“I am an entire stranger in New York,'’ | Wells. A stout, amiable-lookiog gentle- began the young woman in a low, sweet, | man stood before them and held out bis An Inscription Famed for Beauty of Expression on a Soldier's Monument. | The North Pole. Grny Hair is =n Disease. Let we attempt to answer the question | Noone uced he gray baired who does SR RI Bellefonte, Pa. August 24, 1906. GOD KEEP God keep you deareast, all this lovely night, The winds are still— The moon drops down behind the western hill, God keep you, dearest, till the light. You. God keep you there when slumbers melt away And care and strife Take up new arms to fret our waking life, And keep you through the battle of the day. God keep you my beloved soul, How vain, how poor is prayer— 1 can but say again and yet again God keep you every time and every where. IDENTIFYING ANNE. Anne made another hasty search shrough ber traveling-bag, spilling out a band- a clean collar, and two or three other things in the process. The two women in the opposite section looked with cold cari. osity at this impetuous young person. An- ne did not notice them. She scrambled the things together, crammed them into the bag, and soapped it shat. Then she lean- ed back with a baffled expression. A well-dressed young man at the further end of the car looked up from his book and watched her also, idly, but with vague dis- approbation. A girl traveling alone ought to preserve a sedate and reserved demean- or. This girl, with her repeated aud fran- tic overhauling of her traveling-bag was at- tracting the attention of the people in the car. The traveling salesman in the next section was keeping an eager eye upon her. Anne did not notice the traveling sales- man. Neither had she observed the well. dressed young man at the further end. She was engaged in wratbfal cogitations. *‘Mary’s hashan © will never be able to find me now,’’ she thought. “Why did I say a navy-blue dress and a red necktie? All the world is traveling in navy-blue, and I've lost my red necktie. I'm sure I put it into the bag.’”’ She made a tenta- tive reach for the , but thought better of it. ‘Somebody took it out, of course. I wish the whole family wouldn’s insist up- on doing my packing for me when I travel. It was perfectly silly of Mary anyway to marry a man nobody had ever seen. Por- ter!” A small whiteband and a large black one approached and the porter for the second time that afternoon bent him- sell prostrate and gazed lingeringly under the seats, while Miss Anne Edgerly stood in the aisle and cheered him to renewed endeavors whenever he essayed to rise. ““Tain’t thabh miss,’’ he declared finally, getting to his feet apologetically bus deter- minedly. ‘‘It suttenly ain’t. Again Anoe leaned back in herseat and reviewed the situation. She did not know New York. Mary's bashand was coming in from their eounotry-place to meet her and take her ont. ‘‘And how shall I feel going out there alone, even if I could find the way— which I am sure I couldo’t—after putting Mr. Robinson to all that tronble—""thus ran her unhappy thoughts. ‘And, of course, he is very conventional and digoi- fied. It would be just like Mary to marry that kind of a man.'’ Ar this farther lack of consideration on Mary's part her feelings grew lower. Still her «yes, vaguely hope- ful that something might tarn up, wander. ed about the car. They flitted lightly hy the traveling man who wore a pleasing smile to greet them, they brightened mo- mentarily at a scarlet rihhon on a hahy's bonuet, they scanned exp-ctauntly the fam- ily of children that dodged in and oat of the state-room ; and coming back discour- aged by way of the old laily and her daugh- ter in somber black, thev came =addenly to an amazed and joyfal stop. The younog man next wore a red necktie ! Not a line of flashing scarlet like the rib- bon she bad lost. His was a dull and uo- obtrusive red, but is was red. Fascinated, she continued to stare, until lifting her eyes a little higher, it was apparent even to ber absorbed mind, that the owner of the uecktie was disapprovingly conscious of her gaze. Then she dropped her eyes, but her thonghts refased to leave the neok- tie. He had another—she remembered now noticing him when he got into the car at Chicago. If only—she glanced fartive- ly at him from under her lashes. His face was turned away, but the profile looked severe. Oonce more she reached for her traveling-bag. This time she took oat a red silk dressing sacque and eyed is specu- latively. And the two women opposite and the traveling gentleman and she young mao, whose eyes had hy this time return- ed to ber, wondered what this absorbed sa evave young woman was going to do next. ‘‘Have yon any scissors ?’' said Aone. She was addressing the two women. ‘‘We have not,’’ they answered as one person, with the glibness of those who thankfolly escape responsibility. “Ob, dear !"” murmered Anne. ‘‘Bat then if I bad scissors | shouldn’t have any needle and thread. I remember mother told me to take needle and thread. Maybe she put them in.’’ She opened the bag. ‘‘But what use would needle and thread be,” she continued. I haven't any scis- sors.” New York was barely an hour away. She put the bag back with a firm sib ig I a supe y grave, . $ she could see the gleam of his white teeth as he bent confidentially over the y map. Her ears sharpened by Bir Bd embarrassment, could all but hear the words : *‘The lady wants to know, sah, if yeu'll please and sell youh necktie ?*’ One glimpse of the shocked astonishment on the teatures of the listening young man —then she turned her unbappy gaze ous of She window. Uncounted ages passed I ‘‘He says, miss,’”’ the porter’s hushed voice sounded in ber ear. ‘‘He says, miss, as how he don’t caab to sell none of his ry." Pro you mean—'' ghe eat stinight™- "tbat he teluscd 7 7 TY 11 please return,” said Miss erly, ‘‘and tell him that I wish to to him.” i g 3 hh sefiaezd 1H i i + I lay voice, and with the proud air of ope | hand. The train had come to a standstill. who tells her tale, indifferent to the listen- er's attitude. tion by a man whom I have never seen and who has never seen me.’’ ‘“‘His misfortune!” the young man would bave murmured but dared not. ““The arrangement was,’’ she continued, “‘that I should wear a blue dress and a red necktie.” “And I have lost the tie,”’ ended Miss Edgerly, as ove might s with calm of a fallen city or a vanished estate. She lifted her eyes to his. And then, bad she told hinvshe was going to China and needed his head for the Dowager Empress, it would bave been at her service. The thought that it was nos his mission in life to su ply traveliog young women with red neck- ties was forever fled. In its place rankled the reflection that he had all but thrown away a heaven-sent uppettunity to do something, however slight, for a giil like this. Her face—a water-color face, with charcoal effects in hair and eyes ; her voice, low, sweet, with the cold music of a moun- tain brook, convicted him of intolerable radeness. His offense loomed big belore bim and be wondered at this thing that he had done. “I do not deserve,’’ he began, ‘‘to be al- lowed to give you this necktie—I never saw sach dark-blue eyes,”’ he thought. “I wish to buy the tie,’”’ she corrected, still very cold and gentle. He fairly stammered in bis baste to amend his speech. “‘I mean, I do not de- serve to be allowed to sell yon this dark- blue necktie—at least I would say this— Miss Edgerly’s eyes darkened with stern inquiry. ‘‘They are black,”” be thought. “I donot wish a blue necktie,” said Anne. *‘No, black, I mean——Jove! they are blue after all,’’ his thoughts ran. “I am very anxious to sell you anything—any- thing—oh, fool ! what are you sayiog? Her expression was growing icier. Mr. John Harrington Wells pulled himself to- gether. “I assure you I am anxious to make all amends,” be said. ‘I realize what uon- pardonable annoyance I have caused you-"' Miss Edgerly, from the lofty position of the one in she right. looked down upon the penitent. “Then you will sell me the necktie,” she said. Mr. John Harrington Wells proceeded to get into more trouble. ‘‘Won’t you let me give it to you ?’’ he begged. “Certainly not,’ said Anne. “Bat—-" *“That is simply to refuse,’’ she inter- rupted. ‘‘We will let it go.” ‘Indeed, no !"’ he cried, shocked at the awful thought. ‘“T'hen ?'’ she suggested, coldly patient. “I do not remember what it cost,”’ he temporized. ‘It cost seventy-five cents,’’ said Anne. “I have ope like it.” ‘‘But you bought yours at a department store, and they charged you more. I am nite sure it was a quarter I paid for this. ides,” as she prepared to speak, ‘‘it is second-band and you never ges more than half value for second-hand things.’ ‘I shall pay you seventy-five cents for it,”’ said Apne. ‘Really I conld not take that’’’ he pro- tested. ‘‘Imagine my feelings after a rob- bery like that. I tell you,” with another conrageocs impulse, ‘I will rent it to you.” “How absurd I” {‘Not at all. Youn do not want the tie— you want only the use of it.” “Very well, I will rent it for seventy- five cents.” “Then you will feel no obligation about returning it, and [ want it back. I was always fond of this necktie,’’ he hastened | to add, warned by ber expression. ‘It was given to me." Miss Edgerly raised her straight brows the merest fraction : “If you will let the porter bring it to me,’’ she said, “I will give him the money.”’ She did not pick up the hook that lay beside her ; she did not even turn her eyes away to sigmly that the last word bad been spoken ; but the youug mau found himself rising from the seat opposite her and taking leave with a bow of grave respect. Presently the porter delivered a listle package to Anne and returned with the silver. The transaction was ended. Miss Edgerly bad the tie, M:. Harrington Wells bad seventy-five cents, and the porter bad a dollar. He was content ; so was Miss Edgerly ; Mr. Wells was not. Anne, secure in the certainty that Mary's husband could not fail to find ber, leaned back in her seat and allowed all avnoying thoughts to slip away, soothed by the knowledge that it was now Mr. Wells whose eyes roamed the car in the hope that subetbiog might taro up, on that poiot her mind was firm. She would not drop ber handkerchief nor leave her um- brella, both of which acts were customary with her ; there would be no possible Shance {af ny one to hasten after her with assistance. It was right that she |i should be unhappy, as she koew he was without looking at bim. She would mail the tie to the address on his card. Then she would forget him entirely. And Mr. Jobn Harrington wondering what god of him to enclose his card in the package, thas cutting off his one excose ap: Jroathing er. There, the was hing her bat and coat umbrella and bag. Now, she was standing in the aisle, t and graceful, turning slowly about while every speck of dust was being removed from her hlue dress. Her slow revolution brought her face toward bim, but her gaze was over his head. Now she wae putting on her bat, bending forward in her seat to look into the little mirror; now she was calmly tening the red tie, and now she was lean: back in her seat, buttoning her gloves ready to leave the train. “In five minutes, sab,’’ said the porter. Mr. Wells submitted absent-mindedly to the porter’s brush, his mind evolving and rejecting schemes. He walked delib- erately down to the end seat and addressed hi to the statue-like young woman who sat there. “Will you not allow me to with you uotil you are sure your fri finds you?" he said. It was not what he meant to say. He had forgotten what that was. “It is guite unoecessary,’’ her tone was frigid. ly the consciousness of the red tie she wore ber from summarily dis. missing bim. Just because she did not want to, she put up a nervous band to it. Then she lifted an Volunbiry giause $6 bia face. His expression bespoke his anxious assurance that he was not aware of her having on a red tie. : “I shall nos need any "said with it Mary's h i “You are Miss Edgerly, I know. [saw “I am to be met at the sta- | tke name on your bag the first thing. Locky,”” continued Mr. Robinson with a smile that included Mr. Wells, ‘as I'd for- ten ull about how Mary said you would dressed. All I remambered was that she said you were uncommonly pretry”’ he langhed joyously, and glanced inquir- ingly at Anne's companion. “Mr. Wells, Mr. Robinson,” murmured Anuve. It was all she could do,but she did not turn her eves again in Mr. John Har- rington Wells's direction. Not so Mr. Robinson. He greeted the young man with the greatest cordialisy. “Live in New York, Mr. Wells *"’ Le inquired. “Then yon must run out aad see us while Miss Edgerly is with ns.”’ He entered into details of the easiest way to get there, while Anoe stood in stony si- lence, and Mr. Wells, after vainly endeav- oring to catch her eye, thanked him with graceful ease and said he would be de- lighted. Anne «at under a tree in Mary's Euglsh | garden and read aloud to her hostess. Two weeks bad passed since her arrival, two weeks undisturbed by any intrudiog stranger. As she read ‘‘Geraiot and Enid” in her clear, low voice, her mind wandered from the poem to the fact. Mr. Robinson, bearing cold drinks on a tray, appeared from the house. “Come, girls,” be said briskly, ‘you've bad enough of that staff. Now a little ginger ale—Hello! who's this?” A young man was being directed across the lawn with the absence of ceremony char acteristic of the Robinson household. Mr. Robinson gave an exclamation of pleasure. “Why, it's Mr. Wells !I'” hesct the tray down hastily on his wife's embroidery, and went forward with outstretched hand. ‘It has taken you a long time to look ns up. Mary. my dear, Mr. Harrington Wells, Anne's friend. Have a glass of ginger ale, Wells 2" Anne's friend shook hands with Mrs. Robinson, and then tarned to Anve. She gave him a chilly little hand which he took in a generous grasp, the while he looked deprecatingly into her indignant eyes. “I'm going to get some more of this ale,” said M:. Robinson. *‘I'll be back imme. diately.” As he trotted away, a maid looked out of the door : ‘*Mrs. Robinsoa, nurse says—"' Mrs. Robinson dropped her embroidery and a rose. “You will excuse me a moment,’ she said sweetly, bat abstractedly ; when the baby was in question the rest of the world counted not. She also vanished. “I stayed away two weeks,’’ said Mr. Jobn Harrington Wells. “Do I deserve nothing for that ?’ Miss Edgerly looked over the young man’s head at the climbing roses on the garden wall. ‘‘I seot you the tie,”’ she said. “I got it, thank you. after the tie.” ‘You had no right to come at all.” *‘Ab, but yon could not expect me to make no effort to see you.” **You took advantage.”’ “A man would be a fool not to take ad- vantage of a chance to know you.” She did not reply to this. “I have been very busy for the past two weeks,’ he continued slowly. ‘Is that an apology for not caliiog sooner ?"’ He smiled. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I was busy getting an excuse for calling at all.”” He got ap from the low seat and went across to lay a letter in ber lap. ‘It is from Mrs. Blaisdell.” Mrs. Blaisdell’s was a name to conjure with in Chicago society. Moreover, she was a dear friend of Anne's mother. Un- willingly she opened the letter. A long and very informal letter of introduction it was, and it endowed the bearer, Mr. John Harrington Wells, with all desirable qual- ities. **You will find him useful, Anve,ae well as enjoyable,” it ended. ‘‘He is delight- tally obliging.” This sentence threatened Anne's gravity. Moreover, she did not know what to say, 80 she went back to the heginning and read it over. ‘‘Mrs. Blaisdell’s writing seems to trouble you,’’ he suggested. ‘‘Can I be of any help ? She let me read it.” “I think you dictated it,’’ said Anne. He laughed out. ‘‘Really, I didn’s,” be assured ber, ‘‘hut I went back to Chi- cago to ges it lest she might have forgotten some of my good qualities.” He watched with enjoyment the curve in Miss Edger- ly’s red lips. *‘The whole incident would bave heen so without point if we had never met again,” he said. **No one was to make a story of it,” returned Aone. ‘‘And, anyway, that would have been a much more original ending. Even now, if we never saw each other again—"' “I am not willing to go any such lengths as that just for the sake of a he nterposed. “Besides, I should feel that we were tamely copying Henry James.” “It I were going to write the story,” said Anue reflectively, ‘I should bave the obliging young man turn out to be Mary's h 1” “No, thank you,” be said bastily. ‘“That would be very hackneyed.’ “Well, it 1 oe soe b write the stor repea gerly, rising to ber feet and roppi the letter and the ‘‘Idyils of the Kiog,’’ and ber bandker- chief, “I should end it one of those two ways. e bent one knee to pick ap her scat tered progeny. “And if I write the story,’ he said, and paused a moment looking up at her form where he knelt, ‘‘il I write the story it shail bave a very different ending.”’—By James Hopper, in MeClure's Magazine. a —— Whe Should Write Our Stories? Is is Life that asks ‘“Who should write our stories ?’’ and then answers the ques- tion after this fashion : The love story—Twain. The English story— London. The tearful Story Pade. —kope. storyo owells. The new y-ved story —Batcheller. I did not come the sample " ¢ bim)—“How do istinguish your clam chowder from a Waiter—'‘We bave different labels on the kettles, sir. Wish any coffee?’ For the past year puhlic interest has | —What is the north pole? And in doing | vot wish to be, deciares Prof. Metcbuikoff, been directed to memorial monuments as, in additioe to our own, adjacent towns bave recently erected memorials to their dead heroes and it is natural that each should think its own hest. However that may be, there is one in Colambia, South Carolina that, perbaps, surpasses thew all in its beautifully expressed sentiment. Because of the universal admiration ex. cited it is worth the attention of any who may not have seen is before. The following is the inscription on the | (wo steps only separate astronomical noou | Confederate Monument, *‘Erected by the Women of South Carvlina,” **To South Carolina's dead of the Confederate Army 1861.-1865."" Unveiled May 13¢h, 1879. s » 2 ® * THIS MONUMENT PERPETUATES THE MEMORY Of those who, True to the instincts of their birth, Faithful tothe teachings of their fathers, Constant in their love for the State, Died in the performance Of their duty ; Who Have glorified a rallen cause By the simple manhood of their lives, The patient endurance of suffering, Aud the heroism of death ; And who In the dark hours of imprisonment, In the hopelessness of the hospital, In the short, sharp agony of the field, Found Support and consolation In the belief That at home they would not be forgotten. Let the stranger Who may in future times Read this inscription Recoguize that these were men Whom power could not corrupt, Whom death could not terrify. Whom defeat could not dishonor. And let their virtue plead for just judgment Of the cause in which they perished. Let the South Carolinians Of another generation Remember That the State taught them How to live and bow to die And that from her broken fortunes She has preserved for ber children The priceless treasure of their memories, Teaching all who may Claim the same birthright That Truth, Courage, and Patriotism Endure for ever. By W, H. Nescorr. Old Testament Statistics. Here are some facts about the Old Testa- ment that is took one man three years’ time to figure out : There are 39 hooks, 929 chapters, 23,214 verses, 590,439 words and 2,728,100 let- ters. The middle book is Proverbs. The middle chapter is Job xxix. The middie verse wonld be II Chronicles xx, 18,if rhere were a verse more; and verse 17 if there were a verse less. The word ‘‘and’’ occurs 35,543 times. The word ““‘Jehovah’’ occurs 6,855 times. The shortest verse is I Chronicle 1:25. The twenty-first verse of Ezra vii, con- tains all the letters of the alphabet. The nineteenth chapter of The Second Book of Kings aud the thirty-seventh chapter of Isaiah are practically the same. In the New Testament there are 27 books, 160 chapters, 7,059 verses, 181,258 words and 380 letters. The middle is II Thessalonians. The middle chapter would be Romans xiii, if there were a chapter more, and Romans xiv, if ssiupte; less. The middle verse is Acts xvii, 17. The shortest verse is Jobn xi, 35. The middle chapter of the entire Bible is also the shortest—the 117th Psalm. The middle verse is the eighth of the 118th Pealm.—Er. Location of New Hospital for Criminal Insane. The State has been fortunate in the mat- ter of the site for the new hospital for the crimival insane. Fairview, the place se- lected, is in Wayne county, than which there in no more picturesqae county in Pennsylvavia. The site lies two thonsand feet above sea level, and contains six hun- dred and twenty-five acres, and, let ns record it to their credit, the officials of the D. & H. company, from whom it was bought, for once evinced a desire to act generously, the cost of the tract being only five dollars. Four bundred avd sixty- eight acres are already clesred an! contain a house and two barns, the rest being woodland. The is somewhat remote, but even that es it the more desirable. The farther from the crowded centres the criminal insane are taken the better it will be for the majority of the people. Natural- ly the D. & H. expects to get back more what i gaveaway through its charges for freight, express and and, as it has deals generously with the State, we ery a a ts teris to harry ¢ or building, eo that the criminal inmates of the other asylums can be taken out, thus relieving the disgracefally crowded condi- tions of the latter.— Phila. Inquirer. Just as He Thought. A small boy was reciting in a geogra) class. The teacher was BL fotnnty the points of the compass. explained : “On your right is the south, your left the north, and in lsu ef you is the east. is trimmings.” oTyinadiage 3 Ten T pens $6.00 an auto of the right tint to match ition Stylish Lady—Ob, dear, I've my lish Lady—Dit it bave money a were you just Ly {soli ne that I sball give some iofor- mation that will be new, even to the old- est and bess informed of my readers, writes Commander Peary, in Youth's Companion. | The north pole is the precise center of the | northera hewisphere of land, of popula i tion, of civilization. It i= the point where | the axis of the earth cats its surface. i It is the spos where there is no longitude, no time, uo north, no rast, no west—aonls ‘south. It is the place where rvery wind ; that hlows is a south wind. | Itis the place where there is but one | night and ove day in every year, where | from astrouomical midaight, It i« the spot from which all the heaven. | | Ig hodies appear to move in horizontal | courses and a star just visible ahove the horizoo never sets, hue circles forever, just | gazing the borizon. i More than this, the north pole is the last | geographical prize which the world bas to | offer to adventnrons men ; the prize for | which the best men of the strongest, most {enhgbtened, most adventurous uations of | the varth have heen struggling uusuccess- fully for nearly four centuries. Perhaps I should say a word or two in “xpianntion of my statement that there is ue tine a* the north pole. i What 1« the point from which we esti. ware time here ? It is noon, that i+, the woment when the san cro-ses the meridian | where we are, or some fixed meridian that | has been selected. At the pole there are | no meridians, or, rather, all the wendiavs of the globe are gathered in ove point, so i there is no starting point for time as we es. | timate it here. { Another point which should be made | clear is one on which a great many people | have an incorrect idea. That is, that the | north pole—the geographical pole—i« an | entirely different spot from the magnetic pole—the center of the magnetic attraction, where the compass is nseful. The latter is | some 1,600 milew south of the true north | pole, being located on or near the peninsn- la of Bootha Felix, the most northerly | mainland of North America, about on the meridian of Galveston. { At the north poie the compass with the proper correctness for variation is as trast. worthy as io other portions of the earth’s surface. The four things which, it may be | said, go to form the conception of the arctic | regions in the minds of most people, are | the cold, the darkness, the silence and hun- | ger. Almost invariably the first questions | asked me by the strangers are in regard to | those things, aod the questions are usually | in the order given above.—Pitlshurg Post. Japanese Tobacco. Attention is called to Everybody's by Charles Edward Russell, in an interesting instalment of ‘‘Soldiers of the Common i Good’’ to the recently established Japanese tobacco monopoly. He says : “These matters and the Japanese pur- poses become clearer if we take concrete | illustrations. Manufactured tobacco and | cigarettes, for instance. Once we enjoyed | au abundant trade with Japan in these | things, for we bad tanght her to want ' them, and then joyously we supplied her | want at high prices. Thus io the end Ja- | pan served copiously to swell the hard- enined treasuries of the Awerican tobacco { Truss, for the Japanese were industrious | consamers and the trust could charge what it pleased, having the trade hy the throat. But when the truss bad establifhed hranch houses and offices and works and invested in them $12,000,000, the Japanese wovern- ment concluded that it mightas well have the goodly profits as let the Tru