TM« TOO-AQQRECABLK FELLOW. riM feller who'* orrtsln »o wijr: 'Thmt'* rt*hl" Who u-quiMce* In ev'ry rlow. A'ho If I toll him th*l blm-k 1* whlto Will frankly own that ho think* *o to« fm uovrr ablo t«. fu** with, mu< h, - Ho utlorty noii-i-o«l*tonl '» ho:— i'ot, (ouiobow. novor am I In tourh WU.'i tbo follor who allsr* acroo* with The follor who «ay* to mo: “Von 'ro doail-wronc:" Who M-ofl* at all of tho thlnf* 1 *ay. 10 *tart* au arxumout loud an' Ion* b i>rw»o It «>oulil u't l>o ju*t that way; him 1 blu*tor. and fiimo, and frown, rth In thl* man 1 aoe u the ea*y, oomplaTbo follor who alien agree* with me. Coward* the follor who tell* me I 'm wrong I vo had At tlmo* (ho foolin'* that make men light,While, Mimohow. never could I got mad At him who »iulllngly *ay*: “That '• tight!" Vet. Kate, t>lea*e see that my pathway blond* With one who *trou*ly dlnaonU. and free, Au*l ju*t wratcb off of my ll*t of friend* , Tue feller who alien agree* with mo. —ttoy Farrell Ureene, in Puck.

"Peppera and pumpkins! A widow aaored In right nest door, and this nap year." Mr. Alonzo Larkins stared approinaslvely oat of his window, as If he expected to see his newly arrived icighbor Bitting up his porch steps •n search of him with a lasso. Instead ae really did aee a small, inoffensive poking woman walking serenely from aer doorway toward her own front •lawn, bearing a pot of pan.-.lea and a 'dowel. "Oh. of course." be continued caustically. "wants to make a good Impression first before she lets out at me. Well, ma'am, my herat is tough. -Out you are a neat little bundle." be «- added with a slight change In tone; 'trim as a sasaairas whistle, l-iath .-dght—lot that ruffled up pink contrsfcbon slide off your head. Gum. ‘what shiny brown hair! And look at the •little curl bobbing over her off ear!" Little Mrs. Bittersweet did not seem At all troubled by the orb Mr. Lar1.1 ns deemed it expedient to keep .toeused upon ber. Sue trotted around About ber own business, paying little •nee£ to the doings of her bachelor neighbor. The first time she met him plump and square she gave him a sweet. Indifferent litue neighborly ‘Good morning." whica somehow exited bis discontent and ire. ‘"Took about as much notice of me «s she would of a brlndle dog." he complained to himself; “In fact, not -as much. She pets up all the old stray dogs and gives 'em bones. What’s <the matter with me. I'd like to know?" He looked anxiously into the mirror -as be brushed his hair. He saw therein a good looking and fairly good nat■ured face, the chief drtect of which was an expression tending toward «clf-conceiL “Now. ma'am.” he observed decisively, addressing the absent widow, "you've got to see me and appreciate ane; then If you choose to tske advantage of leap year privileges. 1 lon't really know as 111 run away." Meantime Mrs. Bittersweet's atten•tlon bad been directed to Mr. Larkins i)j her friend. Miss Podderly. "He's the smartest man in Bibb•vllle,” said she. "and got everything in -his house s woman's heart could wish. Jrom gas ranees to teaspoons, not to ■mention scuds of bine and white ware saucepans. But seems like he's afraid some woman'll marry him In spite of -timsell. I guess he's too bashful to ask any one. But 1 believe In my ffleart you could overcome the dlffl■cgfty. Polly. If you'd set your cap good and strong." “Set a fiddlestick!" retorted Polly HmersweeL scornfully. “Ill never set tay cap for any man." "Well." said Miss Podderly, *T wish 3 had the opportunities you turn up your nose at so recklessly." Mr. Larkins finally grew decidedly •discontented and a little puzzled. "1 don't understand you. ma'am," he admitted. In one of his mental apostrophes to the widow. “I hare so far modified my views as to give you wvery opportunity to signify your wish to become Mrs. Larkins, and yet you're as cool and calm as s bale of snow. I'm not used to It, ma'am, and I won't stand 1L .IH give yon three weeks more to get Interested in me. and then in take and propose to yon—that's about what in da" When the allotted three weeks of •race had expired Mr. Larkina. In desperation, executed his threat and received a plump “No!"—the remit Of Mies Podderly'* championship and a streak of contrariness In the widow's

kind of change your mind, you know, ma'am. Just let me know, won't you?" Mr Larkins dove headlong into his garden patch and hoed vigorously to distract his thoughts, and the widow sat down on the edge of her porch and swung her neat little foot dejectedly. "I do believe I'm half-witted.'' said she under her breath. “I dare aay I've loet as good a man aa 111 ever meet, and all because Henrietta Podderly told me to run after Mm. I needn't have run after him. but I could have thrown him away, and I ain't half as •mart ss I thought I was. I'm lonely end miserable, woo—oo—oo." Mrs Bittersweet ran Into her sitting room and cried ss heartily aa Mr. Larkins hoed. After that she smiled sunnily whenever she met. He smiled genially. The widow daintily became more lonesome and more convinced that she had discarded a congenial spirit. "He won't propose again In a hundred years," she bemoaned herself, “and no wonder he don’t want to risk another snub. He did tell me to let him know If I changed my mind; I hate to. like fun. but—" One golden afternoon when both were sitting. In an unusually pensive mood, upon Mrs. Bittersweet's pon j, the widow's heart suddenly prompted her to a little prospecting. "Mr. Larkins." site said, softly, "do you ever change year nund?" "No." returned Mr. Larkins piumply, "not without solid reason.'! "We-eH." the continued, holding her breath at her own boldness, “'would you still like me to—er—er—be—be Her meaning m«hed fncougfa Mr. Larkins like a streak of electricity. He sprang out .of bis lolling attitude at a bounce. “Polly, if you're asking me if I'd like you to be my wife. I say yes—yesyes. I didn’t dare to ask you again, but you've a perfect right to aak me. even If I hadn't told you to. for it's leap year—way. Polly love, what's the matter? You're as pale as ashes. What Is It. darling?" "Why. I've actually as good as asked yen to marry me." gasped Polly, "just what I've always declared rd die rather than do! Oh. well. ' as Alonto* arm stole protectingly around ber waist. "I guess I was excusable this time. But. Alonzo, listen. Don't you ever, the longest day you live, let Hen rietta Podderly know I did It—will you?" “Never." vowed Alonso. klsslng x her. —H. W. Durbin. In San Francisco, CalL

A COMTE'S GRATITUDE. How Ht Warned His Man-Frlsnd That a Freshet Was Coming. "I was once starving." said Coyrte. abjectly. “You who have lived in a warm land where something is grow Ing all (he year round, know nothing of foe hVnger that comes when the fierce blizzard blots out everything, and there Is only snow, snow, every where. Can one eat scow? it's all very fine for you wltl^a paunch full of candy to sit there and prate about stealing. Does s fellow dig. dig. dig through earth so hard that he must bite It out with his teeth, dig deep undec the log walls for sport ss the cubs play in the sunshine, or just to steal? Bah! you who have never known bun ger know not of this thing. Why. onre when the ground was frozen hard, and I was dying inch by inch, some fierce-toothed animal inside me biting, biting—only of course It was the hunger chewing at my stomach— 1 dove fair through the window of s log shack to get at the meat Inside The glass cut me to be sure, but that was nothing to the hunger pain that goes on. on. never ceasing until there Is food or one Is dead. “You see they were all whisky trad era at Stand-Off. The place came by Its name In the Jays of a mighty fight when man and bis comrades stood off the mounted police. These men had been given ms bad a name as Coyoteu even. My man may have been bad. too; but bow waa I to know, being on!) a Coyote. He was always throwing it bones and pieces of bread, and whistling to me. and calling me Jack Now. this place Stand-Off was on the river flat, and one night In Springtime I heard a great flood coming down the Belly river. It was a still night, and the noise of the rushing water came to my ears for miles, but men heard It not, for they were aD in the shacks Fast I galloped down over the flat near to the shack where was this man who had often thrown me a bone. I whimpered, and w-Mstled. and barked the danger call. bowled the death-vomlng song, and finally my friend came to the door and threw a stick of wood at me. and spoke fierce oaths. Then he shot the '. 1 could hear the roaring getting louder and louder and knew that soon It would be too late for all the kind; not that I cared, except for this one. go I bowled louder than ever, and he came out and strove to me with a fires tick, but I only ran

How to Carry Yo u r Umbrella. Vow smart girl has s new little way. and not an altogether commendable one. of carrying ber umbrella these iayj. She used to hold It by the handle In an ordinary common b.*nse way; n&w she grasps it st the middle, and swings It at an angle of about 45 degrees, with the handle pointing downward In front of ner. and the t'jarp femile-end sticking out behind, a menace to the eyes of all pedestrians unlucky enough to follow her. She buys ber umbrella to maten In color her rain coat, and It generally has more handles than one The Umbrella with 'Three different nandleg is no nneemmoa thing this year. The handles screw on. and are very easily adjusted.—Woman's Home Compan-

ion.

Invitations to Dine, ft would be very discourteous to Invite your husband’s old friend to dinner and not Include his young w!fe The fact that you have never met her doe* not relieve you of the obligation. Make It a point to call with your husband when his friend and wife will be at their hotel and then extend the invitation to dinner to' both. or. you may send a cordial note the next day •■king them to dine Informally to meet a few friends. State the date clearly and the hour, being very particular as to full house number sod rtre-.-t. g'rtng any other directions you may deem desirable for their guidance as ft larger* in the city. A hostess shake* hands with ber guests nnon theii arrival and upon their departure as well.—Mirror-Farmer. * Care of the Complexion. Rouge In evidence is not beauty, nor the unmistakable present of powder nor a complexion cream with a blue tinge therein. Either the doctor or the skin specialist has been Ignored where toe whole countenance Is uniformly florid or sallow; the chin, forehead and cheeks all of one hue. Ill health. Indigestion, undue exposure to the winds of heavejk. have something to do with all this. Genius Is said to be a capacity for taking infinite trouble, and personal Appearance U important enough now to need constant attention and continued exertion. If nine women out of 10 would devote time to a quiet scrutiny of themselves before a long cheval glass, realixlnfc every point in their appearance, we should not see what we do woe. something almost grotesque sometimes, and often path*, tic In its failure. It Is not always the spending of a vast deal of tffat Is required. The girls of today, however, have a higher mission in lUe than to look ornamental It u. not sufficient that they make the best of their charms; they tnust likewise develop lhe!r talents. It will not suffice that they be graceful. They must also be useful. Their aim in life U not merely to be good; they mutt be good for some thing.-—Pittsburg Dispatch. Do Women Work*Too Much? The set phrase just now among physicians when It’s a woman patient is: “Oh. you're working too hard." The words have become t shibboleth In the medical profession—when treating a woman. Grip, typhoid, pneumonia— It really doesn't n.i-tter what the malady is nor bow little dependent It Is upon previous working conditions—all the doctor doea Is to take account of the patient's sex and promptly charge her with overwork. There have been cases of women down with smallpox to whom the medical man baa simply said: "Ah. you're working too hard— that's the trouble with you. You need to take a good rest. A good rest bring you all right again." The women doctors are just as bad about this ss the men. It la apparently the "profcssloa&l" attitude, first, to deny womA the right to work. and. aeoond, that all the Ills of bar flesh U heir to are due to work. The working •roman, pore and simple, does not enjoy a monopoly of the set phrase, though to her. of course. It Is applied with extra vigor. Every variety of woman, from the society woman and the housewife dnwx. to the maid of nil wort, gets bat

beneficial a good deal will do wondera; heroic measur** almost always prove disastrous. Coax, but do not force matters, ss too frequent eras bin* and other manipulations of the hair irritate the scalp and cause toe hair to fall out. Hair which la acrupuloutly clean but very stubborn in Us habits oj growth needs training Instead of sbam pooing. a common error in this day ol good grooming. Close observation will soon teach one the difference between fluffy hair and that which U extreme!) dry. Never under any circumstance* allow the hair to remain at night in the coil or plaits worn during the da> or Injury Is done the scalp, and the hair soon assumes awkward lines from the hours of pressure in the wrong direction. Bafore retiring brash the hair throughly and confine it In one or two very loose plaits. Thle will Insure a free circulation of sit through the hair and relax the deli cate muscles of the scalp which are more or leas Irritated by the pleasure of numerous pins and the weight of the hair confined largely at one point To assist In the training moisten the hair with a little good tonic such ss s preparation of quinine and bay ram containing a small percent of oil. and .brush In the desired direction each time brushing Is done. Experiences of a Woman Lecturer. No public .speaker shunld ever apoi ogtse for anything but a cold, and that Is so apparent that it cannot be helped by an apology. To apologize for the subject or the way it Is treated las I have beard done) Is not only foolish but directly harmful to the effect of the lecture. And should It be necessary to apologise for being late the briefest explanation only should be offered. Naturally a lecturer must endeavor not to be late, but accidents to cars, etc., cannot always be e» caped. Once In Brooklyn s blizzard had stopped the can au that connec lions necessary for me to make were Impossible. Nor could a cab be found: there was nothing to do but wait, and on a cold corner; the audience In the hall waited three-quarters of an hour. Not long ago. when staging through the Redwoods of California, from the coast to an Inland town, where I was due on toe plat form at 8 o’clock, a delay occurred far up the mountain, seemed Impossible to reach the town In season, hut furious driving on the down grade, with gasping fiassenger* holding on for safety, finally landed me at my destination, dust-covered and breathless, at s quarter to eight That audience had to wait 15 minutes for me to remove some of the dust and be able to apeak, and so great had been the effect on the eyes of the jolting drive that when the platform was reached I could see nothin* straight: it would have been Impos Ible to speak from notes. These acci dents prove that one must be pre pared for any emergency. Wet or dry though the weather be, an engagement must be kept, and only once have I known a storm to be too severe to prevent the assembling of an audl once. —Florence Jackson, In Harper's

Weekly.

Fashion Notes.

Greens always revive with the com-

ing of spring.

Box-pleated skirts are to be a lead

Ing mode for walking wear.

Summer dresses promise to be elabthrough be-ruffled and lace-adorned. You can't have too many buttons on your.gown, but choose them with dl*

cretlbn.

Walking suits of blsck zibeline are made dashing by bands and bands of gold braldT Japanese flowers and butterflies play a large part In the trimming scheme at present. A noticeable fact about the spring suits Is that so many of them are made of heavy fabrics. Narrow lowered ribbons to run through lingerie are newer and prettier than the lilain son. Black shoes laoed up with whits strings are among the queer, things affected by faddish women. Deep- dose-fitting cuffs, some reach ing almost tg> the elbow, are In evt

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rafflF YOU ABE * FARMER fftf MID WYE OHE CEIff^L Buy a posts! card sad send to Tbs New York Tribuue Fanner, New York City, for a free ■P£T lm l D The Tribu te Farmer Is s National Illustrated Agricultural Weekly for Farmers and their famiii.a and *unds at the bead ef the agricultural press. The price is 11.00 per year, but if you Ilka It yop ean area re it with your own favorite lueal newspaper, the Cat* Mat Hkk ald. At a bargain. Both p*per» one year only •1.80. Send your order sod money to the Caps Mat HRhald.

<HHE»m8T0RY-0F»CAK»M*Y«C0UNTY )> x From THE ABORIGINAL TIMES To THE FEESEHT DAY Embracing An account of the Aborigine; The Dutch in Delaware Bay; The SsttWtaent of the County; The Whaling; The Growth of the Vfflagea; The Revolution and Patriots; The Establishment of the New Government; The War of 1812; t The Progress of the County; and The Soldiers of the Civil War BY LEWIS TOWNSEND STEVENS.

480 PAGES. 48 ILLUSTRATIONS. 31 CHAPTERS. 5 APPEDICES

Sent Postpaid oa Receipt of $2.00 bp LEWIS T- STEVENS, Publisher, 809 Washington Street, CAPE MAY; N. x

SAMUEL E. EWING ... Gsneral Contractor ... HOUSE MOVING A SPECIALTY. Post Offlca Aidrass, Cips May Court House, H. J. Paint! Paint! Paint! « " Iwwlth estimates, and promptly attend to an orders. • - | TUABAYEipiPE BENNEipip 103 Jackson Street, - Cape May, N. A practical house, sigr ard oeooratite painter. AGENT FOR J. X. PATTON'S SUNPROOF PAINTS. •wg lapric* thaa the raw.