a
cream drop out of his hair.
“Why, how did that get there?”
“0! I brought that box of candies
and left it in my hat in the hallway.
When I was putting on my hat I
spilled the boxful of candies over my-
self. The fioor is covered with them.”
“Then you brought them after all?”
”Yes! lhid them out there just to
tease you.”
“Why?" she asked. Then she re-
membered that she had done up her
hair to provoke him. They both
looked instinctively at the paper and
then at each other.
“Were you reading those jokes. too?”
he asked.
She nodded, shamefacedly.
“And you thought you would not
be fool enough to marry me with4
out having seen me enraged?”
"Well, I suppose you feel the better
of having seen me cry,” she answered,
saucily.
At this point there occurred alack of
matter, such as Rosalind says should
be supplied with a kiss. Presently she
whispered: “Fred, dear, I have
' thought of another maxim that should
be added to the. two horrid ones in that
paper.”
“What is it?"
"Only a pair of fools would ever
try to be as wise as a newspaper
humorist.”—N. Y. Truth.
Land Titles In Indian Territory.
There are now about three hundred
thousand white people in the Indian
territory. They have built up towns,
but are mere tenants at suflrance with-
out a particle of title to the lands on
which they built. The Indian courts
are closed against them, as are the In-
dian schools to their children, thirty
thousand of whom have no other op-
portunity for schooling, excepting
those whose parents are able to hire
private teachers. They have no voice
in the governments of these five na-
tions nor a police officer to protect
them or their property against vio-
lence. It will be the object of the com-
mission, first, to obtain .such a solu-
tion of the town-site question that
those who have built up these towns
and invested large sums in costly
buildings .and expensive stores and
trading places may have some title to
the ground upon which the structures
stand and some voice in their govern-
ment, and secondly, to see that the
vast and valuable territory shall be
held either according to the original
title, for all Indians equally, or shall
be allotted in severalty to them, so
, that each may hold his own share in
feel—Chicago Chronicle. 1 ”of" '
Y ES 1 E R D A Y.
Why should ye troop
About my way,
0h! pallid ghosts
Oi yesterday?
Why wake me
From my flttul sleep.
To think of sorrows
Past, though deep?
Shine. brightly shine.
Fair morning sun,
And gild my darkness
As I run.
Bloom. sweetly bloom,
Ye flowers of May,
Above the graves
01' yesterday.
We will not waste
Life’s precious time.
_ In chanting sorrow’s
Mournful rhyme:
But. as we watch. .,
And as we pray,
We'll heed the lesson
Of to-day.
—Mrs. M. A. Kidder, in N. Y. Weekly.
.—
__,_,
A PICKANINNY PREACHER
Wonderful Doings of a Little
Negro Girl Evangelist.
.—
A South Carolina Squire's Story of the
Child .Who Is Preaching the Gospel
w'th Such Power to Black
and White.
About a dozen prominent members
of the southern colony in New York
met in the lobby of a down-town hotel
the other evening to talk over- old
times with a genuine old South Caro-
lina “squire," who is spending a few
days in the city, says the New York
8.111. This gentleman of the old school
acquired the title of squire in the old
days, when it was a little above that
of “judge,"
“colonel,""as a. mark of popularity and
dignity, and he wears it gracefully
still. ‘
“Squire, suppose we all take some-
thing." suggested the big colonel from
Kentucky.
“I can’t do it, boys,” responded the
squire, and a far-away look came into
his kindly eyes. “You see, I’ve stopped."
“Wh-e-w,” whistled the colonel, with
a long-drawn-out sound like a fall
wind. “I can hardly believe you.” And
every man in the party looked as if he
was thinking the same thing, but none
made any comment.
“How did such a misfortune come
upon you?” finally ventured a Virgin-
ian. after the first great wave of sur-
prise had subsided, for they all knew
that for nearly forty years the squire
had taken his toddy three times daily
after meals to aid his digestion.
“Well, boys, it was this way," he
said. “The little nigger girl preacher
converted me, and I’ve dropped a good
many of my old ways, such as cussin’,
swearin‘, and drinkin’. I reckon you
maybe all read that little editorial
about her in the Sunday’s Sun suggest-
ing that she should come to New York
and preach in Madison Square garden.
Well, all I’ve got to say is, if she comes
you must all go to hear her, and if her
sermon don’t touch your heartsrmore
than all the Parkhurstian bombs and
Talmagic Roman candles that you’ve
listened to since you moved to this dis-
trict, then I’ll go back to my wicked
ways.” -
“Who’d ever have thought that what
a durned little pickaninny had to say
would influence a man of your com-
mon sense, squire?” spoke up the old-
est man in the cm wd, testily. “I
wouldn’t have believed it of you. What
manner of child is she, anyway, and
where did she come from?"
“I don‘t know a great deal about her
past history. which is a very short one,
as she is only nine years old," com-
menced the squire, as he took a long
draw at a corndcob pipe, "but she was
born near Washington, somewhere in
Virginia, I think, in the fall of ’85. Her
daddy was a preacher, and died three
or four years ago. This child, whose
full name is Claretta Nora Avery, has
always eagerly attended religious serv-
ces and taken a great interest in the
spiritual welfare of her people. She
says that the love of God entered her
heart when she was a year and a half
old, and has never left it, but of course
you all won’t believe that, for no
genuine darky‘ has any idea of time.
‘I’d been hearing andfireading a good
deal about her, and not believing much,
and when business carried me to a
small town in the ,lower part of the
state, where she was holding a meet-
ing, I decided to go around to the
church to hear her. It was quite late,
and I got there just in time to catch
the last sentence of her sermon.
“I’m going to stay in the field here
until I die, and when death comes,
some time, ’way over yonder, where
my Jesus is, I’ll live there too, singing
always that new song with Him in
glory.’ - s... amata".t<mm¢fln
“Her voice had a mournful ringin it,
and the little creature made a most
pathetic picture as her head bobbed up
from behind the pulpit and her great
eyes roved over the congregation in an
appealing way. She looked about her
wearily and sadly for a moment, but
soon a radiant light fell upon her face,
for her sermon had struck home, and
she knew it; the entire congregation
began to sing, and the queer part of it
all was, they began to sing the same
thing. Soon some began to chant,
while others cried aloud, .moaning and
bewailing their sins. You talk about
your paid choirs. There isn’t enough
money in New York to buy such
music as I heard that night. The
voices were rich and full and sweet.
and a minor chord that touched one’s
very soul was the predominating
sound.
“Sermons and music have a most
electrifying effect upon a colored con-
gregation, and this one was soon
wrought up to the highest pitch of
religious excitement. Some of the
mo’ners prostrated themselves on their
faces, beating the bare floor with their
hands until they were worn out, when
they would lie in what is termed a.
trance. Others crawled on their knees
to the pulpit. Many of them sat in the
midst of this uproar and appeared
neither to see nor hear, so intent were
1' “d
they in working out their own salva: '
, tion. _ In themeantime the old sisters,
and far above that of\
who were sure of Heaven, kept on
singing to keep things going. The
leader that night was a regular old-
time, befo’-the-war mammy, and good-
ness fairly beamed from her counte-
, nance.
g “ 'I bin a li-ar so long, so long— a
‘ So long, so long;
I bin a ii-ar so long,'
she chanted in a weird, pathetic voice,
and every person in the congregation
who was able to lift his or her voice
chanted the {efrain at the end of every
three lines: -
" ‘Gin me a little time ter pray.‘
“Every one was in motion. Some
swayed their bodies backward and for-
ward, some shufiled their feet in time
to the music, and the very happy ones
clapped their hands and shouted:
‘Grlory, my Lawd!’ This kept up for
.hours. Several prostrate forms were
carried out, and a number were left in
the church, where they lay until next
day; When I got tired and went away
that night the little preacher, utterly
worn Out, had curled herself up in a
splint-bottom chair, and was enjoying
the sleep of innocent childhood. I
could hardly sleep that night for think-
ing about that meeting. I tell you,
boys, I was impressed.”
“I always thought you were above
such superstition, squire," remarked
some one. as the squire stopped to refill
his ipe.
“ ell. anyway, I went back the next
night,” resumed the squire. “and for
the first time got a good view of the
little preacher. She is a perfect child
in looks and ways. Her complexion is
about the color of an old mustard
ground ginger cake, her teeth white
and even, the whites of her large,
mournful eyes prominent, and she
doesn’t weigh more than sixty or seven-
ty pounds. There were a lot of white
people in the congregation, but she
took no notice of them. Curiosity
prompted me to go to listen to her, but
interest held me there. She spoke
right out in the most earnest way, as
if her only thought was preaching the
Gospel. Her delivery and gestures
were easy,"and, in fact, what she said
and the way she said it beat nine-
tenths of the preachers—especially
these evangelists—white or black.
“She opened service with avery good
prayer, and read, or rather recited, a
chapter from the Bible, which did not
bear on the sermon in the least. Ber
one thought seems to be to prepare for
the Great Beyond, which she desig-
nates as 'wav over yonder.‘ She talks
about the hereafter in a most pathetic
way, and l remember on that particu-
lar night her text was: 'Business in
Heaven.‘
“ 'I'll'meet you there, sinner.’ she
said, 'for I got business with Capt.
Jesus. lmust 'tend to it. I must go
where partin’ is no ad. I got to put
on along white robe. s starry crown,
silver slippers, and sit at my Master’s
feet. I'll meet you over yonder, way
_over yonder, for ‘we all got to cross
Jordan stream dry shod and go over
yonder. I’ll meet you there, sad-
hearted mothers. I’ll meet you there.
wicked fathers. I’m going to get in-
side those pearly gates. Are you? Are
you? Sinner, you must get right.
Learn it now. Now is the time. Way
over yonder may be too late for you.’
and so on. Night after night I went,
and each time she had a new sermon,
each one containing a sad strain.
“She made a pathetic figure, always
clad in deepest black without the
slightest touch of color, that children
love so well, or the faintest suggestion
of an ornament. When occasion de-
manded she rebuked thoughtless per-
sons for bad behavior in a few clear-
cut, kind sentences, and went right on
with her sermon. If the Gospel grind-
ers would only learn that it isn’t these
staggering truths, which cannot be
grasped by the average mind, but a
doctrine of simple, earnest faith that
arouses people to-better living. But
they never will, Now it was the sin-
cerity of the little nigger, and the
earnestness of her followers, that im-
pressed me, and, while I can’t say that
.she converted me, she certainly set me
to thinking, and I concluded to leave
off doing certain things. ‘
“I wanted to give her something, and
couldn’t make up my mind what to
buy her. She reads poorly, and can
scarcely write at all, but somehow
she didn’t seem like a child that would
care for toys. Finally, in a sort of
desperation, I settled on alarge wax
doll with highly colored cheeks and a
mass of . yellow hair. lf you could
have seen her antics of delight when
she found that it was all her own. She
clasped it to her as if she would never
let it go, and then she told me that she
used always to preach sermons to her
dolls, and that the people who over-
heard her persuaded her to preach to
people, which was the very thing she
had always longed to do. ’
“Everybody agrees that she is a won-
der, and I tell you she is. Many white
people think her inspired, and the
blacks believe that she is sent directly
from God as a warning, and that the
judgment day is coming soon. I domt
, know. because I’ve never thought a.
‘ great deal about such things. But I
do think she is entirely different from
any little child that I’ve ever seen, and
I shall never. never forget her, with
her solemn ways and her unceasing
warnings about what we must do and
must not do ‘if we want to meet each
other when we get home, way over
yonder.’ ”
There was a great shuffling of feet,
coughing and clearing of throats
among the squire’s visitors as he con-
cluded. and the blustering gentleman
from Kentucky began to denounce the
excise law in loud tones. But the
squire looked at the rings of smoke as
he blew them upward from his corn-
cob pipe, and had little to say the rest
of the evening.
—-Condemn no man for not thinking
as you think. Let everyone enjoy the
full and free liberty of thinking for
himself. Let every .man use his own
judgment, since every man must give
an account of himself to God. if you
cannot persuade a man into the truth,
-, never attempt to. force him into it. If
got compel him to come, leave
,_the judge, of all—John
.
“ My mother
We use it for everything.
B autifully
You Will have them if you use
has used- Ivoxms WASHING POWDER
for a long time, and thinks it unequalled. She has tried
a number of other powders recommended as just as
good, but has found them all failures.
MARY E. KIERNAN,
Portsmouth, R. I.
The J. B. WILLIAMS (0., Glastonbury, Conn.
Makers of Williams' Famous Shaving Soaps.
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......
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VORINE.
WASHING POWDER
A choice ,
coke of Olive
Oil Soap will be
found in each pooh,
age of IVORINB
Washing Pow-
Ivorine is prime.
FARM VILLAGES IN AMERICA.
A Plan That Will Make Rural Life More
Attractive.
' Hon. John Bookwalter, of New York,-
a large land owner in Nebraska, Illinois
and Ohio, proposes a plan to make life
on the farm more attractive and per-
haps. to make farm work more re-
munerative. His idea was obtained
from observations in the rural districts
of France and Switzerland, and may be
productive of much good. It is simply,
says the Pittsburgh Dispatch, to con-
centrate the rural population in vil-
lages of 500 to 5,000 persons, to give
them the advantages of social life and
modern luxuries and amusements. Mr.
Bookwaltcr will begin on a 60,000-acre
tract he owns in Nebraska, and pro-
poses to organize a town which is to
have a theater, music hall, library and
(other advantages for amusement and
instruction.
In France, as is well known, the rural
population is grouped in villages, the
farms radiating in narrow strips from
the towns in the center. Mr. 'Book-
walter claims nothing new for his idea,
but thinks the French villages may be
improved upon in this rich, new coun-
try, where large acreage may be laid
out with the village idea, instead of
growing by subdivision. There is no
doubt- the centering of population in
this way would add greatly to the. at
tractiveness of life on the farm. The
social contact is one of the chief at-
tractions of the city. Neither can there
‘be much doubt that such community of
the rural population would give it
greater influence in state and national
affairs, in legislation and administra-
tion. It would naturally lead to better
sanitary conditions, to conveniences, to
police and fire protection that are now
lacking in the widely-separated farm-
houses, and all this without detracting
from the advantages of rural surround—
ings, such as trees, flowers and the sup-
ply of the best and freshest that the
garden, dairy, orchard and farm can
produce.
DANGEROUS BLUE HERON.
Hunters Have Been Hurt Trying to Cap-
ture as Wounded Bird.
“Some of these days,” said the ’long-
shore hunter to a New York Sun man,
“I expect to open my daily paper and
see a headline something like this:
‘Killed- by a Blue Heron,’ and I’ll tell
you why. The blue heron is a big,
powerful bird, which has already dis-
figured the faces of several men. The
men have wounded a bird, and then,
thinking to capture .it- alive, they went
up to it. Why, I’d as soon try to kiss
a wounded grizzly. The birds grow as
tall as six. feet and have. necks. like a
fish rod and just the kind of muscles
10 move it quickest with the most
strength. They could drive their bill
points through a. quarter-inch panel.
“The hunter goes up to a bird and
sees it lying there looking as inno-
cent as a robin,wit-h only awing broken.
‘What a fine pet it would make,’ the
fool hunter thinks. ‘ Then he picks the
. bird up and starts for home in a wagon
or a boat, with the bird between his
knees. The bird’s neck is drawn back
like a letter ‘S.’ All of a sudden the
bill shoots up and gives the man a gash
alongside the eye three inches long.
That is what always has happened. The
wounded bird has missed its aim, but
some time, and you want to remember
it, this feathered .spearman will drive
its bill into an enemy’s eye, and, like a
steel umbrella stick, the point of the
bill will penetrate the man’s brain. I
guess the bird’s aim has always been
spoiled by the pain of its wounds, and
so many a human life has been saved. I
don’t monkey with wounded bitterns or
cranes—well, scarcely.” ng'fgfl‘ffieg-‘fg
. _____—.-'——-—-—- 4.. ' 31.3w “Ea
INGENIOUS WOOD RATS. 77;;
Built a House of Railroad Spikes and
Lined It with Bags.
The wood rat of the western slopes of
the Cascade range is a curious creature
that loves to steal so well that it is
known to many as the camp robber. It
carries off anything it can lay'its lips
to, and is besides a jolly, reckless fellow.
It does things which rodents are not
given to doing.
Forest and Stream tells of some of its
favorite spoils. It will take knives,
forks and tin plates, cartridges, cups
and anything it can handle in the line
of clothing, towels or gun rags, which
make soft linings for its nest. It- is re-
lated how a pair of these rats staked
off a claim on top of a. hunter’s camp
stove, and put up the most curious rat
house anybody had ever heard of. About
200 yards away was a. railroad shanty,
where the motion. men kept their sup-
plies, and among other things was a. keg
of 'railroad spikes, such as are used to
fasten the rails to the ties. The rats
" took some spikes to their claim, built
up an iron wall, and lined the interior
with soft stuff. It is a curious fact that
all the points of the spikes were directed
outward, and they were laid with great
regularity. and firmness.
The habits of the rat are a study for a
naturalist, and it makes things so in-.
teresting for the natives that they kill
it on sight.
r.
j - woo-fl-.-
‘ v~ulm . u'
, . . 4
F15
. llo Fifth lAve... cor. lath 8h, '4
TH E‘ CELLAR CAM PAIG N.
The Season Has Arrived for Its Vigorous
Accomplishment.
As the spring draws on and “that
tired feeling” so graphically portrayed
by the vendors of various patent medi-
cines takes possession of us, our
thoughts, which fain would revel 'in-
swelling bud and freshening green,
must, if we are housekeepers, be
brought to the depths of our habita-
tions, and the needs of the cellar—the
very source and inspiration of many
of our corporeal woes—receive our
first attention.
In the large cities, where supplies
are bought in limited quantities, the
cellar debris is of a different character
from that which litters the ground
apartment of farm or village residence.
Here repose in “mute inglorious ease.”
dismantled packing boxes, incapaci—
tated coal scuttles, punctured wash-
boilers. and dislocated boards, and all
too frequently a collection of “bones
and paylins that the cat has dragged
down unbeknownst to me, mum,” and
which from all appearances. should
long ago should have been relegated
to oblivion. How, then, can the inter-
ests of health be better conserved than
by devoting the first bright sunshiny
spring morning to avigorous onslaught
upon this subterranean catch-all of our
dwellings? _
We can all realize the danger that
lies in wait for those who neglect this
important stronghold of disease. From
an ill-kept cellar rise poisonous ex-
halations that permeate the house. Ma-
laria here lies in wait for victims, and
from here diphtheria and typhoid fever
and rheumatism send out their im-
palpable but deadly miasma. For,
although disease germs may originate
in the cellar, they are no stay-at-homes,
and soon make their way from cellar to
attic, leaving destruction and ; even
death in their wake. « tram
Arming ourselves, therefore, for the
conflict in' cup ahd‘jacket “and old
gloves, let us head our light brigade
and proceed to fell upon the enemy
right valiantly. . em}
The first attack should be in the na-
ture of a rout, and no quarter should
be shown. _ Ire-v
If a few potatoes are left, sprout
them, and lay in a clean basket or box;
then fall upon all other valetudinarian
vegetables that skulk in corners and
behind boxes and barrels, and give
them decent sepulture in the ash re-
ceptacle. Then sweep down the cob-
webs; send the most agile member of
the corps with dustpan and brush into
the bins, with instructions to “spare
not” empty barrels and boxes. Sweep
up the dirt, and let no tender senti-
ment withhold the avenging hand from
veteran and rusty foot tubs, teakettles
and coffee mills.
Boxes and barrels that are not need-
ed can be chopped up and added to the
kindling pile; pork barrels can be
emptied and scalded; butter tubs
scraped and washed. Brush off the
swing shelves; wash out the cupboards
where the canned fruit is kept, and
scrub the cellar stairs. Then, with a
bucket of lime and an old broom, if
you have no brush, give walls and ceil-
ing a thorough coat of whitewash.
That will sweeten the air and bring
cleansing and healing in its wake.
This being satisfactorily accom-
plished and a half peck of unslaked
lime placed in an open box to absorb
the moisture from the atmosphere, the
troops may be withdrawn for rest and
refreshment, assured that their first vic-
tory in the spring campaign is coriforf~
ably perched upon their bannera-J.
Y. Times. I,“ “galslmswa ”.3;— my;
:::-.._l.f§&' M ..::'.".4:..\l-Jg
CHARLES VII. of France was The
Victorious. He won forty-seven battles.
EDGAR, the Saxon king of England,
was The Peaceable, from his dislike of
a" '-
war. . , -ww‘:
grooms ~.
takes out ink, paint, ‘ ., ~ -4 -
tar, pitch, grease 7.: ' 1' N . ' -.
and stains from 1‘ 5P0TIJIE§ ‘ I,
‘CLEANSjI
clothing and car-~ .
pets quickly and.
completely and ,
Mateavesflss - 4 , .
—No Acid.-—— _ 1°C., 256., at Drug
No unpleasant odor. and Dry Goods Stores
Not inflammable. Samples mailed, 5c.
L. B. SUTTON, New Canaan, Ct.
56 YEARS, ESTABLISHED.
GRA ND‘QIVD UPRIGHT.’
Nearly 100,000 Manufactured.
EASY rem—57"“ excumosog
' FISCHER PIANO WARERoomsfi
_‘
I u...
Writqfor, Catalogue.
Norwalk Chronicler