6 A WOMAN'S SONG. Do you call my face a rose, With the time of rose 3 near? Find a truer name than this For the brow and lip# you kiss. For you know that roses die In the autumn of the year. And besides you, love, must I Front the frost and face the snows. I was never rose or star. One's too near and one's too far. I'm no pebble and no pearl. But a living-, loving girl, Mouth to kiss you, hand lo keep Touch with you while you're asleep. Ky<« to kindle when you're glad, Hope to climb where you would creep Tongue to comfort when you're sad. Call me wife ar.d comrade, dear. Call mo in itlier star nor rose- Then the day I need not dread When the sr.ow falls on my head. Then my soul to yours shall be Changeless, (hough my beauty goes. And the eyes I love not see Youth and grace forsaking me As the bees forsake a rose When the wind of autumn blows, Soul on soul looks In and knows All that's best of Vou and Me. —Nora Hopper, in Westminster Gazette. Copyright. 1599, by J. B. I.lppineott Com pany. All rights reserved. ( CHAPTER IX.—CONTINUED. Mammy came close to his arm. utter -111 «»■ a warning, wordless sound, and looking: fearfully about her. "De kerridge come for me in er rush des fo' day an' >ve took up de doctor at es office on de way hyah. When we g-o in dere. Miss Frances settin' in de big- chair shiverin*. He done tell me her mind b'en 'sturbed by 'er pa's dyin', an' not ter notice nothin" she say. Fus' t'ing we know 1 done foun' blood on 'er han's an' wrapper an'hit sho'ly ekeer'd me. But he won't talk an' she won't talk —''ceptin' ter tell him some body gointer shoot 'im fum de winder. He git out pretty quick 'bout dat time an' bimeby she go ter sleep, liut she ain' been 'erse'f since; an' she des won't talk 'bout dat night! She —" "Is that all?" "Fo" (Sod!" "Do you have cny idea who the man that was shot is?'' "No. sail. Ain' hvoh 'em mention es name nair time." "What young men does she know? Who visits her?" "Nobody. Sheain' been out dat yard jfate sence she came home 'cep'n to run 'round ter see de doctor or goto church or shop er little." "Does the gate stay locked?" "Mos' all de time locked. An' we alls keep de keys —Miss Frances an' me." "Mammy, you have been blind if you are telling the truth, and I think you are telling what you know. Now lis ten: if you wish to remain with me after 1 am married do just us I tell you. Go and find your daughter's husband —what is his name?" "Joe, suh." "Make Joe tell you all about this affair. Get back at once and come to toy room. Don't speak of this matter to anyone —don't say the man is dead. And quietly prepare to leave the city ■with your Miss Frances. If it becomes necessary to leave, we shall have no time to lose. Co; I rely upon you." "Joe done gone, sail!" she said; "doctor done sont him up de kentry." CHAPTER X. Holbin received the negro woman's report in desperation. Upon the sec ond night after, casting aside all scruples, he went to his mother's room. She had not retired, but was busy with her correspondence, which she put aside as her son entered the door. Without seeking to read them he saw "Washington, 1). C.." upon several sealed letters, a fact that he recalled later. The smile of pleasure which lit up her severe countenance disappeared when she noted the look of anger and distress on his face. "Well." she said, "are you still dis satisiied?" It was their first meeting alone since the death of John Brookin. "Do not congratulate yourself too soon, mother. The game is but hall played out, and we may find that strong cards are held against us." "What do you mean by that?" He walked the room, pausing at times before her as she sat in her arm chair. Her black eyes followed him. Her white face was frozen into an im penetrable mask. He described the occurrences of the last few days, and made a clean breast of it all, reserving only certain facts in connection witli his experience with Louise, among which was the existence of a child. These reservations he mentally classed as irrelevant. It is not likely that Raymond's con fessions greatly surprised his mother. She was, in fact, already familiar with most of his history. The disturbing elements of his statement were the dangerous character of Louise and the astounding circumstances of the shooting. Yet these drew from Mrs. Hrookin no comment, no evidence of excitement or dismay. She regarded her son silently and sternly for a few moments. then dropped iuto a chair. A flush at length overspread her white face. Raymond knew that it was the advance wave of a tide of anger and hesitated when she ordered him to ring the bell. She arose calmly, and cross ing the room pulled the bell cord as deliberately as though to summon her carriage. A few minutes after, during which time she stood rigidly looking lown on her son, William, the butler, p; eared. 'Go to Dr. Brodnar immediately," he said, "and tell him to come to me; ,h: t. Miss Frances is desperately ill.*' 'Mother!" She waved the servant away and turned upon her son with unrestrained anger. "Do you think that 1 fear him? Do you think that I shall sit quietly by and let him introduce people into'this house—into my stepdaughter's room— in the night and entangle u.. in his plots? Oh, that I were a man!" She was now a caged tigress, and giving freedom to long-suppressed fury. "It would be nothing less than the cow hide!" "Vou forget Frances." "I forget nothing! 1 realize, on the contrary, sir, that both Frances and her doctor are at my mercy now. lie dare not betray her! And this comes of your shameful dallying' with that woman —you!-—my soni— the puppet, the plaything, the slave of a —" "Wait, mother! Vou forget your self, at least—and me. lam not a child. A little more, and I shall leave this house not to enter it again. Be care ful what you say—and be careful of Frances. 'rove her guilty of any crime and you defeat your own plans." No amount of pleading, no love or affection on the part of her boy, could have swayed the tempestuous woman as quickly as open defiance. In such mo ments he resembled the one human be ing whose liery temper and relentless brutality had ever awed her. Ray mond played his part well: "Vou shall not denounce me for one infamy only to link me to another." "If you had shown such spirit with Brodnar." she said, bitterly. "If I had! Words—blows—a duel! Then the truth would have come out. To accept the responsibilities of the will afterwards would be contempt ible. No, mother, you women see but one side of such a matter. What would become of us should Louise make her self known? Start the police upon this matter, and they will ferret her out." "Why have you not taken her away? Vou have been imprudent in delaying that." "Nervous prostration. I have a nurse with her. To-morrow, if she may travel, I shall get her out of the city. For God's sake give me time to do that. Vou have no idea what you are risking." "Doctor out, ma'am," said William, returning at this moment. "Young* doctor say he will sen' 'im roun' des soon as he come back —dere now! front do' bell ringin' dis minute like some body tryin' to pull it tru' de do'. Dat's de doctor, ev'ytime." "Stand behind the portiere in my dressing-room," said the mother to her son, who was preparing to depart, "and under no circumstances let your self be seen!" Almost immediately Dr. Brodnar entered the room. "You sent for me. madam," he began. "Where is Frances?" "Asleep, I suppose. I have been guilty of a fiction, but my intentions are good. Dr. Brodnar, who was the man you took from my house wounded, and for what purpose was he here? I demand an instant answer!" "1 decline to make any statement, madam, touching my professional busi ness or to discuss this matter witii you. Good evening." "Hold, sir, or I shall place the affair in the hands of the police." "Hardly, I think. But proceed in that way if you prefer. Good evening." "You think that I am afraid of pub licity; wait and see! I shall tienounce you, sir,, over my, own signature. 1 "NO," SAID THE WRETCHED GIRL,, "iTOUR SECRET IS SAFE WITH ME." shall make your name a football for scandal mongers iu every town in this state." "And how about your son's, madam? Vou desire above all things that Ray mond Holbin shall marry your step daughter and inherit under the will of the man you coddled and bullied out of his senses. The name of the manr who was shot I shall not tell you, but I will tell you the name of the wom an who shot him —I thought you were the woman. I was mistaken, and for this error I owe you an apology." "This is infameus!" "I was mistaken, I say, honestly. For I thought that the woman who would retreat from her dying husband, appealing to her with his heart in his eyes, who would link an orphan girl to a libertine, might easily pull a trig ger to remove a lesser obstacle." The woman rushed up to him with hands clenched. "Scoundrel! If I had the weapon now I would prove your judgment! Outof my house!" Dr. Brodnar smiled wickedly. "i was mistaken," he continued, coolly; "the woman who shot this un known gentleman lies, half delirious, in room 28 at the Spotswood, and her name is Louise. And, madam. I will do her full justice; she erred in.her in formation and her aim. For the man she hoped to destroy was this liber tine, cashiered, swindling, cheating son of yours. Denounce me. but breathe a word against the fame of Frances Brookin, and I shall go before Richmond with my cause. Good even ing." lie bowed mockingly, and was turn ing away when the portiere was flung violently aside and Holbin rushed on him from behind. A keen knife in his hand flashed in the gas light and fell, but once only. Maddened with the pain and enraged at the cowardly at tack, Brodnar lifted his assailant from CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JUNE 13, 1901 the floor and hurled him across the room, ire fell in a heap against the wall, the knife rolling- to the feet of the frantic woman. To snatch it up and throw herself upon the athlete was an instant's action; but she was impotent to harm him then. lie seized her wrists and turned the right one slowly but remorselessly. Her pale lips uttered no sound, but the long white fingers relaxed at length under the terrific ordeal and the knife fell to the floor. Kicking- it across the room, lie pushed the woman away, and stepping- outside the dor, closed it be hind him. lie heard the furious ring ing of the butler's bell, and soon be held William running clumsily through the hall. He had opened the front door, but the servant having passed, he changed his mind, and hav ing- slammed the door made his way down and back to the wing- occupied by Frances. She had retired, but arose at once. "Bring- your key and let me out at the gate," he said, "and quickly," She threw on her wrapper and wondering ly obeyed. "I have found the other woman in the ease," he continued, hur riedly as they traversed the garden. "It- is all very sad, my child, and too late now to be remedied." He could not see the girl's face nor understand that there was room for any miscon struction of his statement; that her mind was occupied with Richard Som ers, as his had been with Holbin. Frances felt as though the blood was freezing in her veins. "What, woman?" "The woman who did the shooting!" "Why —why—what was her motive?" "Jealousy!" he replied, briefly. "What I want to say to you is this: something has happened to-night that will prevent my returning here. You must came to see me occasionally, and always when needing advice or help. In the meantime keep up your courage. Nobody can disturb the big fact in our case. We have the law on our side. I shall explain it all some time. And our wounded friend—you don't ask of him —is better and impatient. He will leave Richmond to-night. Good-by." "Oh, wait!" cried the girl in an guish. "The woman—where is she?" "At. the Spotswood and ill." He felt the blood running from a stab in his shoulder down his arm, and, fearful of the effect should the excited girl dis cover that he was wounded, he hurried away to his assistant. Frances waited at the gate, her face in her hands, her heart aching. With a sudden and de spairing resolution she went back to her room. "Quick, mammy, help me to dress; I must goto the hotel!" "Lord 'a' mussy, chile, what de mat ter?" "Help me, mammy—quick! Don't ask any questions." Frances started away, wringing her hands and sobbing, but in the crowded streets, where men were cheering and cannon firing over the announcement that. Virginia had seceded, and thou sands of torch-lights blazed the way, she grew firmer. The general excite ment was in her favor and no one at tached importance to her visit. She reached and entered the sick woman's room, and, motioning away the hired nudse, dropped upon her knees by the bedside. Louise, calmer under the opi ates administered by the doctor, re garded her as she might have one de scended from the clouds. Something like a spasm of fear passed over her, for in the lovely face beside her she seemed to see the image of her own youth re peated. "Who are you?" she asked, wildly. "Your friend. Don't excite your self." "Your name? your name?" "Frances Brookin! And, oh, lam so sorry for you, .so very sorry!" Louise seemed to have heard only the name, which she repeated softly, wonder ingly. "Frances Brookin! And your father —who was he?" "John Brookin." "Ah. my God!" And the face upon the pillow was turned away in shame and confusion. After awhile she looked back, a strange light in her eyes. "What do you want of me?" she asked, suspiciously. "I wanted to tell you," said Frances, covering her face and sobbing anew, "that 1 didn't know—of you! That i'f I had no power on earth could have won my consent. Oh, I have been de ceived—cruelly, cruelly." Louise, who was ignorant that Fran ces was the girl in the room at the time of the shooting, now saw her op portunity. She raised herself eagerly. "You are my rival, then. You came 011I3' in pity." "Yes. And to ask your forgiveness. You have nothing to fear from me." A glad light filled the eyes of Louise. She could with difficulty restrain her self and control her voice. "I believe you," she said. "You will not take him from me—from his child!" "His child!" Frances was shocked and dismayed. "His child! Is there a child—of his?" "\es," said Louise, "but if you reveal that I shall never be allowed to see her again. You will not tell, will you?" "No," said the wretched girl. "Your secret is safe with me. And, oh, I be lieved in him —I trusted him so!" She wrung her hands and turned away her face. "It is fortunate you found him out in time," said Louise; "with me, it was too late—too late! But please do not stay here. How did you find me out?" "The doctor. He told me about you. lie has told me everything, and I want ed to see you." "Don't cry, my dear child. What seems a great sorrow to you now is really a blessing. You have made a miserable woman happy by you» coming. Go now! He may enter at any moment, and it would be painful. Go, and don't tell anyone of this visit. Will you promise?" "I shall keep your secret,"' said Frances, "it is safe wiih me. For give me—if I have made you w»- happy." "I am sorry for you," said Louise, simply. Frances lifted her head proudly. "You need not be. I am shocked and mortified; that is all. To-mor row I shall cease to remember him." She was going when Louise called her back. "Let me see your face again, my child. Ah, how beautiful you are! Good-by, I trust you. Don't grieve about liim. He cannot ever be trust ed. You w r ere to be the victim of a plot, and your friends are deceiving you. Why, the man is poor; ruined, unless he gets your fortune. He came from Europe to marry you—ah, (iod. he deserted me, he betrayed his child—for your money. Trust none of them, for they are desperate. They take advantage of your youth—they would persuade you into a hurried marriage—" "But I could not, I could not be bound legally by such a travesty— such a fraud!" "Your fortune would, and that is what he wants —that, and not you. Secure in that, he would be willing to let you go forever. Oh, but I know him. Give him the shadow of a title to your fortune and you are lost!" "But to think that Dr. lirodnar could have deceived me so—my moth er's friend! I cannot, I cannot be lieve it!" "My child, trust no one. Possibly the doctor himself was deceived; it has been long since he knew him; and the man is a finished actor. Trust no man. The man who will not deceive a woman for his own ad vantage does not live. I know the world. If I do not, who does?" Frances took the hanu of the sick woman in both of her own and held it in sympathy and grief. "I must leave 3'ou," she said, brok enly. "Will you not tell me your name? I shall always remember you in my prayers." Louise half raised herself in the bed. "My name! Then he did not tell you all. No, my child, do not seek to find out my name. Pray for me, if you will —and remember me as a woman more sinned against than sinning. Good night and good-by." [To Be Continued.] MORDANT JESTINGS. ClinrneteriHic Wltilcixnui of Certain Celebrities in the Oi«l llroea in France. Montesquieu boldly defined a lord as "a man who sees the king, speaks to the minister, has ancestors, debts and pensio-j." Prudhomme chose in 1798 as his mot to for his new "Journal des Revolu tions de Paris:" "The great only seem great because we are on our knees; let us get up." When the Bien Aime himself com placently said of the farmers general —those wicked tax gatherers, the grasping publicans of old France— that they sustained the state, Due d'Ayen had the courage to answer: "Yes, sire, as the rope sustains the criminal." The anecdote is, after all, but a preface to the familiar one of Voltaire, who, at the party when everyone was telling robber stories, had nothing to say but "Once, gentle men, there was a farmer general," to receive the honors of the evening, says Cornhill Magazine. The times were, indeed, fast ripen ing or rotting to revolution. A wom an's beauty and unscrupulous!! ess could still fill government offices with her friends, and her cleverness be trusted to keep their influence hers and turn the point of any honest re buff. Chancellor Maupeou was taMiinj, one day to Mine. Lapclletier de Beau pre, who had persuaded all her many relatives instate berths to oppose the chancellor's changes: "It is a grea' pity, madam, women mix themselves ii affairs they understand 110 more than geese." "And don't j'ou know," she answered, "it was the geese that saved the capitol?" The wit would have put her right in the estimation of that strange world, if she had been a thou sand times more in the wrong. So long as one was amusing! The ICmperor'a Portrait. When Mr. Charles Denby was minis ter to China a publisher wrote to him asking him to procure a photograph of the emperor of China. Ilis reply, printed in a New York exchange, shows that the pictures published as like nesses of the emperor cannot be trust ed. Mr. Denby wrote asi follows: "It would afford me great pleasure to send you a photograph of the emperor if one cou'.d be procured. After mak ing inquiries I find thathis photograph, or portrait of any kind, has never been taken. "The Son of neaven is not visible to any foreign eye except when foreign ministers are received in audience. On such occasions all cameras or sketch books are absolutely forbidden. "When the emperor goes out in his sedan-chair all the cross streets are barricaded with mats, and every door and window by which he passes is closed. Should anyone be caught spy ing, death follows immediately." That Gorsre. Mr. and Mrs. Dawson held an "at home" at their house in Manchester on the occasion of their return from a winter tour on the continent. They were very proud of the trip, and Mrs. Dawson was continually asking her husband if he remembered this, that, or the other glorious bit of scenery. "And, oh, the gorge at Andermatt!" she exclaimed. "You haven't forgot ten that lovely gorge, have you, Fred ?" "The gorge at the Grand hotel?" drawled Fred, wearily. "By no means! I'll remember that gorge to my dying day Why, bless me, it was the only square meal we got in Switzerland'"—Loudon Answer** WHAT POLITENESS DID. A I..lttie Comedy of Krrorn in "Wit 101 l an 111- Mn 11 iiort'd Yellow Pup Played the Slur Part. Frequent meetings at the church guild, at the afternoon card club and a few calls constituted the acquaint anceship of Mrs. Becker and Mrs. Cas t-ell. Nevertheless they were good enough chums. They knew each other's 1 roubles with servants, their favorite tailors, and, as both were dog lovers, had heard of each other's wonderful ca nine pets. As Mrs. Cassell swished up the front steps leading to Mrs. Keek er's house the other afternoon a mis erable, ugly, little yellow dog skipped ii]> beside her and w hen the door was opened shot inside ahead of her. The animal was an irretrievably common place cur, and Mrs. Cassell was ap palled. "The very idea!" she said to herself, "of her boasting so over her dog. My terrier wouldn't condescend to look at him!" She endeavored to conceal her hor ror of the little animal frisking around the reception room and to veil her pity when her hostess arrived. To Mrs. Cas sell's amazement Mrs. Becker endured with equanimity the dog's careening across her satin upholstered chairs with frightfully wet and muddy feet, and beyond one quick look said never a word when he danced on a white sofa cushion embroidered in apple blossoms, but continued her conversa tion amiably. Mrs Becker's housewifely soul was shocked. "Foolish as I may be over iny Fido," she said to her inner con sciousness, "1 would not, be so ridicu lous as to smile while he ruined the furniture." When the little dog, with his home ly face, pranced across to Mrs. Becker and impudently planted those same feet in the lap of her delieate-hued house gown she did not repulse him, but with what Mrs. Cassell mentally decided was an idiotic smile, even pat ted his head and called him fond names. It was too much and Mrs. Cas sell's opinion of her good friend dropped to zero with a thud. As she carried on a light conversation with her strangely benighted hostess she was assuring herself that charming manners, a love for good deeds and a pretty face did not make up for servile devotion to such a ragged rat of a dog as the one which at the mo ment was placidly chewing up the en pensive lace curtains and tearing them with his paws. As the animal, unre proved, swallowed a whole renaissance THE CUR THAT FOLLOWED lIER. laec flower he had abstracted from the body of the curtain her feelings over came her, politeness or not. "Mrs. Becker," she said, "don't you think you ought to see to your dog? Look what he is doing." Her hostess' face flushed, for dog lovers are touchy. "My dog?" she re torted, with the accent 011 the pro noun. "My dog, I'd have you know, behaves himself. I think if you'll re strain your own pet over there it might be as well." Mrs. Cassell stared at the yellow cur. "My dog?" she repeated, dazed ly. "That thing my dog?" And the indignation in her voice would have freighted a ship. The two women were on their feet In bewilderment. "He came in with you," persisted Mrs. Becker, "and of course I thought he was your dog you've talked about so much, and naturally I couldn't say a word while you sat there and let him spoil all my furniture and my clothes." "1 thought he was yours," broke in Mrs. Cassell, vehemently, "and have been perfectly horrified at the way you've let him goon the last 15 min utes " As light broke in there was a con certed rush and a mischievous little yellow pup was ejected from the house with a haste which made up for for mer tolerance. And then caller and hostess had a real sociable time over the gasoline bottle and two cleaning cloths instead of the conventional teapot. —Chicago Daily News. Print COVOTM for Furniture. Covers should always be provided for furniture, to lie used when sweep ing. Heavy print will last for years, or a fine, close cheesecloth makes good dusting sheets, if different colors are used for the different heavy pieces of furniture and the covers are made in varying size to fit the pictures and furniture much time will be saved. Cal ico bags for the ends of the curtains will also keep them from becoming ■oiled during the sweeping. WOMEN IN POLITICS. Mary A. Mrcrmnrr, leclnrirr nn4 Author, Saym Their Influence la Great unci 1 uSelllyent. Women are organized to-day as never before in the history of thrf world. Their clubs, le&gues. councils, circles, unions, chapters and associa tions for all kinds of purposes are in evidence by the thousands, and th«?ir memberships run up into the million. In these organizations lectures are delivered on all conceivable topics, and not alone on "art, literature and MARY A. LIVERMORE. (Author, Lecturer and Advocate of Wom an's Rights.) Browning," as the mahgners of clubs would have us believe. Every social and public question under heaven is openly discussed in these societies by women appointed beforehand, and who have prepared themselves for the occasion, and reports of the debates are published in their official organs. Inevitably, this enlarges the educa tion of women and assists them in the formation of opinions concerning the mooted questions of the day in which men are interested. The average wom an is as well educated as the average man, perhaps better, and is quite as well informed, and men know it. 16 is no uncommon thing to hear a man say nowadays: "My wife feels deeply about this Filipino war," or "this can teen question. I have not had time to read and think about it, as she has, but I'm inclined to believe she's right." The "political influence" of women is felt strongly in towns and cities of Massachusetts when a local election is pending. Few of the 120 towns of the state that voted a no-license law last year could have done it without the help of women. They held no-license rallies, arranged for effective speak ing and music, distributed literature, invoked the aid of the ministers and churches, canvassed for votes, and sup plemented the men with whom they worked in every way possible. Thirty three of the states of the union have local option laws in some form on their statute books, which means that on this one vital question alone women exert an enormous "political influ ence." Women have been the saddest sufferers from the liquor traffic from time immemorial, and they may be trusted to hit it hard when they have a chance. Women took a deep interest in the election of Hon. Mr. Bates during the last gubernatorial campaign. They had no especial grievance against his competitor, but a mighty preference for Mr. Bates. The entire makeup of the man, his past record and the prom ise of the future given by his life and character constituted him the candi date who should be elected, in the es timation of not a few women of in fluence and activity. "Persuade the men of your household and acquaint ance to vote for Rates" became their watchword. I must not tell tales out of school, but the methods that were quietly and persistently followed must have had their influence with voters. "Has woman any influence in pol itics?" Ask Brigliam Roberts, the Mormon polygamist, who would now be a member of the lower house of congress but for the women of the country, who threw their influence against him solidly, until he was sent back to ( tali, and, like the lamented Hon. J. J. Ingalls, became "a statesman out of a job." Does somebody rise to inquire: "Why women do not exert their political in fluence in behalf of school suffrage, which has been granted them in this state?" They do not have school suf frage, only school committee suffrage, which is another thing. They are not consulted in the nomination of the ticket for school committee, cannot at tend the caucuses, and are only al lowed to vote for a list of men of whom they know nothing, who are put in nomination by politicians of whom they know nothing. Before they can use this fragment of a right they are required to observe all the usages and forms which give men the full bal lot. How many men could be dra gooned to the polls under similar cir cumstances?— Mary A. Livermore, ill Chicago Tribune. When the Children Snore. Snoring is a symptom that should not be neglected in children. It shows that there is some obstruction to the free passage of air from the nose to the throat. The tonsils may be en larged, and partially close the passage at its lower opening. There may be polypus or some small tumor in the nasal passage itself, or catarrh of the throat or nose, or both. A physician should be consulted. Ladies' Home Journal. lee In the Sick Ilonm. One way to keep iue in the sick room is to fasten a piece of flannel in a deep tin pan or pail so that it will sag in the middle, but will not touch the bottom of the pail. In this flannel a piece of ice can be put and so wrapped in its enveloping folds that no air can reach it. When small pieces need to be broken off a pin, prefera-. bly a hat pin, can be used.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers