Gs
The village of Enderley was looking
forward to an era of prosperity. When
a stripling in the postoffice called it
2 boom Deacon Carder launched forth
into a tirade against such a proposi-
tion.
“Butterworth’s givin’ good wages,”
be said, “but you wait till be gits in
a passel of foreign hands.”
“Basy, Carder, easy! They do say
he’s buying land all along the river
road and going to put up these new-
fangled model tenements.” pacified
the postmaster.
Passing down the street, the deacon
saw young Jack Butterworth rapping
at the door of the Dyer girls and ex-
claimed:
“Bither on ‘em old ‘nough to be
his grandmother, an’ Analine bed-
ridden at that. Humph! Prob’ly he's
up to his pa’s tricks an’ wantin’ to
buy there an’ start a hifalutin sul-
phite mill. Stuff an’ nonsense, 1 say!"
Meantime the young man was vigor.
ously using the ancient knocker on the
door of the small white house, but, re
celving no response, was about to turn
away when the sudden shrill blast of
2 horn from within assured him that
' the dwelling was not tenantiess,
“I'm coming,” called a high pitched
voice, and a wiry little old lady in
gingham gown and flapping sunbonnet
appeared from the garden at the rear.
“Deary me! 1 was out getting butter
beans, and when 1 beard sister's horn
1 was all of a fluster. But come right
in now, do!
“Sister, this is Mr. Butterworth.” in-
troduced Miss Caroline deprecatingly.
But the sister, an invalid, waved her
hand with impatience. “Don't mind
me. 1 ain't to home. Been in Japan
the whole afternoon. Just going to
ride out In one o' them jinny gocarts
this minute. Say.” she continued ir-
relevantly, with a birdiike change of
demeanor, “did you hear wy horn?"
She proudly tapped an old cornet as
she spoke.
“Hear it, Miss Analine! My cars are
ringing yet. Do you play often?’ he
asked, with lingering amusement.
“Sister doesn't really play.”
Carolive hastened to explain,
“No, but she can blow like old Bo-
rax,” the invalid rejoined, with a
shrewd twinkle in her eyes.
“Boreas, Boreas, you mean, sister.”
corrected the other gently.
“Well, I call him Borax.” There was
the insistence of a spoiled child in the
gick woman's tone. “One toot means
‘Some one at the door’ Two toots
mean ‘I want you myself.’ "”
Then she gravely observed, “The jin-
ny gocart's waiting,” and withdrew
her interest from the conversation.
“I'm afraid it's hopeless.” he admit-
ted ruefully to his father afterward.
“If the Dyer place didn't happen to be
located exactly as it is—fairly adjoin-
ing the ‘river road’ property—of course
we'd never give it another thought.
And what would ever induce that
quaint old pair to give up their home?
Those poor souls! By the way, father,
have you ever seen Miss Analine, the
bedridden one, who has a mania for
traveling and so pretends she's con-
stantly on the road?”
Mr. Butterworth drummed abstract-
edly on his office desk before answer-
ing. “No, but 1 should think tlre
change would suit the old lady toa T
from all accounts,
“By Jove, father, do you know 1 be-
lieve 1 have a scheme! [I'm deter-
mined to win yet, but I'll keep my
plan to myself for the present.”
“Well, success to you, Jack,” was
the hearty wish as the paternal gaze
rested admiringly on the animated
face. “I judge the Dyer ‘girls’ are
likely to have a persistent caller.”
Subsequent events proved the truth
of the prophecy, for the following aft-
ernoon saw the runabout again before
the old house. The front door was
ajar, and Miss Analine called with un-
wouted graciousness: “Come in! Come
in if you want to! Caroline's over to
Mis’ Skillius, but I'm just getting back
from Venice myself. I'll be home in
a jiffy. My,” she exuited, “but it's
fine gondoling on the Grand canal!”
he Lreathed a sigh of rapture as she
looked up.
“Enderley, too, is an uncommonly
pretty place to any one who has an
eye for natural beauty,” he finally
ventured.
Miss Analine’'s face clouded.
be,” she assented reluctantly.
“The ‘own is improving fast,” pur-
sued the undaunted youth, launching
into a glowing account of recen’
changes and bettered conditions,
“Down in the village, now, on Main
street, there's so much passing it's
sometimes absolutely lively.”
The black eyes in the withered coun-
tenance shone with speculative appre-
ciation, and the speaker resumed: “I
should think you and Miss Caroline
would—ahem!—take a notion one of
tuese days to move down in the midst
of things, where you'd have more
neighbors. Haven't you ever thought
of seiling the farm and taking a small-
er place there?”
Mr. Butterworth, Sr., would have de-
tected germs of diplomatic talent in
the apparent innocence with which the
question was proffered, but the old
lady was wholly unsuspicious and re-
torted with a sniff of scorn: “What
Yankee would ever lack gumption bad
enough to buy this farm, do you sup-
pose? Caroline can't raise a thing on
it but hay 'n’ potatoes 'n’ pusley, with
a mess of butter beans now 'n’ then.
Besides, though I'm away from home
a good deal myself, I do seem to need
this place for a kind of depot.”
Miss
“May-
An expression of sly humor lighted
| the invalid's countenance, but her lis-
| tener's manner was merely one of
| grave attention. *1 see,” he remarked
| quietly. “But, Miss Analine, some peo-
| ple travel in their own private cars.
How would it strike you and your sis-
| tre if you could get a good price for
| the farm and still keep the house here
| for a sort of car perhaps? Travel in
it to your new home, say?”
“Young man, be you crazy? Red
spots burned in the faded cheeks, and
| there was stern interrogation in the
| voice,
“Listen, Miss Analine,” was the ear-
nest entreaty, and in reassuring toues
the plan was little by little unfoided
by which the Butterworth company
might gain possession of the coveted
land and yet the two old ladies be at
the same time enriched, while, best of
all, the belated traveler could at last
take a trip in very truth.
Therefore when Miss Caroline made
her tardy appearance she found ber
sister sitting upright in excitement, so
engrossed in conversation with Jack
Butterworth that she was utterly ob-
livious to the fact that Snooks, the
gray kitten, was playing with the map
of Africa in a way which threatened
the immediate destruction of the dark
continent.
“Caroline,” summoned an imperious
voice, “it's high time you got here.
We're going to sell this farm, you 'n’
1, and take a trip abroad. My, but
won't the Enderley folks stare!”
“Remember.” admonished the auto-
erat, “not a word of this is to be lisped
till we're ready to start ou our trip.
Won't it give Enderley a turn, though!”
She chuckled as she packed her books
and maps in a neat pile on the stand
at the side of the bed. “Tomorrow,
sister,” she proclaimed, “we'll begin
to make over my brown alpaca for a
traveling dress. I wonder if ruffles or
bias folds would look bet for any one
going away."
But there was no reply, for the mind
of the other was busy with both pros-
pect and retrospect. “How can | give
up the dear old place? she finally
asked, with a groan. “But such an
offer as he made! ‘Twould seem like
fiying in the face of Providence to
refuse. Land sakes, though, how up-
set 1 am!” she walled.
with asperity. “It's ‘land sakes’ aud
nothing else. Haven't we still got the
house, and aren't we going to live in
a good lot down next to the Baptist
minister's when we get home from
our travels? Caroline Dyer, If you'd
been around the world as much as
some folks you'd likely have more
sense than you've ever got yet, |
should think you'd go now and get
supper with a glad heart like a Chris-
tian, 1 feel to eat a hefty meal my-
self.” Thus admonished, tlie mourn-
ful one was forced to bestir herself.
Succeeding morrows rolled into the
present and then the past until one
morning a smiling youth arrived with
the gay announcement: “The private
car is ready and horses are in sight
for the—baggage, shall I say? ‘All
aboard,’ Miss Analine?”’
“Wait till my bonnet and shawl's
on,” commanded the bedridden trav-
eler. Then, noting an involuntary
smile, she grimly added, “When you're
making a real start for the first time
in a good many years, young man, I
think you'll want to go seemly and
prepared.”
Miss Analine “received” at different
stages of her triumphal progress, and
the unusual excitement served as a
bracing tonic. “We stop down by the
Carder farm tonight,” she announced
on the second day with the manner of
one about to behold untold glories,
but it was the following noon that a
discovery was made which thrilled
Miss Caroline with the awakening of
a hope long deferred.
She was getting dinner at what they
termed a “way station” when she re-
marked with a perturbed expression,
“I declare, Analine, I'm coming to be
as forgetful as old Grandma Skillins,
Why, I should have vowed I had a
big plece of berry ple in the butt'ry
for your dinner, but there ain't so
much as a bite.”
She locked at the scanty repast with
regret, but great was her amazement
to hear her sister acknowledge with a
mixture of pride and contrition, “Come
to think of it, that must have been the
identical pie I ate last night.”
Miss Caroline dropped into a chair.
“Analine Dyer,” she gasped, “tell me
the truth! How'd you happen to get
that when ‘twas in the butt'ry?”
There was no attempt at conceal
ment, but a characteristic explanation
was in readiness. “Don't get flustered,
Caroline. You act as floppy as if you
walk car sick. You see, twas this way:
1 got to sort of dwelling on the sub-
ject of China in the night, and from
thinking how pesky the famine was
there 1 happened to feel a hankering
for something to nibble on myself, and
I found I could and did get to the
butt'ry. So there, that's all. Now,
there's no call to take on,” she finish.
ed, for Miss Caroline had thrown her
apron over her head and was rocking
back and forth, shedding tears of joy.
The room seemed suddenly filled
with contentment. A vista of peace-
®al days in which to continue their
brief journey together toward the set-
ting sun opened before the pair, and
two old hands were tightly clasped in
each other as a cheery voice outside
ealled “All aboard!”
A Natural Cause.
“Do you notice that most dog stories
are funny ones?"
“Why not? A dog story ought natu.
rally to be something of a waggish
tale.”—New York Journal.
Few things are necessary for the
wants of this life, but it takes ap in.
finite number to satisfy the demands
of opinion,
pv Hs
TRE BE
“That's just it,” retorted the invalid |
A Painful Jolt For the Good Roads
Ambassador.
I'll never forget the night 1 called os
the Widow Yarn. She owned forty
acres on the main road. which 1 hoped
to bave improved. In practically every
house In the county I had been hos-
pitably received hecause | was a hu-
man being. A pioneer citizen, member
of the Good Roads club, took me in a
carriage to see the widow. “I'll watch
the horses,” this wise old citizen said.
“I don't know what would frighten
them.” 1 suggested. but he secmed to
expect a brass band or some other un-
usual sight, although it was 8 vel k
at night. I soon knew why he prefer:
red to sit out there in the cold.
“Mrs. Yarn, I believe?” 1 begun in-
gratiatingly when the door was open-
ed.
“Well,” the person who stood there
observed, “I've been here forty years.
You ought to believe it.”
“This.” thinks | to myself, “is 2a
strange place for curbstone humor.”
And then aloud: “1 have been talking
for good roads, madam. We have de-
cided to run a rock road by here, and
as” —
“Who has decided? This in the
voice of a conductor when he asks yon
how old your little boy is.
“Why,” 1 stammered,
Roads club, and” —
“1 don't belong to it, do 1? They
wouldn't have a woman member,
would they?"
“I'm sure I don't know.
chiefly” —
“Sure you don't!” the Widow Yarn
snapped. “You're chiefly concerned
about taxing my forty acres into the
county treasury without letting me
vote on it. What right Lave you to
come over here to build roads?
you a road builder? Did yon ever
build a road or pay for one?
“Madam,” 1 said. “you really do have
a vote on this question if a road dis-
trict is organized. You have forty
your opinion of my plays and you an-
swered me frankly, quite frankiv?
Why, I should feel like the poor ludy
at the bridge drive who sald to her
hostess’ little daughter:
“‘Your eyes are such a heavenly
blue. And what color are my eyey.
darling?
“The child's high treble traveled
easily to the farthest corner of the
quiet room as she replied, lookiux
earnestly up into her questioner's face:
“‘Dwab middles, yellow whites and
wed wims?!” "Exchange,
Ruskin and the Turners.
How closely famous pictures can he
imitated by skillful artists was proved
a series of facsimiles of Turner's pic
tures in the National gallery, London,
The collection was accompanied by a
characteristic note from Ruskin. in
which he said, “1 have given my best
attention during upward of ten years
to train a copyist to perfect fidelity in
rendering the works of Turner and
have now succeeded in enabling him
to produce facsimiles so close as to
look like replicas—facsimiles which 1
* must sign with my own name to pre
vent their being sold for real Turners.”
Kith and Kin.
“Very interesting conversation in
here?” asked papa, suddenly thrusting
his head through the conservatory
window. where Ethel, Mr. Tomkins
and little Eva sat very quietly.
“Yes, indeed.” said Ethel, ready on
the instant with a reply. “Mr. Tom-
kins and 1 were discussing our kith
and kin, weren't we, Eva?”
“the Good
I have been
London Tit-Bits,
A Deduction.
“Little Willie Withers is the bright-
est and best hehaved hoy in the neigh-
votes—one for every acre you own, borhood.”
and” - “Allow me to deduce.”
Her face lighted up with a light that “Go ahead.”
never was seen hefore on human face “You don’t know little Willie, and
unless perhaps in riding on an old you've recently been chatting with his
| transfer or getting rid of a bad nickel.
| She opened the door wider—1 had not
been admitted up to that moment—and
asked me to enter,
mother.” —RBirmingham Age-Herald,
Envious.
Howell I'm engaged to Miss Rowell.
“You say 1 have forty votes? she Congratulate me. old man. Powell—-1
inquired. would if 1 did not know that in her
“You have.” 1 assured her, feeling cage a nomination is not equivalent to
like the bearer of good news.' an election.—Smart Set,
“Well, glory he!” the Widow Yarn
sighed. rocking herself comfortably.
“Glory be, say 1! I'll cast them all
against your old rock road. Now 1
must be getting ready for prayer meet-
ing.”—Charles Dillon In Harper's
Weekly.
Another of Woman's Rights.
“How are Brown and his suffragette
wife getting along?"
“Not at all. She insists on reading
the sporting page hefore he does.”—
Detroit Free Press,
The Terrors of Frankness.
“Phere is no worse vice than frank- _ Time ripens all things.
ness.” said a playwright. “How should born wise.—Cervantes.
No man is
— ——— a
Clothing.
——————
1 feel. for example, if 1 asked you for
by an exhibition by Ruskin in 1875 of |
“Yeth, you wath,” replied little Eva,
“Mr. Tomkins said, ‘May 1 bave a
Are Kith? and Ethel said. ‘You kin'"—
Ancient Emblem Used In the House |
|=
of Representatives.
With all its dignity. its senatorial
courtesy and the forms and ceremo-
nies that always are observed, the sen-
ate is far behind the house of repre-
sentatives in the matter of one anti-
quated piece of furniture. The senate
has no mace. Now, a mace is not
much in the way of furniture. It is a
silver eagle mounted upon na staff
around which are bands of silver.
This mace is always an emblem of
the house of representatives. It is the
duty of one employee to look after it.
Just before a session of the house be-
gins he takes it from the office of the
sergeant-at-arms into the house cham-
ber, and as soon as the speaker's gavel
falls he inserts it ip a socket in a
stone pillar at the right of the speak-
er's chair. The mace remains there
while the house is in session and is
taken out and stood beside its pedes- |
| tal when the house is in committee of
! the whole. When the house adjourns
| the mace is carried back to the office
' of the sergeant-at-arms. '
This ancient emblem has not a thing
| to do with the order of business of the
house, save as one of the old time reg-
| ulations that are continued. When the
; house is turbulent an officer seizes the
: mace and walks through the aisles.
| Only once or twice when the speaker
| failed to preserve order have 1 seen un
| officer seize
through the house, waving it back-
‘ward and forward. Possibly the sight
| of it brought members to their senses
and they retired to their seats. At all
the mace and walk
events, that ix about the ouly real use
for the mace that | ever have observ-
ed.—Washington Cor. St. Louis Star.
Sensitiveness of the Phone.
Preece has calculated that an audi
; le sound is produced in a telephone
: by a current of G to 10.13 amperes, end
| Pellat has calculated that a sound is
| produced by a difference of potential
| between the two stations amounting
| to only one two-thousandth volt. These
| statements give some idea of the great
1 sensitiveness of the modern telephone,
but the sensitiveness of the human
ear. which perceives the invisible vi-
| bration of the telephone diaphragm, is
no less remarkable.— Washington Star, |
a ——
RAILROAD OF PENNSYLVANIA.
Condensed Time Table effective June 17, 1909.
READDOWN | | m=AD vp.
meme emel” SITIONS. |
No 1Nos|No3 (No 6No 4No3
Vie
1 | 3
718 2 8 a
781 -4% 124
7 30, 2 58)........Nittany...... |
783 i 4
738 3 18 29, 4
iF Can
7 49, 3 “\18 18] 4
143 Can
802 330i. Mi Li 8053 8%
(N.Y. Central & Hudson River R. R.)
1140 8853... Jersey Shore......... 309 7
BB 3B Saonr jie] 1518
| IK &
7% 650... 18 36, 11 30
1010 900... NEW YORK......... | 900
p.m. a.m. Arr Vis Ve am.) m.
Week Days. 2
ELLEFONTE CENTRAL RAILROAD.
Schedule to take effect Monday, Jan. 6. 1910
end wp
it Not No4[Nos
aol -Hood's Sarsaparilia.
MUNN & CO.,
5245-1y Boagway, New York.
Branch office, 625 F St., C
Hair Dresser.
That the Superiority
of the Fauble Clothes
will make you a custo-
mer, that’s why we
sell them.
WE KNOW
Fair Treatment and
Right Prices will hold
your patronage, that’s
wy fair treatment
and honest prices are
accorded you here
fifty-two weeks In
every year, six days in
every week.
BE A CUSTOMER
of the Fauble store and
you can always be
sure of a big hundred
cents worth for your
dollar.
ETRoUsEIERoS
M. Fauble & Son.