6 FORTUNE'S LITTLE JOKE. When Fortune throws a gift at me 1 look at is suspiciously, But not because it's apt to ba Sleeted injudiciously. 1 look upon her with distrust Whatever she may bring. For, when I stoop, to my disgust She always jerks the string. For Fortune takes ft great delight In seeming prodigality; Her hand Is open with no slight Display of liberality. Rut try to take her proffered gift, It's quite another thing. Her bounty one can hardly lift Before sho pulls the string. She seems so debonair and free. She does it so begullingly; It makes it all the worse that she Will play that trick so smilingly. How sadly often it occurs That Fortune's gifts are snatched Because it is a way of hers To have that string attached! —Chicago Daily News. M A ROSE OF M NORMANDY A WILLIAM R A. WILSON L CHAPTER IV. SHOWS HOW MINK HOST OF"THE STRIPED ASS" TREATED HIS GUESTS, AND HOW HIS PUNISH MENT WAS MADE TO FIT HIS CRIME. It wanted but a few minutes to eight the same evening when the figure of Tonti might have been observed rid ing slowly along near the bank of the .Seine. He walked his horse as though he were in no hurry and his ride were without an object. When opposite Le Pi>at Neuf, he halted and watched for a moment the group of idlers gathered about the equestrian statue of King Henry in the center of the bridge, who were leaning over the parapet and engaged in bandying jests with the tooatmen passing beneath the arches. Having seemingly gained all th*- amusement possible from a contempla tion of this spectacle, Tonti soon re sumed bis journey, turning off in a short time from the river bank and threading his way through various •cross-streets until he reached the Rue St. Honore. Following this thorough fare as far as the city gate, he stopped bis horse in the shelter of the wall of Les Capucins, to await, his companion. In a moment or two he beheld a ;sight that made it hard for his mirth loving nature to keep itself within bounds. A small white ass came amb ling along and passed him, carrying a very fat, unwleldly-formed monk of the Franciscan order, clad in gray cowl, girdle, and sandals. His monk ship apparently had not been astride an animal for a long time, and such were the evident signs of discomfort op his face that one instantly sur mised that he was undergoing a pen ance of some sort. He made no at tempt to guide the ass, but sat hold ing on helplessly to the rope that ■served as rein and bridle. The gate was not yet closed for the night, so JjJLZLZLJ 9 ' c —- CAM I.] AMBLING ALONG. he passed unchallenged, the guards laughing heartily af the figure he cut. Tonti waited until he had gotten a •couple of minutes' start of him, and • hen turned into the road and passed likewise through the gate without hindrance. The night watch had just arrived, and in the confusion attend ing the change of guard he was easily overlooked. He had hardly gone a score of paces beyond, when he heard the gate close behind him. Any one leaving or entering after that hour would be carefully scrutinized. In the fast-galhering gloom, Tonti spied his ecclesiastical friend trotting peacefully along the Chemin de Vii •lers. He hurriedly followed him, but preserved a respectful distance. He received no sisn. neither heard any sound from him. Becoming alarmed lest, he had really made a mistake, lie was about to turn back toward the city, when suddenly the ghostly figure I>f-gan beating his animal with the rein and kicking his sides as effect ively as ho could with h!s sandaled feet. "A murrain seize this beast for a vicious, rough-riding child of Beelze bub. May Ihe devil take him and all his kind! Ha! mon ami Tonti, 1 feared ii was not you Someone else followed me on a horse almost up to the gate, and I did nor know but that you were he. I fear that he suspected that I was disguised. I don't believe <£hut I sit v\ ell when I ride." A shout of laugh tar from Tonti greeted this speech. "Peste! Pompon, if t do not get you a place in the Horse Guards. You sit your animal like a sack of meal." "You would look like one yourself," Pompon replied, rather testily, "if you had a back stuffed with straw and a paunch made out of enough hay to keep a horse in health for a week, all squeezed into a heavy cowl and tied together with a stout cord. Between the heat and discomfort of my dis guise, and the jolting of this beast, I am thankful we have only four leagues to go. He who is in great haste should not ride an ass." "Where got you your disguise?" queried Tonti. "From my friend the cabaretier," was the reply. "He was one of M. Fouquet's secret agents; many is the message I have taken from him. The words 'Remember sixty-four' that I told you to whisper to him is the se cret means of recognition among all those who were connected with the unfortunate minister. It was in 1064, you know, that he fell." "Are there any others?" "Hundreds. They are in every rank and condition. M. Fouquet was a good master to serve and a liberal one, as I can bear witness. All who served him loved him." Talking thus of his old employer, a theme Pompon never tired of, the strangely assorted pair rode on into the shades of the on-coming night. When about half the distance had been traversed, they turned off into a road leading to the left, and by ten o'clock saw a light or two from the small ham let of Ecouen twinkling in the dark ness ahead of them. Oil reaching the outskirts of the village, they dismount ed and led their beasts into a wood at the side of the road and tethered them. Entering the town on foot, they found it considerably later than they had hoped for, so they quickened their pace, lest the inn be closed for the night. Here and there a light was visible where some late-a-bed still kept his house open for a neighborly game of dice, and from one or two half-open doors came the sound of feasting. As they drew near the most prominent of the window-lights, they found it.to belong to an inn of the older type. All was still in the story above, and quiet reigned about the place. A shed for the disposal of trav elers' horses was situated at one end of the building, while above the door a sign of some sort grated harshly as the light nyjlit wind moved it slowly to and fro. It was too dark for the two men to decipher anything on the signboard, so they approached the window from which the glow pro ceeded. Tonti raised himself on tip toe and looked in. The interior was apparently empty, and consisted of the usual public-room of the average inn of the period. Upon the huge hearth a bright fire was blazing, which cast alternate light, and shade upon the low ceiling and the further corners of the room. A num ber of heavy wooden tables with benches around them filled up the greater portion of the floor space. On these a profusion of emptied, dirty glasses and mugs bespoke a good night's custom for the proprietor. At the side of the room was arranged a kind of private office, as it were, fenced off from the rest by a railing, behind which was placed a table and a bench. It was evidently the innkeeper's espe cial domain, for, as Tonti's eyes be came more accustomed to the half gloom, he spied the figure of a man seated upon the bench, busily engaged in counting a small pile of coin spread out upon the table before him. He glanced uneasily over his shoulder now and then at the door and the window, as though fearful of being seen. He soon finished his task, and quickly swept the money into a small leather pouch, which he closed with a look of satisfaction, stowing it away in the recesses of his blouse. At this mo ment Tonti left the window, and, ad vancing to the door, struck it sharply with the hilt of his sword. Pompcm, whispering that he would come in later, disappeared in the darkness. "Hola! Landlord, open here! Would you keep a gentleman and a soldier waiting in the night when you have within a good fire to warm his hands and good wine to cheer his heart? Corbleu! Open, I say, or it will be the worse for you. I am not the man to be kept waiting." So speaking, he belabored the door with hilt and fist so lustily that the landlord came running to let him in. crying: "Yes, yes, gentlemen, in one mo ment, I pray you. But ao not awaken the whole house. It is late,"he con tinued, unfastening the door and open ing it an inch, peering out meanwhile to see what manner of guests he was welcoming, "late indeed for honest folk to be abou*." As soon as the crack of the door widened sufficiently to adimt the hilt of the sword, Tonti inserted it, and with a quick pressure with this lever he swung the door open in spite of the landlord's efforts to hold it. "How now, Sir Innkeeper! Dame! but I believe you would have kept me out there a full hour longer if you had had your way." So speaking, he stepped into the light of the room. Upon seeing a man evidently a soldier and from Paris, the landlord's fears quieted themselves. One suspicion, however, remained. "Paraon. Sir Capitaine," he bowing obsequiously, "but where is your companion? Did yon not say that there wen- two of you, a soldier and a gentleman?" Tonti wj.s puzzled for a moment, and then iaugh*d. "And may 1 not be both? Here, bite that and tell me if it be gold or no. If so, fetch me a bottle of wine, the very 'oest, and some food." So saying, he flung down a pistole upon the table near him. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 1905. The lnnkepper quickly seized it, bit it, and after testing its ring, pocketed it with alacrity, his suspicions van ished. "Draw near the fire," he exclaimed, as he busily stirred the logs, "and I shall return presently with the best bottle to be found this side of Paris. It has been in the cellar for 14 years, ever since I came to this town, and was there I know not how long before me." With these words, he hastily brushed off a bench, motioned Tonti to be seated, and was gone. Tonti looked about him carefully. "It must be the place," he mur mured to himself. "He said he had been here 14 years, and it is just that length of time since Fouquet's down fall!" His eyes wandered toward the fire place and his thoughts were confirmed. A huge stone slab some seven feet in length and three in width constituted the hearth. This stone was bordered by a single row of bricks that were covered with dust and ashes. Tonti's eyes danced with excitement as he beheld them, and he wondered why Pompon was delayed so long and what his plan would be to get a chance of testing the truth of his cipher-mes sage. Presently he heard the innkeeper returning, and he reappeared bearing the remains of a huge goose-pie in one arm and a dusty, musty, cob webbed bottle of wine in the other. These he placed before his guest, who was soon devouring the one and sip ping the other, whose grapes must have weighted the vine on the sunny vineyard slopes fully 30 years before. He was about to compliment the land lord standing before him upon the ex cellence of his providing when he heard the voice of singing in the street outside the inn and close at hand. . "Quand nous fumes sur le pont qui tremble, Helas, mon Dieu!" were the words they heard. Then came a silence, broken only by the shuffling sound as of some one walk ing laboriously among the pebbles and sand of the roadway. Then came the song nearer than before: "Quand nous fumes le Saintonge, Helas, mon Dieu!" followed by a heavy knock at the door. The innkeeper hastened to open it, and the light from the fire fell full on the figure of Tonti's late compan ion. He had found and trimmed a young tree into a serviceable pilgrim's staff, and his expression was that of great, weariness. "Pax vobiscum," he said gravely, addressing the innkeeper. This indi vidual crossed himself, replying, "And with you, father." The monk then laid aside his staff, and approached the table next to the one at which Tonti was seated. "I would have lodging and a bit of food, for I have fasted since daybreak. Gold have I not, for it would ill be come him whose boast is that, poverty is his bride to carry any money with him. But I am privileged to grant an indulgence, in return for food and lodging," and the tired monk settled down upon a bench and looked hun grily about him. "Have you no relics that will ward off disease?" asked the innkeeper. "A bone from the hand of some good saint or something from the holy land?" "Nay, nay," exclaimed the monk in seeming anger. "I am no hawker of bogus relics, nor claim any kindred with the devil-spawn who go through the land plying their unholy trade. With them they have but to see your money in their hand when the merry rougues will sell you a cart-load of laths from the ark of pere Noah, a ring from the snout of St. Anthony's pig, or the crest of the cock that crowed before Pilate." The landlord seemed duly impressed with the superior merits of the beg ging friar, and started off to get some scraps for his meal. Tonti, who had up to this time remained silent, watch ing the game his conipfinion was play ing, called after him: "Bring the reverend father's meal to my table, and fetch another glass, that he may share my wine with me. I warrant he Is a good Judge of it." The monk bowed his (hanks, and re plied with a wink at Tonti: "He is an ill guest that never drinks to his host. Might I suggest, my sol dier friend, that the good innkee. 51 letch a glass tor himself?" Tonti agreed, and the host hastened to find the glasses, feeling glad to get a chance to tasPe some of his own r.ire wine at t lie expense of some one else. As soon as he had disappeared, the monk reached over to Tonti's glass and shook a white powder into it, from a bit of paper in his hand, th*n filled it from the bottle. "Now, your part to see that yon rascal gets your glass." he said in a low voice, and resumed his seat. The innkeeper soon returned with two fresh glasses, which Tomti filled, and then by a deft movement of the hands he exchanged his glass for that nearest th(? landlord. "Here's to our host," cried Ton#i, as the man sat down and seized his glass. "May he never want a lodger!" "And to this goodly quiet inn, the— what is your house called, sir host?" asked the strange monk. "The Striped Ass," was the reply. "To the Striped Ass, then." con tinued Pompon; "may his bray lie ever loud to attract, customers, and his tem per mild, so that he will spare theia kicks." All three drained their and a period of silence ensued, broken only by the sound of the fire and the munching of the goose-pie, as Tonti made another onslaught. A touch from the monk's foot under the table a few moments later made him look up. and he beheld the effects of the drug j beginning already to manifest them selves on the face oi the innkeeper, whose copious potations during the early part of the evening made him an easy prey. His eyes seemed heavy, and an overpowering desire lo sleep seized him. A moment lie struggled against the feeling, then surrendering to it entirely, his face fell forwa:tl on hi 3 hands, which lay upon the table. Pompon jumped up quickly and, seiz ing the man, shook him to make sure of the depth of his slumbers. There was no response. "He will sleep thus for 24 hours. Let us hasten, though." A table and bench were first placed in front of the door leading out of the room into the other part of the house, so that they would have time to leave in case any one approached from that direction. The other door was fastened, and the curtain drawn. Pompon, then taking a small dagger, knelt down beside the hearth, and counting the row of bricks until he came to the middle one, carefully dug away all the accumulated dust and dirt, and gently pried the brick from its place. Beneath it was seen a small iron ring, which he seized. It gave readily, and could be pulled out about an inch. This evidently withdrew some hidden bolt, for when he cau tiously bore the weight of his foot on one extremity of the huge stone, it turned slowly on an unseen axis, one end rising into the air while the other disappeared in a large space Bending down, Pompon found a cavity corresponding in width and length to the stone and about four feet in depth. By lying on the floor and stretching over the hole, he was able to feel the contents. A smothered exclamation of joy passed his lips, as he tossed to the floor a bag of money, and soon after feeling around more carefully in the opening, he found another. "What say you now, mon ami?" he cried joyfully. "Did I not say M. Fou quet (Heaven rest his soul!) was faith ful to them who served him faithfully? Here are the 2,000 pistoles." They placed the money on the table, and swung the stone back to its normal position. Pompan then handed the bags to Tonti, and urged him togo ahead of him to the place where their animals had been left, saying that he would remain behind and attend to the unbarricading of the door and yet overtake him before he had his horse untied. Tonti did as suggested, leaving Pom pon in the room. No sooner had he gone than Pompon approached the slumbering landlord, and, turning his face toward the light, examined it closely. As he did so, a look of awakened recognition was confirmed, and Pompon's eyes became smaller and glittered with a strange enven omed look of hatred like a snake about to strike. With deft fingers he searched the clothes of his victim, but it was not for robbery, for he left the bag of money he found there; some thing else was the object of his search. [To Be Continued.! Her Company Vole*. "Who is that in the parlor, Nellie?" asked the little sister. "O, yes, there must be some one else," rejoined the little girl, "for mama has her company voice on." It was a little squib under the head ing of "Fun," which a member of the family read aloud from the paper. The circle about the table who heard it smiled, and one said, "That's a good joke." But a more thoughtful mem ber turned it over in her mind. She w r as the mother, and she admitted to herself that it was more than a good joke—that in many instances it was sober truth. It came home to her heart with great signficance, for she acknowledged to herself that "the company voice" was entirely too often put on when in the presence of those outside the home cir cle. We wish to appear at our best be fore those whose good opinions we de sire to gain. But with those who love us how often we speak in irritable, harsh, quick tones.— Evangelist. A Oonlitftil Compliment. "My dear, I have a great compliment for you," said the Boston man to his New York niece, who was paying a month's visit and attending many serious entertainments. "A compliment?" and the pretty eye brows were raised incredulously. "Yes," said her uncle, cordially. "Professor Mildew said he noticed you particularly at. the reception Monday afternoon, and he thought you had a most Intelligent face." "There, aunty," said the frivolous young person, turning reproachful eyes on her relative. "I told you I looked like a perfect frump in that brown dress, but you said I didn't! You see what he thought, don't you? He couldn't think another thing to say!"— Youth's Companion. Twitting on Fncla. "A certain class of insane persons are remarkable for their ready and apt retorts," said Dr. George T. Win ston, the criminologist. "I have in mind a young man in a Boston retreat. The first time I ever saw him he sat on the floor, swearing bitterly. " 'Tut, tut!' said I. 'Don't swear!' " 'Why not?' said he. " 'Because,' said I. 'you won't go to Heaven if you do.' " 'Oh,' said the young man, disdain fully, 'l'm not going to try togo to Heaven. There's more trying now than'll ever get in.' " —N. Y. Tribune, The I'rofexMor'a Function. An Oxford professor, distinguished for scholarly habits of the most pro nounced description, remarked to his companion at table that he had accept ed the invitation of a well-known peer lor a week's shooting in Scotland. "Why Professor Blank," ex ;iaim ed his companion, "I didn't know you were a gun!" "I'm not, mv dear," said the pro fessor. "I m a knife md fcik" — Youth's Companion. '■ffjjg' sggggp 1 Balcom & Lloyd, j i Si m [p 1 I 1 11 m lljjl ffl WE have the best stocked pj I general store in the county -J and if you are looking for re liable goods at reasonable jjjj prices, we are ready to serve |j you with the best to be found. j| Our reputation for trust- J worthy goods and fair dealing 1 8 is too well known to sell any p but high grade goods. s) i | pj Our stock of Queensware and J* |j Chinaware is selected with Jf great care and we have some TJJ |1 of the most handsome dishes Sj || ever shown in this section, 1 both in imported and domestic |gj makes. We invite you to visit us and look our goods over. Sj I I l | m if 1 i m ffl I Balcom & Lloyd. | ■» £ I nflK PI QPU/UPRP BUT DON ' T FORGET THESE & 5 LUUIV tLOtWntnt PRICES AND FACTS AT jjf [LaBARS 930 Bedroom Suits, solid 1 40 Sideboard, quartered W 6 s'23 Bedroom Suits, solid s2l S3B Sideboard, quartered $25 « & $25 Bedroom Suits, solid 1 22 quartered J|g A large 11ns of Dressers from Ohifflonlers of all kinds and & y $8 up- prices. W gf A large and elegant Hue of Tufted and Drop-head <*, Couches. Beauties and at bargain prices. » Q. The finest line of Sewing Machines on the market, JUL nr the "Domestic" and "Eldredge". All drop heads and nr rS warranted. jfi $ A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in 38 $ sets and by the piece. o As I keep a full line of everything thai goes to make% 3ft * up a good Furniture store, it is useless to enumerate them 5* aIL & □ Please call and see for yourself that I am telling you ?? £L the tiuth, and if you don't buy, there is no harm done, as ft nr it is no trouble to show goods. w | GEO. J. La BAR. |
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers