6 TO LOVE. Hk. few quick years, methoughl, would cause youth's fancies To fall away like blossoms early blown; And Time, I sighed, would take my rich romances Ariel grant me bare contentment for my own. iKnd yet, while Spring and Summer bring their posies. My sages gather dust upon their shelves; For stil! I take the violets and roses As hints of something sweeter than them selves. And still a bird can set my pulses beat ing— Kay, ev'ry year I love the mavis more! X always think he sings of some glad meet ing. Of listless days and longing safely o'er. T rtlll receive the secrets of the ocean. The strange, long wonder stories of the wind; And see the sun's desire, the moon's devo tion— And in thi m all some dearer thought I find. O Love! O Love! the years have made you splendid; *Tls glory where I hoped for scarce a gleam. The fancies and romances are not ended— Time has but blessed and beautilled each dream. •-J. J. Bell. In Chambers' Journal. BORN TO SERVE By Charles M. Sheldon, Aatbor of"IN HIS STEPS," "JOHN KING'S QUESTION CLASS," "EDWARD BLAKE, • 1 Etc. (Oepjrigbt, 1900, bj CUai Jea kL Hhtldou.) CHAPTER Vlir. MINISTRY IS DIVINE. Mr. Morton broke a very embar ■rassing silence by saying in a quiet ▼oiee, although his manner showed •till the great excitement that he evi dently felt: "Mrs. Clark, I have no doubt you are greatly surprised to •ee me here." "It is a great pleasure, I am sure," &frs. Clark murmured. Barbara had turned around so that the young minister could not see her face as •he sat partly concealed behind the lamp on the table. It was very still «gaiti before Mr. Morton spoke. "You know, of course, that I have no preaching service to-night. I have Just come from my young people's meeting. I—" He paused, and Mrs. Clark looked attentively at him, and then at Bar bara, sitting with head bowed and cheeks flushed, and a gleam of sud den perception of the truth began to shine out of the mother's face as she turned again toward the min ister. Barbara had never confided di rectly in her mother, but Mrs. Clark had been blessed with a remarkably beautiful and true love experience fn her own girlhood, and with all her faults and misunderstanding of Bar bara during the trial of her experi ment with Mrs. Ward she had in va rious ways come to know that Bar bara had grown to have much inter est in the brilliant young preacher. Barbara had probably made a se rious mistake in not giving her moth er a frank confession. But Mrs. Clark had never really supposed until now that the minister might have a feeling for Barbara. She began to feel certain of it as she rapidly noted Mr. Morton's evident agitation and the look that he gave Barbara as he stopped suddenly. "We are glad to see you, I am sure," Mrs. Clark said, coming to his rescue. Through the memory of her own sad loss and all her recent trouble rose the sweet picture of her husband's wooing. If Barbara's hap piness for life now consisted in her possible union with this good, strong man, Mrs. Clark was not the mother to put needless obstacles in the way. In this matter her mother had a cer tain largeness of character which ftarbara did not at that time com prehend. Mr. Morton had grown calmer. He began to talk of matters belonging to his church and his plans for the social settlement. Oradually Bar bara recovered herself from the first moment's pati'c. She came out from behind the defense of the lamp, and began to ask questions and take part In the conversation. "But still," she was saying after half an hour's talk had been going on,"I do not quite see how you are going to interest Crawford people in the plan you suggest until you hwe made a piactical beginning, even if it id on a small scale. The j>eople are very conservative." "That's true." The minister sighed « little. "But I do not see how you «,re going to interest the public in your servant girls' training school un til you have demonstrated its prac tical usefulness. I don't doubt its wisdom, of course," he added, quick ly. "But it must require a good deal of courage on your part to make a be ginning in view of what you know must be the criticism and prejudice that are inevitable." "As far as courage goes," said Bar bara, frankly, "it seems to me you bave much more than I. With the money Mrs. Ward and Mrs. Vane have promised me, 1 shall be quite inde pendent to work out my plan as I please. Whereas you are obliged to overcome the prejudice of a whole church full of people, many of whom do not believe in social settlement work connected with the church." "L wish there was some way," Mr. Morten exclaimed, eagerly, absorbed In thought of his plans, "in which we eould combine your plans and mine. 'The training school would lit in so beautifully with my ideas." He spoke in his enthusiasm, for the moment, thinking only of the plans as existing apart from the persons. But, as Barbara lifted her face to his and then dropped her eyes, while a .great wave of color swept her cheeks, he realized how personal his excla aoation had been. AIKS just at that juncture, Mrs. Clark, wlthou* h word of apology or explana tion, rose and walked out of the room. Morton blessed her as she shut the door. There are some things in the love chapter of youth that cannot be told except to the heart of youth it self. He went quickly over to where Bar bara was seated on the other side of the table, and before she had time to be frightened he said, looking at her with love's look: "Barbara, I love you, and want you to be my wife and share all with me. Will you?" Barbara sat all in a tumult, her heart beating fast, as in a dream won dering at it all. And it sounded very sweet to her. For she loved him truly. But she said, as she stood by the table looking at him: "But—1 —cannot. It would be—" "Tell me, Barbara," he said, a sud den smile lighting up his pale face, and his use of her name was again music to her, "tell me only one thing first. Do you love me?" "Yes!" she cried, and it seemed to her as if one person iti her had spoken to another, compelling the answer; and the next moment, she could not realize how, but it was like a world's life to her, his arms were about her, and in that moment she knew that for better, for worse, she had put her life into the lot of sharing with his. Lovers do not count time like other people. After awhile he was saying: "But tell me, Barbara, how I am to make my j>eace with Mrs. Ward. For, when she learns that I am going to get her hired girl, she will never forgive me." Then Barbara's face grew grave. "Do you realize, Mr. Morton, what, you have done? Can a young man with your position and prospects af ford—to—to—marry a 'hired girl?' Oh, if you had not compelled me to say 'Yes' so soon! I might have saved you from making the mistake of your life—" "Barbara," he answered, with sud den sternness that was assumed, without answering her question, "if you ever call me 'Mr. Morton' again, I shall—" he left his threat unfinished; but he had possession of her hand as he spoke, and Barbara looked up at him and said softly: "What shall I call you?" "Say—" "Yes. What?" Barbara asked, inno cently, as he paused. "Well, then," he went on, joyously, "say: 'Ralph, I love you more than anyone else in the world. And I will walk with you through life because 1 love you—because we love each oth er.' " "You have taken advantage of me!" she exclaimed, brightly, and then, with glowing face looking into his, she repeated the words, whispering them. And, when she had finished, they were both reverently silent, while her eyes were wet with tears of solemn joy. They did not either of them realize all they had pledged to each other; but the God-given, hu man-divine spell of love was upon them, and the blessedness of it swal lowed up all fears of the future. Once Barbara had given herself to him, it "MAY I COME IN?" HE A^KED, meant an end of doubt or fear. She might discuss with him the probable results to his social or professional standing, but she would never torture his mind or distress her own by rain regrets or foolish anticipations. The great truth of their love for each other filled them both. They were so absorbed in their talk that they did not hear Mrs. Clark when she came into the room. Then Mr. Morton was suddenly aware of her presence, and he instantly rose and went over to her. "Mrs. Clark," he said, "I took ad vantage of your absence to take your daughter from you. But I will try to make up for it in part by giving you a loving and dutiful son, if you will accept me as such." Without waiting for her reply, which he easily read in her smiling face, he turned to Barbara, who had come to his side. "What did you say, Barbara?" Mrs. Clark asked as she faced them both, thinking to herself that she had never seen so much real joy in two faces anywhere in the world. "Oh, mother!" Barbara cried, "I have given him my answer." She laid her head oil her mother's breast as she used _o do when she was a little girl, and Mrs. Clark felt with the pain ful joy of a good mother's heart that the world's old story had come into her daughter's life, and that hence forth this man had become to Bar bara all in all without displacing the mother from her rightful share of af fection. They had many things to say now, and neither Barbara nor Mrs. Clark offered serious objections to the earn- CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1901. est request of the young man that the period of engagement might be a brief one. "We know our minds quite well, I am sure," he said, while Barbara, blushing, nodded yes. "It will be best in every way for us to begin our home very soon. Barbara, you will have to give Airs. Ward notice that you must leave. Poor Mrs. Ward! She is the only person I am sori-y for right now!" They were all silent for a moment, Then Mr. Morton said: "The servants' training-school will have to be a part of the social settlement now. You've lost your independence." "I've gained something better," said Barbara, gently. Her love knew no re strictions, now that it was returned, and her heart leaped up to his in all his ambitious for helping to make a better world. When he rose togo, Barbara went to the door with him. lie had opened it and was about to step out when he turned and said, with a laugh: "I have forgotten my hat." The missing hat was not found at once, and Mrs. Clark unblushingly said: "Perhaps it is in the sitting room," and walked deliberately out there. The hat was lying on a chair behind the table. The minister took it up and walked to the door again. Then he turned and said, while Barbara looked up at him: "1 forgot something else." Then he stooped and kissed her, and went out into the night, and it was like the glory of Heaven's brightness all about him, while Barbara turned and again met her mother with an em brace where both mingled their tears over the divine romance of this earth ly life. God bless the repetition of the pure love chapter in human hearts. When it is deeply Christian, as in the case of Barbara and Ralph, it is ap proved of Christ and has the sanction of all Heaven. When Barbara began her work at the Wards' next day, she had a natural dread of breaking the news to Mrs. Ward. But that lady unconsciously made a good opportunity. She came into the kitchen early in the forenoon and was struck by Barbara's beauty. She had noted it many times before, but this morning the girl's great love experience had given her face an addi tional charm. It is no wonder Ralph Morton fell in love with her. He said it all began from that Sunday when he first met her at the Marble Square church. -"-Why, Barbara," Mrs. Ward ex claimed, "you look perfectly charming this morning. How do you manage to keep looking so lovely? It is a wonder to me that the kitchen is not full of beaus all the time!" Barbara laughed lightly. "I don't want a kitchen full of beaus. One is enough." Mrs. Ward looked at her attentively. Then she said, somewhat gravely: "Did you say one is enough? What does that mean?" "It means—O Mrs. Ward, I am so happy!" She turned to her, and the older woman trembled a little and then said: "It is Mr. Morton?" "Yes," cried Barbara, and Mrs. Ward put her arms about her and kissed her. Then she stepped back and looked at her somewhat sorrowfully. "I'm glad for you, of course, but what are we going to do? It's always the way. The best girls I have always go and get married. But I never thought until lately that you would do such a thing. Why, it's like a story, Barbara. If it was in a book, people would think it was quite improbable. 'The idea!' they would say, 'of the brilliant preacher of Marble Square church, Crawford, the gifted young writer and lecturer, marrying a hired girl in his own parish!' Have you thought, Barbara, of the sensation this event will make in Marble Square church?" "Of course I have not had much time yet to think of it, Mrs. Ward. If Mr. Morton, Italph," she added, shyly, blushing at her own use of the name before another person, "if he feels sat isfied, the church ought not to give any trouble. Whyshouldit? Do you think it will?" "You're a hired girl in the eyes of most people in the church. They do not know you as I do. 1 am afraid it will make trouble for Mr. Morton." For a moment Barbara's radiant face showed signs of anxiety. Then, to Mrs. Ward's astonishment, she said, with a smile: "I am not going to bor row trouble over it. I love him too much to be afraid of anything." "If only people knew you as Mr. Ward and I do—" Mrs. Ward fal tered, tears in her eyes, caused by af fection for Barbara and sorrow at the thought of losing her out of the home. "Yau know what a welcome Mr. Ward and myself and Mrs. Vane and a few others will give you. But I don't know what Mrs. llice and Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Brown will say." "Do you know—"Barbara spoke,not flippantly but with a sense of humor which was a real part of her healthy nature. "Do you know, Mrs. Ward, I am afraid I am not quite so much in fear of what Mrs. Bice and Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Brown will say as I ought to be? I am not going to marry them, but—but —some one else." Mrs. Ward looked at her doubtfully. Then she smiled at her and said: "You must be very much in love, Barbara. The old adage: 'Love laughs at lock smiths,' will have to be changed to 'Love laughs at Marble Square church.' " "1 don't laugh at it, Mrs. Ward. But honestly, I do feel to blame, and I am not going to anticipate trouble. That would not be right towards him, for I know he counted all the cost be fore he asked me to share all with hjm." Blessedbelove like Barbara's! Truly can it be said of such love, it "beareth all things, believethall things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth." When Mr. Waid came home at night, he soon learned the news. Barbara had no silly or t»!se sentiment, and she had agreed with Mr. Morton that the fact of the engagement and near marriage need not be kept sedret from anyone, even for a short time. So Mrs. Ward told her husband. He was not sur prised. He had anticipated it. "Yes, you're going to leave us, just like all the rest," he said, in his banter ing fashion, when Barbara came in with some dishes to set the table. Mr. Ward was in the reading-room, and Barbara stepped to the door and greet ed him. "One of the rules of your new training-school ought to be: 'Xo girl who graduates from this school togo out to service shall be allowed to get engaged or married for at least five years.' What is going to become of all the competent girls if all follow your bad example?" "I'm sure I dor.'t know," Barbara answered, demurely. "Won't you and Morton take us into board when you begin housekeeping? I'm so used to your cornbread muffins, and coffee for breakfast that l l know I shall never be able to put up with any other kind." "I don't know," Barbara replied, laughing. "It is possible that we may have a hired girl ourselves." "Do you think so?" Mr. Ward said, with pretended joy. "Then Mrs. Ward and I shall have our revenge on you for deserting us, for you will then have the agony of the servant girl problem on your own hands and know how it is from the other side of the house." "Perhaps that is one of the reasons I am going to have a home of my own, Mr. Ward. I shall be able to see the question from both standpoints." "I hope you'll be spared our trou bles," Air. Ward spoke in a really se rious tone this time. Then he added with great heartiness: "The Lord bless you, Barbara. You have been like a daughter to us." He choked as he remembered Carl in Barbara's arms just a little before he passed over. "We shall miss you dreadfully. But we shall bid you God-speed. I don't know what the rest of Marble Square church will do, but you know that Mrs. Ward and myself will be loyal to our minister's wife." "O, I thank you, Mr. Ward. It means everything to me," and Barbara re tired somewhat hastily to the kitchen, where some tears of joy and feeling dropped on the familiar old table where Carl had so often sat watching her at work. That evening Mr. Morton called. Barbara had finished her work, and was sitting with the family as her custom was, when Morton came ia. [To Be Continued.] ARABIA'S POORHOUSE. Such Ia Termed the I>nte I'nliu Tree /rum Which Much In Obtained. Mark Twain compared the palm tree to "a liberty pole with a hay cock on top of it,"and the date tree may be called both a poem and a commercial product. To the Arab mind it is the perfection of beauty and utility. Rev. S. M. Zwemer, in his book on Arabia, says that every part of this wonderful tree is useful to the Arabs. The pistils of the date blossom con tain a tine curly liber, which is beat en out and used in all eastern baths as a sponge for soaping the body. At the extremity of the trunk is a terminal bud containing a whitish substance resembling an almond in consistency and taste, but a hundred times as large. This is a great table delicacy. There are said to be over 100 va rieties of date palm, all distinguished by their fruit, and the Arabs say that "a good housewife may furnish her husband every day for a mouth with a dish of dates differently pre pared." Dates form the staple food of the Arabs in a large part of Arabia, and are served in some form at evrt-y meal. Syrup and vinegar are made from old dates; and by those who disregard the Koran, even a kind of brandy. The date-pit is ground up and fed to cows and sheep, so that nothing of the precious fruit may be lost. Whole pits are used as beads and counters for the Arab children in their games on the desert sand. The branches or palms are stripped of their leaves, and used like rattan for the making of beds, tables, chairs, cradles, bird cages, boats, and so forth. The leaves are made into baskets, fans and string, and the bast of the outer trunk forms excel lent fiber for rope of many sizes and qualities. The wood of the trunk, although light and porous, is much used in bridge building and architecture, and is quite durable. In short, when a date palm is cut down there is not a particle of it that is wasted. This tree is the "poorhouse" and asylum for all Arabia; without it millions would have neither food nor shelter. One half of the population of Mesopo tamia live in date mat dwellings. A BFKKIUK Letter. Perhaps the most wonderfuloitliesa epistles purported to come from an old woman who begged for money, and detailed her ill success in obtain ing an order for a coffin for her daugh ter, who, she declared, was"in a ridi culous condition on the rowf of her cottage." This statement seemed to open up such a vista of horrors that a mounted messenger was at once di."t patched to inquire into the case. It was then found that the young wom an was in rude health, and wanted the money for toilet purposes.—Cornhill Magazine. $1 ran no, Isn't It? There is a pinao, an organ, a m*tn dolin, a guitar and a fiddle in an Atch' son family which rents a sewing ma chine. —Atchison Globe. SHE ADMIRES JIMMY. Mysterious Girl Pursues Weil- Known Yankee Bicyclist. tlev Maid CAIIH Hep "Prlnceii/' aud It In Suriulne<t Sin* >1 a y He Daughter at AIOXIN, One of the Czur*M Uncle*. "Jimmy" Michael, the bicyclist crack-a-jaek, has had a mysterious ro mance since he began riding' at Paris, and is the greatest favorite among the women. "I don't object to their sending me notes and portraits," lie says. ''My manager spares me the trouble of reading their foolish messages, lint receiving flowers kills me. Everybody sends me bouquets, which are carried to my dressing-room, and 1 cannot refuse them without rudeness, yet they make ine feel like a chorus girl." "Jimmy"was compelled to make an exception in his disregard of femininity two weeks ago, says the New York World. While he was training on the I'arc lies Princes tracka beautiful girl suddenly dashed from the riders' quarters, to every body's surprise, for in the mornings only racers are admitted. The girl took a few leisurely turns, then "tacked onto" Michael's wheel, keeping up a tremendous gait at his pace easily for two miles. The boy was unconscious that he was followed until his trainer, grow ing impatient, cried: "Spurt twice around and drop the lady, 'Jimmy.' " "Jimmy" turned, saw the girl and increased his pace, smilingly confi dent that she wtvuld be unable to fol low. 15ut he was mistaken. Try as he might he could not leave the girl behind. Finally the trainer, fearing that Michael would be unfit for his after noon ride, ordered him to desist. The girl immediately dismounted and extended her hand to"Jimmy," saving, in English: "I admire your riding immensely." "By Jove! I admire yours," ex claimed "Jimmy." "Oh, I am good for short spurts," •he responded, "but I couldn't have JIMMY MICHAEL. (American Crack-a-Jack Who Is the Sensation of Paris.) followed much longer. Will you be friends?" "With pleasure," cried "Jimmy." "May I inquire who does me such honor?" "Never mind my name. I will meet you here every morning." Thereupon the strange girl handed her wheel to an attendant and en tered a luxurious closed carriage, which had a coachman and footman in full livery, and dcove off. The manager of the Velodrome was questioned, but could give no in formation as to the identity of the young woman, as a servant had ar ranged for the lady's riding daily, paying handsomely for the privi lege. Since that day the girl has been at tending faithfully, rain or shine, and is fast growing chummy with "Jin» my," though when he questions her or tries in any way to discover who she is she grows sullen and leaves abruptly. Naturally this has caused consider able gossip among the habitues of the. track, and some have offered to follow the carriage and find where the girl lives, but "Jimmy" has threatened to break the head of an 3 -- body who tries to spy,on her. She seems to be about 24 years old, is of medium stature, refined, ath letic and of surpassing beauty. Ac cording to experts she rides the wheel as no other woman ever did. From the fact that her maid inad vertently twice called her "princess" and occasionally addresses her in Russian, the Parisians incline to think that she may be the natural daughter of Grand Duke Alexis, one of the czar's uncles, the same young princess about whom so much was printed three years ago, who lives in Paris in great splendor and proud isolation. Women in Oil IlnaliieM*. In the paradise of the petroleum in dustry, Texas, the young ladies of Beaumont are organizing an oil com pany, in which every officer and direct or must be an unmarried woman. The desire of the promoters to confine their undertaking exclusively to wom en has one limit; they regret that they will have to let the drilling contract to a man, as> there is not a single drill ing outfit in the field owned by a woman. Ofllcial linn on Chicken*. Tn Los Angeles, Cal., there is an ordi nance imposing a fine of five dollart for allowing chickens to run on the streets and other people's property The success of the ordinance is such that the city of Oakland will adopt one similar to it. WHITNEY LEADS WINNERS. tils Shore of Turf Slitkra nml I'arica ill till? St'USOII Juhl CluM'd Placed at *108,440. William C. Whitney heads the list of winners on the American turf this year with $105,440 as his share of stakes and purses. To the intensely practical mind this seems like a small return for the $500,000 or more that Mr. Whitney has spent on his horses, but doubtless the royal sport he has enjoyed more than make up the differ ence. John K. Madden, second in the list, has proved himself a magician. Al though Yankee and Blue Girl and sev eral other horses ranked among the WILLIAM C. WHITNEY. (Famous Democratic Politician and Kins of the Turf.) best of the year, he has still kept enough first-class performers running under his colors to earn him $103,115. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Farrell hold third place with winnings of $49,110. The principal winners of the season are: Names. Amount. Whitney, W. C J108.440 Madden, J. E 103,115 Farrell, Frank 49.110 Morris, Green B 48.1.15 Mackay, Clarence 40.737 The Pepper Stable 40,600 Keene, James R 36,001 Haggin, James 3.1.405 Sealey, W. H 28.165 Wilson, It. T., Jr 27.920 Belmont. August 25,520 Osceola Stable 24,750 Featherstone, A 23,05S Morris, A. 11. & D. H 23,765 Daly, W. C 22.351 Schorr, J. W 20,506 Hitchcock, T., Jr 19.930 Goughacre Stable 19,805 Keene, J. R. & F. P 18,125 Llttletield, C. Jr 17.6.55 Rollins, W.C 17,650 McLewee & Co 17.565 Flelschman, J 17.130 Bell, L. V 16.UK) Chamblet, Mr 15.7H5 McCafferty, J. J 15,645 Walbaum, (J 10.145 Lakeland. W 15,130 Follansbee, J. G 14,640 Hitchcock, F. R 12.700 Flelschman Sons 12,600 Aste, A. L 12,350 McDowell, T. C 12,135 Widener. Jus. E 11,230 Healy. T. J 11,145 Schreibi r. Barney lU.SSS McLaughlin, James 10.300 Smith. Harry W 9.675 Randolph, P. S. P 9.660 Smith, George E 9.5.55 Dwyer, C. F 8.070 Murphy, M S.6»M) Motiahan, T. J 7.575 Thompson Hros 7.3J55 Grlltin, H. T 7,260 Brown, S. S 7.200 Albermarle Stable 7.161 Bannington, N G.blO McCarren. P. H 6.755 Rice, R. R 6.755 Carruthers & Shields 6.610 Sotauket Stable 6.595 Tabor, John 6.450 Myers, L. M 6,135 Worth. Jacob 6.120 Patterson, C. T 6!)<-5 Smythe, J. \V 5,700 Johnson, S. C 5.530 M.Garry. J. A 6,445 Oliver, W. L 5.415 Dwyer & Maguir» 5.305 Sullivan, Harris, Mulligan 6.230 Joyner, A. J 5,200 Laughlln, R. J 4,945 McDonald, J. E +.595 Smith, \V. J 4 670 Appleby, L. 0 4.660 Finlan. Miles 4.455 Richards, O. L 4. (75 Bennett, J. A 4 430 Clancy, Michael 4 390 Walden, R. W. & Sons 4.350 Hill, Charles F 4,130 GEN. GRANT'S WIDOW, Former Jllstr™ of the White Hcna* Is .Just Recovering; from a ltntlicr Serious Illness. Mrs. Julia Dent Grant, who is just recovering from a rather serious ill ness following upon her last visit to Mi MRS. JULIA DENT GRANT. (Her Recovery from Serious Illness Ha» Just Been Announced.) Canada, is now in her seventy-fifth year and has enjoyed excellent health and spirits almost all the years of her life. The widow of the great soldier and president was born at St. Louis, the daughter of Frederick and Ellen Dent. It was sooo after her gradua tion from a boarding school that the charming Miss Dent met and captured the heart of the then Lieut. Grant, who was stationed at St. Louis. The mar riage took place on August 22, 1848. When Gen. Grant left the white house his wife accompanied him on his trip around the world and shared in all the honors bestowed on the hero of th« civil war. After the general's death congress passed a bill giving his widow » pension of $5,006 a year, upon which ■he has chiefly subsisted since that time.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers