6 GRANDMA'S RIDE TO SCHOOL. 6tlll In memory's cluttered garret hangs a painting, rich ar.d rare. Of a romping lad and lassie, and an old gray, smile mare, That recalls the scenes of childhood—sum mer mornings soft and cool— And the unforgotten pleasure when your grandma went to school. Life another song was singing, both our hearts were blithe and gay; Ar.d whenever, bright and early, I would call for her, she'd say, With a smile of satisfaction: "Bill, I'm sure you're very kind"— Then awt-.y we'd canter slowly—site in front and 1 behind— Over meadows clover-clustered, down the long, leaf-laden lane, On the ancient county turnpike, on the hot and dusty plain, Through (he midway pool, where, somehow, she'd seem overcome with fright, And I'd tell her not to worry, but to "grab and hold me tight!" How our voices rang with gladness, how our laughter mocked the birds, li ow the love that lit our fancies seemed too deep for empty words! How tin- other boys, in envy, lured me onto break each rule, Just to kr.ow tlu- trancing joy I felt when grandma went to school! Father Time, turn back your pages! change these silver locks to gold! Let me live once more the love-life of those dear, dead days of old! Not these dim, delusive day-dreams dreams too beautiful to last. When the heart Is painting pictures of the pleasures that have passed— Just to see her, trim and dainty, In her lit tle gingham gown, Just to hold her hand in mine, as then, and rvad her eyes of brown, Just to hear her say she loved me, and to answer her caress With a something less than Heaven, per haps, but something more than "yes." How that old emotion haunts me! How I thrill at thought of it! How I fe>el a youthful flutter, as her fairy features flit Through the softly swaying shadows. where the locust blossoms wave. Through the moonlight of my memory just a shadow from the grave! Ah! the old gray mare Is waiting, and the morning s'un Is high, And the sehoolhouse bell is ringing, from the belfry in the sky. And I see the same old turnpike, meadow, plain, and midway pool- As my fancy calls her back from Heaven to ride with me to school. —Robert Mackay, in Success. A Knave of Conscience By FRANCIS LYNDE. (Copyritf >il lUOQ, bj Francis Lynda.) CHAPTER IIL Two dflys after the Adelantado cleared for the banana coast; or, to be fnore accurate, in the forenoon of Ihe second day, the unimpetuous rou tine of the business quarter of New Or leans was rudely disturbed by the shock of a genuine sensat ion. At ten o'clock, Mr. Galbraith, presi dent of the Bayou state bank, entered his private office in the rear of the main banking apartment, opened his desk, and addressed himself to the business of the day. Punctually at ten five the stenographer, whose desk was in the anteroom, brought in the mail; five minutes later the cashier entered for his morning conference with his superior; and at half-past the hour the president was left alone to read his correspondence. Mr. Galbraith was a serions-minded man whose hobby was method; and it was his custom to give himself a quiet half-hour of inviolable seclusion each morning in which to read and consider his letters. During this interval the stenographer, acting as usher, was in structed to deny his chief to callers of whatsoever degree. Wherefore, when the door of the private office opened at twenty minutes of eleven to admit a stranger, the president was justly annoyed. "Well, sir?" he said, with an accent Irritant, taking the intruder's meas ure in a swift glance shot beneath his bushy white eyebrows. The visitor was a young man not over thirty, of prepossessing appear ance, with a figure rather slight for his stature; fair, with blue eyes, and a curling brown beard and mustache, the former trimmed to a point. So much the president was able to remark at a glance, and to remember after wards. "Well, sir!" he repeated, when the ctranger stopped to carefully close the door, "if you have business with me, 1 shall have to ask you to excuse me for a few minutes. He good enough to take a seat in the ante-room till 1 ring. McKarlanil should have told you." The young man drew up a chair and sat down, ignoring the request as if lie had not heard it. Now Mr. Andrew Clalhraith's temper was ordinarily the temper of an elderly gentleman with a long upper lip. worn clean shaven, but such a deliberate infraction of his rules was not to be borne patiently, und he got up to ring for the janitor. I'llt when his hand sought the bell pu-.h, he found himself looking into the muzzle of a revolver in the hands of the intruder, and so was fain to fall back into his chair, gasping: "VVha what do you mean, sir! Who are you and whul do )i<u want?" lie •tammered. The reply was most aucciuet and to the point. "I am i poor man,and 1 want money. If you call for help. I shall shoot you." "You would murder me?" Ihe pres ident'* hands 'A ere clutching the arms uf the chair, and he was fighting des* jterutely 112 t courage and presence of mi ml iu his extremity. "Not willingly, I assure you; hut aiii»t certainly, if you attempt to give the alarm- Hut there is no oci a m>m fur ftrcdlrx an&iety It is ntarelj tque»- tion ul MioHi'V and if >ouai ■ amenable till', II J II I ' I. II t 111 i liL'er " "If I'm but I'm not amenable tu ■aurrea ul* •it !" exclaimed Ike |jres id<-nt, recovering somewhat fi- m the Hist »h« k of leri tiled bewilderment **4 Iflv ii.lt .tu them Ili uul have anything to do with you. Go away." The young man smiled in a way to show his teeth. "Keep your temper, Mr. Galbraith," he said, coolly. "1 say you shall listen first and obey afterward. Otherwise you die. Which is it to be? Choose quickly —time is precious." The president yielded the first point, but ungraciously, as one under strict compulsion. "Well, well, then; out with it. What have you to say for yourself?" "This. You are rich; you represent the existing order of things. I am poor, and 1 stand for my necessity, which is above any man-made law or custom. You have more money than you know what to do with; 1 have not enough to buy the next ineal, which is already twenty-four hours overdue. 1 came here this morning with my life in my hand to invite you to share with me a portion of that which is yours only by the right of possession. If you do it, well and good; if not, you die. Do 1 make myself sufficiently clear'.'" The president glanced furtively at the clock. It was nearly eleven, and M'Farland would surely come in on the stroke of the hour. If he could only gain a little time, lie searched in his pockets and drew forth a handful of coin. "You say you are hungry; well, I'm not that well off that 1 canna remem ber the time when I knew what it was to be on short commons inysel'," he said; and the relapse into the mother idiom was a measure of his perturba tion. "Take this now, and be off with you." The younger man glanced at the clock in his turn and shook his head. "You are merely trying to gain time, and it won't do. My stake in this game is more than a handful of silver; and I don't do you the injustice to suppose that you hold your life so cheaply— you who have so much silver and gold and so few years.to live." The president put the little heap of coins on the desk, but he did not aban don the Struggle for delay. "What's your price, then?" he de manded, as one who is willing to com promise. "One hundred thousand dollars —in money." "Hut, man! you're clean daft! Do ye think I have —" "I am not here to argue the possibil ities," —the interruption was sharp and incisive. "Take your pen and write out a check payable to your own order for one hundred thousand dol lars, and do it now! If that door opens before we have concluded, you are a dead man!" Then Andrew Galbraith saw that his end was nigh, and gathered himself for a final effort at time-killing. It was absurd; he had no such balance to his credit; such a check would not be hon ored; it would ruin him irretrievably. In the midst of his vehement protest the stranger stepped back a pace and raised the weapon. "I tell you you are trifling with your life! Do it while there is yet time!" The sound of subdued voices came from the anteroom, and . the be leaguered old man stole a glance at the face of his persecutor. There was no mercy in the fierce blue eyes glaring down upon him, but rather madness and fell murder. The summons came once again. "Do it quickly, I say, before we are interrupted. Do you hearS" Truly, the president both heard and understood, but he hesitated yet one other second. "You will not? Then may God have mercy—" The hammer of the leveled pistol clicked twice. Andrew Galbraith shut his eyes and made a blind grasp for Ills ASKED THE WAITER CONCERN ING THE UPROAR. pen and check-book. His hands were I shakingus with a palsy, but the fear of death steadied them suddenly when he I came to write. "Indorse it!" was the next eom ! mund. The voices had ceased in the anteroom, ami the silence was broken 1 only by the labored strokes of the president's pen anil the tap-tap of the typewriter in the anteroom. "Now eoine with me to your paying teller and get me the money. Make what explanation yon see tit; hut remember thai if he hesitates you die." I hey left the private office together, j title by side; the young nun with his 1 right hand under his coat. The presi dent Wreathed a little freer when they reached the lobby of the main apartment and was not without hope that chalice might still illlericliti to ' save him. It did not. There uere but few cus tomer* ill the hank at that hour, and the pre idrnt tried in tttllt to euUh a responsive e t e At the paying teller' window there was old * one pet on in»tead of the group which Andrew tiulbraith had Imped to Hnd there; a .voting woman who his getting a ill aft cashed. >h» j them and Mould bftt* stood aside, Out the rubber forbade it with ages tuie, aml they waited for a few trying luoiunnte until she was served CAMERON COUNTY PRESS. THURSDAY, AUGUST 28. 1902 When the young woman went her way the president stepped to the win dow and presented the check. Up to that instant he had clung desperately to the hope that some fortunate hap pening- would forestall the catastro phe; now he was determined to give the teller a warning signal, come what might. But on the pinnacle of resolu tion the robber came closer, and An drew Galbraith felt the pressure of the pistol muzzle against his side—nay, more; he fancied he could feel the cold chill of the metal strike through and through him. "Give me currency for that, John son," he said, with what composure there was in him. The teller glanced at the check and then at his superior, not too in quisitively, since it was not his duty to question the president's order. "How will you have it?" he asked; and it was the younger man who an swered. "Three hundred in fives, tens and twenties, loose, if you please. The remainder in the largest denomina tions put up in a package." It was done as he directed, and he followed the teller's count as methodically as if it had been the most commonplace of business transactions. When the money was handed him he stuffed the smaller bills carelessly into his pocket, put the package containing the ninety nine thousand odd dollars under his arm, nodded to the president, backed away to the door and vanished. Then it was that Andrew Galbraith suddenly found speech, opening his mouth and pouring forth a torrent of frenzied incoherence which pres ently got itself translated into a hue and cry; and New Orleans, the unim petuous, had its sensation ready made. CHAPTER IV. If Kenneth Griswold had been neither more nor less than a pro fessional highwayman he would probably have been taken and jailed within the hour, inasmuch as his cast for fortune included no well wrought out plan of escape. Hut since he was both wiser and less cun ning than the journeyman bank rob ber, and was, moreover, a hungry en thusiast who had argued himself into the belief that his act was mere ly illegal and not wrong, he threw the police off the scent by doing that which no criminal would have had the nerve to do. Once safely in the street, with the package of bank notes under his arm, he was moved to do some ex travagant thing celebrative of his success. It had proved to be such a simple matter, after all; one bold stroke; a small bloodless tussle with the plutocratic dragon whose hold upon his prey is so easily broken; and presto! the hungry proletary is himself a power in the land, strong to do good or evil as the gods may direct. This was the prompting to levitn tion as it might have been set in words; but in Griswold's thought it was but a swift suggestion, followed immediately by another which was much more to the purpose, lie was hungry; there was a restaurant next door to the bank. Without a thought of the risk he ran, or of the audacious subtlety of such an ex pedient at such a critical moment, he went in, sat down at one of the small tables and calmly ordered breakfast. Now, hunger is a lusty special pleader, and it will make itself heard above any pulpit drum of the higher faculties; hence Griswold thought less of what he had done than of what he was about to eat, until the line and cry reminded him that the chase had begun. Whereupon, not to be suspiciously incurious, he put on the mask of innocence and asked the waiter concerning the uproar. The man did not know what had happened, but he would go and find out if M'sieu' so desired "M'sieu' " said breakfast first and informa tion afterward, by all means. Roth came indue season, and Griswold ate while he listened. Transmuted into the Creole-Eng lish of the serving-man, the story of the robbery lost nothing in its sensational features. "Ha! Wat you fink, M'sieu'?' De bank nex' do' is been rob!" and upon this theme excited volubility descants nt large. The bank was surrounded by a gang of desperate men and every exit guarded while the leader, a masked giant, armed to the teeth, had compelled the president at the muzzle of a pistol to pay a ransom of fifty—one hundred—Ave hundred thousand dollars. With the money the gang had vanished, the masked giant tiring the pistol at M'sieu' the president as he went. Cross-examined, the waiter could not affirm positively as to the shot. Rut in for the rest there could be uo doubt. Griswold ordered a second cup of coffee, and while the waiter tarried, conscience lint tho enlightened eon science, but the conventional bent its bow anil sped its final arrow. It was Ktiddenly brought home to the enthusiast with sharp emphasis that to all civilized mankind, uvt and cx lejitinif only those few chosen ones who shared his peculiar convictions, he wu.i a toiuuiou thief, a robber, an outlaw. Public opinion, |»'ti*ut Id I or ex (trussed, l» at l»>- t hut an intangible thing; but for a few aaeunda Oris* wold writhed under the ban of it a- if it had been a whip of -.< oi'pinun 'I hen he niniled to think how Htroiig are the bond* of uimtoiu, and von wienie tliin.' away It* empty quiver. None the lea*, the cut It u*|a»t va* rather thankful for the It k##vtMl to remind him aft'i h of his iiii -otoM. I hi. w>n*y which ha had j ' it wr»»ttd from ih« plutw cratic dragon should be held as a sacred trust; it should be devoted scrupulously tc the cause of the op pressed. Just how it was to be ap plied he had not yet determined, but. that could be decided later. Meanwhile it was very evident that the dragon did not intend to accept defeat without a struggle, and Gris wold set his wits at work upon the problem of escape. "It's a little queer that I hadn't thought of that part of it,"he mused. "I suppose the other fellow, the real robber, would have figured himself wifely out of it—or would hav# thought he had—before he made a move. As I didn't, I've got to do it now, and there isn't much time to throw away. Let me sec—" he shut his eyes and went into the inventive trance beloved of the lit erary craftsman—"the keynote must be originality. 1 must do something that the other fellow wouldn't think of doing." He dallied with the second cup of coffee and outlined a plan, basing it upon a further cross-questioning of the waiter. The man had been to the door again, and by this time the street excitement had subsided suf ficiently to approach the truth. The rumor of an armed gang guarding the bank doors had been a canard. There had been but one man, and the street gossips were beginning to describe him with discomforting ac curacy. Griswold paid his score and went out with studied nonchalence. He reasoned that, notwithstanding the growing accuracy of the street re port, he was in no immediate dan ger so long as he remained in the immediate vicinity of the bank. It was safe to assume that this was one of the things that the journey man bank robber would not do. Rut it was also evident that he must speedily lose his identity if he hoped to escape; and that the lost identity must leave no trace behind it. [To Be Continued.] NOT A DISAPPOINTMENT. The flanntliiK Fenr of a Fair Mnld'a Mother Ilegrur«lliik Youiik Daniel Webiiter. "Pumpkin pie and professors plen ty; wheat and poetry a good deal blasted; girls and gingerbread as sweet as ever," wrote Daniel Webster gaily in one of his youthful letters to a friend, says Youth's Companion. Indeed, it is well known that he was by no means a serious or insusceptible youth, however awe-inspiring in I.is maturity, for in his early writings law, finance and politics are diversi fied by a series of charming Nabbys, Fannys and Sallies, upon whose ways and witcheries he expatiated or jest ed in fickle succession to his young correspondents. lie seems also to have been popular with the young ladies themselves and their mammas; but a tradition exists of one sharp old lady, the aunt of a very pretty girl to whom young Daniel had paid some attention, who did not at all approve of him. Her objection has been handed down among her de scendents as a cherished family anec dote. "If that- young Webster ever turns out to be all he looks like, he will be somebody very much greater than it's likely he is," she was wont to say; "but it our Lyddy should marry him in hopes, and he just stayed like other folks, why, it wouldn't be fair to blame the boy, I suppose, but he'd be a dis app'intment; yes, he certainly would be a disapp'intment!" The fair Lydia, however, was only one of many transient fascinators. She remained heart-whole and unam bitious, and suffered no "disapp'int ment"—not even in the fact that Dan iel Webster never gave her the oppor tunity to refuse him. A \\ nII r Moraliat. The following is an extract from a letter in the Rloemfontein Post, signed "J. G. Moliafi." "Proper Kafir beer is our own food, and the beer that makes the black people drunk is stuff that is mixed with spirits of wine and other kinds of rubbish. How can we walk in the narrow path if some dishonest brothers spoil. Sir, if you drink proper Kafir beer you will never get drunk. No, not even if you drink till you busty. I have before written The I'ost and pointed out to my brothers that they must not drink rubbish, otherwise they will go off the narrow path and land in the prison cells; I nearly was in the broad path not to clean my yard once a time; and my advice is still the same, viz., drink good beer and keep your back yard clean; I am an educated native, and I am a teach er in my spare time, and I do my duty by teaching the young to drink pure, unmixed beer, even at my tea parties. I use my iutluence,"—Lon don Mail. ('nt olijeeletl to lin in ernloit. Rev. Cyrus Tow nsend Brady tells a story of a little hoy he knew on the frontier, who belonged to a fam ily who had trained him to believe in the deep wuti-r form of baptism, and was experimenting with the household cat and a bucket of wa ter. The animal evidently did Hot be lieve in Immersion, for she resisted, bit and scratched, until finally the little boy, with his hands covered with Mriitchi' , and with tears in his eve., iruve up the effort to afreet the regeneration "112 the eat, "Bog gone you," Ik- fried, "go and be an LpiM eopal •at. if you to." Detroit Kr. e Press. lit* tliilelua. fiti I 1111*1 I* this uha road to Hunn > Dale? tlli! l uliatiit int It has been for the lu-t 6'l ' 4l'», ill'l I gus«s It '• yat Indian* PUZZLE PICTURE. -v 4• • jfiFA Wfi »''' "HAVE YOU FKD THE CHICKENS t" TO WHOM IS SHE SPEAKING? WOMEN TO BE BARRED. Sew York Sto<*l£ llrokfrs Start n Movement to Kx elml p Them from Offleew. There is a movement among brokers in New York to exclude women from their business houses and to deny them the privilege of speculating in stocks. Femininity, they say, has been given a fair chance to show its adaptability in"the street," and has failed miserably, reports the New York Times. For a long time many brokers have considered women undesirable pat rons for a multitude of reasons. Of late the opposition has crystallized, and several prominent firms have taken a I bold, determined stand to ostracise | those members of the fair sex whose gaming instinct and desire to get rich ■ quick prompt them to speculate on ' the markets. The following is a copy of a letter sent out by a well-known firm of stock brokers. It shows plainly the attitude of brokers, and it is not unlike letters | that have been sent out recently by | other firms: "Mrs. . Dear Madam: AVe regret to Inform you ! that In future we shall be unable to afford j you the privilege of calling at our oilice J on Blank street. Wetlr.dthat * * * some ' of our best customers consider it undigni fied for women to frequent brokers' oltices, and for that reason beg to ask that in fu ture you will kindly communicate with us only by letter or telephone, in this matter We have used indiscrimination. Every wom an who has an account or who has done business with us will receive similar no tice by the same mail. Yours very truly, "Stock Brokers, Broadway." "A woman is a nuisance anywnere outside of her own home," said a well known reputable stock broker to a reporter who called on him at iiis of fice in a lower Broadway skyscraper the other day. "In the first place, a broker's office is no place for a woman. The average woman knows little about brokerage. Business instinct is not innate in the woman, ordinarily speaking, and, worse than that, she can't learn. Tell her all you know about stocks and market conditions and practices, and the next day she will ask you the same thing again. "Another thing: The woman who de sires to trade in stocks, knowing noth ing of tliein or the business, wants the broker to become her confidant, to tell just where and when to buy or sell, if she makes something out of an in vestment made on a broker's advice, she gloats over her shrewdness 'on the street,' and the broker gets no credit whatever. Should she lose, and every broker must go wrong in predic tions once in awhile, then there's the devil to pay." Rrokers say that a woman does not seem to be able to realize that there is a possibility of losing in speculating in stocks. Therefore she is what a j gambler would call a "bad loser." Of [ course, there is an occasional woman | wlio knows the market ami its siniios ities, and is as "game" as any man! on the street. Rut she is mighty j One does not think of the cafe as a force for social, moral or in tellectual advancement. Nevertheless, on the Kast side in New York 00000000000000000000000000 11 ll(H ' s nuu l 1 £IT C •ID 8 During the day the East Side 101* Social neller- g Cafe i> a restaurant |>ure and situ § mei\t—The Cafe I p,c A "" ,°' cl ° cl J* ~ O evening and until two in the g By DR. DAVID BLAUSTEIN, g morning character i> changed, o syp.nhi«i.j»n! Juijiioimi Aiiun.t, $ Then the workingman is finishing caoooooooooooooooooooooooo '''* l ' vl ' n '"K >t*oll, the professional man relaxation; the people are returning home from the theater or from visiting friends. Clerks ami storekeepers have finished the da\'s business. All enter the cafe, where they are sure to meet friends, and there over -teaming glasses of Russian tea and the fragrance of Russian cigarettes enter into spirited discussion* upon topics of interest, philosophic, re li. ioiis, scientific, economic, dramatic, literary, aesthetic. The cafe is more than a cluh; IT IS A l ; i>Rl M. There is no c la li of cults (June the contrary. 1 JilTerent cafes heconie the head quarters fur men of like taste-, and sympathies So in one are to he found artists, in another socialist* ; in another musician*. In intcllc. t'.ial Miinulu* the cafe ma\ he likened to the chili. |( a cinivial alinos|iht ii and l.u L <1 restraint nives breadth t«» the tlii'iu ht. \i\i<tile ■> t«» the imagination, hnlhancv to the expression Tin • tin vmi I B\ PAR lilt Ml I i i'« 'IT \rHiHI \r AND INTI-UUUCTL'AI, IMT.LISNCK ON TilH KAST SIDK. scarce. The ordinary woman specula tor and trader makes an awful fuss when she makes a losing investment. Sometimes the spectacle is ludicrous in the extreme, but more frequently it is a sad one. Many women with the (raining instinct, who, besides seek ing the excitement attendant upon the speculation, hope to pet wealthy in a few <1 ays, go into it when the money they stake isneededforthenecessaries of life for themselves anil their fam ilies. The result of the failure in the latter instance is pitiable. To the broker it is nerve-racking'. GOOD ENOUGH REASON. Why There Wan >o ton verxnt ion Be- TWEEN the Wit NEMM mid >1 p. IlilllnßM. "Your honpr," said the solicitor for the defense, relates Tit-Bits, "I wish to prove by this question that the witness is a man of quarrelsome dis position. hard to get along with, and on bad terms with his neighbors. Now, sir," he continued, turning again to the witness, "I'd like to I know whose farm is next to yours?" "Well." answered the witness, i "there is the Billings' farm, mul the—" "Slop there. One at a time. Are you on friendly terms with Mr. Bill ings?" "1 can't say I am." "Are you even on speaking terms with him?" "No, sir." "Whose fault is it?" "It's liis fault, I reckon." "Oh, yes; it's his fault, you reckon. | llow long has it been since you have | spoken to him?" "About 14 years, as near as I can remember." "Now. sir, T want you to tell this jury why you have not spoken to Mr. Billings for 14 years." "Gentlemen," said the witness, turning to the jury, "the reason why I haven't spoken to Mr. Billings for 14 years is because that's about tho length of time he's been dead." lift ween Friend*. "No. Mr. Dudleigh," said the beautiful girl with the old-rose hair, "I can never be your wife, but I shall always lie your friend." "Then before I go," rejoined the young man as he calmly lit a paper covered coffin nail, "1 have one last word to say to you as a friend." "What is it?" she asked after the manner of the curious sex. "It is this,"he replied. "I think you have stacked the cards against yourself in this game. You lose by winning, while 1 win by losing."— Chicago Dally News. •liiit n l.lltle Hint. "Your father doesn't seem to re gard me very favorably," remarked ( holly. "Does he think I'm too dash ing?" "No," wearily replied the girl who was already in her third season. "He thinks you are too slow."—Chi cago Post.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers