32() 



THE A MERU 'A JV B EE- KEEPER 



November 



Under a Blue L.iglit. 



A geBtleman wLo was inviterl out 

 to dine at a West End mansion late- 

 ly observed that the chandelier over 

 the dining room table was of pecul- 

 iar construction, so that there was 

 a light over the head of each guest. 

 The globes were of various colors, 

 some amber, some red and some 

 blue. 



"What is the object of having the 

 globes of different colors?" the guest 

 asked of his hostess. 



"Why, 3'ou see," said she, "when 

 one gives a dinner or tea, one may 

 invite some people whom one per- 

 fectly hates. Now, last Tuesday I 

 gave a supper, and I had to invite 

 two women whom I despise. But I 

 had to ask them, or some of the 

 young men I wanted wouldn't come. 

 I had my revenge on my fair ene- 

 mies, however. I placed each of 

 these two women under one of those 

 pale blue lights at the table. The3''re 

 usually considered beautiful wom- 

 en, but under that light they had 

 the most ghastly look you ever saw. 

 They were perfect scarecrows. They 

 seemed to have aged 20 years the 

 minute that they sat down. 



"The men noticed it, of course, 

 but they did not divine what caused 

 it. Thej' were quite taken aback and 

 awfully glum at first. But finally 

 one of them turned with a sigh and 

 began talkmg to a homely little 

 thing that was sitting under a ruby 

 colored light. Why, she was perfect ■ 

 ly charming under it. So you see 

 that when I want people to look per- 

 fectly hideous I put them under one 

 of the blue lights. It kills every- 

 thing. " 



The gentleman looked up. He was 

 under a blue light! — Pearson's 

 Weekly. 



tunitj^ ot sleeping except as bis corps 

 was passing him. One night, as he 

 had dismounted, leaving his horse 

 in the charge of his orderly, and go- 

 ing down int>j the angles of one of 

 those Virginia fences, he overheard 

 two soldier.- talking, which interest- 

 ed him considerably, and, instead of 

 sleeping, he listened to them. One 

 soldier said to the other: "I sup])ose 

 it's all ri-^Jt that we should march 

 all night and fight bj'' day. Of course 

 it is riglit tiiat weshould do that for 

 the love oi country, if nothing else. 

 I suppose that we should be poorly 

 clothed, as we are, for the love of 

 country. We should endure it. I 

 suppose that to be poorly fed, as we 

 .4re, we should suffer for the love of 

 Country. Of course we should do 

 that. And I suppose, when you come 

 to that, that we should die if neces- 

 sary for the love of country. I am 

 willing to. But there is just one 

 thing tliat I want to say, that if ev- 

 3r I live to get out of this I'll bo 



1 d if I will ever have another 



jountry." — Boston Budget. 



COST Cr KEEPING A MAN. 



Only One Country. 



General Longstreet, in telling of 

 some of his experiences in the w^ar, 

 said that during the campaign of the 

 peninsula he never had any ojDpor- 



Estimated Thnt the Average Briton Lives 

 on $60 a Year. 



An active man, comfortably fed 

 and clothed, writes William Muir, 

 consumes about three pounds of sol- 

 ids and four pounds of fluids per 

 day and wears out about two suits 

 of clothes in a year. 



The value of agricultural produce 

 garnered in the United Kingdom and 

 consumed by its human beings, 

 taken at present farm prices, is (per 

 annum) about £230,000,000. The val- 

 ue of agricultural jjroducts imported 

 from abroad and similarly consum- 

 ed, taken at similar prices, is (per 

 annum) about £200,000,000. This 

 includes cotton and wool. The value 

 of coal similarly consumed — burned 

 for domestic purposes — taken at the 

 full mine value of 8 shillings j)er 

 ton, is (per annum) about £16,000,- 

 000. The sum spent in keeping 



