BE A AHS.
Bemorwiit iiatcne
m—
Bellefonte, Pa., April 16, 1909,
I wonder why I toil away,
My heart replies “For some one.”
Why think and work the livelong day ?
For some one, just for some one,
1 pressed along the crowed street,
1 hear the tramp of many feet,
But over all | hear the sweet,
Sweet little voice of some one,
For there is with me all the while
The presence fair of someone.
And thro’ my cloud there shines the smile,
The cheering smile of some one.
Hard is the toil and stern the fight,
But work is play and loads are light
And darkest days within are bright
When it is all for some one.
For what is life if lived for self ?
Without a thought tor some one ?
What zest in glee ? What gain in pelf?
Without a share for some one.
7 But there is wealth of countless price
A joy supreme in sacrifice,
And earth becomes a paradise,
When ft is all for some one,
UNCATALUGUED.
Veon came ont from the doctor's log
shanty, and sat down in the sunshine, his
face pale and his body shaking. Once he
held up his thin right band, and stared at
it, as is wavered and shook before his eyes.
Once he glanced across the road at his tent,
as Tillotson shambled in his direction ;
and, bad the man shown a disposition to
come nearer, Venn would have retreated to
ite thin shelter. Bus Tillotson, as aimless
in his walk as in his talk, tarned aside aod
shuffled down a ravine path ; and so Venn
eat, shaking, on his screened log, in the
brilliant Colorado sunshine, and tried so
make himeell believe that he had heard
aright, that she dootor bad not been talk-
ing blitherivg nonsense. His thin lips
twitohed and trembled, and bis dull eyes
stared straight ahead.
Dr. Wolcott, stepping from his cabin,
and sbatting the door behind him, caught
sighs of the thin, unsteady figure on the
balt-hidden log, and before he crossed the
beaten path toward the line of tents to vis-
is Billy Marks, dying, poor Jad, with his
fifth hemorrhage, he swerved a little from
his track, and came up bebind Venn, to
give his patient's shoulder a firm, gentle
*‘It’s nos too much for you, man?’ he
asked quietly.
Venn looked up with blurred eyes. “I'm
making a baby of myself, Woloost,”” he
said. *‘I think I could have stood the oth-
<er news better.”
“‘I want you to hurry things along,’’ re-
plied Wolcots, with cheery brevity. ‘‘You | had
came out bere expeoting to die, and a lung.
er-camp is a bit depressing, I grant. And
on were a pretty bad case to start with—
ah I don’t see how you've made
it! Bat you're getting well, irrefotably
well. If you wanted to, you could be
"bard at work right now on some of your
gaudy danbs. It'll do you good to stars in
Al, You see, man, you're gesting
v ooh too noch for Joe Jit lle, i
enn, brusquely. *‘I con ve drop,
into a lunger’s grave without makiog much
of » protest. I don’s deserve is,—I wasn’
making a fight,—and there's that oursedly
brave listle Marks—"'
‘‘He’s got a wife back Eass,’’ said Wol-
cots. ‘‘I’ve a fancy he’s holding on to life
in the bare hope that some miracle will
somehow bring ber to him, for there's no
money for her to come ont on. I'd send
for her mysell if I could, but I've done
that twice lately —to rave life ; and while
I'm paid ten times over, I juat can’t do it
#0 soon again simply for she comfers of a
doomed man.”
Veon's band went swiftly into his pook-
eb. “Here,” he «nid roughly. ‘It's my
4 $s eons last, I said “ils wors-
when I opened she letter. it,
and nse what you need, and hand me
what's lefs. I can sorape along. If he’s
gos a wile, he ought to have ber with him,
poor devil! You could telegraph is so-
night to her, couldo’s you ?'"’
“Jackson drove over to the station to-
day,” «aid Wolcott, *‘and he’s not back
yes. He'll bave to uee the same horse
again, bus there's no time to lose. This is
decent of you, Venn. I'll send Jackson
back tonight, after he and his horse bave
bad Rte 10 _ up . hit. Mi news
ought to y y up for a few days—
long enough for her to ges here. I'll wais
$0 tell him till we hear from her—Jaokson
can wait over night for her telegram.’
He shook hands with Venn, and Venn
blasbed like a criminal, after the fashion
g Rh then Woloost passed on,
Venn to his dizzy musings.
Life, lite! His again! He bad given
=shove, and with sleep and food. He bad
langhed in bitter mirth over a box which
bad ym, holding i brushes, can-
© wages, to nt, a parapherualia,
which Cossett, thinking to be kind,
, regardless of Venn’s
ything with him, and
Venn
i
:
ir
£
8
HL
£
wife, and wanted her, and she wanted him,
it was worse than death il they couldn’s
bave each other for the time that was lef
them.
He realized at lass that he was still hold-
ing the black pocket-hook from which he
bad taken the cheok which he bad passed
over to Wolcott ; that be had been staring
at its leather sides till his eyes were water-
ing, not from emotion, but from simple
overstrain, He knew that be bad been
thinking of many, many things, but he put
his crowding thoughts resolutely aside, and
began to fuss over the pocket-book before
he put it away.
Aud suddenly his straying fingers, as
idle as a child’s, touched a tiny, two-hy-
four inch pamphlet, and the world, whioh
for six long months had been for almost
every moment dan and sordid and terrible,
blossomed at that magic sonch into a bean-
ty which was pain. Inspiration to live
and work roshed on him from every shrub,
every massive rock, every cloud. A bird
was poised in the brilliant blue above him,
an embodied song, a miracle. Even Tillot-
son's ungainly, plodding figare in the dis.
tance reemed pure poetry, because is held a
marvelous ego, because it was life, life,
lite !
He drew out the tiny book and opened it
with fingers which trembled again. Cos-
sets had sent it to him two days ago ; the
pictures it catalogued were to follow. They
had proved good friends, fine comrades,
those boys back yonder, all of them. They
bad faithfully written him all the gossip of
the studios and the town happenings ; bad
him bits of sketches and scrawle of verse
and rough-hewn blockings of figurines and
fountains, and all maoner of designs from
facades tokeys and hinges. They had
done their level-bess, those good fellows,
to keep his spirits up, and keep him io
touch with the world so far to the East.
They bad taken his silences for what they
were, deliberate simulations ol indifference
and had vot noticed them. At last, because
in one of his brief letters, he bad growled
out a protest against being deprived of the
fellows’ private views, the had done this
thing. The catalogue bad come from Cos-
sett, with a letter explaining its absurdi-
ties. Since he could not see their latest
work in all ite conceded grandeur, Cossest
told him, they were sending the mountain,
slightly pared, to their good brother Mo-
bhammed. While the art-gallery itself was
making its leisnrelv way to him, he might
enjoy a ocarelul study of their specially de-
signed catalogue. They besought tender-
ness of attitnde toward their work, implor-
ed that the critical faculty, when it involv.
ed adverse oriticism, wight be sternly re-
pressed, and that their efforts to please
might be viewed through the lenient eyes
of the heart. If he missed some fine el-
fects he might look for, he muss lay it to
the fact that on canvases limited in area
from one to six inches square, some fine-
ness bas to be sacrificed to ‘‘broad”’ treat-
ment ; and il, on the other hand, be missed
breadth, he must remind himsell that on
such a canvas even a Monet must paint
with eyelaches. At all events, the boys
done their best by the ‘‘Midget
Exbhibis,”” and old Venn was to sake it
and make its his.
So this afternoon old Venn sat, humbled,
reading over the tities of the paintings, and
watching eagerly for the first sight of
Jackson coming along the far, far road.
Perbaps Jackson might be hearing to him
even now the ‘Midget Exhibit.” He was
wild.so see ib) hi all bas fretful with
eagerness mpatience.
*“The Model —in pastel—E. Reid.” Reid
had never dabbled in pastel before. Venn
wondered what the prodact would be like.
‘“A Nocturne in A Flat—Buster Wape.”
Veon grinned. He could imagine what
Baster would make of suoh a subject, so
Whistlerian is sound. ‘‘From Cossett’s
Window—Harry Meier.” That dear old
window, every changing view of whioh
Venn loved to homesickness, which he and
Cossett bad shared for the last four balf-
way-bhappy years. ‘*American Beauties ;
“The Star" ; “The Ballet’ ; *‘The Crow’ ;
“The Moon’ ; *‘A Poster” ; ‘‘A Royal
Flush’’—Veon groaned with eagerness.
This all meant something to him now, after
Wolcott's words this afternoon. He had
not cared for any of it before,—not a
picayune.
At the end there was a poem. No need
to tell him that Buster wrote is ;
there was the very swing of Buster's rest-
less legs in the meter ; be could fairly hear
Buster's beautiful clog to the patpat of the
fellows’ hands as be read [for the second
time in lacs, bus the first time in feeling,
the foolish verses :
This Midget
Exhibit
We're sending you
Where coyotes howl
For their grub that’s due
Sinoe you stick to
The dost,
‘Where the skies bend blae,
And the gold doth russ
In the west-end pot
Of that rainbow game
We all are chasing.
It it’s all the same
To you, old man,
We're sending is
In size not much,
From Meier's ‘‘Datoh
Paul Venn, to yon
With a bowdy-do.
And a round hundred of them—one huoo-
dred Sofiia, nonsensical bits of master-
eces
Venn got up from his log, and walked a
og | bis of the way down the road. He shaded
Bus eyss with is bands, and stared down
8, enly whooped a joyful w
Jackson was coming, hot on the I.
Veon trembled. to shink how sore a thing
his disappointment was to be if the *‘Mid-
laughed delightedly as the thought
Sisuspeinted in anything again.
delicious, miraculous, to care about things,
to be wild with eagerness, maddened as
the bare thought of disappointment. He
was aware in that moment that he had
the objecting Jackson. “For Heaven's
sake ! move on. I want to open this thing
rights here.”
He pushed it out of the road into a sunny
hollow, and pried as the cratiogs until be
wrenched them off from the flat,
square box. Beneath, in their safe wrap.
pings, lay four oblong, grayish green, bhar-
lapped ‘‘wall,”” with swenty-five pictares
to a ‘‘wail,”” nambered to correspond with
the tiny catalogue which he still held.
“ ‘Paul Venn, to you, witha howdy-
do!" he wuttered as he struggled with
the wrappings and twine. The nonsense
of it, and the delight, to see she living,
vital work of these good friends on such a
day in his life when all the earth and air
was throbbing with life and the joy of liv-
ing!
For a long bour he poured over them,
lingering over one panel absurdly long be-
fore be laid is aside to take np another.
Harry Meier's greens and subdued blnes
were pever so glancons ; his faded rose
tints and dead-yellow golds and dall vio-
lets shone with the luster of faded gems.
Abhott’s “Crow,” in black and white chalk
on blue paper, with its full effect of lights
and shade—how Abbott bad grown!
Eliot's “Temple,”’ with its marble stepa,
through the first layer of tiansparency of
which the eye sunk marvelourly to the
bard substance ! Lannert’s picture in
white and roddy copper tones, of a white-
gowned, red-haired girl standiog againet
some rosty chrysanthemoms! Page's
*‘Star,”” after Fortuny, perbaps, but the
coloring was Page's own ! Murray's land-
scape—Murray, who painted only the
stream and the moonlighted nighs,
Venn picked ap the lass panel, just for a
passing survey. He was surfeited pow
with delights. He wanted to save a part
of this, fresh and new, for another day,
for the next morning, when be was to
waken to a glorious day, to life, instead of
life-in-deash. His wakiogs had been the
hardest moments of his sodden existence
during these last six months. Just a quick
glance, and be wounld lay this lass one
aside for to-morrow’s joyful pleasure.
He bent low, with a smothered ory.
From out the centre of the panel av un-
catalogued pictore flashed upas him, an
unnumbered ove. A landscape this ;a
sweep of sea deeply purple, a sky stained
with clouds hot and cold as only the even-
ing knows bow fo blend them, and from
one olond, far out to sea, a storm of rain,
falling in a plome of miss !
Paoting, appalled, incredulous, and yes
undoabting, he drew back. If be bad not
recognized the subject, he must have
known instantly the distinctive handling
of the medium, and if he bad been blind
to the smothered b>ldness of execution, he
could never have ignored the subjeot—that
purple sea, those clonds hot and cool, that
plume of misty, scourging rain ; a sight on
which his eyes and hers had feasted that
summer night six years ago.
And yet how had Cossets dared accep it,
or demand it—shat contribution to this
kindly gallery ! Is could have been no ao-
cident ; no one would choose, save for a
gifs exhibision such as this, to paint sucha
oanvas six inches square. He bent close
and gazed hroaingly at the texture of the
canvas. It was the quality she loved, if
that detail were needed to confirm indenti-
fication absolute in subject and and treas-
ment. But why that subject, that one
moment of all eternity—wby bad it been
caught and prisoned here !
Staggered, blinded by the strange dis.
covery, Venn looked no further, but me-
Shanisally padeed the
took the by its rope, and went stupidly
back to the camp. How had it come to be !
He pat the new art-galiery in his tens,
and then he went down to thas log of bie,
where he spent many of bis afternoons,
close to camp, and yet soreened from is,
and tried to think the thing ous. Bus trom
the otart he fels is to be wauvexplainable.
Cossett should have written him something
of it ; yet Cossett knew too well the seal of
silence which Venn had placed on thas
pars of his life to dare to break it carelessly
—those two years whiob interro briel-
ly their lives together, his and t's.
No, Cossett would not write, would not
dare to write, of that shut chapter in
Venn's life. And yes he bad boldly dared
to put in that uncatalogued painting ; he
was the only man, Venn would ewear, who
knew of its on the panel. The
aot seemed mysterious, full of subtle mean.
ing ; and yet what meaning could there be,
exoept thas, hearing of his plight,—Venn
knew they all expeoted him to die, and
thas right scon,—she had Ewe sifal.
His face flushed darkly. He would not
take pity, or kindly feeling, even from her;
of all things be would not accept pity or
kindlinese. Not once during all these
months while he was facing death night
and day bad he wished for her, cared for
sight of her. He had been glad to know,
so finally, that be no longer missed her,
nor desired her. his
ga
story of the man’s passion for bis art,
his devoted, pagan adherence to his prin-
ciples, his firm resolve to avoid commer-
cialism as be would some loathsome plague,
oppored to the woman's passionate ein
854 Jouuiug lot Suttu, 35 abe abs) suo-
cess. And when one added to all this the
pregoant fact that the bitter question of
money lay io the woman's favor, the inev-
Ralls wud’ hadieone in bittrad asd uoort
es,
wondered today, as he bad wonder-
in these four years, why
bad ever sought a divorce.
enough to the oth-
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“‘Divorce is unutterably mon,’ Mu.
a ep ei
one 3 enoug! to
any woman. If you ever wish the divorce,
it is yours.”
*‘I never bad mach ap} sion of a man who
ness, but inward bitterness whioh
rankled on each hears for many months.
- 3a love you aa him, the
were ,
times think I you now, but I did love
you once. The memory of thas is all shat
gives me back my sell- in the face
of this wreck we have e of things. You
may think more kindly ol me sometimes,
remembering that.’’
Venn stared gloomily ahead of him.
yard- |
panels together, and | 9
Yes, she bad loved him once as devotedly
as he had loved her. Even though she
hated him now, she had loved him once.
Since the day she uttered those words, he
bad bard!y thought of them, for the bister-
ness of their last year together had all bat
wiped out the memories of their first one.
But she bad loved him once, as he had
worshiped her. After the glory bad faded
and the dream bad died, he bad gone back
to Cossett, to foree success to come to him,
Aod is bad come, quick and strong of step,
and bad stayed by him, until this dread
disease bad caught him and cast bim down,
and buried him out here, to empty contem-
plation of the voids of space. And she had
zone to Paris to study, and sucoess had
come to her across she ocean which sepa:
rated them, the depths of which were not
so deep as the gull of bitter resentment
which parted their spirits.
Bat for a brief space they had loved.
How was it thas such love as theirs bad
been could perish so utterly? A memory
of that purple sea rose before him as vivid
as the tiny painting of ir, the sea which
they bad watched together ou the Maine
coast on the evening of their wedding day,
with its staining clouds and is plume of
rain far ous to sea. How had it come to he
there on any one of these four panels?
Was it tempered kiodliness, or pisy, or
Cossett’s solicitation, or Cossett’s demand
Venn got slowly up from bis log, and
walked up to his tens. Is was all but
dusk, and almost supper time, and bed-
time followed quickly. He saw Jackson
already eating a quick sapper before he
should start back on bis long return ride
to send the telegram and the money to Bil-
ly Mark’s wile. His wile! Veon’s heart
throbbed quickly. To die that way, if she
might bus reach him in time—Billy might
call himself blessed.
He found himself in his tent at lass, hav-
ing followed so far the impulse which bad
driven him from his ruminative log, aod
he followed further impulse by dragging
she box out again, and taking up the fourth
pauel, only one of the pictures of which he
bad seen. It stared up at him again, in
the light of the fast-dying day, that purple
sen. Its message—ite message! Is had
one. If it were not big with portens, it
would not have been sent to the dying man
they all thonght him. She was so proud,
but she would bend in pity to a dying
man. Veon’s face flushed again, and hie
stang pride began to rise ; bus with a
spasm of sense he crushed it down. *‘You
fool, you fool I” he told himself. ‘Sindy
it out ; study it out, you fool !"
Slowly his band went ous toward the ti-
ny canvas, lastened by thumb-nails acd
small rings to the sofs, light wood of the
panel. He took out the nails and lifted it
off and turned its back to him. When he
saw the writing, he knew that he had ex-
pected to find the message there. His
breath came quickly as he bent to read :
I have eaten your bread and salt ;
I have drunk your water and wine;
The deaths ye died I have watched beside ;
And the lives that ye led were mine.
Venn raised his head at last at the soond
of a quick voice near him. He was amaz-
ed to find it was dark. Dusk came guiok-
ly here; it did nos steal im ptibly
along, but he bad nos not The
voice was Woloott’s.
‘‘Stay in over night, Jackson, and come
out in the morning with the answer. It's
a hard trip to take twice; but when a
man’s got a wife who cares, he ought to
have ber out here. So ges the message off
nokly.”
Bot did she?
“A wile who oares!”
Was is merely pity because he was dying
alone? And il is were love still, he oonld
not reach her save through others, to tell
her thas two people who had loved once as
they had loved were tools, fools, to les any-
thing in all the mighty universe come be-
tween them, let alone the pettiest impuls-
es of their lower natures.
He stepped quickly to the door. *‘Wol-
cots !"” he called sharply. “Have Jaok-
won wait, I want to send a telegram in
by him.”
He taroed back and snatobed up pencil
and paper. He could not send is to Mu-
riel ; it must go to Cossets. Thank God
for a good friend ! He wrote it with reck-
less d of words and rates. and he
marked it ‘Rosh !" instead of sending it
as an unimportant night message.
‘Jf it's pity because I'm dying, no matier.
If it's more, wire address.”
Cossett would understand thas, he knew.
He handed is to Jackson, and watched him
break into his favorite dash down the road;
then be turned to hear patiently Wolcott's
vivid comments on his nerve tension and
slight fever.
“I talked to you today to make youn
brace up in sweet peace,” he eaid ourtly.
“Il suid you Jour apps: Bors: . want
you to @ ea tonight. on
Se —— » ” y
“I'll sleep,” said Venn, obediently.
And in very truth bedid.
Jackson came back the mext morning
with two telegram, One was for Venn
from Cossett. ‘‘Am Writing. read Ia-
oconiocally, and Venn pus is bim
d tment. The other was from
ly k's wife. She would be as the
tion twenty miles away on Wednesday af-
terncon
The next few days dragged
iog length along. Venn took what walks
he might to kill sime, and when Woloots
and she norses allowed it, he dropped in to
see Billy. That helped shem both a little.
i
smiling gladly up as Venn.
to weatber it till she comes. And shen,
alter we've seen each other again, and bave
the ohance we've prayed for to say the few
things we want to say, why, then the bur-
den of pain won't he so heavy. I wonder
where got the money. Perbaps ber
bard old father loosened up at she last
minute. It doesn’s matter; she's coming." | Britai
Another time Venn wandered in aimless.
ly, to be greeted witha wave of Billy's
“How is be?” he asked Wolcott, ner-
nously.
““The pluckiess beggar you ever saw,”
Wolcott said brusquely, as be always
spoke when be was greatly moved. ‘‘He's
going to make it, and they may have a
blessed week or two or three together be-
fore the certain end. It's a sight like shis,
Veno, that makes the most hardened of us
clear-sighted moderns almost believe that
spirit reachs oat to spirit, and sostains—
and follows—across the grave.”
All morning Venn wandered nervously
about. Once or swice he glanced in on
Billy's glorified face and at lass, because
he could no: hear she sight of such bappi-
ness in the face of his own pitifal loaeli-
ness aod accnsation of spirit, he put the
camp bebind him, and strode ous to what
bad come to be his haven, the dead log
sank in the ravine along the road. By
this time Mary should have come ; it was
past the time for the Eastern express. By
now she should be well started with Jaok-
won on the agovizingly long drive from the
station to the camp. Just hefore he fled
into solitude he bad cast one glance in at
Billy, and he could not ges the picture out
of his mind, as he saw him then, with his
hrave face turned at last to the wall, the
bester to pass these final hours.
Venn passed them, too, in fear and sns.
pense, sitting doggedly upon his log be-
hind his screen of andergrowth., He was
still there when he heard the swift roll of
wheels at last, and saw Jackson drive by
with his passengers, two women, one tall
and composed, holding fast to her the small,
shivering body of the other. The latter he
knew for Mary, for Billy had desoribed
| her many times with great detail, and al-
ways reiterated the fact of her tininess,
“Its a good thing somebody came with
her,”” Venn reflected nervously. ‘It was
, a carsed trip for her.” He swore gently
: at the stinging wetness of his eyes over the
thought of that glorified meeting between
those two, who had never known a cloud
in their heaven, who bad alwaye loved.
*‘I daresay Cossett couldn't write so
20on,”’ he reflected, with added gloom.
‘‘And it he did, Jackson wouldn't have
waited to-day, of all days, for the mail to
he sorted out.”
His hand wens down mechanically into
his pooket, as it bad gone many, man
times, after the hundred and first painting,
the uncatalogued stray, the one which
needed veither name nor signatare—the
tiny streak of purple sea, and cloud, and
falling rain. He took it from its rough
wrappings, to look again upon the work of
Muriel’s band, every stroke of which he
knew by now. Bat he turned it quickly
over, as he always did, to read avd re-read
the firm inscription on its back :
I have eaten your bread and salt;
I have drunk your water and wine;
The deaths ye died I have watched beside;
And the lives that ye led were mine.
More and more was he feeling the Reeb-
ing reaching of his spirit after hers. e
and she bad loved. False loves mighs die
and be no more, but theirs had been love.
It was right, after all heir bitter pain and
stifl- necked pride, thas both should doubt
and be fearful ; bus is was righs, too, that
they should les the spiris of all love teach
them as lat ; that they should les their
in and their bitter pride melt away and
no more. This message must mean
something, a brave, loyal something from
ber : he could not, would not, call it were-
ly pity until he knew that he muss call it
that, in spite of Cossett’s onrt telegram, in
spite of all the mystery.
The deaths ye died I have watched beside;
Avnd the lives that ye led were mine.
He looked up from the written message
to see Muriel | She was coming with Wol-
cots, down the path from Billy Mark’s
tens. He stared like a man gone drunk,
with no power to move or to ory ous. This
was Cossett’s answer—Muriel ! Her olear
voice came to him, piercingly swees,
through the thin, fine air :
“You must not tell him, Dr. Wolcott.
Youn muss let me find bim. Things bave
not gone well with us for a long time. I
must be the first to see him when he
knows. If he were dying, like poor Ma-
ry's boy back there, I wonld yield. Baus
you tell me it is life I have come to grees,
not death ; that all the years lie before us.
I must be the first to see him when he
knows—"'
Her throat closed against all speech as
ig saw him shbivg He a stone man upon
savotoary log. He staggered to
feet, and for a space they stood, reading
together the answer he had wrenohed quiv-
eriog from his life-in-death. And then,
regardless of all things save love only, with
the swiftness of a spirit, she came to him.
—By Edoa Kenton, in Century Magazine.
——Do you know where to get your
garden seeds in packages or by measure,
Bechler & Co.
Women in Darkest America.
The status of women in the United States
as regards the municipal (r1avchise is a dies-
Our bragging about ‘‘our inetitu-
founded upon invividual representa-
juny Ye eard avon us globe, aod
only -spea na-
the face of it that does not give
a vote in municipal affairs.
a proud gion! Their English.
speaking sisters in Australia and New Zea-
land bave the complete suffrage exactly as
men have is. In Great Britain they bave
vote except that for members of Par-
aod that is not far off. Io the
provinces of Canada they bave the munioi-
pal franchise. The International Congress
of Liberal Religions, whiob mes in Boston
Fall, was attended by many eminent
es
g
-
Englishmen, and all ex amazement
that women have not a m vote
without exception gave the highest testi.
mony as to its lent results in Great
n.
Daring recen paign in Oregon
So a
women
in hand. *‘It ’s fifty-one hours ” he votes for it appealed to the
said gaily. ‘‘After > below a Norw Swedes and Finns in the sal-
mark, time ’11 go like lightning—won’s is ? | mon es. ‘You'd hetter convert
—till the lass five or ten. I’m nos count- | your own men,’’ was the answer; “in our
ing the time she's on the road from the
station, becanse somehow it seems like
she’ll be right here hy me the minute she
steps off the train. My God ! how I wans
to tell ber what she’s done lor me, to make
me olean and decent enough to face death
without too muoh whimpering | We've
been married six years, Venn, and over
with never a clond, never a quarrel. Ah,
bat it's been swees I"
Venn’s hands clenched and unclenched
a a Jarge against shat
mind, writ that
purple sea. Six years !| With never a
quarrel !| The memory of a life well spent
and wisely ! And this at its end—the
1 some- | swilt coming of the loved one, both of them
too uplifted io the thought of meeting to
think too hitterly of the part which
must be. He felt his eyes dimming, and
Bega up wasily; and stumbled Soward
oor.
When Wednesday morning dawned he
was almost the first one astir.
country we have already given a vote to
women.’”” Even a native. Chinaman,
when promising them bis vole, said he
could not nuderstand why American men
would not enfranchise their women.
So determined is this country not to put
any political power in the hands of wom-
en, thas not even in those States where ro.
called sohool suffrage has been granted, do
they have the full vote on all matters son-
neoted with the schools that is in possession
of the most t and depraved men.
~Ida H arper in the February De-
lineator.
~——Do you know we have the old style
sagar eyraps, pore goods at 40 cents and
80 cents per gallon, Bechler & Co.
—There is a lighthouse on every 14
miles of coasts in England, to every 34
miles in Ireland and to every 39 miles in
Scotland. .
Chuich Socials,
Two lads of the day sapply basic ideas
on which to build social rs that may
be easily and snocessfully managed as
church gatherings for young people. They
are especially adapted for such a purpose
because, first, every one in the church may
be interested; second, every one can take
part; and, third, in one of them, at least,
every person presents will be remembered.
UTILIZING POST-CARDS FOR A SOCIAL.
Send out post-cards bearing a picture of
the church, and, printed beneath it, an in-
vitasion to be present as a Poss-Card Social,
stating the time and place, and thas ‘‘one
souvenir post-card other than shins will be
the admission fee.”
The card required as an admission fee is
retarned at once to the person presenting
it, with the instruction to address it to some
person in the room and then drop it into
the postoffice. Pen and iok are to be found
at a table marked ‘‘Addressing-Tahle.””
Tie postoffice me; be formed by stretching
white muslin aroand four uprights as many
fees apart as space permits. A window
shoald beout iu one side for ‘‘General
Delivery” aud a slot below for the mailing
of the cards.
Have souvenir cards ou sale so that per-
sons desiring to send more cards than one
may purchase them. At a given signal
the office is closed to sort the mail and
stamp each card with the words, “Souvenir
Post-Card Sovial,’’ with the date. A rub-
ber stamp for this purpose will be inex-
pensive. While this is being done a pro-
gram of about thirty minates in length
may be given, and at its close every one is
requested to call for his or her mail, If
there proves to be no card in the mail for
the inquirer, one from a stock provided for
the purpose should be secretly and quickly
addressed, stamped, and then delivered.
This social may be given in anotber form
for a smaller company by saying on the in-
vitation, ‘This card with an unused card
bearing some scene with which you are
familiar will admit yon to our Souvenir
Post Card Social.”
Display about the rooms cards from as
many Siates as possible, with titles hidden.
Place schools, postoffices, parks, mountains,
eto., in groups, and number each card.
Y | Number one of the evening’s program may
be a contest in recognizing these views, the
prizes being souvenir cards saying, ‘‘First
prize, awarded for recognition of the largess
number of American post card views, at
~—8ouvenir Post-Card Social.”
Number two of the program may bea
railroad luncheon, furnishing the refresh-
ments usoally served at a railroad restan-
rant in hasty, luncb-counter style, the men
escorting the women assigned them by
matohing daplicate cards of invitation.
This can be provided for when these cards
are sent oat. They are to be presented at
the door and immediately returned when
the guests enter.
Number three of the program consists in
paying the luncheon bill—thas is, trans.
forming a blank card into a poses bya
pencil sketob of a given subject suited to
some holiday or festal occasion. These are
placed on exhibition for the amusemens of
the guests.
Another way of wavagivg one ol these
socials is to have for admission fee a post.
card upon which each woman places ber
initials, and each man places his with an
announcement of some current event. The
cards are collected and jodged for certain
merits : the prettiest scenery, the funniess,
the most interesting building, the best por-
trait, and so on. The judges may vary the
qualities for which prizes are due accord
ing to the kinds of carde received. An
elaborate prize might be a poss-card album,
and a simple one an unosed card.
Later in the eveuing the men call at the
toffice and each receives a card banded |
0 by one of the women, and they are pars. |
ners for refreshments. Afterward the wom- |
en call at the postoffice, and then converse
with the men whose oarde they receive on
the current evens indicated.
WHY NOT A CHURCH ‘SHOWER ?"
While the brides-to-be are reveling in
‘‘showere’’ of household utensils, why nos
use the same idea for the dining room of
thechuroh? The institutional church bas
need of many shings, to be equipped for
its suppers and occasions when it is
obliged to entertain conventions. The fol-
lowing rhyme appeared in a oburch bul-
letin, and the home of one of its members
was opened for the guests. The members
of the society giving it served fruit, ice
oream, coffee and cake.
Of all new pleasures under the ‘sun,
Since ever the cycle of time begun,
A chance to do good and have some fun
Is surely at a church shower.
The ( ) Ladies’ Ald
Of nothing on earth are they afraid,
This delightfully happy plan have made
Of holding a church shower.
So many things we need, you see,
That quite a heavy expense "twould be,
So we'll give you a chance to help a wee,
By coming to our church shower,
Then come with your presents large or small
Tea and welcome await you all ;
Or give us your number, we'll gladly eall,
For the good of our church shower.
Any of the following articles will be ao-
ceptable :
Salts aod peppers, vinegar bottles, table.
cloths, tablespoons, oreamers and sugar.
howls, ele Sidhe, inaardishen on
8, kettles, pans, dishpan, pails (large),
silver koives aud forks, curtains, tea.
towels, towel.rack, boiler, kitoher range,
salad-dishes, teapot of good size, tamblers,
pie-plates, dustpans.
Another way to nse the shower idea is
larly adapted for the removal of a
and | small debt incurred by repairing a
roof. The people are invited toa
evening for which a program has been pre.
pared, and asked to bring their drops of
rain for the shower of money in asilk
provided with the attractively worded
printed invitation. When the time
on the program comes each bag is dropped
into an inverted decorated umbrella sus-
ed from the oeiling.—By Virginia
uot,
——Do you know we have the old #iyle
sugar syrups, pure goods at 40 cents and
60 cents per gallon, Sechler & Co.
—— Whenever a critic wants 10 say some-
thing scathing about a play he calls is
melodrama.
———Do you know where to get the finest
canned goods and dried fruits, Seohler &
Co.
~The first English regatta took place
a the Thames, between London
oe Millbank, ; oy 23rd, 1775. Bridge
~——Do you know that you can ges the
finest oranges, banaunas and grape fruit,
and pine apples, Sechler & Co,