a ane
5 I SL A SNR.
a ee s—— r———— A 32 SU SS SS IAA 01 5,8
Bellefonte, Pa., May 13, 1910.
THE STRANGE CASE OF A HEW LOVE
The married life between Clarence
Hooper and Edna Worth was very
bappy. When they were united Clar-
ence was twenty-one and Fdna oloe-
teen. Ten years later the husband
was obliged to make a business trip
to Russia. His wife beiug iu delicate
health at the time, it was not deemed
vest that she should accompany him.
From Russia Clarence wrote often to
his wife, at times mentioning in glow-
ing terms a certain prima donoa, Velt-
volsky, a Russian Pole. He was not
aware that there wax anything said
in these letters to lead his wife to be-
lieve that his feeling for the singer
was anything more than friendship.
She did not write hin that she was
jealous of his new found friend. In-
deed, she never mentioned the singer
in any of her letters. When bis and
the singer's paths diverged be ceased
to mention her in his letters.
One day he received a cablegram
from his wife's busom friend, Sarab
Ingalls, that Mrs. Hooper bad been
caught in one of those terrible railroad
accidents which kill and maim so many
people and had been crushed to death.
He had seen an account of the acci-
dent the day before cabled to an Eng-
lish paper, but did not dream of his
wife having been on the train.
A death of one very dear to us in
the events of which we do not par-
ticipate personally is very different
from one where we are present. Clar-
ence Hooper could not realize that his
wife was dead. It was only when he
returned to his desolate home that his
bereavement appeared to him as a
reality, and then it rushed upon him
with its full force. No children bad
come to them to impart life or cheer-
fulness to the companionless man.
Nevertheless he remained in the home
where he had been so happy. morbidly
dwelling upon his loss. The lady from
whom he had received the cablegram
announcing his wife's death bad gone
abroad, crossing him op the ocean.
She had, however, left a letter for him
giving all she knew of the circum-
stances attending his wife's death. It
was not much, since no one living bad
seen her killed and the body was un-
recognizable, but stated that she had
buried the remains in his lot at the
cemetery. He would find the grave
near the center of the lot.
Hooper's first act after his return
was to visit his wife's grave and shed
bitter tears there. The remainder of
his life seemed a dreary waste before
him. He had had his one love, it had
passed from him, and he would never
have another. A few days after this
he opened his wife's will. He was sur-
prised to notice a codicil added during
his absence abroad leaving the In-
cowe of certain property to Sarah In-
galls, who had been his informant as
to the testator's death. The reason
Hooper was surprised at this be-
quest was because Sarah Ingalls was
wealthy. Moreover, this legacy halved
his own income from his wife's prop-
erty.
It was winter when all this occurred,
and as soon as spring opened Hooper
went to the cemetery for the purpose
of putting plants about his wife's
grave. What was his astonishment to
discover that the adornment he had
intended was there already. It con-
sisted of rosebushes of a variety that
his wife had loved and had kept in
their conservatory during the winter
season.
Standing there beside the grave of
the woman he bad loved so well a
tumult of suspicions, conjectures pour-
ed in upon him. The events of his
married life passed before him in re-
view as they are said to pass in-
stantaneously before one who is
drowning. He bad known his wife
since they were children. and this
sweep of memory went so far back
as their first love, and he wondered
if any one then had been his rival
Next be considered those she had
known when they were young men
and women. From there he passed
to those who might have come be-
tween them since they had been mar-
ried. Among all these he could not
remember a single person who could
have filled the place he had for years
considered he alone could fill.
Hooper was stirred by deep emotion.
His wife had been an orphan with no
brothers or sisters—indeed. no relatives
in whom she had taken an interest or
who had taken any interest in her.
Sarah Ingalls had been the only being
except himself that she had loved and
by whom she had been loved. Yet here
was some one who had forestalled him
in caring for her grave. Was this un-
known person man or woman? If a
man, had he loved her before or after
her marriage? Had that love been re-
turned? This last thought maddened
him.
ule turned away with a groan ex-
pressive partly of grief, partly of an-
ger. Why had Edoa never spoken of
this person? A woman she would cer-
tainly have mentioned. a man she
might have mentioned, a lover she
would not likely have mentioned, and
a lover whose love she returned she
would never have made known.
Such was the reasoning by which
Clarence Hooper persuaded himself
that his dead wife had loved some man
and, loving that man, she could never
bave loved her husband. Doubtless
some obstacle had intervened between
them to prevent a marriage, or, what
was worse, she had met the unknown
—— —
after she had become a wife. Hooper
i inflicted upon himself a succession of
' such torturing hypotheses and when
i they had been all applied began again
and went through the process anew.
| Ome day Hooper saw in a paper that
| Veltvolsky was coming to America tv
sing In opera. The thought that he
might meet her again was pleasant to
him. When she arrived he went to
the metropolis where she was singing
and called upon her. He told her of
his bereavement, and she sympathized
| With him. With kindly tact she di-
| verted his mind. When she had time
to spare from study and rehearsals
they drove out together. Hooper was
a frequent attendant at the opera
house where Veltvolsky sang, and
evenings when she didn’t sing he fre-
quented her apartments. He confided
to her his discovery that some one
who had loved his wife was caring for
her grave. The prima donna deprecat-
ed his fears that his wife had bad a
lover, explaining the episode by the
supposition that the unknown friend
was some poor creature whom the
dead had befriended. This tempora-
rily at least relieved his mind.
Hooper was seen so much at the
opera, applauded so enthusiasticaily.
drove so often with Veltvolsky and
| spent so much time in ber apartments
that the little coterie of singers at last
began to connect her name with his iu
a more tender connection than friend.
ship. Then one day he saw a notice
in a newspaper that the prima donna
was to marry an American gentleman
whom she had met in Russia shortly
before her visit to the United States.
Hooper was naturally very angry at
the publication of this bit of informa-
tion, which had not been authorized
He went to the office of the paper con:
taining it and complained. He wax
shown the manuscript of the item
which had come in from an unknown
person. He did not recognize the
name signed to it as belonging to any
one he knew. Nevertheless there
was something about the handwriting.
which was evidently a woman's, that
was familiar to him. It looked like au
unsuccessful attempt at disguise. Ie
could not divest himself of the feel
ing that he had known the writer or
had at least seen her handwriting.
When the opera season came to a
close Hooper went to his home. The
first thing he did after his return was
to visit his wife's grave. He did so
with mingled emotions, among which
was a desire to see If there was any
further evidence of the unknown friend
or lover.
He found the grave strewn with
fresh cut flowers. A cry escaped him
Had the grave been desecrated he
would have been enraged. This token
of an unknown affection filled him
with agony.
The mystery, with its distressing at-
tendant conditions, began to wear so
upon the widower that he feared they
might unbalance his brain. Could be
have found a clew to work on his in-
vestigations ‘would have been a relief
i
:
:
i
s
£
i
sE5S
i
£gF
untry, and there he followed
He told her that through her, and
alone, he couid secure comfort
receive a love that had
but which she could warm
life?
Then she confessed that sbe had
loved him during their meeting in Rus-
sia and had loved him ever since
“But, knowing that you had a wife.”
she added, “whom you loved | gave
no sign. I only feared that you might
be drawn from her to me. You were
unconscious of your danger.”
Then Hooper remembered the men-
E12EE
i:
i
:
:
A
i
:
3
HH
if
t
§
:
od
2
4
to Europe with her before you re-
turned. 1 did this to give you every
opportunity to win your new love, she
whom I see with you. I have devoted
myself to bringing you together. Teo
suggest to you the fact that you loved
I wrote the item that prematurely an
nounced your engagement. [ have
known of your every movement ard
have calmly awaited this result.
and I will aid you to get it.”
Six months from that time Hooper
had divorced his wife and married his
new love.
An Odd Wish.
A studen’ at a techical school in
Boston who had too frequently asked!
leave of absence offered on one occa-
sion as a reason the necessity of
tending the funeral of a cousin.
“Well,” said the doubting instructor
“I suppose 1 must let you go. but 1 do
wish it were a nearer relative.”—Lin-
pincott’e.
Go |
and make your application for divorce
A Stage Performance That Took Place
Under Difficulties. |
In an article on barnstorming in the |
Wide World Magazine I’. R. Eaton de-
scribes a performance which took
place under certain difficulties. |
There had been an ice cream sociable
just prior to our arrival in the hall,
and no one had cleaned the stage.
Mac bad a new pair of broedeloth |
trousers and my scarlet tunic, also |
new. When a shot was fired he was
to fall and before dying confess that |
he had killed old Fitzgerald. |
The juvenile down front was not to
speak till Mac bad fallen and con- |
fessed. There he stood while Mac |
staggered about the stage looking for |
a clean place on which to fall. Mixed
in with his lines he was making re- |
marks to us in the wiugs sotto voce,
while we were convulsed with laugh-
ter at his antics. i
“1 cannot die—oh, why didn't you
have a grass mat?—| must not die—I
shall ruin my breeches—1 can't dle— |
oh, this stage is afloat with ice cream
—~l—must—not—die.”
Here the juvenile put in sone side
remarks of his own. “Oh. hurry up
and die or I'll walk off" |
“Go ahead,” retorted Mac, “and bring
me a sack. 1 must—not—die. Well, if |
1 must here gues -it's ruin to your
tunic. Perce, and my breeches—oh, |
oh!” (He went down on one knee, |
then on one elbow and finally lay full
length.) “The deed is done—I confess
~l—murdered—0ld Fitzger”— A real-
istic shiver and all was over, including
the ruining of our clothes, as prophe-
sied. The natives sald it was the
“best and most likelike death scene
that bad ever been given in that
town.”
i
i
—
More People Trap This Little Animal
Than Any Other.
In America nearly 10.000 people trap
the musquash, or muskrat, every year.
More people trap this little animal
than any other. It is claimed that the
greatest number of skins are taken in
Minnesota and the Red river district.
Most of the pelts are exported.
The skins are very uniform in color,
usually a dark brown. However, those
of Alaskg and the Mackenzie district
are very light in color. The black
pelts or these which are nearly ®o
come from the southern sections, zl
though occasionally a few are found in
other localities.
The muskrat is very prolific. In
some latitudes, says Fur News, it hes
three litters of young in a summer and
from three to five young in each litter.
The animals are nocturnal in their
habits, but are often seen during the
day. Musquash, it is said, thrive best
in sluggish streams, lakes and marsh:
es. In appearance it is very much like
the beaver, and itx hablix are very
similar,
The muskrats that inhabit the ponds,
marshes and shallow lakes build their
houses of grass, weeds, ete, and plas
Clothing.
a ————————
ter them together with mud. The
house is buiit in the shape of a dome
and is usually several feet above the
water. The musquash that lives along
the streams usually bas its home in
the banks of them. The entrance to
this den is almost always beneath the
water, but as the burrows range up-
ward tie dens are never filled with
water except in times of freshets.
Color Blindness.
One thing is definitely shown by the
tests that have been made for color
blindness in various races—no race,
however primitive, has been discov-
ered in which red-green blindness was
the universal or general condition, and
this is a fact of some interest in con-
pection with the physiology of color
vision, for it seems probable that red-
green blindness since it is vot by any
means a diseased condition represents
a reversion to a more primitive state
of the color sense. If this Is so no race
of wen remains in the primitive stages
of the evolution of the color sense. The
development of a color sense substan-
tally to the condition in which we
have it was probably a prehuman
achievement.— Professor II. 8. Wood-
worth in Science.
A Gambler's Philosophy.
“There's no use iu trying to buck
against bad Juck.” said the success-
ful gambler as he put down his glass
of vichy and milk. “If you see luck 's
going against you, drop out. If the
tickle goddess of fortune is with you,
woo her for all you are worth, That's
the whole secret of the game. I've
been gambling all my life. and 1 rare-
ly lose. Why? Because 1 never take
a chance against bad luck. Luck is
bound to be either with you or against
you. You win or you lose. The
chances of breaking even are mighty
slim. So 1 mever buck bad luck.”
New York Times,
A Better Position.
“Why did Dollarby sell his hotel?”
“He wasn't making money fast
enough.”
“What is he doing now?”
“He's luxuriating in the position of
head waiter.” —Pearson’'s Weekly.
Inertia of the Nerves.
The researches and experiments of a
French scientist have led him to the
conclusion that the cerebral nervous
system is incapable of perceiving more
than an average of ten separate im-
pressions per second. After each ex-
citation of the nerves a period of in-
ertia follows, lasting about one-tenth
of a second, and during this period a
new impression cannot be made. Ac-
cording to the Investigations of this
scientist a person cannot make more
than ten or at the most a dozen sep-
arate voluntary movements of any
kind in a second, although the muscles,
independently of the will, are capable
of making as many as thirty or forty.
A Romantic Career.
The romantic career of a very re-
markable man, John Gully, who sec-
onded Cribb in his battle with Moli-
neaux, is thus summed up in the
“Dictionary of National Biography:
“Prizefighter, horse racer, legislator
and colliery proprietor.” Gully fought
his first fight just before Trafalgar.
He fought his last and retired from
the prize ring in a blaze of triumph
seven years before Waterloo. Gully
rose to be a rich man and a member of
parliament. He won the Derby three
times and was the owner of a large
and prosperous colliery. He dled in
1863, the father of twenty-four chil-
dren.
Compensation,
“1 felt so sorry when 1 heard your
house was burned down, Mrs. Jones,”
said Mrs. Hawkins.
“It was too bad,” sald Mrs. Jones,
“put it had its bright side. John and
I were both afraid to discharge our
cook, but now that the house is gone
of course we don't have to.”—Harper's
‘Weekly.
Old School Prejudice.
“Doctor, 1 met a medical practi
tioner of a new kind the other day.
and I can’t classify him. He diagnose:
all diseases by looking at the finzoer
nails of his patients. What would you
call him?’
“I should call him a humbug.” -Chi-
cago Tribune.
Hood’s Sarsaparilia
TS
IEEE
Hood's Sarsaparilla
For
Spring Loss of Appetite and that Tired Feeling.
Cures thousands of cases every Jer, tones the Stomach, aids the digestion, cleanses and
revitalizes the blood, gives and
RooTs, BARKS AND HErBs—Hood's
curative
—— -
————— -
Travelers Guide.
mi RAILROAD OF PENNSYLVANIA.
‘Condensed Time Table effective June 17, 1909.
READ DOWN | READ UP.
1 Ssnom. TT
No 1 No§{No 3 No No 4No2
a. m.ip.m.
HER TB
7204711 2 18 51 4 sf
7 718 2 845 441 9
7 2 843 438 913
730 2 2 839 434000
? 728 8 36 4
7 2x 18 34 4
7 33 i832 4 240
748.738 3 8 29 4 2168
7 3 18 26) 4 18/18
7 744 3 -i 323 4 a
756/17 49 3 |B 4 48
808 751 3 1316 401 8. 81
8 802 330. MILL HALL. 805 3 25%
(N.Y. Central & Hudson River R. R.)
Nw
|
7% 6% A PHADEA | 1s
1140 883... Jersey Shore,......
HE FB warvowt ioe
8 288
oda
8 888
—-
—-
i |
1010 900......... NEW YORK......... | 900
| i (Via Phila.) |
p.m.! a.m. Arr. Lve.! a.m. p.m
t Week Days.
ELLEFONTE CENTRAL RAILROAD.
Schedule to take effect Monday, Jan. 6, 1910
WESTWARD |
| JA
| STATIONS. | il
1Nos]tNosiNo1 tNo2{t No No
P. a mam Lye Ara.
oan aaa?
Rens 52887
g
z
TRADE MARKS, COPYRIGHTS,
DE a SE
able. tions are strictly
Handbook on Patents Sent free, agency
Better
That Have More Style,
that will fit you as well,
and in nine cases out of
ten better than the ones
you had made to your
order, and the saving
will be from five to ten
dollars---don’t you think
it worth while. .......
M. Fauble
Tailored,
It's the Particular Man
The fellow who thinks
his clothes must be made
to special measurements
to be satisfactory,
THAT WE ARE AFTER
The Clothes we show
this season will remove
that prejudice.
We will show you
clothes that are
4
AR SRD SR
vy on vo. 4
yo ve IE J nd Sons AO be be
RE AC A NS gr or or vk Ve VE
0
J
& I. J
?
CIC INCI: