The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on March 23, 1892 · Page 6
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, March 23, 1892
Page 6
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UPPJBfc DES ALGOttA, IOWA, . . ^ . ___ > -_. -i ji . MABCH 23 It is Well. •"*»'» r-llcmwTTO icllg Ltldl j shines on our ratfelied And though thfe tender /ties fc-o try to . Stfcngtlidii . ' .' .-.*• Break one by one—ftt evetilng time 'tis light. 'Tig WDlli Tlie way was often dull and weary; T The Bp.lrtt fainted oft beneath Its load; from skies all gray nnd No sunshine cnmo tirenry. And yet bur feet were tound to tread that road. Tls well that not Ogaln'our heart? shall shiver Beneath old sorrows once so bard to boar; That not again beside death's dnrksome river Shall we deplore the good,the loved, the fair. No more, with tears wrought from deep inner anguish, . . Shall wo bewail the dear hopes crushed and gone; No hiore need we in doubt Or fear to languish, Bo far the day is past, the Journey done. As voyagors, by fierce winds beat and broken, Come into port beneath tho calmer sky; Bo We, still bearing on our brows tho token Of tempest past, draw to our haven nigh. As sweeter air comes from tho shores immortal, Inviting homeward at the day's decline, Almost wo see whore from tho open portal lair forms stand beckoning with thel .divine. loir forms earth with all her myriad ajro. '• Tls well I The voices Has lost the power our senses to enthrall, wo hear, above tho tumult and the noises, Boft tones of music, like an angel's call. ' 'Tls well, 0 friends 1 Wo should not turn—retracing The long, vain years, nor call our lost youth back; Gladly, with spirits braced, the future facing, . We leave behind tho dusty, footworn track. —Chambers' Journal. AT CROSS PURPOSES. "Beautiful!" said Mr. Clever, ecstatically. "Lxquisito!" echoed Mrs. Clever, standing on tiptoe, to poop over her husband's shoulder. ' . "Who's the artistP" said Mr. Clover putting up his eye-glasses. "Donnavetti, of Home," responded Bpmo one who chanced to be nearer the Bight-line than ho himself was. "And what is the subject?" demanded Mr. Clever, who, being a business man, was not quite posted in poetic lore. "A lady tlivinityP" "Ophelia!" interposed Mrs. Clover, briskly. : "Oh % !" said her husband, "from Ghak- spcare? 'King Lear,' ain't it?" "Hamlet!" corrected Mrs. Clever. "Oh, yes, 'Hamlet,'" nodded her husband. "I knew it must bo in some of those comedies." "It's a tragedy!" "What's the difference? It's all one in tho end. But really that picture's something different from the common. I wonder if 1 could get tho artist, to paint duo for mo like it?" "Hardly," said a connoisseur, who was standing near. "1 don't mind expense," assorted Mr. Clever, loftily (which wasn't strictly true, for lie did.) "Yes,-but unfortunately Donnavetti, of Koine, died twenty-odd years Mr. Clover's countenance fell. "Oh!" said lie, "I. was rather struck by tho picture—that's all." "So was I," said Mrs. Clover; "such a swoct face—and the shadows on tho water so perfect! And only look at the blue-flags and rushes along the shore." "I think there are ono or two engravings of it, yet extant," remarked Mr. Poulotte, tho connoisseur. "And n stool-engraving is next best to an oil- painting, you know." "Any, chromosP" said Mr. Clever, pricking up his oars. "•ChromosP 1 " scornfully echoed old Poulotte. "Of Donnavetti, of Home?" '^Horrid!" chimed in. Mrs Clover. "Why, 1 got a chromo yesterday with a trial pound of tea that I bought—a mere rod-iind-yollow daub. Nobody tolerates chromos nowadays." tto Mr. and Mr. Clover 'went homo from Moidorc Million's picture-gallery opened for ;i week to the public,'to help along some limping charity—on artistic thoughts intent. "1 iiovor saw Mr. Clover so interested in a picture," pondered the lady. "I'll sin-prise him with ono of tliosu engravings for our anniversary present, if it can bo obtained. Although I didn't really fancy it:." "Maria was perfectly fascinated with that sprawling woman in the water," reflected Mr. Clever. '-Tastes differ. Give me a good, red-hot bat tip-piece or a landscape with plenty of sunshine. But if money'll buy the 'Ophelia,' it shall be Maria's on tho anniversary of our wedding-day." Mr. Clever dealt in hides and leather ou Spruce street—a lucrative business, although not an aristocratic one—and just around the corner an old Jewish picture-dealer lurked, like a human spider in his don. To Mr. Klias- soii our hero hastened and explained liis wishes. • "Yosli, yosh, I uudnrshtaud," nodded Mr. Eliasson. "Dero is one at Montoni's, but it coshts—all, mine faith, it coshts its weight in gold! Jt ish rare—very rare. And dere ish only one ill-do country." "What would it cost?" asked Clever with his hands in his pockets and ono foot tapping Hie fender. ' _ I'Sliovunt.y-livo dollarsh," said Mr. Kliassnn, after a hurried calculation that tho engraving might cost him twenty. '•Order it, then, and don't let a soul know who your order's fur. Mum's tho word." "1 uiidershtand, sir. 1 undorstlmnd." Mrs. Clever made haste to her friend Mr. Poulett. "Mr. Poulott." she said, "1must have that engraving—by What's-liis-nahui, '•but it's just been, ordered." "Ordered!" •'---' " "Yes. By old Eliassen." "How much did he give you?* dues- tioned Ponlett. . "Twenty dollars." "Put him off, can't you? I'll give thirty." . & "Well," said the clerk, dubiously stroking his chin, 'Til try and see what can be done; but Eliassen's a crusty fellow to deal with. I can write him ft note, though, and say old'Mentoni himself had sold the picture without my^ knowledge." Kliassen trudged around that same evening in a rage and bade still high- en so that M. Montnni's veracious cierK gravely informed'Mr. Poulett that though sorry to disoblige a cus* tomer, they could not really resell a picture which had once been orderdd. It was contrary to'their principles. "Come," said Poulett, "that's all talk! If I give yon $40 for it--" "Quite out of the question,", said the clerk, who had been offered the same sum by Ezra Eliassen. "Fifty, then. '-It's more than it's worth, but my friend rather fancies lit ' ' ' The clerk stroked his chin again. ; "Well—if it's a possible thing to import another in time for old. Eliassen." "How soon does he want itP" "By the 3d of February, without fail." ' "Very singular," said. Mr. Poulctte. "My customer named the same day. I say, Jackiiigton. I must have it at any price. Couie! I'll give you soventv- ,. . give you seventy- live down for the picture, possession to bo given at once." And Mr. Jackiiigton closed the gain. The picture bar- neatly packed, was delivered to Mr. Poulott.' who imnip duittdy informed his fair client thai, the "Ophelia" could not bo bought for less than a hundred." . • "A hundred dollars? Oh my!" said Mrs. Clover. "A hundred dollars— for a mere engraving." "But such an engraving, ma'am," bowed Mr. Poulett. "One .of the finest, specimens of art in the country. It will bo a gem, a perfect gem." "Well," said Mrs. Clever, recklessly, "I'll take it. Not that I should ever care to look at it twice—but it's Clover's taste." Old Ezra Eliassen shook his head and Mr. Glover came around the next day to see if <ho had .purchased the "Ophelia." "Montoni's copy is sold," said he; "for a hundred dollars!" ".Sold! Oh, hang it," bawled Clever. "But there's one thing, whoever paid a hundred dollars for that thino- was a full-sized fool." "I could import one like it for tho same money," said Eliasson, 'watchinn- his customer's face. "Could you, though? By the 8d of February?" "I guessli sho!" "ImportIt, thon! I'll not be balked," said Mr. Clever, bringing his clenched hand down on the rail of old Eliassen's desk. "It's more than I can afford and three times what the thing is worth, but Maria likes it, ; and Maria shall bo suited for once in life. But mind, it must be on the spot by the 3d of February, or not a'red cent "do you get!" • • • . • ' "There shall be no mistake," nodded Ezra Eliasson. • ,' The 3d of February came; and Mrs! Clover radiantly awaited her husband's appearance in the breakfast-room, with a brown paper package all twined and sealed on tho table. Enters Mr. Clever with a ditto package under his arm. "Dearest," said Maria, "This is the tenth anniversary of our bridal 'day. Accept this memento 1 of lova." And sho gave him brawn paper parcel "Hello!" said Mr.'Clover. "And I've got something for you, Maria," handing her brown paper parcel No. 2. "Oh, a thousand thanks!" sighed Maria. . , : , .- , - ." "Much obliged, I'm sure," said Mr. Clover. And they both wont to work with scissors and penknife at the twine and papor. Anil;'out of both wrappings emerged—the. same fair, iloaUng "Ophelia," in the same "glassy stream," with. tho same blue-lla<*s blossoming along its edge'. " • • ° Mr. and Mrs. Clever looked at each and then at the "Ophelias." "I meant to surprise you, love " gasped Mrs. Clever.';.' "And "you've thought of the very same tliino-. HOW kind of you!" . "By Jove, I am surprised!" said Mr. Clever, blankly. "Two of 'em! And DISREPUTABLE BOB. Irregular in Habits He Yet ot True GentuB. He came staggering down the basement stairs yesterday at headquarters, the most disreputable, blear-eyed, drunken Bob that you could possibly see, says the N. Y. Herald. He did not stagger far; but came tumbling down heels over head and tried to sneak out of sight under the office desk. He had beeh. on a spree since Christmas, and Mr. Hastings did not know what to do with such a case. It seemed Well nigh a hopeless one. However, he gaVe Bob a good cutting' and the latter curled up on the floor and tried to sleep 'it off. "1 don't know what to do with him," said Hastings in despair.. "I've a mind to send him up to White Plains and pump him full of bichloride of gold. He seems utterly beyond the reach of moral suasion." Bob Hastings is the hardest drinker in Mulberry street. His character and habits are well known to the authorities there, from Siipt. Murray and Inspector Byrnes down to the doormen and clerks. They ought to be, for these gentlemen have seen him staggering about in front of tho marble building many's the time. They all know what a superb intellect, ho has and deplore the appetite which is. pulling him down into the gutter, and which must inevitably land him in the potter's field or in some eqwally hope- loss place. There is not a cat— I the carriage went 'thundering away to .the president's improvised quarters. MISSING More than one honest tear was shed on that dismal stage and the heartaches were genuine and as much for little 'Tad' as for the great loss to the nation. . • •••••• "Some one had whispered the news .to our audience and the performance, of course, was not Finished.'A panic could not have cleared the house more promptly. , "We did not open again for many weary weeks-. Nobody had time or in- E ^fsli hVmeV Frances Willard's name clmation for-the theatre in those high- . a0watc hword and an inspiration, tension days. Washington was """ One French Waterloo officer ift still fclive. ' Rio Janeiro's principal street is only thirty feet wide. There are 1,116 characters in- the books which Dickens Wrote. Lillian Russell denies that she is contemplating any ventures. Lady Somerset further matrimonial says that in many Oh, yes, Bob is a, cat—tho big, bob tailed cat of Mulberry street—the feline John L. Sullivan of his'quarter of the town. Like John L. the original and other creatures endowed with genius, ho has his little weaknesses, and beer is chief among 1 them. Whenever the alcoholic mania seizes upon Bob ho will saunter, .down to the saloon at the corner of Houston street and proceed to liqxiidate like any other "blood." Although he is far from 18 years of age, he'does not lind any difficulty in getting served, and the way he will rush the' growler sometimes is a caution and an example. Often he will stay away from home for an entire week, ami' when he does return the marks upon him show that lie .has been indulging in his penchant for fighting to a .disastrous degree. He will tackle anything up to a brinclle bull pup, and I do not know that ho was, ever re.; 1 .ly beaten. Once in a while Bob will go a-hunting. He will catch some hapless mouse of rat, and will proceed to have fun with it, boxing its ears arid cutting it about to his own intense amusement, if not that of hi.s prey. At, last, when he lias grown tired of playing with it, Bnb will kill it with a ''single blow. But do you suppose that Bob'will con- descond to eat it? Not much! Bob is a high liver. Ho likes pate -de 1'oies gras and triifllqs ami porterhouse steaks with mushrooms. He does not care for plebeian rats and mice. But B(»Vi is good-hearted under his rough .exterior. After killing the rat or mouse he will go around the corner and look up some tramp cat v/ho is not smart enough fo catch'mice himself, and a moment later you will see that tramp cat sneak'ing around to lind am carry off the carcass to make a tramp cat's holiday. If it were' not for Bob's disease of drink ho would be. quite an ornament to society. J wonder if anything can be done-for him. one great, prolonged tragedy — every phase of its life was dramatic and tense." The actor was wrought to a tdnsion, too, in relating his story, and after some sighs and cigar puffs concluded: "Yes, "I knew John Booth — knew him for years. WarniesHieartcd friend a mail ever had, but a fanatic. "I met . him a few . days before the shooting on the street, and we smoked a cigar together and had a beer. He was the same genial, hearty fellow that I had known for years — wished everybody well, but didn't like those who crossed, him in political opinions. "My friend - was leader of the orchestra at Ford's. He had been under the stage, and, hearing shots, started upstairs to see what was wrong. Going upon the stage he bumped against Booth, who was running away, after his crime. He recognized him, and said: 'Hello, John, what's the matter?' 'Out of my way, '- — you,' returned Booth, slashing at him with an ugly knife, cutting his coat and vest almost off of him with the stroke, and inilicting an ugly flesh cut."— A r . T. World. ' ' Apple-seeds are used in the manufacture of prussic acid. One Vermont farmer picks them from his cider press. Col. Hain, .the General Manager of Jay Gould's elevated railroad, is small in stature and., energetic to a remarkable degree. Rev. Hugh Price Hughes, the noted English churchman, now in this country, conceals his age under an extremely youthful face. The place in Newport which Mrs. Elizabeth Coles has left for the foundation of a college for young men is worth about $200,000. A statistician of small things figures it out that the posterity of one pair of English sparrows amounts in ten years to something like 276,000,000,000 birds. Richard Henry Stoddard's handwriting is so minute that ha can compress the equivalent of half a column'of neWs- ACAINST THE LAMP POST. This Man Missed HU- Engiigcuiciit, but Couldn't Be Fooled, A man with his hat cocked on the back of his head and the top button of Ids overcoat buttoned in the middle buttonhole of his -under coat was backed up against a lamp post on the corner of an up-town street, writes Ed Mott in the N. Y. Sun. He was feeling of his chin in an uncertain sort of way as another man came \yalking briskly along and was passing him. "M 1 frion'," said the man against the lamp post, straightening up a little, "C'ny' Icmme your-hie—your ear?' miii't?" "Certainly," replied the person addressed. "What do you want with it?" "Look'ere, m'fric'n'," said the man against the lamp post. "Ziss uzz' side s'reet, orz't zis side s'reet?" "Why, it's this side of the street, of course!" replied tho other. "Sanks!" said the man against the lamp post. "Sw'at I say! Caf-hic- call'oo' mo on s'rce's N'' York, noffi know't! 1'zove' there on opp's cor' of at ofKomo. ;I want Co-surprise my husband; but it must be a profound secret from him." "It'll cost money," said Mr. Poulett, clicking his penknife against his teeth; lor when ho wasn't an art-oriliefor the newspapers ho was paying-teller in an up-town bank. "I don't care what it costs," said Mrs. Clover. "Sixty dollars at least," said ioulott, whoso conscience was elastic than that of old Eliasson. 'Ihon let it bo secured at once," said Mrs. Clover. "It will take tho whole of my month's allowance, but the grocer and baker and other trades- people will ti-usl, me, I know » each ono uglier than the other! , Mrs. Clover began to cry. Mr. Clever -put his hands in his 'pockets and whistled. And just then iii bustled Uncle Clnplcy, who always breakfasts with them on their anniversary day ; "Hallo!" said Uncle Chinloy, who was rather a dabster at tho line arts. "Don- navelli'.s Ophelia,' oh? But you've o-ot :two of Vm. A bargain, oli? Or" .auction?" "I gave a hundred dollars for mine " whispered Mrs. Clover. , "And I'gave a hundred for mine!" exclaimed her husband, dni<».-j n ,, savagely at his mustache. c ° " "Tin 1 " you wore both- great fools," • mildly remarked Undo Chiploy " saw half a shop full of Vm in 1'arh .when 1 was over there hist., for sj'; apiece, American money! They're ~< regular drug in (ho market over there! "Ot course, I appreciate the atton- HUI, Maria, and all that sort of thin began Mr. Clever, "but, I don'c (hisgushy thing on my walls! 1 ' ."And I'm sure it woiild give me the nightmare to have that drownim* f-ioe m anv room," rctorled Maria, crisply. And it any one wants a proof Vn .t JJ<>»navcUi's "Ophelia," he. l^woof them at tho establish- "TAD"_|JNCOLN. Tho Old Coincilliiii'g Jicminisceiices That Fatal Night in Washington. A veteran and well-known comedian recently related a strange sort of story to a small circle of friends who had gathered around him in tho corridor of an up-Broadway hotel. The World will "violate no confidence" in repeating the substance of it, withholdin" the name of the narrator. ° "I knew tho Lincolns and well re- membor that night of the 14th of April when the president was shot. I was the loading comedian of a combination that was playing a burlesque on 'Aladdin and His Lamp'at one of the Washington theatres during the fatal week. Little -Tad' Lincoln was a privileged character around the stngc, and every ono connected with it, from manager to c.ull boy, liked him, and felt lonesome if ho missed an evening. Tho property man and scene painter had made for him a miniature stage in tho White House, with a correct small edition of the stock sets of scenery and properties. "The president did not try to discourage the boy's zeal for the drama, and if our national history had boon destined to toll of brighter days than it does for the Lincolns, perhaps 'Tad' would have been to-day upon our stage—doubtless playing comedy, for that was his delight. In him the sta^e might have had a recruit from the ranks of genuine heart-and-brain royalty. J a •aid tho man Xhis' got.ove' .want Mr. loss graving niiiy Im. ""•'" »f ! hl '" 1 "" '' !*l»v|,m. '"-' ">» !:<•!. Kliassen, f,,r who boiM ., apiece, aY, ' whatever 1'' -<'ll llicin - -- A '- ) '-^-- _ _ The horn of the rhinoceros is nothing more than a protuberance com- po#ofl <t agglutinated hair. Cut-it in two, and, examining its sfructuro uu- ' _ microscope, it will 1 K . f,,und ls n ] : ".l<-' up entirely oi' little •esctnblmg hair tubes. Of Ilicsc arc not tlii-mselyp.s hair Hlriictiiro is the same. The "f I lie African rhinoceros some- ,'i'ow to i],e Iciigtl, of four feet. '•"" l tlu-m the. Dutch boers ram-rods and other articles. "There was a scene in our burlesque whore a property balloon made an ascension, and tho comic servant— my own character-got caught accidentally in this balloon and carried into tin, (lies, suilduuly becoming loosened and ialhiig or tumbling headlon..- „,„,„ tlie .siagc. So you sen 'athletic comedians wore not originated at our Casino. "Well, 'Tad' thought this act very amusing, and ho furnished much diversion between acts and durin.r , va its for th^ company and stage hands by rehearsing it himself Behind the scenes. opp's „_. s root, few mi'ssgo.V says t' p'licom'n: '"Whe/B mini' two hu'r'd'n fif'sov'n?' "P'licem'n says, 'U/z' side s'reet.' _"'Sanks ver' mush?' say to p'licem'n, 'ni come ove' here. Come ove' hero 'n' gossink'n 'bout it, 'n' now'm lay- hid-lay'u f the p'licem'n!" "Why, what's the matter?" asked the other man. ••W'assnia'r?" said the man against the lamp post. "P'licem'n says mini' two hu'r'd'n fif'sov'n's on UM' side s'reet, 'n' tai'sso! Num' two hu'r'n lif'sev'n's on ziss side s'reet! Caf-foo'me on s'reo's N' York, by joe!" The other man laughed, and was about to pass on, when the man against the lamp post stopped him againf "M'frien 1 ," he said, "'ziss t'nio-ht or las" night?" ° _"Why, it's to-night, of course!" replied the other niaii, looking a little uneasy. "Sanks ver' much!" against the lamp post. soizh grip, 'n' mem-liio-mcm'ry's 111 bit weak. 'Bli/Jrd t'you, awsamo! 'St'night, is't? Wo' lay F p'lioom'n 'ny longer. Do' making cliff's now whessz niini' two hu'r'd'n Jif'sov'n '/on y.\ss side s'reet or ir/.z side s'root. Had 'gaxhm't there f las' night, 'nime 'iraid'ts li'l—hie—li'l late now. 'Bli/.h'd t'you, jissame. liliighfc!" The other man laughed again and made another start. The man against the lamp post stopped him once "nor*. He seized the other man's hand, shook it warmly and said: "Sanks ver 1 mush! 'Slikos not you'll see mo again wuvvse days. 'Fyuh do, 'runs' bo suro'n hunt me up, 'nilo ta— hie—takyup t' High Brish ''n' blow y'off! G'night!" Tho other man wont on his way laughing, and the man against the lamp post steered himself into a place on the corner whore the lights in the windows shone brightly on some nice, fat bottlesjii a wicker basket. "Where Are Our Wives?" Now York gentleman do r ,- 1 was shot, and was watcluno- me this very act, when a messenger , gr i ished upon the with pallid face and tremblin with niblingwitli terror/ The boy did not look at him, but was intent tip- oil. Ui play _ The messenger spoke to •in a righ ened whisper, askino- to follow him instantly, that I An afflicted husband in has called a meeting of his friends to consider the ding wives." "Where Are Our"Wives was the subject under consideration, and the composite answer was as follows: "in tlio streets, eons, dinners,' in tlio abroad or away for an Browning clubs, faith-cure woman's rights nioetin paper type into a single page of manuscript. . The capital 6f_ West Virginia is at Charleston, although nearly all the maps say it is at Wheeling. It was formerly at Wheeling, but has been changed. : Mrs. William Vanderbilt is an unusually handsome woman, with creamy white complexion, dark brown hair, large dark grey eyes and a remarkably line figure. President Grevy was known for a thrifty person. It is something of a surprise, however, to learn that his personal property in England is not less than £172,000. Francis M. Dale, a colored man,took oath in Judge Broaddus's court, in Kansas City, the other day, that he was 170 years old and had fought under Washington in the revolutionary war. Julien Gordon, otherwise known as Mrs. Van Honsselaer Cruger, weeps profusely and refuses to be comforted when her books are unfavorably criti- cised by the newspapers. She weeps frequently. Mr. Hudson, the projector and constructor of the St. Glair tunnel, believes that in the twentieth century Hoston will be forty, miles long and twenty broad, and that its population will number 2,000,000. Dr. Selim, the Khedive's physician, is said to be a Christian, and a graduate of the medical department of the University of New York. Ho entered the medical branch of tho military service of the Khedive a few years ao-o. Considering the dislike the entire South has for the author Cable, it is interesting to road in a Richmond pa- por that, "despite his personal unpopularity, we must own that no American novelist since the war has equaled him in lictiou." William Morris, tho English poet who is deemed a probable successor to Lord Tennyson in the laureateship, is tho manager of a factory for wall-paper, has a profitable bric-a-brac shop, and owns several shares in a successful magazine. Miss Kate Fubbish, a oraduate of flowdoin College, is the most noted botanist in Maine and has already made a collection of ],200 different species of plants, the greater part of which she has reproduced in water- colored drawings. _ Daniel Dougherty has declined an invitation to address the United States Catholic Historical Society on Christopher Columbus, but expressed the opinion that the anniversary of the discovery of America should be observed as a Catholic affair. Mrs. Gladstone is said to be hardly inferior to her husband in cnoro-y a nd industry. She has always bceif interested in charity and church work and in politics, and has at the same time maintained close watch upon .her household affairs and her children. Tho removal to Chicago from Harper s Ferry of the old engine house known as "John Brown's Fort" leads the Boston Advertiser to remark that Virginia needs two statues, one ol John Smith at Jamestown and the other of John Brown at Harper's Fer- Mrs,.Jticldell, one of tho most popular of English novelists, has never received over $1,850 a year from the sale of her twenty-eight works of fiction, ami it is proposed to put her on the civil pension list. Her tired of London life, and more of its ways. JTo doubt he .will d I better work in the country. : " M. Floquet, President oi the fr Chamber of Deputies, recentty did sensible thing. A comic' song beiti.l given in a burlesque at one of the thll aters contained & reference to his nJ cent confession that he used the e» I cyclopedia in preparing some of kl speeches. The lines containing reference, says the London Telegr weto carefully cut out by the censors But when M. Floquet heard of it he in.l sisted ou thoir being reinstated. I A well-known French journalist, M I Hagues le Roux, beins told that a L,'l P..*! could make 1& francs a day in'ttal Champs Elysees districts, resolved tnI try it. Dressing himself forthepatil he began his test, going from hotisotol house. The wife of a physician him 2 francs. A eouiitess, ceived him as if he were "somebody," gave him 10 francs, directing himt call again. In a very short time he made a sum equal to 20 francs. All the house at ; which he received](|| francs the concierge claimed a coa-I mission on his good luck. Zcrah Colbtirn was the' most mathematician ever known. When only 8 years old he raised the number 8 successively to the sixteenth power, and in naming the result, which cot i sisted of fifteen figures, lie was right I in every one. On being asked the! square root of 106,929, lie answered 327 before the old grey-haired pliiloso-l phcr questioner had time to put it I down. He was next asked how many! minutes there were in forty -eight! years, and instantly replied 5Jo,''228,8'JO,| and'livo seconds later gave the juto touishcd savants tho exact number. COT AHEAD OF THE BARBER. It Tonic Itrcitth, but tlip Sc-hcmr, Worked! Like n Charm. Detroit has a barber who if talking never existed would have invented it, and still he is an excellent barber with a good patronage. .Since last Tuesilaj evening, however, ho has been wearing a countenance of gloom and disappointment, and some of his fviomls think lie is contemplating suicide. At 7 o'clock of the i-von i tut mentioned a man evidently from Chicago came in. says tho Free. I'rcnn, and removing his external integuments took a chair. "Shave, sir?" inquired the barbel, gi'Uing his implements ready. "Certainly," responded thc'custoniei, li\ii)L r himself comfortably. "I haven't bi-i-ii shaved for three owing to the fact that several days' ago, in response to an invitation' from a man whom I know only slightly, having met him but once or twice during his trips to Chicago on business in which wo wore both "interested. I went over here into a back county of Canada about lifty miles from' 'any railroad station, in a section of country whoic there weren't any razors except those the hogs wore on their backs, am haven't been able to slide my chin against anything sharper than a Canadian zephyr 20 degrees below the ice notch, and the consequence has been that I have had a growth of bristles that I think if my wife should run her face against on my return to my native village would give her snAh a shook that she wouldn't let me como near her again for the next six mouths, or at least until I had promised her f.tlth- ?, fully that 1 would never let myself get J> into such a condition again, even if I a: went to the wilds of Africa, where Ijv suppose a man's whiskers, in the lux- | uriant climate of that latitude, would $ grow to such a thicket of hirsute stub- fi binoss that there wouldn't be any way '•'• of cmMing thorn, unless ho imported 11 • • double-strength reaper and mower $ with re-enforced knives in order that j8 there might not bo any mistakes in " the accomplishment of tho job for which it had never boon designed, but for which, thanks to tlio excellence of AniiM'ioan_maimfactures,it would readily adapt itself in an emergency of this kind, provided it wore in the hands of a com potent and ellicieiil, person who knew exactly its capabilities and was conversant with the proper methods "f its application to—You ain't through, are you? I don't want any shampoo, haircut, or anyfhiii"- else. How much? Fifteen cents? Here's your money." And slappAig on his aoaf and hat lie bounced out without giving the barber a chance to say a single word. Called His Bluff. Two lassies from the Salvation army strolled rather than marched upBroad- way the other night, carrying their bundles of the War Cry, iiskin" every "" Y. s, at seances, ll'eu re- time. Tho Queen of liave the largest ubHsliers J'." u "o"i-is unions, Meredith mornings, Blavatsky circles, indigent female rescues, arriving 1 omigniuls' shelters, mothers'inoot- iiigs, church sociables, Bulgarian bazaars -anywhere, everywhere, except "I'"""'.; After nrournfully diseul- iiig the situation and .discoverino- , lo remedy m sight the- ' ' *•- England is said to collection extant of liin i iin the make ,tVA WilS i m W:utm K to take him to lib father, who was waitino- f or hh n 'But father is at tho theatre, to see Miss Keone,'returned 'Tad.' Wo were all listening then, for wo felt that something serious had happened. The scene stopped. ha '"But, f ' boy ' Mr ' Lincoln i'?. r _.? ™, uto .'"^Mo see if heard aright, thon"da 8 hed"ofl Ho litrhtnmjr. amF in a moment wore First electric wire—"With all n,«i,. »VS2 £& <& S SSK-^Sr^Sta,"-'^' gloves."—" ' Injured His Cuuso. Tho story is told of a certain t-nmnnr ance lootuVer who ihww^hh the micro-organisms in a drop J-hon on the slide ho placed a mmuto portion of whisky. InsHnUv it put a quietus on' all that swarmiiur lite. About to make his point a voice [r..^™- *''-^S'H nZr of ol Fir U us without • «;> - - "" ••* *-• «* ^J*^\>l±lll> Ui photographs of nobilities of her time from tho portraits of kings, queens' emperors and empresses downwards, luoy dato from tho boginnino- O f daguerrotypes down to the present photographs. EU Whitney Blake, nophew of Eli Whitnoy, of cotton-gin fame, invented the Blake ore crusher now in use all over the world. Like his uncle, ho was robbed of the profits of his invention by infringements. Both inventors were born in Wostboro, Mass., and both arc buried in Now Haven, Ct! Lorimer Stoddard, the actor, is a son of the poet, Kichard Henry Stoddard. Ho has made a success of his stage career, and is remembered as tho funny htt e lord in Jtobinson and Crane's "The Henrietta." Mr. Stoddard has also found time to do some Worary work, and is the author of tho little comorlv «.«v, n iii i3 0 'i lappy T Rider Haggard has given up his 'use in London for good and 20110 tn Ms country place in Norfolk, wHoro he intends to.resido in future. Occastt ally m spring or during the season, this squire and author will come"to Loudoufor ft few weeks, but lie haa one they passed to buy, says tho N Mommy Advertiser. The theater pnr- lormaiicos wore just, over and tlio streets thronged. Many wore the re- bulls received, but they took it in o- 00 il part and responded with a cordial May tho Lord bless you!" At. last the twain approached a' crowd in front of a cafe near I ho Bijou theater. "Haven't uny change," .said a stout, rod-faced sport, whoso features are always to be seen on the Kialfo. "All i'vo -rot is a *2U bill." "Lord.bless you, sir,"wo can Change it," said tlio meek little woman in tho poke bonnet. "All riHit, p f;! ?| hero you are; I owb you a quartor.uhP" $i^| •iho soldier-girl handed over a paper tPl ami reached down in her somber dross ||S| lor her purse. Tho purse was a grout :j|pfl bag. She slowly counted out nine JH'O silver dollars, a do/en half dollars, and Bill then quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies without end. The red-faced spurt i * k * was so handicapped with coin when in she gave him tho change that lie could hardly move. "May tho Lord bless you, sir!" said tho demuro woman as she moved away. But there was a twinkle in her eyo and a quiver around'- the mouth that niado the crowd laugh : heartily. The Salvation uriny girl hud "] culled Lhi! snort's bluir ; •' >0ats and Ilogs. J The instinctive fear which oats have-. 1 of dogs is illustrated wry amusingly ; by stroking a dog and then caressing*;; blind and aeAv-borii iitten with th«V same hand that has touched tho 'dog,. At once tho kitten will spit and Huff fe self up in tlio most absurd way tinguishiiig. the sinell of tlio which experience for thousands generations has taught it most all

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