THE BURGLAR. He might very well have asked me for a fill of tobacco (we were fellow travelers in a third class carriage) without telling me that he had not smoked a pipe for 18 months.

In the face of such candor I felt it no pre-

sumption to inquire in a friendly tone how he and the laws of his country had managed to fall out. Pulling luxuriously at his pipe, he looked at me for a moment, decided apparently that I was a man who could appreciate a reminiscence, slapped his thigh and with a chuckle began his story: "I'll tell you, sir, cos you're a gentleman. Me and my mate got wind of a very touchin little occurrence as 'ad took place at a crib called Minery 'Ouse. The young ladies as got their learnin there took and gave the misses a 'luminated address and a 'andsome silver salver on the occasion when the old woman had bin teachin of 'em five and twenty year. "It were a real 'andsome salver, and me and Bill saw it in the shop winder before it went up to the house. Well, sir, me and Bill 'ad bin workin 'ard for five and twenty year, too, mighty 'ard some of it on 'er majesty's 'lowance o' grub--and we thought we 'ad as good a right to that salver as the missus. "She could 'ave the address, and we'd call it square. So one dark night we packed up the tools and started for Minervy 'Ouse. "We knowed about where the plate was kep'. It lay in a chest in the old lady's room on the second floor, and we knowed

about where a ladder was, too, and we reckoned we could persuade the old lady to lay quiet. "'Ere's luck. We don't want no ladder. They got the fire escape up ag'in the wall, and, judge me, if it ain't slap by the missus winder! "You may guess, sir, as we said grace, for gettin the ladder bout was the ticklish bit on account of the gardener sleepin 'andy to it. "'Lord! it's easy as drinkin,' says I, so we 'adn't much fear of the job goin wrong.

Well--trouble you for another fill, sir--

when we come over the wall and got near

the 'ouse, Bill 'e says, 'Up we goes, and there we are!' "Up we went, sir--I fust and Bill follerin. The escape was beautiful goin, and o' course no one could spot us, but I told Bill

to stay near the bottom and give me a shout

if any one came round. "Well, then up I goes, sir, soft and sure, and soon I was a-standin with my 'ead just out o' the escape and not three feet below

the winder. I 'adn't made a sound, sir--

swelp me, I 'adn't, and it was all goin beautiful. Things was so quiet that I 'alled Bill and told him to come up and bring the sack for the stuff, and he come up, and we waited arf a minute and 'eard nothink. "'Now 'ist me up, old man,' says I, 'and I'll do the trick.' Bill was just a-puttin his shoulder under my leg to 'ist me when, all on a suddent, the shindy begun. "A bell rung. There was shrieks of 'Fire! Fire!' then a lot of runnin about and a bit

o' laughin and screechin, and then the es-

cape begun to move. You may suppose, sir,

as we wasn't over and above pleased. We

got down into the escape and lay still, sir,

and the old thing moved like winkin. "Some one down below says, 'Lor', Millie, ain't it 'eavy?' But we traveled, sir, all

the same. Presently we stopped, and I says to Bill: "'Can we clear?' "'Not it,' says he. 'There's a crowd on 'em down below.' "'Curse the fire,' says I. 'Can you see it?' "'No,' says Bill, ''Blamed if'--"Just at that minute, sir, we 'eard a winder open. And thump! Somethin soft come tumblin down on me, driving my 'ead into my shoulders and my feet into Bill's mouth. You should 'ave 'eard Bill! Then the sfot thing giv' a awful screech, and thump! come another, and my 'ead come further into my neck, and my toes go further down old Bill's throat. "Thump came another and then another, and that started us, and we all bundled off to the bottom of the escape like a flash o' lightning--Bill at the bottom, me

next, and the rest o' 'em--they was gals, sir--screamin and 'ollerin and gigglin like mad. "Then, when we touched bottom, first thing I knew was some one a-turnin the garden 'ose full on me, while a fat old girl shouted out, 'Now, then, rule 13, use the 'ose freely!' "They did use it, sir. Soon as ever I tried to sing out I got a gallon druv into me--16 'orsepower--and took down more water than ever I did afore.

"Last, the old gal with the book--'er was shoutin 'Rule 13'--twigged me and Bill, and then the fun begun over again. "Way went the book and Rule 13, way went all the gals as 'ad come down with us in the escape--and there was above a dozen, sir, I'll take my oath--and they stopped singin out 'Fire!' and begun to 'oller 'Thieves! Murder!' "Then I says to Bill, 'Time we moved, eh, Bill?' But Bill, 'e groaned and damned me for breakin his teeth, and lay still wringin out his clothes, and afore he come to 'imself the gardener was sittin on his 'ead, and the copper 'ad mine tucked away comfa'ble under his arm, and the game was jest about up, sir. "Well, sir, look at it. If there'd bin a fire, it 'ad 'a' bin jest 'ell's own luck, and there 'ad 'a' bin an end of it. But, Lor' bless ye, there never warn't no fire! "When they brought us to the old girl, so as she could charge us, there she was, with about 20 pretty young ladies all round 'er--all on 'em in the neatest bathin dresses you ever see, with their 'heads in sponge bangs so as not to spile their 'air, and the old gal smiled and laughed, and she says: "'So very fortunate, Mr. Constable, that it occurred tonight. Hotherwise we might not 'ave detected these wicked men.' "Then I up and says, 'It's the fortin o' war, mum, and we ain't complainin, but I'd take it kindly, mum, if you'd tell us what in the old un's name you might be up to, fer I don't see no more fire nor I could put on the end of my thumb and heat for a relish.' "And she says, 'Ye don't deserve, man, as how I should tell ye anthink, but as ye arsk it 'appens that you made yer wicked attempt on the night of hour fire drill'--and it's a fact, sir, the copper told me 'im self.

"Once a week them gals get up a fire out of their own 'eads, put on their bathin dresses, tumble down that there escape and garden 'ose 'emselves at the bottom. That's 'fire drill,' that is, sir. And you may bet as 'owe I shan't forgit it." He mopped his brow. A sudden vision of the young ladies descending in an avalanche on him and Bill came across me, and I burst out laughing. After a moment he laughed, too, slapping his thigh. Then he recovered his gravity and appealed to me as a reasonable man:

"Once a week, hall the year round, sir. Ain't it handicappin a man?"--St. James Gazette. Ohadlen is a large glass. Saying goodby to our sins one at a time a slow work.

The first plaster cast was made by Verrochio in 1420.

Silliness of conversation makes a misery of companionship. The emerald has long been regarded as a specific for sore eyes. The French people still fight an average of 4,000 duels every year. Black, pink and golden yellow pearls are more valuable than white. The Burning of Chicago. There was not much clamor of men, we men or children. It is probably that the awfulness of the situation made the mind silent rather than noisy. Personal friends said to me, "The city is gone," or "No power can save us," or "All is lost," but beyond such ejaculations few were the words to be heard. Quite a stream of vehicles and persons were moving northward, but the movement did not seem that of a panic, but rather that of an orderly retreat. The guests were issuing from the Tremont and Sherman hotels. The bang-

ing of trunks was a little more violent than usual, and the vehicles into which

trunks were going showed that the exodus of guests was informal, and yet not much was said by the man with the team or the man with the trunk. The fire was raging in the business district, and its population at midnight was not great. The scene was not that of families fleeing for life, with mother calling to child and child crying to parent. The rain was advancing in the great commercial blocks, whose clerks and business heads were perhaps miles distant from their counters and desks. It was a common

event to see one or two men come down from a bank or office and unload their arms or a basket into either an express wagon or a well equipped carriage and then hasten away. Where there was distrust of a vault the valuable contents were extracted and headed for some place not yet doomed. All beyond was a furnace, and a little after midnight the fact that the city was doomed, that my home was doomed, and that tens of thousands of persons would be homeless and penniless in a few hours was fully realized. Before me lay in one mass of fire a district nearly a mile long and fully four squares wide, and under a wind which was almost a hurricane this red army was advancing. At intervals, like minute guns, came the boom of some falling wall. I turned to go home. The tumbling buildings made a solemn sound like the pulsations of a volcano or the heavy artillery of some field of battle.--Scribner's. A Startling Story. A favorite general officer of one of Gould's western railroads was just called to New York a few years ago and jumped on by the little Wizard as follows: "They tell me you are broke and don't pay your debts. What is the matter?" The officer sputtered and stammered. "It costs me a great deal to live," he replied. "My family is large, rents are high and doctors' bills have been considerable, but things are not so bad as you seem to think." "I'll see," said Gould, handing out a check for $1,000. "Take this over to Connor and tell him to put it in the market as he sees fit. Come back here when he tells you to." The man obeyed. It was an exciting day

in Wabash, and he returned to Gould with $6,000.

"So you've been speculating," exclaimed Gould. "Don't do it again. That's what

ails you fellows who don't know what you

are about. You better go home now." The unfortunate speculator bade Gould goodby with profuse thanks and started. "Haven't you forgotten something?" called Gould.

"I don't know." "Where's that $1,000 I lent you this morning? It seems to be true that you

don't pay your debts. Remember, my boy, the essential thing in business is to keep up your credit."

The embarrassed officer paid the $1,000, and it has never been necessary to dun him for anything since.--New York Cor. St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Tissue Paper and Other Lampshades.

Tissue paper is usually employed in mak-

ing shades for candles and candle lamps, two contrasting colors being selected, such

as dark blue outside, pink inside, or sage

green and old gold. They are furnished

with ribbon to be tied around the top, sufficient accompanying each to allow of the making of handsome ows and ends. They are small, and made in imitation of roses or sunflowers, of moss or a bunch of forgetmenots or primroses; shields, shells,

butterflies, Japanese fans, stars and tiny umbrellas are the prevailing forms.

They are all fitted with a brass or silver wire standard, secured to a clasp of the

same material, which is flexibly and can be placed at any desired height on the candle or candle lamp. Some new nonflammable shades for this purpose have been patented, and are shown by manufacturers and dealers. They are of transparent paper washed with noncombustible fluid. If overheated or exposed to the flame they only smolder, and do not catch fire or make a blaze. They also come in the same designs as the flat lampshades, ornamented with hand painted ferns, seaweeds and flowers of every description.--House Furnishing Review.

Cure for Low Spirits. Take one ounce of spirits of resolution, an equal proportion of the oil of good conscience; infuse into these a tablespoonful of the salts of patience and add thereto a few sprigs of others' woes, which grow extensively in the garden of life. Gather also a handful of the blossoms of hope, sweeten these with the balm of Providence, and if possible procure a few drops of genuine friendship, but be careful of counterfeits in the ingredients of self interest, which grows spontaneously; the least admixture of it with the above would spoil the composition.

Reduce the whole to an electuary by a proper proportion of content, flavor with the essence of good judgment and regulate the quantity according to the virulence of the disease. Having tried the above recipe we know it to be an infallible cure.--Philadelphia Times.

A Cargo of Elephants. A batch of elephants were taken on board at Calcutta, and the steamer went down the Hooghly and at night anchored off Sangor point. The sea was as still as oil, but the ship rolled so much that she was in danger of rolling over. The elephants had found that by swaying to and fro all together they could produce a pleasant rocking motion. As the ship had no other cargo and rode light the captain was much frightened. The mahouts were hurried down into the hold, and each one, seated on his own

beast, made him "break step," but they had to stay there for a long time.--J. L. Kipling's "Man and Beast in India." How Russians Use Glycerin. The Russians, taking advantage of the peculiar properties of glycerin, are in the habit of employing it to protect themselves against the severity of their climate. This they do by spreading a layer of glycerin upon their faces and other exposed parts

before starting on their sledge journeys; the skin is thus effectually guarded against

the excessive cold, as the glycerin neither evaporates nor congeals.--Hygiene. About 1815 right and left shoes for males began to make their appearance. It is estimated that $600,000,000 is yearly spent on the races in this country. In Scotland alone there are 5,322 acres under cultivation as market gardens. Arabic figures were not invented by the Arabs, but by the early scholars of India. Throw away all your wooden toothpicks. The wood is apt to break off between the teeth. ODDS AND ENDS. There are 150,000 gypsies in Hungary. The aurora Lorealis is the devil's rainbow. New York has 1,000,000 tenement residents. Breeding pug dogs is one of the industries of Osage City, Kan. The notation system of writing music was invented in 1070. The face is the index of the condition of the internal economy. The Phoenicians were the first to employ engineers to fortify cities. The United States has about 1,700 different and distinct railways. The true hospitality of the heart is appreciated by the genuine and true.

A curious french dietum is, "Oh, that is nothing--only a drowning woman!"

Chinese gardeners are reputed to be the most expert fruit growers in the world. "Know thyself," but not too well, or suicide may be the result of the intimacy. Postmaster General Bissell pronounces his name with the accent on the last syllable. The area of the czar's individual possessions of land is greater than the entire extent of France. Cocceius Nerva, a wealthy Roman lawyer, killed himself in disgust at the state of the Roman republic. It is to please men that women dress, except a few spiteful women who dress to aggravate other women. The worst corruption of the English language is that which makes "homely" synonymous with "ugly." The eastern gulf coast has the heaviest rains--over 60 inches a year; Arizona and New Mexico the least--less than 10 inches. The demand for canaries is constantly increasing, and the public is becoming harder to please in the matter of its favorite songster. Pretty Hard Anyway. "Did you ever try to get a boy a job?" said a friend yesterday afternoon. He added: "If you ever did, you will appreciate what I am about to tell you. It is the meanest thing in the world to try to help a boy to a place. I had a likely youngster on my string a week or two ago and we went hand in hand to 15 or 20 places. "The first firm sized the lad up and remarked that he was too young. "The second said that he was too old. "The third that he was too small. "The fourth that he looked sickly." "And did you get him a place finally?" said the friend. "I did not. And what's more, I doubt if any one could have gotten him one. The fact is there are few places open to a lad these days. There are fully 100,000 men out of work in New York all the time. If this is so, what hope is there for the boy? Mighty little." "Why not start him as a messenger boy?" "There are fully 10,000 applications ahead already." "Why not send your boy out west?" "He has no money." "Why not start him in a trade?" "He wouldn't earn anything, and in my case money is of first importance. I tell you it is mighty hard lines for a boy to try to get a job in Gotham." "Yes, or a man either, for that matter."--New York Herald.

The Point of View In Education.

The old education takes the standpoint

of the adult; the new, that of the child. From the former the whole mass of heterogeneous facts composing the knowledge to be acquired is viewed as having been classified, labeled and stored in books. From this conception, what method of acquiring

knowledge can be more direct than the memorizing of books? By a cheerful op-

timism this system crams the child with words and trusts that somehow he will grasp the idea for himself and will have

his powers cultivated in the process. In exceptional cases these objects are ac-

complished. But the average child is left in a condition of permanent mental dyspepsia and torpor. The new education conceives the child as looking forward into the

phenomena of nature and life, curious and eager to know realities first, then to ex-

press his knowledge, and delighted with the exercise of his powers.--Professor W. M. Aber in Popular Science Monthly.

An Argument For Diminutive Trousers. It seems that Max had only just been promoted to the dignity of trousers and was struggling about the room to the de-

spairing envy of his 2-year-old brother John. Indeed Max looked so great and grand in his manly two-legged garment that kilt skirts grew instantly unbearable, and John pleaded earnestly, "Mummer, p'eas', ma'm, div' me some pants too." "But, my son," replied his mother kindly, "you could not possibly wear trousers. See your legs! They are ever so much too short." "Oh, nome dey ain't," John whimpered with tearful intensity. "Dey's long enuff. My legs goes all de way up to my stummick," evidently believing his petticoats gave the popular impression that his nether limbs stopped short at his knees.--Ameri-can Woman.

Better Than Koch's Lymph.

Professor Koch's experiments with nacteriological remedies for consumption have almost reached a point where he can make a definite claim of results which were prematurely asserted three years ago. Professor Scaglione of Paris quotes Dr. Koch as saying that the liquid which he has produced in his laboratory shows marvelous

efficacy in overcoming tuberculosis. He

administers the remedy by inhalation, not by injection, as in the case of lymph, which gave him worldwide fame a few years ago.--Chicago Herald.

A Confused Answer.

They are telling a good story on the Rev. Mr. Adams of the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer in this city. A little girl in the parish was being catechised, and among the questions which the catechist asked her was one as to who brought sin and death

into the world, the proper answer to which of course was "Adam." But in her con-

fusion the little girl got things decidedly mixed and answered, "Mr. Adams," to the surprise of every one.--New York Tribune.

A Candidate's Frank Reasons. A candidate for a county clerkship in Or-

egon frankly gives as his reason for appeal-

ing to voters that he has spent a lifetime hustling for other candidates and thinks it time that others should now do the same for him, especially as he is qualified for the office and in need of the salary.

Outside the Parlor.

His Rival (loftily)--I will present you to Miss Lanquish.

Adams--Announce me, you mean.--Kate Field's Washington. Manganin is composed of 83 per cent cop-

per, 4 per cent nickel and 13 per cent manganese. The bones and muscles of the human body are capable of over 1,300 different movements. "William the Conqueror's Oak," Wind-

sor park, England, is 38 feet in girth and 107 feet high.

The value of honey and wax produced in the United States last year is estimated at $30,000,000. A WAGER. "The moonlight flooding hill and vale and gleaming among the waters of the river. Look at the blue heavens with sparkling stars and the moon beaming down upon this sleeping garden. But, I say, what is that white, willowy something emerging into the old maids' garden? I believe it is indeed Ophelia!" Both men jump to their feet and peep through the latticed side. "By Jove, Drayton, it must be an angel!" "No. It is a woman," answers the other coldly. Standing amid the hollyhocks and roses is the figure of a young girl. She stands perfectly still, clad all in white. Suddenly she frightens them by coming toward their hiding place. Finally she stands so close

that they can put their hands over the lat-

tice and touch her head, crowned with a

wealth of reddish brown hair. With lazy

indolence she stretches out her arms, drinks in the fresh evening, and the men wonder

what her thoughts may be. That she is pretty both acknowledge to themselves. A sharp voice breaks upon the stillness of the night: "Dorothy! Oh, Dorothy!" "Yes, dear Aunt Kate," answers she, and gathering up her charming gown she flies by the two men and through the cottage door beyond.

"I thought surely I would sneeze, Drayton."

"And I," laughs his companion, "never

wanted to cough so much in my life."

"I'm sorry I go back to New York to-

morrow. I should like to remain and cut you out." "You need not worry, Dick." "I know you are indifferent, Mark, old

fellow, but I will wager with you that six months from tonight that divine creature will be Mrs. Mark Drayton." His companion burst into a merry laugh and replied:

"I will take that bet, Dick, and now it is late--let's go to bed." After bidding his friend goodby the next morning, Mark Drayton, with his fishing pole, trudged down to the river. He is

about to throw himself beside an inviting

bush when a frightened little cry makes him change his mind. He meets a pair of blue eyes belonging to a pretty, winsome creature. "I beg your pardon. I must have frightened you, but I did not know you were on the other side." He raised his cap, and she looked at him from head to foot curiously, and at last being quite satisfied deigned to answer: "Yes, you did frighten me. You see I have been picking strawberries. I let the pail fall; they all fell out, and I have been eating more than I put into the pail again." "May I help you?" he ventured to ask. "What--to eat them?" She looks up archly into his face and laughs merrily. "No. I mean to put them back."

She hesitates, as if trying to decide a very grave question.

"Well, yes, if you like. Four hands are better than two, I am sure." He knelt down and went vigorously to work. "You live next door, I believe?" he said by way of keeping up the conversation. "Yes. I ran away from home and came to my aunt's last evening." "You ran away from home?" he repeated wonderingly. "Yes. Is that so dreadful that you open your eyes so wide?"

"I can't see to pick up your berries with them closed, can I?" "Well, no," and she laughs again. "I will tell you just how it was. When I was

at school, my uncle informed me he had

picked out a husband for me, an old friend, and one who was handsome, good and honest; in fact, a perfect angel, so he wrote. When school was out, I slipped away and came here, and I did just right." "I suppose you did." She opened her eyes wide and answered: "Of course I did. And now the pail is full again I must go home. I thank you very much." She nodded her pretty head, took her pail and left him gazing after he until the brown head vanished into the garden. The summer days passed on, and Mark Drayton had made great friends with his pretty neighbor. In fact, eh could not if he had tried keep away from Dorothy Deane. Then he remembered Dick Hamilton's wager. His friend had not won yet, but he would in the end, because this sweet, lovely girl must be his wife. He looked in the glass at his face and imagined he saw it covered with many signs of age. "Pshaw!" he cried. "She won't have such an old man as I am, but I will go and tell her I love her." And he took his hat and marched over to the little cottage. He aunt told him she had gone out, and going down to the river he found her at the water's edge, throwing flowers down the tide. She grew a little pale when she saw him and held out her hand timidly. His boat was near, and Mark proposed rowing her a little way down the river. She assented, and he helped her into the boat, but after rowing rapidly for awhile he dropped the oars and seated himself by her side. "Dorothy," he said suddenly, calling her by her first name, "I came here to say something. I cannot keep it in my heart any longer. I love you--I love you better than all the world. Say that you love me a little, Dorothy, my little sweetheart." The scarlet rushed into her face and then faded, leaving it ghastly pale. "Mark," she said, "I am a cheat--a hypocrite. I knew you were here. I made you love me, and I hate myself. Lucy and Dick Hamilton told me you were so handsome and wealthy, but so indifferent to women, and they wanted you to be punished for it. I was to act as they told me, and if I succeeded I was to refuse you." He broke into a harsh laugh and said in

a cold, suppressed voice: "Well, I ask you

to be my wife. Now refuse me"--"But, Mark, I don't want to"--

"Why not? I have given you the chance.

I am sure it will not be hard." "You are cruel, Mark," she cried. "I can't do it, I mean"--"You don't mean"--"Why, yes, I do, Mark, I do"--"You don't mean that you really love me, Dorothy?" For answer she raised her face to his, and he read the lovelight shining in her eyes. With a glad cry he folded her close to his heart and kissed her pretty lips. "I am so happy, Mark," and then she burst into tears. He soothed her with sweet words, and soon her tears had vanished.

"I wonder what Uncle Sylvester will think, Mark?"

"Sylvester? Why, I know him well." "Not my uncle?"

"Why, yes, I was to spend the summer

with him on the Hudson, but he sent me word not to come." "Mark," she cried, "you are the man I ran away from"--

"You don't say so!" And they both laughed merrily. "It was a case of 'out of the frying pan into the fire,' wasn't it, Dorothy? But what

a laugh they will all have when we go back to New York!" "I don't care. Do you, Mark?"

"Well, I think not," and the boat drifted

idly on through the sunshine.

It is needless to say Dick Hamilton won

his bet.--Chicago News. Goethe tells of a German laborer whom he knew cast himself headlong into a boiling soap vat. There are 18,000 Hungarians in the chief American cities--12,200 in New York and 3,300 in Cleveland. There are no less than 23 well known journals in this world devoted to spiritualism and ghost lore. The working people of the south are said to wear tennis shoes exclusively for about nine months in the year. POETS ALL TORN UP. Commotion in Chicago Among the Bereaved Contemporaries of Tennyson. The poets and authors of Chicago are in a state of violent commotion. It seems that when the news of Tennyson's death reached this city a reported for The Times

was sent out to interview the local poets

and authors to ascertain if possible whether the litterateurs of Chicago regretted the demise of the poet laureate. The reporter interviewed Miss Monroe, the poetess of the World's fair; Uncle Joe Kirkland, author of "Zury" and other novels, and Dr. Francis F. Browne, editor of The

Dial. These three and none other did the reporter interview, and the consequence is

that the ninety and nine litterateurs who

were not interviewed are madder than wet

hens, and there is no telling where their

fury will end. It is not enough, they say, that Miss Monroe and Uncle Joe Kirkland

and Dr. Browne should have expressed regret at Lord Tennyson's death; who con-

stituted these three a tribunal--nay, the

tribunal--to pass, in behalf of Chicago,

upon Lord Tennyson's merits? At least a fair proportion of the whole number of

literary producers should have been con-

sulted; as it was, only three out of the

whole number were seen, and of these

three only one was a member of the Chi-

cago Literary club. We'll leave it to Ly-

man J. Gage if this was fair; or to Franklin MacVeagh, or to J. S. Norton, author of "A Cursory History of the Devil."

The authors and poets had a mass meeting on the lake front. Stanley Waterloo, author of "A Man and a Woman," presided, and Mr. F. J. Schulte, the eminent publisher, was secretary. Inflammatory speeches were made by Ernest McGaffey, author of "With Rod and Gun;" John McGovern, author of "The Toiler's Dia-

dem;" Opie Read, author of "A Ken-

tucky Colonel;" George P. Upton, author of "The Standard Cantatas;" George Horton, author of "Songs of the Lowly," and many others. The following were appointed to a committee to wait upon Mr. Carter H. Harrison and to ask him to show cause, if any, why, after the affront given by his newspaper to the literary industry of this center, he should not be defeated for mayor next spring: Edward Freiberger, author of "Wayside Pansies." F. M. Morris, author of "A Guide to Chicago." Halsam Butts, member of the Chicago Literary club. Herbert S. Stone, author of "The Five Cent Exposition Guide." Rosabel Funk, the sweet singer of Goose island. Hiram Pickles, member of the Chicago Literary club. Ajax Smith, author of "Homeric Study Along the Calumet." Beeswax Gumm, member of the Chicago Literary club. Sophronia Chew, the uncrowned Sappho of the West Side. A. Belvidere Tibbs, president of the Amalgamated Order of South Side Epic Poets and Packers. Boswell Thompson, member of the Chicago Literary club. We have it upon the authority of several of those gifted people that if the committee ever does make a report it will be a corker. --Chicago News-Record. Monster Prehistoric Tides. At present the moon is 240,000 miles away from our globe; but there was a time

when it was only one-sixth part of that

distance away, or, say about 40,000 miles away. That time must of a necessity have corresponded to some great terrestrial geological epoch; probably it was at the time when the eozoon lived. At the present time the average height of the tides the world over is only about

three feet; in the faraway time alluded to

(when the moon was only 40,000 miles

away) they were 216 times as high as at

present, or 648 feet in height. Such a tide

as that would wash St. Louis off the face of the earth, throw a flood of sea water sixty-one feet high on the Chicago water works tower and drown out almost every

place of importance in the United States. Three-quarter tide would leave but a few

of the tallest chimneys and spires in St.

Louis above water, and a full tide would run well up into the pineries of Canada. But this would only last for a few hours at

a time; in less than five hours the whole of

this vast flood would have retreated. Not only would it leave Missouri and all of the remainder of the United States high and dry, but would probably drain the

Gulf of Mexico and leave a gravel and shell paved path from the mouth of the

Mississippi to Cuba and Jamaica. A few "dry" hours would pass and then the

whole land would again be inundated, only soon to be abandoned. These mighty tides are the gifts which modern astronomers have made to the

working machinery of the geologist. Who

can doubt that they constituted a terrific power while aiding in the work of stratifi-cation?--St. Louis Republic. Thackeray's London. Pall Mall, the "sweet, shady side" of which was the favorite haunt of the beaus and dandies of the regency, was familiar to Thackeray, who began and finished "The Luck of Barry Lyndon" while staying in St. James street. No more congenial district could have been found for the worldly minded old major, who loved to station himself in the great window of Bays' club--the bow window of White's--with half a score of old bucks similarly recreating themselves--old fogies who, Pen unkindly suggested, should be set up in

wax at Mme. Tussaud's in a chamber of

horrors by themselves. The humorous side of club life is admirably portrayed in the "Book of Snobs." A member of the Athenaeum and the Reform, Thackeray was particularly partial

to the smoking room of the Garrick club, then situated in King street, Covent Gar-

den. It was here, at the annual dinner

held on Shakespeare's birthday, that he said: "We--the happy initiated--never

speak of it as the Garrick; to us it is the G., the little G., the dearest place in the world."--Chambers' Journal. A Castle in the Air. The only man in the world who lives in a mansion built in the air is Mr. Fay, an American millionaire. The building in question is situated at Guanajuato. It is over 300 feet high, and is supported by massive iron pillars. Immense gardens surround the mansion, reminding one of the legendary suspended gardens of Babylon. Access to the building is obtained by a gigantic lift, and communication with the town is by telephone.--London Tit-Bits. Maine Mackerel and Herring. The steamers along the Maine coast pick up huge cargoes of dried codfish and canned mackerel. The canned mackerel designed for the western trade, where people never see real salt water fish, is herring. Mackerel are capricious, but the supply of herring never gives out.--Exchange. The folding envelope was first used in 1836. They believe immensely who believe in nothing. As in Bible days, there is a time for everything. If everybody had a million dollars everybody would be dissatisfied. As a rule the length of the face is the same as the length of the hand. If sea birds fly toward land and land birds toward the sea, expect rain. Saved His Client. Fifteen years ago Judge McSweeney was a famous criminal lawyer of southern Michigan. He was called upon to defend a young woman from the charge of having poisoned her old husband. It was a question of whether or not she had placed poison in a cake of which the old man had eaten. A portion of the cake had been analyzed by a chemist and found to contain a great deal of deadly poison. The chemist testified to this in court. Other witnesses succeeded in making a chain of damning evidence against the pretty young widow. The time came for the summing up speeches of the attorneys. The prosecution began and finished, and all looked hopeless for the prisoner at the bar. Judge McSweeney, the only speaker for the defense, arose amid breathless silence. The room was crowded and all were listening. One could almost hear the quiet, it was so intense. He began in a low tone to sum up the evidence in defense of the prisoner. He had been allowed an hour in which to plead his side of the case. He dealt with everything but the cake. It rested upon the table just at his right hand, where it had stood during all the weary trial. Thirty minutes passed and the people were still motionless, charmed by the sweet eloquence of the gruff old lawyer. Three-quarters of an hour passed by, then another ten minutes. When the clock over the big desk told him there were but five minutes left, he reached his hand out to the cake, half of which stood upon the table, and broke off a ragged chunk.

He held this in his hand and between sentences took great mouthfuls of it. During those five minutes he calmly argued the case and ate cake. He demolished more than half of it. The chemist had declared that there was

enough poison in it to kill fifty men. The

good people looked at him in amazement

and the jurors turned to each other and

whispered. McSweeney wound up his speech, took another chunk of cake and walked quietly from the courtroom eating it. He closed the door behind him, ran into a small room close by and locked the door. Two physicians stood ready with a stomach

pump, and in ten minutes the cake was all

in the slop jar. The jury returned a verdict of "not guilty" without leaving the courtroom.--Kansas City Times. Colorado's Big Trout. In the Rocky mountains one day a friend and myself came upon a little summer hotel near a crystal stream. There was an old man smoking a pipe on a bench at the front door. As we approached my friend said: "Now, there is one Colorado fisherman who will believe any fish story you're a mind to tell him. Just try it." I walked up to the old man and said: "Splendid fishing over in that stream, eh, stranger?" "Yes, sir; splendid fishing." "I know it. I was up here last summer, and I got a whopping trout on my line--he broke it snap in two."

"Yes, the trout do that up here," the man answered, with a peculiar drawl.

"Then I got a rope and fished with that,

but the trout broke that too."

"Yes, the trouts often break ropes up here." "Well, then," I went on, "I was decided to land him, and I got him on a log chain

and pulled him out."

"Yes; log chains is the only thing what

will pull the trouts out up here."

"Well, you see, after I got this big trout out we couldn't get him up to the house."

"Yes, it's powerful hard to pull our trouts up here."

"So I got a yoke of oxen, put the trout on the sledge, and after a hard pull succeeded in getting him up to the house." "Yes," said the old man without a smile; "a yoke of oxen with a sledge is the only

thing what can carry our trouts up here."

I was getting desperate. The old codger shouldn't agree with me longer if I could prevent him. "Well, sir," I continued, "we took that trout and turned him out to pasture with the cattle." "Yes," said the old rascal, "that's what we allus do with our trout up here." "Yes, sir," I urged, "and after he had

been there among the cattle for about three

months he grew horns."

"What!" and the old man straightened

up; "a fish grow horns?" "Yes, sir," I continued.

"Stranger," he said, rising to his feet

and advancing toward me, "that's a darned lie."--Louisville Courier-Journal. The Lady and the Car Window. One of the most robust and self satisfied

of the small annoyances of civilized life is the passenger car window that won't stay up. It is even more exasperating than its twin annoyance, the car window that won't

go up, for the latter can give you but one unpleasant moment--when it springs its little game--while the former keeps rub-

bing it in, as it were, as it again and again

sneaks down its grooves and shuts out the

refreshing breeze. These few remarks are the prelude to a short story of real life on a Reading railroad train that was bound

for New York. The victim of the wouldn't stay up window was one of the bad natured

fat man type, and he was gradually working

himself into a state of purple faced wrath

that threatened an explosion of star spangled language of gaudiest hue. On the opposite side of the car sat a sedate old Quaker lady, clad in the dovelike habiliments of the strict members of that sect, and she watched the rising of the fat

man's wrath with considerable agitation.

Finally she judged that the time had come for action, so opening a satchel she had in her lap she drew out a package of carpet tacks and a small hammer, and

leaning over to where the window's victim

was writhing in the last stages of his struggle against profanity she gently re-

marked, "I think, friend, if thou will make use of this hammer and these tacks thy worry will cease." The fat man looked amazed for a moment then saw the truth of the lady's words, and saying, "Madam, you have saved me from making a fool of

myself." He jammed the window up with a vicious bang, drove a tack in on which it could rest and settled back in comfort to read his newspaper.--Philadelphia Record. A Pretty Command. A pretty story is told of the queen of Italy, or rather of the royal pair. "I am

too old to wear white gowns any longer,"

said Queen Margherita, not without a

touch of regret in her voice, one day recently to her husband. "We'll take a fort-

night to consider it," was the reply. At the end of that time a huge box reached the queen packed with lovely white gowns of every description, accompanied with the brief line, "The king's decision."--New York Times. No Motive. Mamma--The idea! Afraid to go to a dentist and have a tooth filled! Why, your little sister had three filled only last week and didn't say a word. Small Son--Well, I ain't so stuck on looks as girls is.--Good News. Dickens liked the sights of a London walk, and was also fond of a tramp on the sea downs. An artificial waterfall seventy-five feet in height is to ornament the Golden Gate park, San Francisco. There are 37,000 women telegraph operators in the United States and the number is constantly growing. A man grumbles because he is poor until he gets rich, and then he grumbles because his taxes are heavy. THE ESCAPE. It was a wild scene in Bohemia, along the base of the Erzgehinge mountains and on the banks of the frozen Eger. The snow lay deep upon the ground, but so hardly congealed that the sharp iron shoes of our swift going beast scarcely did more than indent it. "How far now to Carlsbad?" I said to the driver. "Four leagues," he answered. "At this rate, then, how much longer on the road?" "Two hours." "The sun is about that high." "We shall enter the town at early candle light." On we went, up hill and down, the merry bells ringing clearly in the frosty air. At length we reached and slowly ascended a long, steep elevation, whose descent by a narrow, winding road or path led down again to the banks of the frozen Eger, along here and there precipitous ledges over which a chance slide might be fatal. The horse suddenly slipped, lost his feet and rolled down the incline and broke his harness badly. We had received no injury which was wonderful. "Here's an unfortunate situation," said Jules.

"Thank God that we have come to a halt at last with our bones whole," said I. There was no use in considering, debating or complaining. We both saw exactly what we had to do and who had to do it, and so we both went to work with a will. When we at last reached the highway again, all safe and ready to resume our journey, the sun was down and the gloom of twilight was upon us. "How far now, Jules?" "Two leagues, sir!"

"May God be merciful to us this night!"

ejaculated the driver as he started the

horse forward, but with a caution that showed how much he feared a sudden strain upon the harness. For perhaps a minute after the first call we heard no answer, and we were just beginning to hope that none would be given

when another dismal howl, in a different

direction, fell upon our ears. This was quickly followed by another and another and then by not less than a dozen on all sides. Our horse raised his head, with a terrified snort, and sprang forward at a gallop. "Let him go!" I said to Jules, feeling my hair rise with horror. "It won't save us!" returned the latter despairingly. "If the beast were free from his traces, he couldn't outrun these hungry devils. Why, look there! and there!" cried Jules, pointing with his whip first to the right and then to the left.

I did look, and in either direction I per-

ceived an undulating shadow moving over the now starlighted snow at an angle calculated to reach us at some unknown point ahead. "Merciful God!" I cried, "are we doomed to die in this manner! Faster! Jules--faster!" "Don't you see he's doing his best now, your honor, and he can't gain an inch on these devils?" It was true. Our gallant horse, as frightened as ourselves, was already on a dead run. And yet slowly but steadily the undulating shadows to the right and left were closing in to the central line, and the yelping crew behind had gained on us a little. "How far now, Jules?" "More than a league, sir!" "Is there no place on the way where we can stop--no dwelling, barn, stable or hut that we can take refuge in?" "There's a hut about a mile ahead, but how can we get into it? The moment we stop these wolves will be upon us." Suddenly Jules turned his head and exclaimed: "Quick, quick! your honor--have you a sharp knife?" "Yes!" "Quick, then! Give it to me!" I tore off my glove, whirled back the furs and outer garments, thrust my hand into a

pocket and brought forth a long Spanish

claspknife, which opened with a spring. He took it with a deliberation his excited words had not led me to expect, and then turning his eyes toward heaven said solemnly: "May God smile upon the design! It seems our only hope!" "Jules!" I cried, with a shudder, catching him by the arm, "surenly you are not meditating self destruction?" "No, no! Here, take the reins!" I did so mechanically, but amazed and mystified. Instantly Jules leaned forward

over the front of the sleigh and for a few

moments seemed hard at work. Then, starting up suddenly, he cut the reins with a single stroke of his knife and at the same time struck the flying horse a smart blow with his whip. Before I had time to ask what all this meant I comprehended what had been done. He had cut the traces, the horse was leaving us, and we were running by our own momentum. "It was our only chance," said Jules, pointing to the hut just before us, about opposite to which I judged the still fast

moving sleigh would stop. "Had we passed

that, I fear there wouldn't have been any hope." "And what hope now!" I cried in despair. "You see!" replied Jules, with a wild, hysterical laugh; "you see, don't you? They're passing us, to the right and left, in full chase of the flying horse, which they'll catch and destroy before they'll come back for us!" It was true. They were passing us to the right and left, and in less than half a minute the hindmost was ahead of us, and the whole yelling pack was in eager chase of the noble beast that had done his best to save us.

Waiting only to be certain that no prowl-

er was near us, we gathered up all our loose coverings and ran for our lives to the shanty. It was old and untenanted, and the front door was fast. There was a terrible shock to our hopes. We ran to the rear door. That was fast also. "We must get in!" I fairly screamed. "That window!" said Jules hurriedly.

"If I could only reach it!"

"Here! Mount upon my shoulders."

He did so, and the next minute he sent it

in with a crash and threw his body into the aperture. As he shortly disappeared inside, leaving me standing without, my ears

were assailed with a wild, shrieking yell

that made my blood curdle. I knew what

it was--our poor horse was already in the clutches of his rapacious foes. "Quick, Jules--for the love of God!" I cried. He extended his hands. I seized them, and in a few seconds more I was safe inside. Ten minutes later the still hungry beasts were howling all around us, but we were not destined to be their victims. The next day we related our adventures to astonished friends in Carlsbad.--N. I.

in New York News.

A large, soft sponge, either dry or slightly dampened, makes a good duster. The ancients referred to Athens and Sparta as "the two eyes of Greece." Brevier type is so called because former-

ly chiefly used in printing the breviary.

It is said that the fountain of perpetual youth has been found in San Diego county, Cal. A proverb says, "Who takes the eel by the tail or a woman by her word holds nothing."