\. "h ~“\
Eu ..
, E... E E EE 1. E E
E Eznrrr E
BOUND TO BE SKINNED.
f‘The Refouned Gambler Says Egotisn
“Weeks Good Men.
“I tell jou,” oc<la1cu the reformed
gambler, t'hat there are
country who insist. upon being swim.
,(Zled. Nine out of ten 0f the men who
are caught know that they are going
up against some kind of a bunco game
They have read all about it, but it 11
the infernal egotism of the average
man that leads him into the trap. He
knows that others have been caught,
but he‘s too smart for anything of that
kind, don’t you see.
“I was at a county fair in Iowa ex-
posing the tricks of gamblers. My
grafe was in selling a little, book that
Ihad on the subject. There was 2
pretty lively gang there from a back
township, and when I showed then:
how. the shell trick was done. om
big fellow insisted that he could lo
cate the elusive pea and was bound to
bet on the proposition. I told him that
I “was out of the business, but that he
was mistaken. Then they set up a
cry that I was a fraud and afraid oi
my own game. I went over the whole
thing again, and showed how they
were fooled, but I must give the fellow
a chance 01' they would wreck my
whole outfit.
" 'At last, just to save myself, I lei
- him put up his money, and tendered it
back to him after I had won. Then it
took three other men to keep him fi‘om
whipping me because I took him for a
squealcr. One or two others insisted
on having a try at it, and never turned
a hair because of their losses. When
it came to three-card monte, it was
the same. Each of alf a dvzen men
was sure that he co (1 pic "‘ he card,
and, despite warning, would: have a
try at it, and Some of them' two or
three times. When they'were cleaned
out there went up a howl that I was
the rankest kind of fraud, and they
chased me three miles into the coun‘
try before it waes dark enough for me
to cscape.”—Detroit‘Free Press.
ii... a"'ck Slioeniaking.
0110. of the big Lynn shoe shops made
a pub of ladies’ boots for the Paris Ex-
position of 1889‘ in twenty-four min-
utes. A notary public followed the
operation, watch in hand. For this
feat the pair of shoes went through
the usual routine of the shop, but at
exceptional speed.
Since that time the division of labor
upon a'pair of shoes has become still
greater, and there is a larger number
of machines employed, with the result
that a pair of ladies’ boots can be
made complete in this factory inside of
twenty minutes. ’
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throat and lung troubles. These pleas-
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WINS
vented much sickness Price 250.
Improved Homoeopathic Home Remedy
Company put up a separate cure for each
disease. At all druggists, mostly 25
. cents. Guide to Health free.
Personal letters to Prof. Munyon,1505
Arch street, Philadelphia, Pa, answered, ;
with free medical advice for any disease.
the ghastly terror 3
of con- ’
sumption HALE S
stares .a EMFEY
man in
' HBHEHflilNI
the
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ct rid of a cough or
ale’ 5 Honey. of Horo-
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cts a cold.
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Pike’s Toothache Drops cure in one minute.
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M ill se
FAMILY TEAS on receipt of this “ad. " and 32. All
charges paid. (8. L.)
THE GREAT AMERICAN mi co. ., ,
31 and 33 Vesey 51., N. v., P. 0. Box 289. -3
DAVID 'W. RAYMOND
Funeral Director iii 11111111131
39’ Washingmn Street South Norwalk
Residence. Mahauknmn Hotel.
LocKwnofl! LIGHT PARCEL and
CKAGE DELIVERY
Cho‘ap rates. Will alPso take orders for mes-
nouger service in New York. Goods called
for and delivered to all arts of the town
uders received at E P.. eed’ 3 Drug Store
Wall Street. with telephone connection un-
‘3° 0 E LOCKWOOD.
J. D. Jennings.
UN D ERTAKER
Opposite
Street Railway Depot.
Md gr 3111;; 41' 0111103.;
people in this ‘
121' MRS.
A. H. MARKHAM.
CHAPTER III ":1; i'Fi-el '
Tenderly laying her on a sofa, he
:losed the window and bolted the shut-
tors, not, however, without examinimr
the 100m first to see if anybody had
gained an entrance, and then procecd d
to administer restoratives to his un-
conscious wife. For some time his
efforts were unavailing, but at length,
to his great relief, she heaved a deep
sigh and opened her eyes.
“Are you better, darling?” he said,
eagerly, bending over her.
“Yes, dear,” she said, smiling. "I-
am quite all right. But,” she contin-
ued, looking round, “why am I here?
What has happened? Ahl” she said,
shuddering, “my memory is 1"etu1ning
—I remember it all. That awful face
at the window. Thank goodness it is
shut. Did you see him, Bryan?” she
asked, pointing to the window.
“No, darling; tell me all about it,”
he replied. “Are you sure it is not all
imagination?”
“Imagination!” she answered.
“Would to Heaven that it was. Your
life, as well as that of your child, was
in danger thi sevening,” and then, in
short, disjointed sentences, she related
all she had seen.
,“Thank God,” breathed Sir Bryan,
“that the miscreant’s heart failed him,
foiled apparently by your courage and
presence of mind. Violet—my own
dear wife, I cannot even now realize
that your life, so precious to me,
should have been in such danger, and
that I, though near, was powerless to
avert it.”
Seeing that she had received a ter-
rible fright, he endeavored to divert
her thoughts by turning the conversa-
tion to some commonplace subjects re-
garding the household and other triv-
ial matters, then gently taking her by
the hand, he led her quietly up to the
nursery, where together they bent over
the crib in which their little child was
peacefully slumbering, and gazed upon
its sweet face as it lay ensconced in
the softest and whitest of pillows.
“I-Iow beautiful she looks,” mur-
mured the mother, as she twisted one
of the silky, golden curls round her
finger. The troubled look vanished
from her face as she leaned over the
cot, and a placid, contented expression
took its place. Seeing this, Sir Bryan
stole away quietly, in order to make
sure that the door was well fastened
and everything secure before retiring
for the night.
It was a beautiful summer morning,
and the rays of the newly- -risen sun
stealing into the nursery windows, lin-
gered lovingly on the small bed and
on the bright, rosy face of little Dot.
This had the effect of wakening her,
and rising up she exclaimed, in her
pretty, lisping manner: “Is dat zoo,
Bridgy?”
' “Yes, me darlint, it’s me, sure
enough. I’ve come to dress you, so get
11D.”
To take her out of bed and dress her
little charge did not take Bridget ve1 y
long. “Now, little one,” said the nurse,
.“l’m that busy to—day, that I shan’t
have much time to look after ye, so
just take your breakfast to --wanst, dar-
lint.”
; “Tan’ t I do and say dood morning to
muvver first?” exclaimed Dot, in some
surprise, for it was new to her to be
given her breakfast without her cus-
toniaiy morning’s kiss.
: “No, mavourneen,” replied Bridget;
“your swate mother is not very well
this morning, and she is asleep now.
God bless her. But later on your ould
[Bridget will take you in for a few
minutes.”
1 “Muvver not well—muvver not want
Dots kiss?" she exclaimed, puckering
up he1 little month, while tea1s began
to dim her otherwise bright little
eyes.
1 “011, don’t take it to heart, the
beauty; just ate your breakfast, like
the good little child ye are, and then
you shall run out into the garden. and
Bridget will bring you some bread
and butter at about eleven o'clock.
f-NOW be good this morning, da‘rlint, and
‘don’t stray fai away, because I have
to take some food to the poor, starv-
ling craythurs out yonder whose littlo
{childr—en ale dying for the want of
bread and praties.”
By this time Dot had partially re
covered from the disappointment of
not seeing her mother, and listened
.breathlessly to all that Bridget was
saying about the poor folks in the
neighborhood. At length she said,
,“Oh, pease, take Dot too, dear old
’nurse, and take Dot’s bread and butter
,for the poor ’ittle children; I’se so
solly for them.”
i “I’m afraid I cannot take you to the
‘village teday, me little beauty," re
plied Bridget; “the men there are vely
rough, especially to the quality, and
your father does not like you to go
near them, and indade he does not
wish you to lave the garden.”
“Oh, velly well!” said Dot, who Was
always accustomed to do exactly a1
she was bid. “I will go out now—come
along. Nannie, dear,” and pushing;
away her plate, she jumped down
from her chair, and seizing Bridget by
the hand, dragged her out into the gar
den.
“’Fore you go away. Nan, tan’t you
tell me where dad is?”
"011. he went away early this _morn
ing, inc pet, but he moight be in f0]
. greater
front of her.
iunch—now run away, me'darlint, and
play,” and, kissing the child, 'Bridgei
hurried into the house. 11'
Dot wandered about amidst the
flowers and shrubs for some time
singing as she was wont to do softly
to herself in her pretty, childlike way
looking like a delicate exotic, suddenly
transplanted amidst the other rare ana
beautiful floWers that grew around
her. As she tripped gaily among thi
beds, plucking the flowers here ané
there, she fashioned for herself a rear
baby uosegay, and although thi
flowers were- tied together in asomo
what rude and awkward manner, be
little posy was very beautifhl in he
eyes, for was it not intended for her
dear mother?
Dot’s little mind was very busy this
lovely summer morning; her curios-
ity and pity had been awakened by her
nurse’s remarks relative to the poor
children in the village, and in a vague
way she thought perhaps when Brid—
get brought her the promised slice of I
bread and butter, it would be such a
real pleasure to her to give it to some-
one who was far more inneed of it
than she was herself. It must be re-
membered that she was only six years
of age, and had never been in want
of anything during the whole course of
her young life. ,
Suddenly a richly colored butterfly
flew lazily by, stopping occasionally to
rest itself on some flower. “latching
"the gaudy insect as it fluttered about
had the effect of directing her thoughts
from the channel into which they had
been flowing, and she followed it to—
wards the river which ran at the bot-~
tom of the garden.
At this moment one of the servants
came out, bringing her a small mug
cf milk and a large slice of bread and
jam. This was a repl treat to Dot.
for, like most children, she was im-
moderately fond of jam, but before
partaking of it she commissioned the
servant to take back to her mother
the bunch of flowers she had culled.
with the message that as Dot could
not have a kiss that morning, she had
plucked the flowers for her, as she
knew “Muvver loves pretty flowers.”
Left alone, she regarded the bread
and jam with wistful eyes; and
thought perhaps Bridget had sent it to
her to compensate for her disappoint-
ment in the morning. Then she thought
again of all her nurse had told her
about the poor children in the village,
and although she was sorely tempted
to eat the delicious piece of bread and
jam she heldin her hand, she had a
inclination to give it to the
poor, half-starved wretches of whom
she had heard.
- “I know what I shall do,” said little
Dot to herself: “I will just taste it
and shall keep the rest for the poor
little children,” so putting the morsel
to her pretty little mouth she took a
small bite out of it, which she enjoyed
very much indeed. “Now,” she re«
flected, “I’ll keep the rest for the poor
children, and perhaps I sall see some
man to give Lit to who will take it to
them.
E. as ('41
' ' I _ ’i/H
w fl/fléfrs’r I .
4/, 9110?] 1‘/
" ‘ 1 511 nor,’ SHE ANSWERED."
‘ With this resolve in her mind she
put the bread and jam on a seat that
VWi'lS near, and ran down the path
through the garden leading to the
river. On reaching the bank Dot again
saw the pretty butterfly that had be-
fore attracted her attention fluttering
over a dark red poppy.
“How bootiful zu are.” she said.
“Don’t_move, zu petty sing, I won’t
hurt zu. I only want to look at zu a
’ittle closer,” but as she tripped up to
the flower and bent her flushed little
face over it to get a nearer view of the
butterfly, it ' rose and flew swiftly
across the river. “011, zu unkind sing,"
said Dot, pouting her little lips, “to
run away from me like zat. I’se ’ter-
mined to'see zu," so holding on tight
to the low rail of the little bridge by
means of which the river was crossed,
she carefully wended her way over
but, alas! as she reached the opposite
bank, away went the butterfly and
away went Dot after it, with her gold.
en curls fluttering in the light, soft air,
oblivious to everything save only the
gay little insect that was fluttering in
i CHAPTER IV.
; Scrambling along in the ripagned
grass, which almost reached her head,
,she was passing, without noticing, 11
man who“ lay asleep partially con
Lcealed behind some bushes close to
the bank of the river, when she sud
denly tripped and fell over one of his
badly-worn boots, which was protrud
ing through the long graSs. As she
fell she uttered a little cry, but so
faint that it did not even have the ef
fect of awakening the man from hi:
heavy slumber. At first Dot was
little terrified, but finding that she was
not hurt she plucked up her courage
no thought of harm to herself passinj
through her-1 pure and innocent heart
and stood contemplating the cause 01
her mishap.
“He not petty like daddie,” thoughl
shp, as she gazed on the pinched and
wrinkled face of the half-starved ma:
that lay before her; “but,” a sudden
thought entering her head, “perhaps 111
is poor,” and this appeared to her al
the more probable from the ragged
patched clothes he was wearing,
an!
41.514
the almost so alel S3 and out at-Lt c- to:
not lose this opportunity.
boots he had on. i ‘ '1
V1 hilst looking at him she observed .
something bright peeping out of the
pocket of his coat. “What a funny
sing,” she said, stooping down ant
placing her. small hand on the barre
of a'large, brass-mounted pistol. Yes
this ragged wretch lying in a troubled
sleep, hidden as he thought safely from
all eyes, was the same ruffian who had
so frightened Lady O’Connor the pre
vious evening. He had lain ‘in am
bush ever since, not daring to venturi
out in the daylight, and afraid to re
turn to his comradesguntil he had ac.
complished the-murderous mission that
by lot had fallen to him, namely, to
wreak the vengeance of the band on
ilieii supposed tyrannical and hard-
'1eaited 12111010111.
It “as a cmious picture to see: the
:lainty little girl. 11e1'biight,1osy farm
‘;;lo'u 111;; with health and excitement,
bending over the sleeping form of the
hardened wretch who had been corn-
lillSSlOllt‘d by the other members of
[he secret league to which he belonged.
1".) wreck the happiness of herself and
family. ‘
Sudenly a bright thought entered her
little mind, and banished the pitying
look which had taken possession of her
face. She remembered the small
.uncheon, the piece of bread and jam,
that she had left in the garden.
“Perhapshe is hungry,” thought she,
"and perhaps he also has a little girlie
like me at home, who has nosing to
eat. I’ll wake him first and ask him.”
Acting upon the impulse of the m0—
ment—for our Dot was an impulsive
little creature—she placed hei hand
on his reugh frieze coat, and putting
her face close to his, she said, “Wake
up, man, wake up,” 1
On hearing the soft voice close to his
car, the man woke with a 5‘. art and,
jumping quickly to his feet, muttered
:1 deep curse of surprise as he saw
the anxious and Winsome face of the
bonny little child so close to him.
"’Who are you?” he said; “what’s
your name?”
“I’se Dot,” she answered, moving
away somewhat timidly, for she was
frightened at the fierce way in which
he spoke; for it must be remembered
that she had only been accustomed to
be spoken to by gentle, loving voices.
Then plucking up her baby courage
she lisped: 1’se Dot, dad’s and muv-
ver’s Dot,” she repeated, as if to em«
phasize her identity. “I’m velly solly
I frightened zu so much. I_.w0ke 211'
up ’cos I sought zu might be hungry,
and when Bridgie—she is my nurse,
1:11 know—bought me out my lunch, I
put it down ’cos Bridgie, my‘V Nannie,”
the said again, earnestly, as if to reas‘
snie him as to who Bridget really was,
“told me dat sometimes the ’ittle chil-
dren had nosing to eat, so I did not
touch it, but I sought I would save it
up for a week, and den give it someone,
f01 I would zen have seven pieces—yes,
seven pieces,” she repeated, counting
on her little pink fingers. _By this
time she was quite out of breath, for
she had babbled out her little story
for the man’s information in one
breath, and she now paused for him to
answer.
He was, however, speechless. He
was quite dumfounded, for here, in
his grasp, was the one he had sought
for, the one that had puzzled him so
long to get at. An evil voice whispered
in his ear, “1\'ow,then,'is your chance,
Dennis McCarthy, now, 01' never. Do
This child
is everything to Sir Bryan; to harm
her would be to kill him. To stop her
little mouth would be an easy matter,
and would be a glorious revenge!”
These thoughts passed through the
man s mind.
f Theie was no one about.
' “I‘ll do it,” he muttered to himself,
“and then our revenge on Sir Bryan
will be complete.” But at this junc‘
ture his. meditations were interrupted
by little Dot, who had been patiently
regarding him all this time. waiting for
his reply to her ’comniunication.
Coming close up to 111111 She said,
“Don’t zu like bread and jam? Sall I
get it for 7.11? It’s just over dere. I
won’t be long if zu will wait.”
"that's that you say?” he ro‘ughly
interrupted. “Bread and jam. is it?
Be jabbcrsl I. am hung1y enough for
anythinrt, for not a mouse! of food has
passed my blessed lips for the last
.twenty~f0ur 11'. urs." Then speaking
to himself 110 5.10“ led out, “I‘ll let. her
bring it me. She can’t get away from
me; I’m pretty sure of her.” Then
aloud, "Yes. fetch it for me. me
beauty, . nd the blessing of all the an.
gels rest [on ye.”
“Would zu really like it?” she re
plied, gleefully; “den I’ll do and dot
it; I’ll not be long.” Then suddenly
she remembered that she had already
taken a bite of the bread and jam, ant.l
a troubled look stole over her face as,«
wrinkling up her tiny white forehead,
she said: “I beg zu parding, would
zu Velly much mind, but I has bitten
a small piece out of it, the jam looked
so nice.”
' The man. suffering as he was from
terrible privations and with the worst
of evil passions festering in his heart,
would have been inhuman indeed to
been unmoved at the sweet,
sn'all. troubled face as the child ut.
tcrcd her apology. His stern look re
laxed as he replied, with something up
preaching a laugh:—
"Not I. my beauty; run away and
come back as fast as you can; but
mind.” he said,’catching her delicate
little wrist in his coarse, hard, brown
:12! ”:1:-
hand, "don’t you spake to a sowi.”
"Mayn’t I tell muvver?” she an.
swered.
“No,” said he, “not until after ye
have brought-the mouthful of bread.’
“Velly well,” she said. and ran pat
tcring over the bridge as fast as he:
little legs could carry her.
CONCLUDED TO-MORROW.]
—-¢'
——No claims, no aflidavns‘f out a
GAZETTE advertisement gets there,
every time.
CAKE OF TOILET SOAP
IN EVERY PACKAGE.‘
A JOKE ON' THE WIZARD.
Bill Nye Proved Too lunch for! Hermann
the First Time They hIet.
A few years ago the late Bill Nye
and Hermann, the magician, met for
the first time in a small Ohio town.
Each knew the other very well by
reputation and from personal charac-
teristics, but they never had been, in-
troduced, By chance they stopped at
the same hotel on the occasion referred
to and were given seats at the same
table in the dining room.
They bowed politely and began talk-
that the other did not recognize his
V1s-a-v1s.
Just as Nye raised his knife and fork
to cut' a dish of lettuce salad Her-
mann" uttered a cry of protest and sur-
prise. Nye stopped in astonishment.
“Excuse me, sir,” remaiked the wiz-
ard, “but I thought I saw something
queer there in your lettuce.”
The humorist carefully looked over
the salad, leaf by leaf, but found noth-
ing, and again raised his knife to cut
it. Again he was stopped by a sharp
cryfrom Herrmann, who added, apolo-
getically: “I beg a thousand pardons,
but I surely could not have been mis-
taken that time. There is something
there. Excuse me”—and he pointed to
a large lettuce leaf, raised it and dis-
closed underneath'a magnificent dia-
mond cluster ring worth several hun-
dred dollars.
Nye slowly picked up' the ring. and,
without the slightest manifestation of
surprise, drawled out: “This sort of
thing has gone-just far enough. I’m
continually shedding diamonds wher-
ever I go. Day before yesterday I lost
a solitaire in a sugar-bowl in Pittsburg,
and in Cleveland this morning the
chambermaid, in sweeping my room,
found three or four more. It is posi-
tively giving me brain fag to keep
track of these things, and I’m going to
give it up as a bid job.”
Beckoning to a waitress he slipped
Hermann’s ring into her hand and
said: “Here’s a trifle for you. Keep it
to remember me by; it’s yours.”
It took the owner of the ring about
half a day to recover it, and it cost
him Several bottles afterward.
~~~p *._..~-— -.
A TERRIER’S REVENGE.
Summoned His Faithful Friend and 01)-
tained Satlsfaction.
This dog story was told to a. New
York Mail and Express reporter by a
lady who vouches for its accuracy. Re.
markable as it is she aflfirms that it is
the‘ truth, the whole truth and nothing
but the truth.
Au lip-theState family had two dogs,
a bulldog and a black-and-tan, between
which there existed every evidence of
deep friendship. The family went into
the country one summer some sixteen
miles from home. They took the black-
and-tan with them but left his compan.
ion at home. They had not been es‘
tablished in their summer quarters
more than a few days before the small
dog had managed to pick a quancl
with a neighbm s bulldog, in. which
the black-and—tan got much the worse
of the argument. So much so that
when he disappeared after the battle
his owners were much worried. They
searched high and low but no trace
of that small dog could be found.
The next morning there was seen
coming up the road side by side the
black and tan and his faithful compan‘
ion, the bulldog from home. The two
marched straight past the hotel where
the family were staying and halted in
front of the home of the black—and-
tan's enemy. In some unknown man
nor the country bulldog was sum-
moned and immediately, his city con-
temporary fell upon‘ him. The strug-
gle was severe and prolonged, but the
issue was never in doubt. The coun-
try bulldog was completely conquered
and retired in as good order as possible
under the circumstances. The victor.
once his task completed, wheeled about
and Without a stop retraced the six-
teen miles to home. The black-and-
tan crawled into the hotel with every
indication of complete satisfaction. on
his diminutive countenance.
Rank Injustice.
The editor of “The Jamestown Ban-
ner” picked upone of his metropolitan
exchanges and read: ,
“The charming little soubrette, Eva
lIollisWhopper, has just purchased a
new bulldog. ”
“It is durn funny,” said he to him-
self and the cat, “that these here city
papers publish that sort of stuff, and
then make fun of me for mentioning
that Squire Jim Brown has painted his
barn. —Cincinnati Enquirer.
N
.‘L For sian philosopher being asked by
what method he had acquired so much
knowledge, he answered: “By not be-
ing prevented by'shame from asking
questions when I am igno1'an’t.”——Tid-
Bits.
ing about the weather, each believing .
HORSE SENSE. " ' '
Stories of Equine Intelligence by an 011-
serving Country Doctor.
The country doctor is expected to go
whenever called—rain or shine, heat
or cold, night 01‘ day; sometimes, per"
haps, leisurely, but often as quickly-as
possible; Through all this his horse
and. himself are constant companions.
and share together the joys and the
sorrows of the road. .It is not strange,
therefore, that an attachment of more
than ordinary intensity. often springs
up between them, during which the
man notes the almost human qualities
of the horse.
While quite a boy I. knew a horse of
such humor and intelligence that he
gave me a high opinion of horses in
general. Somehow the tricks of old
Ball led me to consider horses as al-
most of kin to human beings, and I
have always talked to them and treat»
ed them accordingly. Ball, 11 fine ani-
mal belonging to my uncle, who lived
on a farm adjoining ours, was a sor-
rel horse of good size and especially
fine head, with heavy neck and shoul-
ders. He had done a great deal of
farm work in his time, but was now
too old for anything but occasional
light service; so he usually had the
range _of a pasture in front of the
house that reached up to the yard
fence. There were cattle and sheep
in the same pastime.
Ball was noted for his cunning and
clevei tricks such as opening gate."
and doors, pulling down bars and the
like; but no one suspected. him of
playing practical jokes 011 sheep when
one after another was found on the
wrong side of the fence. It was by his
antics and evident delight whenever
a sheep was found that be attracted
attention. A watch was instituted,
and soon, when Ball thought no one
saw him, he slyly picked up a sheep
by the wool with his teeth and
dropped it over the fence! Then, go
ing away some distance, he anxiously
waited, evidently watching for some
one to come out of the house. As soon
as he saw that the sheep was discov-
ered he gave a snort and began to run
and kick up his heels with delight.
Sometimes he would steal articles
and hide them, evidently just for the
fun of the‘thing. One day a, heavy
maul, such as is used for splitting
rails and wood, was left so near the
fence that he could reach it. When
he supposed that no one saw him he '
took the maul up in his teeth, carried
it to the further side of the field, care‘
fully hid it behind the stump of a tree,
and then watched the result. This
time he had been seen carrying the
maul away, so the men made great
ado, pretending to be hunting for it,
looking in the fence corners and be-'
hind stumps, while Ball was running,
snorting and kicking up his heels with
unbounded delight. Whenever they
approached the maul he tried to at-
tract their attention to some other
point.——Youth‘s Companion.
LTHE VDOUBLE GLASSES.
How the Lenses are Prepared for Near
and Far Vision.
One of the clever devices of the op-
iician is the glasses designed for both
near and far vision. Looking straight
ahead, they adjust the eyesight for ob-
jects at a distance; glancing down-
ward, they bring things to a quick fo- _
cus. Thus they do the work of two
pairs of spectacles. .
These glasses are familiar enough. i
but the manner in which they are put
together is interesting. Opticians now‘
adays secure the double adjustment in
three ways. One is to fit into the lower
edge of a lens designed for far vision
and shaped something like a melon
slice a section of a lens designed for
near vision and shaped something like
the melon itself. They so fit as to form
the ordinary elliptical shaped glass.
The frame holds them in place. ,
Another way is to take a strong lens
designed for. near vision and grind
upon the upper edge a slighter con-
vexity for far vision. There is no need
of a frame for this arrangement.
The commdn way is to grind out'
what is substantially aslice from the
lower edge of one side of a lens de-
signed for the far vision. In the place
of the sliceis pasted on a segment of
a lens designed for near vision. The
only adhesive substance available
that is perfectly transparent is Canada
balsam, and all workmen use it. No
frame is needed.
’ In the “Bazoo” Office.
Proprietor—“Smith, either we’ll have
to stop printing an accident insurance
coupon in the Bazoo, or you’ll have to
be a little gentler with the spring
poets.” “
Editor—“Why, what’s the matter?”
Proprietor—“That last fellow you
:hrew down stairs carried one of our
coupons, and he’s just filed his claim
for damages.”——Phlladelphia Press.
Stamped :1 BOSS”
Always the Same "if
Norwalk Chronicler