The Talihina News.
volume hi.
TALIHINA, CHOCTAW NATION, INDIAN TERRITORY, THURSDAY, JULY 1<>, 1894.
NUMBER 2.
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Presley I>. Cole,
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Attorney at Law,
Fouth McAlester I.T
SF.FF.RF.SCE:
Bank of South McAlester, J. T.
J. -A.. HALE.
Attorney at Law.
Bouth McAlester, Indian Territory
W. F. BLYTHE,
Attorney-at Law,
Fort Smith., -A.ric,
JOHN J. THOMAS,
NOTARY PUBLIC,
Talihina, : : s : : : I. T
#or All work dine neatly and
promptly. Pension claims a spec
laity. Fees reasonable.
W Marriage license obtained
On short notice. tf.
WftflM
EUBE TUTTLE
Freight, Wood, Water,
*-AND—
All Kinds of Hauling
, Mr i'urnttur*  «  4 with car*.
[Copyright. 1804, by
the Author.l
HE often sat to
Williot; he
liked her ex-
pression and
the Italian
tone in her
color. More-
over, lie grew interested in her from
certain words and hints she let fall.
6he was a devout Catholic, but ad-
mitted she had not always been so.
One day Williot led her on step by
step to tell her story, and how she had
become devout. They were discussing
matrimony in the abstract, and she ap-
peared so conversant with the law be-
tween man and wife that he asked
her how she knew it.
"How did I come to know the law?"
Bald she. "Well, because you see I
was brought up behind the scenes—
brirn in the property room of a provin-
cial theater, and educated to emerge
gracefully from pantomime pies or
gigantic rosebuds as a diminutive
fairy. With this refined birth and
training 1 learned many things not
generally imparted to children. At
any rate, verj' early 1 knew that a man
Could legally chastisc his wife, so long
as he never struck her with a stick
thicker than your little finger. I knew
this, I say, because 1 heard it explained
by the lawyers when my father was
sent to jail for having beaten my
mothor with something a good deal
thicker than the prescribed dimensions
permitted."
Williot smiled and suggested that
that edifying spectacle had apparently
not deterred her from taking a hus-
band herself.
"No," she answered, "and I was only
seventeen when I did marry/'
"How did that come about?*4
"Because 1 was a self-willed young
fool, and I thought I loved the other
self-willed young fool, who was our
assistant scene painter. I was playing
general utility in the theater, and he
was painting general Utility, as you
might call it"
"Did you love him then?" interposed
Williot.
"Yes, I saj' so, but I got to hate him
as well. Love and hate seemed ever
to go hand in hand with me all through.
First one was uppermost, then the
other. A contradictory, violent-tem-
pered young wretch I was. I never
tried to control my passions I'd never
been taught. My mother always said
I never had a heart; perhaps she was
right."
"Tell me, why did you hate your
husband?"
"Because I found he had a stronger
will than I had, and because he grew
to be more savage and morose as he got
on in his profession, oddly enough. He-
cause, too, he was as artful as he was
handsome; and he knew the law bet-
ter than my father. He never struck
me with a stick at all, thick or thin,
but once, and that once settled the
business, but I shall come to that pres-
ently. Yes, he was a clever fellow,
too, in his art. lie gave up scene-
painting and painted pictures instead
that sold at high prices. He used to
make me sit as his model often, and I
hated that more than anything. You
may wonder that I didn't run away
from him long before 1 did. The truth
Is I was afraid of him. lie cowed the
very life out of me. At one time he
made a lot of money, but he couldn't
keep it, and finally we had togo abroad
to avoid creditors.
We went to Rome, and lived there
several years. In those days an artist
could live there very cheaply, as we
did, but still he got into debt again,
and for months he was afraid to show
himself by daylight. You can guess
how we carried on, and if you can't it
won't matter, and so, as I've told you
so much, I'll come to that last scene
between us, which, as I say, settled
the business. I seemed to be quick at
languages, and picked up a good smat
tering of Italian, and being still pret-
ty he made me sit as a model for other
painters in "*r sometimes to get
food. He even went so far, and I
didn't mind, as to make me go and
wait in the Piazza di Spagna, on hire
with the native models. At first they,
were inclined to resent Sig. Iu-
glese's intrusion on their domain, but
they were good-natured people, and
put up with me after awhile.
"He was in hiding at that time, and
I had to go to and from home with the
greatest care, so as not to'betray our
whereabouts. My training on the
stage, and then as u model, made me
pretty nimble at disguises and wear-
ing strange dresses, and when I went
on hire to the piazza.
"We lived in a curious half-ruined
place, part of what had once been the
chapel of a Benedictine monastery. We
hired it of a kindly old monk for a song,
but no one else lived in the building
—we were there quite alone. I forget
exactly where it was, but it was out-
side the city, on the edge of the Cara-
pagna. We had a small room where
he painted, with part of it divided by
a curtain where we slept. At the foot
of the short stone stair leading up to
this apartment from the outer door,
another stone stair led down to a sort
of vault or crypt, lighted up by a
barred window. At the end of this
were the remains of a little shrine,
with a dilapidated figure of the Vir-
gin. and on one side, against the wall
a stone bench. It was what he called
a picturesque bit, and he made a study
of it
"About this time—it was Christmas
—a notorious brigand chief had been
capiured, and was brought to Koine,
secured hand and foot, amidst tremen
before the shrine with up-stretched
arms and clasped hands in the attitude
of supplication. The background was
all there to his hand without stirring
out of doors, and I, of course, had to
sit or kneel as the praying wife. With-
out exception it was the most trying,
tiring attitude I had ever assumed.
My knees and back lost all sensation,
and the uplifted arms simply seemed to
go dead after half an hour. Why
didn't I rest? you will ask. Be-
cause I daren't till he gave me leave.
The crosses of our fortunes had turned
him into a regular savage, and he was
at his worst while painting this pic-
ture. For hours he kept ine kneeling
there day after day. Once I grew
faint, but luckily just then he saidi
•You can rest,' so he didn't know it
Another time when iny hands and arms
were all pins and needles. I plea led
for a pause. He refused It. I went
on. Then I couldn't help saying a
little. He swore at me. I steadied
myself. At last, without any warning
or will of mine, ni}' arms dropped on
my lap. and I fell forward, my chin on
the altar. With a big oath he rose
furious.
"'You've ruined my work, you
devil!' he cried, 'just at a most critical
point, when I was finishing your left
hand. Up again instantly or I'll be
the death of you,' and he roughly
placed me in the old attitude.
"Ten minutes later the same thing
happened. I couldn't help it Again
he rose* and this time he struck me
Violently across the back and shoulders
with his mahl stick, which was no
thicker than his finger. This was the
first time he'd ever struck me badly as
he'd behaved, and it was the last. I
never loved him after that. No, kind
heaven never gave me the chance, for
after the blow I did faint, and when 1
recovered I was lying where I fell. He
had not even lifted me from the
ground. No, but he had stretched
himself at full length upon the stone
bench, and was sound asleep.
"Escape was my first thought—re-
venge the second—and as I stoody up,
the second overwhelmed the first.
Noiselessly I crept to where lay, amidst
many studio properties, the brigand's
poignard. Often I had dreamt of this,
and had seen it glitter in my hand, but
in the dreams opportunity was want-
ing. Now, both were realities. I would
use them mercilessly. Night was com-
ing on. I could escape under its cover.
Whither fly, or how to live after-
wards, I gave these things no thought
as I stood with the weapon raised
above his naked throat Did I lack
courage? No. sincerely no. What, then,
made me suddenly pause and liston?
Footsteps? Yes, faint and distant on
the road, running near our abode.
Alone, they would not have deterred
me, but above them rose upon the still-
ness a chant—a chant from some re-
ligious procession, pilgrims probablj',
passing towards the city to do homage
at the shrine of the Holy Bambino in
"I CRKPT TO WHKRE HE I.AT."
the church of Ara Cu>li, for was it not
Christmas Eve? The sounds oame
nearer. Full, strong, melodious—deep-
ly impressive.
"Stranger that I had ever been tq
religion and its emotions, it was
odd how, when I came to Rome a faint
suggestion of something akin to them
had gradually stolen into my being. I
think the music in the churches did it,
and many times I would have gone in
to listen, perhaps to pray, had 1 known
how, and had I dared. My husband
was a scoffer.
"The singer|npproached until 1 could
almost hear some of the Latin words
It seemed miraculous even to my sell
that they should affect me as thej
were doing. I strained my ears tc
catch the prayer. Strange it woulc
have been at any moment that itshoulc
have so fascinated me, but now most oJ
all strange when my blood was red
hot with fury and passion; and wher
revenge for all my wrongs was lying
within my grasp! Was it intercession
from above, an intercession for hi*
life? It struck me so at the-moment
Only later did I see. perhaps, that it
was an intercession on my behalf also,
but at the time I never thought of this,
and I spared him. I paused no longer.
Turning my back resolutely on the
temptation, I stole away up the stairs,
softly, softly out under the stars now
beginning to twinkle in their myriads.
I followed the procession, and inixed
amongst the little crowd of villager?
also following.
"That night I sought the old monk,
our padrone, and told him my story.
He was moved, and said the Messed
Virgin had performed a miracle ami
had taken me to her bosom, heretic
though I was, for she saw in me a soul
to be saved. I now know he was
right.
"By his aid I concealed myself from
my husband, but there way no need to
so long. The saints, their names be
praised, had vet another hlesaing in
store for me. They had not only ros
cued me from the commission of u
dreadful crime but they spared me iui
necessity. Three days later the good
Id monk went to our rooms, and
found—yes! found—my husband still
stretched as in sleep upon the stone
bench as 1 left him, but he was in the
sleep from which there is no waking.
"The story is still cited as a miracle,
dous excitement It gave my husband and. although it is a long time since it
an idea for a subject: 'The Wounded I happened, the few good Catholics
Brigand in Hiding. He depicted the I amongst the painters still use me by
man lyiug with head bound up, etc., preference as their model ou its ao
in this crypt, with the wife kneeliug oount "
OVER-JUMPED BY A LION.
TOi«' Man Saved II In Life nn«| the Ilea*)
MlNflcd h Mewl.
As to grizzly bears," said a Montana
man one evening, recently, "as to griz-
zly bears, we've got plenty of 'em left
in our country, but unless you are look-
ing for them you might travel the trails
and byways for five years and not get
sight of old Ephriain. As big and sav-
age as they are they avoid mankind
when it's possible. I've heard 'em mov-
ing off in the thickets many a time as I
rode along a wild trail, but in fifteen
years I have had a fair sight of only
one. and he was anxious to get away."
"How al>out the mountain lion?" was
Asked.
"Ah; you've struck quite another
field now," he replied. The mountain
lion of the far west is not a Hon at all,
as you probably know, but is the beast
known in the east as the panther. I
think, however, the western panther
is larger and fiercer. At any rate, all
things cohsidered, I'd prefer to face a
grizzly."
"Ever had any experience?"
"Yes, just one. and it makes my hair
stand on end to think of it. I'm half-
owner of a good, big herd of steers, but
I wouldn't go through that experience
again for a thousand of the fattest,
juiciest steers ever rounded up in the
cattle country. You want to hear
alsxit it, but it's no use to get out your
book and pencil. My experience
was very brief, and there are no
names and dates to put down. Look on
the map some day and find Flat Head
lake. Between it and the Rocky moun-
tains is a beautiful valley thirty miles
wide. I've wintered cattle in there and
had them come out as fat as butter in
the spring."
"Yes, go on."
"One spring, eight or ten years ago,
I was driving in some 'strays' from the
foothills. When cattle begin to shed
their coats they like to get into the tim-
ber and rub themselves. About ten
o'clock in the forenoon I was riding
nlong an Indian trail on the slope of a
hill. It was in the timlnir, with lots of
brush covering the ground. I saw cattle
tracks on the trail, and had no thought
for anything else. My mustang was
on the walk and I was taking it easy
in the saddle, when I was suddenly
jumped out of my boots. Something
screamed in my ear, ami out of the cor-
ner of my eye I saw something in the
air. No doubt I ducked, but it was in-
stinct In the same breath there was
a great crash in the top of a brush to
my right and below me. and just as my
mustang started on a wild run I made
out what the object was."
"A mountain lion, sir?"
"Yes, and a whopping big one. anc
the snarls, growls and screams he ut
tered lifted me in my stirrups, lb
landed in that bush on his back, witl
his legs sticking up like posts, but '
don't reckon it took him over five sec
onds to turn rightside up. He may
have started to follow me, though he
was more apt to slink away, but the
mustang would have given him a hard
race. He was wild with fright, and the
way he did smoke along that trail ami
get down into the valley would have
made a jack-rabbit wonder how the
wings were fastened on. I held on
and let him go. As a matter of fact,
he wasn't going fast enough for me."
"The lion had jumped for you."
"He had, my boy. I went up and
figured it out afterward. The beast
had crouched on a big rock eighteen
feet above me and about twenty-four
feet above the trail. Just how close he
came to me I can't say, but I'm cer-
tain that he brushed my hat as he
passed over. The duck probably saved
iny life. If he had struck me with the
momentum of such a spring I'd have
been carried out of the saddle into the
bushes. The cuss was lying low for
beef or deer, but when I eame along he
thought he had a better thing. As be
missed me he turned over in the air,
and as I told you, he landed wrong-side
\ip. I don't know how mountain lions
feel al>out such things, but I've always
had the idea that this fellow went off
\lcking himself over the way he got
left, lie had overjumped a good dinner
and couldn't blame anybody but him-
self."—Detroit Free Press.
Flint and Tinder Still I'ned.
Although the match has long since
.upplanted the tinder box, thousands
of the antiqated light producers are
still made. Adventurers often take a
Hint and tinder box with them on trips,
knowing from experience that if slower
than a fhatch it is certainly surer, and
in addition to the demand this creates,
there are back country regions in Eu-
rope where the match is comparatively
unknown, even now. Then again the
white man with his usual ultra sonsa-
tiveness does not see any harm in ship-
ping tinder boxes, and even the oldest
kinds of gun flints to the savages of
Africa, who derive sincere delight from
using them, especially as the traders
are careful to explain that the one is an
improvement on the match and the
other a great stride toward perfection
in firearms.—Chicago Herald.
A Terrible Kicker.
"Please sir," said the * ol 1 boy to a
Texas hotel clerk, "number 40 says
there ain't no towels in his room."
"Tell him to use one of the window
curtains."
"He says, too, there ain't no pil«
lows."
"Tell him to put his coat and vest
under his head."
"And he wants a pitcher of water."
"Suffering Cyrus! But he is the
worst kicker I ever struck in my life.
Carry him up the horse pail."
"He wants to know if he can have a
light"
"Here, confound him! Give him this
lantern and ask him if he wants the
earth, and if he'll have it fried on only
one side or turned over?"—Alex Sweet,
In Texas Siftings.
Popular Production*.
"I'm not much of a literary man my
self," said the cashier of the big pub-
lishing house, filling out another cheek,
"and yet my writings are more sought
af er than those of any other man
al out the establishment "—Chicago
Ti tbune-
SCHOOL AND CHURCH.
—The largest Sunday-school library
In the world is in Washington, I). C. It
is the property of the Assembly Pres-
byterian church.. The librarian is J.C,
Strout, of the senate library.
—Mrs. 1). Hayes Agncw, widow of
Prof. Agnew, has given 925,000 to the
university of Pennsylvania, and the
new wing of the hospital is to l ear the
professor's name as a mark of apprecia-
tion for her generosity.
—The report of United States Com-
missioner of Education Harris shows
that for the year ended June. 1801, the
total number of public and private
scholars of all grades in the schools of
the country is almost 15,000,000*
—There arc said to be 28,000 schools
and 3,410,000 pupils in Japan, but not-
withstanding the interest in education
exhibited in that country there arc on-
ly six government high schools or
normal schools which admit girls.
— The American Sunday school union
has received for its missionary work
during the past year 5120,158 as against
8109,238 for the previous year. It has
employed 138 men, organized 1,785 new
Sunday schools, with 08,278 teachers
and scholars, reorganized 489 schools
and aided 8,303.
—In I). L. Moody's Bible institute at
Chicago the students enrolled in 1893
were: Women, 195; men, 381; transients,
85. Denominations represented: Wi
en, 10; men, 35. Thirty-one states of
the United States, Canada, Turkey,
India, Japan, Scotland, Ireland, En-
gland, (icrmany, Sweden, Switzerland,
Denmark, Russia, Persia, Norway, Bo-
hemia. West Indies, South Africa,
Hawaii and New Zealand were repre-
sented. —Chicago Standard.
—The board of education of the Meth-
odist Episcopal church shows an in-
come of $87,658, of which $70,000 was
collected from Sunday schools and
churches. The number of students as-
sisted is 1,416 in 1(H) different schools
throughout the world and of twenty-
four nationalities. Seventy-seven per-
sons aro studying for the ministry or
missionary work. The complete list of
the educational institutions of the
church shows that there are 202, with
over forty-three thousand students, and
property and endowments valued at
926,583,000, and an annual income of
11,810,171.
—In the year which has just closed
the total receipts of the American Bible
society were 9662,729.80. The total
cash disbursements for general pur-
poses amounted to $676,792.03. In the
direction of the translation and revision
of the Scriptures much lias l een ac-
complished in the last year. The prep-
nration of an edition of the Bible in an-
cient Armenian has l>ccn completed,
and several portions of the Bible in the
Siamese language have been revised.
The Scriptures printed and purchased
during the year have amounted to
1,559,000 volumes, of which 1,188,775
were printed on the presses in the Biblo
house. The volumes issued from the
Bible House numbered 1,089,960; in for-
eign lands, 407,099.—Christian Work.
THEY SEEK THEIR MEAT.
Pathrtir Little Story of the Stubborn Lam-
by and the Hungry KuRletit.
The lamb stopped nursing, and the
ewe, moving forward two or three steps,
tried to persuade it to follow her. She
was anxious that it should as soon as
possible learn to walk freely, so they
might together rejoin the flock. She
felt that the open pasture was full of
dangers.
The lamb seemed afraid to take so
many steps. It shook its ears and
bleated piteously. The mother returned
to its side, caresscd it anew, pushed it
with her nose, and again moved away a
few feet, urging it to go with her.
Again the feeble little creature refused,
bleating loudly At thin moment there
came a terrible hissing rush out of the
sky, and a great form 'fell upon the
lamb. The ewe wheeled and charged
madly; but at the same instant the
eagle, with two mighty buffetings of
his wings, rose beyond her reach and
soared away toward the mountain. The
lamb hung liinp from his talons, and
with piteous cries the ewe ran beneath,
gazing upward, and stumbling over hil-
locks and juniper bushes.
In the nest of the eagles there was
content. The pain of their hunger ap-
peased, the nestlings lay dozing in the
sun, the neck of one resting across the
back of the other. The triumphant
male sat erect upon his perch, staring
out over the splendid world that dis-
played itself beneath him. Now and
again he half lifted his wings and
screamed joyously at the sun. The
mother bird, perched upon a limb on
the edge of the nest, busily rearranged
her plumage. At times she stooped her
head into the nest to utter over her
sleeping eaglets a soft chuckling noise,
which seemed to eoine from the very
bottom of her throat.
Hut hither and thither over the round
bleak hill wandered the ewe, calling
for her lamb, unmindful of the flnek
which had been moved to other pas-
tures.—Charles G. D. Roberts, in Lip-
pi ncott's.
Utility of snip Models.
Many of those elaborate models ot
sailing ships made by the sailors of all
seafaring nations and representing
often the occupation of hundreds of
leisure hours, find their way at last to
the shops of the dealers in junk or an-
tiques. Their purchasers are frequent-
ly artists and illustrators, who find in
these tiny but faithful reproductions of
great ships the best available model.,
for studio work. A perfect example of
the sort is sure to fctch a good pri.«,
even at second hand. Some of the best
are made by Italians, because Mnall
barks and full-rigged ships of moderate
tonnage are commoner to Italian com-
merce than to that of most other na-
tion#, and it is the vessel with square
sails and abundant cordage that lends
itself best to the purposes of the illus-
trator.—N. Y. Sun.
—I'pstreete—"Do you take any stock
in the saying that money talks?"
Frontpew—"I've known it to—er—have
something to do with call* to preach '
-Buffalo Courier
A COLLEGE-BRED FARMER.
Ho Think* tliat Work in the l l«-Id* In the
Ideal Kxlxtriire.
William Henry Hishop, in an article
 n "Hunting an Abandoned Farm in
I'pper New England," describes the de-
lightful home of a literary man and his
family on the shores of take Winipise'H
gee. The house was simplicity itself,
lie says, rather a camp than a villa, and
it purposely held as little as possible to
give a housekeeper any uneasiness.
A son of the family above adverted to
was settled about as far from Center
Harbor, down Lake Asquam, as was his
father from it on Lake Winipiseogee.
His pastures rose steeply to the bold
crag of Red hill; in front of him lay
long, slender islands, like black steam-
ers at anchor, and across the lake rose
upon the view Black mountain, White-
face, Rattlesnake hill, and Chpcorua.
varying all their tones with the
passing hours. The young pro-
prietor was a College man, and
had pursued for awhile some
city occupation; but he had taken to
farming out of pure love of it, and not
the worst severities of winter had l>een
able to daunt him. He hoed with his
men in planting time, pitched hay with
them in haying time, and lugged his
own heavy buckets of sap through the
snow in early spring, in maple-sugar
time. It was a vindication of the ideal,
a testimony to the world of actual,
hard physical labor, which, for us,
despite the disparagement of the indo-
lent and the maledictions of the work-
ing man—who gets something too much
of it is most desirable, a beautiful,
beneficent thing. We please to marvel
when a city person goes off heartily in-
to the country, and yet the following
paradox is true, namely, that it is city
people who are precisely the best-fitted
for the country. Your average denizen
of the country has no appreciation of
natural scenery, never raises his eyes
to notice it. scarce knows that it exists;
th'JS he suffers all the disadvantages of
the country without its principal com-
pensation'—Century.
JOINED IN THE LAUGH.
A llOfT-b-Kifrd Admiral Who Win Mlfliinder-
stood by a HtilldoK.
"Sailors, like horsemen, have a ten-
dency to become bow-legged," said
Capt. S. Wooden, an ex-navy officer, re-
cently. "I once saw an old admiral,
whose long sea service had given his
legs a decided outward curvature, have
a singular adventure with a bulldog
that was a pet aboard ship. The sail-
ors had taken great pains with the
dog's education and taught him a num-
ber of tricks. One of his most fre-
quent exploits was to jump through the
aperature made by the man holding
one of his feet against the other knee.
It was a trick that the dog seemed
take great delight in performing.
One day the admiral came on
board the ship on a visit of inspec-
tion. and while standing on deck con-
versing with some of the officers was
spied by the dog. The admiral's bow-
legs seemed to strike the dog as afford-
ing the best chance for a running leap
he had seen in many a day. Suddenly
he made a rush and leapt like a whirl-
wind through the tempting gap. In
astonishment at what had passed be-
neath him, the admiral turned quickly
around to see what was the cause. The
dog took this action as a signal for an
"encore" and jumped again, barking
furiously all the time as a means of
showing how he much he enjoyed the
sport. The liowildered face of the ad-
miral was too much for the gravity of
the spectators, and, forgetting the re-
spect due to rank they broke into a
hearty roar, in wh eh. after he under-
stood the situation, they were joined
by the admiral himself."—St Louis
'ilobe-Democrat.
< ruelty (.. it I.inn.
A lion tamer was brought into court
by the Royal Societv for the Prevention,
of Cruelty to Animals of London on the
charge of "cruelly beating, ill treating
and torturing a certain animal, to-wit,
a lion." Lions were in a cage wherein
a woman executed a serpentine dance,
and were whipped and irritated to a
state of bad temper to make them suffi-
ciently wild to gratify the vulgar taste
of the public. The prosecution alleged
that the lion, being dependent on man
for food and sustenance and under his
dominion, could not be regarded as
fene natura*. The lion tamer hustled
the lions about with a whip and a pole,
in order to give an excitement to the
lady's dance. The judgment of the
court was, that the lion could not be
made into a domestic animal within the
meaning of the act. ami the Hon tamer
was discharged.—Chicago Times.
By Mereiit Chance.
It was a narrow escape.
The strong man shuddered and wiped
the beads of perspiration from his brow.
"Good heavens!" he said; "another
moment and then
It was several moments before he re-
covered sufficiently to resume his task.
For once again he had come within
an ace of dipping the mucilage brush
in the ink.—Truth.
—During the thirteen years in which
Dr. William Pepper served as provost
of the university of Pennsylvania, he
has not only declined a salary, but has
given the university from twenty thou-
sand to thirty thousand dollars a year
besides his time. H« says the uni-
versity is strong enough now lor him
to retire, and he has resigned. A gift
of fifty thousand dollars accompanied
his resignstion. The board of trustees
have decided iih ""confer upon hiin the
degree of LL. D., and to erect a statue
>f him on a Mutable site.
—"Poor man!" exclaimed the sympa-
thetic woman. "Have you really tried
to get employment? ' "Yes'in," replied
Meandering Mike. "And without suc-
cess?" "Intirely. For three solid days
I've tramped the streets trying tor git
work fur me nine-year-old brother, and
hain't even got so much ez an inoour-
agin' word."— Washington Star.
—"Don't you think Miss Biggs has a
peachy complexion?" She i d not
thought of it before, but she has a kijpl
o! frost-bitten look."—InWr-Ocean.
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
— Henry W. Orady, a son of the Geor-
gla orator, has just la-en admitted to
the bar at Atlanta, after passing with
credit a severe examination. He resem-
bles his father both in appearance and
mental endowment.
—Miss Olive Schreiner, since mar-
riage, has lieeome it seems, simply Mrs.
Olive Schreiner. Her husband, shar-
ing his wife's advanced and progressive
views, has added her name to his and
become Mr. ('ronwright Schreiner.
— -"Fagging" had become entirely ob-
solete at Eton. Thirty years ago it was
carried on with great brutality. The
story of "Tom Brown at Hugby" has, it
is said, done more to kill the old sys-
tem in English colleges than any other
agency.
— Dr. Cyrus Teed, of Chicago, the
founder of the strange religion known
as Korcsh, is sw>n to buy a plot of land
in Florida, thirty-six miles square.
This will constitute the "Heaven" of
the Korcsh cans; and in its center he
will build a temple, to cost $300,000,000.
—Japan is not only adopting the ma-
terial civilization of the west, but is as
eagerly assimilating its literature.
Many standard English novels have
lately been translated into Japanese,
and ten-cent paper editions of Dickens
in the vernacular are especially popu-
lar.
—The lady who has won fame and
fortune as a song-writer under the
name of Hope Temple is shortly to lie
married to M. Andre Mesaagcr, the
French composer of light operas Miss
Temple, who is very fair and pictur-
esque in appearance, has for the last
year resided in Paris. Her real name
is Davis, and her intimate friends call
her "Doty." Among her many sisters
is Mrs. Sam Lewis.
—The king of Italy has conferred
upon Prof. Vlrehow, the famous Ger-
man surgeon, the grand cross of the
order of St. Maurice and Lazarus.
Prof. Virchow is one of those men who
seem to have time for everything. He
Is a university professor, an editor, a
contributor to numerous journals, a
politician, and finds opportunity to at-
tend the meetings of scores of societies
to which he belongs.—N. Y. Tribune.
—Julia Ward Howe began the study
of ancient Greek in her old age, but
probably with no greater interest than
that with which Queen Victoria took up
Hindustani at seventy. That was three
years ago. and her majesty has added a
staff of Hindoo servants to her house-
hold, to whom she gives orders in Hin-
dustani, and whenever a rajah from
her far eastern dominions visits her pal-
ace she converses with him in his na-
tive tongue.
—Congressman McCleary, of Minne-
sota, is the schoolmaster of the house.
He was for many years a professor of
political science hi the Minnesota state
normal school, and has written a num-
ber of school books that are wide-
ly usetl His election to congress was
totally unexpected. As state institute
conductor, he had occasion to travel
all over the state twice a year, and to
this fact and to the acquaintance which
it gave him he owes his seat in con-
gress. He was one of the few men in
the house who were elected contrary to
their own swishes.
HUMOROUS.
— Rocksly—"Going to the soaside
with your wife this summer?" Wed-
wealth—"Yes, if she'll let me."—N. Y.
Herald.
—He (driving with a young lady)—"I
never try to do more than one thing at
a time." The "Then let me drive, Mr
Squeezeman." Brooklyn Life.
—Tompkins—"Did your new play
meet with a warm reception?" Van
Cleve—"Well, rather. The critics lit-
erally roasted it." Harlem Life.
—"I hear Bilker lost his job. Wonder
if he's struck anything since?" "Er—
yes; all of his friends and two-thirds of
his acquaintances."—Buffalo Courier.
—Enamored Youth—"May I hope to
find a place in your heart?" Lady-love
(fin de sieclc)—"If you hurry up. There
sire only a few choicc locations left."—
Tit-Bits.
A Verdant Diet.—"Why, John, I
thought you said'like never eats like?' "
'Well, isn't that right?" "No; for I
M-c your are eating greens."—Detroit
Free Press.
—"Now that your son has finished at
college, will lie teach?" Mr. Hayloft—
"He was going to, but ho can't find
nine young men round here who care
to learn foot ball or tennis."—Chicago
Tribune.
—"I think Mrs. frank ford must be
getting on beautifully with her lessons
at cooking school." Mrs. Fling—"Did
her husband mention it?" "No, but
he's taking all his meals down town
now."—Inter-Ocean.
—Willie—"Grandma must bo dread-
fully, dreadfully wicked, isn't she?"
Mamma—"Why, what do you mean?
Of course she isn't!" Willie "Well,
she told ine her own self that the good
die young."—Inter-'  ocan.
—Gump "1 wish a follow could boi*
row niuMV as easily as he can l orrow
trouble." Hump 'If you could make
money as easily as you can make^"^
trouble, you wouldn't need to "Borrow
any."—Boston Transcript
—He—"Was yom- father angry when
yoo piritiffnncd my name to him?" Sho
—*Tn a perfect rage. ' lb' Then I
suppose no will never give his eon-
sent?" She—"Yes, he will; it was lie-
cause you had not asked sooner."—
Inter-Ocean.
—Inquiring Son—"Papa. what
reason?" Fond Parent "Reason, my
boy, i« that which enables a man to de-
termine what is right." InquiringSon
—''And what is instinct?" l-'ontl Par-
ent "Instinct is that which tells a
a woman she is right whether she is or
not" Tit-Bits.
—Mr. Gibbs—"Jimpson didn't come
down t«i the office to-day: sent word
that he wasn't able to speak a word."
Mrs. Gibbs—"Mercy! What is the mat-
ter with him?" Mr.Gibbs— "It'seither
an attuek of paralysis, or his wife in
home and there's uo chance for him
got lu a word luter-Oc#%