Norwalk Chronicler

Evening gazette, Monday, November 1, 1897 · page 7

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T1151 E E v E ELI N a GA ZET TE

 
 

 

N. Y. University 3113112521123
Law School 0“ ”SE

(LL. B. after twc
.Fnrs) EVENISGOLASSES (LL. B. after threeyears.

ally 311531011933) to 6 and 8 to 10 P. 1!.

Tuition 3 1 60 per year.
GRADUATE CL ASSES—Twelvc courses. Five obtain
LL M.

For circulars address L. J. Tompkins. Registrar
Washington So usre. New York City.

“MI ‘flw‘Jd/ufdr/M’I

‘\ Mfka -he!l.‘reatn1ent and Guru of

fllQUOR, MORPHINE

and Narcotic Drug Habits.
Trained male and female
“nurses. Send for illustrated
‘atalogue. Telephone. Ad

3 2. BOISE’S mSANITAEIgIM,

HOSTETTER’S It Antwan, the

INFIRMITIES
OF AGE,

Promotes Sleep,

 

 

 

 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 

And Repairs

T he Broken Down
HUMAN

STOMACH

ITTE ERS M4 CHINE

asses-Ir; :
$3151“ [1mm 5:- ..
Born Paint

BIT

‘ Cures conus, sumons anumnrs
sPEEIIILr and WITHOUT PAIN.

F0}? SALE BY ALL DRUGGISTS.

LIPPMAN BROTHERS, Prop'rs,
Lippman’s Block, SAVANNAH, GA.

 

 

consumption
reaps

his richest
harvest

SALES
where dis- “flag?
cases of

the throat “0513190118
and lungs
TADR

are neglected.

If you have ever tried Hale's Honey of
Horehound and Tar you know what a
safe rdit is against throat and lung

ules. Sold by druggists.

Pihe' s Toothache Drops cure in one minute.

 

NEW YORK NEW HAVEN 111 HARTFOIID
ILBOAD
—NEW YORK DIVISION.
October 3, 1897.
Trains leave South Norwalk as follows:
FOR NEW YORK— Accommodation
trainsat9.36a.m.,1.,11 3.04. 4.07, 5.33,
6.41. 8.11, 10. 20 p. 111. Express trains
at 4.55, 5.45, 6.15, (local), 6. 55, (local),
7.15, (local), 7.56, (local), 8.17, 903 (local)
9.58,10.35, 11.37, (local) a. m. 12. 474
2.25, 5.05 5.55, 7. 35 p. m. For Washing
ton via Harlem River 12. 53 a. to. (daily)
SUNDAYS—Accommodation 9.15 a. m.
5. 43, (local),7 .23 (local) 9.28 p. 111.. EX
press 4.55, 5. 45 a. 111.
FOR NEW HAVEN AND THE EAST—
Accommodation trains at 6. 32, 7. 42

.8. 46 and 11. 42 a. m., 1.37, 2.42, (to B’p’t)‘,

4.20, 5.27 6.,27 7.28(toB-’,p’t) 8.,41 9.41
and 11.15p.m. Express trains at 1.11,
1.,20 9.11, 10.12,11.08 a. m. 12.02, 3.,05

_ 5.04 (Nougatuck Express) 7.10 p. m.

SUNDAYS—Accommodation 7. 42, 9.12
a. m. and 7.15 p. 111. Express 1.11 and

1.20 a. In.
C. T. HEMPSTEAD, Gen. Pass. Agent.

 

 

HALE

LUKG

BALSAM

 
 

25C.
ASk Your Druggist

 

0011011011311

GREGORY’S -0|NT.

101' 0121113011 1111111101 1111897.

—_

snons DIINEIIS,
:IIIIoIIIs IsuIIn cue. :IKE,
BATHIIIE, 110111111, 113111111.

Electric cars to Hotel, every twenty

minutes. ‘

JOHN E. O’SULLIVAN,

Manager.

 

l

 

-____ _ f. __ -.-

 

Q

2 as if after that nothing would surp113I

' fault.

~way a more desirable man than Saun-

. .1 MAN WON HER.“

It’s an awkward thing when mastei
and man are in love with the same girl
One must give way, you see! And 11
the master is that one, it’s apt to be
bad for the man. Knowing this, John
Adams and Emily Bolton resolved tr.
keep their engagement to themselves
for a bit, until they could start in life
on their own account.

Why the girl had fallen in love wit]:
the man instead of his master it woulc
puzzle a conjurer to tell. I’m sure site
couldn’t have said herself. It was he
John Adams, who suggested secrecy:
and Emily, after a little disput;
agreed. '

Emily accepted John about Chri:
mas time, and he argued that it wont:-
be ruin to be discharged in the slact.
time.

“VVe’ll keep it to ourselves till tin

spring, my girl, and then we can snag
our fingers at him," said John.
' But Emily had no desire to snap hm
fingers "at Reuben Saunders. She was
not built that way. She felt sorry £01
him, and wished him all manner 01
good things. Still she was in love
with John, and'consequently did as he
told her. .

But long before spring came—in fact
it was the middle Of February—it be-
gan to be rumoredabout that John and
Emily were engaged. Reuben heard
the report and went straightway tc
her father’s cottage and asked to see
Emily. '

Mrs. Bolton opened the door. She
stepped back and called up stairs,—
“Em’ly, Em’ly! Here’s Mr. Saun-

ders wants to see yer."

And then she went about her ‘work
and left him standing at the Open door.
She, for her part, preferred Reuben to
John as a husband for her pretty
daughter. That she was the girl’s
mother, and knew the value of money
by its lack, may account for her pref-
erence. Moreover Reuben was as good
a man as John, though not so hand-
some.

“I’ve only come to ask you a ques-
tion, Emily,” said Reuben, humbly
when at last the girl appeared. ‘

“Say on,” said Emily, not quite a1
her ease, for there had been a time
when she had given Reuben encourage-
ment. .

“I hear that you and John Adams are
going to be married.” And Reuben
lifted his honest eyes and looked the
girl straight in the face.

"I don’t see what business it is 01
yours. I suppose we’ve a right—” be-
gan the girl, angrily.

But before she c0u1d finish her sen-
tence, Reuben said, sadly, “I’ve got my
answer,” and turned away.

The girl’s heart smote her.

‘Stay, Reuben, stay! It’s. not my
I did not want to keep it from
you. But—but John said—J

Emily stopped. The meanness of it
all ashamed her.

“I know, I know!‘ Adams judges
me by himself, and thought I would
turn him bit as soon as I heard of it!"
said Saunders, bitterly.

Of course John’s sweetheart fired up
at that.

“If you’ve got anything to say against
John, you. can say it to some one else
Mr. Saunders!” she cried out.

“I haven’t!" he shouted back, strid-
ing off down the little path to the front
gate 'as Emily slammed the door.

“I’ll give him a week’s wages and
turn him off,” Reuben told himself,
passionately. Then Emily’s sweet face
rose before him. “I can’t do it—l
can’t do it!" he muttered, as he strode
on, his hands deep down in his trous-
er’s pockets, 'his head bent forward on
his chest, a noble man than he thought
himself.

, CHAPTER II. _

It was with a heavy heart that Em-
ily werit to meet her lover the next
day, which was Saturday, and there-
fore a half holiday. She had not seen
him since she told Reuben Of their en-
gagemen-t, and was afraid to hear whal
Reuben might have said to John about
it.

The first sight of John’s face when
they met reassured her. As I have
said before, he was a handsome young
man, and as he came smilingly up to
her, Emily felt certain that she loved
him dearly, and that he was in every

ders. Which, strange to say, was not
what she always thought about him in
his absence. After their usual greet-
ing, they turned and walked on togeth-
er. _ ‘

“The boss has been very civil to
me this morning," said John; “called
me into that little office of his, and safe
he thought as he’d heard of a place
as’d suit me. Kind of foreman’s place
down in the shires; a place called Bur
dock, I think he said.”

“Oh, John, how good of him!” ex-
claimed the girl.

“H’m,” said John, with a conceiter
smile: “don’t you see, eh, he wants t:
get rid of me—wants me out of ti.-
way so he can come after you?”

“No—no; he knows better.”

“He’s a precious sight too conceitc
to'know better. Lor’ I did laugh in In
sleeve as I thanked him, and said -
I’d be glad if he’d speak a' word fc
me. If I get it we’ll be married rig’
away. Now you see how wise of me ‘
insist on you saying nothing about 0"
being engaged.”

“You’re quite wrong!” cried Emi 1:
who had in vain tried to interrupt +'.
flow of her sweetheart’s words. 1
because he knows. He came and asks:
me yes te1day, and I told him!”

“You told him we were going to be
marr- ed ‘7”

“Yes, I told him.” repeated Emily

“Well, I’m blowed!” and John lookec

 

Then, after a few min i
“He must be 1 ?

him any m'ore.
~utes’ consideration,
mall”. he. exclaimed.

To this Emily vouchsafed no reply

so John, not exactly understanding hex
silence, changed the subject by say-
ing,—

“Em, you’ve often wanted to go ovei
the old Manor House, and you won’t
have many more chances if I get this
place. Shall we go now?”

Emily agreed. She knew the care-
taker, so there would be no difficulty
in getting in.

CHAPTER III.

They had wandered about the old
place for twenty minutes, and had
been everywhere except up in the tow-
ers, which was the Oldest part of the
house. It had been shut up from the
public,,as dangerous, forthe last two
years. John proposed that they should
go to the top and see the View. Emily
was frightened, but he laughed her out
of her fears, or out of the expression of
them. So they went up; and John,
who was in a teasing mood, insisted on
their getting out on the roof, which
was done by means of a short ladder
leading through a. trap door.

Though the day was warm for the
time of year, Emily soon felt bitterly
cold, and said she must go down. John
led the way; but hardly had he got his
foot off the last rung of the ladder
when he felt the tOWer begin to rock.

With the impulse of a coward, scarce
staying to give a. hasty shout to Emily
to follow, he rushed down the stone
stairs and out of the place. A mo-
ment later there was a series of creak-
ing reports, and three sides of he
building fell with a. crash to the
ground, leaving Emily crouching down
in a. corner of the roof, which still
hung to the remaining side.

Adams ran into the road shouting
for a. ladder. Soon a crowd. was col-
lected and the ladder was fetched. Too
short! Another was found, and while
willing hands were lashing the two to-
gether, Reuben drove up in his cart.

When he heard what had happened,
he took John’s place in binding the
ladders together, saying—-

“You go and tell her what we’re do-
ing. I’ll see to this.

Reuben had the habit of authority,
so John went.

When the ladders were firmly bound
Reuben and two others carried them
through the iron gates into the little
park where the tower stood. A mixed
crowd of men, women, and children
stood breathlessly gazing up at the cor-
ner where Emily crouched, her face
covered, not seeming to hear the en-
couraging words her lover was shout-
ing up to her.

Reuben looked at the wall. -

“We must be quick,” said he to the
man next to him, or it’ll be down be-
fore we can get her off.” Then after a
moment he added: “It won’t bear the
weight of the ladder. Run and fetch
the one off my cart."

This was done, and in a few minutes
the third ladder was pushed through
the rungs of the first, about four feet
from the top, making an isosceles tri-
angle. Two men were placed at the
foot of each ladder to steady it, and
the whole reared sideways against the
wall, the apex almost touching Emily,
and the upright reaching up above her
head. John hadn’t been of much help
—he was like one distraught; but when
all was ready, Reuben turned to him
and said,—

“Now, tell her to get on the ladder.
Tell her to look up and catch hold of

the frame above her head. Tell her

she is quite safe.’
John shouted up these instructions
but without more result than making

Emily half stretch out herthanduand
,shudderingly cover her face again.

Then Reuben,—

“It’s all right, Miss Bolton. You just
get on the ladder—quick, and you’ll be
safe enough. There’s half a dozen of
us holding it at the bottom,” he shout-
ed, encouragingly.

CHAPTER IV.

Reuben turned to John once more.

“Look here, man,” he said, you must
go up and fetch her.”

“GO up that ladder? It wouldn’t bear
the weight of both of us."

“Some one must fetch her down. It
you won’t, I must.”

“I’ll—I’ll hold the ladder.”

“Pshaw!” And Reuben turned away.
Then suddenly turning back: “Mind
you, if I get her dOWn safe, I ,try my
luck again.” And shouting to the men

to hold the ladder firm, he cautiously,

went up.

“Emily,” said he, as he touched her,
“we must change places my girl.” She
looked at him, her eyes wi.d with
fright. “That’s right! You keep look-

ing at me, and doing as I tellyou, and,

you’ll be as safe as a trivet,” said he.
cheerfully, though his heart was work-
ing like a steam engine. 'How he man-
aged to change places with Emily he
never knew. He always said it was
her trust in him that did it. When she
was safe on the ladder and he clinging.
to the fragment of wall, he said, im-
pressively—

“Go down the ladder as'quickly as
you can, and I’ll follow. In two min-
utes "the whole place’ 11 be down."

Emily gave him one swift look them

sent the blood tingling through '11 s
veins, and in less than a minute she
was on the ground. John, who had 1101

been allowed to hold the ladders, trier

to put his arm around her, but sh;-
pushed him from her as she breathles 2.-
ly watched Reuben’s descent. Then
turning to him,—

“Go!” she said. “Go! When I 1113.?»
ry, I’ll marry—I’ll marry a man!”

After that she fainted.

She did marry a man.
was Reuben Saunders. John Adams
got the foreman’s place in the Shires.

 

CONDITIONS MET. ,'

'.'His fortune,,who would win my hand.
Must have at least five ciphers in it. "
Said he: ‘ ",Dea.1 if I. undeIst 1111.
,As mine sun ciphers, 1 ab 11! ' u 'n 11.. "

- tions Of his skill at Wichita.

His name.

 

DANCING T0 CURE AILMENTS. .1-
Curious Hedlaavul Custom in a Little;
, .Town in Luxembourg.

Modern civilization is fast improving
ancient customs off the face .of the
earth, yet a unique ceremony still
takes place in the little old world town
of Echternach, in the Grand Duchy of
Luxembourg. Every Whit Tuesday a
vast multitude of persons from far and
near assembles and forms the proces-
sion of ,dancing ,saints (Springsndo
Helligen) in order" to induce heaven to
cure all their ailments. Rich and
poor, young and old, weak and strong,
halt and maimed, take their stand up
on the Pursian side of the Sure bridge
at 8 o’clock, and after listening to a.
sermon dance to the abbey and thrice
around the tomb of St. Willibrod, the
patron saint. The procession is head-
ed by the town beadle, dressed in red
and surrounded by small boys; next
come ch-oristers, chanting litanies;
then a large bod-y of clergy, 700 strong,
and last the rank and file. There are
placed in rows of seven, kept in line
by handkerchiefs, sticks and umbrel-
las, and interspersed with the motley
crew are musicians playing “ dance
music upo nevery conceivable instru-
ment, while the dancers sing the clas-
sic tune as they perform a polka. step,
three steps forward and two back.

More than 1,000 years ago, when
Willibrod, the hero saint of Luxem-
bourg, died at Ec-hternach, a terrible
affliction smote all cattle; they were ‘
seized with a dancing madness , a
frenzy destructive alike to themselves
and their owners. The people danced
in order to prevent their animals do-
ing so. The effect was marvelous; the
cattle regained their sanity, and, see-
ing this, the people continued to dance
on their own account for all kinds of
illness, but especially for hysteria and
St. Vitus’ dance. Everybody danced
and the old and infirm unable to foot
it themselves, performed the (pilgrim-
age by proxy, with an equally good re-
sult. From time to time efforts were
made to stop the ceremony, but this
resulted in a. return of the cattle
plague, showing that the saint was not
to be defrauded Of his annual homage,
so that it had to be resumed, and the
number of pilgrims increases yearly.
”Fro-m Gentleman.

 

COLLEGE BOYS IN GERMANY.

Vastly Different Conditions Under Which
They Study in That Country.

Student life in Germany is very dif-
ferent from what it is in the United
States. The Faculty of the univers1-ty
assumes no responsibility for the
punctuality orthe studiousness of the
pupils. When a boy enrolls his name,
passes his entrance examinations and
pays his fee he is his own master, and
can do whatever he likes until the
time arrives for another examination,
when he must present himself and en-
dure the ordeal. 'If he succeeds he
goes on with his class. If he fails his
name is dropped from the rolls and
he goes home in disgrace or makes
another trial at a different university.
He is not compelled to attend lec-
tures, he is never called upon to re-
cite, as the students in American col-
leges are, two or three times a. day in
the classroom. His professors never
ask him questions until he becomes a
member of what is called a “seminar,”
which is a. selected class for original
research under the direction of a mem-
ber of the Faculty.

At some of the lectures you will find
only a'dozen students, where there are
perhaps. 200 or 300 pursuing the course
Of which'it is a part. At other lec-
tures "you will find the room crowd-ed
with attentive listeners numbering
twice as many~as are on the profes-
sor’s roll. The attendance is govern-
ed by the interest of' the students in
any particular line of inquiry and the
ability of the professor to make him-
self interesting. -

 

WILLIAM TELL OUTDONE.

A. Dangerous and Daring Feat of a Kansas
mnemnn.

Tom Smith, the famous Kansas rifle-
man, has again been giving exhibi-
The
shooting so far outdid anything at-
tempted by the late William Tell, an,
that musical Kansas is daily expect-
ing that the Opera named in honor of
the Swiss patriot will be changed to
that of “Tom Smith. ” Smith stood in
position with an apple on his head
and a gun pointed over 'his shoulder.

Carefully sighting the gun, he pulled
the trigger. The bullet struck
the trigger of another gun
placed thirty feet behind him; the sec-
Ond weapon having been fired in this
novel fashion, discharged its bullet at
the trigger of a. third gun thirty feet in
front of the marksman. The shot
from the third rifle. struck the trigger
of a. fourth gun at the back, and a little
higher than the .;second and, finally,
the shot from the fourth gun went
through the apple on Mr. Smith’s head,
——New York World. .

 

A Remarkable Tlmepiece.

Japan possesses a remarkable time-
piece. It is contained in a. frame three ;
feet wide and five feet long, represent-
ing a. noonday landscape. In the fore— .
ground plum and cherry trees and
rich plants appear in bloom; in the’
rear is seen a hill, from which flows
a cascade, admirably imitated in crys-
tal. From this point a. threadlike
stream meanders, encircling rocks and
islands in its Win-dings,- and finally los«
ing itself in a stretch. of woodland. In
a miniature‘sky a. golden sun turns on
silver wire, striking the hours on sil-
ver gongs as it passes. Each hour is
marked by a creeping tortoise. A bird
of exquisite plumage warbles at the
close of the hour, and as the song

 

ceases a. mouse sallies forth from a i

neighboring grotto, and, scampe13ng
over the hill to the garden, is soon lost

' gator.

'10 view . ,l ,j

CALIFORNIA OLIVES

' ,SROWERS HELPED BYTHE NEW TAR- g.

 

IFF AND AN INCREASING DEMAND.

in Time, It is Thought, This State w111 ’

Yield as Much 011 from the Fruit as
Italy or Spain—The Finest Grades,How-
ever, Will Come Those Countries.

By the Federal census of 1890, the.
olive plantations of the golden state ,

of California included 607,377 trees,
and of this number 278,381 were bear-
lng fruit. Olives to the amount of.
more than 9,000,000 pounds and the
value of nearly $400,000 had been pro-
duced in California in the year previ:
ous. Such has been the development
of the olive industry since, that in
1895, 500,000 olive trees were sold for
planting from the nurseries of Pomo-
na alone, and it is estimated that 600,-
000 olive trees were planted in Cali-
fornia. It is predicted that at no very

distant date California. will. produce

as much olive Oil as Italy and Spain
together. The average annual product
of Oil in Italy amounts tO‘ 750,000 tons,
in Spain to 300,000, in France to 185,-
000, in Portugal to 100,000, and in
Greece to 65,000 tons, a total 'in these
five countries of 1,650,000 tons.

The portion of California which is
best fitted for olive culture is, of
course, the southern part, on the Pa-
7ific slope, and it is computed that the
iounties of Californ 1a where the olives
may be acclimated constitute the larg-
est and finest olive growing area. in the
world. '11 is from 600 to 700 miles long
and varies inwidth from 30 to 125
miles, the total area being twice that
devoted to olives in Spain. The de-
mand for Olives and olive 0.1 in the
United States is constantly on the in-
crease, and the Opportunities for an
enlarged market for California pro-
ducers are thereby made excellent and,
moreover, the facilities for transit of
freight between the East and the West
are constantly being improved. Steam-
ship charges between Texas and the
North Atlantic points are lower now

than'they have been for many years,

and 'a considerable portion of the pro-
duct which comes to the East from
California, and especially from south-
ern California, is sent over the lines
having 3. terminus in the Lone Star
state. This temporary stimulus of an
Eastern market for California olives
and olive products is of less import-
ance, in the judgment of dealers,“how-
ever, than the fact that the demand for
olives and olive oil is largely'on the
increase, and the necessity of import-
lng olive oil, except of the very fine
grades from Europe no longer exists.
Under the McKinley Tariff law of 1890,
olives in jars and barrels were free of
duty. Under the Wilson Tariff law
there was a duty of 20 per cent, but
under the new law there is a. duty of
25 per cent. on Olives imported in bar-
rels. 0n olive Oil the duty has been
raised under the new tariff from 35 to
10 cents a gallon and the effect of these
changes, it is expected, will be favora-
ble to an enlarged market for _ the
American olive products. The average
lmportations have been 400,000 gallons
of olive Oil in a year, andt'he reduction
of tihs amount with constantly in-
creasing American consumption will
be to the benefit,'it is believed, of the
California farms—New York Sun.

 

GATOR GRUNTERS.

in Accomplishment Attained for the
Purpose of Hunting the Animal.

There are, in Florida, people who are
known as gator grunters. They have
practised this so long that they suc-
cessfully imitate the grunt of an alli-
Thcy act as guides to parties
of Northern tourists during the winter,
and often hunt ’gators on their own
account. They take a big wagon, and,
as a. rule, go out to the edge of the
glades. Through the flat woods around
the margin of the glades there are
many little'lakes‘ that in the dry sea-
son subside except directly in the mid-
dle, where the ’gators make a deep
puddle, which is known as a "gator
hole.’ The expert hunter takes his
place near this hole, and, concealing
himself, begins to produce that pecul-
iar grunt in imitation of a ’gator. Pret-
ty soon there is a slight movement of
the water, and a. long, black head
shows up. Then another comes to the
surface. Then the 01d bull
crawls up into the mud along the wa-
ter. The others follow him, They

come in search of the sound, and when‘

they are far enough from the water
the slaughter begins.—‘—Ne'w‘ York Tri-
bu‘ne.

J

 

 

For Clever Device.

“Flossie didn’t have to write much
of a graduating essay.” “Why not?”
“The title of it was so long.” “What
was it?” “It was ‘Whence Does the
Human Soul Derive the Remarkable
Power of Investing External Circum-
stances with the Lurid Hue of Its Own
Feelings ?”——Chicago Record.

' ~ -.

 

Miss Oldbird (amanced, somewhat
Iadly)-—-Ah, Count, you love me now,
aut will you after our union?

The Count (ecstatically)—Loaf!
Why, mein tarling, I vill be vun g-r—r-
1nd loafer all'my life!—Judge.

'wlll 1.1111 you, he can’t‘recover.

r’gator V ,tlemen.

 

51111111324111: sousnsours.

How They Feast on the Poor Negroes WIN
Happen to Fall Overboard.
“Talking about sharks,” said a New
Orleans man, “you don’t know What
sharks are until you go down to the
mouth of the Rio Grande river. I '
have made the trip from New Orleans
by steamer frequently, and I have
never landed at Matamoras that I have
not seen some poor negro roustaboui
fall a victim to the greedy sharks that
areas thick in the gulf ‘at that point
as fleas in a barn in August. It iss
curious and a cruel fact that a. steamer
seldom touches at Matamoras that one '
or more of the negro deckha-nds do not
“fall” overboard, and that is the last
seen of them. I rather suspect that
this is the method resorted to by‘the
captain of the boat to preserve disci<
pline among the negroes. The crew
sees to it that a refractory member
"falls” overboard, and this has a. sal-
utury effect on the rest. So accustomed
have the sharks in the waters of that
vicinity become to their weekly feast
of negro meat that they follow ingoing
steamers for miles out from Matamo-
ras. I have seen hundreds of them
hanging on the flanks of steamers
headed for the mouth of the Rio
Grande, and they have followed us
sometimes for fifty miles. apparently
fully aware that they would get‘a goOd
square meal as soon as we cast anchor.
They cling close ‘to the sides of the
boat when a landing is made, and woe
betide the unlucky sinner who falls
overboard. All that is seen of him is
a. little red splotch on the water where
he struck. The sharks lie on, their,
backs awaiting their prey. You know

"that they 'must place th-emselve in this

position before they can do damage to
anything that comes their way. A
shark in a natural position is as harm-
less a. fish as swims the seas. But
when he flops over on his back and
comes at you there isn’t one chance in
a thousand to escape his sharp teeth
and iron jaws..”—-—St Louis Republic.

 

AFARM HAND’S FORTUNE.

[Io Befriended a Poor Sick Woman Once
and She Left. Him $73,000. ,

A San Francisco dispatch says: Wil-
liam F Hastings, who has worked as
an ordinary farm laborer for years, has
just received news from England that
he has inherited $7 3, 000 left him by a
woman whom he befriended fifteen
years ago, when she was poor and ill
in California. At that time Hastings
worked on Mr. D. 0. Mills’ 5 suburban
estate at- Milbrae. Miss Carrie Burch
was one of the housemalds. She fell
ill, and Hastings loaned her $200 of his

"savings. .

After her gacovery she went away as
a nurse to a. rich woman, who went to
Australia. There Miss Burch married
a retired shIpmaster. named Hall. She
repaidfiastings, and‘ he hear no more
of her till a few days ago, when he re-
ceived a lettm from a lawyer nan’1ed
Watson of 1421151011. saying that six
years ago Mrs. Hull died, bequeathing
him all he. estate. Since then Wat-
son's American agent had been trying
to find Hastings. The lucky man is’35
years old, and has never been outside '
of California.

 

in unexpected Verdict.

A very famous lawyer explained his
almost uniform success by saying that
he never flew over the heads of the
jury, which meant that he never in-
dulged in language beyond their com-
prehension. - A young lawyer who had
not learned this rule, not long ago,
paid dearly for his ignorance.

‘ "You see, gentlemen, ” said the coun-
sel for the defendant, complacentl‘y—
it was a compensation case—“I have
got the plaintiff in silvery nice dilem-
ma. If he went there, seeing that the
place was dangerous, there was con-
tributory negligence, and, as his honor
If he
did' not see It was dangerous, neither
eculd my client. have seen it, and there

was ‘ no- negligence on his part. , In

either case, 1 am entitled to the ver-

‘dlctl”

' The jury ~1'etired.

“Well, gentlemen.” said the‘foreman.
“I think we must give him fifteen hun-
dred dollars."

All agreed except a stout, ruddy
gentleman in the corner, who cried
hoarsely:

"Give him another five hundred, gen‘
for getting into the dilemma.

Verdict accordingly.

“Amelia—Swear not by the moon, the.
nconstant moon,

Augustus—Then what shall I swear
1y?

Amelia—Swear by that which you
101d invaluable; something that you
:annot live without.

Augustus—Then, Amelia, I love you!
I swear it by my bicycle.-—Tit-Bits.

Hateful Old Mam—“And when your
rheel .oke down several miles from
1111: ” said the Old man, “you repaired
all by yourself, did you?”

“I Lid, ” answered the typewriter,
on ,y.

“1 seems mighty funny .to me,
en, ’ he continued, “that when the

ban on your machine needs shift-

' "r- 11 hr ve to call on that dude of a

-1. -;.er to fix it for you every
'-~— .ndianapolis Journal.

 

 

THE ORIGINAL

StampECi II Boss" .‘ ;
' ' Always the Same

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 
 

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