is A PLEASANT WAR STORY. I Frendship and ,Fidelity 0n the Atlanta Battlefield. On that part of the line in front oi Atlanta occupied by the Twentieth Corps the pickets often entered into an agreement not to fire for anywhere from half an hour to three hours. The pick- et lines were so close together that a Yankee whisper could be heard by the Johnnies. The show of a head or any part of a body meant a shot, and usual- ly a wound or death. ;When the pickets becameso weary from sitting in the cramped picket pits that lifewas an al- most unbearable burden a truce was called for. If the call came from the Confederates it was in this way or the Way very similar to this: “Yanks, how do you alls feel?” “Like Satan, or Worse. These picket pits gives us the cramps.” “That’s our fix, too. Suppose we stop the killing for an hour or so while we stretch our limbs and get rested?” “Mighty glad to make such a. con. tract.” “All right. We will let up three min- utes from now and give you three min- utes to get back into your pits before the . shooting begins.” ~ “It is a bargain.” Then these brave men climbed out , of ‘ the pits, straightened their legs, stretch- ed their arms and talked to each other on as friendly terms as so many farmers who had met on a line fence might be expected to do. ‘ By and by the man who had led in making the contract stepped out from his associates and said: “I’m sorry, Yanks, but the time is up. Hunt your holes. and watch out.” When the boys were safe in their graves, as the picket pits were often called, and as they sometimes proved, a Yank called back: “We are fixed. J ohnnies; let her sivler.” _ “And they “slivered”—-both sides. It was murderous business, that picket firing, much of it.‘~ The pickets of the Second Massachu- mts and ,4. Third Wisconsin made such an arrangement with the men over there one hot afternoon. Things went along charmingly for more than an hour, when a young officer appeared on the Confederate line and ordered the men in go to firing. “W 3- can’t do it, sir," said the ser- geant. “We have agreed with the ‘ Yankees to quit shooting for two hours. The time is only half up.” “Sergeant, order the pickets to begin firing at once.” “I can’t break my word with the Yankees, sir.” “Then I will. man of you.” Not a man touched his gun or started for the pits. The yOung officer seized a gun and. shot at the Union pickets. That was the signal for our line to open fire. The balance of that ‘day the Confederate picket in front of those two regiments didn’t shoot to kill. Those who didn’t shoot in the air separated their chunk of lead from their ’cartridges—blanked them. ’ That night a dozen or more of the pickets left their pickets and crept into the Union lines, giving as their excuse the conduct «of the young ofiicer. Their haversacks were filled the next morn- ing by the Massachusetts and Wiscon- sin boys as they started on their journey North. French leave? Precisely. ETIQUETT’E’ SATISFIED. Lord Leighton was Ennobled Just in Time to Save a “’rangle. Sticklers for etiquette were much con- cerned over the inscription engraved on the lid of the coffin of the late President of the English Royal Academy, which described the mortal remains beneath as those of “Lord” Leighton. It was argued that, although the announce- ment of the Queen’s intention to confer a peerage was published on New Year’s day, the patent of nobility had not been made out, so that he really died a bar- onet, and the inscription should have read “Sir Frederick Leighton.” ‘ The distinction did not seem worth wrangling about in the presence of an unburied corpse,“ but taste does not count for much in these matters. and the controversy raged furiously, con- currently with the preparations for the funeral at St. Paul’s Cathedral. For- tunately for the decencies of, life, all doubts were finally set at rest by the ap- pearance of the official London Gazette, in which the Queen’s pleasure was made knOwn in customary form. From this it was seen that the letters patent were dated Jan. 24. Thus poor Leigh- ton was duly and with all form and cer- emony made a noble just a few hours before he had become common clay. Philadelphia’s Small Boy, He was a very small boy, and very ragged, but there was a look in his eyes of shrewd intelligence beyond his years. His left hand he held behind his back, but his right was extended, and be- twoen the grimy fingers he had a half- smokedstump of a cigarette. He had his eye on a well dressed man who was walking jauntily a cm; the street, ‘swing- ing his cane. “Say, mister,” said the boy, "gimme a match, will yer, please?” The man stopped good naturedly. and smiled when he saw the dirty cigarette stump. He made a pretense of search- ing his pockets for a match, and finally said:, “I haven’t one, bu .” The boy hastily slipped the stump in- to his pocket and withdrawing his left hand from behind his back displayed a large box containing an assortment of small boxes. "If yer ain’t got no matches,” said he. “how’s a good time fer you ter buy, I Begin firing, every got ’em all, wax and wood, and some_ w’at won’t blow out in de wind an’ ud- ders w’at will. Yer takes yer pick.” He sold two boxes for a nickel. ——Philadel- phia Record. ‘ The cycles in use in the French army are to be provided with an electric light ' which can b9_t.}1‘11‘i1_92?9d 9? sit. still- (—fl'b' THE EVENING GAZETTE IT WAS, NECKTIES THIS TIME. Ike Man With the Silk Hat and Diamond Pin Caught the Dan sville Crowd. On Tuesday the man with the silk cat, diamond pin, monumental gall and oily tongue was in Danville, says the Breeze, and announced his arrival by hiring a hack of Joe McNeil and driv- ing up Main street with 'a snake en- twined about his neck.- Of course the snake was a fake, same as all his other doings were. LW ell, he hauled up at the Hyland House corner and sold a few quarters for 15 cents same as‘ ‘all his predecessors have done, and after a while got down to business. His bait was not soap nor electric belts, but neckties. When he began to (infer them for sale the scheme looked so stale, and . threadbare, and ancient that nobody expected he would catch a single sucks er.- But, he knew better. He would pick' up a big wad of bills and then lay them down again,and then offerforsale a ' necktie. The crowd thought that somehow one of the bills had stuck fast to the necktie, so he had no trouble in selling lots of them at 50 cents each though he repeatedly told them that they were cheap cotton things not worth a cent. They wouldn’t believe him, however, but insisted on buying them. They were not all conntry fel- low-s either, though occasionally one of that class bit, but they were men who live right here in town, who have to work for a living, who have hard work to make both ends meet, and some of their names appear on the wrong side of every ledger in town. Men, .who if you should present your bill to them would swear up hill and down that they didn’t have a cent. And yet they bought these ties and paid half a dollar for them, and then stood where the faker told them to, and. put the tie in their pocket without examining it, as he told them to, and would have been there yet if he had said so, and the rain hadn’t begun to fall, and driven the salesman under cover. SOMETHING FOR NOTHING. This Lady Got It, but Then Was Not at All Satisfied. - An amusing rebuke was recently ad- ministered in England to one of those sharp bargainers who are always on the alert to get more than their money’s worth. The offender in the present in- stance was a woman, who sent the fol— lowing advertisement to a London paper: “A lady in delicate health wishes to meet with a useful companion. She must be domestic, musical, an early riser, amiable, of good appearance and have some experience in nursing. A total abstainer preferred. Comforta- ble home. No salary," A few days afterward the advertiser receiVed by express a basket labelled: “This side up—with care—perishable." 0n opening it she found a tabby cat, with a letter tied to its tail. It ran thus: ' “Madam—In response to your adver- tise-ment, I am happy to furnish you with very useful‘ companion,whichyou will find exactly suited to your require. ments. She is domestic, a good vocal- ist, an early riser, possesses an amia- ble disposition and is considered hand- some. She has had a great experience as a nurse, having brought up a large family. I need scarcely add that she is a total abstainer. A's salary is no object to her, she will serve you faith- fully in return for -a comfortable home.”-—Youth’s Companion. A Wishing Party. The street urchins sat on an aban- doned stake wagon which ornamented a vacant lot on South Third street. The conversation had been mainly di- rected to a discussion of base ball. There was a lull for a few moments, then the smallest of the quartet spoke up: “Say, fellers, what would youse rad- der be dan anything else?” This sort of an inquiry was rather out of the ordinary line of stake wagon talk, but the other three seemed in a good humor to answer, and Jimmie, the Mope, spoke first. . “I’d radder be a dorg,” lie said, "’cause I wouldn’t have to wear‘no clothes and I could spen’ me whole time chasin’ cats.” “Dat’s a fine kine of a wish‘, I mus’ say,” Mickey Moran, the toughest boy in the neighborhood, was the one who spoke now. “Wat’s de matter wid be ing a woming, so’s you could stay home all day an? bake cakes, an’ pies, an’ eat ’em yourself?8 This conception of Mickey‘s pleased the crowd highly. Then the urchin who proposed the wishing business be- rm 3 I'M “I wish’t I was a cop. Dey don’t do nuthin’ but ride on street cars free an? swipe peanuts.” (But just then the policeman on the beat appeared and a second later the stake wagon was un- occupied—St. Louis Republic.- ZIM M ERAHACKLE’S OBSERVATIONS. Red pepper is the hottest thing that you can’t kindle a fire with. Let up on your neighbors and talk about the weather. It has no charac- ter to lose. The physician at a Kneipp cure is about the only man who can tell a per- son to! “go to grass” without giving offense. “Frog’s legs are thirty-five cents.”— Buffalo Courier. That is the last 'spring price, for they never spring again. “The way of the transgressor is hard.” That’s why a law-defying bi-. cyclist rides on the walk when the street is muddy. Why is it that moths would rather eat holes in a new $40 dress suit than in an old pair of $7 pants that hang right alongside? The man who said that “language was given to conceal one’s thoughts” must have been listenin-g'to two women trying to tell why they. hadn't called on Inch other.-Dansville, N. Y. Breeze, p.111- I I GBADY’S COWCING PROOF. How 'He Forced a Merchant to AcknoWh edge Poo ple Read Advertisements. A correspondent of the Atlanta. Con- stitution says: I was reading Wallace Reed’s pleasant reminiscences of Henry Grady in last Sunday’s paper, and it carried me back to the hard days when Henry was struggling against fate to make his paper a suc- cess. The merchants had not then learned the value of advertising, and Henry pleaded in vain for a more lib- eral patronage. A leading merchant who claimed to be his friend stubbornly declined to give him a big “ad.” and said it would be money thrown away for nobody read them. . “Don’t read them I” exclaimed Henry, "don’t read them! Well, I will show you.” , Next morning’s paper contained a short editorial on cats, and told how cat fur had recently come into great demandlin fashionable circles in New York, and how the long, coarse hairs were eliminated and the real fur was made into tippets and mufis, and every fashionable lady wore a feline, etc. N 0’: far ed in another column was a display advertisement that said: “Wanted—1,000 cats, for which 56 each cents will be paid.” The merchant’s name was signed to the “ad.” . ' i By noon the cats began to roll in. Small boys, white and black, brought them in baskets and bags. For awhile the merchant enjoyed the joke, but soon got tired and went away to- dinner. By the time he returned the boys and darkies frOm the suburbs were coming in, and the sidewalk was blockaded. Henry had laughed until he was ex- hausted, and sat on a window sill across the street, threatened, he said, with a cataleptic fit. Neighboring merchants and their clerks gathered around and laughed and shouted and cried at every new arrival of cats. As fast as the merchant drove off one crowd another filled their places. He armed himself with a big stick, but at last he closed his doors in sheer despair, and night relieved him from the pressure. But the next morning the catastrophe was worse. The catalogue was not ended, for the country people had heard the news and brought cats in on their wagons and under their buggy seats, and tied up in cotton baskets. like chickens. Henry took his stand near by, and leaned against a telegraph pole for support. He and the folk who loved fun were all there, and while it was fun to the boys and death to the frogs, it was such a rare and racy joke that the merchant couldn’t get mad, and finally surrendered. He made an appropriate little speech to the crowd, and told Henry that if he would prom- isernever to do so any more he would give him the biggest “as.” rhehad ever had in his paper. Henry promised, and the “ad.” was given. Human Nature in Conductors." ' The general impression in regard to the manners of the average street car conductor is that he has none. It is, therefore, not remarkable that during the meeting of the Christian Endeavor- ers in Boston the politeness of the con- ductors to the visitors attracted much attention. Not only were the visiting passengers civilly spoken to, but all their inquiries as to sights, locations, etc., were even politely answered, and the Endeavorers’ appreciation of Boston culture was thus immeasurably height- ened. One paper expressed the hope that the conductors would continue their urbanity after the departure of the guests. Another paper suggested that if Bostonians would imitate the manners of the pious young people from 'the four quarters of the globe they w0uld probably receive the same kindly attention. This is possibly near the truth. Another phase of street car conductors’ manners has been brought out in Montreal. The members of the street railway convention recently held ‘ in that city were much struck with the politeness and pleasing demeanor of the street car conductors, who were of French extraction, which was all the the more marked when compared with the roughness and ill nature of the Englsh Canadian conductors. contrast was spoken of to one of the officers of the street railway company, who replied: “Yes, we know it is so; but there is another side. to it. In winter, 'when the snow covers the tracks, and inter- ruptions are frequent. the Anglo- Saxon element comes out. At the first block- ade, the Frenchman smiles, shrugs his shoulders, and sits down to wait for help. But if the other chap gets stalled he pitches righs in and has the track cleared in no time. He is not gracious, but he is mighty useful in a snow— storm.” Hanoverian Etiquette. . 'One of the minute points of etiquette upon which the King of Hanover in sisted was that he wouldlnot receive visitors for a first presentation to him except in uniform. Sir Joseph Crowe had no uniform, . and he comments on “the fact that a King who was utterly blind could not see (sic) unless the per son he wished to honor was in uniform.” 'An American journaiist was once re fused an interview with the same King; on the same grounds; but he was ulti ' mately more successful, for, pleading that he was an American Republican. and therefore could not do .OtherWlSt than appear without a uniform, he was received, the King commenting himscli at the beginning of the interview upo: the special ground for the exception.— The Atheneum. ‘ She Had Reformed. Ethel—Molly told. me yesterday, Nell that you had resolved to give up talkin; slang. Nell—Yes, I have. I've thought i all over, and I’ve made up my mini. that even if the young men do seem t< like a girl whose talk is bright ant. slangy,when it comes to getting marriec she simply isn’t in it. 4‘- Somer rill Journal. The‘ . .. v I A WONDERFUL TALE OF CHAUNCEYQE He Admits Its Truth, Except in Four. “Minor” Points. _ I In denying a story concerning the 1 New York Central Railroad during last week, Chauncey M. Depew said ' that he had no more idea how the l story originated than he had how an 1 other story originated which was , printed all over Europe while he was i abroad recently. He said the story as. printed was as follows: ~ I “It was many years ago when Jenny Lind paid her historic visit to America. She was to sing in Albany, and tickets sold for a great price for those days. On the evening that she was to sing, just before going to the concert hall, a messenger boy brought her a telegram. She tOre it open, and the boy waited for an answer. She glanced up, and seeing that the boy was a brightcyed little fellow, asked him if he did not like music. He replied that he did. She then asked him if he would not like to hear her sing. He replied that he would, but that he did not have the money to buy a ticket. She was so taken with his bright face and general appearance that she gave him a ticket. Many years later, when the great diva was living quietly at home, after her retirement from the concert stage, a gentleman visited her in her beautiful European, home; he sent in his card, and in a few moments the great singer came out to meet him; he said to her: . “ ‘Do you remember; Some years ago upon your visit to America you gave a poor messenger boy a ticket to go and hear you sing in Albany?’ "The diva thought for a moment, and then recalled the incident clearly. Then the stranger replied feelingly: “ ‘I am that boy; I am Chauncey M. Depew. By diligence and devotion to duty I have made my way along in the world. 'I am now President of the Chi- cago and Northwestern Railroad. Al- ways in my struggle through life your voice, an angel voice it seemed to me, has rung in my ears and spurred me on to a better and nobler life. I owe all to you, for the pathetic pleading of your wonderful voice pierced my boy- ish heart and roused a. latent ambition to be worthy of such a friend. Today I come to tell you that to you I owe all that I am.’ “The great ‘man shed a tear, and she sympathetically grasped his hand and told him how glad she was that she had been an instrument in building up and ennobling such a grand nature. Then a beautiful and holy friendship sprang up between the greatest in the world of music and the greatest in the world of finance and literature and politics, that was only ended by her death.” “That was the story,” said Mr. De- pew, “as I heard it everywhere. Fi- nally the newspapers sent .men to me ‘fOr any version Of-the platonic attach- ment between myself and the famous singer. I said to them that the story was absolutely correct except in several minor points. In the first place, Inever was a messenger boy. In the second place, Inever saw Jenny Lind in Amen ica. Thirdly, I never saw her in Eu. rope, and in the fourth place I am not the ersident of the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad. Outside of that I admitted that the story was all true.” An Indian Dawn. The dawn in India is made noisy with the notes of birds, and the sounds of men and women astir. The daylight in all the occupations of the peasant is so precious that not a moment of it is wasted. Although some artisans, such as wood carvers and workers in metal labor in the evening by the-light of dim lamps, it is necessary for the farmer and the field laborer to rise with the first call of the kingcrow, as the East- ern sky begins to whiten. The smoke curls upward from every cottage, while the morning meal is pre- pared; the cattle are turned out of the yards and driven to the pasturage on the hills by a few naked children armed with sticks; figures are seen in the half light like ghosts, wrapped in white sheets, and gliding, the men one way, and the women another with brass pots in their hands, to the scenes of their usual ablutions. Some are squatting outside their huts cleaning out their mouths with finger and a piece of ham- boo, others smoking or “girding up their loins,” and twisting their turbans before starting out to work. L As the first rays of the sun gild the mango blossoms, all the men are'on their way, and unless it be a day for weeding the crops, or for gathering the harvest,when their presence is required in the fields, the women begin their daily task of cleaning the house, plast- tering the floor with cow dung, and sprinkling the threshold and portico with wood ashes in symbolic patterns. I'hen they start with the water vessels ind the children of the family for the tank or pool where they all wash both their bodies and clothes, and carry back water for household wants. Some, if they have leisure and substance, are carrying Offerings of fruit and rice to the temples of Devi or Lakshmi, where the bell is ringing out to attract, the faithful—Gentleman’s Magazine. The First American Flag. There seems at last a. reasonable cer- tainty that the Betsy Ross house will be, purchased and preserved in this city ; as a treasured historical relic. Many had feared that this quaint old building, where the sprightly widow, Betsy Ross, fashioned the first Ameri- can flag, would fall before» the march )f public improvements, because a few months ago Councils declined to ap- propriate money for its purchase. But Schuylkill Council of the Junior Order of American Mechanics made a move to acquire and present the building to the public, and sets a good example by pledging $1.000 toward the, necessary 525,000. This is not the first occasion on which this council has taken the ini- ' tiative in the performance of commend— able and patriotic work in this city.— years. Our plant at Providence is equipped with every device necessary to facilitate economical production: ' The best wOrkmen only are employed, and ‘thorOugh i ‘ attention is given to every detail of manufacture. We can always furnish the best stoves, ranges and fur? naces to be had. Were you ever sorry that'you paid a” good price for the best goods of a first-class business“ house? They always prove the cheapest in the end, There is a great difference in? Furnaces, and we , simply want you to carefully consider the -“ Bayg 'I c For good goods is the result of great painstaking for ) State ” before purchasing any other. Your local dealer can tell you all about ,.._...- "“3““: ’ ( them, or you can address us for / a catalogue—Free, of course. . g . ‘ 1% - , _ . . - ‘BARSTOW STOVE c semen? .k. ' Foundries—Providence, R. I. Boston Office-56 Union Street. .» QLQ " ' .9, ‘w A. T ._ '” A ”T ' ° ‘ 0 .‘1‘ o ,- _ . 3E @OOOO‘OOO an rumw‘ fellow is known throughout cycling as a light, staunch, stylish, speedy mount. There’s a best in every- thing; the ’96. Stcarns is" a veritable edition dc quc among bicycles. Finished in black or orange. teams riders are satisfied riders, and always proud as kings of their mounts. Your address will insure receipt of our hand- some new catalogue. ;: E. c. STEARNS & co., Makers, Syracuse, N. v. ' Trim BICYCLE “ANDOE QONTENIV \ San Francisco. Cal. Buffalo. N. Toronto, Ont. . ©90®®®®®®®®flp. H. R. BULKLEY & C0.. Agents, SOUTH NORWALK. Phi’adelphia Badger. . , . w ‘Towle Vault Light-Company, MANUFACTURERS. VAULT mums, SKYLIGHIS AND PATENT LIGHT sEsIch. - Factory: Office: 48: names AVENUE, .5. ELM smear, BROOKLYN. NEW YORK. - CboSen by the Government The War De artment p to test the bicycle for army use, and I recently asks: for pro for furnishing. bicycles for the purpose. Result: Bids from to $85 each for other machines; our bid of ' And the Govern- 5100 each for Columbus, their invadeblgpyml '- icycles STANDARI) ’OF THE WORLD. I! you ble to pay $2230 for The‘ex ”maiden. choice de- - a bicyclzf 0111:: be content with aded' thatColumbiaswereworth every f. anything but a Columbia ? dollar of the $100 asked for them. Beautiful Art Catalbgue of Columbia and Hartford, . Bicycles is free ifyoucall upon any , Columbia Agent; by mail from us for two a-cent stamps- . POPE MFG. co..- -;.Hartford, Conn. arms em. and Agencies in almo'et'ie'very} city and town. If Columbmgare not properly represented in you vicinity let. us lmow. . ,3 . "‘
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