The Millheiui Journal,
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E. A.BUMILLER.
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BELLEFONTE, PA.,
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Hastings.
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BELLEFONTE, PA.
At the Office of Ex-Judge Hoy.
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Attorney-at-Law
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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VOL. 51).
Fortune's Frowns and
Smiles.
Mis. Bilggs had made a mistake.
She owned as much, herself. And a
mistake must be very patent, indeed,
before Mrs. Briggs would own to it.
For she was one of those high-nosed,
domineering females who pieteiul to
an almost superhuman foresight, and
believe that they can read character as
if it were an open book.
"I never was so disappointed in a
giil in my life," said Mrs. Briggs. "I
thought she had some grit about her.
But, there ! I might as well have an
old dish-rag in my kitchen as Meta Mil
ton 1"
M3ta herself, if the truth were to be
told, was equally disillusionized. She
had fancied that life in the countiy
was all roses,new-mown hay and night
ingales ; an 1 when it came to getting
up before daybreak, churning by the
half-hour iu a blue-mold smelling cel
lar, scrubbing kitchen floors and bak
ing hot-cakes for a tableful ot shirt
sleeved farm hands, she was completely
taken aback.
There were no lanes wherein to lin
ger at dusk (Mr. Briggs was a great
deal too caieful of his land to let any
part of it run to waste), no pictures
que old well-sweeps or ivy-clad ruins.
Cabbages grew in rows ; onion
patches flung their perfume on the air,
and directly in of the main door
there was a fifld of monster tobacco
leaves.
"Aud ef you've got any time to
spare," said Mr. Briggs, "you'd better
lay it out in pickin' them plaguy big
worms off ths terbaoker,instead o' cut
tin' round the country alter wild-flow
eis I"
Meta bad been a shop-girl in a
Bridgeport store Before she came to
hei Cousin Briggs'. Her health had
failed ; the doctor had advised coun
try air, new milk and change of scene.
Mrs. Briggs, on being written to,had
unwillingly consented that Meta should
spend the summer there.
"She must be a poor creetur, indeed,
if she can't earn her board and a little
more into the bargain," said Mrs.
Briggs, who was one of those griping,
grinding taskmistresses who think of
trade and profit alone.
But Meta had not passed triumphant
ly through the ordeal. Perhaps she had
not fully regained her strength. Per
haps she had become discouraged with
the endless treadmill of work which
Mrs. Briggs provided for her.
She was a pale, pretty girl, wilh fair
hair, large, sorrowful blue eyes, and a
color that came and went iwith flickei •
iug brilliance.
"And it's my opinion," said Mrs.
Briggs, who was in the habit of flying
around the house with her head tied up
in a cotton pocket-handkerchief, "that
she spends adeal too much time a-hxin'
up and prinkin' before the glass—white
lace at her neck every day and a ribbon
bow and white aprons of an afternoon.
Checked gingham is good enough for
me, and it ought to her. "
At the end of the first month, Mrs.
Briggs told Meta, with engaging frauk
uess, that she had not proved equal to
the emergency.
"I guess we don't want you here no
more," said Mrs. Briggs. "You ain't
got no more strength than a rabbit,
and, anyway, there ain't no calculation
about you. You may do very well as
a store-girl, but you won't never earn
your bread at general housework."
Meta sighed.
"But what am Ito do ?" said she.
"Where am I to go ?"
"That's your affair," said Mrs.
Briggs.
Aud then she went to take her bread
out of the oyeu.
John Perkins, the nephew of the old
deacon who lived in the brick house on
the hill, and had more money than the
best arithmetician in Yellow Plains
could count, came the next day to drive
Meta and her poor little trunk to the
stage-station.
John had seen Meta at church. lie
had stood beside her more than once
at singing school ; and one night,when
the cattle were obstreperous, he had
come to the rescue, and helped Meta
drive them home.
So, when Farmer Briggs sent over
word that his horse was lame, and ask
ed for the loan of Deacon Perkins' roan
cob to carry Meta Miltonto the station,
John himself had volunteered to act as
charioteer.
"Going away, hey ?" said John, when
they had ridden a short distance in si-
LCUCG
"Yes," said Meta, sadly, "I am go
ing away."
"Didn't like the folks ?" said John.
"I tried to like them," said Meta ;
"but Mrs. Briggs was not suited with
me. The washings were too heavy and
it gave me a pain in the side to lift the
tubs."
"You do look rather slim," observed
John.
MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 4., 1885.
And lie chewed a straw in s.lcnee,for
some time before lie asked with some
abruptness :
"And where are you bound for ?"
4, l don't know," said Mela. "I
can't go back to the store because my
place is tilled up : and it's very liaid
to get work any where at this time of
the year. The doctor said I ought to
stay a year at least i'i the country ; but
Mrs. Briggs has got another girl
and—'*
Here John Perkins suddenly arrested
the course of the roan-cob, and began
turning him scientifically around.
"Dear dear I" said Meta, "have we
got into the wrong ro* d V"
"No," said John Perkins. "Not as
I know of. Hut if the doctor said you
ought to stay a year, then a year you
stay."
"But where ?" said Meta.
"With us l v said John Perkins.
"I've took a notion to you,Meta. The
first time I ever set eyes on you, I said
to myself, 'Here's the gal for me 1'
And if you'll marry me, Meta, I'll do
my best to take care of you and be a
good husband to you."
"Marry you J" repeated Met*, and
she looked timidly into John Perkins'
honest gray eyes, and then she added :
"Yes, Mr. Perkins, I will 1"
"Shall we go right to the parson's ?"
said Jonn.
"I—l suppose so," said Meta.
"It's the best way," said John. "If
I begin a job, I generally like to go on
with it."
So they were married. Meta went
back to Mr. Briggs' f bouse, until her
young nusband could break the news
to his uncle. Jirs. Briggs received the
bride with some faint semblance of
welcome.
"John Perkins is a likely fellow,"
said she, "and the deacon is the richest
man in Yellow Plains. I will allow,
Meta, ill at you haven't done badly for
yourself. If you'd told me what you
was calculatiu' for—"
"But I was not calculating," said
Meta, indignantly. "I nevei thought
of such a thing, until John asked me
to be his wife."
"That'll do to tell," said Mrs. Briggs
with a dry chuckle.
Meanwhile, John went bravely to his
uncle.
"Uncle," said he, "I guess you'll
have to spare me a bigger room arter
this.
Deacon Perkins, adriod-up, withered
old man, with a strong likeness to the
chimpanzee tribe, looked up from bis
account-book with a snarl, which re
yealed a set of ragged, yellow teeth.
"A bigger room ? m said he. "What
for V"
"There's at least a dozen rooms in
the house you don't use," said John,
"and they'd be all the better for being
occupied ; and besides"—as if this
was a mere incidental fact—"l've been
getting married 1"
The deacon dropped his spectacle
case, and as John picked it up and
handed it back to him, he added :
"To Meta Milton."
The deacon's little eyes glittered like
very small gas-lamps, seen through a
November fog.
"You ; ve married her, have you V
said he.
"Yes, sir," said John.
"Well then," said the deacon, "you
can take her somewhere else and sup
port her, for I'll never see nor speak
to either one of you again as long as I
live !"
"Do you really mean it,uncle ?" said
John.
"Am I in the habit of joking ?" said
Mr, Perkins, with an ugly grin, that
made him more chimpanzee-like than
ever. "If you're so very independent,
you can go and hang out your flag of
freedom at your leisure I"
This was rather hard on John, who
had always been taught to regard him
self as his uncle's adopted child.
But he was too proud to sue for a
rich man's favor.
4 'Just as you please, sir," said lie.
"But won't you let me bring Meta to
see you V"
"No, I won't !" said the deacon.
"Oh, John, I have ruined you I" said
Meta. when he came back to tell the
tale.
"Ruined me, puss ?" said lie cheer
fully-"not a bit of it 1 You've been
the making of rqe. It ain't good for
nobody to hang on the coat-skirts of a
rich man. I'm more independent now
that I have been for ten years. If Mrs.
Briggs will let us stay here for a few
days—"
"I couldn't, possibly I" said Mrs.
Briggs,freezing visibly. "If your good
pious uucle discountenances you, it
ain't for me to set myself up ag'in his
judgement."
"Yery well," said John ; "Farmer
Drake wants a hand to help clear up
the maple hills this winter—l'll engage
with him. My Meta shall have a good
home somewhere 1"
When Mrs. Briggs heard that John
■ Perkins had rented the little one-stor-
A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE
ied cabin by the railroad,and furnished
it for his bride, 3ho shook hor head
forebodingly.
"If Meta can put up with a hole like
that, she hain't no proper pride," said
she.
But Meta was as happy as a lark.
It was a humble home, but it was
her own. And John came home to it
every night, with a face as cheerful as
the dawn.
"I wish it was a palace, puss, for
your sake," said he.
"1 couldn't be happier, John, i! it
was," Meta brightly answered.
44 And you dou't mind your Cousin
Biigg passing you in the street, with
out speaking to you V"
"Not in the least, if you don't mind
Deacon Perkins returning your letters
unopened."
"He is an ill-tempered old crab,"
said John, with a hearty laugh.
"And she," merrily retorted Meta,
"is a venomous old gossip."
While the public opinion of Yellow
Plains unanimously condemued Mr.
and Mrs. Perkins to the poor-house in
the course of a brief time.
"He liasu't a cent of capital," suid
one neighbor.
"And she ain't no management and
never had," said auother.
44 Buys baker's breau, and makes her
pie-crust with butter instead o' diip
pin's," said Mrs. Briggs. "Did any
one ever hear of such shiftlessness ? I,
for one, wash my hands ot them."
Until, one day. Deacon Perkins died
sitting in tiis chair, with his spectacles
on his nose.
"We'll go to the funeral, Meta,"said
John to his wife. "Of course lie has
left all his money to the Gatawooche
Ind ; an Jfission, as he always said he
would. But ho was fmy uucle, after
all."
44 Very well," said Jfeta. 44 We'll
go."
All the neighborhood was there, of
course. The richest man in Yellow
Plains did not depart this life every
day. But every one looked coldly upon
the youug couple as they entered, and
Jfrs. Briggs studiously evaded .them.
When the burial ceremonies were o
ver, Mr. Briggs sidled up to the lawyer,
a fat man, with a shining bald head
and a white moustache.
"It's about the mortgage, Squire
Coyte," said he. "That one that Dea
con Perkins had on our farm. I do
hope the Gattawoochee Indians won't
he particular about takin'it up jest yet,
because times is hard, and I ain't no
ways prepared. The interest is a little
behind to be sure, but—"
"What have the Gattawoochee In
dians got to do with it ?" 3aid the
squire, crisply.
"Why, they're the heirs, folks tell
me," said Mr. Briggs, uneasily twirl
ing his thumbs.
"Not at all," said Mr. Coyte. "The
Gattawoochee Indian will was destroy
ed long ag- ; and Mr. Perkins never
made another. The heir to all the
property is the next of kin,his nephew.
John Perkins."
Public opinion changed as quickly
as only public opinion can do, when
this piece of news became bruited a
broad.
Every body discovered all of _a sud
den that they had always! sympathized
with the dear young couple—that John
Perkins was a noble fellow, and his
wife .Meta one of tne salt of the earth.
And Jfrs. Briggs came humbly to
the redbrick mansion on the hill to see
Jfeta, and beg her to intercede with
her husband in their behalf.
"About the mortgage," said she,
"that Deacou Perkins had on our farm.
It's over-due, and Briggs hasn't been
as regular with the interest as I could
have wished ; but Ido hope, 3/eta, he
won't be hard with us I"
It was a bitter pill for 3/rs. Briggs
to swallow, but Me ta did not exalt o
ver her fallen foe.
"Of course he will not be hard with
you, Cousin Briggs," said she, kindly.
"Are we not relations ? And now you
ftiust sit down and have a enp of tea
with us, and John will send the box
wagon down for your husband to come
and spend the evening."
The tears came into Mrs. Briggs'
eye 3.
"I do feel sort o' faint," said she.
•'I never slept none last night, thiukin'
what would become of us if the old
home was jtook away. But I'm all
right now, Me ta, thanks to you I"
And she said, when she got home to
her fireside :
"If ever coals of fire was heaped on
a human head, Me ta Perkins heaped
'em on mine this day."
"She's a good gal," said Farmer
Briggs—"a good gal I"
The love and affection that exists be
tween brothers frequently begins to ex
ist when they are mero children.
'Will Tommy always be younger than
I am V asked a little Texas boy of his
mother.
'Yes, sonnv.'
'That's bully. I'll always be able to
lick him and take his things away from
him as long as he lives.'— Siftinys.
Paid in His Own Coin.
William Rosea Ballon narrates in the
Chicago Saturday Ecnxiny ll< raid the
following romantic story: In the north
ern limits of the City of New York is
a colossal apartment house,whose spac
ious flats are occupied by many wealthy
people. In one of th?se largo and roomy
suits resides a widow, whose twenty
tiye millions certainly entitle her to
recognition in the "Herald" list of the
lady millionaires of the metropolis, re
cently published. Dearer to than
her vast possessions is a loyely daughter,
gifted with all the wealth of refinement,
graces and culture that study, travel
and contact can bestow. Not many
years ago,a Russian noble was appoint
ed to an important diplomatic mission
to Washington. He met the fair A
tueriean, then just budding into wo
manhood, and a case of love at first
sight transpired. In the first bliss of
courtship the noble followed the travels
of the family around the world,exhibit
ing his deep devotion before the gaze
of all nations. Far up iu the Alps, the
widow received an alarming dispatch
from New York, disclosing a theft by
agent, his flight, and her possible pov
erty. The Russian was consulted. In
stead oi offering advice and assistance,
he congealed into Russian frigidity.
4 I think,' he said to his lady love,
'that as your status has not continued
as Ijfouiid it, we had better part.'
The lady did not reply. She turned
her back upon him.
The widowed lady and her daughter
hastened to America, and fouud affairs
in a mixed condition,but easy of repair.
They spent six months in the West,
looking after their estates,and as much
morejtime iu the East repairing their
fortunes, so that in one year's time all
of this former glory was restored. Not
long thereafter his Russian highness
was sent to this country, as Envoy Ex
traordinary. Ye paused in .New YOrk
to rest before proceeding to Washing
ton, and met a cousin of his former
love.
'By the way,' said the cousin, 'speak
ing of the way shattered fortunes are
repaired in America, there is the case
of a member of our family, Mrs X. She
had most of her property stolen and the
rest left in a bad' Condition, but iu one
year's time she lias caught aud punish
ed the thief, recovered all her poses
sions, and is now better off than ever.'
'Where do they reside ?' asked the
suddenly interested noble.
'At the Y fiats. But whj do you
ask V
'Oh, I am going there to tell the A
merican girl 1 will marry her at once.'
That evening an elegant coach drove
into the rotunda of the Y flats. A
gentleman in evening court dress, dec
orated in medals and ribbons denoting
his many orders, ascended the elevator
immediately following a card bearing
the title : "Envoy Extraordinary and
Minister Plenipotentiary to the United
States cf America."
Miss X was seated alone in the draw
ing room. To the eager Russian she
had never worn such loveliness, such
stately demeanor. She arose as he bow
ed to the floor and endeavored to kiss
her hand. lie fell on his knees and
caught the hem of her skirts.
'Forgive me, ray dear.' he
'I was not aware ot the remarkable
changes in the American life. Be my
adored wife and you shall never again
have cause to doubt me.''
She regarded him coldly a moment
and then turned her back toward him,
as upon a previous occasion. 'I think,'
she said, adopting his own language,
'that since your status has not contin
ued a9 I tound it, we had better part.'
Preacher Davies and King George.
When president of Princetown col
lege, Samuel Davies visited England
for the purpose of obtaining donations
for the institution, the king (George
II,) had a curiosity to hear a preacher
from 'the wilds of America.' He ac
cordingly attended, and was so much
struck with his commanding eloquence
that he expressed his astonishment
loud enough to be heard half way o
ver the house, in such terms as these ;
'He"is a wonderful man !' 'Why, he
beats my bishop !' etc. Davies ob
serving that the king was attracting
more attention than himself, paused,
and, looking his majesty in the face,
gave him, in an emphatic tone, the
following beautiful rebuke : 'When
the lion roareth, let the beasts of the
forest tremble; and when the Lord
speaketh, let the kings of the earth
keep silent.' The king instantly
shrank back in his seat, like a school
boy who had been rapped on the head
by his master,and remained quiet dur
ing the remainder of the sermon. The
next day the monarch sent for him,
and gave him fifty guineas for the in
stitution over which he presided, ob
serving at the same time to his court
iers : 'He is an honest man—an hon
est man.'
Terras, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
HOW GREELY WAS FOIYD.
The story of the relief expedition sent
out by the United States in search of
Lieutenant Greely and his party, ice
im in Hied in the Arctic regions, is full
of interest. Particularly pathetic is
this account of how a search party
from the relief vessels came across the
seven survivors :
At last the boat arrived at the site of
the wreck-cache, and the shore was
eagerly scanned, but nothing could be
seen. Hounding the next point, the
cutter opened out the cove beyond.
There on the top of a little ridge, fifty
or sxtyJyards above the ice-foot, was
plainly outlined the figure of a man.
Instautly the coxswain caught up the
boat hook and waved liis flag. The
man on the ridge had seen them, for he
stopped, picked up the signal flag from
the rock, and waved it in reply. Then
he was seen coming slowly and cau
tiously down the steep rocky slope.
Twice he fell down before he readied
the foot. As he approached .still walk
ing feebly and with difficulty, Co'well
hailed him from the bow of the boat:
'Who all are there left ?'
'Seven left.'
As the cutter struck the ice, Colwell
jumped off uud went up to him. lie
was a ghastly sight, iiis cheeks were
hollow,his eyes wild, his hair and beard
long and matted. liis army blouse,
covering .several thicknesses of shirts
and jackets, was ragged and dirty. He
wore a little fur cap and rough racc
cassins of untanned leather tied around
the legs. As he spoke, his utterance
was thick and mumbling andjin his ag
itation his jaws worked in convulsive
twitches. As the two met, the man,
with a sudden impulse, took off his
glove and shook Colwell's hand.
'Where are they ?' asked Colwell
briefly.
'ln the tent,'said the man, pointing
over his shoulder, 'over the hill—the
tent is down.'
'ls Mr. Greely alive ?'
'Yes, Greely's alive.'
'Any other officers ?'
'No.' Then he repeated absently,
'The tent is down.'
'Who are you V
'Long.'
Before this colloquy was over, Lowe
and Norman had staited up the hill.
Hastily filling his pockets with bread,
and taking the two cans of pemmican
Colwell told the cockswain to take
Long into the cutter, and started after
the others with Ash. Beaching the
crest of the ridge, and looking south
ward, they saw spread out before them
a desolate expanse of rocky ground,
sloping gradually from a ridge on the
east to the ice-covered shore, which at
the west made'in and formed a coye.
Back of the level space was a range of
hills rising up 800 feet, with a precip
itous face, broken in two by a gorge,
through which the wind was blowing
furiously. On a little elevation direct
ly in front was the tent. Hurrying a
cross tlie interyening hollow, Colwell
came up with Lowe and Norman, just
as they were greeting a soldierly look
ing man who had just come out from
the tent.
As Colwell approached, Norman was
saying to the man:
'There's the lieutenant.'
And he added to Colwell:
'This is Sergeant'Lralnard.'
Brainard immediately drew himself
up to the 'position of a soldier,' aud
was about to salute,"when Colwell took
his hand.
At this moment there was a confused
murmur within the tent, and a jvoice
said .*
'Who's there V
Norman answered: 'lt is Norman —
Norman who was in the Proteus.'
This ;was followed by cries of 'Oh,
it's Norman 1' and a sound like a fee
ble cheer.
Meanwhile one of the relief party,
who in his agitation and excitement
was crying like a child, was down on
his hands and knees trying to roll away
the stones that held down the flapping
tent cloth. The tent was a 'tepik' or
wigwam tent, with a fly attached. The
fly with its posts and ridge-pole had
been wrecked by the gale which had
been blowing for thirty-six hours, and
the pole of the tepik was toppling over,
and only kept in plase by the guy
ropes. There was no entrance except
under the flap opening, which was held
down by stones. Colwell called for a
knife, cut a slit in the tent cover and
looked in.
It was a sight of horror. On one side,
close to the opening, with his head to
ward the.outside, lay what was appa
rently a dead man. His jaw had drop
ped, his eyes were open, but fixed and
glassy, his limbs were motionless. On
the opposite side was a|poor!fellow,alive
to be sure, but without hands or feet,
and with a spoon tied to the stump of
his right arm. Two others, seated on
the giound in the middle, had just got
down a rubber bottle that hung on the
tent pole, and were pouring from it in
to a tin can. Directly opposite, on his
hands aud knees, was a dark man with
a long matted beard, in a dirty and tat
tered dressing gown with a little red
skull cap on his head, brilliant,
NO. 22.
•JJEWBEAPER LAWS
It mibwribors order tin* discontinuation of
newspapers ilt nonilshoi* may continue to
si'ixl ihi'iu until all arrearages are paid.
if HUbrtortlH'Vß refuse or nwelect lo lake their
new spa per.* from Ihe ofliee I o which they are sent
lhe> are held respons|i4o iinti}Ho > havese<Ued
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staring eyes. As Colwell appeared, he
raised himself a little and put on a pair
of eye-glasses.
'Who are you ?' asked Colwell.
The man made no answer, staring at
him vacantly.
'Who are you V again.
One of the men spoke up; 'That's the
Major—Major Greely.'
Colwell crawled in and took him by
the hand, saying to him, 'Greely is this
you ?'
'Yes,'' said Greely in a faint, broken
voice, hesitating and shuffling with his
words, 'Yes—seven of us left—here we
are—dying—like men. Did what I
came to do—beat the best record.'
Then he fell back exhausted.
Then Be Sat Down.
They tell a story of Congressman
Finerty's experience at a small town
in the south of Illinois, where he had
been invited to speak 'fdi the cause.'
When the audience was assembled, the
Congressman was to be introduced by
a prominent resident, a gentleman in
an archaic tail coat, who had but im
perfectly caught the name of the orator
and was a little deaf.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' said the
chairman, hoarsely, *1 will now have
the honor of introducing to you, and
you will have the pleasure of listening
to the talented Irish orator whose name
is so familiar to the Irishmen of the
West—Mistber Eiunegan !'
Here the chairman felt a pull at his
capacious coat-tail, and heard an awful
yoice whisper, 4 Finerty ! Not Finnegan
—Finertv I'
'Eh ? What's that ? Oh, yes I Ye
see, I forgot! Ladies and gentlemen 1
made a mistake. The talented young
orator who is about to address us, and
with whose name we are all familiar
Is Mistlier Flaherty!'
Once again the warning pull at his
coat-tail, and a voice like a cyclone,
struggling to keep itself under control,
hissed, 'Finerty 1 Finerty 1 !'
The chairman turned as many colors
as a school of dying dolphins, while
great drops of perspiration bedewed his
forehead.
'Ladies and gentlemen, ye will now
have the pleasure of listening to the
brilliant young orator, whose name is a
household word among us—Misther
Fitzjjjarrld I*
Aud he sat down, leaving the brill
iant young orator to address an audi
ence to which he had been introduced
by almost eyery name but his own.
■
Grant and the Kentucky Ladies.
The Kentucky women are as enthus
iastic about horses as the men. They
unhesitatingly place the horses before
themselves as the great attractions of
the state. I remember hearing a conver*
sation between General Grant and a
Kentucay girl at the St. Louis Mer
chants' Exchange in 1875, when Presi
dent Grant was visiting the St. Louis
fair. A number of ladies were intro
duced to the President, whereupon he
spoke in very high terms of St. Louis,
the fair, &c. "You aie mistaken, Mr.
President—we are not from St.Louis,"
laughingly said oue of the girl, "we are
from Kentucky, a very fine state, you
know, which possesses three things ail
men of taste must appreciate." Smil -
ingly, the President asked her what
they were. She answered : "We have
the fastest horses, the prettiest women
and the finest wuisky in the world."
The President replied : "Your tnrses
are certainly justly renowned ; I have
some on my farm near here ; yourself
and party prove the correctness of your
pecond observation, but whiskey is one
of the things that require age, and
your men consume it so fast that it
rarely has a fair chance to become
good." The girls thought that if Gen
eral Grant could not make a long
speech he was apt at repartee.
She Had Pound Him.
A pretty young mamma, with a little
girl by her side nearly as pretty as her
self, was being entertained by a male
stranger, who had struck up an ac
quaintance through the usual and al
ways convenient mediumship cf the lit
tle girl girl. The stranger did all the
talking. He was one of these men who
thiuk they know everything, but only
rarely get a good chance to tell it. The
lady answered only in monosyllables.
The little girl listened patiently and
demurely for a time, and then began to
fidget around in her seat, Fiually, as
the stranger stopped for breath, she
said.
"Mamma, you've found one, ain't
you V"
"What, my dear ?"
'Why, don't you remember what you
told papa when he said you'd be lone
some on the cars ? You said you'd
find some bore to talk you to sleep."
Mamma looked out of the window
and the stranger suddenly thought he
had better go into the smoking car to
find bis friend.
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