The Millheim Journal, PUBLISHED EVERT THURSDAY BY R. A. BUMILLER. Office in the New Journal Building, Penn St., near Hartman's foundry. •1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, OB IF MOT PAID IN ADVANCB. Acceptable Comsponflence Solicited Address letters to MILLHIIM JOURNAL- Chiistmas Bells. O list the joyful sounding bells! What is tue tale their music tells ? 'Tls but the oft-repeated strain First heard on Judah's star lit l>lain. When shepherds, watching flocks by night, Saw round them shine a wondrous light, And trembling heard the angels say: "Fear not—to yon Is horn this day A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord!" The Heavenly host with one accord Joined with the angel, saying, them: "Peace on earth, good will to men!" No messenger in angel guise Comes now before our mortal eyes; Nor evermore In our dull ears Shall souua a voice from Heavenly spheres; Nor need we, like the men of old. Wander to seek with gifts and gold. The babe who iu the manger lay, In David's city faraway! Lu! at our doors he waits to take The gift noue is too poor to make— A heart which will His love receive. And humbly say, "Lord, I believe!" For this—the bells at Christmas ring! "Good tidings of great Joy" they bring! For "whoso' wilrat length may see Htm who once walked In Uallllee! "JSTUG^ET." A CHISTM.YB STORY. nW/Tiss Han ford's little village shop looked uuusually festal just be ' fore Christmas, with its strings of cheap, but brightly painted tin toys, its gay cards, and wonderful display of worstkl work, to say nothing of the ev ergreen bush that adorned the window, hung with a variety of tinsel ornaments that glittered like silver and gold when ever the sun struck them. To-day, however, no flatteriug sunbeam dances that way, for old Sol has hidden his Tace beneath • tamvy ***▼ v%U, wad a thick snow is falling quietly but stead ily, as though it meant business, and Miss Hanford's face is almost as gloom y as the sky overhead, while she match es crewels, and selects needles for pret ty Mrs. Pulsifer, the Doctor's wife.— 'lt will be a white Christmas, after all,' says that cheery little woman, while the materials to complete her husband's slippercase, are being tied up, 'which, they do say, is bad for doc tors.' 4 Yes, 'A green Christmas makes a fat churchyard ;' and no mistake," sighs Miss Hanford. 'Any sort of Christmas makes a fat pocketbook for you. 1 suppose," laughs Mrs. Pulsifer.—''Not this year. The new shop with plate-glass windows, up the street, has cut into my trade sadly ; but thank the Lord, Tom Tucker and I don't need much,' and Miss Hanford patted a big black and white cat dozing on one end of the counter. "It is sort o' lonesome, though, livin' all alone, 'specially about Christmas. Some times I get dreadful blue, and down in the mouth." —"No wonder, poor thing! " rejoins Mrs. Pulsifer, sympa thetically. 'You ought to have my three young rogues ; you'd never have time to be dull, then. But, good-bye ; I mustn't chatter another minute ; all the oddments for the stockings are to be bought yet.' 'That's it!' exclaimed Miss Hanford, as the shop-door shut with a slam. 'That's jest it! I'm an old maid, and ought to be used to !ivin' alone, dear knows ! butfChristmas seems to stir up all the sociable feelin's in my nature, and I'd a'most be willin' to give the trade them plate-glass windows hey left me, to hey a leetle critter to cuddle up, and make just such 'a Christmas' for, as Cy. and I used to hey, when we were youngsters, in the old red farm house. Tom Tucker, why ain't you a baby!' to which pussy only responded by a blink of his green eyes, and purred harder than eyer. 'Tinkle-tinkle!' rang the shop-bell, and two eyes appeared on a level with the counter, surmounted by a shock of shaggy hair, and a shrill voice piped, 'Please, Miss Hanford, ma sent me ov er for a three-cent loaf, and wants to know if you will trust her a few days longer.' The little country store was very mixed in its contents, and kept bread and cake as well as toys and worsted. 'Hey !is that you, Patsey Batt! Tell me, Patsey, my child, how's your poor, sick pa to-day ? 'Very bad ! Ma, she's been up with him all night, and most cried her eyes out.' 'Then you won't hev much of a Christmas to your house, to-morrow ?' 'No ; ma says, Santa Claus sent word be couldn't come this year ;'aDd a big sob choked the child's utterance. 'Poor little critters!' muttered Miss Handford, under whose rather stiff ex terior beat the kindest heart in the world. 'There, you take seed cake ov er to your ma, with my compliments,' and as the tiny girl opened her mouth to express her thanks, she popped in a sugar plum, and laughed heartily at the amazed face that nodded good-bye, and disappeared across the road. 'lt's mighty curious, how queer things are arranged in this world !' so liloquized Miss Hanford ; 'Not that I want to question the ways of Provi dence,* but there is Mrs. Batt, with four youngsters, and not so much as a peppcrmin t-drcp to put in their stock ings ; and here am I, with a lot of knick-knicks gettin' stale on my hands (thanks to them plate-glass windows), and pinin' to make 'a Christmas' for somebody, and not a kith nor kin be longin' to me, that I know of, for if brother Cy. had a ben in the flesh, he'd ft turned up like a bad penny, long be- ifo IPllbetftt. §mti R. A. BUMILLER, Editor. VOL. 59. fore this, surely ! It's a mystery, and no mistake 1' At that moment her eye fell upon a card lying on the top of a pile of paste board souvenirs, ard took it up. It represented a lady and child feeding a flock of robins, and below was printed, 'At Christmas, open wide my heart!' 'That's purty !' said Miss Ilanford. It makes me think of the Christinas sheaf we used to hang out for the birds. They were uo kith nor kin, and if to birds, why not to baits? Yes, I'll do it!' and the happy thought fairly irrad iated the rugged face, even as the gleam of sunlight that just then shone through a rift in the clouds made the tinsel ornaments in the window spakle and glitter like a hundred Christmas candles. The new idea was more hilly developed that evening over Miss Han ford's solitary cup of tea and plate of hot buttered toast in the wee parlor back of the shop, while Tom Tucker sat by, like his namesake, 'singing for his supper' and keeping up a duet with the kettle that hummed aud spluttered on the stove, and to the good woman their song seemed to be, Christ mas comes but once a year. But when it comes It brings good cheer. And when the rush of Christmas Eve business was over, the shutters barred, and the quiet of night had descended upon the little snowbound village, the evergreen was removed from the win dow to the back parlor and made more gorgeous thau eyer with red, white,and blue tapers, cornucopias, and a verita ble St. Nicholas, with reindeer and pack. 'I feel 'most as if I were makin' it for one of my own,' said Miss Hanford, as site surveyed the result of her labors and tried on her nightcap ; there was a happy glow at her heart as she said her prayers aud went to bed, that lasted in to the Christmas dawn and all through out the service in the old, gray, vine covered cbuich, although few had wish ed her the season's greetings and no gift graced her lonely morning board. The overland express from the Pa cific Coast, comes steaming and thund ering along over a wide, snowy expanse of flat country, and draws up with a snort at a desolate little wooden station, standing almost alone in the middle of a great prairie. Eager passengers crowd to doors and windows, glad of anything to break the monatony of their long journey, and the sight that meets their eyes is novel enough to keep tbem there. A group of miners in rough attire, with bronzed faces and unkempt beards, are clustered about a little giil of some eight or nine years, clad in a costume strange to the petlid darling of fashion, but warm and com fortable for that bitter wiuter weather. A gown of coarse scarlet flannel, such as mea's shirts are formed of, and a rudely-fashioned fur coat and cap, made by loving but unskillful fingers. Nothing, however, can mar the win some beauty of the little maid, whose brown eyes aie dewy with tears, as she clings round the neck of one of the men, and holds up her lips, to be kisaed by all the others. 'You will look after my gal, and take her safe,'says the tail man who holds her, with a break in his voice, to the conductor, as he presses a generous fee into his hand. 'And give her the very best of every thing,' puts in auother, while he draws a sleeve across his eyes ; *nothiu\ I reckon, is too good for our Nugget.' 'The luck of the camp will go with her, I'm afraid,' groans another; and then the engine blows the signal for departure, aud amid sob 3 and hand shakes the child is lifted to the plat form and waves farewell, while the group of men shout, 'Give the little 'un a send-off—Hurrah I for the Nugget of Gold Ore Camp 1' and loud cheers a waken the echoes as the conductor en ters the pullman car, leading the wee girl by the hand. The passengers are deeply interested and crowd round, to inquire the history of the new-comer. 'She is not exactly a passenger,' says the gentlemanly offi cial, 'as she is sent by express ; but I can't put her in the express car. There i 3 her label ;' and he pointed to a card tacked on the slePve of the little fur coat, and addressed to : "Miss Hannah Hanford. • Hollywell, j N.Y." I 'That's my aunt I' and I am her Christmas present from Pop. Poppy Sam sa>3, I can get there in time for Santa Claus to fill cny stocking.' 'What is your name, little dear ?' asked sweetfaced Mrs. Farnsworth, drawing the little stranger to a seat he side her.—'Nugget !'—'Nugget ! But that is not a name ; have you no other?' 'Prize Nugget of Gold Ore Gamp 1 That's all, The men gave it to me, 'cause they say, I'm worth my weight lin gold. Neyer had any luck at the mines till 1 came there. Sometimes they call me 'Nug,' for short.' 'What is your father called ; for I suppose, one of these men is your fath er V' MIDLHEIM PA, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 24., 1885. SB 'Tliey are all my Poppies : Poppy Sam, Poppy Jack, Poppy Kit, and Pop py Petei ; but big Pop Cy. is my real true one ; and oh 1 1 don't know what they will do without their Nugget 1' And the bonny little face grew yery so ber at the thought. 'Have you no mother ?' asked Mrs. Farnsworth. 'No. She went to Heaven three years ago, when the partridge berries were ripe, and Pop Kit says, it's a nic er place than even Itedskin Canon.' 'And you have lived with these rough men ever since ?' 'They are not rough !' cried the child, il.ishiiig up in an* instant ; 'they are Nugget's dear, darling Poppies, and I love them, and shall go back to cook for the 'mess,' just as soon as 1 learn to read and write, and keep house like a lady and she burst into a wild Qt of weeping, and was only pacified by many gentle words and a sight of the little curtained berth in the sleeping car, which she was to occupy during her trip. The pain of parting over, however, Nugget became as happy as a lark, and the pet and plaything of all on the train. Her little red gown fluttered up and down the narrow aisle, like some bright tropical biid ; her golden head peered into every crack and corner, and her quaint speeches were a constant fund of amusement, while her brown eyes opened in surprise at all t! e new things she was constantly seeing and bearing, for she was as simple and ig norant, as well as tresh and sweet, as a prairie flower transplanted from West ern wilds. The great cities they pass ed through were a perpetual wonder, and she was ueyer weary of gazing out of the window, until just as they left Chicago, a heavy snow-storm set in, so thick and dense as to shut out all the scene. It was very strange, whirling along through this white mist, and gradually the train moved slower and slower, the engine seeming to have to work its way through deep drifts, until on rising one morniug, the passengers found them selves at rest, and were informed they had come to a stand-still in the dead country, and could go no further until the snow-plows which had been tele graphed for, should come to dig them out. "We should be'in New York to night,"said the conductor,"but it looks very much as though we should spend our Christmas on the road." "Oh! oh! oh!" came a chorus of dis appointed voices. "To-night is Christmas Eve, sure enough!" said Mr. Grundy,a jolly.faced old bachelor, and then looked down to see a dismayed litte face peering up into his. "Well, Nugget, what is it?" "Isn't that the night Santa Claus comes?" "I belieye it is! It's lucky he didn't travel by this train." "But he won't know where to find me/" cried Nugget, in alarm; "lie will never think of looking for me in a snow-bank"— "Sure enough; but I guess Aunt Hannah will tell him you are coming, and have the stocking filled." "No, she won't; for she don't know it A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE herself. I don't b'lieve she knows there's such a little gal as me in the world. Pop said, she didn't." "Well, that's strange; but, never mind, Nugget will bo as merry as she can, even if we are snow bound. I'm going out now, to explore, and may be I'll see a snow-bird, to send a message to Santa Claus by." And the cheery old fellow tramped off, leaving his little friend somewhat comforted. He came back an hour later, with his arms full of pine, laurel, and holly, and the ladies amused themselves in decora ting the parlor cars, hanging wreaths, in the windows,and festooning garlands along the sides,until it was transformed into a perfect green bower. But Nugget was unusually quiet aU day, although shs helped to bunch the 'greens,' and when she had bidden her friends good-night, and was' tucked away in her berth, sobbed herself to sleep, overcome with disappointment and homesickness. "See, isn't that pathetic!" It. was Mrs. Famsworth who spoke, pointing to a little red stocking pinned to the curtain of the child's bed, which she had hung there in the faint hope that the snow-birds might tell St. Nicholas ot her whereabouts, "Can't we till it with something?" asked il/r. Grundy. "I'll drop a bright silver-dollar in the toe." And he suited the action to the word. "They gave me some rosy apples and a few nuts over at yonder farm-houae to-day," said Fred Howell, and they rattled in after the silver. The conductor, who was a Yankee, and handy with the knite, carved some funny little animals out of wood, and a young lady contributed a pretty blue hair-ribbon, while, 10 crown all, Mrs. Farnsworth made her way to the baggage car, and managed to open her trunk, and bring out a beautiful wax doll that she was carrying to her own niece. "I can buy Elbe another, in New York," she said, and fastened the doll to the top of the stocking. Christmas dawned in a flood of sun shine, and the occupants of the second sleeper on the eastward-bound train were awakened at an early hour by glad shouts from section 7, where Nug get was sitting up in her bed, investi gating thetreasres h'dden uin her Santa Claus stocking,and "Merry Christmas!" resounded from behind the curtains on all sides. "He came; the good Santa Claus came, after all!" cried Nugget in wildest glee; "and L am sure, the snow birds sent him and—good news—the conductor told them that the track had been cleared and that they would be off in ten miuutes. So this railroad Christmas was not so bad, after all; for the travelers gath ered together in the pinedecked parlor car, where merry games and sweet carols made the hours fly. Nugget was the gayest of the gay, the blue snood binding her soft yellow hair; and, hug ging her first real doll closely in her arms, never realized that she was an express package, until Ilollywell was reached just after dark. Jtfore sad good-byes had then to be said, and she was turned oyer to the tender care of an expressman, with a covered wagon and pair of prancing horses. The cosy parlor behind Miss Han ford's shop was a vision of comfort and homely cheer on that Christmas night, with the crimson curtains drawn, and a glorious fire crackling merrily on the hearth. And the well-washed faces of the four little Bitts reflected all the brightness as they gathered around the simple Christmas tree twinkling with tiny lights, and made their mouths into round O's with delight. Miss Ilanford bustled about like a motherly old hen, passing doughnuts, filling mugs of sweet cider, and distributing the little gifts of which sue had robbed the store, to gladden the occasion. How the tongues ran! How Tommy Batt beat hi? big drum, and Mat tooted his tin trumpet! How Iletty hid behind the sofa, to read her new fairy book, and how Patsy caressed a coveted doll, with rosp cheeks, wild with delight! while Christmas cheer and charity reigned over all. 'lt is a shame!" exclaimed Mat,as he set down his mug, drained of the last drop; 'every one has a present, except Miss Ilanford; it isn't fair!" 4 lt is enough for me to see you so happy at my little party,' their hostess opened her mouth to say, when she was interrupted by a tremendous knocking at the front door, and hurried off in a flurry, to optn it. There stood a very large man and a very small girl, looking like the big bear and the little bear of the old fairy story, wrapped in thiir fur coats. 'Here, Miss Ilanford, I've brought you a jolly Christmas-box this time, and no mistake,' said the big bear; 'express charges all paid.' •Bless us, and save us!'cried Miss Ilanford, feel'ng for her tpectacles; but the man had disappeared and the little bear was clinging to her skirts and stammering out, 'You're Aunt Han nah, I know, and please, I'm Nugget, from Gold Ore Camp. Pop says, I'm to live with you, and go to school; and here is a paper to tell you all about it.' Three minutes later, 3/iss Ilanford was reading a letter from her long-lost brother Cy., in which he begged her to care for his motherless girl, crying and laughing over Nugget, while she warm ed the child's hands at the fire, and feeling that she was no longer all alone in the world. Now I know why I wanted so to make a Christmas tree.'she thought, as the graceful little figure danced round the evergieen.exclaiming with delight.' It is ever so much prettier than the trees In liedskin Canon, and must have grown in Heaven, I am sure,' while the quartette of Batts sat by in surprised silence. Aud then the quaint little child drew from beneath her scarlet gown an old blue woolen sock that was fastened about lier waist. It was filled with rich gold dust and ore, a gift from 'Cy Ilanford to his dear sister Hannah.' So M'xss Hanford had her Christmas present after all, and said it would more than make up for all she had lost by the new store, while visions of a plate-glass window in her own little shop, danced through her head. It was a perfect evening to all,except Tom Tucker, who considered his nose out of joint, and sang in vain for his supper, until Hettie took compassion i on him and gave him half a doughnut. 'Nugget said, she was 'so glad she Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance. had come In time for a little bit of Christmas, and the lovely tree,' and when at midnight 3/iss II an ford bent oyer the golden head, nestled in the center of her big feather pijlow.she was sure no one 111 Hull) well had so sweet a Christmas-box as her precious little Nugget from Gold Ore Camp. From (lit American Agriculturist. IT IS CHILDREN 'S D&.Y. It is children's day. Heap high the grate and send the sparkles stream ing up the chimney. Let the roaring flame outroar the chilling blast and melt with Christmas warmth the frosty breath of winter. forth in generous store good cheer; fill up the cup to overrunning with wine or joy, let mirth break bounds, and give free reign to all that buoys and lifts the spirits to above the shocks and weights of the experience of other days. Where'er the family takes sanctuary let God's love potir its blessed light in radiance brighter than in other days. Through the wide land may a thousand times ten thousand hearts fires glow on happy faces, and in the genial glow may the world of child-life ring with a music born of happines unwonted. For one day let the better angels of our natures take the harp and make their sweetest melody. Let not one strain be lost nor one discordant note be struck. Let all that may make merry with gift and game, and greting and cheer and kindly deed. One day out of the year is not too much, but all too little to give to joyous ministrations, but however much it may and should be made to be to others, its chief felicity is for young hearts yet unwrung by the cares of life. The green wealth of the Christmas holly and mistletoe harmonizes with the freshness of life's springtime, and every memory and association make this a May-day of young experience. For joy and inno cence are sisters,and they are child hood's angels. The Christmas day can be in its fullness what it should be only as the children's day,and only thus can all its meaning be unlocked to older hearts. Give up the day to childhood, and giving thus receive its richest gifts. Make here a day to hang in memory's halls a pictures ever bright. Euwreathed in ever green, brightenous with smiles of joy, thrilled with the surprises of loving ingenuity, crowned with gifts and tenderness, that is the only Christmas which is illumined by the beams of gladdened eyes and made musical by the silvery chimes of childhood's laughter. Give it to the childrtn, then, and make it all the heaven that heaven-born love can make it. WOMEN- Women always show by their action that they enjoy going to church; men are less demonstrative. When a woman becomes flurried she feels for a fan; when a man becomes flurried he feels for a cigar. Women jump at conclusions and generally hit; men reason things out logically and generally miss it. Some women can't pass a millinery story without looking in; some men can't pasL a saloon without going in. A woman never sees a baby with out wanting to run to it; a man never sees a baby without wanting to run from it. Women love admiration, approba tion, selfimmolaticn on the part of others; are often weak, vain and frivolous. Ditto men. A women always carries her purse in her hand so that other women will see it; a man carries his in his inside pocket so that his wife wont see it. A woman can sit in a theatre for three hours without getting all cramp ed up, catching the toothache or be coming faint for want of fresh air: a man can't. A woman, from her sex and charact er, has a claim to many things beside her shelter, food and clothing. She is not less a woman for being wedded; and the man who is fit to be trusted with a good wife recollects all which this imples and shows himself at all times chivalrous, sweet spoken, con siderate and deferential. CHRONIC CATARRH.—I was troub led witu chronic catarrh and gathering in head, was deaf at times, had dischar ges from the ears, unable to breathe through nose. Before the second bot tle of Ely's Cream Balm was exhausted I was cured.—C. J. Corbin, 923 Chest nut St., Philadelphia. 48-3t NO. 50. NBWBPAFER LAWS If subftei'lbert order tlio discontinuation of newspapers. 1 lie no i mos.ll yea 1 square 12 00 MOO SSOO i600l#S( % -122 }°2P 15 00 # 4" ob 1 " 1000 1500 25 00 45 00 f 75 00 One inch makes a square. Administrators and Executors' Notices S2J. Transient advor iSrUonVnOcSts lieMTne for'each addition al Insertion , New Year la, , Now from every tower and steeple -rl ,i j Clnn„ the bells with a, gladsome sound, Showering down on the hearts of the people The tidings glad ufa year new found. Ktug auray sorrow and |*Un and eare, Demons that brood o'er the lives of men. Let not the sound of a world's despair Fill our hearts with a deeper pain. WW come and greetings: Of new horn year. With thy fair white page on which to write The manifold changes that greet us here, Which our hearts In sorrow or Joy invite. Write them down with a golden pen, Hlcsetngs many and Joys a few. Beek thy thought* from the hearts of men, Who have dared to do right and lived to he true. Bet thy hand to rwires* each wrong, And never falter iu doing right. If to help a fallen comrade along, Or do each duty with all thy might. J Duties will come with every day. Scorn them not if they seem but small. Fvoin God no action Is hid away. And He a recompense ftnd tor ail- So write thy deeds with a golden pen, Write them dowu for the boek of life Write them down in the heart of men, Aud be a hero tn every strife. josisPt[ qoiiDjjvrq's Gt[^|ST^aS. /TT was very strange, thought old /■IF Joseph Guiding, that be couldn't " 1 be master of his own mind. He had lived a great many years, and neither remorse, nor memory had ever been in the habit of disturbing him ; but now it seemed to hi n as if the very foundations of his life were breaking' up. lie woa well through with his day's work—be bad dined comfortably—he sat iu an easy chair in a luxurious drawing-room, whose crimson hang ings shut out the still cold of the De cember afternoon—he had nothing to do but enjoy himself. Mr. Golding liked to enjoy himself at this season as much as others did, for it was Christ mas Eve. What though lie was in the habit of spending it solitarily ?—he liked solitude. For many years on Christmas Eye be had sat balancing in bis mind the great accounts presented in his ledgers, the accumulating coffers at bis bankers, the sti okes of business be would make in future. Not so now. The year was drawing to a close ; some intruding voice kept whispering that in like mau ner so was his career. He could not put it from bim, try as be would. The voice reminded him of a coming time when his life's work would be all done —even as bis day's work was all done now—when be would be leady to Bit down in the evening and look over the balance sheet of his deeds, good and evil. Curiously the old days came trooping in slow procession before him. And he had been able to forget them for so very long I His dead wife. Re had not loved her much when she was with him, but how vivid was his memory of her now I lie could see her moving round the bouse, noiseless as a shadow, never in truding on him after he bad once or twice repulsed her gruffly,but going on her own meek, still ways, with her face growing whiter every day. He began to understand,as he looked back, why her strength had failed ; and she had been ready, when her baby came, to float out on the tide and let it drift her into God's haven. She had bad enough to eat and drink, but he saw now that be had left her heart to starve. Heaven ! what a bard man he had been ! He seemed to see her white, still face, as he looked at it the last time, with the dumb reproach frozen on it; the eyes that would neyer plead yanity any more, closed for ever. He recalled how passionately the three-days-old baby had cried in anoth er room just at that moment, moving all the people gathered together for the funeral with a thrill of pity for the poor little motherless morsel. She teas a passionate, willful baby.all through her baby-hood; he remembered that. She wanted—missed without knowing what the luck was—the love and sustenance which her mother would have given her, and protested against fate with all the might of her infant lungs. But as soon as she grew old enough to under stand how useless it had grown quiet, too ; just like her mother. He recalled her, all through her girlhood,& sby, still girl, always obedient and sub missive, but never drawing very near him. Why ? Because he would have repulsed her repulsed her mother. He could see it now. It was very strange these facts should come back to him to-day. and their naked truth with them. He had beeu a cold, hard, ungenial man, without sympathy for any one human being; absorbed utterly in the pursuit of money-making. And so the child, Amy, had grown up with out him. But suddenly, when she waseighteen, the old,passionate spirit that had made her cry so when a baby must £have awakened agaio, he thought; for she fell in love then, and wished to marry. To marry in defiance of hie wishes. He remembered her standing proudly before him after one of their quarrels, where he had been harsh and bitter,and abusive of the man she wanted to call husband. She had borne in silenoe re proach of herself; but not of him who bad become to her as her best exist ence. Her words came back to the old man now. (Continued on fourth page.)