6 WHEN CINDA SWEEPS. .When Clnda sews, within the lamp's c'.«ar beam. Just mellowed by a shade of porce'.atn white. Around her chestnut head soft shadows dream, Spun by the elfin fingers of the night. The moths, with silvery wings, come wa vering In The open door, through which some late red rose Pours fragrance rich; and all Is calm and fair When Clnda sews. .When Clnda bakes, what odors a.s from Isles Of clove ana citron float upon the air. And In the pantry—oh, what witching piles Of crusty rolls and frosted tarts are there! A dream of far-off eastern light —and warmth In some strange wise she mingles In her cakes; Some subtle atmosphere the kitchen fills When Clnda bakes. When Cinda sweeps Ah me! The dismal tale Is almost more than my poor pen can tell. The cloudy waves and billows that do sail About my ears, my spirits crush ard quell. Poor Cupid drops his arrows right and left Distractedly; the Muse turns blue and weeps, And, sniffing, flies away to dry her eyes, When Cinda sweeps. —Hattle Whitney, in Good Housekeeping;. 112 N The Trouble £ on the Torolito. BY FRANCIS LYNDE. CHAPTER IV. RECONNOITERINGS. I wore out the first day of Mac phersou's absence sitting 1 in the shade of the ranch house, and mov ing- only as the sun compelled. There Was healing in the thin, crisp air, and I went to bed at nightfall to sleep bs I had not slept for months. On the second day I ate like a famished Wolf, and the siren hope began to croon the song so familiar to the ears of the consumptive. Once more I made the slow circuit of the ranch house, hitching my chair in opposi tion to the sun; and the foothills across the valley beckoned me. In the heel of the afternoon, Andy came out to peel the potatoes for supper, and I inquired the distance to the beck oning hills. "Mile and n half, 'r maybe two." "Is there a horse in the corral that a sick man might ride?" Andy took time to consider. "I dunno," said he. "There's old Blue nose—he's wind-busted; want to try him?" "Yes; if you can spare the time to saddle him for me." In five minutes the bronco was at the door and the kindly desperado heaved me bodily into the saddle. "Keekon you can stick on?" said he. "1 guess'so. Does he buck?" "They all do, if you give 'em time to study about it. Give him his head and run him a mile 'r so, if you can stan' it. That'll take the funny-busi ness out o' him." I did it, and being- but a sorry horseman, must have presented a spectacle for gods and men in the mad gallop across the valley. So far from showing signs of exhaustion at the mile-end, the bronco locked his jaw on the bit, swerved aside from the slope of the hill which T had counted upon as a speed-reducer, and was half way to the head of the val ley before I could get weight enough on the bridle-reins to pull him down. When he realized that I desired to stop, he promptly shot me over his head into a patch of sage-grass and went his way without me. Where upon followed a series of maneuvers looking to repossession, and at the end of it the sun had gone down on a luckless eaballero four miles from camp, too weary to walk, and unable to recapture his mount. I flung myself down under the lee Of a huge bowlder and wondered if the bronco would be considerate enough to send some one after me by p-oing back to the ranch riderless. It seemed doubtful. Ilis final disap pearance had been over the h'.tls to the northward. Into the midst of the chanee-wcigliing came the beat of hoofs on the crest above me, and presently I saw the figure of a horse man silhouetted against the sky on the hilltop. It was Ivilgore; and while I looked he came down the hill at a jog-trot. Fifty feet from my bowlder the pony stumbled, and horse and man came down together. Kil gore rose cursing, and kicked the bronco to its feet. "Blame your or'nary hide! Cayn't. you lif' them ther' feet o' your'n when you see a dog-hole? Now then, what's the matter with you?" The horse jerked its head free and limped a few paces up the hill, stop ping presently with its muzzle to the ground, pointing as a trained bird dog might. The range-rider stopped to pull up a freshly driven stake and read the marking thereon. " 'X—lo—2'; that's some o* their blame' ingineerin' lingo, I reckon. I'd like to git my lariat 'round the neck o' the feller th't's a-stakin' off this yere rise. I'd show him what hit feel like to git tli'owed." He flung the stake afar, and leav ing the bronco to its own devices, sought and found the line of the ditch, following it and destroying the engineer's landmarks for a good half-mile. When he returned he found me holding the pony, and went agape accordingly. "Well, J'll be dad-burned! Where did yon fall from, '» Trhat I'd like to know?" "From the back a certain ill conditioned beast ramed 'liluenose.' He, pitched me off ari) ran away. I'm too weak to walk; do you suppose jfou could catoh hiu\ trjf vie?" "Catch nothin'! I'll show you a trick worth two o* that, .lest lemme boost you across this yere grass hopper o' mine and we'll ride and tie —you do the ridin' and I'll do the tyin.' Blame' if you hain't got your sand with you to git up out of a sick-bed and make a stagger at ridin' a cow-pony. Easy, now, ol' Sway back; we're a-ruuniu' an amb'lance from this on." Ordinarily, Kilgore was personified, but on the four-mile jaunt to the valley-throat he talked against time, and a very dull listener could have seen the drift of it, which was to bury the stake-pulling epi sode as deeply as possible. But I would not let him go without his warning. "I saw you pull a lot of the land company's stakes, Bart," I said, when the ranch lights were in sight. "I'm afraid you'll hear from it." "What'll they do to me, d'ye reck on?" "Nothing, I presume, because they won't know who did it. But it'll make trouble for the captain." Kilgore plodded on in silence for a full minute before he replied: "Keek on so? I'll be dad-burned if they do. I'll go pull up some more in the mornin' and eyar* 'etn up yonder to His .lags' camp. Blame' if I don't." When we reached the ranch house Maepherson had come home and was | about to start out in search of me. ! I took my scolding like a guilty | schoolboy. "You ought to be thumped," he said, when I had been helped down. "Haven't you a grain of sense left?" "Plenty of it; it was the horse that was lacking. I was all right as long as he let me stay on." "Oh, you were"—with fine sarcasm —"Well, I suppose you're good for a week in blankets to pay for it. Knocked your good appetite silly, didn't it?" "Come into supper and I'll show you. I'm good for anything, from pate de foie gras to boiled dog." It was three full days, and I had ennuyed myself into a state of coma, before Maepherson would let me try it again, and when he finally con sented we went together, ambling the length of his small kingdom and pausing only when the horses of the settlement came in sight from the brow of a low hill dominating the clustered farmsteads and the engi neer's camp at Valley Head. I want ed togo on, but Maepherson shook his head. "No; you've had enough, and more than enough, for one day. You for get that the nearest undertaker is at the fort." "I forget nothing. Give me that glass." When T had focused the field glass he said: "What do you see?" "I see the promise of a remarkably beautiful sunset." "Is that all?" "No; I see a log cabin which T take to be a sclioolhouse. The door is open, and there is some one standing on the step—a young woman, I should say—" I dropped the glass and turned upon him quickly enough to surprise the beatific eagerness in his face. "It's she," he said, rather sheepish ly; and then:'"Do you really think you could manage another mile or two and make out to get home alive?" I laughed. His wistfulness was beautiful to behold. "I can do better than that; I can find my way back alone." "And get thrown again—not much you don't. Besides, I want'you to meet her." I "Do you? It's much better as it stands. You can tell me all sorts of affectionate little fictions about her and I shan't be able to contradict them." "I wish you'd stop devilling me long enough to say yes or no," he growled. For answer I led the way west ward at a double, and ten minutes later we were climbing the school house knoll. The gallop had been wrought out in silence, but while the horses were breasting the hill, Mae pherson said: "Of course, you tinder stand that what I told you about the —about the fracas with Wykamp must be a.s if it had never happened?" j "My dear boy! Was I born yester day? But you've seen hgr since, haven't you?" "No; I thought she would— I thought perhaps it would be better to let it age a little, you know." Here was embarrassment made to order, but I found comfort in the re flection that the chapter of acci dents, helped out by a little tact ful design on my part, would doubtless give me an oppor tunity to efface myself after the in troduction. Knowing Maepherson and his sterl ing worth, and remembering the pro verbial blindness of lovers in gener al, I was prepared to criticise the school-mistress as the facts might warrant. But when she came to the door to greet lis, I went over to the enemy, horse, foot and dragoons. I had pictured her as a young woman of the altitudes, schooled in the in nocent little man-entangling arts of the girl-graduate; a woman of the broader world only by courtesy of a high-school diploma; a young person who would be careful to make the distinction in pronouncing "rise" the verb, and "rise" the noun, perhaps, with a cheerful disregard for the weightier solecisms. So ran the pre conception, and when she came out to us the revulsion was sharp enough to be painful. More beautiful women then Winifred Sanborn there have doubtless, Vj*. never nnother ro-jre instantaneously lovable. She . w»s of the chastened Puritan type, j with a personality 0' grace rather than of strength; a young woman 1 with a face and figure which might CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1901. have been a replit|a in- flesh' and blood of the calm-eyed maiden in the pictured idyl of l'riscilla and John Alden. Gentleness, nnd high breed ing, and an idealized standard of purity were hers by right of birth, one would say, since the witness of them was written lnrge in every line of the sweet face and in the un ashamed gaze of the steadfast eyes. I remembered the unworthy sus picion which Maepherson had refused to let me set in words, and did in stant and ample penance for its har boring. Whatever might prove to be the windings of the labyrinth in which she seemed to be involved with Wykamp, this honest-eyed young woman must be held blameless in thought, word and deed. She made me welcome as Macpher son's friend with a touch of geatle courtesy which carried me swiftly back to a time and place where the strenuous travail-spirit of the egois tic west was not. "We are not quite strangers, are we, Mr. Halcott?" she said, giving me her hand in unaffected sincerity. "Mr. Maepherson has told me much about you. I hope the Torolito is helping you." "Thank you; it is, in a way—tem porarily, at least. But one would need to be a very exacting invalid not to be helped by the Torolito." "I'm glad you like it," she re joined, in an upflash of gentle en thusiasm. "When I was a new-comer I used to lie awake nights listening to the thunder of the river in the up per canyon, and longing to be up and out with the solemn mountains and the stream and the soft darkness. It was the Happy valley of Kasselas over again; but they're going to spoil it for us now." "The land company, you mean?" said I; and from this the talk went easily to the threatened metamor phosis. At the end of it, I said: "If I were rich enough I should be tempted to try to buy them off. It's a thousand pities to graft a truck farm upon such a shapely stock of nature's growing." "Isn't it?" she said. Maepherson was growing restive. "Don't you want togo inside and lie down on one of the benches, Hal cott? It'll rest you for the ride back. You're looking a bit fagged." I smiled at his clumsy attempt to dispose of me, and glanced at Miss Sanborn. She was evidently bracing herself for something trying but in evitable. "If I get down I shall never get tip again," said I. "Now that we're this near, I'm going to ride onto flie end of the valley. Put me on the horse, Angus, and wait for me; I'll pick you up as I come back." Ife did it, with palpable gratitude; and so I rode on and left them. Fifteen minutes later I repassed the sclioolhouse; and, not to mar their'leave-takings, waved my hand to them and rode on down the val ley. Maepherson overtook me in the second lialf-mile, and the gloom in his face was absolutely portentous. I charged it to my inconsiderate haste, and made instant amends. "Go along back to her, if you want to; I told you I could find the way home alone." For five full minutes he did not re ply. Then the words came tumult wise. "That's the heart-breaking pity of it, Jack; I can never go back to her. Do you understand?—never. For heaven's sake, bear with me if you can, old man; I shall go mad if I don't talk about it. She says it's all over between us; that we mustn't meet again; that if I'm obstinate, as I promised to be, she'll go as she came. And she wouldn't tell me why. God in Heaven! what have I done?" "It's nothing you've done or left undone. Can't you see? —it's Wy kamp." Maepherson consigned the engineer to a place from which the theolo gians assure us there is no escape. "That's all right; his Creator may send him there, but you're under bonds not to." The double quartette of pounding hoofs beat out another mile <>f silence, and then he broke out again. "Damn it all, man, why don't you say something?" "I've been trying to think of some thing worth saying. Let's begin at the beginning. Here is a very riddle of a mystery with only two people who can solve it. One of the two won't talk; erg-o, the other must be made to. You were in Fort Cowan the other day. May I inquire what you did?" "I located a placer prospect on the line of the Glenlivat ditch, and made ready to ask for an injunction if Wykamp runs his survey across it." "Good! But you also asked ques tions. Who knows anything about Wykamp?" "Nobody at the fort; he's from the east." "Who employs him?" "The board of directors, I suppose. He's the chief engineer of the com pany." "Who are the directors?" He named the members of the board. "Lovatt's one of them, you say?" "Yes." "That's lucky for us. Can you spare one of the boys to take a let ter to town for me?" "Sure. What are you going to do?" "I know Lovatt pretty well; he's under obligations to me, in fact. I shall ask him for a letter of intro duction to his chief engineer." "What good will that do?" "Much, let us hope. Armed with my letter, I shall proceed to quarter my ailing: self upon Wykamp for a <*av, a week, or a month." "Well?" "When I get through with him, we shall know more than we do now." . "What if lie won't talk?"- "He'll be made to. A few ininuteti ago you gave him a Dantean blessing, and I told you that you are under bonds to keep the peace. Ftp not." Maepherson lighted his pipe m yild gallop and smoked upon it. At t>e end of the reflective interval he said: "I can't let 3'ou do it." "Why?" I demanded. "Because you're a sick man, and my friend. I should never forgive myself." "Nonsense! Tf anything will serve to keep me alive beyond the doctor's reprieve of six weeks or so, it's a bit of detective work which will keep me from counting the days. So you see the motive is selfish, after all." "I see that you're the best friend a poor devil ever had." "Don't flatter yourself. Two hours ago I should have let you wrestle out of it as best you could." "But now?" "But now I have seen her; I'm her champion and none of yours, my dear boy. You're only an incident." And then the undreamed-of truth laughed out in a jest. "You can thank j'our luck stars that I've one foot safely in the grave. Otherwise you might want to kill two men in stead of one." I think the jest was thrown away upon him. When 1 looked he was staring steadily ahead, and I caught but a phrase of his rejoinder. "God be merciful to her and show her the light of His countenance!" He was repeating it softly, as one who rides alone. [To Be Continued.l TELLTALE COINAGE. lloiv the Man Identified the King Although Never Having Seen Him Ilefore. Apart from photographs and en gravings, the faces of most rulers are fanwliarized to us by their images on the current coins of their countries, says the Bost&n Tran script. Female vanity is supposed to have been the cause of preserving Queen Victoria's girlish image on the coins and postage stamps of England until the last years of her reign, but hers was almost a solitary exception and the designers of coins generally aim at producing pictures of the heads of states on them as they really are. At the commencement of the present season, King Leopold was in Dieppe, and when strolling along the plage there he entered, ac cording to his custom, into conver sation with the men working on it. With one of these, whose accent showed him to be a Belgian, he spoke for a considerable time, and when he had left the man turned to his companions and said proudly: "That is my king." "He seems an old friend," said one of the other workman, jestingly. "No," said the other, "I never saw him before." "How do 3'ou know who he is, then?" asked the other, who was manifest ly in doubt as to the truth of the Belgian's statement; but his doubts were quickly set at rest when the man to whom the king had spoken produced silently from his pocket and held up for liis observation a Belgian franc bearing on it King Leopold's counterfeit presentiment. Ample nnd Sweet Itevenee, A young Englishman who had been repeatedly and unnecessarily annoyed by the St. Malo custom house officials made up his mind to get even with them. The last time he had crossed he had brought a ferret over with him, and a minute or so before landing he transferred the creature to a black bag, which he carried with extreme care and an evident desire not to at tract attention. This immediately fetched one of the douaniers, and he swooped down on it with joyful alac rity. Our young Englishman pretend ed not to understand the official, until the Frenchman made his meaning clear by unmistakable signs. Then he slowly and reluctantly unlocked the bag. The douanier plunged in his hand, and—but my pen (let me put it down to my pen) refuses to adequately describe the dramatic scene that en sued. Suffice it to say that the bare recital of it was- balm to my wound ed spirit. I only hope it was our friend at the custom house who made the fer ret's acquaintance. Revenge is sweet. —Continental Chit-Chat. In Mnrlp Antoinette's Pocket. A historical relic of much interest has just been discovered among tbe ar chives of the department of the Seine. This relic is a list of the articles found in the pockets of the dress that the ill-fated Marie Antoinette wore at her execution. The articles were put to public auction for the benefit of San son, the public executioner. The first lot consisted of a small pocketbook in green morocco, containing a pair of pincers, a small corkscrew, a pair of scissors, a comb and a tiny pocket looking glass. The second lot was made up of three little portraits in green morocco cases, one of them be ing surrounded by a metal frame. The two lots fetched a total of lOf. 50c. — Irish Times. Freneli Proverb*. The first and worst of all frauds in to cheat one'» seif. To be happy one must have nothing to forget. The slave is not she who is sold, but she who gives herself. A good intention makes but a short ladder. Happy is he who is not obliged to sacrifice anyone to duty. For all misfortunes there are two remedies —time wad silence. indifference is the heart sleeping. Vhe greatest s>td strongest, above all the cleverest man is he who knows how to wait. The sorrow of to-day makes the happiness of to-morrow.—Detroit Free Pre**. If you do not make it a point to interest yourself in politics—ac tively. I mean —to work for the best principles and to support the best candidates, YOU ARE NOT A GOOD CITIZEN. tDo You Attend + Your country is a collection of + -wr 0% individuals. Its power results 4- 1 OUT L3UCUS * from the union of these individ + =========== J. uals. Your country gives you I By M. A. HANNA, X tremendous benefits. It protects United States Senator from Ohio ... . ... >' m ' "' thc ° ~tcy our liberty and your happiness. It guards your home, your family, holds up high ideals for you and your children. WHAT RETURN DO YOU MAKE FOR ALL THIS? Think the matter over. DO YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU DO AS MUCH AS YOU SHOULD DO? The government of your country begins with the neighborhood caucus—the caucus that is held just a few blocks from where you live. It works up from the caucus to the city, county, state and national conventions, from the township board to the United States house of representatives, the senate and the white house. DO YOU ATTEND YOUR CAUCUS? DO YOU CARE TO KNOW WHEN OR WHERE IT WILL BE HELD? WOULD YOU GIVE UP YOUR LEAST IMPORTANT BUSINESS OR SOCIAL ENGAGEMENTS TO ATTEND IT? Let each man answer these questions for himself. The man who does not discharge this plain duty is not the citizen he should be. Politics would be on a higher plane if the citizens interested themselves in the caucus. IF YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING FOR YOUR COUN TRY YOU ALWAYS HAVE THE CHANCE IF YOU ARE IN POLITICS. No doubt you would respond to a call to arms. Of course you would, you say. Then why don't you respond to the sim plest demand? If you demonstrate by your words and actions that you are for the best interests of the nation, you are performing a splendid mis sion. Your associates will follow your lead. If you are a capitalist, prove that you are part of the working class of the country. Because you are. Let what is the fact be understood: that the employes of capital are the partners of capital. Then there will be less talk of socialism and more united patriotic effort. In the matter of working for the interests of this country there must be no distinction between classes. Each man as a man must do his duty. He must prove that he is worthy of the suffrage by inter esting himself in the government of his own community. And if any man who reads this does not care enough to know the number of the ward in which he lives nor the number of his election precinct he ought to repent and then get busy. RACES IN HOLY LAND. Taey Were VnrtonN, nx AIMO Were tin* CrcedM, llnriiiK the CruMnilfM, The inhabitants whom the eru>«ti ers found in the holy land were of various races and creeds. The larg est element in the population was composed of the Syrians—Christians who spoke Arabic and used the Greek liturgy, but who were nominally sub ject to the Itoman church. They were for the most part agricultural labor ers or artisans. Closely connected with the Syrians were the Maronites, who were renowned for their skill as archers, and who formed one of the most useful portions of the Prankish infantry. The Jacobites and Nestori ans appear to have been the most civ ilized of the native Christians. They had excellent schools and were well versed in the knowledge then common in the orient. The Armenians were especially numerous in the north and were renowned for their bratery. They had welcomed the crusaders, "who," as Matthew of Edessa wrote, "came to break the chain of the Christians, to free from the yoke of the infidels the holy city of Jerusa lem and to tear from the liantjs of the Mussulmans the consecrated tomb which received a God." They joined eagerly in fighting the Mus sulmans and were the most important allies of the Franks. The Greeks or Griffons formed a considerable part of the population, especially in the north. Finally there were a few Georgians or Iberians. Of the non-Christian natives the Arabs and the Turks were the most prominent. The civilization of the former was far superior to that of the Franks. The Turks were not very numerous. They had. but recently ob- ~.v. '*""" . "I'll get that train all rig-lit." — l—l— ~ tained possession of the land and were for the most part soldiers; they were of little or no importance for cultivating 1 the land of commerce. He sides the orthodox Mohammedans there were Druses, Nosairis or Ansar ians, Bathenians or Ismelians and lied u ills. Of Jews and Samaritans, Benja min of Tudela, who was in the holy land about 1165, enumerated 2,500 or more in the account of his travels, and it is probable that he was speak ing only of fhe heads of families. They were employed mainly in dyeing and glassmaking. The Europeans in the holy land, says a writer in the International Monthly, were styled collectively Franks, lint under this designation were included Frenchmen, Normans, Italians, Lotliringians and Proven cals, not to mention the other nations which were less numerously repre sented. Dnrk < on di < I<>n< In Turkey. Briefly stated, the conditions in Tur key are these: The Mohammedan re ligion has degenerated into the prac ticing of dead rites—mere lip service, lacking any meaning to most of its followers. The eastern Christian church, corrupted by centuries of Mos lem dominance, has lost its vitality, is down to par with Mohammedanism so far as concerns the teaching, or even the comprehension of the vital principles of living religion; the masses of the Turkish, the Armenian, the Greek and the Jewish elements of the population have actually lost their old and once mighty literatures.—Ar thur MclLroy, in National Magazine. An Early Start. Dentist—When did your teeth first begin to trouble you, sir? The Victim—When I was about one year old. —Chicago Daily News.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers