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"Yes, what is your vocation? I mean, what do you do for a living?"
"Ah, yesser, yesser, I understands yer now. Wat I does for a livin' is—my wife takes in washing."
Farmer—"Hi, there! Can't you see that sign, 'No fishing on these grounds'?"
Colored Fisherman—"Co'se I kin see the sign. I'se cullid, Boss, but I ain't so ignorant as ter fish on no grounds. I'm fishin' in de crick."
An old darkey of Charleston, South Carolina, was fully impressed with the importance of the exigency when, between the shocks of the earthquake in that city, he prayed: "O Lord, come down here now yerself, and doan send any of yer family, kase dis ain't no boy's play."
"Good Heavens, Washington, how does your master live in such a mosquitoey hole as this?"
"Well, Sar, the fact am, at night Mars George am so intoxified he don't give a cuss for the skeetcrs. and in de morning de skeeters am so intoxified, they don't give a cuss for Mars George."
De good Lawd make us thankful fer what we about ter receive; but fer Heaven's sake keep us out de hands of de receivers.
T DON'T set down,
Of de good-time ban's;
Wen de black night go,
"Misery may like company," says a colored philosopher, "but I'd rader hab the reumatiz in one leg den hab it in de bof."
Dolpiius—"Dat am a fine turkey yo' got, Rastus. Am it dry picked?"
Rastus—"No, Dolphus, hit wall rainin' wery ha'd when I picked dat bird."
An old negro preacher divided his sermon into two parts—"Fust, all de things in dc text; and second, all de things not in de text; and, Bredren, we'll wrastle with the second part fust."
Customer (getting his hair cut)—"Didn't you nip off a piece of the ear then?"
Barrer (reassuringly)—"Yes, Sah, a small piece, but not 'nough to affect de hearin', Sah."
"What dat, Judge, yer ax me what wocas+iun am?"
my Lots of folks is as stubborn as what de mule
is, and not half so useful in plovvin' time.
Solution of the Mystery of the Deadly Slumber from -which No Victim
By PAUL ARR
IN THE KONGO the natives have for three years past been afflicted with a mysterious, deadly ailment, called the "sleeping sickness." The victim at first displays extreme drowsiness, and then is overcome by an incontrollable desire to sleep while at work or play. He falls asleep at his meals, and, when on a journey—no matter of how great importance—will lie down by the roadside and sleep until awakened. At length it becomes difficult to arouse him, then more difficult and still more difficult, until finally he sinks into the sleep from which there is no waking. No one stricken with the disease has ever recovered. It has wiped out whole towns and neighborhoods of the negroes during the three years of its terrible ravages. Scientists have gone from all parts of Europe to study the malady, but its origin has until very recently remained a deep mystery.
These parasites are carried by the tsetse fly. and deposited in sufferers, causing sleeping sickness.
has arisen that the ailment may become general among both the white and native inhabitants of Africa. Already the captain of a British vessel has met death from the disease, and several white residents of Uganda have been afflicted with the usual results. No living thing that has been bitten by the tsetse fly—save the immune ox—has ever recovered.
It has been found that it is not the actual bite of the fly that is poisonous, but the fly deposits in one animal a microbe—the Trypanosoma—which it has sucked from the blood of another animal. This same microbe is found in ordinary sewer rats of Chicago and New York, but has hitherto been regarded as harmless. In rats the Trypanosoma is revealed under the microscope to be a worm-like microbe which dashes about at an extraordinary rate, causing everywhere a violent commotion by the lashing of a whip which it possesses at its anterior end. Rats appear to treat this unruly parasite witli indifference. No harm is known ever to have been caused by this
Examining A Patient Suffering With Sleeping Sickness.
Doctors puncturing the spinal column in which
vast area of the Gran Chaco, where the pampas of Argentina, Bolivia, Paraguay, and Brazil meet, the Trypanosoma of Mai <lc Caderas has swept tens of thousands of horses off the face of the earth; and in many regions the bandy-legged Gaucho bemoans the loss of his horse, whose place has been taken by the humble but immune ox. The Trypanosoma of Dourine is also universally fatal to horses.
The tsetse fly is supposed to have been brought to Uganda by Emit] Pasha's followers after their relief by Stanley in the eighties. It gained such a foothold in so short a time, and created so much havoc among the natives, that the Royal Society sent out an expedition for the study of the malady. Inquiry showed that the area affected was principally along the
Busoga and Kavirondo shores of Lake Victoria. In the islands the mortality had been terrible. A laboratory was established at Entebbe, and study was begun. But the task was difficult, and the problem seemed no nearer solution when Colonel Bruce was despatched to investigate and elucidate the problem. With his wife, who had also accompanied him to Zululand, the Colonel soon discovered that the Trypanosoma was found in every case of the disease: it was not found in persons not suffering from the disease. It was present in the blood. Only a blood-sucker could put it there. Examination soon revealed the fly—a tsetse fly—differing but slightly from the old tsetse of Zululand. Natives were instructed to collect the flies, which soon
Tsetse Flies (glossina Moksitans) Before And After
Becoming Infected Bv Absorbing The Blood
Of A Sleefing-sickness Patient.
began to arrive in packets by the hundreds every day. The geographical distribution of the fly was found to correspond exactly with that of the disease.
The Sphere, of London, in commenting on the discovery, says:
"The importance of these researches can scarcely he overestimated. We may still be a long way off the cure, but the cause is known. The harmless parasite of the rat has led to the discovery of others which have been shown to be the most deadly of all microbes that infect man and animals. Science may yet rid Uganda—perhaps the best of all our African possessions—of this terrible curse which affects its inhabitants."
A Poor Boy's Country
Extracts from Address Delivered at Second Annual Reception Tendered
by Armour Institute of Technology to Students of the American
School of Correspondence, June 17, 1904
By HON. JONATHAN P. DOLLIVER
Junior United States Senator from Iowa.
AM TO SPEAK for a little while upon the country in which we live, with a special reference to its present opportunities for young people to fight successfully the battle of life; and, if you will allow me. I intend to approach the subject through something specially suggested by the biography of the late President of the United States.
Every human life has an important significance. There are some lives lifted up so that all generations of men may see them and mark out the spirit and significance that lie in them; but the thing that I desire to speak of in connection with the life of William McKinley is the lesson that may be learned from such a man. who, without any outside assistance, without disturbing the institutions of society, made his way from an humble situation in life until, before he was sixty, he stood upon the highest eminence known among men.
There has grown up within our lifetime a school of thinkers and critics who teach that the world we are in is hardly fit to live in; and that, before the poor shall have a chance, it is first necessary to subvert the old institutions of society and bring in a new order of things—a benevolent regime. I like the life of McKinley because it rebukes this thought. I believe the longer I live, the less sympathy I have for the children of the poor. I am saving my sympathies now—all that I have to spare—for the children of the rich.
McKinley was not born in abject poverty. He was one of a family of children born on the average level of life, where nearly every one else is born. He .was born upon the average plane of life
which has given to the world practically every important personage in history.
Emerson was right' when he said that the only way to study the history of the world is to study the lives of the men who have made history. I tried this method and started with the life of Napoleon, but I had not read ten pages before I came to the conclusion that he wasn't in our class at all!—that he was not a man, but a monstrosity, the like of which never got into the world before, and, fortunately for mankind, is not likely to again. I had the same experience in reading Carlyle's "Life of Oliver Cromwell." To this day I cannot pick that book up and mark the gulf which seems to be fixed between the man's preparation and what he did, without a strange sensation creeping over me that the story is not about a man at all. But when you come to the case of William McKinley everything looks reasonable. There is nothing but what almost anyone might have done. No one pretends that he ranked high as a student in school; no one pretends that he was an extraordinary soldier in the field. He went out as a private, and came back hardly more than a private. I have always had a kind of satisfaction in the life of McKinley—that he died as he had lived, shoulder to shoulder with more than a million men in the United States. He was not a great lawyer. You cannot find a trace of any record connecting his name with any prominent case. He was not an extraordinary member of Congress. The thing that made more impression than anything else was the fact that no one seemed to envy him a single faculty that he had. He gained the position which he held in the House, not through any great act that he initiated, but by simply holding his place and rising to a position of leadership by reason of long service. To this day, while the sum of his achievements is great, there is no trace of a record connecting the name of McKinley with any extraordinary parliamentary proceeding. He lived an average life, hardly appearing to have taken a single step that nearly every one else under favorable circumstances might not have taken. That is why I like the biography of McKinley—to answer every humbug philosophy of human life aiming to overthrow the institutions of society in order to give the poor a better opportunity. The Lord seems to have arranged this world in such a way that no one appears to amount to anything unless he does something, and no one does anything except those of us who have to; therefore the poor boy is the only boy who ever had a chance, or who ever can have a chance, to do anything. If you give a boy $50,000, you run the risk of simply ruining him for life. He is fully satisfied and does not start. He simply coils himself up on the door-mat, and it requires more than parental energy to kick him into the street. So I would suggest to you the propriety of keeping the two as far as possible out of each other's way. It will be better for the boy, and, in the long run. better for the $50,000. If there are girls in the family, why, of course, that is somewhat different. On account of the uneven way in which society has got itself divided, it is well to give the girls half of the money; but take the rest, and give it to some institution of learning that shall help to save the world ; and let the boys fight the battle of life as you have fought it. * * * The law of human life is not a law of ease, not a law of deliverance of any kind. The law of human life is a law of labor, of sacrifice, of service; and that man renders this poor old world of ours a mean turn who tries to take away the means by which the strongest manhood is made.
A year or so ago I went to Kentucky to make a political speech: and when I got through, the boys said they wanted to entertain me. I thought they intended
to entertain me on peculiar Kentucky lines. I said, "Gentlemen, there is one thing in Kentucky I should like to see. Down on the edge of Hardin County there is a cabin in which the mother of Abraham Lincoln was living when he was born. I should like to visit that spot." We started; and the next day, toward sundown, we came to Hardin County, and I found myself standing, with hat in hand, in reverence before all that is left of that rude cabin which sheltered the infancy of the grandest man that ever lived in the most trying of times. That cabin is more royal than all the palaces of the earth. It did not shelter the child of a king; but there is something more royal than a king—it is a man. For hours I stood there; and I said to myself, "This is the American type of royalty." You can turn the pages of history and not find a name that does not have a background of poverty and hard w:ork—from Washington down to our own times. Every one came up to that honor through the tribulations of poverty. William J. Bryan is no exception to that rule. He had a hard struggle in his younger days. He has served a good many years in the House of Representatives, where I have known him well, and I use him to illustrate the unlimited opportunity for young manhood in the United States. There, is a man hardly forty-five years old, who, without the help of money or influential connections of any kind, but by the unaided forces of his own character, has become the wellbeloved leader of millions in the United States.
Not only is it true that every important public career has had that background of hardship and toil behind it—the same thing is true of every important business career. * * *
In these days there are mighty few people who are going to be President or even Vice-President of these United States. Few people arc going to be presidents or even vice-presidents of railroads. The great majority of people are going to live very ordinary, humble lives in this world. My father was a Methodist preacher, and he used to say that the Lord gives to every one of us everything