SIGK HE'AIAGHE
Positively cured by these
. : ‘ Little Pills.
1 They also relieve Distress from Dyspepsia,
Indigestion and T00 Hearty Eating. A per.
feet remedy for Dizziness, Nausea, Drowsi-
ness, Bad Tastein the Mouth, Coated Tongue
Pain in the Side, TORPID LIVER. They
Regulate the Bowels. Purely Vegetable. ,
Small Pill. Small Doses
Small» Price.
HOSTEUES ,
CELEBRATED
9 Assists Nature
IN
Overcoming the
effects of strong
food and seden-
tary habits of the
cold weather.
’ :_ It Removes
__ ., 1111111111 1-
3cm
Cures CORNS, BUNIONS anleARTS
SPEEDILY and WITHOUT PAIN.
‘ FOR SALE 31! ALI. DRUGGISTS.
’ 1121511111 ssornaas, Prop’rs,
Llppman’s Block. SAVANNAH, GA. .
it‘s neglect of
throat and
bronchial. .. 1g,
troubles E’QELE QB:
that 333331.
leads to 0F
death llfilltllflllllfl
dealing AND
disease.
No wonder Hale‘ 3 Honey of l-Iorehound and
"Far 15 praised by its users. lts curative efiects
are like magic. Sold by druggists.
Plke' o Toothache Drops cure in one minute.
25C.
Ask Your Drliggist
NEW 1101111.an HAVEN a HARTFORD
RAILROAD.
-Na'w Yonx Drvzsrox.
NOVEMBER 28, 1897.
Trains leave South Nor-walk as follows:
FOR NEW YORK— Accommodation
trainsat9.36a. m., 1.11, 3.,04 4.,07 5.33,
6 41. 8 11, 10. 20p 111. Express trains
at 4.55, 5.45, 6.15, (local), 6. 55, (local).
7.13, (local), 7.-,56 (local), 8.17. 903 (local)
9. 58, 10. 35, 11.37, (local) a. m. 12.47,
,‘2. 25. 5.05 5.55, 7. 55 p. m. For Washing-
9 top via Harlem River 12. 53 a. 1n. (daily)
. SUNDAYS—Accommodation 9.15 a. m.
'5. 43, (local), 7. 23, (local) 928 p. m. Ex
press 4.55, 5.45 a.m .
FOR NEW HAVEN AND THE EAST——
Accommodation trains at 6. 32, 7. 42,
8.46 andll. 42a. m., 1. 37, 2.42 (toB’p’ t),
4.20, 5.27 6.27, 7.28(toB-"_,pt) 8.41, 9.41
and 11.15 p. 111. Express trains at 1.11,
1.20, 9.11 10.05, 11.08 a. m 12.02, 3.05,
5.04 (NaugatuCk Express) 1.10 p. m.
SUNDAYS—Accommodation 7.42, 9.12
111.231.:m and7. 15p. n1. Express 1.11 and
. C '1‘. HEMPSTEAD, Gen. Pass. Agent.
PYMOUTH ROCK ICE
. 31111011111111:
Stores and families supplied. Lowest rates
ELLS afco.,' 1 LN‘orth Ave."
.x Norw a ll.
1
~ Hunter made inquiries and obtained
BILIOUSNESS,
NERVOUSNESS'
DYSPEPSIA,
STOMACH‘ '
B! 5 And renews the
ITTER system.
TAR .
CONN ECTICUT’S SMALLPOX ROCK.
A Belle of the Days'VVhen Inoculation
“"as Practiced ln thé Nutmeg ‘tate.
A party of bicyclists from Thomas-
to'n, Con-11., under ”the leadership of
Charles T. Hunter, while making a run
to Hartford through Farmington re-
cently unearthed a curiosity in the
shape of, a. huge flat rock or ledge in
the woods, covered with names, ages
and dates. None of the dates were
later than, 1794. The rock is part of
the trap formation which. crops out of
the little mountain to the southeast of
Farmington, on the old road running to
New .Britain. Upon returning _Mr.
from an old resident of Southington
what is probably the story of the rock.
It appears from the Southington
man’s story that a smallpox inocula-
tion hospital, owned jointly by the ad-
joining towns of Southington and
Farmington, stood in the Wilderness
near the sculptured rock for three
years after 1792. The rock was the
meeting place for the hospital attend-
ants an-d the messengers from the two
towns. At that time and for years aft-
er, until it was forgotten, the ledge
was known as the smallpox hospital
rock.
Smallpox was held in dread byrthe
old residents of Connecticut, and until
Jenner’s discovery of vaccination came
into general use inoculation was prac-
ticed. Hundreds of people were in-
oculated at the Southington-Farmjng—
ton hospital and the names carved on
the sculptured rock are those of some
of them. There are thought to be hun-
dreds of these inscriptions, as the sur-
face of the‘rock has been uncovered
for a small area only. The dates run
from 1792 to 1794. A bit of an old
Farmington letter found by Mr. Hunter
throws further light on the old pest-
house times. It says under date of
1794:
“The young girls here are all in the
pesthouse. I have been up to see them.
They are as thick as toads after a rain.
Nancy Hooker and Fanny Cowles,have
it the hardest, but they will do well, I
believe.” :
A story is told of a bride from New
Britain who was sent during her hon-
eymoon to this old pesthouse to have
smallp 1; “according to orders.” She
was Mary, the daughter of Col. Gad.
Stanley, a soldier of the Revolution,
and had just been married to Oliver
Dewey. The young couple had planned
a. wedding trip to North Carolina,
which was a long journey for those
lays. It occurred to the bride’s father
:hat she might be exposed to smallpox
while traveling, and he insisted upon
her going to the pest-house on the-
mountain to take the disease in its
mildest form. The bride wept and en-
:reated not to be separated from her
husband, and thellatter expostulated,
but who avail. The old soldier was
determined. To the pest-house she
went and after a stay of several weeks
passed through the disease in safety.
Then she went on her wedding jour-
ney. —Ne ew York Sun.
A Gold Leaf Temple.
Not in America, not even in the
Klondike, but in the far-off East, at
Rangoon, the capital of Burmah, is
situated the famous golden pagoda of
2. Buddhist temple, the whole of the
Exterior of which is one mass of shim-
nering‘ gold. This generous coating of
the medal is the result of years and
rears of offerings to Buddha, for de-
votees from all parts of the world come
to Rangoon and bring packets of gold
’eaf, which they place on the pagoda.
During the last century the King of
Burmah gave his (literal) weight in
gold to the walls of the pagoda, an of-
fering worth £9,000 sterling.
CURRENT HUMOR.
“You know,” said the steady loafer,
‘that I have never betrayed anything
you told me.’
“Exactly,” said the editor.
“Well, I want to know how you could
aublish a portrait of the girl who
snubbed the Prince on the same day
:hat the cable dispatch came? You
{now very well that the dispatch didn’t
some until about ten minutes before
:he paper was closed.”
“Oh,” said the editor, “the lady sent
is the picturethree weeks in advance.”
—(‘.‘incinnati Enquirer.
“Which would you rather be, Har-
greaves, rich or handsome ?i’
“l’d like to be rich, a1so.”——Cincin—
iati Enquirer. ,
Mrs. Hautton (maliciouslyl—You
were. such a charming debutante, my
tear, fifteen years ago.
Mrs. Inglefe——Was I? .I only remem-
1er 3011 made sucha lovely chaperon
’or me when I came out—Tit Bits.
“Miss Belle, I am sixty-eight, but I
1ave one million in government bonds.
Do you think I am too old for you?”
“No, indeed. You are about ten
1”
rears too young.
“Pa," ‘remarked Clarence Callipers,
1fter watching his father’s efforts to
sntertaln the baby for half an hour, “it
s kinder queer that all babies are born
Populist 5, isn’t it?”
“Populists! What put such an idea
is that into your head?”
“Why, although a baby is always
wanting something, nobody can get it
'or him, because it is always something
else.”——Puck.
Mrs. Longwed (yawning)—“Oh dear!
I wonder if angels ever get. sleepy?”
Mr.
E was courting you, darling.”
Then the old rascal kissed his wife
1nd went to the club withouta strug-
gle.——Up-t¢-date.
He——I should like women better if
:hey weren’t so fond ofvcontradicting.
She—But they aren’t—Pick-Me-Up.
Longweé—“You never did when
.’
THE EVENING (31:11:;
ZOLA’S STRONG SUPERSTI TICNS.
1 1 the Number W hich Déetroys the Peace
: _ of the French Novelist.
M. Zola, the great French novelist,
is embarrassed in the trivial details of
his daily life by a host of superstitu-
tious fears and a 'belief in good and
evil omens.
stance, suggests to the disciple of real-
ism all sorts of evil. While most peo-
ple regard 13 as unlucky, to M. Zola 17
or any combination of figures that
foo-ts up that amount is filled with
dire per-tent. 'When' he was run over
by a Parisian cab recently, he was not
surprised to learn that its number was
eighty-nine. Eight and nine. make
seventeen. He will undertake no af-
fair of importance on (the 17th of the
month.
Thus, certain figures have a bad in-
fluence upon M. Zola. If the number
of a. hack, when added up, forms this
figure, he will not engage the vehicle,
or, if he is obliged to do so, will fear
that some misfortune may happen to
him. For example, that he may not
succeed in the business that he has
started out to do. Such superstitious
idea may supervene apropos of any of
his ari-th‘mom-aniacal‘impulses. For a
long time the multiples of three ap-
peared favorable to him; but now it is
the‘_multiples of seven that reassure
him. Thus, in the night, it often hap-
pen-s that 'he will open his eyes seven
times in order to prove to himself
that he is not going to die. On the
contrary, the number 17, which recalls
to him a sorrowful date, seems to him
to be unlucky, and chance has ordain—
ad that he should recognize a coin:
aid-once of certain unfortunate occur-
rences with that date. Similar super-
stitu-tious ideas exhibit themselves out-
side of all ari-thmomvania. Thus, he
will perform certain acts with the idea
that, if he does not do so, some a— -
noyance' will happen to him. So he
will touch the gas burners that he
meets with in the street, surmount an
obstacle with the right foot, walk up-
on the pavement in a certain way, etc.
—New York J.curnal
EVER READY FOR ANYTHING NEW
[he Kindergarten Idea was First Dcvel~
oped in the West.
The susceptibility of Americans to
new ideas is a notable element in the
prosperity of the country. The people
are willing to try anything that is new.
This is specially true of the west,
where the enterprising inhabitants are
always seeking short cuts to wealth,
and to knowledge. This adventurous
spirit often leads to superficiality, but
it has also been very fruitful of new
methods of school education. The
kindergarten idea was taken up and
ieveloped in the west. There manual
:raining was first tried on a large scale
with satisfactory results. And it was
:eachers in the west who first brought
about the introduction of literature in
the lower grades as the best means of
interesting undeveloped minds. In
fact, they demonstrated the truth that
it is better for the child to feed upo‘n
Ideas, upon thought, upon real stories
and the lives of real people, andthe
stimulating sentiments of all the ages,
:h-an upon the inane sentences and je-
iun-e and successful effort to be child-,
ash of the reading books—C. D. War-
aer in Harper’s.
Booksil’hich'Come High.
A writer in a critical review says
:hat one-half of the book-buying pub-
ic does not know what the other half
Juys.
cook stores. The most beautiful and
:ostly books never find their way into
:he shops at all, are not sent out for
1eview, and are known to a. very limit-
ed number of people. ,
Immense sums are yearly spent on
the making of such books, which bring
from one hundred dollars to one thou-
;and dollars. These expensive volumes
ire not sold in the ordinary way, but
'-ntirely by subscription, and the busi-
ness of selling them in the United
States is in the hands of about half a
lozen men, who neither sell nor at—
:empt to sell anything else. Their
1eason is short, but the‘ profits are
arge, and they live at the most ex-
aensive hotels and drive about luxuri-
iusly in broughams, with a man ser-
vant in attendance to carry the books.
—Golden Days.
Clarence Calcium Himself.
I believe I’ m getting to be a bigger
.ool eve1y day I 11‘. e! I got smart a
'ew days ago and told pa that when I
grew to be a man and had to whip my
little boy I wouldn’t use a strap on
aim, but would get a flat paddle, and
am; square holes in it and whale him
with that, because every one of those
101es would raise a blister.
Well, yesterday pa invited me out in-
:o the woodshed to dress me down for
. something I’d“been doing, and I’ll be
larned if he didn’t lay it onto me with
:he very same kind of a paddle that I’d
:old him about!
laven’t taken a meal at the table since,
and expect to do all my eating off a
shelf for a week. The paddle works-:1
iust as I thought it would.—-—New York
World. '
Buried \Vith His Money on Him.
Not lung ago a miscrly person, who
1ad been teased almost to death by his ‘ '
meirs, endeavored to cheat them out
)f his money. Before he died he left
positive instructions'that he should‘be
buried in a certain suit of clothes. dis
wish was carried out, but after the fu-
neral his surviving relatives could find
no will and no money.
aerved them a. shabby trick, and sug—
gested that the body he exhumed.- and
.he clothing examined. This was 11 113,
and the coat, waistcoat and thlS'el‘S;m
were found to be lined with Bank of
England not es .—-Cor. Chicag o‘Tribune.
The number 1’; for in-‘
All the books that are publish-x
'2d are by no means to be found in the
“ Gee-whillikins! I '
Finally one of.
:he unsuSpected that the old man hat‘.’
F'I 1:14
CHICAGO’S FEMALE wxmfmc
Eng the \Vestern City’s Stieéis.
Mrs. A. Emogene Paul is the Hen
cules in petticoats who has undertaken
the task of cleaning the streets of Chi-
cago. It is the first time in the his-
tory of municipal government that a
Woman has been chosen for such a
commission. Mrs. Paul took the c'bn-
tract because in the list of Civil Ser-
vice eligibiles her name was at the top,
was not far wrong to have a woman
as head sweeper, anyway. He present-
ed~his plan to her.’ It was exactly
what, she wanted to do, and exactly
what she thought she could do. She
therefore rolled up her sleeves, tucked
up her skirts, and one day startled the
town by appearing on its busiest street
at the head of the broom brigade.
mas. PAUL.
, There is no one in Chicago who does
not think Mrs. Paul Will accomplish
what she has set out to do. The town
has confidence in her, despite the fact
that for twenty years men have failed
to keep even the crosswalks passable,
or the alleys better than the byways of
an Indian shamble. Mrs. Paul is not
a “new woman.” She is plain business
from the bottom of heffeet to the top
of her head. Her chin is pointed and
her head tips back over two square
shoulders. She is built like a Woman
who always knows her own mind. She
wears a. policeman’s star under her
jacket, and she has never hesitated to
step into the middle of the 10nd and
ask the officer on the beat to stop a
scavenger who was sprinkling old
bustles and cans from his overloaded
cart. Many a baker, making bread
with rats in a. basement, has been
driven from business by her persistent
nagging as an agent of the Health De‘
partment. She has cleaned out scores
of unworthy buildings. It has never
been recorded that she feared anybody,
or hesitated to demand the enforce-
ment of any ordinance calculated to
keep the town clean.
This unique Commissioner of Streets
is a New York woman. She was born
in a. little village in Monroe County,
near Roches-.ter Her parents had
plenty of money, and more. They con-
cluded to try the West w’hile Mrs. Paul
was a young girl. They went first to
Rockford, 111., and .were prosperous.
Mrs. Paul—the only girl in the family
—went to the seminary at Canandai-
gua, where she was graduated with
honors, and went back to Rockford to
live the peaceful life of a bright coun-
try girl on a big farm.
She was married in due course, and
it was all sunshine for a long time.
Then the clouds piled up with one
great sweep. She lost her husband,
her father, her four brothers—all in a
few months. Her-son followed the
others. This left her without kin on
earth, save her mother. She therefore
decided to give her life and her ener-
gies to the good of the race-in general,
the poor in particular. _
Mrs. Paul says she is forty-eight
years old. Men who know her best
will believe her. It is not wise for a
weak man not to believe her. She
would argue him off the earth. ‘ She
rides around the main thoroughfares
in an old buggy, provided by the May-
or. She has no theories on cleaning
the streets other than the general prop-
osition that “the only way to do it is
to do it, and then keep it done.” She
meets her big gang of men each morn-
ing and night at the dump grounds.
The man who has skipped a pile with
his wagon gets his time and an order
for his pay at once. The sweeper who
has forgotten his crossing finds his
head cut off. She finds the trouble
with two-thirds of the men sent to her
is the prevalent idea that it is a “snap”
to work for the city. She will have
none of this.
___._________.s
She—And do you love me as much
as you did when we were first married?
l-le—Oh more. You have become
one of my habits by this time, so to
speak—Indianapolis Journal.
A PARIS SUGGESTION.
Mrs. A. Emogene Paul's Work in'Clea-nw
and Mayor Harrison reasoned that it‘
2*
._.
_A NUN LOST; AWIFE GAINED.
Pretty Romance of a Young Novitlnto in
a Sombre Ottawa Convent.
Mlle. Baudoin, who afterwards was ‘
known as Sister Bonsecours, was only
sixteen years old when she professed
herself a postulant of the Order of the
Gray Nuns. She was the daughter 01
a narrow-minded, bigoted tradesman,
Who like many of his class among the
French Canadians imagined that to
have a son or daughter in religious or-
ders was to have a sort of patent of
nobility.
So Mlle. Baudoin started in on her
prooation—a probation of five years,
the vows being made only from year to
year. At first things went admirably
Everybody loved the girl-they couldn’t
help it. She herself seemed happy. The
pent-up sunshine in her nature had to
find some outlet, and it bubbled out in
music. The fame of Sister Bonsecour's
skill and genius in music soon crept
out beyond the convent walls. People
in Ottawa and from a distance began
to send their daughters to her for in.
struction. .She became more popular
than ever with her superiors; she
grew to be a source of substantial mon- '
ey revenue to the convent. A brilliant
musician, an accomplished artist, pos-
sessing a neat little wit of her own,
Sister Baudoin became something the
rage. among the pious matrons of Otta-
wa, and quite the idol of the pupils the
matrons sent her.
But in the meantime something was
happening to Sister Bonsecou1s.Ii
dated from the day whe.- a handsome
young physician called at the convent
with his sister to see a friend. It was
observed by the lynx-eyed sisters that
the physician had occasion for a num-
ber of days after his visit to go by the
convent very frequently, and further-
more in connection with this fact a
coincidence was observed. This was
that whenever the physician was pass-
ing Sister Bonsecours was always play-
ing the piano with a verve and dash
which was remarkable even in her,
brilliant musician as she was.
Of course the Gray Nuns were scan-
dalized at this.
Then came entreaties, threats, ap-
peals to the bishop. But it was all in
vain until the aid of Sister Bonse~
caurs’s father, Baudoin, was called in.
Baudoin in substance pronounced sen-
tence of parental excommunication up- _
on his daughter unless she renounced
her profane purposes.
Poor Sister Bonsecours had braved
all the artillery of the Church; had
endured all the humiliation and dis-
gusting penances that were heaped up-
on her without once shrinking in her
resolution. But under the pate-111a]
wrath all her fine spirit gave way. She
continued in the convent, dragging out
an unhappy, wearisome life until liber-
ty at last came with the death of her.
father. Then she shed the gray gown
forever and fluttered away like a bird
out of a cage. ,
In Montreal she began giving music-
I'cssons, until by the strangest of
strange chances that handsome physi-
1ian reappeared upon the scene. And—
well, they were married, and have
been living happy ever afterwards.—
New York World.
HAWAIIAN WOMAN 122 YEARS OLD.
11111 Has Most’ot Her’f‘ucnxtieu—Can Talk
of Happenings 100 Years Ago.
The oldest. inhabitant of Hawaii,
and probably the oldest human being
11 the w011d who has 1etained most of
her faculties, is a native woman resid-
ing in Honolulu the story of whose
iife became known through the efforts
of Alatau T. Atkinson, rJeditor of the
Hawaiian Star and general superinten-
lent of the census just Completed. Her
name is Kepoolele Apaur and her age,
from the most authentic reckoning, 124
years. This ancient specimen of hu-
manity can .chat intelligently about
events that occurred more than a cen-
:ury ago, can see a 001D. in a DI‘OSDGC- .
:ive donor’s hand clear across the
room, and can patch clothing as deftly
is any of her great-great-grandchil-
lren. She is getting purblind, but her
general health is good and her ap-
1ppetite fair. She volunteered the in-
formation that she~ remembered the
digging of the well in Kau, and that
she was a child at the time, S: milar to
a. child running about the house, a
3hild of between 6 and 7 years. This
event occurred in 1781, and is described
in Fornander’s History. This would
make her 122 years old, according to
exact calculation—San Francisco
Chronicle.
His Blu 11‘.
When the young man called to ask
for the old man’s daughter, the latter
naturally thought it was necessary to
put up a good bluff, that being the
usual method of procedure. Conse-
1uently. he looked solemn, coughed
mac or twice as a sort of preliminary,
:ommuned with himself a minute or
two, coughed again, and asked:
“Can you support her in the style
to, which she has been accustomed?”
“If I couldn’t” returned the young
man promptly, “I ought to be ashamed
of myself.”
The old man’s bluff was called.
—Chicago Post.
_ ran soil.
.cakes.
THE TRUE DEFINITION OEII'CREOLE.
Dometlmes Taken to 'Mean a’Mlxture ‘3:
Colored Blood.
What is a creole? A creole properly,
1nd in strict sense, is the child of any
foreign parents who is bornon Ameri-
The accepted use of the term,
iowever, is one who is born of French
parents in the Franco-Latin states of
.he south, especially Louisiana, Ala-
nine. and Florida. In those states .the
areole is the high-caste native, but
.he‘term has been misused-to desig-
1ate the mixed mulatto races, descend-
ed from French or Spanish fathers and
Indian or other native mothers; but
:his use is incorrect in toto. The word
tomes from the Spanish “crillo,” or the
word “criada,” signifying “born here.”
in the gulf coast region the generic
:erm “Daygo” (a. corruption of the
Spanish-name, “Diego”), is used to
sliver all the mixed races except the‘
He is the very Hidalgo
3f the coast country; the F. F. V. of the
south, as it were. He is ever prodd
if his blue-blooded descent, and not in-
frequently comes from an old and titled
family. He is proud, gracious, fond of
cigarettes and sometimes absinthe; and
hasan inborn boycott on labor. The
greole women have a languid and slim-
ous beauty and grace of their own,
rarely equaled by those of colder blood
and skies. It is a fad with the old cre-
ole families of New Orleans not to mix
socially with the American society. A
type of the class is Madame Latour,
in De Leon’s novel, “Creole and Puri-
tan,” a grand dame of eighty, who
knows no word of English and has
r1ever crossed Canal street—Atlanta
lournal. “'
.123
TH E CICYLIST’S VOCABULARY.
tome Up-to-Date Expressions Afl'e‘cted by
the Wheelers.
Cyclists who want to be up to date
nust keep posted on the latest cycle
Expiessions and similes. Here are a
ew gathered by Sporting Life, at the
ate National meet:
An awkward person is a “wabbler.”
A gossip travels with a “loose
sprocket wheel.”
If your clothes are not in style you
ire a “ ’95 model.”
Any rider abralding the spin by a
'all merely “scrapes off some of his
inamel.” ‘
A stupid individual, if there be any
Creole proper.
:uch on bicycles, has “sand in his
1earings.”
A proud person, or one unduly
1aughty, “rides withhis handle-bars
'aised too high.”
One who is disposed to be imagina-
ive to the extent of romancing, “is
geared up to 100.”
The individual who shouts at night
vhen others desire to sleep, is the vic—
rim of “loose spokes."
The unfortunate condition of being
iroke is described as a “compound
1uncture of the pocket-book.” .
Needed :1 Beast of Burden.
Visitors to Devon and Cornwall, can-
iot fail to notice what an important
art the patient ass plays as a beast
if burden. A very good story is told
11 this connection of a rather han -
ome Devon maiden, living at T
the young woman had had little edu-
:ation, but there was none to beat her
11 the whole district in the preparation
.f linen. She got it up equal to new.
Every one was surprised when last
'ear she proposed to and married Tom
)——-', aapoor-looking youth that no
girl would glance at.. Meeting Sally
he following week, the person’s wife
,old her how surprised they all were.
“Oh,” said Sally, “ ’ee zee, ’twas this
er way: If I didn’t. ’a ’ad he I should
lave had to buy a. donk’, ’cause the
.lothes is getting too many for me to _
ake round. ”—Weekly Telegraph
Kllllng Rabbits for Their Fur.
Out on the plains they are killing
ack rabbits by the hundreds for the
ur hat trade. The rabbits are so
lumerous on the Western Kansas
ilains that they can be scared up by
he score simply by dragging oversthe
10d a long wire that will brush the
;rasses. Behind this, as horses haul it
orward, come the hunters,- and they
hoot the hares without mercy, filling
he wagons by the end of the day. The
kins are qouted as follows:
king, 3 cents each; damaged, half
)rice; culls and pieces, 5 cents a
lound; cottontail rabbits, 3 cents a
)ound. The Kansas farmers are put-
.ing in their time in this way and are
naking money.
Discrimination in Philadelphia.
Hundreds of colored boys are em-
ployed in Philadelphia to sell hot fish-
cakes on the streets. The cakes, as a
rule, are cooked by colored women
and are as delicious as fishcakes can be.
The boys carry the cakes in tin cans,
to the bottom of which is affixed a
heating pot.
box of fuel. They take a stand on
some crowded corner and in the course
of an evening sell from fifty to 200
for each cake is 1.: cent, but if the pur-
chaser shows signs of having indulged
too freely in drinks alcoholic a'demand
for 5 cents is made and generally paid.
——Philadelphia Press. 1’
THE ORIGINAL
“ E038” ., .
' Always the Same ‘
Good ~
To a sobei person the charge‘
They have also a small ‘
Norwalk Chronicler