20 (/YEW X n§ A y ,-s. '#v often, toward Y - >A/& I I the end of life's | long day Have men of note N thfir lives passed vLtV V man of truth / ™ ,,st say / <; "If 1 asain could ' v|\ live, much better r would I do." How often have they shown mistakes of theirs, Which they had made when In their youthful days: Thus warned their hearers, lest they'd not beware, So, fall into the error of their ways. How often have these words gone unre ealled. Till death came staring at the open door; Then hearts have stood in terror, and, ap palled. Too late repented of the sins of yore. Bright vouth afar from us may long have fled; Old eyes may he our only guides and charts; But still another year has softly sped. And finds us weak, with lowly, contrite hearts. But now before us lies a snow-white path, For us to tarnish, trample, blacken as we will; Oh, give us strength, so when the year has passed. The mad behind shall be the white path still. «-Giles Bishop, Jr.. In Boston Budget. *\ - ' 1 e '' 11 0 ~ \A / /fiSw, ( I ristmas >-t vi ties and their after effecls and ' (4 was preparing to see the New Year in. In the misty hours of the December afternoon, two voting men were gazing through the. windows of a Piccadilly club at the people who were hurrying lip arid down '.hat popular thorough fare. "Well. Densham," said the younger aud darker of the two, "arc you rindi tai'r_' iv lofty and noble resolution* for the New Year?" "1 am afraid that is not much in my line." replied Lord Densham, in a slight ly affected tone "Why do you ask? Arc you going to turn over a new leaf, a* our spiritual pastors and masters call it?" "I've turned over many new leaves," said Cecil liriarley. lightly; "but the same old tales, the same moth-eaten jokes of fate, seem to be written on all of them. No two years are the -,ame, but they are all beastly similar." "Ah, liriarley, 1 am thinking of mak ing unreal altera!ion," said Lord Dens ham, w ho was evidently in a communi cative. though serious, mood. "Keally! Are you going 1o change your tailor, or only let your mustache grow?" "Don't be flippant," said his lordship, in <|iiite a melancholy tone. "The fact is, liriarley. old boy, I'm in a hole!" "You in a hole. It's not money?" "Of course not—it wouldn't be much 11-- > coniWig to you if it were, wouid ii .' No. I'm. going to get. married." This w;i.s drawled out slowly and with a deep sigh, as though the speaker felt he was making some mighty self-sac rifice for the benefit of humanity. "1 thought you looked jolly blue about something; but wherefore the hole?" asked liriarley. "Nobody com pels you." "My dear boy, everybody compels me,"said Densham, gazing thought fully at his white and well-kept bauds and lingt r nails, and adding, pathetically: '"Of course, you don't know what it is to be hit»h 1 \ eligible." "No," replied liriarley, with a grim smile. "Hut unfortunately I shall have to marry in self-defcr.se," proceeded his lordship, taking no notice of his friend's remark. "It is sickening to fiel that you are being run after by all the girls and all t lit ir mat eh-making mammas." "I'oor, poor Densham!" murmured liriarley. "No wonder you are in a hole." "Yes, but the worst of it is that I've fixed on two girls, and I can't for the life of me decide which of them to have." "And who are the favored couple be tween whom I'aris the Second has to judge?" "One is Daisy Molyneux—the lively little thing with the blue ey< sand the good figure, you know. Of course, slic is very jolly and awfully fond of me —" "Yes; and the other?" "The other is Sybil Cast lcmaine." "Who?" "Sybil Castlemaiie, your—er—sec ond cousin, isn't, she?" "tlood heavens!" muttered liriarley. "What did you say?" "Nothing. Do you think Sybil cares for you?" "I am afraid there is not much doubt, of it, old man," said his lord ship, mourn fully, as he languidly stroked his clean shaven chin. "I used to fancy you wen* rather fond of her at one time, but, of course, ii is impassible." "It terly!" "Well, look here, old chap. I shouldn't, ask everybody, but which of the two girls do you advise me to have?" "Can't you have both?" asked Ci eil, rather savagely. "Now, conic op, old fellow, give me Toni* honest opinion. Thev're both nice, loving' little girls, and it's an awful bore to have to choose. Which would you ask?" •"Well,"said liriarley,slow ly, and with a bitterness his companion did not ap pear to see, "it certainly is incredible 1 hat any girl could rcfu—i the lionor and privilege of being J. 5.%; _"?u liam, wearing the Den sham diamonds and sharing the Densham eelebriiy. 'l'lie only wonder is that you have been per mitted to enjoy your liberty for so long. 1 should advise you to have Daisy Molyneux." "Not your cousin?" "No; she would not suit you nearly as well as Miss Molyneux would." "Thanks, awfully, old chap; I only just needed an impartial opinion like yours to help me to decide. I'll propose to Daisy to-night; she is going to be at Lady Yivysm'a dance, and so is Sybil, so I can get it settled either way. Will you be there?" "Yes, 1 expert so." "Kiglit. then 1 shall see you later." As Cecil liriarley watched ihe re treating figure of the wealthy and cor oneted friend w ho was so overburdened with unsought affections, and didn't know which of the two maidens he really loved, he summed tip the situa tion in one word, which he muttered very Rjw. and with heartfelt sincerity. No one heard it, but it is safe to con jecture that it was a syllable of most emphatic disapproval. I/idy Vivyan's rooms presented a gay and brilliant scene that evening. To welcome the new year with dancing and revelry, with music and mirth, was perhaps typical of the giddy social whirl in which hostess and guests re volved in their more or less important positions; but, after all, every day, every hour, start a new year, and it is only sentiment and commercial conven ience that settles ime particular chime as marking the commencement of an other circle. Lord Densham arrived early, lie was JL ~||| ii "NOW. TAKE MK, FOR KX AMPLR," UK 'A KNT ON. attired with his usual cure and correct ness, anil lie wore, also, an air of deter mination that suited him very well. !t displaced the appearance of indiffer ence and listlessnessi which usually maketlie hereditary leg I !suitor look limp and flabby, lie speedily discovered that both i>ai.-y Molyneux and Sybil Castlc maine had come, and with a sigh of re lief to think that his decision was at last made. lie proceeded to seek out Miss Mi.: \ neii\ that he might acquaint her with I lie honor he proposed to do her. It was considerably later when Cecil llriarlcv arrived. He was not in tin- In ,-t of spirits, and did not intend to do much dancing. One of ilic lir.-t persons he noticed was his own eousi.ii. "What. Sybil—you not dancing!" "ili;w are you, Cecil? Xo; 1 haven't been here long." "Shall we sit down somewhere until some one con.es and claims you?" "l!y all means; it is quite a long time since I have had the chance of talking to you. Cecil." "Ifave you never heard of Tantalus?" a.-ked her cousin, as he led her to a se cluded corner. "Whowas he? An ancient god, wasn't he?" replied Miss Castlemainc. "Was Ix a relative of liaechus. The spirit de canters are named after him." "No," said Cecil, very seriously. "Lie was a young man w ho longed for a cer tain prize,, and it was just out of his reach." "And this is apropos of what?" in quired Sybil. '"TilI talus would have been happier if iiis prize had been out of his sight as well as out of his reach." "Why can't you talk like a rational being, <'ceil?" "I only wanted to say that in order to escape the madness of Tantalus, I have been letting- my prize go out of sight. Tiu-y are waltzing very nicely," he lidd ed, drawing her attention to one of the couples who were floating near tliem. "J-ord Densliani and Daisy Moly m u \ ?" "Yes. Densham's a nice fellow, isn't he?" "Ye-es. I suppose one would hardlv call hi in shy or modest, would one?" 11: r merry brown eyes looked up into his. but they didn't find any rcsponsivi twinkle. "lie has no need for modesty; he j knows his worth." "KM ry bit of it!" said Sybil. "Yes; but when a fellow like that can J choose any girl he likes- when he I knows they are all like pretty apples asking 1 to be plucked, it is enough to make him conceited." "And other fellow r jealous?" added Sybil mischievously CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1899. "Yes, and other fellows j ;alous.'* "And I suppose none of the pretty ap ples can be strong enough to refuse to fall Into his hand?" "It would be a modern miracle if they did." "Then, perhaps, the age of miracles has not yet gone," said Sybil, nodding to him, as Lady Vivyan came up and introduced a new partner >o her. A little later liriarley was trying to soothe his feelings with a cigarette in the smoking-room when Lord Densham came up to him. "I say, old chap, a funny thing lias happened. She has refused me." "Who Iras?" "Why. Daisy Molyueux." "Ily Jove! Were any signs of insan ity evi r noticed in the family before?" asked Cecil. "No, I believe n<>»," answered the peer, failing, as usual, to sec any sar casm in the question. "I tried to point out to her what it meant, but she stuck to it. Nice little girl, too." "Well, I'm awfully sorry, Densham, really I am." "It doesn't matterso very much; Miss C-astlemaine is here, isn't she? You see. I can ask her, and get it settled." "Of course you can," said CecM, with a trace of bitterness in his tone. "1 think I'll go and find her. I'm rather sorry I wasted my time over that other silly girl, but it was your advice. Anyway, it makes my choice much easier." As he walked off Cecil liriarley watched him. and although he was not a man given to the use of bad Language it is a lamentable fact that a little word before referred to slipped with terrible earnestness from his lips. When Lord Densham suggested to Sybil Cast lcmaine that they should sit the dance out in the conservatory, she saw that lie meant to propose to her, and his lordship perceived that, under the circumstances, there was nothing to be gained by beating about the bush, ami so h<- quiekl.v !«■< 1 up to the business • he h:!<; come to negotiate. "It is rather serious to lie standing f.n the edge of a new year, don't you think so, .Miss Casticiiiaine? It makes ) one think." *'li! ally?" sail! Sybil, arching lier pretty eyebrows. "Ye.-; ore looks at the past and then at tin future, you know. Now, take me, for example," he went on, plunging- into | his carefully prepared and already re > hearsed speech. "With money and l good connections one can get on very 1 ! well in life; but that isn't all, upon my | word it isn't. Miss Castlemainc. Xo i | doubt many fellows would envy what , I've got —but. after all, it is very little. There is? something more that is want led. and surely to supply that want j wouiil be the fittest way of starting a new year. Dear Miss Castleniaine, 1 want to be a better man in the future 1 ' than in the past, and you, only you, can | help me. What is needed to make my 1 happiness complete, to crown all n hopes, and perfect my manhood, is a , woman's love. Sybil let me call you J Sybil, my love will you be the woman? i Will you marry me'."' In the seclusion of the conservatory In opened his arms a little, as though ! he expected her to creep in.and he ex panded his chest to receive the burden of the dainty little head that was to [nestle gently on it. llut it was a night | of surprises. "I am very sorry you should have asked me this. I.ord Densham," said Sy bil. gravely. "I am conscious of the vastness of the compliment, and I am not blind to the advantages and attrac tions of your offer, but I do not love yon." "You don't love me?" repeated his lordship, in a tone of disappointment tint had a suspicion of incredulity in it. "You don't love me? liut surely that, is only a matter of time; when you lave seen more of me, when you know me better, Sybil—" "My decision would not alter, Lord Densham." "liut you are <|iiWe sure—" I "I quite realize what I am losing." j said Sybil, calmly, "and although I | know how good of you it is to suggest it. I don't really think that 1 could make ! you nny better or anything but what ! you are, either in the new year, or at j any ol her t i inc." "llut you could, Miss Castlemaine; you—" "Would you please take me back? T | am engaged for the next dance." With a wonderful smile on his lips, in which mortification, pity and surprise j were blended, he politely offered her his arm and led her back to the ballroom. I As they entered it they almost ran into Cef'il Briarley, lie was aba'it io walk past them when Sybil said: "Oh, Cecil, here you are! You're just in time." Dcnsham yielded her up with his cus tomary smile, and Cecil whispered: "I was not going to claim you for this dance; 1 thought you would prefer to sit it out with him." "With him? Why?" "I —or— I believe lie has a question he wants to ask you." "1 don't- think lie has," said Sybil, quietly. They were, about to join the dancers when it was announced that the mystic muhiight moment had almost arrived, and tliose who eared to do so were togo to the open windows and on the door steps and the balconies, to listen and wait for the solemn peal that was to mark the annual recommencement. I'.riarley got a wrap to throw over his cousin's shoulders, and then they went to the further corner of the long bal cony. It was a clear, frosty night, and the stars and the moon were shining with a brightness that, reflected in the hoar frost on the grass and trees, illumi nated the dark hour with a soft, poetic liK'ht. Cecil stood silently by Sybil's side for some seconds, and then he whis pered : "And is the beautiful night making you thoughtful, too?" "No," said Sybil, with her face turned a little from him. "No, I was thinking of Tantalus." "Ah, poor Tantalus!" sighed Cecil. "I hope you pity him." "I don't think I do," responded his cousin, softly, feeling glad that the shadows hid her blushing cheek. "Per haps his prize was not so far out of reach as he imagined." Cecil may not have been rich in this world's goods, but he was not poor in imaginat ion. "Sybil, didn't Densliam ask you any thing?" he whispered. "Yes. Cecil, and and I performed a modern miracle." "My darling!" and then there was si lence. "Sybil, you know I am nrit a rich man, and I am not a lord." "And you tire not horribly conceited and selfish, either, dear." lie did not remove his arm, and a sud den hush of expectancy quieted the chattering party. Nothing was heard for a moment, and then from it dozen elangingcloeksall around them boomed forth llie solemn chime that announced the birth of the New Year. One. two, three—ten, 11, 12. "Sybil," whispered Briarley, "the old tarnished years are gone. Here's to tin golden future."—Household Words. A HARMLESS EARTHQUAKE* How tin' Kereiitl}- \rrlveil *i'li mid I f-'umly I nlii-rc,.. -» ' sv "Dp man dat makes New Year reso lutions an' accidentally breaks 'em," said Cnele Kben. "ain't nigh ;k.-- bad off as de man dat 'magincs hi* doesn't need none." -Washington Star. ( / it 7!V» 1 112 N THE evanescent (ome t ' le footsteps V*v"jET Jll o' L ' r the light and "licJL fleecy snow, ! £%£ ( Awl a happy wel s'if M*" V come soundeth 0 ( ■* J from the steeple l\. * IJ- guarded chimes / And prophesy the tuneful bells the 'J d a w n of better times; In the splendor of the morning, e'er the stars have vanished quite. When the earth awaits her bridal in her robes of spotless white And the millions watch impatient while the holy bells they hear, From the orient, old in story, comes again the glad New Year. The old year passes slowly, like a vision of the night. With Its ever-shaded sorrows and its pleas ures dimly blight, In its footsteps all around us lie a people's tears impearl'd, And its dark and silent passage Is the Joy of all the world; Let the bells that ring its going greet the infant New Year's birth, May Its dawn proclaim an era that shall brighten all the earth; Let every land beneath the sun from trou ble (ind release, And read upon its brow the sign of uni versal peace. Columbia greets the New Year with a wel come fair to see. And brighter glow the stars that gem the banner of the free; To the future that it brings us, to the days that come apace. We trust the mighty destiny that doth in vest our race; In the flushes of Its dawning we can see a grander fame Than that whose hala gilds to-day our coun try's deathless name; In the brightness and the beauty of the year's initial morn Beneath the flag our fathers gave a newer day is born. * Hail the year's auspicious dawning! let all strife and cavil cease. May every sword be burled "neath the blended bloom of peace, May every son of freedom stand erect to dt>y and hear With lifted soul th chimes ihat rlr.g the morning of the year; From far Alaska's whitened coast to where the waving pines Their shadows shed where nobly stood the serried battle lines, From Maine's immortal surges with their legends «tlll untold To where She Sacramento cleaves a para dise of gold. lling o;:t, O chimes, your gladness, let re joicing rule the land, God holds Ihe New Year's bh ssings in the hollow of ills hand; He hath guarded well our country from the days of long ago When knelt the I'ilgrim Fathers in the New Year's fleecy snow; Each year hath brought us grandeur, and the one before us now Will set another star of fame upon Colum bia's brow; Behold! with added glory now 'he nation doth appear In the bright and matchless splendor of the dawning of the year. It dawns for every mortal on the land and on tiie sra, Its light is shed on every path that leads to liberty; The sunlight of its morning (alls alike on hut and spire And kindles in the heart of man a new and holy fire; Lol it inarches to the anthem that thei Choir Immortal sings, And every tongue may prophesy the bless ings that it brings; From east to west, from north to south throughout our country dear Let the proudest and the humblest greet the dawning of the year. T. C. HARBADGH. NOTHING LEFT TO TIBS OVER. lie—Hut I'm going to turn over a new leaf. She —You've done that so often that there can't be iiiy leaves left to turn.—Collier's Weekly. \ ,\nlllrul .11 Intake. Young I'oet (to friend) —Well, Charley, I've sworn oIY. Friend (enthusiastically') —l'm heartily glad of it, old boy; and all your friends will feel the same. Let's go and have a drink. Young I'oet—Didn't 1 just tell you I had sworn oft' drinking? Friend (disappointed) Y"ii didn't say you had sworn off drinking. I supposed you had sworn off writing poetry. Good bye.—N. Y. Tribune Tin* >l'll Yi'nr. Love's harmonies flow toward him fu!l and sweet; Sin's wild, discordant cries are past him hurled. With sad, glad lit art and brave, reluctant feet He steps upon the threshold of the world. —Judge. None In Turn Over. "I thought you were going to turn over a new leaf, John," she said. "1 was,"he replied, "but I find 1 can't." "Why not?" "There won't be any new leaves until spring."—Chicago I'ost. Merely mi (liilelnl Pom. He wished me a hnppv New Year; The wor Is would I ive tickled me. but | 1 knew from his beating austere I was booked for a salary cut. —Chicago Kc-cord. JOHN HOBBS* ERROR. i How It Helped Him to Break j Cast iron Resolution. 'TT was '' ie f;ve '' ie ew Year. in one short hour the bells wouid 11 11 peal for the birth of 1900. John Hobbs, lawyer and notary public, sat in his oiiice thinking, for lie had much to think of. Eighteen hundred and ninety nine had been what he called a "corker." In other words, it had been vastly unsatis factory. He was young and handsome, and the poorest lawyer in the city, both as to finance and legal ability. And he rightly attributed this dual poverty to a pair of brown eyes. Had he devoted as much of 1899 to the study of law as he had to those brown eyes, he would have progressed vast ly in legal lore. "And, by Jove!" he cried, bringing down his list, "I will not waste another minute on the little coquette! 1 have let her play hob with me long enough, and to night I draw the line and dismiss the case!" Having said which, he took up his pen and wrote the following ironclad resolu tion: "Chicago, Jan. 1, ISM. "r hereby resolve and promise during this year just arrived to have nothing whatever to do with Anita Sara Atkins. "JOHN HOBBS." Having written this, he appended the following: "I, John Hobbs, having appeared before me, John Hobbs, a notary public for the county of Cook, state of Illinois, do most solemnly swear that 1 will keep the above resolution. JOHN' HOBBS." To this he affixed his notarial seal, and, taking 50 cents from his right pocket, paid it to himself, and put it in his left pocket. I'h I' | ' liTP v^lfr : | sjppii|« AFFIXING lIIS SEAL. The clock struck twelve. John Hobbs im- I mediately underwent a revulsion of fcei : ing. He felt that life itself would be worth less without Anita. " 1 Jut I l.ave sworn it,"he said, "and it ! would be perjury to think of her now!" Hut suddenly a gleam of joy lightened his face. "IJy Jove!" he cried, "this resolution is null and void! There is a technical error in it! 1 have succumbed to the inevitable force of habit, and dated it IS!>9, instead of 1900! Anita, my darling, I am free!" With a cry of joy lie coiled the sworn resolve into a lighter, and lighted his pipe with it. Some people swear when they date every thing incorrectly on the first day of a new year. As for John Hobbs, he only smile* They will be married in June. K1.1.1S PARKER BUTLER. THE GLAD NEW YEAR. its Advent Is Marked by Various Customs in Many Lands. MOKE attention is paid to New Year's in our national capital, Washing ton, than in any other city in the United States. The state levee at the white house is but the beginning of the calling that continues throughout the aft ernoon and well into the night in oflicial and private houses. In fact, the social season is formally inaugurated on New Year's day. It is grand rallying day, and men call then who never emerge from their shell again during the year. Lists are published in the newspapers of the houses where receptions will be held, with the names of the assisting women. The latter often attract more callers than the hostess, and newly arrived families are on the look out for popular women for their receptions. The affairs are conducted with lavish south ern hospitality. Tables are loaded with viands —real southern egg-nog or bowls of Fish House punch mixed by a well-guarded formula, an heirloom in the family, is served. It is a gala day for Washington, and it is well it comes but once a year. New Year's day is made much of in Europe and in some countries its celebra tion is on a more elaborate scale than Christmas. Gifts are exchanged with reek less abandon, recalling the days of feudal ism, when every landlord presented his ten ant with a fat capon. An orange stuck with cloves was tiie common gift of poor people. Among the rich, gloves were a popular pres ent, and often a sum of money, called glove money, served as a substitute. When pins were invented they took the place of gloves, and every woman was proud of her collec tion of pins made from thorns, bone, silver, gold or steel. The expression, pin money, was originally used to designate the money often presented in lieu of the pins for their purchase. Under good Queen Hess the custom of giving presents on New Year's was at its high water mark, and the most extravagant packages were distributed an onymously with no inscription but a verse expressing greetings. According to an old superstition, one'?, luck for the year is dependent on the com plexion of the first man who calls. If he is a blonde, fate will be kind, but if a dark-complexioned man steps over the threshold iirst, sickness, trouble and finan cial disaster are apt to step with him. So firmly was this superstition implanted in the mind of an elderly woman that she made arrangements every year by which her first caller was sure to be of a light complexion. The holiday revels in England end with Twelfth Night. In America they are drawn to a c'.ise with the New Year celebration. The stripping of the Christ mas tree, which properly takes place New Year's Eve, is frequently made the ex cuse for a jolly party. There is vet likely to be a package on the tree te each one present, containing a joke that wii be as good-natured as it is amusing. Orinii Ills Only Snlocr Now. " Yes. I'll vwt nr off on Vr w Year's day. He said, "if my neighbor's kid'll Swear of? fron. trying to learn to play His everlasting fiddle." —Chicago Tribune.