STRANGE COLOR' PHOTOGRAPHS.
A Process in Which No Pigments or Col~
ored Washes are Used.
The London-‘. Times says a private
exhibition was given a day or two oago
.of some of the results obtained by the
new process of Color photography
which has been devised by a Cornish
man, Mr. Bennet’oo. The methods and
indeed the principle employed, remain
the secret of the inventor. and it is in‘
tended that they shall remain so until
several more details and applications
of the invention have been more fully
worked out. All that is at present
known is that the inventor. who has
been occupied with the subject for the
last eight years, claims to have'dis-
covered the first true and direct sys-
tem of coldr phOtography by which
can be transformed to a photographic
negative and thence printed on glass
or paper the exact natural colors of
the object toward which the camera
has been directed. He employs no
pigments, his plates have not to be
washed with various colored solu-
tions, and it is not necessary to view
his pictures through anycombinations
of tinted glasses. The colors are im-
printed on the plate just as are the
light and- shade in an ordinary mono-
chrome photograph and are directly
‘ visible to the eye. It may be men-
tioned that Mr. Bennetto in his earli«
est experiments could get no effects
with a less exposure than three min-
utes; now he is able to work with ex-
posures of sixteen: seconds.
Whatever may have been the meth-
ods used. the pictures produced by
them attain a. high standard of excel-
lence. One of the best specimens
shown was a study of a sunrise, ta-
ken early one morning in the middle
of June, 1895, in which the'fiery orange
of the dawn and the heavy masses of
clouds were admirably represented:
The clouds, again, were excellent in a
typical picture of Cornish seashore
scenery, and the tints of the sand and
rocks and their reflections in the pools
were faithfully reproduced. On 'the
other hand. in some pictures flowers
were rather lacking in lustre. Possi-
bly this is a question of exposure.
Perhaps the picture which best illus-
trated the capabilities of the process
was onc' of a champagne bottle stand-
ing on a white tablecloth and sur-
rounded with various fruits. Here
there were three' or four different
whites which were all distinguishable,
but which it would probably have
taxed the powers of any artist to rep-
rcsent by painting. The gold foil on
the bottle was exactly rendered, and
it was possible to tell that it was full
by the prismatic gleam of the liquid.
”The oneunsatisfactory. thing in the
picture was a spoon, whose sparkle
was quite lost; it looked as if it might
have been made of cardboard, covered
with dull silver paper. The inventor
_ looks forward, among other things, to
'1evolutionizingby. this process the i1-
lustration of books and magazines, and
hopes to show in the future how to
1111511 a picture on a screen so that a
permanent copy may be left behind.
Desired tobe Taken at a Reduction.
A man who had been fined several
times for drunkenness coolly proposed
10 the justice to take him by the year
at a reduced rate.
Ensumption
reaps
his richest HALE’S
h t
3”“ . 1101151
Where dis-
cases of
the throat RQREHWN.
“and lungs AN"
are neglected. Tag
If you have ever tried Hale' 5 Honey of
Horehound and Tar you know what 2.
11111111: is against throat and lung
tron lcs Sold by druggists.
Pike’ 3 Toothache Drops cure in one minute.
Specia‘. m Healers cfi ’“his l’uper. '
. Stud this “ad. ' and In
. - :% Cents 111 stamps and we
,1 1%, \1111 11121113011 l-4lb. of
< “3 ‘. any kind of Tea you
1 may select the best' 1m.
1', ported. Good Teas and
. Coffees. 250. per lb. We
willsend51bs. ofFINE
FAMILY TEAS on receipt of this ad. " and $2 200 All
charges paid (S. 1..)
THE GREAT AMERICAN TEA CO.,
3! and 33 Vesey St., N. Y.. P. 0. Box 289.
Horace E. Dann.
awn-moron
L1 verv and Sales Stable.
uw-u‘ouu' -vus‘vhd‘
Opposite Dunbar-y and
Norwslk Bulrond depot'
sorwalk. Donn. Stylish
Single or Double Term 5
' with or without drivers'
Safe horses for women
cndohildron. .
SADDLE HORSES A 3°30 |AL1Y
WOOD! SP LIGHT PABOEva EaBnd
Locx W_'ll 1 t CKkAGEd DE fL
hon. rates. 1 11.30 a. e or ers orv mesY.
91.111513“ service in New York. Goods called
for and delivered to all parts of the town
Orders received at. E P.W Weed's Drug Store
W111Streamwithtelephoneconnection un-
.30 c n LOCKWOOD.
J. D. Jennings.
UNDERTAKER
Opposite
Street Railway Depot-
N.lGH1’ BELL AT OFFICE.
' seen in disorder. ,
I-Tnnn’v'nnrno o‘Azn
ADVICE.
Cheer up chillnn, an’ movc ynh feet!
Doan’ ack glum ter do folks yo‘h meet,
Er smile s ez easy 8:! a sigh.
An’ it’s no mo‘ wuhk fob ter laugh dan cry.
50 get in step wif de huI-"ry 1n throng '
Stid u’ mopin’ erlong.
When do bother comes an’ yoh chance seems
1111(1,
Yoh makes it wuss ef yolr face gets sad.
'Casc it stwnds ter reason er hard— luck tale
\\ h 1 11 it comes ter w innin’ yer friends will
1’ .111
So brush yoh gyahmcnts an’ hum or song.
Stid o‘ mopin’ erlong. ,
—Washington Star.
THE PASTOR’S STORY.
The clergyman was a very prudent
man. and feared to tell anything which
might bring him trouble; then he had
such a sense of honor that he was not
willing to say anything that could be
construced into a violation of confi-
deuce.
had been described by the parties
themselves, and the particulars were
known in the town-where he formerly
resided. he thought he might without
impropriety tell a party of other
clergym-en the story of old Doctor Ben-
jamin Tillotson, who, burying three
wives, engaged himself to the only
daughter of a rich farmer living some
three miles from a certain village.
Miss Maria. Cutting had arrived at
the age of maturity, and as far as
years were concerned was a fitting
companion for the man who had been
obliged to mourn so much since, twen-
ty years before, he had married his
first wife. Doctor Benjamin Tillotson,
as he was named in the papers—but
“old Doc Ben” in the stores, behind his
back—was a man who was careful to
have his speech, deportment, dress and
character correct. He was as straight
as an arrow—six feet and two inches
in height—and when he moved along
the street his walk was as measmed
as his language.
He desired to be strictly obedient to
all the proprieties. He always lifted
his hat to the ladies whom he met. At
a dinner party he sat erect, and told
his two or three stories in great detail
and in true Johnsonian style. He had
the greatest admiration for the learned
Doctor Johnson, and regretted the
sharp, b1isk, newsy address of the day,
and was as furious as his calm exte1ior
11 ould pe1mit when any preacher
bordered on pleasantry
l\ot1\1tl1stan(un1r his adherence to
old customs and manners he w as a
most skillful physician. He travelled
far and wide, and whether seen by
night or by day sat erect, holding his
reins tightly. and was never taken at
a disadvantage by even. the most spirit
ed of his horses.
Once he was thrown out of his sleigh
in passing through a snowdrift; his
body even then was not thrown into
hopeless confusion,’ but maintained its
accustomed posture, and as his lro-rs‘es
were well trained, he never was obliged
to lose his dignity.
He shaved every morning at break of
day. and smoothed his hair so careful-
1y and mysteriously that it was never
His black broad
cloth suit never had a‘ particle of dust
011 it when he was seen in church, 01'
when, after a long trip, he entered the
house of a patient. He
late in dress, ceremonivous in man.,ne1'
measured in speech, and attentive to
the sick.
Maria Cutting's father was an old
gentleman somewhere between eighty
and ninety years of age, and was in
constant need of medical assistance]
so that Doctor Tillotson was a fre
quent visitor at the "Lodge,” the home
of the Cuttings. Maria was a very par-
ticular housekeeper, and a good man-
ager of the large estate. Since the
death» of her mother and the infirmity
of her father, not only did she attend
to the running of the house, but to the
affairs of the dairy and the invest-
ments, all of which were well man-
aged.
She was a pronounccd lady in wait-
ing—an “unappropriated blessing,” as
she loved to call herself. She once said
that as Doctor Tillitson was married,
this fact precluded her from marrying
'the only man she ever admired enough
to be willing to take as a husband.
\l'heu the doctor became a widower
for the third time, Maria‘s admira-
tion for him seemed to grow less. She
said to an intimate friend that she
could never accept a man, however
much she respected and even loved
him, whose alfecti'ons had been given
to so many women. and whose heart
must be beautifully small for the
fourth.
The sudden death of her father, and
the doctor‘s genuine svmpathy, shown
her amid her grief, placed \Iaria in a
peculiar position, and set her to serious
thinking. She came to the conclusion
that if the doctor proposed she would
accept him. since her loneliness after
her father’s death could not be en-
(lured.
She needed advice in many matters,
and so consulted the trusted physician
~the friend of the family—and one
wise in worldly matters, and a strict
member of the church. The doctor
was very prudent in his attentions to
Maria until he discoveredher feelings
toward him. The courting must have
been ponderous, and the proposal ex-
pressed in the rotundest English.
The doctor now and then was seen
with a covered buggy, as he travelled
on the road which led to'the Lodge,
and some sharp— ey ed persons reported
that Maria occasionally accompanied
him as he went beyond her house to
make p1ofessional visits .
Rumors began to sp1ead of an en‘
gagcmcnt between Maria. and the doc-
tor. I was not, therefore. surprised
when, one evening, he called upon me
and announced that he intended to
take another companion, one worthy
in every respect to follow the departed
as a member of his households The
lady 11110.11ad honored him with he!
As however, a certain wedding.
able town,
.of roses and smilax,
was immacu-,
coll? tio 1.1
hand and heart, and-though not young
could not be considered old, and was
‘ therefore suitable for his spouse.
The wedding was to take place in
the near future at the “Lodge,” which
would be kept as a summer house. He
desired that everything he done de-
cently and in order. At his request I
promised to introduce into the wed-
ding ceremony one or two features
which he very much desir.ed He called
several times afterw and to be sure ethat
I understood him. He wanted a sort
of invocation after the usual questions
had been asked and the replies made.
This brief prayer, invoking grace and
strength from on High to rest upon the
two, was to be concluded by “Amen,”
and then the two were to be declared
married, by the use of the. common
formula. A prayer with a benediction
were to conclude the service.
’ The marriage day arrived. Maria
made arrangements to have the best
reception ever given in. the fashion-
the scene of so many tri.
umpirs. She did not spare expense,
saying that as she expected to be mar-
ried but once in her life, and the doc-
tor might draw comparisons between
this and his other weddings, she
wished to out-do anything he had ex-
perienced in this line. ‘
The house on the wedding day was 1
splendidly decorated. All of the peo-
ple in society—especially the doctor’s
patients—we1e present. Maria was al-
way s a little peculiar in her tastes and
independent in her actions, and refused
to be governed by ordinary rules.
The doctor’s face was even cleaner .
than usual, his hair smoother; his new
black suit was perfect, and having
added to his costume a white crav-at,
a pair of white gloves and patent
leather shoes, he looked haudsomer
and statelier than ever.
One thing Maria insisted on as her
particular choice in the ceremony. She
must kiss her husband first, and after
this he could kiss her.
As the two stood in a corner of the
large drawing room under the arbor
they looked as;
well as any whose knot I had been
permitted to tie. Maria, in spite of
her determination to appear quiet,
was, to my practised eye, somewhat
nervous, and her manner indicated
that her mind was a t1ifie confused, as
she was once or twice on the point of
saying something.
She was quieted by the doctor, who
had, as stated, enough experience in
the wedding line to make him not as
a veteran in the service.
“Maria,” he whispered,
yourself at this critical time.”
The rich heiress—the most independ-
ent woman in all the country, who de-
spised weakness in her sex—was
brought to a deep sense Of her feeble-
ness timing the ceremony, when the
1esoonsibility of her new relation to
the docto1 began to dawn upon her.
The pa1t which “old Doc” had insert-
ed, and which was his pride, became
a great rock of shame and confusion
to him from which he did did not re-
cover for years. No sooner had I end-
ed the invocation of which mention
has been made, and said amen, when
Maria, in her added confusion at the
doctor‘s reprimand, thought the ser‘
vice was over and put her old resolve
into execution. Throwing her arms
round the doctor‘s neck, she was not
content to give him one kiss, but in-
sisted, in spite of his mild protesta-
tions, in bestowing on him a dozen
embraces.
The guests could not suppress their
laughter. I was utterly unable to pro-
ceed seriously. Shutting my eyes I
pronounced them husband and wife.
and then, with all my suppressed
laughter asserting itself in voice and
manner, I congratulated the bride and
groom, telling them that this was the
happiest occasion of my life.
The radiant smiles of the guests
adorned their faces all through the
Maria was happily uncon-
sc 101‘s then of 11.01 e1"'101. while the doc-
t‘nough too polite to show anger,
and too much under self- control to
manifest chagrin, was nevertheless
.- pulite, and more than. ever
{plcycd the biggest words and used
He drew me
“compose
tiJ‘l,
(-11
the ”longest sentences.
aside and said:
"My dear pastor, I trust that our
nun-tied life may not be presaged by
the event of today. and interruptions
of an inappropriate nature be inserted
into the rule of 0111' lives. Though la-
1111-ntiug that our plans, so carefully
...... nus-carried at the very apex of
my harpiness. I have such confidence
in dear Maria‘s love and good sense,
shown on ordinary occasions, that I
confidently look into the future, be-
lieving that in our household we shall
ever have harmonious relations, since
the agitation incident to a wedding
service is exceptional, and not an in}
tegral part of life’s usual duties.”
Having unbosomed himself in. this
way, the doctor entered into the joys
of the day as best he could, and Ma‘
ria and he lived happily together af-
terward, with much music and little
disco-rd. in their lives.
“’hen a Pope Dies.
Thereis-a‘strange and striking cerer
monialflby which the Vatican authori-
ties assure themselves that :1 Pope is
dead. The Cardinal Chamberlain ap‘
proacbes the bed of ‘the dead Ponrtiff,
and bears in his hand a little silver
hammer. He prostrates himself before
the bed, and calls the dead man. three
times, not by his name 'as Pope, but by
the name that was given him at his
baptism. Then he touches him lightly
on the forehead three times with the
hammer.
The silence which follows this
peal by voice and by touch is 'final
proof that he who makes no answer to
it is beyond its reach. After this for-
mality, the Cardinal announces to the
waiting priests that the We 1....
ceased to live—Golden Days.
{11.1%
one am glad to return to my
.wouldn’t act light,
er.”——l\'ew York World;
THE. BicYCLE rec.
\Ylieeling is Not Cunducivo to Graceful
Dancing and is Commended h-y some.
Expert wheelwomen as Weft as be
giuners are burnishing their 1*. heels
preparatory for the summer. The. bi-
cycle dealers are as busy as beesin
honey-making time, and, although
they do 'not expect to do such a vast
business as they did last year, they
expect the trade to increase from this
time on. These are merely straws
showing that the bicycle season is on
The wheelwomen seem delighted to
turn once more to their favorite pas-
time. For two weeks little knots oi
them have gathered and discussed
wheels and wheeling. A rest seems
to have whetted their appetites for
bicycle talks as well as runs.
"Bicycling beats dancing, and i 1‘01
second
love,” announced a dainty inciting
girl in an imported suit.
“Of course- it beats dancing; but
why do you any second love?” asked
a plump "on“ ette.
"011, I danced before 1
wheeled," she answered.
( L. 3.33/5
* ;§s £sz
v: \fi“ 5
“a = SM ‘
Count that. day lost. whose low descending sun
Hath not beheld at least a ten-mile r1111.
“For my part, I’ve learned one thing
this winter,” said an athletic girl in a
short skirt and a red sweater. “I’ve
got to give up either dancing or wheel‘
ing. It’s impossible for me to dc
both.”
“The same here,” put in three other
girls.
“What on earth h-asubicycling got to
do wnth dancing?” queried the bru-
nette. “You dance in winter; you
wheel in summer. Why they should
interfere with one another I can’t see.
Of course. I didn’t learn to ride until
last fall, and—”
“That’s the very reason you don‘t un-
derstand why we must stop dancing,"
interrupted the athletic girl. “You
see, we’ve developed, the bicycle leg.”
“The bicycle leg,” repeated the bru-
nette, aghast. “What is it? I’ve heard
of the bicycle face, the bicycle back,
the bicycle brain and the bicycle voice,
but the bicycle leg is new to me. Tell
us about it.”
“We’ve got it,” put. in three others.
“And you’ll get it if you ride much,"
said the athletic girl with a. malicious
laugh. “It attacks women riders a
great deal oftener than it does wheel-
men," she continued, “probably be-
cause their muscles are more vulner-
able tbau those of a' man. I never
rode much 'until last summer, and
didn't notice that my legs had been af‘
fectcd by it at all until the dancing
season opened. The muscles of my
legs seemed to remain stiff all the
evening the first dance I attended,
and I was really uneasy, for I thought
I‘d contracted rheumatism. My legs
and I couldn’t ma-
nipulate my feet or make them go.
My partners glared. at me, and none
of them came forward for a second
turn, so I pleaded a headache and
went home. I' was puzzled, but I
didn‘t say anything to anyl‘ody. for l‘d
always had the reputation of being,r a
fine dancer. It was the same thingnt
the next dance, and the next and the
next, and at last it dawned upon me
that I had the bicycle lcg.” '
“I had the very sameexperience,"
testified another enthusiast. "I, 1‘00,
used to be considered a pretty good
dancer but since I’ve been riding a bi-
cycle I'm no longer a desirable part-
ne1."
"Why.
legs so
dance?”
how does wheeling affect thr-
as to make it i1npossibleto
asked a novice. '
"Well, it seems we have two sets of
muscles in our legs." explafined '.hU
athletic girl. “One we use in all kinds
of graceful exercise such as dancing
and Delsarte movements, and the oth-
ers are used for work. Pushing the
pedals develops these working mus-
cles, and the others are overcome, and
when you attempt to do the graceful
not you are about as graceful as a
cow would be. The preachers who op-.
pose dancing would find a good argu-
ment in favor of the wheel as a moral
agency right along this line. Dancing
is unquestionably a form of dissipa-
tion; if bicycling does away with that
pastime, it will certainly do more than
moralists have ever been able to ac-
complish, and I' believe in time that: it
will. If wheelwomen find out that
they have to give up one or the other.
I predict the abandonment of danc-
ing.” ‘
“And I predict the abandonment of
the wheel." put in a man who came up
in time to hear the . last remark.
“Wheeling is a fad with women.
They won’t stick to it, especially if it
interferes with their dancing. In an-
other twelve months they will have
forgotten that they ever rode a bicy-
cle.”
A valuable Man.
“We pay our minister $2 .100 a yeirf'
“Ours gets $4. 000. "
“Has he ever been tried for heies) ‘1"
“No. but he says eyether and nylh-
T '1' hi
CAKE OF TOILET SOAP EN EVERY PACKAPGE.
A BABY’S HAT.
0f Pale Green Velvet, Which is llIore Sult-
able Than \Vhite Headgear.
Infants’ .hats have been so exclu-
sively of white material during the
past ten years that it is a great relief
to see a return to the brighter colors
that were formerly in vogue. A most
charming little hat is of pale green
olivevelvet. The hat was made by a
A NORM ANDIE HAT.
Washington establishment for thi
small child of Secretary Lamont. It
was sent home a short time ago, and
only yesterday the little one was seen
in its baby carriage on one of the av-
enues with this hat upon its head.
The top is of apeculiarpattern, turned
back, in quaint Normandie style.
The only trimming is a double bunch
of creme mousseline d-e soie at the
sides, and over the cars is another
bunch of the same goods. Plain
cream velvet streamers are tied under
the chin.
The cloak that was to be worn with
this was of olive green velvet to match
the hat, and profusely trimmed with
cream-colored ribbon and eiderdown.
The lap robe was cream—colored. mak-
ing a very pretty. outfit for any baby.
HIS FEARFUL TEMPER.
The Poor Bishop Had Never Bel‘o e lino“ 11
Himself to be So Violent.
Early in Bishop Wilberforce's epis-
copate he was travelling from Paris
dington to Oxford in one of (the double
first-class compartments ‘of the Great
Western Railway. His compartment
was occupied by himself alone, the
other by two gentlemen, both strangers
to him. The bishop was, according to
custom, writing letters. his hat in the
netting, his head covered with a most
unepiscopal .skull-cap, so that no one
unacquainted with his features would
suspect him of being a bishop. Ere
long, with that quickest of hearing
With which all who knew him intimate-
ly were familiar, he caught his own
name as being the subject of discus-
sion in the adjoining compartment.
“Wonderful man, the Bishop of Ox-
ford!” said one speaker. “Yes,” said
the other. “But what a terrible stum-
bling-block that tempér of his!” “Tem-
per!" was the response. “I’v ve never
board of it. Pray explain!” “Why,”
replied the former.‘ "the1e is an awful
fury which seizes him at times; and
in his house at Cuddcsdon there are
recesses made in the passages and in
the walls of the staircase, so that, if
any of his children meet him when the
[it is on, they may take refuge in time
to avoid him.” Upon this the bishop.
leaning forward and speaking through
the open window between the com-
partments, said, “Gentlemen, I have
accidentally overheard your conversa-
tion. Now I spend more time probably
with the Bishop of Oxford in' his house
than any other living man, and per-
haps know more of his faults, of
which, no doubt, there are many. But
I think I am bound to tell you that this
description of temper is not one of
them; if it had been, I must have
known it.” The gentlemen bowed and
thanked him. Nevertheless,” he sat
back again, the bishop overheard the
first speaker whisper to the other,
“Just so. That is the way all his
friends talk. Nevertheless it is per-
fectly true." ..- ,.
A Child’s Letter.
“Dear father, we are all well and
happy The baby has grown ever so
much, and has a great deal more
sense than he used to have. Hoping
the same of you, I remain your daugb ,
ter \[ollie.”—Tid- -Bits.
"CURSE—NT“COME'E'NT. . _‘
The President has found a refugr I ‘
from the office-seekers, .but it is only
available on Sunday. They will fol'
low him'to the church door, but. 110‘
inside.
A' prominent citizen of Boston re
ports that he went to the inauguration
and did not see a single intoxicated
person during all the time he was 111'
Washington. But, to speak BostoneSe
the absence of such vision may be duc
to position, condition, omission or in
disposition.
.It is evident that stroug pressure
will be brought to bear upon .Presiden: '
McKinley to alter the rules governing
the classified civil service so as to
throw open to the spoiis-seekers cer‘
tain ofiices brought within the pr’ovi?
sions of the merit system during the
term of President Cleveland.
Important movements are in pro
gress in New York and Chicago for
the regulation of theheight of build
ings. An ordinance has been passeC
by the Chicago Council, and now
awaits the Mayor’s action, limiting
the height of buildings in that city t:
90 feet. The limit under the presem
ordinance is 155 feet.
Yellow journalism is having rather
a hard run at present, being thrown
out of clubs and libraries right and
left, with scant ceremony or polite,
ness, in fact, with none at‘ all. The
directors of these institutions unite’
with an immense and growing num=
. bcr of'other people in considering its
conduct as contrary to morals anc‘
public policy. It is’ apparent that it
must mend its ways or its swaggering
rhetoricians will soon be barking tc
empty benches.
So seldom does a man live up to his
ideal, or a commonwealth to its morn.7
professions, that the congratulations
of the country are due to the State (:1
Nevada. Consistency has there set 111;
its center of gravity, anchored to the
utmost limit of public debasement
Having legalized prize fighting and
thus defied the public sentiment and
the laws of every other state on this
subject, Nevada proposes now by ad-
ditional legislatiou to confer a most
flattering testimonial of its regard up
on the successful brute in the Cor-
bett-Fitzsimmons combat.
Secretary Sherman. it is reported,
has been laying down the law about
American rights in Cuba in a style
that chagrins Minister De Lome. He
is said to have told the Spanish Min-
ister that Americans arrested in Cuba
must have a fair trial, according tc
the terms of our treaty with Spain,
and that Spain must abandon the dis-
tinction she now makes between
American and English suspects.
whereupon De Lome is reported to
have said that he might as well go '
home. His home government cen-
sures him for yielding too much to the
Ame1ican demands, and the Ameri
can Administration demands still
‘ more.
According to the statement of Pro-
fessor Felix Adler, Miss Frances “’11-
lard wants to vote “for the sake of
promoting the nationalization of busi.
mess, the abolition of representative
government, the enactment of prohib-
itory laws and the free coinage of'sil-
ver,” a declaration of principles calcu-
lated to invite the union of persons
'who in general are in violent opposi
tion to each other. If she were en.
dowed with the ballot and empow-
ered to work up a crusade on the lines
indicated, she would soon find herself _
at the head of 11 political sect more
curious than useful, pulling all 11117.2:
like a newly-yoked pair of Accomacl;
steers. ‘
A Mmlimlmess.
Near a certain Scotch town the rail-
way runs for some distance by the
fence of a lunatic asylum. Not long
ago some workmen were busy repair-
ing the railroad, when an inmate of
the asylum approached one of~the la«
borers, and. from his position on the
inner side of the enclosure, began a
somewhat personal conversation. In-
mate: “Hard work that!” Laborer:
'Troth an' it is'" Inmate. “Whit pay
dae ye git?” Laborer: “Sixteen bob a
w eek.” Inmate. “Are ye mairrit?”
Laborer: “I am, worse luck—and have
six childrenl", A pause: then the
Inmate added ' sententiously, “I’m
thinking. ma’am, ye’re 011 the wrang
side 0' the fence!"
_._
THE ORIGINAL
Stamped fl Boss I!
.. /
Always the Same
Norwalk Chronicler