NORWALK GAZETTE, WEDNESDAY JULY 10, 1889.
us:-
DANDELION GOLD.
Like bright old dollarsinthegrass
Thedan. 11.8116.
Andi! theywculdlikedollars "pass."
Iknowwhathould buy.
EE- AtflrstI‘dwor-kwithallmymight
To gather up the gold.
Andstufl! mypockets justastight
Asevertheywonldhold.
Then I would find Dame Nature’s store.
(She has the dearest things D
Boldly knock at the very front door.
And ask for butterflica‘ wings.
" Then I should want some fine gray glova.
i Made out of spider’s silk,
And feathery cloak from breasts of (loved.
And soft and white as milk.
0' 5‘, "1: .~ .—
For shoes. I’d buy some lily leaves
With snail shell buttons bright,
And, made of thread the thistle weaves,
Some stockings snowy white
But, most of all, I long to buy
The new moon for a boat,
That I each night, far down the sky.
Among the stars might float.
Oh, round and round the earth in range.
So glad and free and bold—
And never a cent I‘d ask of change
From dandelion gold
-The Cottage Hearth.
Trying to Hoodoo Patti.
rThe alleged rows in the Metropolitan Opera
y are mere child’s play to the ex—
perience: which the veteran impresario, Col.
Mapleson, has gone through with during his
career as an operatic manager. He had Patti
amchrster in the same company at once.
Tothe initiated that means a great deal, as
they well know what the successful manage-
ment of that team means. Gerster always
had an idea that Patti was giving her agreat
dealthe werst of it, and Patti firmly be-
moved when she was announced to sing that
Gerster pronounced some mystic spell upon
her which injured her voice. One night
Gerster sang. Patti was to sing the follow
ing night. She and Nicolini retired to their
apartments at an early hour, and just before
taming oil the gas Nicolini opened the door
to throw his shoes into the hall for the boot-
black.
He opened the door suddenly and there
stood Ger-star and her husband, Dr. Gardini.
Both ware making hoodoo pames with their
hands toward the Patti apartments, presum-
abb’with the idea of queering the nightin-
gale‘s voice for the following evening. Of
course Nicolini raised an awful ’row. For
half an hour the hall was blue with Italian
profanity, and the redoubtable Mapleson
finally had to be called from his couch to
pour oil upon the troubled waters. The
guests of the house were disturbed, and had
the people not been celebrated opera singers
they would have been bundled out upon the
sidewalk, bag and baggage. No, the Ger-
mans arelambs alongside of the fiery Italians.
--Chicago Herald. '
United States Mining Inwa-
Tlrere are certain general principles of mine
lathich may be mentioned: All lands of
the United States containing gold, silver,
lead, tin, copper or Cinnabar in workable
quantities are mineral lands, and not open to
homestead or preemption entry. Nor does a
land grant to a railroad convey title to min-
eral; nor is there any distinction between
surveyed and unsurveyed public land.
there is mineral in workable quantities in the
landit belongs to the locator and miner and
to them only. Second, and most important,
in all cases ofdoubt,the law is to bacon-
sirmed in favor of the prospector and
heater. The burden of proof is upon
all who claim titlein opposition. Third,
if lira land is within a known mineral region,
itis'presunied tb‘be mineral land,'and the
burdbncf proof ison thosewho disputeit.
Evmif theland has been thrown open to
settlement, it will be withdrawn from
marketatarrythne before vested righteao-
mupon thatitismineral land In
short, the nited States government designs
to Wood the greatest possible encourage-
ment to pnepecting and the development of
minm, and therefore directs that all doubtful
legalpointsbe construed in furtherance of
thatdesign-J. H. Beadle.
There Has Been on Improvement.
[hruleaof etiquette laid down now re-
garding court functions are comical, but
don’t compare with the following regula-
tions, which were prescribed by the lord
chamberlaanOOyearsago forthe benefitof
omcm's. many of them belonging to noble
families. When invited to dine with royal
personsthey were to be neatly dressed, with
demcoamand’boots, and not to enter the
roan in a half drunken condition. They
werewamadnotto drinkaftereaehmouthc
fuLasthatwoukimakethemdmnk too
soon, nor to empty more than one goblet for
evay two dishes. They were not to put
their hands in the plates, their bones under
the table, lick their fingers, wipe their nosm
on the table cloth,or drink somuch asto
makothem fall of! the chairsor unable to
walk straight. These are extracts from a
guide carequy drawn up for the guidance of
cinema and gentlemen of noble families
which shows that manners have improved
sinc91624.-Chicago Tribune
Mug Didn't Como.
A young man from l-locheport made us a
pleasant mil one day last week. While here
he informed us of a piece of news that will
boot interest toastudeutof Kemper college,
BoonEVilie. He informed usthat several days
ago'a negro woman in Bocheport was stand-
ingonthebaukoftbeMissouri river catch.
ingdt'lftwood, and while waiting for a log
heap’to float down. a beer bottle floated by
and she pulled it in. Uponemmining the
botibehe found that it' contained a letter
which read as follows»:
To Mr Forum Boomvrmn, Ma, April
7, ism—1 am a student at Booneville, Mo.
Iheard of a friend of mine who got a wife in
‘ this my, and I thought perhaps I might get
one in the same way. Now whoever finds
thismt m it. Your-a, etc. etc.. -—~.
P. S—Corne to me, darling. .
As yet the old negro woman still resides in
Recharort—Columbia (Md) Herald.
The Old Them
Haul CailBoy—Madam,you must hurry if
you'wmld save’your life. The hotel is all on
fire, This is thethird time I havewarned
you.
Indy Goat—Well. tell the firemen to keep
the flames under control until I take out my
curl papersand frizmyhair. I just ‘know
there‘sagreatcrowdof mendewnthereand
some of them are newspaper reports!»—
Omaha World.
A Generous Foe.
Fanny—Why, how cordially you
shook hands with Miss at the party
lgistlright! I thought you were deadly ene-
es.
Emma—Oh, thatis all mt. I have for
given her everything she grown so plain
looking—New Y Mercury. !
ark
Among the curiosities of London food sup-j
pb’maybo reckoned quail: from the Fall:-
land These delicacies are brought
over: alivefrom their distant home in the
South Atlantic and command a large price
mthemukeuastheyare highly esteemedby
gormneta . .
If‘
A TRICYCLE STORY.
It was a most exciting letter. Mamma
read'it aloud to Daphne and me at thehreak-
fast table, and we looked at one another in
amazement over its most important part, the
ript.
“You know my girls have been riding a
tricycle for some time,” Aunt Margaret had
written. “They have had one with an at
tachment, so that it can be used by one per-
son or as a tandem—that is, used by two rid-
ers. Lately, however, they have been teasing
for a new tandem, with certain improve-
ments—about which I don’t in the least un-
derstand—and I have bought it on condition
that they give the old one to your girls. As
you have no horse I know they will enjoy it
exceedingly.” ‘
“Did you ever hear of anything “Eggherm-
ing!” cried Daphne, clasping her h .
“I don’t know, deals,” said momma, more
doubt-fully. "I should be sorry to have you
undertake anything that might be considered
peculiar or unladylike.”
“Aunt Margaret lets her girls ride!”
“Yes, but they are near the city, wherethe
fashion is beginning to spread. don’t see,
for my own part, why you shouldn’t do it,
even if you are booted; but, girls, I can’t help
thinking of Uncle Melcher.”
So did we think of him; we thought and
spoke of him too often for our peace of mind.
'Uncle Mel was rich, and we were very poor.
Moreover, the time had come when we needed
to go away to school. Momma had always
taught us that it was a mistake tosuppose the
world owed us a living.
“You have no right to your uncle’s money
simply because he has a great deal and you
have none,” she said. “But if he would lend
you a small sum for a beginning, I think you
could work your way at Ellsworth seminary.
You would pledge yourselves to repay it,
with interest, when you are old enoug to
support yourselves; and though he would be
taking a risk, we should all try to make that
risk as small as possible.”
But when the scheme was proposed to
Uncle Mel, he vetoed it at once and With the
utmost vigor.
“Go away to school!” cried be. “What
for? My mother never studied beyond long
division, nor yet my grandmother, and they
were good housekeepers and excellent wo
men. You be good, sensible girls and learn
to make bread and darn stockings, and when
I‘m done with my money, you shall have it
all.” ‘
Momma after a night’s consideration ve
her formal sanction to the tricycle, whic ar-
rived a day or two later.
“But I do hope,” she said, doubtful] , as
she examined its shining wheels and sp gy
seats, “I do hope you Won’t try to ride fast.
Perhaps you can be more ladylike about it if
you do it slowly.”
Suchatimeaswehad ingetting startedto
ride at all! First we made over some old
dresses, lengthening the skirts and relieving
them of superfluous tags of trimming which
might get conght in the wheels. Then we
learned to oil the machine, and finally to
manage it. The cousins had Written tint,
with its fourth wheel behind, it was aclumsy
affair compared with their new three wheel-
er; but we who were used tono lighter means
of transportation than the family wheelbar-
row, were more than satisfied with our new
steed.
One June afternoon, after a longer ride
than usual, we found ourselves near the little
crossroad where Uncle Melcher lived. A
year before, after . with the village
authorities, he had bought a small cottage
eight miles from church and store, and had
taken uphis abodein it, with the pleasing
consciousness that he had withdrawn as far
as possible from the local civilization. It was
adreary place, but Uncle Mel liked it, and
Mrs. Simmons, his old housekeeper, tolemfed
what he chose.
“Madge,” said Do putting mime
brake as we reached W, “ " go
and call on Uncle Mel. Its only two mile
farther.”
"I wouldn‘t for worlds!” said 1. “He is
sure to scold us for riding P .”
“Well, we can’t help that. knowsby
this time that we have tm machine, and he
might as well see it. Come, and have it over.
0, Madge, before I’d be afraid!”
Forananswer Iputmyfeetdownbardon
the and started Peggy onward. Girls
don‘tliketobedaredanymorethanboysdo.
“I’ll go,” said I, “but we must hurry, for
it’s getting late.”
We turned into the narrow mad, md in
due time reached the house. Uncle Mel was
sitting on the piazza reading a no per,
butafteroneloug, steadylook at us got
up and went indoors.
Webndgonetoofar to retreat, andsowe
alighted and walked u to the house.
“Tell them not to bring that thingafioot
nearer!” came Uncle Mel’s voice from the
slttingroom. “If they’ve a mind tome
in here like decent girls they‘re welcome, but
I won’t have any crazy Jones ridin’ bicycles
up to my door.” Just then Mrs. Simmons
ed in the entry. She was evidently
glad we had heard the mge, and that'she
need not repeat it.
“You jestroll it back a mite,” she Whis-
pered. “You know your uncle’s alcetziesot.”
So we meekly trundled poor Peggy behind
the big syringe bush,andtbenwalkedinto
the house with as much composure as we
could summon. Uncle Mel was fitting in his
great chair, drumming with his fingers on
the table. That wasa signalweknewwell;
it meant “Danger!”
"What do you mean by oomin’berecnthat
thing?” he inquired.
"Wewereridingnearlreuaand so—eo we
thought we’d call, ’ said Daphne, faintly.
'“I’ve heard all about it, went on Uncle
Mel. “DeaconTolmansaysyou‘r-e the talk
of the town, ridin’ mundonthatne'w
sitcom engine. If you blow up with it it’s all
you deserve.” ’
“It doesn’t go by steaununda,” I ventured.
"Don’t tell me what it goesby! Idon‘t
want to know anything about it. The Beast
I expect is you’ll break your mother’s heart
and’go to ruin, circus ridin’ round the corin-
Jnst then dear, comfor Mrs. Simmons
peared. “There’s some mad and milk
on the kitchen table,” she said, in her mfldest
tone, and strove todraw usout of the room
without attracting {his attention. That was
im ‘ble.
“You’re welcome to thebread and milk,” he
said, “but you ain’t welcome to make my
house a rendyvoo for such goin‘s on. Now
youbeartome, onceforall: don’tyoubrlng
that thing within amile of me again while
you have it.”
“No, sir,” said I meekly, and we hastened
(hit after Mrs. Simmons.
Even she had a word of disapproval.
“Seem’s if you might ha’ known how he’d
takeit,” sheremarked,aswebegantodmwn
care in the flowin bowl of milk.
“Don’t you get onesome here?” I inquh'al.‘ '
Ithadbecome desirable to change the sub-
ject of conversation.
“Lonesome! I guess I do. Your uncle
seems to get away , from folks.
Now, we ain’t got no neighbors, except them
shif’less Burr-ages, a mile away, an’ they’ein’t
nousetous. We’re both on us too old to
walk a mile, if ’twas loose the president.”
“Why don’t uncle keep a horse?” said
“’Tainn likely he could do that ’thout a
hired man to harness up,” said Mrs. Sim-
..-fl --...
mons. “Even the cow’s too much for him
sometimes. It beats me to think what he’d do
ifone or bot]: onusshould be sick at ht,
withno hoss,an’ no man, and thedoctore t
mile away.”
At that moment we started and looked at
one another. Apparently we, had all heard
the samething, a faint “Hallol hallo!” Again
it was repeated, and then Mrs. Simmons
started to her feet.
“You mark my words, your uncle’s clim’
the mow for eggs and fell!” she cried, as she
hurried to the door. “Run, girls, run to the
barn! You’re spryer’n I be.”
We gathered up our long skirts and ran.
As we neared the barn the cries grew more
distinct, and when we entered the great door,
there lay Uncle Mel on his back, in
vain to raise himself from the pile of rub ish
on which he had fallen.
“Are you all deaf?” he asked, as we hurried
up to him. “I’ve hollered myself hoarse.
Now don’t go to actin’ like a. hen with her
headcut ed,” he added, as Mrs. Simmons ap-
peared on the scene. “I’ve broke every bone
in my body, and if you womengo to draggln’
me round, you’ll break the rest. Girls, you
jest run down to Burrage’s_ an’ tell Eph an'
Sam to come an’ lift me up. Tell ’em tosend
somebody else for the doctor. I’ve got to lay
here.”
“Come, Madge!” said Daphne, taking me
by the arm. “I know where the Burrages
live. Hurry!” She ran into the house for
our hats and gloves, and by the time I
reached her was wk 9 ing Peggy out from
the syringa bush. “ mp 011!” she cried.
“N ever mind your gloves. Put your best
foot forenmst.”
IVe rolled out of the yard and down the
dusty road.
We found that Mrs. Simmons’ mile “as a
long-one, but not many minutes had passed
when, dry lipped and panting, we rode into
the Burrages’ yard, Where a man was pump-
ing water.
“Uncle Melcher has fallen in the barn and
hurt himself,” began Daphne. "Will you
and your brother go and help him up? And
will you please give us some ‘Waterf”
He slowly filled the rusty dipper andpassed
it to us.
“Sho!” said he. “Jest what I expected!
What’s the old coon want to go climbin’
round for, anyway?”
“Will you go now ?” insisted Daphne. “He
may be dying.”
“Oh, yes, I’ll call Eph, and we’ll fetch up
there in the course 0’ fifteen minutes. But
what under the canopy do you call that thing
you’re ridin’ on?”
“It’s a tricycle,” said I.
to go for the doctor 3"
“No, I ain’t, but”—
The pedals began toturn, and so did Peggy.
I knew what Daphne had decided, and I Was
ready to do my part. Out of the yard we
went, and on until we reached a trim little
cottage near the road.
“Has your father a horse?” called Daphne
to o bareheaded and barefooted boy who sat
on the fence, gazing at us in what we howd
was admiring awe.
“Yup.”
“Is he at home—the horse, I mean?”
“No, he ain’t.”
On We went without another word. At the
next house there was a. horse, feeding in a.
neighboring orchard. Daphne gave it one
glance.
“Madge,” said she, “I could run fasterthan
that barebones. Are you good for six miles
more?”
“For twenty!” I cried, with more zeal than
“Have you a horse
accuracy.
As to the work that followed, I-can still do-
clare that I never knew anything so wildly
exhilarating. Our breath came fast, and our
checks were burning; but we gained on time,
and annihilated distance.
Two more trumphant girls could scarce}
have been found that day than We, aswerod’e
u to Dr. Miller’s house—and certainly no
hints ever sank lower than ours when we
were told that the doctor had driven away
five minutes before.
“He took the road to Greensboro,” said
pretty Mrs. Miller, “but I am almost sure he
meant to stop at Mrs. Moore’s cottage, about
umileandahalfframhere.” Awaywe
toiled, working almost against hope, for the
Greensboro’ road was terribly sandy. I heard
nothing and saw nothing; I only breathed
and struggled.
“Hurrah I” cried Daphne, at last. “There’s
the house, and there’s the doctor!”
But alas for us! He had just put the
weight in the carriage and was preparing to
step in after it. Foot power was no longer of
use, and We lifted up our voices and shrieked:
”Doctor!” we called. “Doctor! Wait!
wait!"
He paused, he looked, and the day was
won.
“Well, if you’re not two crazy girls!” he
began, as we rode up to him; but a glanceat
our faces must have ,showu him that no spirit
of fun had prompted our chase.
“Can you go to Uncle Melcher’s?” I asked,
with what breath I had left. “He’s broken
every bone in his body.” .
Then Daphne took up the tale, and after a
brief explanation the doctor turned his horse‘
about.
“Now, you girls have had exercise enough
for one day,” said he, “and I shall stop and
tellmy wife that you’ll spend the night with
us. Then, after I’ve seen your uncle, Iii
drive round and explain everything to your
mother. Good-by.”
“Shall we?" asked Daphne, when he had
gone.
“We must—or liedown andcover ourjmlves
with leaves. I don’t believe I could ride five
miles more to save the nation.”
Thenwetoiled back through the sandto
the doctor’s house, and sweet Mrs. Millet
gave us a royal welcom When thedoctor
came home he brought the news that Uncle
Mel had broken a leg, and thatmammahad
been sent for to nurse him.
“And you are to pack up your clothes and
ask one of the neighbors to take you over
there, aho,” he said, adding with a demure
twinkle of the eye, “Though what your
mother wants you for I can’t'imaglne, unles
it’s to rideon errands and chase inoflensive
doctors about town.”
Uncle Mel was ill for many a long week,
andwehadadulland quiet time intaldng
care of him. One day in August, as momma
was sitting with him, he said, suddenly, “Call
in them girls!” -
We appeared, a little doubtful of our re-
caption.
“The doctor says if it hadn’t ha’ baenfor
your ridin’ on that thing I should ha’ bear
wuss off ’n .I was,” he began, abruptly.
“Where is it?” . '
"At home, uncle,” said I. “You told us it
wasn’t to come within a mile”—
“There, there, donft twitl” said be. “Do
you want to go to school i”
“O uncle!” ,
“Now, don’t '0 uncle’ me! I’m goin’ to
turn your mother out of her houseandlive
there myself. I’m too old to be so hit bway
from neighbors.”
This looked serious. Poor- as the house
was we had, as yet, no othershelter. -
“I’ve took a placeinEllsworth,”vhe.went
on, “and I’m goin’ to let your mtg: live
thereandboardyouwhile ougoto' f
inary. Now, don’t acteos er._ dung:
me all out!” . .
MDagahne had dared What no oneelse
had pro bly done durin the last fifty
Veusaghe had kissed Un' e Melche‘r- an
Uncle . elcber looked as he actu liked
it—Alice Brown in You ’3 Com” on.
, The Beds of Royalty.
Clarence House is one of the mosbcomfort-
able houses in London, and is famous for its
good beds, for the Only daughter of Alexan-
derII of Russiaisdikemany Muscovite ladies,
very particular about her beds and will tol-
crate none but the very best. Even when a
mere child, and long before her marriage,
the was so particular about this very impor~
taut item in domestic comfort that, to insure
the sheets being tightly stretched over the
mattress, she used to harm them sewn down.
for even the slightwt crease or wrinkle would
entirely destroy the repwe of this imperial
spoilt child for the night.
His royal highnees need to be greatly chaff-
ed about this weakness by members of our
royal family when first she came to this coun-
try, but the queen, who is also very particu-
lar about her beds, stuck up for her, and al~
though now the sheets are no longer sewn
down to the mattress, they are composed of
the most exquisitely fine linen that can be
procured, and stretched like a tight rope
over the most perfect mattresses that can be
manufactured in Paris, in which capital the
maHng of matreeses has been brought up to
the level of a fine art.
A curious and amusing chapter might in
deed be written about the beds of illustrious
personages. The err-empress Eugenie is quite
as 'cular about her beds as the Duchess
of burgh or our gracious sovereign and
quite agrees with the first named lady as to
the fineness of the linen and the tightness of
the drawing of the sheets, but her imperial
majesty has an odd fancy to have her bed so
low as to give a visitor to the imperial bed
chamber the impression that the widow of
Caesar is almost sleeping on the floor. It is,
indeed, hardly elevated more than a foot
from the floor, as all who have visited in old
days the private apartments at St. Cloud,
Compiegne and the Tuileries will remember.
Another curious bed is that of Sarah Bern-
hardt. It is nearly fifteen feet broad, and
when the great comedienne is indisposed and
receives her intimate friends reposing on her
couch she looks like a little golden haired bird
lost in a great sea of white satin—Modern
Society.
Kind Hearted Men.
“Does an undertaker get hardened to scenes
of sorrow?” .
“He gets used to it in a certain we ,” re!
plied Geist, the funeral director, “but can‘t
say that he gets hardened so that he can with
ness pitiful scenes without a. bit of feeling.
Of course, when old people die calmly in their
beds, I don’t feel any special grief, for it is
only gathering in a shock of wheat fully ripe.
But when the only support of a family dies
after a long illness, then I do have pity. I
tell you it tugs at my heart strings when lit-
tle children beg me not to shut momma up in
a box Last week two little girls pulled at
my legs to keep me from carrying off their
mother’s body in the hearse. It’s pretty hard
on a fellow sometimes. Then I sympathize
with a family where the father, or may be a
son, has killed himself. The sorrow of losing
a member of the family is bad enough, but
when disgrace and shame are piled on'top of
that it is simply awful.
“I could tell you lots of stories on well
known people of Detroit, but an undertaker
mustbeggzt as dumb as a physician ora
griest. thing more about the profession.
ou never in your life knew a boy to throw
a snow ball at an undertaker. He might peg
one at the priest orthe doctor orthe lawyer;
he is certain to throw one at the teacher, but
never at the undertaker, and they are known
to nearly all childm Hundreds of them
speaktomeonthestreet. Idon’tknowwho
grey are, but they know who I am. ”—Detroit
eWs
Ole Bull's Violin.
Mrs Bull has acollection of valuablesouve-
nirs, many of them presents to her illustrious
husband. Oneof the most interesungis a
Gaspar d1 Sale violin of a golden brotvn,
with a decorated scroll, whosegraceful curve
endsin ahefihalf cherub, halfhuman. This
Was carved in the Sixteenth century, by that
strange, wild genius, Benvenuto Cellini. The
violin was put into amuseum to preserve it
when Innspruck was invaded by the French,
but aeoldier pilferedit andsold-itfora trifle
toRhehazek, acollectorofviolina OleBull
longedforitthemomant hesawmbutRhe‘v-
bazek, though very poor, refused to sell it,
though he relented enough to say: over I
do part with it you shall have it for 400
goldenducats.” Afawyearslatar, whandln-
ing with Mendelsohn and a note with
animmense seal was broughtto Ole Bull.
Rhehazek was dead, and his son offered the
violin at hisfather’s price. WbeuOle Bull
joyfully shouted, “It is mine! it is mine!”
Liszt said, “You man from Norway, areyob
crazy?” and Mendelssohn exclaimed, “It’s an
extravagance of which only a fiddler iscapa-
ble.”——Bostcn Cor. Worcester Spy.
Indfglnnt.
The thrifty peasant Named-din chiefly
recfved a visit from his needy cousin, Hafiz-
the—Ill-Favored. who besought of him the
loan, for a day, of his donkey.
“I should be most happy, good GNJSIIL,”
said Nazr-ed—dlu, “but unfortunately he has
gone astray, and I have no manner of knowl-
e where he may be.”
he words were no sooner spoken than the
donkeysetup aloud brayingfromashedin
the yard1 “Bee honki bee hank!"
“But, good Nazr,” exclaimed Hafiz, "there
is surely thy donkey at home andseemingly
quite well.”
Whereupou Housed-din rose in great
wrath and spowed Hafiz the door.
“Begone, seoundmll” he shouted. "Wouldst
thouinsult me inmyown house bytalting
the word of a donkey before my own?”—
Youth’s Companion
Her Bonnet Built Wrong.
Aladyoffashionwhosirsonthcdghts‘lde
of aeerteinchurchclosetothewallrecently
aentanorderto her milliner in New York
for a new bonnet. Themillinerisanartlst
in'l-ber work, and hercustcmers leave
allmattersofdeslgnentlrelytoher. ester
daythe bonnetcame,andwhatmsthe
lady‘schagrinto perceive thatthechthb
goons of the plum and bowswerecrrthe
rightsideof thebonnet, wherethecongrega-
tion at church would never be able tome
them. Atalate hour yesterday she wastry-
ingtodecidewhethertomndtbebonuetback
or tochange her seatin the sanctuary—Buf-
falo Courier. '
Preserving Telegraph Poles.
Telegraph poles are preserved in Norway
by making an auger hole about two feet
from the ground, in which four or jive
ounces of sulphate of" copper in coarse crys-
tals are placed and plugged in. The cholin-
cal is gradually absorbed by the wood hntil
its whole outer surface turns a greenishhue.
The sulphate requires anoccasional renewal,
andisSaid to be a perfect preservative-
Chicago Times.
Would Stop at the “cans.
An old farmer on the coastof Maine, in the
vicinity'of. Bar Harbor, watched with deep
interest the projects of a wealthy land owner .
who had built an elegant summer cottage and
was buying-up real estate right and left. :.-“I
“lore,” exclaimed he, “I don’t believe but
wasYhe won’t be satisfied till he buys up all
the land that jines him.”—Iewi¢ou Journal.
What Troubled film.
A minister of the gospel was riding through
a strip of woods in a little town in Missouri,
when he came up to an aged negro seated by
the roadside, who was an object of deepest
dejection and woe.
“What is the matter, my friend?” the good
man inqurred' . looking with compassion on
the grief stricken African.
The negro made no reply, but kept on mut-
tering:
“I’searuined man, I is! Oh, Lordy! I’se
do most nfifortunate mortal dis world hab
seen sence Job got aller his property took
away.”
“What is it that troubles you .3” the minis—
ter again asked, kindly.
“I’se ruined, sah.”
“Ruined? How are you ruined?”
“I‘se jist ruined—lost every cent I had,
$111.”
“Lost your money? How did that happen?”
“Loss hit shootin’ crops, sah.”
“Shooting what?”
“Crops, sah.”
“What are they ?”
“What am what?”
“Crops! What do you mean by crops?”
“Hit is der game dem triggers play ter git
er po’ man‘s money, sah. Dey got all er (lat
er church money, tow.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you have
been so wicked as to gamble away money that
belonged to the church?”
“I guesso, sah.”
“This is very wicked, sir; but as you are
honest about it, and feel so downcast and
repentant, perhaps the" members of your
church will forgive you.”
“Fer what, sah?”
“For losing that money that belonged to
your church.”
“That ain’t what’s pesteriu’ me, sah.”
“Ah! I see, my good man. It is been“
you know you have committed a great sin
against the Lord that makes you so no—
héppyf’ '
“No, ssh; hit’s not that—hit’s S2 0’ my
own dat (lem niggers got is what’s Insterin’
me.”’ '
And he broke forth again into doleful
lamentations.——Yankee Blade.
Ho Stopped the Car.
Occasionally, for some unknown reason, no
cars will come along a North Side street for
some time, and then three or four trains will
rattle along in a procession close together.
People who are waiting for a car will signal
the first train in vain. It never stops, though
the cars may be comparatively empty. The
second or third train, crowded to the foot-
boards, may stop if the driver feels in the
mood, and the waiting passengers find a foot-
hold the best way they can. The other day
a gentleman stood at the corner of Schiller
street and waited a long time for a south—
bound train. Finally he saw three trains
booming down together and he complained
to the gentleman at his elbow—a cripple—
about the way the cars were run, saying that
the first train would not stop for them.
“Guess it will,” said the cripple, shortly, and
he went out and planted himself immediately
over the slot in the center of the west track.
The first train rattled along and the driver
rang his bell wildly. The cripple did not
move. The driver had to stop or run him
down. He stopped within a few feet of the
man, who quietly stepped around to the side
of the car and climbed up into one of the
many vacant seats, paying no attention to
the strong langu e of the driver and con-
ductor.—Chicago erald.
Bees and Grapes.
A writer in The Fruit Growers’ Journal
says: “Dr. James McBride and I have just
turned away from the study of the bee’s
tongue through the microscope, perfectly sat-
isfied that the bee cannot penetrate the outer
skin, or” even the second skin of the grape.
This is also the decision of the leading ento-
mologists, and the scientists of the govern-
ment have so decided. It would be precisely
as if a painter should try to bore a hole
through an inch plank with an ordinary paint
brush, for the point of a bee’s tongue is a
microscopic brush, which, if pressed on the
outer skin, would spread out like the brush of
a.- painter, and refuse the desired entrance.
But when the grapes here and there are
pierced by other insects or birds, and most of
the juice is left to rot in juxtaposition to the
sound and unbroken grapes, the contagiorfs
rot would go on from grape to grape until the
whole bunch would be ruined, were it notzfor
the useful bee, which immadiately plunges its
bushy tongue into each orifice, and extracts
the yeasty must from the broken hull, and
dries up in a short part of a. day all the of-
fending matter, and as a scavenger saves the
fruit from inevitable destruction. The bee
is too smartto plunge its sting into a grape,
and it is only to prolong life that it stings a
mortal.”
Qualifications for a Cowboy.
To be a successful cowboy one must be
skillful in four qualities. He must be agood
rider, have complete control of his lariat, a
good knowledge of the country and be a keen
judge of cattle and their brands. Riding all
sorts of horses as he does, soon gives him an
intuitive knowledge as to whether any par-
ticular horse will give him trouble and when
once on he has got to stick for all he knows '
how. His rope comes in handy fifty times a
day, either to catch some maddened cow or
runaway calf, to haul wood and hundreds of
other uses. Without a knowledge of the
country he could never pllot a branch of cat-
tle to the main herd, nor could he look up
strays, and finally other cattle men would
palm oil! the most miserable specimens upon
him film could not tell good beef from bad.
His readiness to distinguish and knowledge of
the various marks used to denote ownership,
are exceedingly important, especially in the
spring, as disputes frequently arise. All
these qualities 3. really good cowman excels
in, and when to these are added cheerfulness,
adaptability and good humor it is hard 2
find a more pleasant companion. The life
hard, but the freedom and excitement scam
in most instances to outweigh the hardships.
~Philadelphia Times.
Changes of Sentiment.
Among our other reforms is the present
crusade against lotteries It is queer how
public opinion changes. One of the purest
and wisest religious reformers that ever
lived—the founder of a great church—re-
corded the fact in his note book, about a
'century ago, that he had bought alottery
ticket, and had prayed that it might draw a
price. And yet he was possessed of as much
spiritual enlightenment as his followers of
today who brand lotteries as something
criminal.
In Philadelphia the steeple on Christ church
was built by a lottery, and in 1804 the Sec-
ond Baptist church of that city organized a
lottery.
Once congress authorized a lottery to raise
$100,000 to pay the troops.
The statesmen and divines of that age
would have been astounded if they had been
told that they were doing something that
was morally wrong.
We have had no new revelation—no new
Bible since those days, but we are getting so
progressive that we are ready to attach the
brand of moral infamy to the customs and
practices in vogue two or three generations
Are we right? How do we know that
we are rightl—Atlanta Constitution.
Can be Obtained
BY USING
GLINTDN’S
WITCH HAZEL
it is the on! re oration in the
f, world xvsrrsnteggculie and anthem
all impurities from the skin, suchu
Pin-Klee Salt Rheum,
, . Flee \E’orms and Sun
Burn. gives the complexion n szhness and translucent-
which cannot be obtained by any other, even by the dangerous unto
arsenic. his unequaled as a beautifier of the handsnefining
skin audma ingitsoft, clear and white. Witch Hazel Toilelcteam
is no: a pamt or powder used to cover up theim urities of the am,
but a remedy that heals perfectly and converts the same to enviabib
beauty. Price city}! box, 25:. For Sale BY A LL DRUGGIS
WITCH HAZEL IRAS? 60. GLINT'JNVILLE con
k ‘fil " .1“
FEOHTER’S FAMOUS
FAIRIOON No. 3.
fl PEERLESS HAIR DRESSER.
Preventsthehajrfrom mung out, almost immediate
starts a new growth. C1eansea the Scalp.
den and Scarf. Prevents Baldness. and
cure for all Diseases of the scalp. W111 preserve the
hair in all its vigor. Price 75cm. per bottle.
FAIBICON Nos. 1 and 2, price 31. per ha
isfor heads entirely or partially bald.
years’ baldness have been cured. Itleads the wor-
Warrantcd not to contain any sugar 0 lead, nitrate of
silver, or othcrpotsmwus ingredients. in not stain.
Sold by all druggists or sent on receipt of price.
Special course 810. Send for genuine testimonials to
FEOIITER REMEDY 00., New Haven, Conn.
Ilse Fairleou Tar Soap for Tnlk-t, Bath and Nursery.
it is Peerless for the Complexion, l'happed Hands or Bough akin-
For Sale ‘ ’i
\i:',.1.
-..
ii},
if
B
THE GREAT
German Remed .
TRUTHS FER THE SEEK.
those Ladies in delicate
th, who are all
on. _ down, should use
rt Will Br’r’i‘nns.
$1,000 will be aid
acascwherc UL.
Ilrr'rrzns will
assist or cure.
fails.
The Giant
is cured by
Br'r'rnns.
Cleanscthc
. when you see
impurities burst-
the skin
who
confined
and
suf
on
health fol
not
and sickly.
a gentle
SULPHUR
and you
be troubled.
be without
it'
not regret it, .
Sui hur Bitters.
two stamps to . Cc.
Lawrence, Mass, and receive an set of
Fancy Cardsfnee. .4
GENERAL MARKET.
Meat, Fish, Vegetables, to.
LOCKWOOD it LOCKWOOD,
MAIN STREET.
All kinds of the best qualities of Meals, ~Flsh,
Clams, Vegetables, etc, are kept constantly on
hand, and will be sold by us as low as can be pro-
cured at any market in Norwalk. We intend to
prove to our customers that we deserve their
patronage by fair and generous dealing.
1v40 LOCKWOOD it LOCKWUOD.
PETER L. GUIGUE,
FLORIST ENE SH YMAN,
UNION AVENUE,
North of Norwalk Cemetery,
NORWALE, - - come.
Dealer in In Green House and Hot House and
Bedding and Vegetable Plants, Fruit. and Ornamen
ta! Trees Shrubbery, Vines. Cut Flowers alway-
on hand and all sorts of designsin Flowers arrange
to order. 41w
Grading and Re—filling Cemetery Plots
promptly attended to.
Choice
BUILDING LOTS
(ON INSTALLMENT PLAN.)
FOR SALE
will
youup
strong
J
0n Wilton Avenue
——AND-—-
San Scum? Plot.
APPLY TO
A. ll. BYI-NGTON,
GAZETTE OFFICE.
Dressmahiuza .
DRESSMAKING done in all of the latest styles
Button holes made by hand. Old garments
re-cut and refitted.
MRS. FARR-IE MCKENZB, 1
No. 6 South Union Avenue,
Post office box 654. Norwalk.
Norwalk Chronicler