WAITING. Serene i told my hands and wait, Nor care for wind. nor tide, nor sea: 1 rave no more ‘gainst time or fate. For, lol my own shall come to me. i stay my haste. I make delays, For what avails this eager pace: I stand amid the eternal ways, And what is mine shall know my face. Asleep. awake, by night or day The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark astray, Nor change the tide of destiny. What matter if I stand alone ? I wait with joy the coming years: MY heart shall reap where it has sown, And garner up its fruit of tears. The waters know their own. and draw The brook that springs in yonder heights; So flows the good with equal law , Unto the source of pure delights. The stars come nightlv to tl‘e’ sky, The tidal wave unto the sea; Nor ti ‘ , nor space, nor deep, nor high. Can eep my own away from me. —John Burroughs. A MONTH. “You can’t do it, Mab; you can't hire a. furnished house only for a month. It would be a chance in a hundred.” “I can try, and I am going to, . thel. To stay stifling in this lonesome boarding house all the vacation is unbearable, and country board wouldn’t be better, cooped up in attic chambers with , the scent of fried doughnuts in all the closets; People who have pleasant country-places do leave them some- times in the summer, for the lakes and the mountains; and the use of such a house would be a godsend to us.” “Yes, dear. Well, what do you pro- pose to do?” “Go dowh and see the house agents.” “I’ll go with you.” These two young ladies were charm- ing sisters cf about twenty—school- teachers in the city. They had no home but the large boarding house where -they had dwelt- for the last year, ahd this was cheerless enough when deserted by the nicest people who had hied away to green fields and pas- tures new at the first breath of sultry air. Ethel was a pretty blonds—Mal), a bright brunette; but just now their beauty was shaded by overwork. They needed rest and escape from the mo- notonous round of school teaching. The house agents listened and shook their heads. “We have no furnished houses to let for so short a time as for a month. For two months now, or for the season—” “We have only a month’s vacation, and would need it only for that time,” .said Mab. . “Cain give you no encouragement, positively. Sorry! Would be glad to accommodate you, ladies. And you might leave your address,“ and if any opening occurs we will let you know.” “I told you, so,” said Ethel. I. Sun-shine a - bove, And sunshine in WEEKLY-"NURWA1.7x -5GA.ZETT_E. " ‘ ONYX IN xENTUCKY. So they' turned away.‘ . A handsome, buxom lady, richly messed, passed in as they came out. “Here’s the key to the Pansies,” she said. “I shan’t need it for a month. I am going to the seashore, where it is livelier.” “But you hired the cottage for the seiscnzMrs. Willoughby.” ' _ “Well, all you have to do is to let it for me. I am responsible for the rent, of course, in any event. I prefer to have it let. There is the garden, horse and phaeton, poultry and cow. Somebody may as well have the good of them.” I “Is the place quite vacant?" “No. My boy Pixie is there.” “Fortunately we have a chance to let it at once for you, Mrs. Willough- by,” said one of the gents, seizmg his hat and hurrying .er Mab and Ethel. “Well, we have'got the hundredth chance, sure enough, Mab.” “Isn’t it a gem of a place, Ethel? And the strawberries and the flowers!” “And the charming rooms!” “And the pony p‘haeton!” “And the Jersey cow that gives real cream! Fresh eggs every day, too. That boy, Pixie, seemed glad to see us. I expect he was lonesome.” “Everything is just delightful!” The girls may well have congratu- lated themselves. The Pansies had every comfort and convenience for country life, but. Helen Willoughby, being especially fond of society, and her brother being absent on a yachting and seclusion. But the retirement was just what Mab and Ethel needed and desired. The pure, balmy air gave them're- freshing sleep and good appetites. With their own fair hands they cooked the d-aintiest meals, trimmed the room with flowers, lunched off strawberries and cream, drove about the green country roads in the luxur- ious phaeton, or played and sang in the cool piano and plenty of music disposal. So happy and at their contented were they that they could think of the ' month ending only with a groan. They put the unwelcome thought aside and enjoyed the present. They had no neighbors and they didn’t want any. 'They were cool wrappers all day, read in the hammocks, braided their hair down their backs, and lin- gered for two mortal hours at their meals. But in these days of liberty and abandon came the long rain—storm. The rain came down in sheets—tor- rents. It was a deluge. The girls watched it from chamber window. From a direction beyond their range two sturdy pedestrians, protected by a single umbrella, marched arm-in- arm through the merciless fall of wa- ter. their parlors—for there was a : i sea—trip. . ing, and have had no late news of my “Very stupid of me, Alan; but I thought we could make the six miles, and get to my sister’s house before the rain fairly set in. But here we are, blowing our way through the water like a couple of porpoises. If you hadn’t been sick—I’m afraid you’ll get your death." “Never mind, Lance. I’m dry as yet. I see a glimpse of white among the trees. Is that the house?” “Yes, that’s the cottage. Helen is a master hand at a hot negus. You’ll be all right in a minute, my boy.” “You’re browned up so by your sea trip, Lance, I don’t believe your sis- ter’ll know you." “Salt water agrees with me better than fresh—that’s a fact.” By the time they had reached the Pansies, the-rain storm had increased to such violence that Mr. Laurence Leighton burst open the door without much ceremony, and hurriedly reliev- the virgin gold from the hills and shoes and dripping coats in the hall, where they proceeded to the parlor, where the open piano, flowers and books about gave the apartment the air to which Mrs. Willoughby’s broth- er was accustomed. “Helen is somewhere about, Alan. I’ll find her in a minute.” Meanwhile the girls had heard the sounds of intrusion with unspeakable dismay. “Robbers!” breathed Mab. “Lunatics!” whispered Ethel. Ethel looked as if she was going to faint. Mab’s black eyes flashed. She . picked up a parasol and marched down trip for a month, had tired of its quiet ' stairs. Ethel, catching the spirit of resistance, caught up a poker and fol- lowed. Lance, who was about leaving the parlor in search of his sister, retreat- ed in dismay before the appearance of these fair but very eccentric-looking strangers. . _ “Sirs!” cried Mab, “What does this mean? What are you 'here for?” “Madam —- ladies —” stammered Lance, looking at the parasol and poker. “A mistake, ford. “What mistake?” demanded Mab. “This is our house. By what right are you here?” “Pardon, but I left my sister, Mrs. Helen Willoughby—e” ,! murmured Alan West- “She vacated the premises more than a fortnight ago.” “Then pray excuse me! I am in- truding. I am Mr. Laurence Leigh- ton; this is my friend, Mr. Westford, in whose yacht I have lately taken a We landed only this morn- sister’s movements. I supposed she was here. We have just walked from Harborside, overtaken by the storm, and Mr. Westford has hardly yet re- covered from an attack of pleurisy; but we will go to the village—to the hotel—at once, of course.” Mab’s black eyes looked ir-to Aim SONG .. SUNSHINE ABOVE.” Fronzf‘A GAIETY GIRL." ARRANGED BY ALBERTO HIMAN. my heart! Laughter and love Hold 2. Mu - sic a- round,And mu - sic on the breeze! Sweet is the sound To Car - ni-val \. to - day. Come, 0 my sweet-No long - er need we part; onewhose heart beats high. Fate yield-ing fast, . Our hap - pi - ness de - crees; Come, I Sun - shine at en - treat! last, 3?: @9ch For love brooks no Floods earth, and sea, Then Then do - lay. and sky. Westford’s blue fines; ‘and inf-hers blue eyes looked into Laurence’s black ones. There was a pause. ' “If Mr. Westford is sick—” said Mab, dropping her pa’rasol. , “Of course he can’t go out into the rain,” said Ethel, putting away her poker. “No, and I hope you will us,” said Mab. “And stay to supper. -We are not inhospitable," said Ethel. “And Pixie shall drive you over to the hotel in the phaeton this evening,” concluded Mab. ' The supper was very nice. The young ladies wore their most becom- ing dresses and put up their long braids. Alan thought that Mab was the prettier; Laurence thought Ethel was. The gentlemen spent the most de- lightful evening of their lives at the Pansies, and found their way back there, by invitation, the next day. Quickly two engagements followed. These young people evidently counted time by heart beats. When, in the following spring, Laurence and Ethel were married, they purchased the Pansies as their summer home; while Alan and Mab took their wedding trip in the farmer’s beautiful yacht. pardon CHEATING GAS METERS. The New Automatic Kind Very Popular on New York’s East Side. The automatic gas meters which were placed on the east side by the Consolidated Gas Company are not doing their work satisfactorily, The machines are so constructed that when a 25-cen-t. piece is dropped in the slot a valve is opened which allows 208 1-3 feet of gas to be used before it closes again. Several thousands of; these meters were placed in the tenements of the east side. At first everything went all right, but soon the company’s agent noticed that although a. great deal of gas was being used iew coins were being dropped in the slot. An investigation disclosed the system by which the gas company was being cheated. The quarter used was attached to a string and lowered into the slot. There it was worked up and down until the valve had been opened four or five times, when it was allowed to drop. By this means more than 1,000 feet of gas was obtained for 25 cents. To meet this trick the company placed a small knife in the machine in such a a way as to cut the string. ever, was soon got around by the use of wire instead of cord. The east side, in a blaze of lights, now awaits the next move on the part of the gas company.—New York Sun. The High Hat of England. In London silk hats are worn in the afternoon by all saris of men with all sorts of suits. It is therefore not sur- prising io learn that 12,000,000 of them are made annually in the United King- dom. \ ' Tempo (Zi- Valse come, my la - dy cv - ’ry - where”--- Yet sought in c’z'zzz. wait--- A ,1 +— . (:71 .‘if v com-e - - This, how-' fair,-..-- And we.“ - ship v to me ..... -. 'IALUABLE sens-oi= TH-ISISTONE DIS: COVERED—AN UNUSUAL FIND. The Field Covers an Area of from 20 to 25 Miles in Length find 12 to 15 in Width, and is the Richest ,Ever Known—Worth Dlilli'ons of Dollars. It has been discovered that there are in the State of Kentucky the richest and most extensive beds of onyx ever known to exist. Their value is bil- lions of dollars. As soon as the work« ing thereof is be 11 thousands of per< sons will be given employment. An idea of the richness of these beds may be gained from the fact that in one tract alone 300,000 cubic feet of onyx that is unsurpassed in texture is visible. The color of the stone varies greatly and in shades hitherto un- known. The average value of onyx ranges from $3 to $15 a cubic foot, and as this onyx is of the superlative de— gree a child can see its immense value. Up to the present time onyx beds have been known to exist in Arizona, Arkansas and Virginia. In Arizona, where the richest beds are located, they were a considerable distance from the railroad, making the securing of the onyx an expensive matter. The Ken- tucky beds are easily accessible, and it is an actual fact that it will be possi- ble to land the onyx in New York City for a sum less per cubic foot than the duty on onyx is to—day. Wondrous tales of What the onyx beds in Old Mexico formerly yielded have been told. It was calculated that from the Pe- drara quarry, in Mexico, which cover- ed three or four acres of ground, more than fifty million dollars’ worth of onyx had been taken previous to 1892, when the beds were exhausted. The onyx exported from Mexico is c0m~ paratively small in amount and the duty is so great that it makes it ex- ceedingly high priced. It may easily be seen that the prospects of the Ken~ tucky beds are marvellous. The onyx fields of Kentucky lie about eighty miles south of Louisville. It is from twenty to twenty-five miles in length, and from twelve to fif- teen miles in width. ‘ This great field, practically un- known as yet, is certainly a most im- portant one. It covers a most extend- ed area and contains a large number of most promising deposits. That the stone is in vast quantities is without question. It may be quarried in blocks as large as can possibly be handled, and from those slabs, blocks or co-l- umns may be made as large as may be desired for any purpose. The colors of the stone are varied, intense and unique. In texture it is fine, firm and compact. No clay cen- cretions occur in it, and it is remarka- bly fine from the small interstices in- cident to imperfect cryctallization 7“. Come back . , , ,., 7" :5 Rd. T5117. thee, - -- - called “sand-holes," so common in fine marbles and other crystalline racks.— St. Louis Star. ' YANKEE THRIFT AGAIN. now a Maine Farmer Managed to Please 1 All Hands. I heard a story the other day, says a writer in the Washington Post, i from Kennebunkport, that remotef Maine village, which Wetant Posts, master General Heath declares is the. only summer resort in New England worth while. A certain man up there ' bought an old farm, and 'having're- moved the grave stones from the an- cient burying grounds on it, proceed- . ed to plow up the spot with the inten- tion of making small potatoes of the ancestors of some of Maine’s first fam- ilies. The first families protest-ed against the desecration, and demanded that the stones be restored. The new owner was obliging, but he was—well, he was a’ Maine Yankee, and he didn’t mean to give up his potato field, so he set the stones up as a'sort of fence about his field. They made a very good fence, the first families were sat- isfied. and the potato crop was one of the largest in the state. A Good Boat. An old darky who runs the little fer- ry across a New England river affords much entertainment to passengers by his quaint remarks. Not long ago a farmer, who had driven on to the ferry with a heavy. load of summer boarders, said, “Uncle Rufe, s’posin’ your pulley con-trivance should give out, where do you cal'late we’d go?” “Stay right in de boat,” returned the ferryman. , “Yes, but the boat might be in heav- en before you knew it,” said the farm- er. “Huh! When d’you ever hear ob a. boat gwine to heaben?” inquired Uncle Rufe. “How about the ship of Zion?” asked the farmer. ‘ 17;? a moment the old darky looked ".3:'3‘Te:~:.e.!. Then he rallied, and smiled brordly on his persistent fare. "Why, anybody’d take you for an iguanart in'sson if you talk like dat,” he 4.14:1: “dat boat wa’nt made ob .. .1 war made ob faith, and it .i: anything to do wid de ques~ Elm, . .v, ebb!" A Soft Snap. “l nest have been a. fool when I in .; l ind.‘ 3.1:(1 little Tompkyns, glaring tie-.w :' .4. his wife. ‘ .,.:. :1’iily, my dear,” said Mrs. ._ ”gas, sweetly. “It couldn’t come . my all in two years, could it?" D (1K .._-. i::‘:.z.';...;—school class. was sing- ~ .: . ' 2-2. 10 be an angel." - :z‘t you sing louder, Bob- lie teacher. g as loud as I feel," ex- Ah, do not he - si-tate, l a! liner! 1. .i-Ly. gain! . -.. . I sought ‘1 6'" " . o. vain-.--. \Vithlongling heart ‘I -i t- .p. But %7’ roll. e 6763. h 6 (‘/IPC. Q But come . ..7. -. m to me.
Norwalk Chronicler