v-
'below my knee,
P., Lippman’s Great Remedy, Saves
a Man From Becoming a Cripple.
Asa. A1mnons,-a well -known
zen of Jacksonville, Florida, was
ctcd by a terrible ulcer. Medical
seemed unavailing in stopping the
ges of the terrible disease. The
was swollen and intensely painful,
the ulcer had eaten its way down
0 the very bone. All medicines and
.i'eatments having failed to effect a
cure, the doctors said the leg must
come off. Just when it seemed that
Mr. Ammons would become a disabled
and a crippled man, he tried 1’. P. P.,
Lippman‘s Great Remedy, and the re-
sult was wonderful.
P. P. P. SAVES HIS LEG.
“ Jacksonville, Fla, July 1, 1895.—v
Two years ago I had the worst ulcer
on my leg 1 ever saw. It had eaten
down to the bone, and my whole leg
and my foot. was
swollen and inflamed. The bone was
swollen and painful and discharged a
most offensive matter. ‘ My physicians
said I had necrosis of the bone, and
my leg would have to come off. At
this stage 1 commenced to take P. P. P.
and to bathe my leg with hot castile
soap suds. It began to improve at
once and healed rapidly, and is tc-day
a sound and-useful leg.
“I think P. P. P., Lippman’s Great
Remedy, is all a man could ask for as
a blood purifier, as I have known it to
cure so meterrible cases of blood poi—
soning in a remarkably short time.
"ASA AMMONS.”
TERRIBLE BLOOD POIS’WL
The body covered with sores-n-two
bottles of P. P. P. made a positive and
permanent cure. This is only one of
many thousand similar cases.
Catairh yields at once to P. P. P.
That smothered feeling at night, that
heavy feeling in the day—can and
should be removed; P. P. P. will do it
if you only give it a chance.
Indigestion and constipation go hand
in hand. Headaches and total loss of
appetite are the results. Regulate
yourself and tone up your stomach
with P. P. P.
Sold by all drugglsts.
'LIPPMAN BROS., Apothecaries, Sole Prop'rs',
Lippman's Block, Savannah, Ga.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv V‘VVVVVVv'VV'VV9-
4
it tzs What a g
cough mays “Al-E’s
Eleadw 3111111
that makesi OF
E 101110111
1
E
TAB
Hale’s Honey of Borehouad and Tar 1s
a. medicine that has long been ,tested ‘
in private practice. Sold by droggists
generally.
Pike's Toothache Drops cure in one minute.
WM“
it so
dangerous. i
Special to Readers of This Paper. '
, , Send this “ad. ' and 10
cents in stamps and we
will mail you 1-4 lb. of
any kind of Tea you
may select. the best 1m.
orted. Good Teas and
wofl‘ees, 25¢. per lb. We
lsend5lbs. of FINE
EAMILY TEAS on receipt of this “ad." and $2 .00. All
charges paid. (S b. L.)
THE GREAT AMERICAN TBA 60.,
3! and 33 Vesey St... N. Y.. P. O. Box 289. _‘
15mm -w. RAYMOND“
Funeral Director and hialmei
89 Washington Street South dorwalk
Residence.Mahackemo Hotel.
Horace E. Darin,
EXCELSIOII
Liverv and Sales Stable.
uuwuwwwum“
Opposite Danbury and
Norwaik Railroad depot
Norwal'x Conn. lstylish
Single '1' Double Teens
with r 1: without drivers‘
Safe horses for women
sndchildren. .-
SAISDLS HOI‘SES A SPECIALTY
Piano Lessons. '
MRS GEORGE W. BRAD LEY. (dauzhter
of the late Wm. B. Nash.) gives efli cent
and satisfactory instructions on the Piano 11
her home No. 193 Main street.
J. D. Jennings.
UN DERTAK ER
Op posits
Street'Bnilway Depot.:
.1111 BELL .4 1' OFFICE.
- sent me.
. ecoundrel the fellow mus t be.
T 15111. E v E 11111113 11 A ZE-T'TE
iF l KNEW.
If i knew the box 11he1e ine smiles are kepi
ho matter how large the key
01' strong the bolt, 1 would try so hard-
’Twould open. I know for me
Then over the. land and the sea, broadcast,
I’d scatter the smiles to play.
That the ehildr‘en s faces might hold then
inst
For many and many a day.
If I knew a box that was large.- enough
To hold all the frowns I meet,
I would like to gather them. eve1 y one.
Fiom nursery, school and street:
Then folding and holding, [‘d pack them in
And turning the monster key,
I‘d hire a giant to drop the box
To the depths of the deep, d1 ep sea.
——Boston Transcript.
A LOVER’S J EALOUSY
“Robert,” said Mr. Vyse, slowly
gazing fixedly at the young clerk,
have no doubt that it is you who hurl
robbed me.”
The hot blood flooded Robert Ac
land's neck and face as; he took in tin
full meaning of the words.
“I swear to you, sir,” he cried pas
sionately, “that you wrong me—L
swear it..by my soul!” ‘
“I Wish I could believe you, Robert,”
VIr. Vyse replied, “for I like you; but
unfortunately, appearances are toe
much against you. What, may I ask
were you doing at five o’clock yester
day evening in my private room? You
had no right or business there.”
“Nor was I,” returned the young fel
low proudly, drawing himself up to his
fullheight. “I‘ve never been in this
room in my life except when you have
Has any one told you- that l
was here last evening, sir?”
“Yes, Robert- Your comrade, Rich
ard Starkie, assured me of it not ten
minutes ago.”
“Richard Starkie!" exclaimed Ac-
laud‘, in great wonderment. “Why, he
must be mad. What can have pos
sessed him to tell so wicked a false-
hood? We have always been good
friends, he and I.' Why should he thus
try to ruin me, I wonder?”
The words, the tone, were those of
an innocent man. Mr. Vyse began tc
waver in his opinion as to Acland':
guilt.
“Robert," he said more kindly, "will
you swear to me before God that you
are innocent?"
Raising aloft his right hand, he said.
" I call the God befoxe whose judg-
ment th-1011e we both shall one day
stand to witness that I 11111 guiltless'
he declined solemnly. “Surely, s11,
you will believe me now ?"
Mr. V’yse held out his hand.
“Yes, Robert, I believe you,” he said,
“and I beg your pardon for having
doubted you. But. what Starkie‘s mo-
tive in traducin-g you has been I am
at a loss to understand.”
“So am I, sir," _ answered Acland.
“His con-duct is quite incomprehensi-
ble.”
“Well. Robert," wound up the old
gentleman, as he dismissed his clerk,
“you must promise me one thing—that
you will treat Starkie just the same as
if nothing unusual had ocurred. It is
my wish.”
“I W111 try, . 11'. But it will be a hard
task,” Aeland leplied as he quitted the
100111
Left alone, Mr. \ yse, a hale, active
man of sixty-five, lay back in his chair
and gave himself up to thought. But
the more he {1112le over the disap
pearance of his cash box the farther
he seemed from a solution of the mys-
tery. It was gone. but by whose hand
it was difficult to say.
Of'course the news that their em-
ployer had been robbed ran like wild-
fire through the small community. It
was Richard Starkie who first made
public the ill news, for no official inti-
mation of it was given, but to his fol-
low workers he dare not try to incrimi-
nate young Acland, for Acland was a
favorite with his colleagues. and Star-
kie knew well that any remark. sug-
gestive of his guilt would be received
in- stony silence—the silence of sheer
disbelief.
That evening Bob Acland went to
see Elsie Venener, the girl of his heart.
There was no actual engagement be-
tween them, but Elsie understood
quite well that Bob was only waiting
for a rise of salary before asking her
to be his wife. He had intended to tell
her nothing about what had occurred
at the office dining the day, b1. 't the
quick- -witted girl soon saw that some-
thing was amiss, aud taxed him with
it, and after a little hesitation on his
part and :1 little pressing on hers the
whole story came out. ,
“I cannot think, dailing, finished
Bob, "11 but has induced Staikie to do
it.” -‘
"Shall I tell you?’ said Elsie
murely.
“You?"
“Yes, I.
she proceeded to relate how Richard
Starkie had a few days before asked
her to marry him, and, on. her refusal,
flown into a violent rage, not only
heaping anathemas on her head, but
also on Bob.
“And you believe he has attempted
to lay the theft at my door to blacken
my cliaiacter in your eye es? What a
"I
do-
“If you had seen the look on his face
when he left me,” replied the girl, “you
would think, as I do, that he is capable
of anything.” ~
Next day Bob Acland repeated to
Mr. ‘Vyse the conversation he had held
with Elsie Venner.
Meanwhile Richard Stairkie was in a
very unhappy frame of mind. He had
just sufficient manhood left to be able
to appreciate the unutterable currish-
ness of his own conduct. But that did
not tend to make him sorry for what
he had done. No, it rather embittered
him still more against his rival. A
mania for gambling, inherited from his
father, who had betted away a. large
estate during his life, dying only just
in. time to save himself from actual
”starvation, had in the first instance
.‘made him shoft of money. ~
/. y
‘through a small plantation.
'has caused me great pain to think that
.tom,
I can, you know." And then .
‘ “No.
In order to retrieve his position 111
bet still meie heavily. and again lost
Il-l luck pursued him from day to day
fill at last. unable to meet the demandl
made upon him, exposure stared bin
in the face, and exposure, he knew
111111111t prompt dismissal from Mr
V'yse’s service. In this dilemma he
stole the cash-box, and it was only
when gloating over its con-tents tha1
the idea of snddlinig Acland with the
theft occurred to him.
It was Mr. Vyse’s custom to, go for 2
walk, unless the day was very wet, be
tween the hours of twelve and one
He usually went down the high! road
straight out of the town for a mile, re
turning home over the fields and
A few
days after the loss of the cash-box he
took the accustomed path. Dot, his
favorite dog. half pointer, half re-
triever. accompanied him. In the mid-
dle of the plantation Dot suddenly
sniffed the air, then bounded in among
the brushwood and pointed.
"Dot! Dot!” called his master.
good dog, come back!”
But Dot had evidently found some
ihing and refused to he shouted off.
Mr. Vyse made his way to where the
dog was standing. Up sprang a fine
rabbit and dashed away, Dot in hot
pursuit. But Mr. Vyse heeded neithei
rabbit nor dog. His gaze was riveted
on the place from Which' the rabbii
had jumped. Thus for a. moment 01
two he stood, then, with a peculiai
smile on his face, he wheeled round
and walked briskly home.
Some three days later Richard Star-
kie was summoned to his chief's pres- ,
ence. He went, trembli 0, fearing he i
knew not, what.
“Starkie,” said Mr. Vyse, “you have
been in my employ longer than any
other of my clerks; therefore I think it
only right to make you my spokesman
to them. I wish you, then, to tell them
on my behalf that I attribute the dis-
appearance of my cash-box to none of
them; that I am quite convinced of
their innocence.”
Richard Starkie poled slightly. Had
his scheme to ruin young Acland failed
111iserab'ly after all? It seemed so.
But he replied with apparent frank-
mess,-
“I {1111 very pleased to hear that Rob-
ert Acland has cleared himself, sir.”
“Helms done so most completely,"
rejoined Mr. szc. “I have a very
high opinion of Acluud, Sta.1'kie.”-
"So have I, sir," he returned glibly,
while he inwardly cursed the man of
whom he spoke thus landingly. "It
“Here
i
l
he could possibly be a thief.”
“Is it possible that this man is inno-
cent after all?” wondered Mr. sze.
“If not, his hypocrisy is simply as-
tounding. But I shall soon know the
truth."
“Just one thing more,” continued Mr.
Vyse, looking straight into his clerk‘s
eyes. which met his own unfiinchingly,
“and this is for your car alone, Star-
kie. In the theft of my cas’h-box I‘ve
sustained a far greater loss than any
one but myself is aware of. It is a box
of peculiar construction—in fact, it had
afalse bottom, and in, that false bot-
Starkie, there were notes to
the value of seven hundred pounds. I
had placed them there only two days
before I was robbed."
“Of course, you have the numbers, i
sir?"
“Why, v,es I have the numbeis, Stur-
kie. but an expert thief—and I imagine
from the coolness and audacity of the
robbery that I have been the victim of
one—finds no difficulty .in changing
stolen paper. He knows where to take
it and obtain :1 good price?»
\Vhen Richard Starkie went back to
his old colleagues to give them tlicii
employer’s message; his breast was
torn by two emotions—baffled spite
and greed of further gold.
"I will destroy him yet," he thought
of Bob Acland. "He's escaped 11111 (“or
a while, but it shall not be for 10111:.
Elsie Venner shall never be his wife."
“Poor old bufl’er”——his mind reveri- ;
ing to the man whose presence he had
just left~“you little guessed that in
making a confidant of me you were
telling the thief how to further enrich
himself! Veil, five hundred quids will
come in very handy just now, and, I
suppose, the commission would not be
more than two hundred pounds. Mark-
by‘s getting very restiye for his money
and I could pay him and still have :1
nice little balance in hand. You’re in
luck's way. Dick, my boy. Fortune
favors you."
>1: t at *
Bending down amid ihe bramble and
brushwood which formed the under-
growth of a small plantation, groping
among the briars and the grass, Rich-
ard Starkie was searching for the
cash- box.
“I know I flung it soxncwlere here.”
he muttered fiercely. “Where can the
thing be? Ah,” and his hand at last
alighted 011 some metal. “here you are!
I was just beginning to think that jad:
; siive-red and his back bent.
I tired—sleep.”
(found him curled on his mat.-
ish fortune had served me a scurvy
trick. Well," clasping the box to his
bosom, “you’ve been a good friend'to
me, and I’ll treat you as lightly as pos-
sible. Come, let’s away—merciful pow-
ers, what’s that?”
Four stalwart arms 11nd seized him
from behind and were holding him
with a. ise-like grip, and, before he
knew what was really taking place, he
felt the cold steel on his wrists and re-
alized that he was a prisoner, a de-
tected thief who had blindly fallen
into a skilfully 121111 trap.-—Tid-Bits.
He‘Named the Mule.
“I reckons,” said the old colored man,
“dat I better change de name 0’ dat
mule." “It doesn’t make much differ-
ence what you call a mule, does it?”
But I likes ter hab itsomethin’
’propriate. Did you ebber hy‘ah tell
’bout suhcumstances ober which. you
bad2L no control?" “Yes.” “Well, dat’s
whut I’se gwinter call ’im; ‘Suhcumi
stances? ”.-- Washington , Star.
9
MATCHES IN WAR TIMES.
Amusing Uncertainty of Home-Made
Sulphur ~fiticks. \
The late war caused the Southern
people to realize the utter helplessness
of a purely agricultural _ community
when thrown upon its own resources
and cut off from communication with
the outside world.
As the months rolled on. its became
more difficult for the inhabitants of
the Confederacy to supply themselves
with many of the necessaries and con-
veniences of every-day life. Matches,
for instance, were used by millions of
people, but it was impossible to run
them through the blockade in. suflicieni
quantities. It soon ”became evident
that ~they must be manufactured at
home, but how was it to be done? The
machinery was lacking, and also the
materials.
James McPherson, a pubhc- spirited
bookseller in- Atlanta, was one of the
first to attempt to solve the problem.
At considerable expense, he succeeded
in getting some machinery, phosphorus
and sulphur through the blockade, and
in a short time his match factory was
in operation.
The factory was situated a few
miles from the city, and the matches
were stored in McPherson’s boa; store
and sold there by wholesale and retail.
They were made of poplar and sold in
square blocks, the factory not being
provided with a machine that would
separate the matches.
Inexperienced workmen found it a
hard matter to turn out matches that
would light. At first about the only
way to make them available was to
bring them in contact with the" dying
embers in a fireplace, but this was in-
convenient, and efforts were made to
improve their quality... Finally the
composition was changed, and the
matches blazed up at the lightest
touch .
It was not necessary to strike them.
They were self-acting, and unexpected-
ly broke out at odd hours of the day
and night. The clerks in the book store
11111 double work in those exciting days.
\Vhen they were selling books they
had to watch the big boxes containing
the matches and roll them out into the
street the moment they began to
smoke. Once in the street, the boxes
would be emptied and the contents left
until they were reduced to ashes. .
There was not much profit in. an ar-
ticle containing the elements of self-
destruction, and a night watchman had
to be employed to remain in the store
and drag out the boxes as soon as they
showed indications of spontaneous
combustion. But the factory was an
Atlanta enterprise, and the people
were proud of it. At least, it was a. be-
ginning. It was a sign of promise, and
showed that in spite of the blockade
there were enterprising men in the
South who had the pluck and energy
to risk their fortunes and go to work
to build up the industries of the coun-
try. .
A. foy’al servant:
In spite of the inherent capacity for
treachery and deceit we are accus-
tomed to associate with the natives of
,India, one comes aeross wonderful and
touching evidences of loyalty and. de-
votion. .. Witness the , devotion and
faithfulness of our Goorha regiments
during'the terrible mutiny, and the
thrilling stories of wonderful escapes
entirely due to the loyalty of personal
servants.
The following true
pened lately in Madras: An Indian
Colonel had a. “boy" for eighteen
years. Having to go home on fur-
lough, he pension-ed him and let him rc-‘
turn to his family, to' do nothing for
the rest of his life. Returning to
Madras, he was informed by a brotl'n
er officer that his "boy” was as fit as
ever, and only too anxious to return
to duty. Almost before it seemed that
a letter could have had time to reach
him, the “boy” was back in his ac-
customed place.
For two years he waited on his mas-
ter as of yore, the'igh his hair was
One day
the colonel returned from parade and
had his wants supplied as usual. His
servant, 011 leaving him, salaamed
low, remarking, "Should the sah-ib
wont anything‘m—ore’ and call, his
faithful slave will hear. Ile berry
When the "sabib"
called there was no answer. They
He had
lain down—"firm.” He would never
be "tired” again. Uncomplainlngly he
had followed his schib. Long marches,
want of food, sickness and privatlo-n
had" never aroused a complaint.
W hen death came he lay down With-
out 11 murmuix—From the Gentlewo-
man.
incident hap-
- ._.-..;.IIu.—'.'.4. ..--.._-___). '
.111. Beeclier’sWFIrst 'Church.
It has been determined that the
church in which Henry anrd Beecher
began his ministry shall be torn down
to make room for buildings‘of rp—to—
date design. When Mr. Beecher be-
came the pastor the church was the
finest in Indiana. .His salary was
nor received only $1,500, which includ-
ed pay for his private secretary.
Beecher is remembered by members of
his first congregation for his wit, pop-
ularity and sociability, and as a lec-
tur'ei to young men.
“Some person s were inclined to be-
lieve that Mi. Beecher was a little too
exuberant and fondof fun,” said a.
member of the church. “I remember
that it was said that at a lawn party
he took off his coat and rolled down
hill. Once, sin coming from Terre
Haute in a stage at night, he found'au
elder of his church in the stage. Hc
disguised his voice and inquired what
people thought of Beecher’s church and
about Beecher. All this was done in
pure fun. ” ~‘~
Mr. Beecher was twenty- six yeais
of age when he came here, and re
mained for eight years. In 1847 he
left to go to Brooklyn. '
not producing the explosion
' ”Right.
l
IVORIN
laundress will
- ’rr‘g To wash
. without it A.
The cake of Toi—
lei Soap In cw
m . m.«m¢.mso~mo~.m§
MADE BY
THE J. B. WILLIAMS CO.
QLASTONBURY~ CQNN.
1>1111121=15ynam11s by Water.
1:: these days of invention the mom
exiraordinnry discovery Pcauses very
little astonishment. Still, it is a. bli
surprising to, hear that the n-ewes21
method of firing dynamite is by the
use of water. Electricity or‘a time
fuse were the modes in use till now
and both had their disadvantages. The
present ingenious arrangement is as
follows:
A sensitive detonator, Which ignite:
at the temperature of boiling water, is
placed in contact with the charge 01
dynamite, and around it is placed .1
layer of lime, which, in turn, is sur
rounded by a piece of lamp—wick
When the whole arrangement is sunk
to the bottom of a boring, the wick ab
sorbs water from the surrounding
earth and conveys it to the lime. 01
course the lime gets hot, and heats the
detonator. And, in half a minute afte1
reaching bottom, the dynamite does its
work.
The great advantage of this means
is that
the1e is no flame.
." t 1t11es.
To the uninitiated it is always
zle to know how a bronze or
statue is made. The natural impres-
sion is that the sculptor, armed with
mallet and chisel, chips his conception
from a huge block of stone after mod
elling it in clay.
Such was the method of Michael A111
gelo,‘l111tto-dny another manner pre.
vails. The sculptor having modelled
his figure most carefully, a plaster/cast
is taken. in the meantime skilled me-
chanics have prepared a block of mar-
ble. The plaster cast is placed beside
this block and used as a .model, the
stone—cutters copying point by point,
measuring the east with square, rule
and calipers. The cutting goes on un
til :1 general outline of the statue is at-
tained, when a skilled artisan, spe
cially trained, takes it in hand, making
a most faithful copy of the model on
der the sculptor’s personal superin-
tendence and direction.
21 DllZ-
When this work is completed it only i
remains for the artist to give the finish.
ing touches, a line here, an indentation
there, bringing the statue'into nearei
realization with his conception.
. The Russian Royal Baby. \
The little Grand Duchess Olga is de-
cidedly a pretty child, and her roseleat'
cheeks and crown of fair hair look
well against the background of the
large white picture hats which she us-
ually wears, and which form a kind of
halo round her dainty little head. So ,;
far she has no marked preferences,-
but seems to like everybody, and he1
nurse remarked somewhat dolefully
that although her imperial highnees
was very happy with her, she never
sulked or cried when she was given to
one of the others. ” The one exception
she makes is in favor of her young
mother. and the hardest lesson the
grand duchess has yet to learn is that
she must suffer in silence when the
Czarina leaves the nurseries—St.
Louis Globe-Democrat. ,4 '
Fort and Fortress. ~
The United States army does not re--
:ognize in its vocabulary the word
fortress,” yet many of us continue to
rail Fort Monroe "'"Fortiess Monioe.
Flow can We blame the young idea if
t shoots in this wise: '
“Sow Jairie,11-hat is a fort?" Miss
l‘eachcr asks.
.:Ij"ie (having looked it up)—-An in-
le} wicnt defensible fortification: :1
11111111 fortress or castle.
"What is a iortlet?"
“A little fort."
A 11d what is a fortress?"
".1 female fort, Ma’am.” ,
Simple 11.3mm, for ‘a Chlddn-the-l‘lead.
“For a cold in the head,” says a.
well-known physician, “the simplest
remedy, and one of the best that I
know of, is to pit a few drops of any
monia into the hands. Then make a
cup with the two minds and breathe
$800, but at the same time the Gover- :the film‘s",
“You cawn’t set down no fixed rule
I '1’ conduct in this life,” said old Wig-
tins, the Barley Mow orator. “Sam-
- «got into trouble ’cause he got ’is:
now outnan’ Absalom got into trouble
v .. 111 rlidn’t.”-—London Tia-Bits.
No up To date.“ ‘5‘
marble ”
Q
.‘Ammnfiw .
WASHleG- .
POWDER A
_ run/duocvwwl _ ‘
They 131111111 ritzy. ‘
Frank Daniels and Burt Havenly arc
successful actors, but their theatrical
paths have not always been read
stre11 11.
Seveizil years ago they were travel
ing togethe1 with a, company in Nortl
Carolin-11,1111d hard luck had follow'
them everywheie they went. Paym
engagements were scarce, and flash:
the members of the company began t
clamor for then pay, alrmdy long pas
due. 4
‘ Let’s disband, " they suggested.
“Wait until we get to Raleigh,“
pleaded Haverly. ,“We always play to
a big business there." '
And he exhibited a, telegram which
informed them that every seat in tha‘
house had been sold. .
This cheered the disheartened am
tors, and they went to Raleigh wita
light hearts. When they anrlvod the
scrambled into an omnibus and started
for a» hotel. Daniels and Haverl
mounted the seat with the driver am
gazed on the landscape that was pr!
seated as the old vehicle rattled up th
street. 7
“Beautiful, isn't Daniels or
claimed, and his companion smiledas
he nodded his head.
“And the sunset—it’s simply grand, ”
he continued.
The two men gazed entranced at 11
red glare in the ho1izon. They called
to those in the ’bus, and all climbed
out to witness the rare sight.
"Sunset!" exclaimed the man who
rove the ’bus. “Where‘s any sunset?"
“Why, over there,” and Haverly
pointed to the glare.
"That’s no sunset,” said the man,
with a. look .of disgust 0111 his face.
“That's the opry house burnln down."
The company walked home. —Chicagc
Journal.
it?”
W' V" .—
His Record Kept Clean.
A tramp called at a. well-known
home in the city at about breakfast
time, and asked for something to eat.
The gentleman of the house informed
the tramp that there was a pile of
wood in his back yard, and that if he
would saw up a. quantity of it he
would give him a breakfast.
The tramp agreed, and 'the gentle;
man of the house forthwith conducted
him to the pile of wood and, after
pointing out to him the saw, retired
i-‘nto the house.
A short time thereafter, wishing to
see how the tramp was progressing,
he went out into the yard. The tramp
had disappeared, and not a bit of wood
. had been sawed. As he approached
the pile of wood henoticed apiece of
paper fastened to the saw, andon it
were written these words:
Just tell them that you saw me,
But you never saw me saw.
—Lynchburg hows.
55511111132; IYJFXII Iilne. ‘ ‘
It is commonly believed that the
{sapphire is known only as a. gem of a
' rich velvety blue in color. ’As a mat-
ter of fact the sapphire occurs in va~
rious hues. ,-In Ceylon, Where the fin-.
est specimens of this gem are found,
it ranges from the soft, velvety blue
to the peacock blue, graduated in the
latter to an almost faultless white. It:
also ocgurs in whites, greens and yel-
lows, the latter shade being known as
the Oriental topaz and the green the
Oriental emerald. The white sapph-
' ires are often found clouded or
streaked with blue, so that many spec.
imens are out which are White when
looked at transversely, but having :1
bit of fine blue tint on the under -
point. Then there is the red sapphire
or Ceylon ruby. It is valued as high-
ly as the finest Burmese rubies, Those
most highly prized are of a rich pig-
eon blood, or rose red colon—PittSburg
Dispatch. ’
True Friend‘hip.»
A real friend asks no questions. She
takes the best that comes, the best that
is in you, the best that you care to of-
fer her, and demands nothing more:
She has long ago learned, being wise,
that to all of us there comes a time
when something should be said, but
:here is never a time when everything
should be said. There is véry often a.
.silenee between two women friends
ithat means rest, and she is unwise
I who breaks that silence.
Stamped ..- BOSS”
Always the Same -
Norwalk Chronicler