1897. 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



21 



"Etlie]," i?aid her husband firmly, 

 "you were (clliug us about your cousin 

 Jack Dimly " 



"Ob, was I? Dear me, how stupid I 

 am! Where was I last?" 



"Evaugehue was iu the center of the 

 shaft, aud your cousin and old Mr. 

 Prim, or Pi m, or what's his name, 

 were tryiuc to get her up and down," 

 said my wife. 



"I remen l)er now. Did old Mr. Pyn 

 give up the ship, or the dumb waiter, 

 rather? Ko . he held fast. He called 

 down the shaft to my cousin Jack Dim- 

 ly aud deniaufled that he release the 

 rope, aud my cousin Jack Dimly called 

 back up the shaft that he would hold 

 on until he v as a skeleton sooner than 

 allow the c- ' he loved to return again 

 into the c] 'le^ of such a cruel father. 

 Then old M_ i-/u retorted that his dust 

 would turn Lie down the shaft and get in 

 the eyes of the abominable suitor for 

 his daughter's hand before he released 

 the rope. And he showered down words 

 of reproach aud abuse upon his faithless 

 child, and iry cousin Jack Dimly called 

 tip to her to be of good cheer, as he was 

 near. She rl d not answer. All night 

 long those to determined men clung 

 to the ele\; tor cable. Morning came, 

 and the suijiight was coming into the 

 kitchen, wht u old Mr. Pyn, nearly ex- 

 hausted, whispered hoarsely down the 

 shaft that ti^e milkman would soon be 

 ooming and proposed a truce. 



"My cousii) replied that he dare not 

 let go lest the old man drag up the car. 

 Mr. Pyn replied that he would give his 

 word of honor not to if the young man 

 likewise pledged himself not to drag it 

 down. The parley was a long one, and 

 finally it was agreed that my cousin 

 should come up stairs, and that they 

 would raise Evangeline together. So 

 Jack Dimly went to the Pyn flat, and, 

 with the irate father, drew up the car. 

 What did they find? It was empty." 



"Why, what became of Evangeline?" 

 cried my wife. 



"That was what puzzled old Mr. Pyn 

 and my cousin. She was gone. Where 

 and how, neither knew. And, equally 

 bereaved, they made up and mourned 

 together." - 



"It seems to me Evangeline was a 

 sort of genius," ventured Lieutenant 

 Swash. 



"She wasn't at all. She was simply 



a lovely girl," cried Mrs. Ogglesby Pos- 

 Biter. "She married another man, that 

 Was all. A week later her father and 

 my cousin Jack Dimly got a letter 

 from her from Niagara Falls, where she 

 Was spending her honeymoon, She apol- 

 ogized and explained that she got off at 

 the third floor and eloped with a nice 

 foung bachelor who lived there. " 



"Aud how in the world had they be- 

 come acquainted?" cried my wife. 



"Why, through the speakiug tubes, of 

 course 1 How else could they?" — New 

 York Sun. 



strangle Circulation. 



"Isn't it odd," asked Squildig, "that 

 what I eat should go to my stomach, 

 while what I drink goes to my head?" 



"Yes," replied McSwilligeu, "it is 

 very strange that anything at all should 

 go to your stomach while your head is 

 eo empty 1" — Pittsburg Chronicle- Tele- 

 graph. 



Block Island. 



The hum of the spinning wheel is 

 still a familiar sound on Block island, a 

 quaint aud interesting resort in summer 

 and a miniature world in winter, in 

 which the habits and customs are those 

 of 150 years ago. The island is 15 miles 

 off the Rhode Island shore and almost 

 directly south of stormy Point Judith. 



There are times during the winter 

 when the wind sweeps across the tree- 

 less land at a velocity of 84 miles an 

 hour, aud women take their lives in 

 their hands when they venture out of 

 doors. The isolation of the island is al- 

 most complete. 



John Schofield established the first 

 woolen mill in Connecticut near Oak- 

 dale, where the carding was done by 

 power cards. In 1798 the Block island- 

 ers began to send wool to the mill to be 

 carded into rolls, aud generation after 

 generation have kept up the practice. 

 Formerly many bags of grain accompa- 

 nied the wool, and grist and woolen 

 mills were kept running day and night, 

 while the fishermen and farmers enjoy- 

 ed themselves in the quiet Connecticut 

 village until the work was done. — New 

 York Herald^ 



The first submarine telegraph wire in 

 this country was from Governors island 

 to the Battery in New York, laid in 

 1843. 



