6 THE LAST DREAM. °"N»y, Rive me back my spinning wheel," She prayed: "Ah, look, nty hands are strong, Give back the spindle and the reel — My needs to the dead past belong— The old-time fancies round me throng And make me >*oung and blithe once itvore With my spinning wheel beside the door. "For one, upon a time like this Came up the old, sweet orchard way. And took our first betrothal kiss; An hour like this, all warm and gray, With shadows flung like dreams at play. And long he would not go, but stayed for love of me. his spinning maid. "He came up through the pir.xter blows— He lovtd the soft, unfolding flowers, 4ki.u even now, when Hesperus glows Through the faint shadowed, fragrant hours, When things are sweet with drifting showers, i hear his step, again I feel The ,ost thrtll of my spinning w heel. "lie said he loved this leafy place, And lovi d the old wheel's drowsy tunef •Hi had the poet's tender grace— "J'was like a—something old—a rur.e, Some hymn-like thing, like Bonnie Doon, While up and down, with joyous tread 1 walked and'drew my long white thread. "And w hen 1 htar the one great call That bids me hence, thls4s my prayer— Togo when night's first shadows fall — They'll hide my old gray face, ai d hair, They'll take me in this homely chair To where my lost love lies, ar.d make til y grave by hi^—for old love's s.ike." Her heart beat with the happy press Of old remembered dreams ar.d sighs, flrr lips were sweet with tenderness Of love that never 112 ides or dies. The love light of the sunset skies t'rept up ar.d' kissed her faded eyes, Ar.d as the white head trembled down, Wove round it the saint's shlr.lng crown. —Millie \V. Carpenter, in Springfield CMass.) Republican. A Knave of j Conscience I By FRANCIS LYNDE. I ICopyright I'JW, by Fraud* Lymlu.) CHAPTER XVII.—CoNTiNt'ED. Griswold's pale face flushed, and his finger-tips tingled again. "You «re very kind; kind and charitable. I think sympathy has been an un known quantity in my equation. May I really come to see you as a friend?" "Haven't I said it?" she asked; and <she might have emphasized it had not Raymer come to take Griswold borne. Raymer's sorrel had covered half the distance from the lake edge to Mrs. Holcomb's before its owner said: "Well, how near do we come to aping the manners of the effete east?" "I'm no authority," said Griswold; adding as a salve: "I enjoyed it." "Then you weren't bored?" "1 fancy Miss Grierson doesn't often bore people, does she?" "No; she has a knack of stroking you the right way. It takes her fa ther to do the other thing." "The magnate? I thought you said he was a public benefactor." "Did 1? We've told ourselves that till we've come to believe it. But he's principally for Jasper Grierson at bottom." "Naturally. Greed is the Jupfjpr naut of this end of the century." "Bah! That's a sheer platitude in your mouth, Griswold. You don't know anything about it, you men of Setters and leisure. It's simply a savage fight, for survival, and the man with the money wins." "Yes? I believe I've said some such thing myself. But I've been hoping you'd manage to escape." "I might have escaped. I was do ing well enough, but I coulcfh't stand it to see the town growing away from me. So I borrowed money and spread myself; and now I'm fighting for dear life with the rest of them." Griswold's comment was brief and to the point. "Tell me about it,"he caid. "It's a short horse and soon cur ried," said the iron master, bitter- I.v. "Two months ago I borrowed $0.1,000 of Jasper Grierson's bank. I gave him a 00-day note and a mort gage, with the verbal understanding that I was to have my own time for payment. The d 0 days will be up Tuesday, and he has notified me that 1 must lift a third of the indebted ness on that day." "A third!" es, Of course it's preposterous. He knew all the circumstances at the time; that the loan was a build ing fund which couldn't bear fruit until it was planted." Griswold shook his head. "You certainly took tertilic chances." "Didn t I? It proves what a man will do when he is greed-bitten. And the Worst of it is that three fourths of the original capital be long to my •lother ami sister, and they were both distrustful of the •spread-eagle move with Grierson as a backer." Griswold was silent while the sor rel was measuring a full square. Then he said: "What is Grierson's object?" "I don't know. To break me or to own me, 1 suppose." "There may be an alternative; what was it you told me this morn ing about the little social melee?" Raymer pulled the sorrel up short. "Heavens! you don't suppose she has put him up to it for that!" "1 suppose nothing that involves sHmk Grierson. But isn't it possible that her father may be resentful for her? I believe if you could persuade your mother and Miss Gertrude t« rail teev liter's laugh was not mirthful. "Votl would be the hist man in the world to act upon a sugge th»n of *h it, «sort yourii-lf. Griswold." "Oh, I don't know. If it is only a little social friction —" "It's more than that; though why it should be I don't know. I Relieve my mother and Gerty would face beggary cheerfully before they would pay that price. Anyway, I shant' ask them." "What will you do?" "If I knew 1 shouldn't be unload ing my grief on you." They hud reached Mrs. Holcomb's gate and Raymer cramped the buggy at the curb. But Griswold did not get out. Instead he put one hand on Raymer's knee and said: "Have you ever thought of taking a partner?" Raymer's smile was a mere grim ace. "It begins to look as if I should have te one that 1 don't want." "It needn't come to that. I have some money which 1 want to invest where it will do the most good to the greatest number. You spoke this morning of some plans you had in view for the betterment of your workmen. If you will carry them out, and let me help, we can arrange a little surprise for Mr. Grierson." Raymer was stupefied, as he had a good right to be. But lie managed to ask how. "In the simplest way imaginable. Come to me to-morrow morning and I will give you the money to take up your note and the mortgage." "You? But, Griswold, man, you didn't understand me. It's ninety— five—thousand dollars!" lie said it slowly, so that the misunderstanding; might be removed. Griswold climbed out of the buggy carefully, as befitted his weakness. But when he turned to say good night his grasp was the grasp of an athlete. "1 understand you perfectly, my dear fellow. You shall have it all, and a little more, if you need it. And when you've broken the Grier son s>"rip we'll talk about the part nership. Good night." CHAPTER XVIIT. After all, it was Raymer who was responsible for Griswold's introduc tion to Charlotte and her aunt. It was after the partnership—a silent partnership by Griswold's express condition—had been formed and Griswold had been taken into the Raymer household as well as into the Raymer firm. It was thus that he found him self included in a family invitation to the doctor's, and it was thus that Raymer became his sponsor. Not that a sponsor was greatly needed. The good doctor had come to know and to love his some-time patient, and the invitation to Griswold in his proper person had not been lacking. It was inevitable that he should meet Miss Farnham with some de gree of restraint, and that the en tire evening should scarcely suffice for its efTaeement. As a matter of fact it was not properly effaced un til the time came for an adjourn ment to the broad veranda, and the '•» • fa}' - I• 1 1 | "YOU SHALL HAVE IT ALL." darkness of the stariit night helped him. lie fancied, and assured him self a hundred times that it was only fancy, that he could now and then surprise a vague question in the cool gray eyes; and with the eyes in abeyance he felt more at ease. "You are new to our northern summers, aren't you, Mr. Griswold?" she asked, when they were comfort ably established out of doors an<l the general talk had subsided suf ficienlly to admit of dialogue. "Altogether new; and they are very delightful, if this is an earnest. What a charming prospect you have here with the lake for a vista. But for that matter, Waliaska is an ideal place." Her laugh had not in it the tin kle of silver bells, like Miss Grier son's, but it was as honest as the gray eyes. "ideal?—after New York?" "After any great city. I firmly be lieve the time will come when none but the sordid ones will live in the great centers." "That would be ideal, surely. Hut ; I can't argue with you. I don't know ] any of the cities, to really know ; them. I'assintf through isn't even a | speaking acquaintance." "No; and yet they impress one even at sight." "Ves. And after all, their units I are the units of humanity, and hu ! inanity is the same. For instance, 1 | imagine one could go over there and Cet a very good idea of the human 1 side of New Orleans." She pointed i to the summer resort hotel on the i point beyond the Grierson mansion I which had been opened within the week. "I presume so," he assented; and then he asked if they ever met any of the summer people. "Not intentionally," she laughed, , "They bring their own hoeial atuioi |)liere with them and ask little <if us. We did meet one young man la t miminer; a Mr. Lucius llainbridge." "Bit In bridge ?" echoed liii wold. I "VVIM I I now that is er i UM-II to CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9 1902. know some Bainbridges in New York." "Did you? Mr. Lucius Bainbridge was from New York originally, I be lieve. Be is a newspaper man in New Orleans." Griswold was struck dumb with this fresh proof of the extreme nar rowness of the world, and wondered what would happen if Bainbridge "Should perchance come again and find him in Wahaska. He changed the subject with a violent wrench, and said: "The new opera house is to be opened next week. I wonder if the company will be worth going to see?" "You surprise me," she said. "Haven't you heard that Mr. Grier son is to import it especially for this occasion?" "I hadn't heard. Ts your aunt able togo out in the evening?" "Not to anything as prolonged as an opera sitting." "Oh; I'm sorry." He turned to Mrs. Haymcr. "Mrs. liaymer, could you be induced to chaperon a thea ter party next Monday evening?" "You're too late,"was the reply. "We are all going, and you arc in cluded." Griswold turned quickly to Char lotte. "May I call for you and your fa ther?" She gave him permission, and after that the tete-a-tete passed to other things; to a gay party steaming past in a lighted launch, for one. "Is that the hotel launch?" he asked. "No, indeed; you are quite behind the times. That is Mr. Grierson's boat with a party from Mereside." The Farnham lawn sloped quickly to the waterside, and the launch was steaming slowly along within a stone's throw of the group on the veranda. The little steamer carried its own dynamo, anil was ablaze with electric lights. Griswold saw the party as it passed in review; saw Miss Grierson at the wheel in the bow, and saw the banker lounging in the stern sheets. With the ex ception of her father and one other Miss Grierson's guests were nil young people; but Griswold caught his breath when he recognized the portly figure sitting erect beside the banker. Truly, he had seen the clean-shaven face with its long up per lip but once, but that once was enough. It was Mr. Andrew Gal braith. CHAPTER XIX. The robbery of the Bayou bank was already an old story when De tective Griffin returned to New Or leans from bis voyage to Guatemala. He was a successful man in his call ing, and he took up the case of the bank robbery at once; not only foi the reward, but because he was will ing to try if he could not send the shaft home after his St. Louis col leagues had sped their arrow and missed the mark. lie did not begin where the St. Louis officers had left off. lie saw at once that the real identity of the robber bad not been established by the anonymous letter describing one John Gavitt. lie suspected that the name was a mere mask, and the proof of this was shortly clinched by evidence easily procured that the real John Gavitt had died in the lit tle lowa river town which was his home, a short fortnight after the date of the robbery. Ilence it followed that Gavitt had been impersonated in the Belle Julie's crew by tlie escaping culprit, and with President Galbraith's de scription of the man for a starting point, Griffin first searched the "Kogues' Gallery" for a face which might stand for the original. This search, though it was made as care fully as if he fully expected to find the man's portrait in the criminal records, was as barren of results as he expected it would be. "It is just about as 1 put it up," he said, at the end of the photo graph inspection. "The fellow isn't a professional at. all; be is some hare-brained crank, and this is his first break." This point established, there were two courses open; to try to trace the man in New Orleans, and so to determine his identity; or to take up the lost clew in St. Louis. Since it asked for less time, Griffin did the latter first, and succeeded in besting the St. Louis officers by one move. For them the fugitive had disap peared, handcuffed, in the runaway carriage; for Griffin he reappeared a little later at Mr. Abram Sonne schein's emporium, but was lost again when he left with his pur chases. Griffin went back to New Orleans, baffled but not discouraged. As be fore, the case turned upon llie pivot of identity. When he should have learned the man's name and place in the world it would be an easy mat ter to truck him down. Accordingly he went to the bank and asked again for the anonymous letter. "You have tried every means to place the writer of this, Mr. Gal braithV" he queried. "Kverything we could think of. Tt. might be any one of the hundred transient customers we served that day." "It is a woman," hazarded Griffin, at a venture. "Doilbt less." "Was there a woman in the bank when you went with the fellow to cash DM eh—k?" "There was. She was nt the teller's window." "Did you notice her particularly?" "Not well enough to be able t.<: describe her. I had other things to think of just then." "Sure enough. What was >ht do inifV" "Getting- a draft cashed, I pre sumed." "Where would that draft be now?" "In the possession of the issuing bank, and probably cancelled long since. It couldn't be traced or identified. We've been over all that." "Of course; but I was hoping we might stumble upon something tiiat had been overlooked. May I use the 'phone?" "Certainly." Griffin shut himself into the 'phone-box and called up the wharf master's office on the levee. "Ilello! Is this Kobertson? Ray, Dick, where is the Belle Julie njw? Up-river, you say? All right; I ain eo/r.iug down to get you to wire Capt. Mayfield for me." The "wire" sent a littlo later from the wharf-master's office asked for a list of the Belle Julie's lady pas sengers on that voyage which began on the day of the robbery. GrjtTin was not above swearing a little when the answer came. It was a string of twenty-odd names, and to have speech with these twenty-odd women meant weeks of continuous travel for the detective. That being the next move in the game, however, he set about making it methodically, beginning with those most accessible, and working through the list from name to name; and at the end of weeks he had interviewed every woman on the list save two. These two lived in a small inland city in Minnesota, and when he turned his face northward to try the final cast of the die he was weary enough to be disheart ened, if disheartenment had been admissible. It, was evening when he reached Wahaska, and since it was too late to do anything he promised himself that he would smoke but a single cigar and goto bed. But when the cigar was alight he left the hotel to smoke it fn the open. There was an unusual stir in the streets, and a question asked of a chance passer-by evoked the reason. The new Grier son opera house was to be opened that night by a company imported from Chicago for the occasion, and everybody was going to the theater [To Be Continued.] THAT SETTLED HIM. A S<n trnnin ii*m Happy Met hod of Dis posing of Troublesome rint'c Hunters. A celebrated statesman had a liappy way of ridding' himself of applicants for diplomatic and other posts. The son of an old friend called upon him one day to bespeak his influence in getting him an important embassy, relates London Tit-Bits. "Mr. F ," said the minister, mo tioning his visitor to a chair, "I am glad you called." "Thank you, my lord." "You are one of the few people to whom I feel under obligation." "It's very good of you to say so. J called to see—" "It is an obligation which T feel deep ly, and which I always hope to feel." "Perhaps you exaggerate," the hope ful visitor said, in an effort to be mod est. "Xo; I don't. You are one of the few people of my acquaintance who nevei asked me for an appointment." And the applicant was so embar rassed that in a few moments he took his hat and left. Humor of Major Yennble. Maj. Bichard M. Venable, of Balti more, is one of the leading lawyers of the south, and one of the most distinguished lecturers on law in Maryland. He is a Virginian who went to Baltimore after the war, and who has become identified with the city. In the recent reform move ment, which won, and which saved the people a great deal of money, lie was elected to one of the most re sponsible positions in the municipal legislature, the presidency of tlin council branch which had to do with the budget. There is probably no keener wit in the whole country. He has the dry, solemn manner which ac centuates his points, and some of his puns have, become famous. For instance, after u trip to England and Egypt he was speaking of the things that impressed him in both coun tries—in one, of fields and flowers; in the other, the rows of preserved bodies. "Indeed," he said, very sober ly, "the mummies of Egypt Seemed to be almost as numerous as the pop pies of England."—Harper's Weekly. A Medieval Snrvlvnl. The inhabitants of a far-away vil lage in Surrey have been enjoying a quaint medieval survival in the sale by auction of a local meadow. Long ago, when the world was not so busy as it is to-day, the landlord of the "White Brown Meadow" at Bourne bequeathed the meadow subject to an auction sale which every now and again adds to the gayety of this rural population. At each bid a boy sets out to run ton given point, and the "White Brown Meadow" is let to the bidder whose offer is unchal lenged when the last boy returns. Equally curious is the candle-light auction at Wharton in Warwickshire, where the rig-lit of grazing upon the roadside and the common lands is sold each year to the men who blda highest before the last flicker of a candle dies away. As the tallow candle burns away the Lidding be gins, and the road-surveyor, who nets as auctioneer, encourages the bidder* with such phrases as "(let oil, gen tlemen, please; the light's burning." —St. .lames' (iuzette. \«-LN II liorl Y I. HYP. No man on earth can love hi* neighbor as himself if he has a gar deu and the aforesaid neighbor keens chickens. ( hiciufo ikuilv New . DURABILITY OF WOODS. SclenUflc Experiment* from llif lie lulu of Which Many ('radical Reason* May lie Lrurncd. Experiments have been lately made by driving sticks, made of different woods, each two feet long and one and one-half inches square, into the ground, only one-half an inch project ing outward. It was found that in five years all those made of oak, elm, ash, fir, soft mahogany, and nearly every varioty of pine, were totally rotten. Larch, hard pine and teak wood were decayed 011 the outside only; while acacia, with the exception of being also slightly attacked 011 the exterior, was otherwise sound. Hard mahogany and cedar of Lebanon were in tolerably good condition; Virginia ce dar was found as good as when putin the ground. This is of some impor tance to builders, showing what woods should be avoided and what others used by preference in underground work. The duration of wood when kept drj" is very great, as beams still exist which are known to be nearly 1,100 years old. I'iies driven by the Itomans prior to the Christ ian era have been examined of late and found to be perfectly sound after an immersion of nearly 2,000 years. The wood of some tools will last longer than the metals, as in spades, hoes ami plows. In other tools the wood is first gone, as in wag ons, wheelbarrows and machines. Such wood should be painted or oiled; the paint not only looks well, but pre serves the wood. Petroleum oil is as good as any other. Hardwood stumps decay r in five or six years,' spruce stumps decay in about the same time, hemlock stumps in eight to nine years, cedar eight to nine years, pine stump.-: never. Cedar, oak, yellow pine and chestnut are the, most durable woods in dry places.—Boston Budget. Some Facts About Mom. A familiar belief is that moss grows chiefly on the north side of trees. The notion is not established by science, and an examination of many trees has shown Prof. Henry Kraemer, a Phila delphia botanist, that ten per cent, had the moss on the west side, ten per cent, on the northwest side, ten per cent, on the north side, 20 per cent, on the northeast side. 35 per cent, on the east side, and 15 per cent, on the southeast side. FLAT-ROOFED MOUSE FOR NARROW LOT ErjaMrE perspective view and floor plans This house as here shown ear. be erected II as here showr. represent plans ar.d dc- In most locations for about $1,200. signs for a very r.i-at. attractive and The floors throughout are of hard N. O. low priced Hat-roof dwelling house, suit- pine flooring boards, tir.ely tongued ar.d able for a narrow lot. grooved. ''^7' * * Jr* * '**• J V", - "V - <SV , v j L^. <>■■,, 7 kM A LOW-PRICED HOUSE FOU XARIIOW TOWN LOT. Ther? Is a cellar under the entire hous* | The walls are all plastered with patent built of brick walls, with ceniLiit lloors, ; plaster white finish. . etc., complete. All of the trim throughout Is of cypress, The entire frame is built of hemlock tim- I finished in the natural wood, with oiu gouU rr J '3 pantwyS | CL ° S | KITCHEN L_J BEDROOM | | 10'0'xl I'o | BfUROOM i H n, I I DIN INQ ROOM | CLOS I 1 hAiuJJ ina -n ***** H KsaS ' w *V // veranda /' / fcOWIDE Izl Z_ "" M SECONOFLOOR PLAN FiRST FLOOR PLAN b rari! unktl I >n*pl#t«, wlliilwtM Mil . n 11 rs and two good ooata ol •Uied. |i ip< r«<t and shlnglnd as *ho«n In Interior varnish. ih<- ph I' >- 'or ihl- 1 hi •• are Tlu ti.ili root I covertd with tin, a#. , u b> St.u.ii :• A I* unU, architect, ol Veieh I ami "l<sl. |aw Uro if, Kcw Vorfc city. ROTARY CONCRETE MIXZR. Deal Kited to Replnre (hp It 1,1 Iky and Clumsy MISIIIK Hoards >nvv iu General I ic, VVJiile the apparatus shown below may look a little like a cannon, it is intended for the more peaceful service of laying and repairing- street pave ments. With the machine concrete can be mixed rapidly and discharged at intervals as needed, the feeding of the material and rotation of ilio mixer not intereferingin any way \\ ith the delivery. As will be seen, a rotary drum i* mounted 011 rollers on a sup porting carriage, with a discharge out let at one end and a charging opening at the other. The stone, cement and ,v ID ■ v, :: if: 1 , rj'i, - IMPROVED CONCRETE MIXEK. water are fed into the hopper at the rear end as tlie-drum is revolved, power being obtained either from a electric motor connected to the trolley wire or from a steam engine. As the mate rial becomes thoroughly mixed and ready for discharge the pivoted beam on which the drum rests is tilted for ward. without interfering with the rotation of the mixer, which then de livers a portion of its contents into a barrow set beneath the mouth, to be wheeled to the exact spot where it is needed in preparing the roadway, or by keeping the machine in close touch with the workmen the concrete may be delivered direct to the road bed without further handling. As the machine can be built with a large ca pacity and is thorough in its work it will probably be found more econom ical in use than the flat mixing boards on which the concrete is now com monly mixed with hoes in the handa of laborers. William J. Judd, of New York city, is the patentee.—Louisville Courier-Journal. Conking ItcilaooN Men! Hulk. Meat in cooking loses much of its bulk from evaporation small pieces more than large. In late experi ments a pound piece of lean beef lost 45.0 per cent, in weight, but a five pound piece was reduced only 30.8 per cent. Loss in nutrition was mueli less than this would indicate.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers