6 A HOUSEHOLD HEROINE. The woman behind the preserving pot Is certainly deserving; of fame; She's not like th« man behind the gun, l?ut she's getttng there just the same. The hero Is trying to maim or kill. And great is his showing of nerve; Hut prai.- ■ also goes to the woman who Is using her skill to preserve. Ko time she is wasting In drill or m;trch Which fit the brave soldier for strife: 6he gathirs 'round her what she'll attack, And then gets to work with her knife. She pares and she cores and she cuts with carc Till lingers and muscles are sore; Then hither and thither in other tasks She's hurrying over the floor. She gallantly stands at the tiring line, Unmindful of heat and tdll; All flushed is her face and her eyes are strained By watching the things that there boil. She spices'* and sweetens and stirs and skims. Till weary in arms, back and feet; But bravely she stands till her work Is done, With never a thought of retreat. She carefully gathers the stores of sweets That she has so patiently made. And soon the good things for the winter feasts In jars, cans and crocks are arrayed. 6he thinks not of plaudits for triumph won, Vet. while she no laurels will claim, The woman behind the preserving pot Is certainly worthy of fame. •-Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph. The Trouble afc on the Torolito. BY FRANCIS LYNDE. CHAPTKR VI. — CONTINUED. Here was the battle-field upon which Maepherson had elected to fight for his kingdom. It was well chosen. Unlike the Six-Mile, whose walls were perpendicular cliffs, the upper canyon was a tortuous gulch with precipitous slopes rising sharp ly from the water's edge, lielow (lie settlers' dam the wedge-like rift widened and narrowed again, leav ing a natural basin between moun tain and "hog-back" which would serve admirably as a reservoir for the great irrigation ditch. In this basin the stream had deposited a liar of silt and glistening miea-scliist and white quartz pebbles, the age-old washings of its swift rush down the canyon; and this was doubtless the placer-ground upon which Maepher son bad filed a claim as discoverer. His outline of the status quo be came clearly intelligible. A dam at the final narrowing of the gulch would submerge the bar; and above the basin it. would have to be car ried to an enormous height in the V-shaped chasm to retain a suf ficiently large body of water. 1 re membered the stereotyped reply of the Mexican vaqueros to the "Grin go" pioneers and the Santa Fe trail ers: "Carrajo! poeo mesa rio!" and wondered how much farther up the river the engineer of the Glenlivat company would have togo to find Macpherson's "ready-made" site for the dam. It was at this point in the medita tive excursion lhat the fire of curi osity was lighted, and Macpherson's air of mystery added its armful of fagots. There was 110 good reason why a sick man who was at best but a transient onlrtoker should trouble himself about (he matter, but curi osity knows not age, sex, or previous conditions of servitude to maladies, incurable or otherwise. Wherefore the onlooker must needs slide tremu lously from the saddle, tether the clubfooted beast to a stunted tree growing from a cleft in a near-by bowlder, and make toilful way up the canyon. Wykamp's alternative came into •view beyond the second elbow in the wedge-shaped gorge. It was another scooped-out basin, similar to the one below; and a blazed fir-tree with blue-pencil markings proved that the engineer had already made his pre liminary reconnaissance. Put the in surmountable obstacle to which Mac pherson's mysterious hint pointed was altogether, unapparent. Aside ■from the added expense of tunneling a spur of the mountain for an outlet, the upper basinseemedquite asprom ising as the lower—more promising, in fact, since less masonry would be required. Was there anything in the topography of the canyon to forbid the construction of th«» dam at, this point? To be sure, the steep slopes were • inclined planes of crumbling shale; but the native granite could not be far to seek in excavating. And with the everlasting mountains for his dam-anchorages, the engineer might surely possess his soul in se curity. The sharp-pitched acclivity was slippery with an overlaying of broken shale and fir-needles. I climbed a little higher to a shallow niche where a projecting rock promised a foothold, and sat down to try to puzzle it out and to gather breath for the return. The thin lipped breeze, with the kiss of the snow-caps lingering in its breath, swept softly down from the bald summit of Jim's mountain; and the minimized thunder of the si ream be came the sub-bass in a great organ symphony in which the whispering firs played the sibilant treble. From the wider world below, the voice of a woman rose clear and strong in a prolonged double syllable—some farmer's wife or daughter calling her cow —and the familiar cry was a re minder that the day was done. If one would not have a soft-hearted giant and liis following out scouring the valley for a stray invalid, one must scramble back and mount and ride. The deed, or at least the begin ning of it, fitted itself to the thought. But in the act of rising, the crum bling footiiold gave auii 1 shot down the slippery mountain-side into the stream. For a single jubilant in stan't joy was uppermost. One may well have a shuddering horror of winning out of life by the consump tive's road, and welcome as a mes senger of God's mercy an end swift and measurably painless. Put the in stinet of self-preservation does not, take into account a possible lack of things worth living for. The plunge into the icy waters of the Torolito was sharply reactionary, and with the gasping baptism the battle for life was on. Measured by agonizings it lasted long. The water was no more than waist-dee]), but the might of a strong man would have availed little against the swift down-rush of the torrent in its bowlder-studded bed. Twice and yet once again, I made frenzied shift to struggle to foot or knee in the boiling raceway; anu at the final emergence had a vanishing glimpse of the embankment of the Selter dam with some one standing thereon. It was a woman, and her figure was outlined against the wedge of blue sky beyond the canyon gateway. So much I saw in the. catching of a breath, but when 1 would have cried to her the torrent uprose in its might and effaced ine. CHAPTER VII. "BACK TO THE EARTH AOAIN." If the immortal soul of man be a conscious entity, as some assert, what becomes of it in those lapses of the realities when the wheels of the mental recording machinery stop, and some buffet or bruise of the body corporeal tears a leaf out of the book of time? For a certain curious onlooker, whose queryings sent him to plunge unwillingly into the icy waters of the Torolitan A ver mis, time's clock stopped with a J glimpse of the dam, an outlined fig ure of a woman, and a mighty din ' ning of the flood in his ears. When it began to tick again, it was night, and the point of view was the pil low of a bed in a strange room. A "lamp was burning on a small table at Ihe bed's head, and the room ap peared as a half-story chamber in a substantial log house, with the rough rafters pitching low over the bed. A murmur of voices came from be low, and an intermittent clatter of knives and forks on ironstone china. Presently a chair complained in the room beneath, and a slow step mounted the stair. I closed my eyes wearily to open them when the leisurely steps reached the bedside. The man who stood over me was tall, lean, leathern-skinned; and with 110 more beard than an Indian. If he had not worn his hat nt, the sup per-table below, he had put it onto come upstairs. lie was in his shirt sleeves, and his manner was of those to whom coats are unmeaning luxu ries. "Mandy, she thort she hearn ye stirrin.' " he said, and his speech as sociated itself with my recollection of the leisurely step on the stair. 'C\ ' i-V IT WAS A WOMAN. "Done foun' yourself ag'in, at last, have ye? Feel like ye could eat a little something?" 1 wagged my head on the pillow, and asked the stereotyped question of the lately resuscitated: "Where am 1?" "Ye're here," he replied, with a simple directness which left nothing to be desired. "Nan, she fished ye out 'n the creek, an' we cyarr'd ye up to the house, 'mongst us, an' ye've been here ever since." "Nan?" 1 queried. "Oomlioo; she's my daughter. She was 'sooeyin'' the cow, an' she saw you floppin' 'round in the run-away 'bove the dam. What-all was ye try in' to do, anyhow?" "Trying to get out, if I remember correctly. What is this for?" I put my hand to the bandage on my head. "Hit's a ptirty tolerable bad cut; bumped it ag'inst a rock, I reckon. Hurts some, don't it?" "Not much; but I'm as weak as a child. You say your name is Selter?" "Naw; I didn't say so, but hit air. An' ye're the tenderfoot from Mae plierson's. I've hearn the name, but I misremember bit." "Halcott," I said; and this was my informal introduction to the Selter ho usehold. "Keclcon ye couldn't eat anything," he said, hospitably, after an uneasy pause. "No, I think not." He left me at that, shuffling as he had come; and a few minutes-after ward there was a lighter step on the stair and a tap at the half-open door. I said "Come," thinking it was the daughter. It, was Miss Sanborn. She had improvised a tray out of a tin kettle-cover, a was bringing me a sliee of toast and a cup of tea. Hun ger was not in me, but her thought ful kindness stirred some faint sim ulacrum of it. "Thank you, Miss Sanborn; that very good of you. Put I don't be lieve I could eat a mouthful." CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JANUARY 16 1902. "You must," she insisted. "You are getting better now, but you won't gain strength until you begin to eat. We mustn't let you starve yourself." "There isn't much danger of that, is there?" I queried. "I ate a very hearty dinner, as I remember it." She made the pillows comfortable and sat down at the bedside to bold the improvised tray. "When was that?" she asked. "To-day; two or three hours be fore I started out to ride up the val ley." Her sniih- was a cordial in itself "Nature is kind to us—sometimes. You have suffered dreadfully, and have been very near to death with out realizing it. Your hearty dinner was eaten just three weeks ago to day." It was blankly incredible, and I said so. "It is true. It was lira in 'over, the doctor says. You have been deliri ous all the time when you haven't been unconscious." "The doctor, you say? T didn't know there was one in the valley." "There isn't. Hut Mr. Maepherson brought Dr. Raynor up from the fort, and has kept him here ever snce." I had eaten half of the toast slice nnd was reaching for the other half. She gave it to nie. "That is right; it Mill do you good." "That is just like Mac," T snv. "There is no end to his good-heart edness," "No." She said it frankly, and if there were the faintest flush of self consciousness togo with it, the light was too poor to betray her. It is not lo be expected that a man who had just lifci three weeks i.s the chaos of'delirhfn should be wholly responsible, and I said: "It must liave been a sore trial to him not to lie able to come here to see me." Her straight brows went up in a little arch of surprise, and there was aa alarm signal setting itself in the frank eyes. "Not to be able to come here? Tie has watched with you every night." 1 saw my blunder and was not 100 far c;one to try to retrieve it. "I didn't know," I said. "I thought the trouble between him and Selter might keep him away." She smiled again. There was re lief in it this time, and the alarm signal in the eyes of serenity took flight. "Your illness has been a blessing in disguise," she said; "the troSble be tween them was growing day by day, but Mr. Macpherson's coming here so much has given them a chance to ar rive at a better understanding. Their interests are identical, when all is said." "Yes; but 1 understood that Selter had gone over to the enemy," said I. "lie did sell his water-right to the land company; but he is sorry for that now. Mr. Maepherson has shown him what the result will be; that he will presently have to buy water of the company, at the company's price. Shall 1 bring you another cup of tea?" "No, thank you. But tell me more about —" She shook her head with great de cision. "Not any more to-night. By and by, when you are stronger, Mr. Maepherson will tell you all about it." "Will Mac be here to-night?" "I presume so; yes, certainly he will come. Can I do anything more for you?" Her presence was so restful that I tried to think of some pretext for de taining her. Since nones offered, I was reluctantly constrained to bid her good-night, and I did it with a firm resolve to stay awake long enough to question Maepherson when he should come. But when she was gone, the opiate in the low bum of voices from below stairs struck hands with weakness, and I slept— slept so soundly tjhat I knew not when Maepherson came or went; and it was late the following evening when I awoke out of a doze to find the master of the ranch at my bed side. His greeting was large-hearted, with a little quaver of gratitude in the voicing of it. "By jove! old man; I thought you were going to make a die of It in spite of us," he said, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. "How are you feeling?—a bit stronger and bet ter?" "I'm coming on all right. I think I've slept most of the time for _4 hours—or is it another three weks?" There was a heartening in his laugh "No, it's only a day this time. But you mustn't talk. Doctors are bad people to run up against." "If I can't talk, you'll have to. When I dropped out—or rather in— we were about to take up arms pgainst a sea of troubles. Piece out the story for me and I'll be as quiet as a lamb. Otherwise I shall have a query-fit and run my temperature up. What has happened in my tem porary absence?" Maepherson laughed again. "A whole lot of things have happened. Selter has seen the error of bis ways and is mad—slow-mad like an Indian, and after somebody's scalp—Wy kanip's for preference, though I be lieve he wouldn't hesitate to ambush the entire board of directors after the most approved Tennessee moun taineer style if he had the chance." "What converted him?" "Several things contributed. First, he had to divide the purchase money for the water-right with the other settlers, and there wasn't enough to go around. Then it was discovered that he had been too ignorant or too negligent to secure interim rights—• water to use while the dum-building goes on —and in consequence the whole settlement is likely togo dry through the summer while Wykamp is tearing out and putting in. That stirred up a hornet's nest, right, and when the buzzing began in good earn est lie came to me und wanted advice and help." "And you gave both, I presume?" "1 gave him a Scotch blessing, and sent him oil' with a bee in his bon net to keep the hornets company. I was btill pretty warm usder the col lar. Hut about thaC time you were trying your best 'SJ drop out, and when he tackle i me again .1 weakened. I told him there wasn't anything to do but to grin and bear it —since he'd thrown lip his chance —but he'd got wind of the placer claim alternative and he has been crazy to have me jump 011. I haven't made a move. I'm holding off—jib sheet free and head to the wind, ready to come about at the critical moment. There's 110 hurry. It's work ng beautifully without me just nowj settlers holding indignation meetings in the schoolhouse, where asing and resolving, and everybody mad enough to fight at the drop of the hat. My part has been to pour oil on the troubled waters; not too much oil, you know, but just enough to keep somebody from killing some body else; and I promise you I've had my hands full. One pot-shot from be. hind a bowlder just now would spoii the whole conspiracy." "Is anyone likely to fire it?" I asked. Maepherson wagged his head dubi ously. [To Continued.] A GOOD MENU. Story of 1111 Adventure of Artenni.s \\ a I'll with 11 "Mr*. slnl liisniil" An old friend of Artemus Ward tells tlii.s anecdote in the Century: Down on Canal street one day he encountered a '"Mrs. Mulligan" over her washtub, with her dress pinned up about licr waist, barefooted and rubbing away upon her washboard, some dirty children playing about. He accosted her with a "Good morn ing," and inquired if she would like to do his washing, and what was her price. She straightened up. put her fists upon her hips and with a withering stare said: "I'm not one of those that does washing out of my own family. You're a fine gossoon. I don't even know you by eyesight." Turning to the two boys, she said: "Here, Joseph Ander, take Thomas Ander by the hand and lade him off til skule." Said Joseph Ander: "I've not had me breakfast." "Yes, and ye have. Ye had the blue duck's e#gs and pancakes sopped in gravy. Now be off wid yees." And Artemus said he thought it was time for him togo, lest she might take a fancy to wash his shirt with out lii.s taking it off. The menu pleased him so much that he repeated it again and again, laugh ing heartily at each repetition: "The blue duck's eggs and pancakes sopped in gravy." ANNIE LAURIE'S GRAVE. Smlly NpKlectcd l{cNtiiiK l*lii«*e of (lie Scotch <iirl for Whom (lie SOIIK WON \\ ri((en. Public notice has been directed in England to the grave of Annie Laurie, and the fact that it has been sadly neglected and has remained all these years without a tombstone is attract ing attention. The St. James' Gazette remarks: "Many people are under the delusion that Annie Laurie was mere ly a figment of the poet's; brain, but this was not so. She was the daugh ter of Sir Robert Laurie, and was born in Maxwelton house, which stands on the 'braes' immortalized in the song. Maxwelton house is still full of mem ories of this winsome girl, and in the long drawing-room there st"Hl hangs her portrait. Her lover and the author of the original song was young Douglas, of Fingland, but whether he, as is common with lovers of poetic temperament, did not press his suit sufficiently, or whether she wished a stabler husband, she gave her hand to a prosaic country laird, her cousin, Mr. Alexander Ferguson. They lived the rest of their lives at Craigdarroek house, five miles from Maxwelton, and when s-he died Annie was buried in the beautiful glen of the Cairn. Lady Scott Spottiwoode, who died early in the present year, was re sponsible for the modern version of the song." All Old Miiil-Hox. Among the treasures held by the Antiquarian society in Portsmouth, N. H., there is>- an old box the history of which is given on a label which it bears. The box Is of tin,paintedgreen, arm shows signs of much usage, which is not surprising when one considers that it carried the United States mail between Portsmouth and Boston dur ing the revolution. It is about nine inches long, four and a half inches wivlc and a little more than that in height. It was carried on horseback by Capt. John Noble, otherwise known as Deacon Noble, who was post-rider until 1783. This box contained all the mail, and made every week one round trip, occupying three days in the jour ney—from Portsmouth to Boston the first of the week, and three days at the end of the week from Boston to Portsmouth. The distance between the two places js a little more than 50 miles'. The mail-box is somewhat battered and the paint is faded am 1 scraped, but there is no doubt tha'» in case need arose the stout little box could even now serve as •>* did in the time of the country's peril.—Youth's Companion. Jolly In j?. The only way to jolly some folks is to say that they cannot be jollied.— 1 Washington (la.) Democrat. CARMEN SYLVA'S TALES. "A H«'Ul Fairy To 1 CM" Is Ihe l.iitCMt Hook front the I'eii of ltoniiiaiiia*H U111'i" 11, Elizabeth, queen of Itoumn nia, whose pen name of Carmen Sylva v is known all over the world, has wrif ten a new volume of fairy tales. The book is issued in half a dozen differ ent countries. The American transla tion by Miss Edith Ilopkirk is charm ing in its simplicity and grace, (ieorge T. B. Davis has written an enthusias tic introduction, in which he tells the chief points in Carmen Sylva's life. She is a charming hostess and a bril liant conversationalist, being able to entertain her guests with equal grace in half a dozen different languages. The queen's literary work includes novels, poems, dramas, proverbs, a philosophical treatise, and an opera libretto, but she finds her greatest de light in writing fairy tales. The world-wide popularity of these tales is easily understood after reading her last volume. The stories are about children and for children, and their ideas and imagery as well as their language are just of the right kind to hold a child spellbound. The fairies are of the good* and noble va riety, and their rewards are bestowed j upon the little boys and girls who do the most unselfish acts. The tales j breathe an elevating influence, yet \ their morals are not of the dull or obvious kind. The moral is part of the warp and woof of the story. The, supernatural i.s a subsidiary element in Carmen Sylva's fairy tales. It is used chiefly to give scope to her own tastes and longings, as when she creates a fairy that changes base metal into gold to aid in a deed of kindness, or when she causes a fairy to help a musician in writing a mas terpiece. Her love of the woods, of birds and flowers, of music and chil dren and of gentleness and unselfish ness is embodied ill these tales with real literary art. In the concluding chapter Carmen Sylva explains to her child readers ' ! QUEEN OF ROUMANIA. (Known to All Lovers of Literature as "Carmen Sylva.") how she came to write under that name. She tells what glorious times she had as a little girl playing in the forest, when she would tie her little hood over her dark brown hair and with her two big St. Bernard dogs by her side would race through the for est, avoiding all beaten paths, and listen to its voices. "The forest sang songs to me," she continues, "which I wrote down afterward at home, but which I never showed to anyone. It was our secret —the woods' and mine." When she married she had already written a large volume of poems and had tried her hand at the drama and at prose fiction, having written her first story at the age of II and her first play at 14. "But I knew quite well that it was all very poor stuff." she says. "Not till I was five-and-thirty did I let anything be printed, and that was only because so many people took the pains to copy verses from my scrap book that I wanted to spare them the trouble and simplify matters." She cast about for a name under which to hide her identity, and de cided upon that of Waldgesang, or Woodsong, which in Latin is Carmen Sylvae. As the last word did not look quite like a real name she took the liberty of dropping the final letter and made it Carmen Sylva. Under this name she long hid her royal per sonality. "If to-day I come forth from that shelter that was like the broad leaves of the silver linden spread over me, it is because so many friends, and especially dear children, have asked it of me, and because 1 have now white hair and would so gladly be a grandmother if only God had granted me that blessing." lion- to C'lcnn Coat Collar*. The greasy appearance of a coat collar may be removed by rubbing well with a cloth dipped in ammonia water. Velvet collars may be treated in the same way, but must be held in front of a hot iron directly after to raise the pile. How to Itrmorr Iron Hunt, I run rust can generally be removed if lemon juice and salt is applied, and the garment laid in the sun for sev eral hours. Repeat the operation if the first trial is not successful. CUT GLASS IN FAVOR. Trio of tlir l.ati-at and Maul I'opulai SliiipeM mill CultlnK Driil|i,nii Ut ■ rrilii'd uiiil 111 Mat rut «*U. Although cut glass lias be; n in fa vor for years, yet its popularity from season to season seems to in crease rather than diminish. At first only a certain number of articles were used by fashionable folk of cut glass, but every year the field grows larger and 11 greater variety of pieces are prominent. Compote dishes of cut glass are among the table pieces more recent ly adopted by the smart set, and a trio of the latest shapes and cutting designs are pictured in the accom panying illustration. The upper left hand one shows the Ellsniere pat tern, an unusual design that is much liked. Next to it in the center, the lower, squatty compote is of the Sul tana pattern, one of the most favored LATE CUT GLASS PATTERNS. j designs of all just now. The smallest j of the trio is called the Waverly cut- Ming, and while the least expensive its cutting is in inverse proportion Mo its cost. The three shapes are each entirely different, yet all desir ; able and in mode. The one cone or | lily-shaped cut-glass flower vase has become so familiar and so much used that one gives a warm welcome to anything different, especially when it lis as attractive as is the new vase | pictured in the lower left-hand cor ner of this group. This is an exceed ingly pretty pattern, and in shape, ! cutting and brilliancy is entirely un- I exceptionable. With the colonial fad so prominent the cut glaSs candle stick next the emjiress pattern will find favor in many places in the home, but particularly on milady's dressing table. When topped by a dainty white flower-shaped shade its effect is charming. Goblets are being more and more used for formal af fairs, and many predict their return to vogue for everyday use. The gob let of Corinthian design of our sketch shows a cutting that is showy and brilliant yet not costly in the ex treme either. —-Chicago Daily News. SCOLDING IS AN ART. Do \<>f >lnke Any One llrhuke l.ong Drntvn Out anil Give ICm-li 11 Hopeful Kndint;. The woman in authority should study consideration of other people's feelings. The common scold or the continual fault-finder is perhaps the most disagreeable person in the world, not only unhappy herself, but making others so. Scolding, viewed in one light, is really an accomplishment—that is when used for the proper correction of servants and children. If you feel called upon to deliver a rebuke to a servant make it clear to the offender that your displeasure is justified; never lose your temper, but be calm and dignified, for remember that your bearing has much to do with the respect that you are held in by those under your authority. Never let a scolding degenerate into nagging, for if you do you lose all claim for re spect from the delinquent and the person at fault becomes your critic, and a very scornful critic at that. Let all scoldings be gauged by the error,but do not make dny one rebuke long drawn out. Give each a hopeful ending. When properly administered a mer ited scolding quickly bears the fruit of better behavior 011 the part of the offending one. 1 Many wives have spoiled the good nature of their husbands by seizing upon some fault, trivial perhaps, and constantly dwelling upon it. Where a home is made unhappy by .1 great fault of the husband, if he is worthy of loving and saving, he is more effectively appealed to by ten derness than by denunciation or scorn. There are many men to-day in the wrong path possessed of worthy attributes, who might be saved by gentle reproof from the error of their ways, but are only spurred on their downward course by the unre lenting fierceness of a scolding wife. Those who have been s;jved from evil 1 ways bear witness to the efficacy of the gentle sympathy and loving ad vice of a true helpmate.—X. Y. World. Scor<*li«»«l Spot* on Linen. Housekeepers are very much an noyed by scorched spots on table Knen or articles of clothing, some times. A paste can be made which will remove them entirely. To make this paste, use half an ounce of white castile soap, finely shaved, two ounces of earth, secured at the drug 'gist's, the juice of two peeled onion) and one cupful of vinegar; stir well and let it boil thoroughly. Cool be fore spreading ovet; the scorched spot, and let it remain until dry; then wash out, and the places will have disappeared. How to Drive Awny Rnli. Hats and mice can be driven away by putting potash into their hole* or where they are likely to go. The air will make it soft and sticky, and thcj) dislike it very much.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers