| "Which Is For j > Memory." j I I \ By MARION TRAVERS. \ J Copyrighted, 1 L"O9. by Associated \ \ Literary Press. \ A man and a maid stood on the porch of a little New England farm house. The man had barely passed his majority, and the years of the girl numbered less thau his by three. The mau was going hundreds of miles to the westward, there to find a compe tence. When he had succeeded the girl was to come to him for the rest of the hap py years. In his hands were two sprigs of rosemary, one of which he gave to the maid. "It's for remembrance, Betty. Not that we will either of us need it. dear, but I shall carry it with me wherever I go." "You know you'll always be in ray thoughts, Tom. I'll put it under my pillow at night that I may dream of you and wear it m»\t my heart in wak ing hours that every beat may be for you. Goodby, Ton. ami <"orl bless you and send y>u back to me." And the maid turned lier lips upward for her lover's Uiss. "Goodby, Betty! It won't bo for long, and then we will 1 >• together for ( the rest of our lives." And lie gave ' her one last can s bi 112 re he turned ! and started down the graveled pal.l ! bound on the outtrall. Betty had been motherless sine her j Sixth year, and at the <•!< so of a \vl:> 1 ter's day the • 1 ' ' '*r left its 1 gaunt frana ■" v no. Tom wrote a t : r.f tender! consolation, and it wn« 11 the absent sweetheart she ! • .1! ;• i•. . the day* j and nights of her affliction. Betty's father had been frugal and 1 shrewd, and there was enough to pro j vide for the remainder of her days. .She had no relatives in the home of her father, and when legal matters were finally adjusted she left for a big western city to live with an aunt while she was waiting f< r Tom. It was then the first blow fell. No letter came from her sweetheart In the far west. At llrst she did not worry, for he had written that he was FADED OLD LETTERS WERE BROUGHT Of! AND READ. going on a long prospecting trip and might lie weeks, even mouths, from civilization. But when spring came and in turn gave way to summer, and summer lied before the chilling blasts of autumn, and the weeks dragged drearily by un til a year had passed. Betty abandoned hope. She wrote to the authorities of tho frontier town where he usually out fitted, but they could tell her nothing. Tom had left in April. lie had not re turned. They knew nothing of his fate. In the passing of the years her grief was softened, but the ugon.v of her loss was there, locked with her love In the innermost recesses of her heart. Suitors came, but were sent away, not hurt, but firmly, gently denied. Her cousins married, little ones cuine to bless them, and to all she was Aunt Betty. There was another Betty now, a pretty, graceful maid of seventeen, Joying in her first glimpses of social life and rapturously happy because she was Just living. They were great cronies, these two Bettys, aud il was often remarked that their resemblance extended away and beyond the name. "Aunt Betty, why didn't you mar ry?'' asked the little Betty one after noon when tJie_two were having a long, confidential chat. Then faded old letters were brought out and read, the dimmed tintype of a country boy with a fine featured face was rried over and the withered sprig of rosemary lifted gently from the Jewel case, where it had reposed so many years instate. "And the rosemary, auntie?" queried little Betty. "Ilosemary Is for remembrance, dearie. We each had a sprig and were to keep it always, so that when rcr we saw it the other's face would appear In our dreams," said auntie. "And do you dream of him yet?" <p*irtrued the younger. "Bless you, Betty, 111 always dream of him, and I pray now that after 'death here I may see him." "And so that's the reaeoc yen dMnt let Dr. Tborate* and the other* marry you when they asked 7" "Betty, how did you know?" "Oh, I heard mamma talking about it. But I won't tell, auntie," she prom ised penitently. "But It's lovely, Aunt Betty. It's perfectly splendid to love so long and so hard when you know he's dead. Would he care, do you think, if you married some one else?" "lie knew I never would," and the older Betty sighed. After that, the little Betty had togo away to school. She was sent to a <3i.«i:i!:t city to be taught all manner of thing.; embraced in that word "fin- | tshed." To her romantic soul came many ex periences, many temptations to surren der to what she thought was love, but always she measured the depths of her j emotions by Aunt Betty's loyalty of a score of years. "Would 1 love him like that?" she , would ask of herself, and always the ; suitor failed in the test. One afternoon she went to a mati nee at a downtown theater. As she ! was leaving the playhouse she was ; confr<4|tcd by a stalwart man, whose agitation was greater than her own. "Betty Randall!" he all but shouted In his excitement. "Auntie!" gasped Betty. "Are you Betty Randall?" queried the stranger. "Of course not. You're just a child, and Betty would have been more than twice your age if she were alive," and he apologized for his rudeness as he turned to go. It flashed over Betty in an Instant. Could it be true? She decided to risk It. "Tom!" she called softly. The man wheeled at the word and stood staring at the girl. "Are you Tom Wilson?" she asked. "And did you leave over twenty years ago togo out west, and"— she con tinued. "Yes, yes! Why—how—who are you?" he demanded. "Bettj Randall is my aunt," said Betty, "and she has your sprig of rose mary." "Here's mine!" he cried, and he plunged Into his pi ■ ket and brought forth a worn wallet. That night Mr. Wilson had a lot. 1.:1k with Betty at the school. 81k ar ranged togo home the nest morninu. ai 1 Tom was to follow the day afte: He explained how lie had been si ' for a year from exposure While lost in the mountain \ h \ hew rote to 11, old address, ' ~.>t 11 1 reply. He had gi • •: . k to the New Hamp shire town. Vtt no one could give hi l '! Betty's aih.So, with fortune ' yond his lw>yh'<d dreams, he had ram bled tip and down tho world, hoping hunting an ! miserable. "Aunt Betty," said little Betty t\v. days later, "suppose Tom is alh Suppose he didn't die, but couldn't find out where you were. Wouldn't that be fine?" And her eyes danced with what the cider took to be girlish en thusiasm for a romance so near to her. There was a knock at the door, and n maid entered with a card tray. "There's a gentleman downstairs to see you. Miss Randall. He wouldn't give 1110 his card, but said you'd un derstand by this." And she held out the tray so that there was disclosed thereon a sprig of rosemary. "Betty, It's true! lie's alive! It's Tom!" And i':e : :ved with which siie descended played havoc with orthodox Ideas of dignity. She fell rather than ran into the sitting room, there to be clasped In two arms, while a man's voice came softly to her: "At last! Thank God, at last!" His Opportunity. A lineup of jurymen appeared he fore a cor!nln judge one day, nttd every niati explained that it would mean din aster to him to serve at that term of court—nil but a little fellow at the tnl! end of the line. This man was a hunt er, and he had lived in a cabin on t! creek all his life. "Have you no excuse to offer?" as!;e ! the surprised Judge. "No. sir." "Haven't you trot a sick motlier-in law needing your attention?" ".Vo, sir: T ain't married." "What about your crop?" "Don't raise anything." "No fence to tlx up?" "Haven't got. a fence 011 the place." "You think you can spare the tiinf to serve on a jury two weeks?" "Sure." The Judge sat awhile and meditated. Reaching over, lie whispered to the cleric, who shook his head In perplex ity. Then the judge's curiosity got the better of him. "You're the only man who's got the time to serve your country as a jury man," he said. "Would you mind tell lng me how it happens?" "Sure not," said the little man promptly. "I heard you was going to try Jake Billings this term. He shot a do£ o' mine oncet." Still in the Business. Lord Kames, a once famous Scottish judge, on his way southward to Perth from the northern circuit had to spend the night at Dunkeld. Next morning he made for the ferry across the Tay but, missing the road, asked a passer by to show him the way. "With all my heart," said tho stran ger "I see your lordship does not know me. My name's John Gov.* Don't you remember me? I had the honor to be tried before your lordship for sheep stealing " "Now I recollect you, John," replied the .lodge. "And how is your wife? She, too, bad tho honor to appear be fore rae for receiving the sheep, know lng them to have been stolen." "All, we were very lucky to get off for want of evidence, but I am still i-i the butchering business." "Then." quoth I.ord Kames as he came In sight of the ferry, "we may have tho honor of meeting again." Keeping In Practice. "You have broken my heart," sobbed the young wife after their first quar rel. "I always was a heart breaker," Jauntily replied the young husband. "But you hove broken miuo for the last tiro®." "What—going to deprive yourself of «o much pleasure?" Pltlabl*. •They are v«ry r*sp«ctabl«, though." "Daar me!" "Whatr "I did not think that they ware that poor." Witness My Hand. In the early days only a few schol ars knew how to write. It was then customary to sign a document by smearing the hand with iuk and im pressing It upou the paper, accompa nied by the words, "Witness my hand." Afterward the seal was Intro duced as a substitute for the hand mark and was used with tho words above quoted, the two forming the sig nature. This is the origin of the ex pression as used in modern documents. iliE MAMU'S FAN A Gift That Had In Itself a Sub tle Meaning. By CLARISSA MACKIE. [Copyright. 1310, by American Tress Asso ciation.! Mrs. Hoffman was sewing in the deep, cool veranda of the bungalow. Jeremy, her husband, was coming up the path. "What have you got today, Jere my?" she asked laughingly as he laid an oblong package on the wicker table. "Another cumsha (gift), sweetheart," he smiled, clapping his hands at the drowsy punkah boy on the mat. The greiv. fan swung again into mo tion as the boy awoke to energy, and a servant brought the inevitable tea tray and tall glasses of iced lemonade Jeremy Hoffman leaned back In his chair with a sigh of relief, "it has been beastly hot down in the city, Nell. I've been closeted with Sheldon all the afternoon over that tiresome to- Jife* ft ' 4':; ifll 'o MMWJ IN ANOTHER INSTANT SHE WAS J.YINO UN ( IOIS IN Ills EMBRACE. business, and when I returned to my olliee 1 found an envoy from Liung Well, bearing many friendly messages and this gift for you." Mrs. Hoffman held out her hand for the package. "There, Jeremy! 1 told you the mandarin entertained the kindliest sentiment toward you. lie was perfectly Charming and warm in ills praise of you." "I could not help feeling that he sus pected my mission. lie's a sharp old beggar, and Sheldon has always been very lenient with him. Still, one cnu't refuse a gift in China." "Not one like this," said his wife breathlessly. "Look, Jeremy! Is it not beautiful ?" As she spoke she held to view a fan. The sticks vere of richly carved Ivory covered with lustrous green silk, gay with embroidered flowers in various colors. The fan was connected by a Chain of ivory links with a bracelet of the carved Ivory. "How exquisite!" sighed Mrs. Hoff man, slipping the bracelet on her wrist and fanning herself gently with the toy. Late in the evening she was chat ting with that polished Chinese cour tier, who, ample of figure, with serene countenance and watchful eyes, was one of several of his countrymen whose gorgeous apparel made splen did dashes of barbaric color among the simpler clad Europeans and Amer icans at tin- brilliant public reception. "I am sure this fan has a history," suggested Nell Hoffman, after she hud thanked th■» dignitary for his gift. "Prav tell it to me." Liunjr Well smiled insi ratably and shook his sleek head. "Madam must contrive her own history for the fan," he said. "Perhaps the mission of madam's husband might form the ba sis for a r manee." Mrs. Hoffman puled and turned away. A wave of repulsion swept over her, and for a brief instant she was prompted to return the fan to the mandarin, quite reckless of the breach of politeness. The cold, deadly glitter of the little black eyes threat ened harm to something—some one she loved, ulid Jeremy's mission was a delicate one and dangerous, Indeed. Her husband's work might become the theme for a tragedy, never a ro mance. At that moment Jeremy noffman appeared and carried her away, with parting apologies to the great man darin. "You "are looking ghastly, Nell. What is the matter? I>o you feel ill, dear?" As he asked the question Jeremy's arm was outstretched to catch his wife's swaying form, and in another instant she was lying unconscious In his embrace. "Too much dancing—playing too hard—nerves unstrung—verge of pros tration," snapped out the wiry little English doctor as he left the Hoffman bungalow in the pale dawn. Jeremy went back into the sickroom and looked down at the white face on the pillow. He bitterly reproached himself for letting his fragile wife dance her V.MI :<> merrily into an Ill ness. But l:: y had been married only a brief thn •••■ > an 1 his impor tant mlssU-n »»•••' • ■ T! 1 them directly to Shaughai ibought outside of business li.-d I rr i to uirtke her hap py and kee'' liet s-jused. and now if anything ha- . »:ie<'. If Nell should die he would leave the curt«d country forever, career or no career. He recollected with a sudden mis giving that his predecessor had thrown over the task because his wife had died—El win had returned to America and chucked the service forever. Several days afterward Nell had re recovered sufficiently to be brought out Into the cool, matted sitting room. Her illness had taken the form of a strange Inertia. Hour after hour she would lie with dark lashes fringed against her white cheeks, her bosom scarcely stirring with each feeble breath. 'flie little English doctor was plain!." puzzled. He fetched a clever French physician, and together the two men consulted over (he case. The French man vent away without offering an opinion, but the next day lie came back and ordered Jeremy to take his wife away. "It is poison—so insidious—so subtile —to linger here Is to die. Take her away." "Where can 1 take her?" demanded Jeremy, wild with fear and anxiety. "Anywhere—down to Hongkong if you like. It will be a change." So Jeremy gave up the bungalow and discharged all the sen s, even the faithful old nurse, whom Nell had learned to love. After them be tossed the medicine bottles and pills and powders. If a secret enemy lurk ed In his household, one whose object was to destroy his beautiful bride, the general clearing out would include him. The sea voyage and the arrival at the picturesque Island, with its de lightful points of interest and Its charming English population, did Nell Hoffman a world of good. Gradually the apathy left her and her bright spirits returned. The French doctor made a special trip down the coast to see her and pronounced her 011 tli road to recovery. "Be careful of her," he urged Jer emy. "She is not strong. I cannot de termine what drug or how it has been administered, but surely some slow poison his been given to your viiV Watch, and take care If you have an enemy." That very evening they attended a dinner party. Nell lovely in pale green with the mandarin's fan swlngiu • from her wrist. An hour after her arrival Jeremy accompanied her home again, sitting beside her in the car riage, holding her unconscious form in iiis arms. This time her illness was of longer duration, and in his distress Jen vowed he would return to America immediately upon her recovery. But the recovery was slow, even under the skillful ministrations of the Front h ' doctor. "I toid you to take care—to watcli!" ! be hissed Impatiently at Hoffman. | "1 did, Dr. Davesne," groaned Jer- I emy, flinging himself into a chair and ! dropping his head into his hands. "God knows I have protected her. if 1 she recovers sufficiently I will take j her home." There ltalph Eiwin found him. "Sheldon cabled me to come out said you were in trouble and that 1 heli> heli> you out on the business," said the former as lie shook bands i with Hoffman. j "The business can go bang!" said I Jeremy passionately. "All 1 care about ; is to lake my wife away from this i cursed country. Forgive my temper. Eiwin, but you can understand." i Eiwin nodded gravely. "1 can un ; derstand. 1 waited too long and lost jmy wife. What is the matter villi J Mrs. Hoffman? 1 thought her look ing unusually well when you sailed." Jeremy explained, and Eiwin lis ' tened with Ills face in shadow. As ho finished, Jeremy picked up the j mandarin's fan from the table where j lie had tlung it the night of their re- I turn from the dinner party. | "Six' wns looking quite well anil i fanning herself with this thing, w hen : all at once she just crumpled into a 1 heap." be said. "I.et me ;:ee it." said Eiwin in a I strange voice. lie examined the fan j with keen intensity, lifting it once to his nose and then hastily withdrawing | it. j "Where did she set it?" lie asked • sharply. "A gift from Liung Well. You i know, I'm on friendly terms witli the i old scoundrel, although"— | "Enough! So was 1! Liung Weh | was lavish in his gifts to us. lie gave I my wife a fan like this one, and—oh, 1 my God, if 1 hail only known in I time!" Elwln's voice rang harshly as he leaped to bis feet, "it is Impregnat ! Ed with some cursed poison, Jeremy. ; Ask l)r. Davestie! Let him examine j the fan. If he recognizes the poison 1 he can supply the antidote and cure : your wife. As for Liung Weh"— I "Hut why—why should he attack ! Nell? Why not me—why"— stannner ! Ed Jeremy excitedly. I "Liung Weh does not flglit in the ! open, old man. He killed my wife, | and it sent me home. He thought to j do the same for you and would have done so iu the end. Mary was taken ill iu the same way, only, being of a weaker constitution, she succumbed to the poison at ouce. My advice to you. Jeremy, Is to take Mr*. Hoffman home as soon as she is sufficiently recovered. Let your career go. You can find plen ty to do at home. I will settle wlib Liung Weh. I will carry this mission through without one concession in his behalf." "I will stand by you, Eiwin, and to gether we will tight It out." declared j Jeremy, clasping the other's hand. "Kay," said Eiwin; "love Is greater than fame or revenge or the carriage jof justice. Love is greater than all. ! Guard it carefully, Jeremy, and some i ilay I will return to San Francisco and I tell you bow the romance of the man j ilarin's 112 n turned out to be a tragedy | after all." Turner's Little Afterthought. ! An English critic's reference to Tur j ner's fine picture "The Wreck Buoy" j reminds a faithful newspaper reader [ of a curious anecdote in connection j with It. When Turner tirst sent this j picture to the Itoyal academy it was hung among several brilliantly colored pictures. On varnishing day Turner found the effect of his dull gray ren dering of a stormy sea altogether ■polled by its bright surrounding*. Without a moment's hesitation he painted In the lighted buoy in the fore ground, and its d«b of crimson light ■hewed so brilliantly la its gloomy set ting that Turner's picture became the prominent one, and its rivals on each side were cast Into the shade. It la curious, if true, that the most notice able feature of the picture should have been an afterthought.—Boston Tran script. Teaching 4,000 Sailors to Swi.n. Maueuvurs are not the only activities of the American battleship fleet now iat Guantanamo, in Cuba. A regiment of seamen and a battalion of marines encamped ashore for a fortnight for small arm target practice and drill, and 4,000 men who cannot swim are being I Instructed. \ Violets and |j I Science. \ \ By LUCY M. DELAINE. \ \ Copyrighted. 1003, by Associated A \ Literary Press. \ When Mabel Baskerfield married Herbert Ward, scholar, learned pro fessor, twenty years older than hersell and apparently as serious minded as Mabel was frivolous, all their mutual friends and acquaintances held ur shocked hands, figuratively speaking, at the seemingly ill assorted match. "How had it ever come about'/" one of the many dear friends asked, and "How long will they live together?' asked the more frankly cynical. One month passed by. "Oh, well, ol course, the honeymoon!" doubters laughed, and then another and yet an other month passed apparently serene ly, and another and yet another, until six months had come and gone without any "drifting apart," as Herbert's lit erary colleagues had predicted, or any Indication on Mabel's part that, she had wearied of her staid, scholarly husband. The marriage had taken place in tlit fall—ln the first week in November— and now had come April, with its days HE KXCLAISIED, "WHY, MAIIKL, 1)11) TOT WANT ME?" of sunshine and shadow, its firs blooming crocuses and bluebells, iti quick coming rains and as quickly dis pelling sunshine. Then gossips began to say that mat J ters were tui«iiug out Just as was tc have been expected. Herbert Ware ] passed most of his time in his class j room or study, and Mabel seemed ah | Rorbed til flltinc-i 1' 11.1- - - l.lj : and all kinds of amusements, mnkin, • polite excuses for her husband's all • sence from functions she attended ; saying, ' Mr. Ward is so busy he i • uli I not accompany me." tihe always seemed quite checrfu and contented—just the same n. rry | pleasure loving creature she had a! I ways been-- but on one delicious : prim day In April Mabel left early a lunch j eon she had been attending, pleadin | another engagement. One of her friends attempted to rally j her on leaving the party so early, s.-iy I lug, "Now that you are married, Ma | bel, we shall soon find you giving u ■ up entirely, and you will he taking u] some abstruse study or will be otne se domestic that we shall lose you com pletely." I "Am 1 married?" Mabel retorted. I with half laughing question, and then j added hastily: "Well, so I am. but ii i does not seem to make so very much difference after all. I'o you think it ! dons?" Not waiting to hoar the replies tills query provoked, Mabel, hastily picking up her gloves and the light feather boa who wore with her dainty spring cos tume, started off briskly. Out of sight of her friend's house her footsteps lagged, and a serious look came into tier large soft brown eyes. As she walked slowly, pensive ly along her f.ice would have betrayed to any one who might have chanced to see her that some serious matters engross'd her thoughts. A river tlowed through winding, t~"o lined bunks about the little city, and Mabel « rtissed the bridge and soon fouiid ! rr.u lf : theiing b indfuls of early violets. Agr Mp of white birch trees that i:r" v ilosely together at tracted her g.ami |.;v,\:rd thorn she made her way. As she n; >r • th ■ • t »;he caw lying stret ' I out upon the grass a man's figure, his arms beneath his head anil his face apparently lifted to ward the blue of the tender sky. Some sound of her approach must have reached the ears of the man, who had evidently, like herself, sought a quiet spot for meditation. Turning his gaze toward hex, ho rose and exclaim ed: "Why, Mabel, did you want me?" And before she had time to reply Her bert Ward, for It was he whom Mabel had roused from his reverie, said, hall wistfully, half smilingly: "No; I see you were not looking for me. Ton were Just taking a walk this lovely spring day, and the violets on this river's bank attracted yon." Bnt Mabel gazed silently at her has band. Seeing him so unexpectedly, ■be bad looked at him at first as a stranger might have done, and In her first surprised gase she had noticed how tired he was looking—so weary or despondent or disappointed, she thought to herself. Without answering his query Mabel lifted to his face her serious eyes, and, looking at him questionlngly, she said: "Herbert, you are not well. Is any thing the matter?" "Not well! Nonsense!" he replied hastily. "I nin perfectly well. What put that idea in your head?" "I don't know," she answered, "but seeing you just now so unexpectedly and lying down on the ground, as if you were rest injr, made me think per j haps you were not well." "No, Mabel," he answered, looking j at liis wife as she stood before him j with iier hands filled with the flowers she had gathered. "No, Miwiel; I am just growing old, I nippose. That must be what you feel, what you no tice about me. Poor child, it is 'May and December,' I fear, with us, Mabel. 1 am too old for you. 1 should never have allowed you to become my wife.. "I have noticed for some little time how quiet and changed you are from the happy, light hearted girl I married. It Is natural and nil my fault, for I was old enough to know better," ho ended. "Nonsense, Herbert. Why do you talk of being old? You are not old," she answered. But Herbert, taking Mabel's hands, stlil filled with her flowers, In both of his own, stood tall and straight ami broad shouldered before her as he said very seriously: "Mabel, it Is like you in your kind heartedness to try to convince me that you are not well aware of the too great difference between us—between our ages. You have tried to be gay and light hearted as you used to be that I know well, for I have often seen you rouse yourself from what I knew must bo sad thoughts—but the fact r" mains that you are not happy, and, as I said before, the trouble is that you are in the springtime of life, and I well, I have passed into the cold and loneliness of w inter." Dropping her flowers unheeded t the ground, Mabel came close to lv>> husband's side, and. putting b>r hands on his shoulders, she looked r,, into liis eyes as she said: "My husband, do you not know w l . I have been more quiet perhaps tlivi used to l>e? It was because I thorn you found me silly and frivolous am too young to be your companion, love you as I have always loved yon whether you are forty or sixty < t eighty or a hundred. What differon t <loos It make, the yonrs that are past? Come; it Is the springtime. We will gather the violets together." Anil an Herbert looked searching! Into the face of the now smiling Ma bel what he rend there convinced him that in true love's season it is always sprlng. WAIL OF VETERAN'S WiFE. Please Tell Him the War Is Over, She Asked, and the Court Did. If you were the wife of a civil war veteran and he should get up in the middle of every night nnd march around the room beating a snare drum and singing "We'll Rally ICound the Flag, Roys." wouldn't it strain your patriotism? That's what a tired wo man asked when she appeared the oth er day in the Myrtle avenue court, Brooklyn. "Your honor," said she to Magistrate Naunier, "1 had two husbands, both of whom are dead, before this one. lie is the first war veteran 1 ever had. I love my country and admire George M. Cohan, but 1 think there should b< a line drawn somewhere in this stai spangled banner business. Why, ev ery night almost he gets up—my hus band, 1 mean—ami n »»<>»/«»« «iti. the cry: 'Hark, I hear the rebel yell! To arms, to arms:' Then he gets an old drum and. placing his Grand Army hat on his head, parades around, beat ing the drum and singing 'Marching Through Georgia.* Will you please tell him the war is over?'' The husband assured the magistrate that his wife exaggerated. "Judge." said lie, "I only do that when I'm soused." "Oh. I see:" said th» court, "l'ired with patriotism by rum, you get up in the night and beat your drum:" On his promise to forget the war he was discharged. BOY WITH CORNET VOICE. Peculiar Gift of Brooklyn Lad, Who Imitates Cavalry Calls. Willie La (Ten of 08 Ityerson rtreet, Brooklyn, is the boy with the cornet voice, lie is a little shaver, with a pleasant, chubby face and like a thou sand other boys except when he emits from between his lips sounds so simi lar to those of a B Hat cornet as to deceive any one. The boy was in Broad street. New York city, the other afternoon when he screwed up the necessary courage to send out a bugle call that echoed among the skyscrapers, and instantly there were half a thousand men and boys about him. They cheered him oti and nearly mobbed him. The boy said that he discovered the peculiar gift about two years ago and had made a nuisance of himself about the house with bis imitations of cav alry calls. Willie is fourteen years old and works as an errand boy. A policeman had to escort him off the block. BALLOON VIEW OF COMET. C. J. Glidden Plans Ascension to Pho tograph Hallsy's Discovory. Charles J. Glidden, who has encir cled the world in his automobile and has made 1 >ng distance balloon trips, is confident I hat Halley's comet can be photographed next May from a bal loon. Ascensions are planned in the balloons Massachusetts and Spring field, and Mr. Glidden will have as companions In his car Professor E. C. Bickering of llarvard and other astro nomical authorities. lie believes that some interesting and profitable observations can be made of the comet about May 1 at an elevation of three miles and that excellent photographs, If atmospher ical conditions are favorable, can b* obtained. Excluiiv*. "My ancestors came over In the May flower," said the haughty lady. "Oh, yea," rejoined Mrs. Cumrox, with Interest. "Mine didn't. None of my family ever cared for those big ex cursions."—Washington Star. Hi* Early Home Coming. "Does your husband carry a latch key, Mrs. Homebody?" "No, I never knew him to." "Oh, then he comes In early! That must be due to your training?" "Not In the least. There Is always some one up when he gets home in the morning."—Chicago Record llera Id. ARKELL TRIED TO BUY THE SUN But Failed to Get Control of New York Paper. ROOSEVELT AS THE EDITOR. Former Owner of Judge Said That if He Had Succeeded the Ex-President Might Have Proved a Thorn In th» Side of Wall Street. W. J. Arkell of Canajoharle, N. Y.. former owner of Judge, the humorous weekly, admitted the other night that he had attempted to buy the New York Sun and his hope had been to have Theodore Roosevelt as editor. lie said: "I am disappointed that my negotia tions with the Laffan estate did not succeed. 1 am not sure we should al together have made a hit Mr. ltoose veit. you see, would perhaps have scared tlie financial coteries of Repub licanism in Wall street. Hut 1 think we stmuid have liiul a big thing There Is no doubt people would have wanted to see what Colonel Roosevelt said about things." Expensive Cable Message ta Africa. Humor has it thai the Decollations with Mr. Kooseveit were noaily com plete and that Mr Arkeirs cable mes sages to Africa cost uitn »\ Mr. Arkell laughed whan n-1 !if th it were true. "You can say,' he replied, "that Colo nel ltoosevelt was as-ed, it you liiie. I won't say any more thau that, of course it is obvious the Suu would ho an ideal pulpit for him from which to address the world." Mr. Arkell was asked about a pub lished report that au agreement had been como to with the executors to buy the iuterest of the late \V. M. ijif fau in the Sun for $2,000,000, that a discussion ensued as to the pol icy of the paper would be under its new proprietors and that when it waa learned that Colonel Roosevelt was to have control the sale was declared oil. "That Is not true," declared Mr. Ar kell. "The truth is that 1 got in touch with the Sun people to purchase and offered $2,000,000. They replied they had refused $3,500,000. There our ne gotiations ended. I may try again." The Cows of Muscat. Muscat is famed as the hotbed of smugglers hi the Persian gulf, the nearby desert tribes being regularly supplied with arms despite the efforts of the British patrol. Hut to the writ er, reared on a Missouri farm, the odd antics of the cows of Muscat seemed nothing short of freakish. They actu ally eat fish. No grass grows, so the wily Arab teaches his family cow to subsist on dates and dried fish. The milk tastes queer to a foreigner, which Is probably why the Arab likes it. He also claims it is richer and makes more butter, but most ridicu lous of all Is the deception practiced on cows when the calves are "weau- ed." A calfskin or sometimes a goat skin is stuffed with rags and tied uot far from where the mother cow is an chored. This effigy of her late lament ed offspring soothes her nerves and keeps her from"going dry," according to Arabic tradition. Sau Francisco Chronicle. A Surprised Lion. The man eating lions did uot always get their own way. Five Sikh carpeu ' ters made a staging eight feet high, and on this they fixed their sleeping tent. Each night they ascended by means of a ladder, which they drew up after them They were warned that it was noi high enough, but were content to believe ;',nr Hid was all powerful <>: i ■ i i t left the edge of the ladder projecting beyond the end of ti c A hungry man eater on the prowl observed lids and, thinking he could not find a meal more comvnlenlly elsewhere, deter mined to try how a carpenter tasted. Calculating his spring, be leaped light ly ou to the proje ting ladder, which, unfortunately for ! un, Instantly tipped up and toppled over, both falliug heav ily to the ground. The lion bolted: so did all the men. making for the near est trees.—b'rom "in the Grip of tha Nylka," by Colonel J. 11. I*. Patterson. MOW 3he nuies rum. "Sklnphllnt's wife certainly has re markable success in managing him. I wonder how she does It" "When he undertakes to deny her anything she really wants she threat ens to sue him for divorce." "Does he care so much for her. then 1" "Oh. no. it's not that, but he figures that it is cheaper to let her have her own way than it would be to either defend the suit or pay alimony."--Chi cago Vost. iiSirir! A n.ellal9i* TO SHOP for «M kln4 of Tin ftoofln** •poutlnc IfMi Qtntral Job Work. Stoves, Hoatoro, RanfH, I Fumaooo. oto. I PRICES TUB LOWEST! QUALITY TAB BBST) JOHN IIIXSO V HO. 11# & FEONT ST.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers