get that roar about teaching fads and frills in the schools." Sorting thoughtfully through the proofs on his desk, he drew out the list of identified dead and drew his blue pencil through two lines of this-his wife's name and the "Ten-year-old girl, supposed to be her daughter." "Hold the forms for this correction," he said, handing the slip to the make-up man, who was shuffling past. "I'd hold them a year for that, Billy," cried the makeup man, as he glanced at the bit of proof. "They're safe, then?" "Safe!" said Doring. All the office was watching and listening to this conversation. With the important edition only a few minutes away, the whole human machinery of the place had miraculously stopped. Even the managing editor stood silent and motionless in the doorway of his den. And as the word "safe" framed itself on Billy's lips, a murmur spread from the copy-desks out to where the farthest pressman in the dim interior of the room stood, his idle hands on his hips, observing. The managing editor's sharp lips softened to a smile. He waved his arms aloft in a gesture that was meant to convey to Billy and to the world his congratulations, and as he did so the murmur grew to a hoarse cheer that shook the type in the cases. Then suddenly Doring laid his head upon the shabby oak table and gave way to a paroxysm of sobs and hysterical laughter. Lincoln's Rules for Living Do not worry, eat three square meals a day, say your prayers, be courteous to your creditors, keep your digestion good, steer clear of biliousness, exercise, go slow and go easy. Maybe there are other things that your special case requires to make you happy, but, my friend, these, I reckon, will give you a good lift.-Abraham Lincoln. There Ain't No West No More There ain't no West no more, Bill; you'd hardly know the land! They've built a dry goods store, Bill, where Peg Leg's used to stand! They've got some real police, Bill-just plain brassbuttoned dubs, That aim to keep the peace, Bill, an' carry polished clubs. The good old days is gone, Bill; they've gone for certain, shore; Here's what you can bet on, Bill: There ain't no West no more! Stay back there in the East, Bill, where folks kin break a law; The good old times is ceased, Bill; the West has come to taw. Why, Two-Tooth Jones is dead, Bill-he jest shot up a town An' got cracked on the head, Bill, by some one name o' Brown, That wore a silver star, Bill, an' never rode a hoss. Stay right there where you are, Bill-the West is growing moss. The faro game is closed, Bill; the lay-out's done been burned! Who'd ever have supposed, Bill, 'twould be so-I'll be durned If they ain't got a rule, Bill, that roulette doesn't go! It's like a Sunday-school, Bill-it ain't the West you know. An' worse than all the rest, Bill-whatever would you think? They'll hang you in the West, Bill, for shootin' of a Chink! There ain't no West no more, Bill-just wipe it off your map. Them cowboy clothes you wore, Bill, the folks here now would rap! They pinch you if you cuss, Bill; they close the barn at night. An' you can't start no fuss, Bill, nor mix up in a fight. The good old days is gone, Bill; they've gone for certain shore; Here's what you can bet on, Bill: There ain't no West no more! Good Night, Dear World BY ANNA D. WALKER. Good night, dear world, now go to sleep, While moon and stars their vigils keep Good night, dear world, let dew soft fall, Like unto ardent lover. Good night, good night! Good night, dear world, soothe at thy breast While beasts in stall, and birds in nest, Good night, good night! Good night, dear world, they nod, the trees, Good night, dear world, within night's fold, Doth come with its great crown of gold, Good night, good night! Mrs. O'Leary Makes a Morning T Call BY LEILA MORGAN. HE top o' the mornin' to ye, Mrs. McQuade," called Mrs. O'Leary, as she knocked at the former's back porch screen door. "Shure, an' I thought I'd be afther comin' over an' tellin' ye of the good toime ye missed last night at me daughter Mary Ann's party. It's meself that's sorry ye weren't there, for it was a grand affair, it was. "And is it "Who all was there?' that ye are afther askin' me? Why, faith, indade, no less swells than the McManns thimselves were there, with their swishin' silk gowns and danglin' ear-rings. If it's style one wants to see, shure one needn't go farther than our own town of Sleightenville to look for it. "What did we do, do ye ask? The saint be blessed, faith, and it's what didn't we do ye should be afther askin'. It's yerself would have enjoyed the music, seein' as how ye're sich a player and singer. 'What was it loike?' Indade! Well, shure to me it was loike havin' a screamin' baby and a howlin' dog together in one room durin' a thunderstorm. But shure, the rist of the people seemed to think it was wonderful. For meself, I was that scared Mary Ann's new pianny would be smashed, I could hardly keep me chair at all, at all; Shure, how anny wan can call thim pieces that they pound off on the pianny music, is more thin I can iver tell. Now, if they had played 'Annie Rooney' or 'Little Kate Kearney,' shure, it would have been somethin' loike. Afther we had a bits to eat 'refrishments,' as Mary 'Ann called thim-the young folks danced till mornin'. And, Mrs. McQuade, shure, it's me sides that were breakin' wid laughin' to see thim doin' the new kind of jig; the Hay Dance, faith, I think they called it. The 'Barn Dance,' is it? Well, shure, I knew it had somethin' to do wid the hay, but from the looks of it, indade, I would have thought it had more to do with lunatics. For of all the jumpin' and kickin' and swingin', shure, there niver was the loike of that whin Pat and I wint to dances in the ould country. Now, don't tell me that's iliven o'clock I hear sthrikin'; well, thin, and I must be goin' this very minit. Shure, an' it's a cup of sugar I came over for an' your askin' me about the party made me fergit that there was a puddin' half made an' waitin' me return. Faith, an' it's mesilf that's much obliged to ye, an' if ye can jist let me have a couple of eggs an' some flour that's all I'll be afther botherin' ye about. Oh, an' I believe it's a cup of butter an' a teaspoonful of soda I'll be havin' to have, too. It's the kindhearted neighbor ye are, to be shure. Well, as I am after sayin' before, it's roight sorry I am ye couldn't be at the party, but I knew ye'd enjoy hearin' of it, so that's why I came over. "Good-day to yez, Mrs. McQuade, an' shure it's yersilf must come over an' see me now. Good-mornin' to ye, thin, I'll say." A Citizen of Sunlight BY FRANK L. STANTON. He was never in the lowgrounds, where the wind of trouble chills; A citizen of sunlight—a brother of the hills; "How's the world a-goin'?" An' his answer still was: "Prime! I'm havin'-oh, I'm havin' of a halleluia time!" A citizen of sunlight, he met the mornin' bright; Opened all Life's windows, an' bathed his soul in light; He heard the bells of mornin' on the highest hilltops chime, Forevermore a-havin' of a halleluia time. No storms could blow the stars out-no thunder's solemn |