6 LIFE'S LESSON. Tla but folly and madness to sit down in sadness, - And sigh for the past when the future Is ours; Though the way may be dreary, and the heart faint and weary, j We may list for the bird songs and look for the flowers. tt Is true there are hours when bird songs and flowers i Would mock with their beauty and brightness our gloom: When to ease the heart's ae'ning, we would welcome its breaking, To gain thus the stillness and rest of the tomb. Whon springing all 'round us are sharp thorns that wound us. And many the pitfalls that lie In our way: When over life's meadows hang fierce, threatening shadows. And Hope's beacon sheds not one glim mering ray. But the dark clouds that over life's fair meadows hover May be freighted with blessings and melt soon to rain; While the sun's brighter shining will shame our repining. And the landscape stands out in its glad ness again. Tho' life hath its losses, Its cares and Its crosses. The loss and the cross may still be for our best, And each homely duty hold some hidden beauty, E'en by labor we learn the sweet mean ing of rest. Thus by pain may we measure the worth of each pleasure— We value our wealth by the wants we have known; And joy alter sorrow, by contrast we bor row A completeness and sweetness fuller e'en than its own. ♦-Alice R. Corson, in Minneapolis House keeper. HARR^T^Yv'ELL^gD* Copyright, 1599, by J. B. Lipplncott Com pany. All rights reserved. CHAPTER X III. —CONTINUED. Holbin had heard of Frances* latest whim, the union soldier. He had not interested himself in the hitter's wel fare, but he made liis appearance in the wingroom ou the day after Louise had been pacified, and, finding only mammy there with the wounded man, he entered and engaged him in cheer ful conversation. He gave him the latest news from the front, and sup plied him with cigars. Responding to these attentions, the soldier readily told his story. When the name of Rich ard Soiners, his former enemy, was reached, Holbin was visibly excited. Still, not for one instant did it occur to him to connect the presence of the wounded man in that room with the fact that Somers was his captain; and the soldier himself naturally took it for granted that the cause of his pres ence was well understood by all. Frances found Holbin there, and stood silently resentful upon the threshold until he had explained his visit. "I am told by the clerk in the de partment," he said, "that you had secured a pass for your protege, and 1 was repentant that you had been forced to ge there in person. I have called now to offer my assistance. There is something else to be done for t wounded man besides getting liim a pass. He must have transportation and assistance generally." "I have been thinking of that," she admitted, troubled. "If I may be allowed to do a wound ed enemy a service," said Holbin, "I shall take him in my buggy to our outposts." "1 am sure that he will be greatly obliged." The soldier expressed him self grateful, and IlolbirT went away, making light of the service and with out further effort to trespass upon the girl's rare mood. On the inner stair be paused in deep thought, his dark face savagely triumphant. His moth er met him in the hall above and read excitement in his every move ment. "What is it, Raymond?" He hesi tated and smiled wickedly. "I am afraid even you would be shocked, mother mine. Hut trust me, when I do tell you about it, you will not be ashamed of your cub." "Raymond, how dare you?" The woman's face grew crimson, and then white as from a sudden terror. He showed his teeth and disappeared be fore she could stop him. Angry and uneasy, she sought her own room. The wounded soldier rode next day wit.h Raymond Holbin, his pale face reflecting the light of liberty's sun riot yet risen for him, his blue uni form dusted and cleaned until every button was as of gold. "Good-by, miss," he said; "I'll de liver your message, an' I know the cap'n 'll be a proud man to see me back!" He offered mammy his last greenback, but it was indignantly re fused, witnesses being present. "Dat green money ain't no good down here nohow." "It will be," said the soldier, sim ply- Holbin returned next day and gave a vivid account of his parting with the happy prisoner; and then he im mediately sought his own room; but not before Frances, a little ashamed of herself, had thanked him warmly for his kindness to her soldier. tTpon the same day the confederate relief picket found a federal soldier lying dead within their lines. He he.(l been shot from behind with a pistol held so close to his coat that it was burned by the powder. The tffair afforded but a few minutes' discussion, for the explosion of fire arms was almost incessant at times, and dead men in June, 1862, were plentiful around Richmond. The only part of the mystery worth consider ing from the military standpoint was bow th* Uiau got through the lines at that particular place. A watch taken from his body contained the names of Capt. Richard Somers and the regi ment to which he was attached, and also the likeness of an elderly wom an. It was surmised that the victim of the pistol shot was a deserter and robber; that he had been captured and. killed while attempting' violence or an escape. The officer into whose possession the watch drifted was in charge of a burial party next day un der a flag- of truce, and, learning that Capt. Somers was among the troops opposite, sent the watch to him with a courteous explanation. The grati fication of Capt. Soiners was only equaled by his bewilderment. Many weeks before he had intrusted the jewel to his faithful artilleryman, and thi.s soldier, he had been assured, was left dead upon the bloody battlefield. His conclusion was that some one had robbed the body at that time and had been overtaken by fate while en gaged in some other nefarious enter prise. But when Capt. Somers cas ually opened the loeket and found therein a long, slender curl of red dish-golden hair and on the narrow ribbon with which it was tied the name "Frances," he was involved in a hopeless mystery. He was within sound of the lliclimond church bells that morning, and between the inter vals of fighting and moving to new positions he had already in imagina tion entered that city. The name thus sent was the only tidings of Frances he had ever received, and it made him a sadly happy man. CHAPTER XIV. Locked within his own room, Ray mond llolbin drew from his pocket the packet of papers taken by him from the murdered man with the official order for which he had committed the crime. The order read: "Pass the bearer, Thomas Riley, paroled prison er, through the lines." "It will not do Loiuse much g-ood, anyway," he said, "even were I disposed to give it to her." The name "Martha Somers" upon the sealed packet attracted his attention, and he recognized in a Dela ware address beneath the home of Richard Somers. He remembered then the dead soldier's description of the battle in which he was wounded, and guessed that the packet contained the papers given to him to deliver. llolbin would hardly have troubled himself to wade through a score of farewell pages from a soldier to his mother, and would have promptly destroyed the whole collection, but that the remaining en velope. addressed to Richard Soiners. lay before him, and upon it his eye caught the Brookin crest. "This is very different," he said to himself with interest. "Let lis see what Frances has to say to the fellow." He broke the seal and read: "I send you back, well and free, the man who saved your life; X found him grievously wounded—a prisoner. It is all that I have been able to do in return for your kindness to me, a stranger, and for the wound you received in my house. Think me not indelicate when I say that the sweetest memory my heart carries is in the memory of your face beneath the match that night and of the words 'Frances, my wife,' which you have en graved in your locket, and over which I have placed a message to you. Forgive me; it can never mutter much, for a sea of blood rolls between us. Good night. God be with you till we meet—in Heaven. "FRANCES." Holbin sat gazing blankly upon the lines. His head was in a whirl. "Her husband! her husband! Pshaw!" he exclaimed with an uneasy laugh, springing to his feet and begin ning to walk the floor, "this conies of the damnable work out yonder to-day; my nerves are simply unstrung." He took a bottle from his dresser, poured out a stiff drink, and tossed it off with one gulp. Then he went back to his k g SMjUr t|| mm THE CONFEDERATE PICKET FOUND A FEDERAL. SOLDIER LYING DEAD WITHIN THEIR LINES. table and. picking up the letter, read aloud: "wound received in my house" —"your face beneath the lighted match." As he stood thus the letter slipped from his hand. "Louise!" he whispered, "the r.;an whom Louise shot!" Not in all the vicissitudes of his wild career had Holbin received such a shock of surprise. His mind, dazed and bewildered, could not ar range a deduction beyond the discov ery that Richard Somers was the man around whom so much of mystery had gathered, and that Frances referred to him in the tender word "husband." He laid his hand upon the bell-cord and hesitated; then his wicked smile came back again as he pulled it. "Tell your mistress I shall be glad if she will favor me with her presence here," he said to William. When, a few minutes later. Mrs. Hrookin came into the room he failed to hear her. "What is it, Raymond?" she asked. He roused himself and spoke rapidly. "Frances got her bounded soldier a pass through our lines, and to please her I carried him to the front. After he left me I'found these papers in the buggy where he had dropped them. The fellow's captain is Richard Somers." "Richard Somers!" "And now, madam, read the note 1 from Frances to him and let me con , gratulate you upon—" CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JULY 18, 1901. She read it rapidly, and when her atna»<d face was lifted lie added': "L'aur son-in-law." "I do not understand! What does it mean?" "Answer that question for me. moth er; my head has ceased to be of any assistance. Undoubtedly, however, the woman who you lead me to believe gave you her promise to marry me some day is already in point of law Richard Somer's wife and has forfeited her right to any part of her father's es tate. Madam, fortune favors the bold; I congratulate you!" His manner be trayed au intense excitement and bit terness. "Wait, wait!" said the woman, qui etly, her eyes riveted upon the letter. "It seems that he was her husband that night. Was not that, night prior to the signing of the will?" "Yes, the night before." The son, looking upon his mother's face, eould find no evidence of satisfaction there. It was ghastly. "Why, what is it now?" "A stronger will and a clearer head than we imagined has been at war with us. I do not know the law, but they were trying to defeat the will in ad vance. It does defeat it in some way, or our enemies would not have taken the risk. If Frances were really mar ried before the will was signed, she cannot comply with its requirements, and the law will not demand an impos sibility." "Well!" lie bent forward, his voice reduced to a whisper. "We have lost, you and I. Except for my pittance, we shall be. beggars upon the day that Frances conies of age; and that day is near at hand." A long silence followed, and then the eyes of mother and son met. "I>o you not share alike if the will fails?" "No. The intention of my husband will be operative; only the condition fails. There is no hope that way." liis mother looked from him and spoke slowly. "Is there no remedy?" he asked. "Yes. If Richard Somers is not liv ing when Frances comes of age, or should Frances —" "Mother, mother, take care!" The words burst in sudden energy from the wretched man. "Lift a hand to harm but one hair of her head, and, by the Mother of God —" "ilush! Hush!" she said, quietly. "You love her; that is enough. She is safe." "Swear it." "Read the other letter," she said, disregarding him. "It is likely that a man would mention his wife in his last letter to his mother." Raymond stripped off the envelope and shook two letters to the table. One. unsealed, was addressed to Mrs. Martha Somers. "Nothing but gush," he said, running his eye hurriedly over the lines. Mrs. Brookin had picked up the other, which was addressed to Dr. Brodnar. "We are getting to the heart of the mystery," she said. "Head this one." Raymond read in silence first, and then, leaning forward, excitedly read aloud: "Goto the girl I married at your request and say death has dissolved the bond. Break the news to her as gently as pos sible, for I have been vain enough to be lieve that the child loves me. You pre pared the way by your partiality, and her loneliness and excess of gratitude accom plished the rest. Let me confess that I have been foolish enough to love her and to dream that some day you would permit me to return and openly seek her out. But this cursed war has killed my dream, Brod nar, and if this letter reaches you, it will be after it has killed your friend also! Go to her and say that since he met her Rich ard Somers has loved her as a man loves but once." There were other lines dealing with the friendship between the two men while in Paris and containing a tender farewell. "'lt is now plain to me," he said. "The meddlesome scoundrel Brod.nar is the author of the whole plot!" Mrs. Brook in folded the letters into their places. Her hands were without a tremor. "Let them keep their secret. To in form them is to arm them. We will continue to be—their dupes. Richard Soiners may not be living when Fran ces reaches twenty-one; who can tell? The man who lost those letters has, I suppose, ere this made a full report." "Thtunian who lost the letters, moth er, has reported elsewhere with a bul let through his heart." "Raymond!" "What docs it matter? We are kill ing them in front of our lines every day. One behind counts for little. He had a pass; I needed it.l need it now more than ever." The woman's face glowed with a sudden light. "You are too rash, my boy; take no steps before consulting me. In the meantime these papers have no value for us. Burn them, burn them now! But no! give me the letter to Brod nar; it may be valuable some day as evidence that Richard Somers is dead." One by one Holbin held the others over lighted matches and saw them vanish into cinders. His moth er placed her hand upon his shoulder. "Raymond, you are again planning to cross the lines—" "I know what I am doing! Do not seek to influence me." "What do you mean?" "There is no time for explanation, nor is there any need, for you already understand. It is sufficient to say that I am going across the lines for more than one purpose now." "There are all sorts of people in an army," she said; "I have seen it stated that many officers killed in battle are shot from behind." "That is one," he replied, "and men who serve their country in time of war are forgiven many things. 1 am in possession of that which will se cure for me a review of my case ar.d restore to me my commission. I have offered my sword to the confederacy once; the next time 1 will offer it point first!" "You have valuable information for sale. Is that what you mean? Go slow upon that line; if you draw your sword against Virginia openly you sacrifice all interests here. Better be a friend to both sides, and when yon come back with proofs that Richard Somers is really dead all may yet be well. If she is free at 21 the will is binding, even if it were held that she has not already sacrificed her in» terest." "Come what may," he said, pas sionately, "while I live Brodnar shall never see Frances Hrookin the wife in truth of Richard Somers." "Nor while I live," said his mother; "there is my hand upon it." "Keep out of it, mother, keep out, or you will regret it!" said the wretched man. "Ungrateful boy! Where is your promise? Do you repudiate that? Have you forgotten your danger?" "No, but she shall not suffer at your hands. Leave her to me. And, mother, if you ever find us dead to gether in that room downstairs, have no thought of me. The man who has neither love nor revenge has noth ing to live for." He seized his hat and rushed from her presence. [To Be Continued.] HE WAS A MIGHTY RICH MAN. Hot III* Wealth Cunxlated In Never Online Anyone a Cent. A gentleman recently took a ride with an old New England farmer through one of the pretty little vil lages that are common in that region, during which some of the men in tho neighborhood came under criticism, says the Chicago Times-Herald. Speaking of a prominent man in the village, the traveler asked: "Is he a man of means?" "Well, sir," the farmer replied, "he hasn't got much money, but he's mighty rich." "He has a great deal of land, then?" was asked. "No, sir, he hasn't got much land, either, but he is mighty rich." The old farmer, with a pleased smile, observed his companion's puzzled look for a moment and then explained: "You see, he hasn't got much money and he hasn't got much land, but still he is rich because he never went to bed owing a man a cent in all his life. He lives as well as he wants to live, and he pays as he goes. He doesn't owe anything, and he isn't afraid of anybody. He tells every man the truth, and does his duty by himself, his family and his neighbors. His word is as good as his bond, and every man, woman and child in the town looks up to him and respects him. No, sir, he hasn't got much land, but he's a mighty rich man, because he's got all he wants." The I.nnd of Clientnnta. The home of chestnuts is in France, where an enthusiastic ad mirer declares that they are "as common as beans in Boston." On such an extensive scale are they cul tivated that one factory in Lyons handles over 25,000,000 pounds every year. The "marrons" are of cou»se the great luxury, but among the poorer classes the smaller chestnuts, or "schataignes," are eaten. The United States consul at Lyons, John C. Covert, visited a large chestnut factory which employs 250 women and girls. The chestnuts are peeled and boiled and placed for three days in a vanilla sirup; then they are drained, coated thinly with vanilla and prepared for shipment. Mr. Covert is anxious that Amcj-ica should go extensively into chestnut growing, and believes that as sugar is 50 per cent, cheaper here than in France, the candied product would soon undersell the French article. However, as marron trees do not yield profitably till they are ten years old, Mr. Covert admits tha there is no immediate prospect of a reduction io the price of the candied nuts.—Youth's Companion. Qnrer South African Untile. A traveler in South Africa tells of a queer battle he once witnessed. He was musing, with his eyes on the ground, when he noticed a caterpillar crawling along, followed by hundreds of small ants. Being quicker in their movements, the ants would catch up with the caterpillar, and one would mount his back and bite him. Paus ing, the caterpillar would turn his head, and bite the ant and thus kill the tormentor. After slaughtering a dozen or more of his persecutors, the caterpillar showed signs of fatigue, and the ants then made a combined attack. Betaking himself to a stalk of grass, the caterpillar climbed up, tail first, followed by the ants. As each one approached, he seized it in his jaws, and threw it off the stalk. The ants, seeing that the caterpillar had too strong a position for them to overcome, resorted to strategy. They began sawing through the grass stalk. In a few minutes the stalk fell, and the entire force of ants pounced upon the caterpillar, killing it at once. The Queen and Her EnglUh, The shy and retiring disposition of Hawthorne has often been commented on. Yet on occasion he could be quite as clever with his tongue as with his pen. It happened in England. Mr. Haw thorne was a guest at a formal din ner given to one of the foreign ambas sadors. The conversation had turned upon an autograph letter of the queen, which happened to be very clumsily expressed. "What do you think of the queen's letter, Mr. Hawthorne?" he was asked. The man of letters was perplexed, but he replied that it showed very kind feeling. "No," persisted the wicked inter rogator, "but what do you think of the style?" Mr. Hawthorne was equal to him. "The queen has a perfect right to do as she pleases with her oivn English," he replied—forward. IN FAR-OFF LABRADOR. Car Hunter* In That Country Who Iluve JuMt Heard of the l)eulh of liurcu Victoria. Reports are reaching civilization of the operations of the past winter in the interior and upon the coast of Labrador. The season was, generally speaking, a mild one, and the fatali ties among the Indians fewer than usual, a good supply of furs was se cured, but none of such peculiar value as some of those taken during the preceding winter, says the New York Sun. The highest price paid for a single skin of last winter's catch was S3OO, which was for a black silver fox, the king of all the fur-bearing animals of Labrador. Exactly double that amount was paid for a skin of the same va riety, a very noble specimen, about a ABDUL HAMID 11., SULTAN OF TURKEY. This picture, taken from the New York Journal, Is a reproduction of what is said to be the only likeness of the sultan made In recent years, the pictures of hir* formerly published having shown him only as a young man. The sultan is indeed; an old man now. He suffers acutely and will not take anaesthetics to ease his pain. Suspicious, cruel, vindictive, lustful of power, Abdul Hamid 11. awaits an end that—whether by revolution or assassination or by the action oi heart-disease— must come, it seems, in a short time. He is well aware of this condition, anil awaits his end with trembling fear. year ago. Prices in general are scarcely so good at present as they were this time last year. Marten skins, which have brought as much as $25 a skin, sold this spring for from sls to $lB. Traders are es pecially proud of the otters and minks which they obtain from Lab rador, which have fur of a peculiar fineness and luster. The hunters from the interior of Labrador had not heard of the death of Queen \ictoria xintil they emerged from the woods a few days ago. No mail matter can reach them during the winter. Even the residents along the coast had only six mails from autumn till spring, and these had to be conveyed over the snow by dogs, on sleighs, for want of proper roads and other means of conveyance. Veritable Lion* Inn Snlon, At the Comtesse de Greffelliu's re ception at Paris, when the music and singing had ended, two young lions entered the saloon dragging a car MOTOR BOATS ON THE DEAD SEA. The Dead sea, which for thousands of years has been a forsaken solitude In the midst of a desert, on whose waves no rudder has been seen for centuries, is soon to have a line of motor boats. Owing- to the continued increase in traffic and the influx of tourists a shorter route between Jerusalem and Kerak, the ancient capital of the Moabltes, is desired, and German capitalists and merchants, who con trol the trade of that section, have determined to place a number of little steamers on the Dead sea. The boats will be about 100 feet in length, and carry 35 passen gers and all kinds of freight. decked with lilies and roses. It is a remarkable fact that they frightened nobody, but called forth the guests' unanimous applause. They were brought recently to France by Prince d'Arenburg, who was participating in the Paris-Berlin race and did not witness their triumph. The Vnlue of Shocked Nerves. According to a legal decision in the Vienna courts "shuck to the nerves" constitutes a serious accident, writes a Vienna correspondent. A passenger on a local line claimed damages, which were awarded him, for a shock to his nerves, caused by the conductor shouting out to the passengers to jump off the car as he feared a col lision. Need llitsh I»ltl«liiin. Some people are always willing to do as they are bid, if the bid is high enough.—Puck. THE NEW ENGLAND WOMAUT. Not « I'rrpunanalnii Figure in ODU line or .Motion, According to Tbla Writer. In body she belongs to a people which lias spent its physical force, and lacks vitality, says Kate Steph ens, in Atlantic. She is slight. There is lack of adipose tissue—reserve force—throughout her frame. Her lungs are apt to be weak, waist normal and hips undersized. She is awkward in movement. Iler climate has not suffered her relaxa tion and the ease and curve of mo tion that more enervating air im parts. This is seen even in public. In walking she holds lier elbows set in an angle, and sometimes she steps out in the tilt of the Cantabrigian man. In this is perhaps an uncon scious imitation, a sympathetic copy- ing, of an admirable norm, but it is graceless in petticoats. As she steps, she knocks her skirt with lier knees, and gives you the impression that her leg 1 is crooked, that she does not lock lier knee joint. More often she toes in than out. She has a marvelously delicate, brilliant, fine-grained skin. It is in nocent of powder and purely natural. No beer in past generations has en tered its making, and no port; also, little flesh. REFURNISHING WINDSOR. The 01<t Pnrnlture in thr CaNtle W ill lie llnriied to Prevent IIN Circulation. His majesty intends to clear out a good deal of the old furniture and fittings at Windsor castle and replace them with his own. Having this in. view, old residents have been on the lookout for signs of a bonfire some where in the precincts of the castle. for in past times, when any chairs and tables and other articles therein, were condemned, it was the practice to have them burned, cays Modern. Society. The object of this was to prevent pieces of furniture stamped with the queen's monograms from being let loose, as it were, and so allowed to drift into the hands of brokers, and thence into the possession of persons having no right to them, but willing to pay almost any price to be able to display such royal articles in their own houses. It was a wasteful ex pedient, but one can understand the ueed of such a precaution. There have been so many instances of roy al gifts and discarded articles beinj* found in shops and stores iliat some means of prevention are quite neces sary. Hut up to the present time there have been no indications of & holocaust.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers