Bieworvaic: Wada,
Bellefonte, Pa., October 10, 1902.
JOHNNIE'S CHECKER STORY.
Paw he got th’ checkerboard,
An, says “Now come here, son,
We'll spread th’ pieces on th’ squares
An’ show you how it's done.”
So I set down, an’ he moved first,
*Nen I give him a man.
‘Nen he jumped me, an’ chuckled out,
“Just beat me ef you can.”
'Nen I moved one, an’ he took that,
An’ said not to feel sore,
Jest then I seen a zigzig line,
'Nen jumped—an’ I took four!
My paw—he rubbed his chin, an’ thought,
An’ says, “Um-m-m, lemme see !”’
An’ when he moved, I saw my jump,
An’ that time ” took thee.
’Nen pa he moved another man,
An’ hitched up to the board,
1 took that, too, while maw looked on,
An’ maw—say, she jest roared !
’Nen paw—th’ king-row’s where he wants
To get; like anything, y
Bui fore he knows where I am at,
I says, “Paw, crown that king.
’Nen I jest moved the way they do
Down there at Griggses store
An’ first thing paw knows, he ain’t got
No checkers any more.
*Nen paw gits up, an’ slams the board !
I can’t say what he said—
*Twas somepin’ ‘bout ‘smart Aleck kids.”
'Nen he sent me to bed
—W. D. Nesbit.
THE SAVING OF THE BOY.
The two men met at the door of Evelyn
Starrett’s apartment, the Boy having ascend-
ed by means of the elevator, while the El-
der Brother had mounted the stairs. They
delayed,by a common impulse, the ringing
of the bell.
‘Do me a favor,old fellow,’’ said the Boy
at last, hesitatingly. ‘Don’t call upon
Evelyn just now, will you? I've—I’'vegot
something particular to say to her.’
““You’re not going to borrow money from
her—again ?"’and the Elder Brother's voice
was sharp with contempt and vexation.
*‘It’s a bad business, Boy, this getting mon-
ey from one woman to spend on another.”
“I'm not ‘getting money from one wom-
an to spend on another,’ retorted the Boy,
his face flushed with indignation,almost as
effective as though it bad been righteous.
“I'm only going to borrow a few dollars
from an old friend to help me over a tem-
porary embarrassment,and to—"
‘To spend on another woman,as I said,’’
the Eider Brother broke in, disdainfally.
‘And I say it again, Boy, it's a had busi-
ness.”
‘It’s my business,’’ responded the Boy,
his eyes hard as adamant. ‘‘You mind
your own.”’
And he pressed, with impatient sharpness,
the electric button on the door.
The Elder Brother, after half a moment
of angry cogitation went down stairs slow-
ly. Evelyn would undoubtedly lend the
young rascal the money, in any case; his
presence would only make matters unnec-
.essarily unpleasant for her, and the Elder
Brother adhered to the old-fashioned chiv-
alric principle that women and unpleasant-
nesses of every kind should be kept as far
apart as possible. So he retreated, albeit
reluctantly,and left the Boy a clear field
for his efforts.
It was a luxurious little apartment into
which the Boy was presently admitted,soft
ly lighted, daintily furnished. full of de-
lightful things of many kinds. Evelyn
Starrett, although she worked like a Puri-
tan, lived like a Sybarite—nowadays. Her
physical environments were as luxurious
and as ease-giving as her moral and spirit-
ual atmosphere was cool and rarefied. Bub
the lux y besides gratifying the artistic,
pleasure-loving side ofher nature,served in
the additional and unwonted capacity of a
hair shirt. It kept the wearer perpetually
humble to be perpetually reminded,in this
time of prosperity, of the far different pe-
riod which nad preceeded it.
‘‘I shall never become conceited while I
have all these pretty things about me,’’she
had told a dear friend once,smiling, but in
serious earnest. ‘‘They remind me so in-
evitably of how much more has been grant
ed to me than to better women.”’
‘‘Better women,’’ to Evelyn Starrett,
meant simply one woman—Helen Disburt.
She was thinking of Helen now, when the
the door of her parlor opened to provide en
trance for the Boy. The Boy was a solemn
- charge from this same Helen, the tingle in-
"heritance which Evelyn had received from
her vanished sister-friend.
The Boy came in easily,so easily that he
almost swaggered. Evelyn, seeing at a glance
that he was upset and excited, tonched the
bell for her maid.
‘‘Serve coffee immediately,”” was her
quiet direction.
Then, when the large delicately tinted cups
of egg-shell china had been filled with the
perfect,steaming beverage, she leaned back
in her low chair,companionably, and invit-
ed the Boy,already soothed and quieted, to
unburden his soul. It needed but a few
moments to learn all that oppressed him.
The Boy was in love—for the sixtieth
time, perhaps, in his eight or nine years of
adult existence. The more serious phase
‘of the Somplication was presented by his
‘evident belief that the object of his present
adoration loved him. A mother’s darling
in his cradle,the Boy had been a woman’s
darling all his life long,and he would soon
be twenty-seven. All women, ,bad and
indifferent,loved and adored the Boy,some-
how—the Boy who,in tarn,loved all wom-
en in general, and large numbers of them,
one after another,in particular. Good wom-
en the Boy reverenced mightily, and from
the bottom of his heart. Women not so
good frequently possessed for him a fascina-
tion which, at seven-and-twenty,he should
certainly have outgrown. It was the knowl-
édge of this fact, as well as the concomi-
tant certainty, that he would lose bis head
as well as his heart in such cases, which
caused all his real friends to be anxious
concerning the Boy and his perennial love-
affairs.
‘1s she a pretty woman ?’’asked Evelyn,
when, the second cup of coffee was disposed
of,he had told all he knew—and much that
he did not know,as yet—concerning his la-
test inamorata, with the exception of her
name.
_ “Wonderfully prety. Beautiful to fas-
_cination,’’ answered the Boy, his enthusi-
"asm kindling. :
“ Nice ?”’ and the faintest shade of anxiety
struggled against repression in his tone.
“Very nice,”’ with a touch of dignity and
hauteur.
‘‘Is she—a good woman ?’’
‘*All. women are good, in one'way or an-
other, are they not?’’ counter-questioned
the Boy, with a blush and an accent that
taught Evelyn the real character of the oth
er woman in a moment. She said no more,
however, having long since learned the fu-
tility of even the wisest speech under such
circumstances. But she sighed nervously,
when, the Boy having bidden her good-
night and gone off to buy roses for that
other woman, whom heaverred he had prom
ised to take to dinner and the play, she
changed her gown for the evening.
“I wonder who it-is. I do hope he’s
not going to get into any nasty scrape just
now,’’ she pondered.
She was not at all surprised,dinner, over
to hear the Elder Brother inquiring if she
would receive him.
The Elder Brother was big and blonde
and fresh-colored. The sarcasm of Fate
was quietly apparent in the roseate, florid
complexion, which perpetually earned for
him the suspicion, if no more, of sharing
old Omar’s predilection for the wine-cup.
The Elder Brother, who never touched any-
thing stronger than coffee, and who was
clean from lips to spiritual fibre, looked as
though the world, the flesh, and the devil
might lay firm hold upon him occasionally
The Boy, by no means so abstemious or so
particalar, was pale and ascetic in appear-
ance—all but the Apollo mouth and the
big, langhter-loving eyes. And the Elder
Brother, for all his big heart, and his. good-
ness, had never called forth, from the soul
of any human being, one single iota of the
passionate adoration so freely lavished upon
the Boy, careless,conscienceless, apparently,
as he was. There are queer ebbs and tides
to the development of buman character,and
the Elder Brother had become a little cyn-
ical,absorbing all this. But the Boy wasa
sacred charge with him,alsu, and one glance
at his anxious face told Evel yn, this even-
ing, that the Boy ‘was indeed in danger.
“Who is it now?” she inquired, anx-
iously, when the Elder Brother had been
duly served with the fragrant coffee which
he also loved dearly.
*‘Mrs. Brankinthorpe this time,”” an-
swered the Elder Brother,all contempt and
indignation. ‘‘She’s got him hooked fast,
apparently, and he'll ruin his chances for
good if he gets tangled up with her just
now.’’
For Mrs. Brankinthorpe, a notorious
charmer of none too dazzling reputation,
had already worked disaster to a number
of promising young men. And the Boy
having just been pulled and pushed and,
coaxed and encouraged through his last
term at medical college was now waiting,
with easy grase and what patience his friends
could muster, for the beginning of the pro-
fessional career which was to presently
make him famous.
Evelyn’s delicate eyebrows drew near to-
gether as she considered these circumstan-
ces.
‘He musn’s be allowed to ruin his chances
es,’ she said, presently. ‘‘We must get
him out of it somehow, old friend.
“‘Get him out of it yes,”’ exclaimed the
Elder Brother rising to pace the small
chamber impatiently. ‘‘We’re always get-
ting him out of difficulties, Evelyn, and I,
for one, am pretty sick of so doing. Scarce-
ly a month passes but we must manoeuvre
in some way to assist him, and what do we
get for it all ? Scarcely a bare ‘Thank you’
from one year’s end to another. He’s quick
enough to say ‘Mind your own business,’
with a bitter recollection of the oft-repeat-
ed scene of the earlier evening, when ev-
erything’s going well with him; but he
sings a different song when Fate begins to
exact a little diséomfort in payment for
his perpetual wrong-doing. I’m sick to
death of playing caretaker to a grown-up
baby, Evelyn, and I'm almost ready to say
I’ve done my last in that line."’
‘Oh, but you won't say it,”’and Evelyn’s
voice was athrill with sympathetic anxiety:
‘‘you’ye never deserted a friend yet in all
the years I've known yom, and certainly
this isn’t the time to think of deserting
the Boy. We must work together a little
longer,’’ beckoning him persuasively back
to his easy-chair, ‘‘and we’ll bring him out
splendidly in the end, I'm certain. The
Boy has such fine possibilities, and—’
‘‘Fine possibilities, yes,’’ repeated the EI-
der Brother as she hesitated a little, ‘‘but
what else? Oh,I think as much of him as
you do,”’ obeying her gesture with min-
gled impatience and resignation, ‘but I’m
beginning to wonder if all our trouble is
worth while. Twenty-seven years old in a
week or two, and not able to stand alone,
apparently, for a moment. Full +f all sorts
of high aspirations one evening; ready to
move the world while you wait. The next,
a silly woman waves her hand to him, and
it’s all up until she’s ready to throw him
over. Sometimes I think we’d do better
to let go of him entirely, and see if a little
bit of roughing it unassisted wouldn't
bring him to his senses.”
‘*But, meanwhile,” coaxed Evelyn,
‘‘he’ll ruin all his chances, as you say, all
the chances we've worked so hard to give
him. And where, old comrade, would be
the wisdom of such a proceeding as that ?”’
‘“There’s not much use in trying to push
a man up hill if he’s determined to slide
down it,”’ answered the Elder Brother dog-
gedly. ‘‘Almost twenty-seven, Evelyn,and
you and I and Helen bave held him up ev-
er since I can remember, almost. Since
Helen went, you and I have tried harder
than ever. Affection, enconragement,sup-
port, financial assistance, opportunity, ev-
erything,we’ve provided him in abundance.
Yes, I will say it this once, anyway, you as
well as I. We’ve made sacrifice after sac-
rifice that he might be well started. And
now, at twenty-seven, he seems just about
as near to being well started as he did
twenty-seven years ago. This last affair
disgusts me more than anything he has ev-
er done. Mrs. Brapkinthorpe’s affairs are
80 hopeless. A man can’t fight with a wom-
an, There's nothing you can do, and by
the time she’s ready’ to say" good-bye to
bim he’ll be done for, préfessionally, with a
vengeance. If you can see any way ous of
the situation, it’s more than I can.
“Some other woman muss charm him,and
charm him more enduringly,’”’ said Eve-
lyn, after a moment or two of silence, and
with the quizzical smile which always
amused her companion. ‘‘One nail drives
out another, you know,especially in regard
to the Boy’s love-affairs, and something
tells me his allegiance to Mrs. Brankin-
thorpe will be but fleeting. Perhaps he’ll
discover that she paints or uses perfume on
her handkerchief soon enough to prevent
any serious trouble. And if not—’’
**We musin’t give him up, after all our
trying,’’ she went on,in earnest response to
the Elder Brother's impatient ehrag of the
shoulders. ‘‘I know he'll come out ail
right in the end,comrade. Perbaps this is
the very last of his difficulties. At all
events, we must make allowances for him,
mustn’t we, just as we’ve always done, just
as we would do if he were blind or deaf or
crippled ? He really can’t help being the
Boy,can he? He’ll never be anybody but
the Boy, even if he lives to be a hundred.
. And, meanwhile, we must look after him—
until he léarns to look after himself, some-
how or other—just as we’ve always done.
him from a bad situation, will it?
“No; and I’m afraid it won’t. be the
last,”’ fretted the Elder Brother, still dis-
‘gruntled. Then, ashamed of having been
betrayed into an ill temper in her presence
he bade her good-night.
This won’t be the first time we've rescued .
‘Don’t worry,” they told each other,
bravely,at parting. ‘‘Don’t worry. It will
come out all right,somebow,’”’ but Evelyn
was much more sure of it than the Elder
Brother. The heart of the latter was de-
cidedly heavy,and altogether on the Boy’s
account,as he went down the stairs. Years
ago,although she had never dreamed it, he
bad loved Evelyn deeply; he loved her
still, although the hope that sweetens love
had died long ago. And years ago,although
she never so much as admitted it, even to
her most intimate self-consciousness. Eve-
lyn had loved him. Her love for the Boy
had not always been quite as disinterested
and impersonal as she now believed it—not
in the beginning. Most of it had been
given for his own and Helen’ssake,but not
all.
Helen bad been the only sister of the El-
der Brother and the Boy, mother-sister to
them, really, since the three were lonely or-
phans, practically unfriended from the Boy’s
earliest infancy. And Helen had regarded
her two brothers as did everybody else; the
Elder Brother, with quiet esteem and af-
fection, the Boy with adoring tenderness.
Evelyn had wondered over this,a little, in
the beginning of her acquaintance with
Helen.
The two women had studied and worked
and written together, shoulder to shoulder,
desk to desk, in the far days when the Boy
had seemed a mere baby; the happy,indus
trious over-worked days, long before suc-
cess had come to the one and death to the
other. They had been close friends and
comrades. in the quiet yet devoted manner
80 often declared impossible between wom-
“en, especially women doing the same work.
And when Helen knew her earthly mo-
ments numbered, she turned to her sister
friend and comrade, and caught hold of her
with eager beseeching han ds.
‘“The Boy!"’ she gasped, faintly.
“T’11 do all I can for him,dearest’answer
ed Evelyn, comprehending and accepting
the trust indefinitely offered. ‘I'll always
remember that he’s the darling brother of
the only sister I ever had.’’
‘‘He’ll—mind—you—Evelyn,’’came the
second faint whisper, which Evelyn’s ears
were strained to comprehend, even slowly.
‘‘He thinks—you’re—great’’
A quick smile curved sweetly about the
lips fast paling, and, so smiling, Helen slip-
ped over the near edge of the Great Mystery
and was lost to this present existence. Ev-
elyn, from that moment, acted toward the
Boy precisely, as she felt that Helen would
have acted bad she still been living. She
gave to him love, assistance—both frequent
and varied—a sublime patience,a degree of
forbearance alinost approaching the super-
human; she received, in return, a calm ac-
ceptance of her kindness, roses and violets
on most holiday occasions,a real pride and
pleasure in her growing success. Now,
eleven years after the time of Helen’s pass-
ing,she accepted the office of charmer—since
this seemed necessary for the Boy’s salva-
tion—precisely as she had acoepted all the
other delicate—and thankless—situations
of the past eleven years.
‘When the Boy called the next evening,
Evelyn was radiant in pale blue and silver
instead of the quiet grays she usually af
fected. after dinner. The Boy, quick to
note and appreciate outward beauty, com-
plimented her frankly upon her appear-
ance. She parried his remarks with a del-
icate coquetry quite new to his acquaint-
ance. Mystified,charmed, enchanted, thor-
oughly well entertained, the Boy forgot all
about the latter call he had intended to
make upon Mrs. Brankinthorpe.
‘‘“You look ten years younger that I have
ever seen you,’”’ he told her, admiringly,
when it was time for ‘‘Good-nighs.”’
“What !”’ she cried, smiling. ‘Ten
years younger than when you first knew
me, nearly twenty years ago? Then you
mean to tell me that I, who have passed my
thirty-fifth birthday, don’t look a day over
fifteen ?
“Not a day over twenty-five, anyway,”’
he assured ber, sincerely, ‘‘and you’re a
whole lot prettier than you used to be,Eve-
lyn, into the bargain.”
Evelyn, smiling, looked at herself long
and narrowly as she faced her tall mirror,
that evening. Yes, it was true. Allowing
something—much—for friendly and gal-
lant exaggeration, she was certainly young-
er, prettier, than she used to be in the by-
gone days of her twenties. Her figure, al-
ways tall, slender, and of good lines, was
rounded now, and svelte and gracious. Her
eyes, hair, expression, coloring, were all
brighter, more alluring, than during the
over-worked, over-worn period of her earlier
womanhood. The stern, unattractive‘pro-
fessional woman’s line’’ carved by much
battling with Fate was relaxing its cruel
hold upon her lips and forehead; with the
stress of conflict left behind, she was ap-
proaching a second youth. Something hap-
py stirred within her as she realized this,
and remembered that to some women hap-
piness comes late.
“Perhaps the law of compensation works
this way, also,’’ she told herself, still smil-
ing. ‘‘Perhaps—"’
But not even to her mirror conld she ex
press the sweet, half-mischievous thought
that perbaps even the neglected charm of
hergirlhood might yet be hers for the using.
Next evening,the Boy, moved by a char-
acteristic impulse to renew a pleasant ex-
perience, called again. Again he forgot to
leave in time to call upon Mrs. Brankin-
thorpe later. Again Evelyn, who had nev-
er cared to coques for her own sake, or for
the sake of amusement, bent to he elusive,
alluring, vaguely enchanting. The Boy
stayed: with her until she had to send him
away—and next night he was at her door
almost before she had finished dinner.
Within a. week: the power of the dangerous
first charmer had’ waned perceptibly. Two
weeks, and the Elder Brother, reporting
progress, delightedly informed Evelyn that
the Boy had indignantly disclaimed, to a
mutual acquaintance, even the moss casual
and passing admiration for Mrs. Brankin-
thorpe.
“It is time for the second feature of the
campaign,’ answered Evelyn astutely.
From that moment on she filled her room
with bright company three or four nights
of every week, and always the Boy was in-
vited. Brilliant, amusing, he began to ac-
quire social distinction; really clever and
in love with his profession, he soon turned
this distinction to professional advantage,
Three months from the time when Evelyn
had undertaken the office of charmer he was
beginning to rejoice in a good practice, to
be mentioned as one of the rising contingent.
Then, suddenly,Evelyn, who,with the El-
der Brother, had exulted immoderately,re-
ceived a succession of two sharp shocks.
A woman—none other than the redoubt-
able and indignant Mrs. Braukinthorpe, in
fact—set afloat the rumor that Evelyn and
the Boywere to be married, that Evelyn
had sought after and entrapped the Boy, to
be brutally open. A kind friend carried
the rumor to headquarters. But the se-
cond—and—severer—shock came to Evelyn
with * the realization that, her first'natural
provocation over, she did not care.
‘Why not ?’’ she found her inner self in
quiring, half ashamed, but persistent. Her
mind ran over, unasked, but unhindered,
long lists of women who had made happy
men much vounger than themselves, of
adoring husbands married to wives many
vears their senior. And, after all,she was
not quite nine years older than the Boy !
The Elder Brother, al! unconsciously, add-
ed fuel to the flame.
‘What would you say, Evelyn.”’he ask-
ed her a day or two later, *"if I should tell
you that I believe the Boy in a fair way to
get married ?”’
““What would you say,’’she counter-ques
tioned, parrving, not knowing that they
were playing at cross-purposes.
“Well,” returned the Elder Brother,
slowly, “I told Johnston, who told me that
other people are connecting the Boy’s name
with that of a lady whom he didn’t men-
tion, that if the right kind of a woman ac-
cepted the Boy, I'd be mighty glad for his
sake. A good wife would be the very mak-
ing of him, especially now he’s getting on
better. But I don’t think he ought to mar-
ry a very young girl, Evelyn; a woman a
few years older than himself would be much
better, from my way of thinking.’
Evelyn, speechless with the delight of his
supposed but actually undreamed of approv-
al felt that she conld not meet hiseye~ Had
she done so she would have seen that they
were a little dim. The long-dead hope
bad hlossomed forth into timid resurrection
under the spell of Evelyn’s new-found re-
juvenescence.and the Elder Brother bad de-
cided to risk a mighty plunge.
‘‘Very young people are callow,any way’
he said, presently. ‘‘They miss a great
deal of life I fancy, and never know it.
Now I’ve sometimes thought, lately, Evelyn
that you and I might have been pretty hap-
py together, it we'd only thoughtsoin time
I’ve always loved you, Evelyn, aithough
I’ve always been afraid to say so. I've
fancied—lately—that perhaps you niight
have—thought something of it—if I’d—told
you sooner. ”’
There was a moment’s silence in which
Evelyn weighed, realized, tested, and laid
aside — forever — the possibilities which
would once have spelled heaven to her de-
lighted spirit. Now—why,the Boy was in
love with her, surely, and she with the
Boy !
*‘One fancies very foolish things, some-
times, old friend,’’ she said,gently.
Almost before the door had closed upon
the Elder Brother—kind and friendly as
ever, but with the cynical look in his eyes,
a little deeper—it opened to admit the Boy
radiant,handsome, good to see in the well-
fisting evening dress which became him ad-
mirably. He, too, was silent and dreamy
for some time. Then he took a seat beside
Evelyn on the divan,and, folding both her
hands within his own, looked at her with
ardent eyes before which her own sank in-
evitably.
‘Dear.’ he began,solemnly,his voice low
and uncertain—‘‘dear,I have to thank you
for almost everything good in my life, you
and the Elder Brother’’—the Boy often
made use of the quaint title which had so
clung after Evelyn's bestowal—‘‘and Hel-
en, but never before have I appreciated
what youn are and what you have always
been to me, half of what you have accom-
plished in my behalf. But now—
‘The Big Five Radiator Company noti-
fied me yesterday,” he interrupted himself
to explain, ‘‘that I have been made their
official physician, with many advantages
and a fine salary. The salary,part of which
has been paid in advance, gives me the right
to say what I am now saying, Evelyn.
This ring,’’ slipping the glittering trinket
from his pocket to her third finger, ‘‘was
bought out of my first important earnings,
and it ie to go to-night upon the band of
the prettiest, sweetest, dearest little: wom—
an in all creation. And it was you, dear
Evelyn, who first brought us together.’’
The hands he still held grew cold,but he
never knew it. All on fire with his subject
he dropped them lightly, replaced the ring
which had come back into his own fingers
assuddenly as mysteriously,and rose to pace
the floor.
‘You remember Leslie Golding, of
course,’’ he said,further. ‘‘I met her, fell
in love with her,in this very room,Evelyn.
I've been calling on her, more or less regu-
larly,ever since, and last night she promis-
ed to marry me. The new position and
the salary gave me the right to ask her.
And I came to you, as my dearest, best of
friends, with my happiness, first of all.*’
‘*As your oldest friend also, you should
have said,’’ responded Evelyn,bravely, re-
pressing the strange, smile and intonation,
which the Boy was too self-absorbed to no-
tice. ‘‘And you did qiute right, Boy dear.
I wish you both all the joy and happiness
imaginable, and yon must bring the dear
girl to see me very soon.’’
“I will,’’ said the Boy,earnestly. ‘“‘We
both spoke of it last night. She’s ready
to love you as much as Ido,Evelyn. And
—aud here—Evelyn—?’
He was trying to press asmall sealed en-
velope hetween her tightly clenched fin-
gers.
“It’s—it’s the money I owe you, dear
lady,’’ said the Boy,blushing,humble, and
embarrssed for the first time, perbaps,in his
entire existence. ‘‘I—I think it’s all there.
I've kept count, usually, Evelyn, although
it must often have seemed to you that I
was never going to repay it. that I didn’t
mind owing it,even. But I care now,Eve-
lyn, whether I used to do or not, and—
well, I’ve tried to save a little money ever
since I’ve known Leslie, and I couldn’t go
to her to-night—with this ring—owing any
other woman money, even when I love and
revere the other woman as I do you.”
For answer she drew the bright face
down to a level with her own, and pressed
upon the untroubled brow such a kiss as
we give to the dead rather than the living.
Then when the Boy—the Boy of her long-
time affection no longer,but a new creature
radiant, transformed by the power of the
glorious, assertive manliness which had
been so slow in expressing itself—had de-
parted,bad gone on his transfigured way re-
joicing, she sat down to inform the Elder
Brother that all her long faith in the Boy
had been justified, and that he was no long
er her debtor. She wrote this last the
more gladly because some of the money had
been owing very long,and the Elder Broth-
er had more than once disgustedly predieted
that it never would be repaid.
The unopened envelope containing the
money she locked away in the little treas-
ure-box which held her mother’s picture,
a curl of soft hair out from above the calm
face which had smiled out of Helen's coffin
the first favorable press notice her first book
had received,and a tiny keepsake given her
by the Elder Brother long, long ago—a
small mirror set about with pearls. An
added pang transfixed her sharply at sight
of the tired face, changed and palid, which
caught her eye in this trinket.
“You young-looking and pretty!’ she
whispered, with contemptuous bitterness.
‘Why, you might be ninety years old.”
In closing her desk she looked from Hel-
en’s portrait, framed on top of it,to the oth-
er framed portraits—of the Boy and the El
der Brother—which stood near, and sud-
denly she laid her weary head down on her
crossed arms and broke into a passion of
sobbing.
“I’ve done the best I could,Helen,’’ she
heard herself murmuring, wretchedly, ‘‘and
I think your dear Boy has been saved fer
you. But I,”’ with an odd swift glance at
the kind, stern face of the Elder Brother,
and a fresh accession of misery, ‘*have lost
them both.’’.—By Ethel M. Colson in Har-
per's Bazar.
Baldwin On Arctic Trip.
Explorer Explains Trouble Between Himself and
Capt. Johannsen. Denies He Was Short of Food.
Mr. Baldwin Says Johannsen Wanted to be the
Whole Thing, and Objected to Ice Pilot Directing
Ships In Ice Fields.
Evelyn B. Baldwin, the Arctic explorer,
arrived last week in New York on thesteam-
ship Germania, Mr. Baldwin at first refused
to talk abont the alleged controversies which
had taken place between him and Captain
Johannsen, of the America, but after hear-
ing that it had been reported that the ex-
pedition had been short of food and sup-
plies, he made the following statement:
*“Therl is not a word of truth in the re-
port of our not having sufficient supplies.
It is easy to explain the trouble between
myself and Captain Johannsen. He want-
ed to be the whole thing. That’s all. The
trouble first started between the captain,
or to give him his proper title, sailing mas-
ter, and the ice pilot, whose name is Arn-
sen. The ice pilot took up his place in
the crow’s nest, on the ship, when we were
in the ice fields, and should have had, and jo
eventually did bave,complete charge of the
directing of the ship. The sailing master
objected to the 1ce pilot’s holding absolute
sway over the movements of the ship at
any time, and that is how the row began.
I, of course, took the side of the pilot, and
saw that he was kept in command while
we were in the ice.. The pilot had 29 years
experience in the ice fields, while the sail-
ing master had practically none.
‘The expedition went away with 42
persons on board, and we brought back the
same number. Why, we ought to be con-
gratulated instead of, as you say in Amer-
ica, jumped on, I bave learned one good
lesson, though—never take a Swede and a
Norwegian along with you if you want to
avoid trouble. The ice pilot was a Swede.
There’s the whole thing in a nutshell."
In response to Mr. Baldwin’s request
for information regarding any charge made
against him, he was shown a published in-
terview with J. Knowles Hare, an artist on
the expedition, who recently arrived here.
The interview stated that there had been
a disgraceful row hetween the captain and
the America and Baldwin, and aiso that
there had been an insuffieient food supply.
Mr. Baldwin was also informed that L. S.
Vineyard, of Durango, Col., the first mem-
ber of the expedition to arrive in America,
had said that he would never go north again
with Mr. Baldwin.
“I don’t believe it,”’ said the explorer.
“Why, neither of these men have any
cause to say anything against me. Every-
one was treated fairly, and no one can say
truthfully that be was not. If I go again
next year, no master who I take with me,
whether they be Zulus, Hottentots or white
men, there are sure to be some kickers in
the crowd. The members of this expedi-
tion was mostly young men, and very few
of them had ever undertaken such a trip
before. This might explain some of the
things said about me, but I am being done
a great injustice.
“I still believe that when the pole is
reached it will be found surrounded by ice.
The fate of Andre? Why, I think he went
down into the sea.’’
The explorer said he had come directly
from Tromsoe, Norway, at the direction of
Mr. Ziegler, who dispatched the expedi-
tion.
Booming Lake City.
Lorain, Where the New Steel Trust Tube Mill Will
Be Located. .
Now that President Schwab has definitely
announced the points at which the two
greatest tube mills in the world are to be
built—those of the Steel Trust, which are
to be centralized in two cities—the lake
port of Lorain is ahout to take an important
place in the public eye. Although the same
amount, $10,000,000, is to be expended at
McKeesport, in the erection of the
other of the new plants, it is conceded that
the greater interest will centre in Lorain.
Lorain is a city of nearly 17,000 inhabi-
tants. With the tube mill completed with-
in five years it is confidently estimated that
the population will reach 32,000
The river which empties into Lake Erie
at Lorain harbor is navigable for three and
a balf miles. The proposed width of the
channel is 400 feet—a width which will
meet all exigencies of the future. The new
tube mills will be located beside the river,
bus just on which side has not been definite-
ly decided. Hundreds of acres of land
are available on either side the company
may choose to locate. Among the great
industries of that city at the present time
are the shipyards, which rank with the
largest on the lakes.
The new tube works at Lorain, it is said,
will employ in the neighkorhood of 8000
men. Like the plant at McKeesport its
product will be exclusively steel tubing.
In addition to the raw product of iron ore
being received by boat at the very point
where it will be converted into steel, the
coal for the plant, as well as the coal for
lake shipment, will arrive over a direct
line of railroad from the West Virginiaand
Southern Ohio coal fields.
The Perfect Horse.
While it is almost impossible to get a
perfect horse, one can come near to it if the
dimensions of such horses are known. - Os-
car Gleason, the noted horse trainer, gives
the following as the dimensions of what a
perfect horse should be. These are the
average measurments of six horses accepted
for perfect symmetry and include two cele-
brated stallions two thoroughbred hunters
and two chargers. This will not apply to
the draft horse, but it will be found that
the nearer the general utility horse comes
to these measurements the better he will
be:
Height, 66 inches: length from shoulder
point to quarter, 66 inches: from the lowest
part of the chest to the ground, 36 inches;
from the elbow point to the ground, 39
inches; from the withers to poll, just be-
hind the ears in a straight line, 30 inches;
the same measured along the chest, 32 in-
ches; length of the head, 22 inches: width
across the forehead, 93 inches; withers to
the hip, 22 inches; stifle to the point of the
hock, 29 inches; root of the tail to thestifle
joint, 26 inches; point of the hock to the
ground 22} inches length of arm from the
elbow to the pisiform bone (the rear bone
of those forming the articulation of the
knee), 193 inches; girth varies from 79 to
89 inches. circumference of fore cannon
bone (large metacorpal or shank bone ex-
tending from the knee to the fetlock), 7} to
9 inches; circumference of arm just below
the elbow, 16} to 18 inches.—American Ag-
riculturist.
——Subscribe for the WATCHMAN.
Brave Alem Bly?
He killed One Out of Five Desperate Men Wh
Tried to Rob a Safe. Also Wounded Two Others
There Was a Terrific Battle With Revolvers in
Which He Came Off the Victor.
Five masked and desperate burglars made
a bold attempt to rob the safe of the Mon.
toursville Passenger Raiiroad company, at
an early hour last Thursday morning. In
a terrific battle with revolvers, which fol-
lowed the attempt, oue of the desperadoes
was killed and two others slightly wound-
ed by Evgineer Alem Bly. who was shot
twice by the robbers.
Shortly before 2 o’clock when Engineer
Alem Bly was at work repairing a water
pump in the power house of the Montours-
ville Passenger Railway company, he was
startled by a terrific crash, caused by the
front door of the building heing battered in
with a heavy plank. Bly rushed to adesk
which contained his revolver and as he
turned to face the intruders, he was met
with a fusilade of shots from the revolvers
in the hands of five men, who had the low-
er part of their faces covered with handker-
chiefs, One of the shots struck Bly in the
hip and another made a flesh wound in the
thigh. The wounds did not disable the
brave engineer, however, and he levelled
his revolver and fired at one of the burglars,
who was several feet in advance of his pals.
The bullet pierced the heart of the des-
perado and he fell dead. The engineer
kept firing at the rest of the gang, who
kept up a continuous fire, wounded two
of them slightly. After his revolver had
been emptied, Bly retreated through a rear
door of the boiler house and to a nearby
factory and aroused the watchman, who
sounded an alarm by blowing the factory
whistle.. While Bly was absent the rob-
bers dragged the dead hody of their pal to
the outside of the building, where they left
it and fled. Up toa late hour no trace of
them has been found.
The dead man was 5 feet 9} inches tall,
well proportioned and muscular, weighing
probably 175 pounds- He had dark brown
hair, a prominent nose, perfect teeth and
wore no beard or mustache. He was about
35 years of age. On his right arm were
tatooed the Liberty Bell, the American
flag and a cross and on the back of his hand
and wrist a star. On the left forearm was
the figure ofa woman. On his left leg be-
low the knee was a scar, evidently from
scald. It was two inches wide and nine
inches long. In a black derby hat was
pasted a label bearing the words “*E. Ne-
vell, leader of fashions,’”’ the name of the
town being unintelligible. On the neck of
a black worsted coat was an inscription;
¢‘One Price Clothing House, Altoona.’’ In
the buttonhole on the lapel of his coal was
a small button on whioh was letters which
read as follows: “U. M. W. A., April 1st,
1898, eight hours.” From his badge it
was first believed he was a miner. Some
doubt was thrown on this, however, by the
fact that his general appearance was not
likelyjto convey that impression. No pow-
der or coal marks were found on his body
and his hands were small and the palms
soft, showing that the man never did much
manual labor.
The local police are working on the clue
which may result in the capture of the fugi-
tives.
The coroner’s jury rendered a ver-
dict exonerating Engineer Bly from all
blame for having caused the death of the
unidentified robber.
Ten Years of Life a Blank.
Disappeared in Texas—Wife Thought He Was Dead
and Married Again.
For ten years the wife and family of
George Nipper, a cattle man of Vinita, I.
T., bave mourned him as dead. He had
disappeared mysteriously and no trace had
been found. .
Ten years ago George Nipper, then one
of the wealthiest cattlemen in the Indian
Territory, left his homeat Claremore and
went to Houston, Tex., taking with him
$6000 to buy cattle to ship to his ranch.
His wife and child remained at home and
expected him to return in a short time with
a large herd of cattle.
Nipper wrote his wife from Houston that
he landed there all right; she looked for
letters from him in vain after that for a
while, but none came. Inquiry was made
and no traces of Nipper were found. The
matter stood this way for three years, and
the people concluded that Nipper had been
killed and robbed in Texas, and the insur-
ance company paid Mrs. Nipper $1000 as a
compromise settlement. Mrs. Nipper mar-
ried D. L, Denny, a prominent cattleman
at Claremore. After a few years they sep-
arated, and Mrs. Denny returned to her
ranch to make her home with her elderson,
Henry Walkley.
M. D. Woodson, formerly of Claremore,
is now in Denver, Col.,, and about two
weeks ago a forlorn and decrepit man ac-
costed him and asked assistance. Mr.
Woodson at once recognized the wayfarer
as Nipper. Nipper recognized Woodson
but claimed his own name to be Williams.
‘Woodson told Nipper of his career in Clare-
more and its sad ending with his Texas
trip. Nipper’s mind then cleared up, and
be told Woodson something of his misfor-
tunes. Nipper afterward wrote to D. L.
Denny and told him additional facts. Nip-
per says he landed in Houston safe and
sound, and in the course of his transactions
there, starte 1 from his hotel to the depot,
and enroute was stricken with paralysis.
He lay Bing jeats in the hospital, being un-
able to make known his name or place of
residence. His memory gradually passed
away, and upon his release from the hospi-
tal he wandered aimlessly about, not even
{knowing hie right name or from whence he
came. He wandered on and on in his
wrecked condition, until the light of other
days was turned into his clouded brain by
his chance meeting with Mr. Woodson, his
old friend.
As soon as the people of Claremore re-
ceived this intelligence an investigation
was at once ordered by the citizens of that
town, and Teesey Chambers started at once
for Denver to identily Nipper and see if it
was really he. The telegram received this
morning from Teesey Chambers says: ‘1%
is George Nipper.”
The people of Claremore have wired Mr.
Chambers to see that Nipper is brought
home at once to his friends where he can be
cared for. -
Corn of Seed Centuries Old.
Rev. R. L. Jones, of Bentleyville, Wash-
ington county, a retired Methodist Episco-
pal clergyman, has raised a dozen or more
stalks of corn, come from seeds that were
3,000 years old and dug up by archaeolo-
gists in Egypt. Mr. Jones received the seed
as a presens from Adam P. Hopkins, of
Rochester, Pa. Mr. Hopkins secured the
seed while in the Holy Lapd. The corn
stalks in Mr. Jones’ garden are 14 feet
high and the ears are too high for a man
of ordinary stature to reach. Some of the
ears are nearly two feet in length and the
grains are blood red. The seeds wheén
planted were dried up and shriveled until
they were no larger than grains of wheat.