6 RESIGNATION. A broken mother to the Buddha brought A lifeless child; with hands outstretched besought That mighty prophet to recall the breath Forthflown, and steal away the sting of death. Tcwrful she pleaded, and with piteous gaze The Buddha stooped, from her bent knees to raise The stricken mother; took from her the child .nnd spake ill gentle accents, soothing, mild, That hushed her grief and checked the flooding tears: "Be still thine heart, and quieted thy fears. Thy child shall be restored again to thee When thou hast sought and found and brought to me A grain of corn from hovel, hut, or home (No limits give I in thy quest to roam) Whence Death hast stolen parent not, or child." Eager she heard, ami her distress beguiled, Lighted her eyes, the Buddha's name at* blessed. And turned and sped fleet-footed on her quest. Sped on the years and yet she sought in vain With eager voice inquired and sought again. But here a parent gone and hero a son. And here a daughter, always (hiding one Forever absent; still, with footsteps fleet, She sped, to find some circle quite com plete. Asked at each door with mutely pleading eyes And hungry yearning for the ordered prize Despairing not, till worn with toil and time. With patience tireless and with hope sublime. Again the Buddha in her anguish seeks, Recounts her journeys and her failure speaks. TKV Buddha softly, sadly, speaks again: 1 "Hast thou not learned thy search would not be vain Were there the power thou wouldst have ine declare? Post thou not see that Death Is everywhere But in that circle of Eternity That conies with only watting patiently?" —James \V. Foley, Jr., in Bismarck Trib une. | THE STURGIS WAGER | * A DETECTIVE STORY. | I 3 ff By EDGAR MORETTE. jr Copyright, IS3? by Frederick A. Stukes Co. C-HAPTEK XIII.—CoNTixt-ED. "I asked to see Dr. Henderson," he continued, "at which the sleepy clerk stared at nic in open-mouthed amaze ment. Dr. Henderson was not in; it was quite uncertain when lie would be in. Indeed, as far as I was able to judge. Dr. Henderson appears to be a rather mysterious personage. No one knows much about him. Even liis clerk admits that lie has seen him only once or twice in the is months during which he has had charge of the otTiee. The doctor attends to the manufacturing part of the business himself; his laboratory, which is down in the cellar, is a most jealously guarded place. No one is ever ad mitted 1o it under any pretext. He is evidently afraid that some one may discover the secret of his valuable remedies." "You say that as if your words w r ere meant to convey some unexpressed meaning." said Dunlap, studying the reporter's face. "No." Sturgis answered, thought fully, "but 1 am trying to attach some ulterior significance to the facts. There is certainly something mysterious about Dr. Henderson and the Manhattan Chemical company; but whether the mystery is legitimate or not. and if not, whether it is in any way connected with the Arbogast case, is more than I am at present able to determine." After a short pause he continued': "When I found' that there was no chance of seeing Dr. Henderson him self. I inquired at a venture for the manager. For an instant a puzzled look lent expression to the otherwise vacuous features of the young man. Then a sudden inspiration seemed to come to him. 'Oh! ah! yes,' he ex claimed, 'you mean Mr. Smith.' 'Yes,' eaid I, catching at a straw. 'Well, but Mr. Smith is not in, either.' I offered to wait for Mr. Smith, and started to ward the door of the private office in the rear, because it bore in prominent leters the inscription: 'NO ADMIT TANCE.' 1 had turned' thu knob be fore the clerk could stop me; but the door was locked. - Mr. Smith, it seems, comes to the cffice only once a week to receive the clerk's report and to pay him his salary. 1 tried to make a spe cial appoint men V to meet Mr. Smith, on the plea of important business. 1 left a fictitious name and address so that Mr. Smith's answer might be sent to me. That was all I was able to do for the lime being; but I thought it worth while to keep an eye open on the Man hattan Chemical company; so 1 have engaged private detectives to watch it for me night and day until further no tice. And there the matter stands." Dunlap rose wearily from his chair. He looked anxious and careworn. "Mr. Sturgis," he said, "if you can find any part of that $250.U00, a good share of whatever you can recover for the bank is yours." The reporter flushed and bit his Hp; but he answered' quietly: "You mistake me for a detective. Mr. Dunlap; I am only a reporter. I shall be paid by the Tempest for any work I may do on this case. You would bet ter offer your reward to the police." CHAPTEIt XIV. THE LETTER. There is a magic in the refreshing sleep of youth calculated to exorcise the megrims. When after a good night's rest, found the world bathed in the sunshine of a crisp January d'ay, lie felt the physical pleasure of living which comes from supple muscles, from the coursing of a generous blood through the veins, from the cravings of a healthy appe tite. lie remembered the "blue devils" of the day before, and found it difficult to Account for them. He was in love, eer tainly. Hut that in itself did not fur nish u sufficient reason for desponden cy. It was rumored that the object of his affections was on the eve of be trothal to another. But what depend ence can be placed upon a public ru mor'? As a matter of fact Miss Mur dock wore no rings; in the absence of the badge of the betrothed woman, was lie not justified! in believing her fancy free? In that case, there was a fair field and no favor. Why should not lie have as good 'i chance of winning the prize as another mail? No man.of course, was worthy of Agnes Murdoek. That wast lie fundamental axiom. Cut in love success does not perch only upon the banner of tlie worthy. If it did, the human race would soon become ex tinct. So the young man's thoughts ran on, while hope once more found a resting place in his heart. Miss Murdoch was not to pose again, but Sprague was eager to work on the portrait, lie was about to step into the studio after breakfast, when the housekeeper announced a call from his lawyer, who wished to consult him about some important matters. The entire morning was thus consumed in necessary but tedious business, and it was not until after luncheon that the artist was at last free to set to work. Uncovering the portrait, he stood off to examine it. As he did so, something white upon the floor caught his eye. lie stooped to pick it up. It was a let ter in a beautifully regular masculine hand. Mechanically lie turned it over and unfolded it. llis eyes carelessly swept the written page; then in a flash he realized what it was, ami he Hung it violently from him. Only a few words liad left their im press upon his retina a few scattered words and. a signature. But these were branded deep upon his brain for all time, in letters of fire which burned their way to his very soul. For he had recognized the letter which had been delivered by the messenger to Miss Murdoek the day before, and he had seen enough to know that it was couched in words of passionate love. In that instant was quenched the last ray of hope which had lurked within his heart. Overwhelmed with a sense of utter desolation, he sank back upon a divan, and for a long time remained lost in bitter reflections. But Sprague, in spite of his dilet tantism, was a man of grit when oc casion called for it. at length his fortitude and his pride, he proceeded to carry out what he con ceived to be the duty of a gentleman un der the circumstances. Picking up the letter again, lie placed it unread in an envelope, into which he slipped his card, with a brief ex planation of the finding of the paper. Then, after addressing the envelope, he s-tarted out to mail it himself. "Thomas Chatham!" he*mused, as he went down the stairs; "Thomas Chat ham! Why. he is the man who took such pains to inform me that Miss Mur doek was betrothed, or on the point of being betrothed—the flashily dressed voting man with red hair who is so regular an attendant at the Murdochs' informal receptions, and who never seems to be invited on state occasions; an insignificant and conceited puppy. Poor girl, what a pity that she should throw herself away upon such a man. But, if he marries her, he shall make her happy, or else—" The balance of his thought was not put into words; but his face became set in stern line* and his hands clenched in grim determination. Sprague, with the letter for Miss Murdoek in his hand, hurried to the nearest letter box, raised the lid of the drop, inserted the letter in the slot and then tightened his grasp of it and be gan to think. The letter, if mailed, might perhaps not reach its destination until the fol- IN A FLASn HE REALIZED WHAT IT WAS. lowing morning. It might be of impor tance, since it had been sent by mes senger and to the studio instead of to Miss Murdoch's house. Besides, Miss Murdoek would probably be worried when she discovered that she had lost it. It ought therefore to be returned to her at one.?. The letter, by this time, lind been withdrawn from the slot of the letter box. Yes, it ough* to be returned by mes senger instead of by mail. By messen ger? It was about half a mile to the nearest district messenger office. The Murdoeks' house was not much f.irther. Why not deliver the letter himself? Why not, indeed? The humaa heart has unfathomable depths. Why should a hopeless lover pine for a mere sight of the woman w hose presence only adds to his misery? Explain that who can. Sprague carefully placed the letter iu .hi„ breast pocket and started off CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1900. agafn. this time directing his steps toward the Murdocks' home. CHAPTER XV. TWO LOVERS. Miss Murdoek was seated at the piano in the drawing-room, her shapely fin gers wandering dreamily over the keys, w hen a servant knocked at the door. "A gintlemau to see yer, miss," said the maid. "A caller!" exclaimed Agnes, in sur prise. "At this time of day? Did lie give you his card?" "No. miss, fv'or his name, nayther." "Well, then. Mary," said Agnes, with mixture of amusement and severity, "why do you announce him? I think you would better keep an eye on the liat-rack." "He ain't no thafe, miss," said the maid, positively; "he do be dressed up too foine fur that. Resoides, Oi'vc sane him here before. A liansuin young feller wid rid hair—Mister—Mister— Cha—Chapman." "Chatham!" suggested Agnes, with sudden seriousness. "Vis. miss; it do be the same." "1 cannot receive him," said Miss Murdoek, in frigid tones. "I am sur prised that John should have admitted him, after the explicit instructions I gave him yesterday. Hereafter I am never at home to Mr. Chatham." "Your butler is not at fault in this instance," said a voice from the hall way. and before either of the women could recover from her surprise, a flashily dressed young man with in tensely red hair entered the room. He carried his left arm in a sling. His face was pale; his eyes glittered with a feverish light; his voice quivered with repressed excitement. "1 was waiting for your father in his office, when I heard your maid go by, and I asked her to announce me. I hoped for, but I can hardly say I expected, a more hospitable recep tion." Miss Murdoek. after the first shock of surprise, had drawn up her grace ful figure to its full height, and stood looking at the young man with undis guised contempt in her flashing eyes. Chatham paused as if expecting a reply; and then: "Shall I explain the object of my visit before your servant?" he asked, bitterly. "You may leave. Mary, until 1 ring for you," said the young girl, turning to the maid. The woman reluctantly left the room, casting curious glances upon her young mistress and her unwel come guest as she went. Chatham made a motion as if to take a chair; but Agnes remained sig nificantly standing. "Perhaps," she said, coldly, "you will be good enough to explain as briefly as possible your object in forc ing your presence upon me 111 this un gentlemanly way?" "I suppose my conduct does strike you as ungentlemanly," said the youngman.piteously; "but what could I do? I love you devotedly, madly, and you will not allow me even to tell you so. You instruct your serv ants to turn me away from the door like a beggar. Is it a crime to love you ?" "No, Mr. Chatham," said the girl, more gently, "it is not a crime to love a woman; but it is at least a serious blunder to adopt the method you have selected of showing your affection, and it is certainly not generous to force it upon her as you are doing." "What else can I do?" he repeated, doggedly. "Here am 1 suddenly obliged to leave New York for a long time —perhaps forever—and unable to get a single word with you. 1 called yesterday morning and was informed that you were at that artist fellow's studio. Then I wrote you a letter, asking for an interview, and I left it there for you myself. The only notice you took of it was to give instructions to your butler not to admit me if I called again. I cannot go away like that, without a ray of hope to lighten my exile, and to leave you here sur rounded by a lot of men who are anxious to marry you." The tender-hearted girl felt a grow ing pity for the awkward and vulgar young man in whom she began vague ly to discern a genuine suffering. "I am sorry, Mr. Chatham," she said, "more sorry than I can say. But what can 1 do? I do not care for you in the way you wish, and af fection is not to be coerced. I have done the best I could to discourage you, because—" "I know you have," interrupted Chatham; "you have avoided me, and snubbed me, and taken every way you could to show that you do not like me." "It would have been mistaken kind ness to do otherwise," said Agnes, gently. "No, it wouldn't." exclaimed the ac countant; "I don't ask you to love me; not at once, at any rate. P.ut give me a show; give me time; give me a little hope—" "1 cannot do that,'' said the girl, in a low tone. "Why can't you?" urged the young man excitedly. "I have sacrificed ev erything for you; I have given up nil 1 had.; 1 have lost my position; 1 have risked my life—" "1 don't understand you," said Miss Murdoek, looking at him in astonish ment. "Your father would," he replied, huskily; "it was he egged me onto this; he promised me that you would have me—" "My father promised—" "Yes, your father; and, by G " Chatham, w ho was growing more and more excited, brought down his clenched fist tTpon a table near which he .stood, and with an evident effort re- I pressed the oath which rose to his lips. Miss Murdoek. startled and bewildered observed him in speechless amazement. | After ix momentary struggle, the ac countnnt suddenly broke forth in pite ous pleading: « "I don't ask much now. Tell me only one thing 1 and 1 shall go an-..y content for the present. Say that no other inao has any better chance with you than [ have. Say that you do not love anyone else." The young girl tried hard to avoid his ardent gaze. "Say it!" ha commanded, in .sudden sternness. Agnes drew herself up proudly then. "I don't know by what right you pre sume to catechise or to command nie," she said, coldly, at the same time milk ing a motion as if to touch the button of the electric bell. Chatham saw the motion and sprang before her to intercept it. "Ah! that is the way of it, is it?" he exclaimed, with passionate jealousy. "You are— in love —with another man!" The words seemed to choke him in the utterance. The blood rushed to his head; the veins on his temples stood out in purple vividness, and, as he clutched spasmodically at his collar, a wild light came into his eyes. Agnes caught their mad glitter and shrank back in sudden terror. "I have been duped!" he shouted, frantically. "1 have been a cat's-paw, Ssil HIS FINGERS rr.OSED NERVOUSLY ON THE HANDLE. and now that I have done all ihat was wanted of me I am to be turned off like a dog, with a kick. The dirty work is done, is it? We'll see about that; we'll see what your father has to say. Put, at any rate, you can be sure of one thing." His voice sank to a hoarse whisper and the words fell with impressive dis tinctness: "if I don't marry you, no one ever shall!" As he spoke he leaned forward upon the table which stood near him, and his fingers closed nervously upon the handle of a jeweled paper knife. There was murder in his eye at that moment, and the frightened girl quailed be fore it. Suddenly her ear caught the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She opened her lips to call for help, but before she could utter a sound the door opened, re vealing the anxious face of the nouse maid, who had heard enough to realize that it was time to interrupt the tete a-tete without further ceremony. "Mr. Sprague, miss," she an nounced, with a comforting nod at her young mistress, whose pale face and frightened eyes had not escaped her at tention. Sprague stood on the threshold in evident embarrassment, looking from Agnes to Chatham, and uncertain how to act. "I fear I am intruding. Miss Mur doch," he said at last; "your maid told me she thought you could re ceive me. Perhaps 1 would better call again." "No, no. Mr. Sprague," replied the young girl, effusively, coming toward him with outstretched hands; "I am so glad to see you." And then, observ ing his inquiring glance toward Chatham, "I think," she added, cold ly, "that this gentleman has aaidl all that he has to say to me." Chatham's excitement had subsided; in the reaction, he seemed ill and weak and he nervously clenched his tremulous right hand. "1 will wait to see Dr. Murdoek," he said, doggedly, in a low voice. "As you please," replied Agnes, aft er a slight hesitation. "Mary, show Mr. Chatham to the doctor's study." As the accountant followed the serv ant from the room, blank despair waa stamped in every feature, and it seemed to Sprague, as the door closed, that he heard something like a con vulsive sob. [To Be Continued] W lint Joseph AVni. The Sabbath school teacher had been telling the class about Joseph, particu larly with reference to his coat of many colors, and how his father rewarded him for being a good boy, for Joseph, she said, told his father whenever he caught any of his brothers in the act of doing wrong. "Can any little boy or girl tell me what Joseph was?" the teacher asked, hoping that some of them had caught the idea that he was Jacob's,favorite. "I know," one of the little girls said, holding up her hand. "What was he?" "A tattle-tale!" was the reply—Cia> cinnati Enquirer. , Poor Iluli.v. "I didn't quite like the way you fixed up my 'ad,* " jsaid the inventor of the hygienic nursing bottle. "What's the matter with it?" asked the ad. writer. "it's somewhat ambiguous. You say: 'When the baby is through with the bottle it should be taken apart, washed thoroughly with a hose and laid away in a cool place.' "—Philadel phia Press. ORIGIN OF KISSING. A 111*1 Ins »i I *!•«•«! I (1111 it n Sei«»ntl*t llie llintory of a Ipillar anil RlCA>>iiiK CUM((.*UI. According to I'rof. Cesare bombroso. tlic distinguished Italian criminologist, kissing is i|iiite a modern practice, and originated in a very curious manner. The kiss, as a token of affection, was un knot 11 tot he old Greeks, and neit her in Homer nor in Heroid do we find anj mention of it. Hector did not kiss his Andromache when he bade farewell, neither did Paris press his lips to those of the beautiful Helen, and I'lysses, who was more of a cosmopolitan than any man of his day, never dreamed of kissing the enchanting Circe, and when, after long wanderings, lie re turned home to his spouse. Penelope, lie satisfied himself with putting one of his stalwart arms around her waist and drawing her to him. The people of Terre del Ftiego, says I.oinbroso, have taught civilized na tions the origin of the delightful art of kissing. Drinking vessels are un known in that country, and the people, when they are thirsty, simply lie down beside brooks and drink the water as it flows by them. Jt is evident, how ever. that infants could not satisfy their thirst in this primitive fashion, and therefore their mothers have for ages supllied them with water by till ing their own mouths first and then lettnig it pass through their lips into the expectant mouths of their little ones. In some places the banks of the brooks and rivers are so high that wa ter cannot be obtained in the usual manner, and the mothers in such places draw it through long reeds. Birds feed their young 1 ones in a sim ilar manner. They first fill their own mouths with water and then transfer it to the wjde-open mouths of the little ones. This very ancient maternal practice is. according to Lombroso, the only source to which the modern prac tice of kissing can be traced. The cus tom of pressing one mouth to another originated with t he women in Terra del Fuego, who could only supply their in fants with drink in this manner, and it is presumable that they learned the lesson from the birds. Finally we are told that kissing is an evidence of atav ism and a memorial of that early stage of our development "during which the wife had not yet triumphed over the mother nor love over maternity." Lombroso's views on this subject meet with the general approval of sci entists, though there are some that point out that his explanation of the origin of kissing is not in accordance with the old one handed down to us by the old Romans. The latter maintained that the kiss was invented by husbands, who desired to ascertain in this way whether during their absence from home their wives had been drinking wine or not. HAS COME TO STAY. I'll** llrown-SkiiiiMMt tilrl. Win* Does .Vol Fenr the Sun. IN the Idol 11I' the Season. History does not always goon re peating itself; sometimes it has a brand new idea, so sweet, so wholesome anil sensible that one is amazed that it did not crop up before. Of such refreshing quality is that bronzy goddess the tanned girl. A de lightful variation on her sticky prede cessors of a few years back the cold cream girl, the face-bleach girl and the massage girl. The tanned girl is the wholesome product of the golf links, the catboat and the bicycle. She iias good looks to SHE DOES NOT I k,AH TIIE Sl'N. burn, and she burns them after the most approved method. Sun. rain. wind, heat and cold are ail one to this athletic young damsel. The veil is an unknown quantity, and her dressing table is innocent of complex ion lotions. The cold-creamed, freckle-fearing product of two or three generations ago seems to have got lost in the shut tle. Is she dead or gone for a inission a ry ? At all events, she has disappeared completely, and in her place is the care-free, bronzy being, with wind brow 11 locks, la ugh ingeyes and skin like a velvety brown nasturtium. You see her a'.l over (Tie coast, with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, sampling and matching her tan-coated arms with other mermaids. She goes in for a dip in the briny with almost tidal regular ity and slie scorns the sandfly who "sits it out" in a gaudy bathing siut. The brown-skinned girl has come to stay. Here's to her!— Chicago Aaier ican. Without 11 Oortor. Morton county, Kan., has no pay siciau or surgeon. QUEEN IS NOT LIKED. The Connorl of the \cn Kliir of Italy II UN llut I.idle P»|iu lu ri I y ivllli III* l*eo|ile. If is extremely doubtful whether Queen Helen, in spite of her undeniable beauty, tvill ever beeome so popular as her mother-in-Ift w, the now widowed Queen Margheritn. Cold and undemon strative, reserved and taeiturn rather than effusive, her qualities are calcu lateil to apepal rather to the I'iedinon tese highlanders like herself than to the population of the rest of Italy. There is no doubt that the disappoint ment freely ami unkindly expressed by the newspapers of the peninsula re garding her failure to fulfill national expectations in the presentation to the kindom of an heir to the throne has had the effect of raising-a sort of barrier of antagonism between herself and the people of her adopted country. She seems to feel that they resent her child lessness, while they, on the other hand, do not hesitate to express freely the disappointment of the dynastic hope which they hud based upon the mar riage. Queen Marglierita's popularity was a source of strength to her husband as ruler. Kven at the moment when, ow ing to the mistakes, domestic and for eign. of his ministers, he was most un popular and reviled as "the Austrian a \ M I -Ji '•! '' ' IIEI.EN, QUEEN OF ITALY. colonel," she always remained an ob ject of so much affection on the part of the people of every shade of political opinion that the field daisy was chosen in her honor as the emblem of a num ber of political societies, some of them, such as the Italia Irredenta, being hos tile alike to the government and to the king. But for a queen to be popular in 11aly it is necessary that be of 1 1alian birth and of Italian disposition, and neither the Montenegrin born Queen Helen nor yet the French born Duchess Helen of Aosta, who as wife of the heir apparent of the crown may eventually succeed her as queen, is ever likely to give the same amount of political sup port to her husband as Queen Margher ita was able to furnish to the late King Humbert Nor is it probable that she will ever share to the same degree as her mother-in-law the duties of her husband as ruler. Humbert was no toriously influenced in many matters by his consort, especially in connection with the triplt' alliance, which she in duced him to join. But Queen Helen is completely dominated by her dimin utive husband, w ho. like so many small men. is far too autocratic to accept any advice or to brook any interference, even on the part of his wife, in his duties as ruler.—-N. V. Tribune. HEALTH AND BEAUTY. >lll ii > I'Neful I.CNMon* >lay He licarned from an A«*treHM* Experience, Here Detailed. One of the most admired of Amer ican actresses, ooth for her grace and comeliness, has been divulging some of the secrets by means of which she has preserved her beauty. "Vigilance," she says, "is the first requisite. I am ever on the alert and when I discover traces of fatigue or any other beauty destroying symptoms in my face or figure 1 set about remedying it at once. I don't attempt to be anything but a professional woman during the theatrical season. I don t receive and don't goto other people's houses. I simply haven't time and I don't make it. My mode of life is very simple. I sleep nine or ten hours as a rule—nev er less than eight. 1 eat regularly and heartily and avoid everything that would be apt to give me indi gestion. Indigestion is a powerful foe to beauty, a greater foe than age, as great even as worry. 1 walk every day, rain or shine, and T wear ft Co;'fN ed corset waist and stout flat-heeled boots. I try not to worry no matter what happens and I never tire my self unnecessarily. My method is so very sinJfrf'* few women would care to try it. It has Jio balms or diets, and I don't even go in for fancy baths. A warm bath at night and a cold bath in the morning are good enough for me. On Sundays 1 don't have togo to the theater, but 1 don't devote it to lolling or receiving visitors. I have my usual amount of exercise and then devote most of the day to manicure and hairdresser. When one's hair is five feet long and very thick it is not an easy task to have it shampooed. How do I keep the same weight all the tinw? Why. by vigilance and de termination. If I gain a pound 1 im mediately stop driiking water at meals and give up sugar for awhile. If the bones in m\ neck begin to show I eat bananas and cream and put an extra spoonful of oil in my salad. It's so simple, but, of course, it precludes much pleasure."—Chicago Chronicle. lloiv to Clean White Shawl*. White summer shawls made of soft wools may be cleaned by rubbing them in several changes of magnesia and flour mixed.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers