"Yes, but she killed old Martin."
"Did she? I saw him not more than three hours ago. Come, Tildy, go on away."
She put the crooked stick under her apron, and, without saying a word, glided out into the darkness. The preacher lifted his hands and uttered a fervent prayer.
Note.—Riders of Monarch Bicycles say they are the very "Poetry of Motion" and a never-ending delight.
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THE SONG OF THE "No. 9."
My dress is of fine polished oak,
As rich as the finest fur cloak,
And for handsome design
You just should see mine—
No. 9, No. 9.
I'm beloved by the poor and the rich,
For both I impartially stitch;
In the cabin I shine,
In the mansion I'm fine—
No. 9, No. 9.
I never get surly nor tired,
With zeal I always am fired;
To hard work I incline,
For rest I ne'er pine—
No. 9, No. 9.
I am easily purchased by all,
With installments that monthly do fall,
And when I am thine,
Then life is benign—
No. 9, No. 9.
To the Paris Exposition I went,
Upon getting the Grand Prize intent;
I left all behind,
The Grand Prize was mine—
No. 9, No. 9.
At the Universal Exposition of 1889, at Paris, France, the best sewing machines of the world, including those of America, were in competition. They were passed upon by a jury composed of the best foreign mechanical experts, two of whom were the leading sewing machine manufacturers of France. This jury, after exhaustive examination and tests, adjudged that the Wheeler & Wilson machines were the best of all, and awarded that company the highest prize offered—the GRAND PRIZE—giving other companies only gold, silver, and bronze medals.
The French government, as a further recognition of superiority, decorated Mr. Nathaniel Wheeler, president of the company, with the Cross of the Legion of Honor—the the most prized honor of France.