' KANSAS" WORTH. ;
An Overprdduction of Statesman Render
1
\
I
1‘
Their Services Cheap.
”Kansas is suffering from an overpro-
duction of brains. This announCe-
' ment will doubtless cause surprise,
for, while it was known that. Kansas
had an overproduction of grain, of cy-
clones and of statesmanship—the last
not being necessarily' synonymous
with an overproduction of brains—yet
it was not suspected that intellect was
a drug on the Topeka market. The
State Legislature has shown it, how-
. ever, by passing a bill cutting down
thesalaries of» State oflicers, particu-
larlyi the chancellor and professors of
the Stat-e University. ,Good judges,
declared Senator Lewelling, could be
gotffor $25 a month. That is much
cheaper than they can be hired in this
State, but when a whole Common-_
wealth runs to intellect cheapness of
that commodity is inevitable. This
seems to be the most serious of Kan-
tas’s afflictions. When a State pro-
duces too much corn it can stop plant-
!ng, but when there is an overproduc-
tion of intellect what check can there
be?‘ Hereafter when Kansas opens
her mouth let no dog bark. This in—
cludes the dogs of Egypt, for. whom
Governor Leedy has ready a new “Ki-
yi” gun. ,_
‘The Cheese.
The properdegree of formality ob-
- served at the IVhlte House, so far as
the officials are concerned, is some-
times in contrast with the procedure in
earlier days. In recently published
recollections of a long life, the author
describes a scene he witnessed at the
White House in President VanBuren‘s
time. In honor of the inauguration, a
cheese had been sent to the new chief
magistrate. It was “the size of a
large; round table.” Pieces of it, to—
gethez‘ with crackers, were handed
round to persons assembled. “The
whole house and almost the whole city
was redolent of cheese, fragments of
it lying everywhere on the streets.”
All this may seem to have brought the
President nearer the people, but the
country can today quite appropriately
dispense with that form of paternal-
ism. -
RHEUMATISM.
Mnnyon's Rheumatism Cure is guar-
anteed to cure acute or musculor rheu na-
tism in from one to five days. Sharp,
shooting pains in any part of the body
stopped by a few doses. A prompt, com-
plete and permanent cure for lameness,
soreness, stiff back and all pains in hips
and lotus. Chronic rheumatism, sciatica,
lnmbago or pain in the back are speedily
cured. lt seldom fails to give relief from
one or two doses, almost invariably cures
before one bottle has been used. ,Price 25c.
IIIUN 0N8
Improved Homoeopathic Home Rem-
edy Company put up a separate cure for
each disease. At all druggists, mostly
23 cents. Guide to Health free.
”Personal letters to Prof. Munyon, 1505
Arch street, Philadelphia, Pa., answered
with free medical advice for any disease.
the danger is
in the 3‘“‘“~“‘““‘““
neglect— iMALES)
that’s Why” [WHEY
hAAAAA ALLA
Te
Hale’s Honey of Horehound and Tar is
made for throat and lung troubles. It
acts like magic. Sold by druggists.
Pike’s Toothache Drops cure in one minute, ‘
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fatal disease.
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Special to.Readerscf This Panel'-
Send this “ad." and 10
cents in stamps and we
_ will mail you 1-4 lb. of
any kind of Tea you
maySelect. the best im.
ported. Good Teas and
W
. will send 5 lbs. of FINE
IAMILY TEAS on receipt of this “ ad." and $2.00. All
charges paid. . (S. 1..)
THE GREAT AMERICAN TBA 00.,
31 and 33 Vesey St., N. Y., P. 0. Box 289. _
Horace E. Dann,
EIOELBIOL
Liverv and Sales/Stable.
mwv wagon"
Qpposite Danbury and
Norwaik Railroad aepotl
Norwalk. Conn. Stylish
Single or Double Teams
with or without drivers'
Safe horses for women .
andohildren. .
' SADDLE HORSES A SPECIAL'IY
DAVID W. RAYMOND
. Furl Director and Emhalmer .
39 Washington Street .South Norwalk
Residence . Malia-memo Hotel
so many - ,OF
colds HIIIIEHIIIINII ,
lead to :1 AND
Coffees. 25c. per lb. 0 ,
. I LIGHT PARCEL and
«LUCKWIIIIII S: PACKAGE DELIVERY.
Will also take orders .for 'mes.
New York. Goods called
arts of the town.
eed’s Drug Store.
Cheap rates.
wager service in
for and delivered to all
Orders received at E. P.
Wall Street. with telephone‘connection un-
.30.
c. ' n LOCKWOOD.
SILAS MARSTON.
. I. '
Among all who knew him, Silas
Marston bore the character of a stern.
hard man. But a stranger might have
read his nature in his face——in the cold,
grey eyes, thin, closely-compressed lips,
and severe aspect.
. In one characteristic he took the
greatest pride. Never in his recollec-
tion bad he willingly broken his word.-
Perfeetly straightforward in all his
dealings, scrupulously honest, he had
marked out for himself a line of con-
duct from which he never diverged,
and he expected his family to walk
along the same rigid chalk-mark with
steps as unfaltering as his own.
The severe home discipline galled his
only son terribly.
hidden any amusement more exciting
than an occasional lecture at the as-
sembly-rooms, it would be strange if
he did not rebel. Tom Marston re-
volted, and the consequences were se-
rious. /
I-Ie visited the theatre.
body saw him and told his father. Si-
las Marston did not storm, desperately
angry though he was. That was not
his way.
“Theatres are catchplts,” he said. “If
you' go again I will turn you out, of
doors.”
Tom knew—none better—that his
father would most assuredly do as he
said, and for nearly twelve months he
avoided the banned building on Bards-
ley Green. But one morning a comrade
jeered at him and dared him to go.
That night he broke Silas Marston’s
law for the second time, and again he
was found out. On his return his
father met him at the door.
“You have been to the theatre,” he
said, in the calm, cold, equable voice
which he habitually used, whether an
gry or pleased. “What money have
you?”
In fear and trembling Tom produced
his purse and counted its contents with
nervous fingers.
"Sev-seven—and-slxpence,
he faltered.
Silas Marston placed two sovereigns
in the boy’s shaking hand.
"Take these and go,” he said. “I dis-
own you.”
He opened the door. Next moment
the motherless boy was in the street—-
without a home.
If Silas Marston were in any way
disturbed by his son’s absence, he gave
no outward sign of it. He went to his
business just as regularly as before,
and was as constant in his attendance
at church.
father,”
II.
Seven months had passed. It was
the last day of the Leeds Winter As-
sizes. Silas Marston had been sum-
moned on the jury. The last case on
the calendar was one of forgery. The
clerk called out the name of “Joseph
Taylor,” and the gaoler brought up the
prisoner, a lad of seventeen, poorly
clad, and apparently half-starved. He
trembled as he stepped to the front of
the dock, and his face, as he- glanced
furtively about, was deathly pale.
Suddenly as his gaze rested on the
jury-box, he staggered, clutched at the
dock railings and clung convulsively,
while his face alternately paled and
crimsoned. So he remained, with eyes
cast down.
Had a curious spectator been watch-
ing Silas Marston closely he might
have seen that juryman’s cold eyes di-
late, and his mouth part - slightly,
while an ashen pallor overspread his
features. But those signs of agitation
were only momentary.
Counsel for the prosecution opened
the case against the wretched lad. The
accused, he said, had been in the em-
ployment of Messrs. Clifford and Rice
as errand boy; it was also his duty
to sweep up the counting-house.
forged cheque for £75, in favor of Mr.
Darley, with whom the firm had deal-
ings, had been presented at Clifford
and Rice’s bankers and cashed. When
it was discovered that several forms
' were missing from a cheque-book, sus-
picion fell upon the prisoner, who had
‘ access to the drawer where the book
was kept, and had been seen in the
company of a notorious criminal—not
in custody. He was accused and
searched, when three blank forms,
next in sequence to that which. had
been cashed, were found upon him.
The body of the cheque had not been
filled up. by the accused, nor did be
present it, but he was charged with
forging Messrs. Clifford and Rice’s sig-
nature and the endorsement, both of
which were excellent imitations and
must'have been copied from genuine
signatures.
The boy was asked to plead. He
stammered something unintelligible
and burst into tears. The gentleman
who had been requested by the Court
to . defend him rose hastily and
pleaded “not guilty” on his behalf.
Silas Marston frowned. .
“it‘s a waste of time,” he muttered to
his neighbor on the left, the foreman
'of the jury.
“I think itvls,” rejoined that gentle-
man; “but let the boy have a
chance.”
Counsel for the prosecution called
witness after witness, whose evidence
made it abundantly clear that the ac-
cused was guilty, but that he had been
the dupe of an older criminal, whohad
escaped with the plunder. .
Counsel for the defence, finding him-
self unable to contest the evidence,"ap-
pealed to the Court.
“I understand,” he said, “that the
prisoner was sent away from home on-
ly a few months ago to sink or sivim.
He had disobeyed his father, a man of
considerable means, who turned him
out of doors. I do not envy that man’s
feelings when he learns the consequen-
ces of his unnatural conduct, and I
maintain, gentlemen of the jury, that
'W hen ‘a lad- is for—_
Some busyv
A .
It is-he who should be standing in the
dock and not his son.”
Silas Marston cast down his eyes.
“The prisoner,” continued the learned
gentleman, “when .on the brink'of star-
vation fell in with a man, whose-
name has been mentioned, and who
may yet have to answer for his share
in this crime. For motives of his own,
this man took pity on and fed him. It
was he who induced him to apply to
the prosecutors for the situation of er-
rand-boy under an alias, and it Was in
obedience to_hls command that the ac-
cused obtained blank Cheques and let-
ters bearing the necessary signatures.
The prisoner could not refuse; his
gratitude forbade. .
“That the boy’s nature is honorable
and scrupulous I have proof. His fath-
er turned him out of dors to starve, yet
I have failed to persuade him to reveal
that stony-hearted father’s name or
address. He has refused to bring dis-
grace upon his unnatural parent by re-
vealing his own name to his counsel.
I have nothing more to add, gentlemen,
except to ask you to take into account
all the circumstances of this case. If
the accused’s father—the real criminal
—éou1d be called as a witness, it would
relieve my feelings to examine him.”
He sat down. The judge summed
up in a sentence, and turned to the
jury,.as if expecting an immediate ver-
dict of “guilty.”
III.
It was not forthcoming. Whispers
passed to and fro in« the jury-box. Si-
las Marston took no part in the dis-
cussion. He had written his verdict
on a slip of paper and handed it to the
foreman. It was. “guilty.” Having
done his duty, he had apparently no
further interest in the matter.
Well, gentlemen?”
judge, in some surprise,
“We can’t agree," said the foreman.
“Then you had better retire,” was
the curt rejoinder.
The jury at once filed out of the box
and followed an official to the room set
apart for them.
“Come, Mr. Maydue,” said the fore-
man, addressing an elderly gentleman
of benevolent appearance, “you are the
only dissentient. \Ve can add a rider
recommending the boy to mercy, but
on the evidence we must find him
guilty.” .
“Certainly,” added Silas .MarstOn, in
his most severe tone. “The prisoner
has broken the. law, and he must suf:
fer the penalty. He ought to consider"
himself fortunate that he is living at
the end of the nineteenth century. It
is not'so long since the penalty of for-
gery was death.”
Mr. Maydue turned upon him in great
indignation.
“For shame, sir! I thank God that
those horrible days are past. And, you,
sir, ought to thank your Maker for giv-
ing you a different father to the brute
whobrought this poor boy into the
world. I say he ought not to be made
responsible, and I refuse to convict
him. Gentlemen,” he went on, adress-
ing the jury generally, for Silas Mars-
ton avoided his gaze, “I ask you to ac-
quit the prisoner in mercy to the mis-
erable wretch who turned him adrift,
for if .you do not, nothing will save
that man from condemnation when he
stands before the Great Judge on the
Last Day.” Pausing, he laid his hand
on Silas Marston's shoulder, and again
addressed him: “Are you a father,
sir?"
“Yes,” faltered the wretched man.
He was not prepared for Mr. Maydue’s
sudden attack, and the armor of cold
self-righteousness and self-approval
in which he had so long incased him-
self was anything but proof.
“I find it hard to believe you,” Mr.
Maydue rejoined. “But if you really
have a child, picture it in the prisoner’s
place and let your heart incline to
mercy.”
Silas Marston sat down and covered
his face with his hands. He was be-
ginning to awake.
“Friends," Mr. Maydue resumed,
turning to his fellow-jurymen, “I ask
you to find this boy not guilty. Let
him have another chance. Be more
merciful than his miserable father.
Let that wretch answer for his neg—
lect and cruelty himself. Don’t let us
do anything that may constrain us to
stand beside him when he iscalled to
account. Temper justice with mercy
and let the boy go.”
“You plead well, sir,” answered the
foreman, ‘but I am of Mr. Marston’s
opinion. The boy is guilty, and it is
our duty to find him so. Mercy is the
judge’s prerogative. The most we can
do Is to recommend It. Are you 111,
sir?”
The question was addressed to Silas
Marston. He lifted his head; his
mouth and eyelids were twitching—he
could not answer. At last he was
awake.
“Mr. Marston is ill,” the foreman
went on. “Come! Let us settle this
matter and go home. Now, Mr. May-
due, eleven of us are in favor of a con-
- yictlon—”
“No, no!” interrupted Silas Marston,
in great agitation. ‘
“What! Has he won you over?"
“Yes. God help and forgive me! I
am the boy’s father. All Mr. Maydue
has said is true. I drove him from
home. I failed in my duty. Let him
go, I implore you!” ..
The tears were streaming down Silas
Marston’s face now. Hls stubborn
will was broken. Mr. Maydue broke
the long silence which followed that
amazing appeal.
“What is the verdict to be?”
asked. . .
“Not guilty," answered the foreman,
In a bushy voice.
Five minutes afterwards Tom Mars-
ton was free. The judge discharged
him without‘ comment. He had long
ceased to be surprised at the vagaries
of jurymcn. It is almost needless
to add that the newlyvawakened. father
look his son home. - 7 .
he
exclaimed the .
.o
.0
RED JACKETS MEDAL.
PRESENTED BY WASHINGTON TO
THE WARRIOR AND PROPHET.
It \Vas Often Pawned for Firewater but
Always Redeemed, and at Last Became
the BosseSsioii of Gen. Parker, the Last
Sachem of the Six Nations: ’
gave to Red Jacket in 1792 was] last
the DI'Opel'ty of General Ely S. Parker,
one of Grant's aids in the war for the
Union, who was the last sachem of the
Six Nations. , I
In 1792 President Washington called
a council of Indian sachems to meet
him in Philadelphia. About fifty of the
most “ prominent chiefs responded.
Washington desired to bring about an
improvement in the moral and social
conditions of the Indian; the red men
desired to have their relationsto the
white nzen’s government defined; neith-
er object was attained; but the gath-
ering was nevertheless one of impor-
tance. The confererit'e was proh‘niged
for over six weeks, the Indians taking
great time to weigh every utterance
of the white men. At the close, Wash-
ington gave to Red Jacket—who had
been eminent as warrior and prophet,
who was the spokesman of all the
chiefs, and who was chosen as the
bearer of the President’s peace mes-
sage to the Indians—this medal and a
pipe made ,after the Indian fashion in
the form of a tomahawk.
. The pipe Red Jacket smoked to the
end of his life, but the medal he
pawned time and again as security for
his debts for firewater at various bar«
rooms, and time and again it was re-
deemed. Notwiths-tanding Red Jack-
et‘s attachment to his pipe, no one
knows where that is; but his medal.
after many vicissitudes of ownership,
fell into the possession of General
Parker. It is silver, seven by five in‘
ches; on its face an Indian is receiv-
ing from a white man the pipe of
peace, while in the background a man
is plowing; below the figures is the in-
scription, “George Washington, Presl‘
dent, 1792.” On the reverse is the
shield of the United States on the
breast of a. spread eagle, in one of
whose talons is a bunch of arrows, in
the other an olive branch, Red Jacket
was a name given him by the Ameri-
cans because at the time of the Seneca
chief's alliance with the British in the
revolution he.wore a military red coat
which an ofiicer had given him. His
nativename was Sagoyewatha, mean-
ing “HI: who keeps awake.” He was
not physically brave, though a great
leader in war, -He was very proud of
the Washington medal, and when La~
fayette visited him in 1825 he wore the
medal, and he owned it when he died
in .1830.——Boston Transcript.
, __.______..__
No Bottomless Lakes.
The deepest body of fresh water in
America is Crater Lake, Oregon. Only
one lake in the world, Lake Baikal, ex-
ceeds it in depth, and is only 400 feet
deeper. Until recently it was asserted
Crater Lake was bottomless, but
soundings have shown its greatest
depth to be 2,000 feet. It is five miles
in diameter, nearly circular and occu-
pies the crater of an extinct volcano.
world in bricks like ice.
No fish have ever been known to ex—
ist in Crater Lake. There are very
few places in the lake where the depth
is less than 1,600 feet, and no lake on
the western hemisphere approaches
this.
I It is no wonder, then, that Crater
lLake was supposed to be bottomless.
However, the truth is that all lakes
over 150 feet possess a similar reputa-
tion. Any body of water that is
deeper than the lengthof the longest
feeling line is sure to lack a bottom in
the popular belief.
I There is no data on which to base a
guess as to 'the bottom. temperature of
Crater Lake, but the supposition is
that it will be very little above freez-
ing. The temperature of the ocean re-
mains at about 40 degrees Fahrenheit
all the year round, even in the,tropics.
Nevertheless, some volcanic heat may
yet remain to warm the waters of
Crater L211: .—Chicago’1\'ews.
An‘ Efl'..rt to Explain.
“Phwat‘s the good av a threaty?”
nSked Mr. lafferty, who had been de-
’votlng some reading to international
. topics. .
“Well,” replied Mr. Dolan; “i t's'
sometoimes harrud to kape the
shtraight av a quarrel an’ be sure
-.who’s in the roight an’ who‘s in the
wrong. A threaty makes it plain as
day, an’ fur thot it’s a good t’ing.”
"But how does it work?”
“Supposin’ you an’ meself wus two
Goverml'nts, an’ we made a threaty
thot we’ll hov no folghts; nothin’ but
nrgumints. An’ suppos-in’ Oi'git riled
at something you do an’ shtart in ty
lick yez.” ‘
“Yez couldn’t do it, Dolan." -
“Oi might thry.”
“An’ ph-wat thin?”
“Then thot u’d be a breach of the
threaty an’ my part, an’ yez could go
ahead an’ lick me, if ye Wor able, wid
a. clear conscience.”—Washlngton Star.
fl—__
Frozen Milk.
European papers say that frozen
milk” ls becoming very popular. It is
frozen in dilferent-sized bricks, and in
this way its purity and freshness‘are
lnsured.’ The Belgian Government in-
tends to increase the trade at an an-
nual outlay of £10,000, and in Copen-
hagen, the capital of Denmark, a com-
pany has been formed and arrange-
gular export of frozen milk. The nec-
essary plant has been erected, and con-
tracts have been made already for the
delivery of 110,000, pounds -a- week,
which Will be sent mail partsof the
The silver medal which Washington ‘
ments have been completed for the re- ~
THE nvENiNG-ua‘znrrn
W
(i
‘ _. wesmn
. \
‘ha st
Write for catamgue of choice premiums.
and most careful housekeepers.
The splendid cake of Toilet Soap in every package. '
is only one of its many charms. - ' '
The J. a. wmmams co.. Glastonbury. Conn.
Makers of Williams Famous Shaving Soaps.
{HE TOM‘ATO IN ITALY.
It is popular With All Classes in King
Humbert’s Beahn. '
In every home and cottage in Italy
the » preserving of tomatoes is carried
on. Terraces, balconies, and even the
flat roofs of the houses are half cov-
ered with plates containing the deep
red substance. After gathering,
tomatoes intended for preserving are
spread out for some hours in'the sun
till the skin has somewhat shrunk,
says a writer in Chambers’ Journal
They are then passed through a sieve
so that they may be freed from bot]:
seeds and skins. As they contain a
large proportion of water, the sub-
stance which has been passed through
the sieve, must be hung in bags, from
which the water exudes, and soon a
pool of dirty-looking wateris formed
beneath each bag. Strange to say, it
is in no way tinged with red.
The mixture which remains in the
bag has the consistency of a very thick
paste. It is then salted, the proporti n
being a little less than 1 ounce of s l
to a pound of preserve. The process
now requires that it shall be spread on
flat plates, exposed to the sun, and
stirred from time to time with a wood-
en spoon, so that the upper part may
not form a crust, while underneath it
remains soft. ' It is a picturesque sight
when the women are to be seen flitting
about on the roofs and terraces, at-
tending to the deep red preserve, their
colored handkerchiefs flung on their
heads to screen them from the rays
of the burning sun when it is at its
fiercest. In the evening the contents
of the various plates are taken in and
stirred up together, for if moistened
by the night dew the whole would be
spoiled. After being exposed to the
sun for seven or eight days, the same
process being repeated each day, the
preserve is finished and placed in jars
for winter use.-‘
PAPER DRINKING CUPS.
Sanitary Idea Which Carries With it the
Great Advantage of Economy.
A paper manufacturer of Elberfield,
Germany, has recently patented quite
a novelty which has a great future,
partiéularly for advertising purposes
It is a substitute for a drinking glass
and may best be styled a cup made 01
paper. The idea is well executed. The
drinking cup is so Small that it may
be carried in the pocketbook, and it
enables the traveller on foot or on a
wheel to always have his own clean
drinking glass. It is so cheap that it
may be thrown away after having been
used but once, or when it has served
its purpose. These paper drinking’cups
are of a strong yellow paper, provided
with a leather-like surface, and are
absolutely water tight. The outer sur-
face many, of course, be used for ad-
vertisements, and while advertise
ments given away in this shape will
prob-ably be of much value, the cost
is little more than if the same adver-
tisement had been printed on plain pa.-
per. The new cup is also made square
and with a cover to admit the selling
of ice cream, etc., the boxes being fold-
ed away into a minimal space until
used—Philadelphia Record.
i
Mrs. W'atts—Isn’t it a good deal of
annoyance to get your meals at such
irregular hours? .
. Hungry J igglns—The irregular hours
ain’t so bad as the irregular days.—
Indianapolis Journal.
' Doctor (to Irish patient): “Do you
sleep with your mouth open?”
. Irish Patient: “Shure, Oi don’t
know, doctor. Oi’ve never seen myself
whin Oi’ve I been asleep, but Oi’ll
have a look to-nlghtl”—Tid-Bits.
I Gwendolyn—In case of a war be-
tween France and England, which}
side would you be on?
Cholly—Aw—I really believe I
should prefer .to be on this side.—
Brooklyn Life.
'A teacher, observing one boy com:
ing in late. said to him:
“Now, then, ‘sir, what are you late.
for?”
“School. sir,” answered the lad,
quietly taking his seat among the re-
maining boys.
the.
AN ELEPHANT A DEFENDANT. "
On Trial for Murdering a. Man and Ac-
quitted After a Legal Battle.
An lelephant accused of murder
has been exonerated by a Coroner’s
jury. The occasion was the inqumt
on the body of a man who had been
killed by the animal. It took place in
London and is probably the most re-
markable event in natural history on
record. _ _
-The elephant is of ‘Aslatlc birth, is
known as Charley, and is the star per-
former in Sanger’s Circus. He 'held
that position before the tragedy in
which he recently became involved,'
and will continue to do so, thanks to
a jury of liberal-minded Englishmen.
Charley was eating his supper when
he saw his old enemy. He immedi-
ately seized therman with his trunk,
pushed him against the wall and
crushed him to death.
Sanger, the owner of the circus,-was
the great witness in Charley’s favon
at the inquest. He said he was the'
kindest elephant ever known. He
added: . .
“Elephants do not forget injuries or
kindnesses. I remember several re.
markable instances. On one occasion,
when I had been separated from an
elephant for two years, the elephant,
.on seeing me, seized me round the
waist with his trunk and would not
let me go until he had hugged and ca-
ressed me for a long time. Tears of
pleasure ran down the brute’s cheeks; -
“Some years ago a nephew of mine,
a child of three, was playing around
Charley and climbing up his legs.
Charley gently resented this, but the
child continued. Charley then took
the child up, shook him gently and put
him down some yards away.”
Others testified to the good character
of Charley and the jury returned a
verdict of accidental death withoul
blaming the elephant.
The Independent Stage Driver. V.-
Eastern tourists who base theh
ideas about stage drivers upon thel'l
knowledge of Eastern coachmen, are
apt to meet with a rude shock.
There is an old driver at Monterey,
who is determined that his patrons
shall make no mistake concerning his
exact status, and in a quiet way he
checks all attempts to make a servanl
of him. A short time ago he was driv:
ing a party .of tourists about, when
one querulous old lady, who had an:
noyed him not a little by her airs ol
superiority, asked: '
"My man, do you know the name 0
that wild flower?”
“Yep,” he replied, and flicked one 01
his leaders with his whip. ‘
She paused a moment for him to
give the name, but he merely clucked
to the wheelers.
“Driver, do you know the name 0!
that flower?” she repeated, in an lm.
perlous tone.
"Yep. Get up there, Bally!”
- Again she waited, and again do
manded:
“Man, don’t/you know the name 01
that flower?”
“Yep. G‘lon" there, Pete!”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“Oh, you want to know, too, do you‘.
That's a wild poppy."—Gold‘en Days. '
Soferteramonigo. . ,
A gentleman stopped to listen to the
tune played on a hand-organ, which
happened to strike his fancy. When
the air was finished, he appres‘ehed
the Italian, and asked the name t. ._;I.'
music. '
“Soferteramonigol’” answered the'
Italian, showing all his teeth in a smile
of appreciation at the compliment to
his melodies. -
The gentleman walked on, and en—
deavored for many months to obtain
the piece of music with the ammo.
nounceable name. But he never could
find it. At last one day he heard it
played by an American. and again
asked the name of the air be admired.
“Oh, that," said the player, “is an
old thing—{Silver Threads Among the
Gold’ "—Harper’s Round Table.
Happy mother: “Oh, George,‘ the
baby’s beginning to take after you!”
Happy father: “After me! In what
way?” Happy mother: “He’s begin-
ning to crow!" " .
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THE, ORIGINAL
Norwalk Chronicler