6
THE FIRST JOURNEY.
A silent pilgrim, I was borne
Hither unto ttils port of I,lfe:
TJnfrighted, lone, and yet unworn
By any sense of stir or strife—
I anchored at the I'ort of Life.
Unknowing, hitherwarri I came!
Unknowing all I crossed the bar
Where life burst round me like a flower
And one face shone, sweet, like a star.
And one, a graver, sterner star.
A pilgrim here I nothing brought
Save my white, child, unspotted soul.
Brought nothing! 'twas as If God thought
A pilgrim, without scrip or stole—
That were enough:—* pure, child soul!
Came nothing bringing—land nor gold—
Save the Immortal gift of X,ove:
Haply my baby hand could hold
That holiest hest sent from above
With Joy, the sister twin to Love.
"Were It too much for me to ask
Some note of life—its hopes and fears—
To tit me for my coming task
When wandering through the crowding
years?
Who was it gave the gift of tears?
Not angols: not In my own heaven
Are found the deeps whence tears may
flow:
Only to mortals Is It given
To sound the breaking note of woe;
Nor do wo take It when we go!
Ixinely and far I came, yet near;
The wonder was to be alone—
Till light shone round me, comfort, cheer:
Then Life's lirst sounds, a laugh—a
moan—
\ And then, O strange, a cry!—mine own.
They asked me naught, but took me In,
Kind hands were there—then food and
rest
It was as if It bad always been,
Nor did they ask me of my quest—
The welcome was!—l was the guest!
—Millie W. Carpenter, in Springfield
(Mass.) Republican.
A Daughter 1
of the Sioux I
i By GEN. CHARLES KING. I
Copyright, lto2, by The Hohart Company.
CHAPTKB XXIV.—CONTINUED.
A woeful time, it seems, they had
had with poor Nanette when at last
it became necessary to take her
away from her dead brave. She
raged and raved at even her pleading
aunt. Defiant of them all, from the
general down, and reckless of law or
fact, she vowed it was all a con
spiracy to murder Moreau in cold
blood. They gave him the knife, she
declared, although it later developed
that she had tossed it through the
open window. They had given him
the chance to escape—the sight of
Kennedy, "who had striven to kill him
twice before," and then of the black
smiths, with their degrading shackles
—all just to tempt him to make a
dash for freedom —just as they had
lured and murdered Crazy Horse —
Crazy Horse, his brave kinsman, not
ten years before —then had placed a
dead shot on the path to life and
liberty—a man who killed him in
cold blood, as deliberately planned.
These were her accusations, anil that
story took strong hold in certain
circles in the far east.
Nanette said many other things
before her final breakdown; and Hay
and his sorrowing wife found their
load of care far heaviest, for the
strain of Indian blood, now known
to all, had steeled the soul of the
girl against the people at Fort
Krayne, men and women both.
Against none so vehemently as those
who would have shown her sym
pathy, none so malignantly as those
who had suffered for her sake.
This was especially true of Field.
In the mad hope of "getting jus
tice," as she termed it, for the dead,
she had demanded speech of the gen
eral, and, in presence of "Black Bill"
and the surgeon, he had given her a
hearing, it proved fatal to her cause,
for in her fury at what she termed
"the triumph of his foes," she lost
all sense of right or reason, and de
clared that it was Field who had
warned Stabber's band and sent them
fleeing to unite with Lame Wolf—
Field who took the trader's horses
and rode by night with Kennedy to
warn them it was Webb's intention
to surround the village at dawn and
xnakc prisoners of the men. It was
field, she said, who furnished the
money Moreau needed to establish
his claim to a gold mine in the Ulack
Hills, the ownership of which would
make them rich and repay Field a
dozen times over. It was Field who
sought to protect her kindred among
the Sioux in hopes, she said it boldly,
of winning her. But the general had
heard enough. The door was opened
anil Hay and Illake were ushered in.
The former briefly told of the find
ing of her note in Field's room the
night the adjutant was so mysteri
ously missing. The note itself was
held forth by the inspector general
and she was asked if she cared to
have it opened and read aloud. Iler
apswer was that Field was a coward,
a dastard to betray a woman who
ibad trusted him.
"Oil, lie didn't," said Blake dryly.
"Twas just, the other way. lie
couldn't be induced to open his head,
so his friends took a hand. You got
word of the outbreak through your
Indian followers. You wrote to
iField and sent the note by Pete, bid
<ling him join you at that godless
.hour, telling him that you would pro
vide the horses and that you must
ride to Stabber's camp to see Moreau
tor the last time, aa he was going at
once to tin- Black Hills. Yon made
Field belie* e lie was your half
brother, instead of what lie was.
You brought Moreau back to the post
and took something, 1 can't say
what, down to him from Mr. Hay's—
he waiting for you on the flats be
low the trader's corral. You should
have worn your moccasins, as well as
a divided skirt, that night instead of
French-heeled bottines. The rest—
others can tell."
The others were Kennedy, and the
recaptured, half recalcitrant Pete,
the latter turned state's evidence.
Kennedy told how he had wandered
down into the flats after"the few
dhrinks" that made him think scorn
ful of Sioux; of his encounter with
Kagle Wing, his rescue by Field and
a girl who spoke Sioux like a-native,
lie thought it was little Fawn Kyes
when he heard her speak, and until
he heard this lady; then lie under
stood. lie bad been pledged to se
crecy by the lieutenant, and never
meant to tell a soul, but when he
heard the lie the lady told about the
lieutenant, it ended any promise.
Then Pete, an abject, whining
wretch, was ushered in, and his story,
when dragged out by the roots was
worst of all. Poor Mrs. Hay! She
had to hear it, for they sent for
her; somebody had to restrain Na
nette. Pete said he had "known Na
nette long time, ever since baby.
So had Crapaud. Yes, and they had
known Eagle Wing, Moreau, always—
knew liis father and mother. Knew
Nanette's father and mother." But
Black Bill interposed. No need togo
into these particulars, as substan
tiating Mrs. Hay and himself, said he.
"The lady knows perfectly well that
I know all about her* girlhood," so
Pete returned to modern history.
Eagle Wing, it seems, came riding
often in from Stabber's camp to see
Nanette by night, and"he was in
heap trouble, always heap trouble,
always want money," and one night
she told Pete lie must come with her,
must never tell of it. She had money,
she said, her own, in the trader's
safe, but the door was too heavy, she
couldn't open 2t, even though she had
the key. She had opened the store
by the back door, then came to him
to help her with the rest. He pulled
the safe door open, he said, and then
she hunted and found two big letters,
and took them to the house, and next
night she opened the store again, and
he pulled open the safe, and she put
back the letters and sent him to Mr.
Field's back door with note, and then
over to saddle Harney and Dan, and
"bring 'em out back way from sta
ble." Then later she told him ( apt.
Blake had Eagle Wing's buckskin
pouch and letters, and they must get
them or somebody would hang Kagle
Wing, and she kept them going, "all
time going," meeting messengers
from the Sioux camps, or carrying
letters. She fixed everything for the
Sioux to come anil capture Hay and
the wagon—fixed everything even 4o
nearly murdering the sentry on Num
ber Six. Pete and Spotted Horse, a
young brave of Stabber's band, had
compassed that attempted rescue.
She would have them kill the sentry
if need be, and the reason they didn't
get Wing away was that she couldn't
wait until the sentries had called off.
They might even then have succeed
ed, only her pony broke away, and
she clung to Kagle Wing's until he—
he had to hit her to make her let go.
The wild girl, in a fury declared it
false from end to end. The poor
woman, weeping by her side, bowed
lier head and declared it doubtless
true.
Her story —Mrs. Hay's—was sad
dest of all. Her own father died
when she was very, very young. He
was a French Canadian trader and
traveler who had left them fairly
well to do. Next to her Indian
mother, Mrs. Hay had loved no soul
on earth as she had her pretty baby
sister. The girls grew up together.
The younger, petted and spoiled, fell
in love with a handsome, reckless
young French half breed, Jean La
Fleur; against all warnings, became
bis wife, and was soon bullied, beaten
and deserted. She lived but a little
while, leaving to her more prosperous
and level-headed sister, now wedded
to Mr. Hay, their baby daughter, also
named Nanette, and by her the
worthy couple had done their very
best. Perhaps it would have been
wiser had they sent the child away
from all association with the Sioux,
but she had lived eight years on the
Laramie in daily contact with them,
sharing the Indian sports and games,
loving their free life, and rebelled
furiously when finally taken East.
"She" was the real reason why her
aunt spent so many months of each
succeeding year away from her hus
band and the frontier. One of the
girl's playmates was a magnificent
•young savage, a son of Crow Killer,
the famous chief. The father was
killed the day of Crazy Horse's fierce
assault on the starving force of Gen.
Crook at Slim Buttes in '7O, and good,
kind missionary people speedily saw
promise in the lad, put him at school
and strove to educate him. The rest
they knew. Sometimes at Eastern
schools, sometimes with Buffalo Bill,
but generally out of money and into
mischief, Eagle Wing went from one
year to another, and Nanette, fool
ishly permitted to meet him again
in the East, had become infatuated.
All that art and education, wealth,
travel and luxury combined could do,
was done to wean her from her pas
sionate adoration of this superb
young savage. There is 110 fiercer,
more intense, devotion than that the
Sioux girl gives the warrior who wins
her love. She becomes his abject
slave. She will labor, lie,..steal, sin,
suffer, die, gladly die for him, if only
she believes herself loved in turn,
and this did Nanette more than be
lieve, and believing, Slaved and
studied between his irregular appear
ances that she might wheedle more
money from her aunt to lavish on her
brave. When discovered meeting him
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1903.
in secret and by night, she was locked
in her third story room and thought
secure, until the day revealed her
gone by way of the lightning rod.
They had to resort to more stringent
measures, but time und again she met
him, undetected until too late, and
when at last her education was de
clared complete, had amazed her
aunt by expressing willingness togo
to Frayne, when the good woman
thought the objectionable kinsman
abroad with Buffalo Bill. Until too
late, Mrs. Hay knew nothing of his
having been discharged and of his
preceding them to the west. Then
Nanette begged her for more money,
because he was in dreadful trouble—
had stabbed a police officer at
Omaha, whose people, so Moreau
said, agreed not to prosecute him if
if one thousand dollars could be paid
at once. Hay's patience had been
exhausted. He had lirmly refused to
contribute another cent to settle
Moreau's scrapes, even though he
was a distant kinsman of his wife,
and they both were fond of his little
sister Fawn Eyes. It had never oc
curred to Mrs. Hay that Nan could
"ALONE ON THE LOFTY HEIGHT,
ALONE IN THE WINTRY WILDER
NESS, SOBBING OUT HER GRIEF
SONG TO THE SLEEPING WINDS."
steal from or plot against licr bene
factors. but that was before sh»*
dreamed that Nanette had bceom*.
the Indian's wife. After that any
thing might happen. "If she could
do that for love of Moreau," said she,
"there was nothing she could not
do."
And it would seem there was little
short of deliberate murder she had
not done for her Sioux lover, who
had rewarded her utter self sacrifice
by a savage blow with a revolver
butt. "Poor Nanette!" sobbed Mrs.
Hay, and "Po.or Nanette!" said all
Fort Frayne, their distrust of her
buried and forgotten as she lay, re
fusing herself to every one; starv
ing herself in dull, desperate misery
in her lonely room. Even grim old
"Black Bill" whom she had recog
nized at once—Bill who had been the
first to confirm Blake's suspicions as
to her identity—had pity and coin
passion for her. "It's the way of the
blood," said Blake. "She is
'Bred out of that bloody strain
That haunted us In our familiar paths.' "
"She could do no different," said
the general, "having fixed her love
on him. It's the strain of the Sioux.
We call her conduct criminal—they
call it sublime."
And one night, while decision in
Nanette's case was still pending, and,
still self-secluded, she hid within the
trader's home, refusing speech with
any one but little Fawn Eyes, a
sleighing party set out from Frayne
for a spin by moonlight along the
frozen Platte. Wagon bodies had been
set on runners, and piled with hay.
The young people from officers' row,
with the proper allowance of patrons
and elders, were stowed therein, and
tucked in robes and furs, Esther
Dade among them, gentle and re
sponsive as ever, yet still very silent.
Field, in his deep mourning went no
where. 11c seemed humiliated beyond
words by his connection with this
most painful affair. Even the gen
eral failed to cheer and reassure
him. He blamed himself for every
thing and shrank, even from his
friends. They saw the dim glow of
the student lamp in liis quarters, as
they jingled cheerily away. They were
coming homeward, toward ten
o'clock. The moon was shining bril
liantly along the bold heights of the
southern bank, and insensibly, chat
and laughter gradually ceased as they
came again in fight of the twinkling
lights of Frayne, and glanced alaft
at a new-made scaffolding, standing
black against tJie sky at the crest
of Fetterman Bluff. "Eagle Wing
roosts high," said a thoughtless
youngster. "The general let them
have' their wrv to the last. What's
theft ?" lie added, with sudden stop.
"The sleigh had as suddenly been
feined in. The. driver, an Irish troop
er, crossed himself, for, on the hit*>b
of the breathless winter night, there
rose and fell—shrill, quavering, now
high, now low, in mournful minor, a
weir.3, desolate, despairing chant, the
voice <>f the heart-broken Woman, and
one and all knew at once it Was Na
nette, after the manner of her moth
er's people, alone on the lofty height,
alone in the wintry wilderness,
sobbing out, her grief song to the
sleeping winds, mourning to the lust
her lost, her passionately loved
brave.
Then, all on a sudden, it ceased. A
black form started from under the
scaffolding to the edge of the bluL.
Then again, weird, wild, uncanny, a
barbaric, almost savage strain burst
from the lips of the girl. "Mother
of lleavin!" cried the driver. "Can no
one shtop that awful keen. It's her
death soinr she's sinjria'l"
Two yoaug officers sprang from the
sleigh, but at the instant another «ry
arose. Another form, this one of
horse and rider, appeared at the crest,
silhouetted with the girl's against the
stars. They saw the rider leap from
saddle, almost within arms' length of
the singer; saw her quickly turn, as
though, for the first time, aware of
an intruder. Then the wailing song
went or.tin sudden scream of mingled
wrath, hatred and despair, and, like
the Sioux that she was at heart, the
girl made ftne mad rush to reach the
point of bluff where was a sheer de
scent of over 80 feet. A shriek of
dread went up from the crowded
sleigh; a cry of rejoicing, as the in
truder sprang and clasped her, pre
venting her reaching the precipice.
But almost instantly followed a moan
of anguish, for slipping at the crest,
together, firmly linked, they came
rolling, sliding, shooting down the
steep incline of the frozen bluff, and
brought up with stunning force
among the Icy blocks, logs and drift
wood at the base.
They bore them swiftly homeward
—Field senseless anil sorely shaken—■
Nanette's fierce spirit slowly drifting
away from the bruised and broken
tenement held there, so pityingly, in
the arms of Esther Dade. Before the
Christmas fires were lighted in the
snowbound, frontier fort, they had
laid all that was mortal of the brave,
deluded tfirl in the little cemetery of
Fort Frayne, her solemn story closed,
on earth, forever.
[To He Continued !
HE STUDIED HIS PUPILS.
Why Ilr. Tli rl nit tVnn One of Fn*.
In ml'* >loHt Successful Teach
ers of Hoys.
pr. Edward Thring, next to Arnold
of Rugby, was considered to be the
most successful teacher of boys in
England. The duller the lad, the
more eager was Dr. Thring to take
him in hand and develop him.
On one occasion a despairing father
brought his son to him.
"John must do everything his own
way," he said. "He opposes his
teachers, his schoolfellows, me, in
everything. He will not take it for
granted that twice two are four unti!
he has counted for himself."
"John is in for more hopeful condi
tion than the amiable boy who al
ways goes with the crowd," said the
shrewd teacher, "provided he ha.s
common sense enough to find out
some time that lie is not infallible."
After two years the father went
again to Dr. Thring.
"What miracle hove you worked
upon John?" he asked. "He is hap
py. affectionate and sensible."
"I taught him how to lead, and suf
fered him to be a leader," was the re
ply. "Boys are like sheep. One finds
a path, the others follow. The mas
terful, strong boy can be trained
into a wise captain, is the weak
lad who always copies his fellows
that is not worth drilfinj."
The theory of this f;ynous teacher
is more worthy of attiihtion because
education too often trfaffc boys and
girls in the mass, neglecting indi
vidual development. Dr. Thring, by
careful attention to boys of peculiar
character, has given to the England
of to-day some of its most useful
men.
Hospitable i'nt.
A certain sportsman took a shoot
ing in Ireland. He was assured that
it was a good sporting territory.
When he arrived this was corrobo
rated by the head keeper, a typical
Paddy. The latter declared that the
country fairly bristled with pheas
ants. So they went out after
and in a day put ;:p five. Tli*. next
day the tenant after part
ridges and was told the same tale;
the shoot yielded about six. Wood
cock, grouse, capercailzie, every kind
of game, Paddy told "his 'onner"
were as thick as leaves in autumn,
but they could not be found. At last
he said angrily: "Are there many
rhinoceroses on the estate?" "Shure,
yer 'onner," drawled l'at very slow
ly, "not many, not many," but bright
ening up, "you may put up two or
three round the lake in the summer."
Long before the summer, of course,
the tenancy would be at an end.
''You confounded rascal." roared tho
tenant, "what do you mean by telling
me all these lies?" "Shure," said Pat
with a true Hibernian grin, "an'
would't I be givin' yer 'onner a pleas
ant answer?" —London Tatler.
Chained lint Harmless.
A Londoner, just arrived at, a
Scottish town, and on his way to a
hotel, addressed the porter who led
the way: "Not a large place this?"
"No verra," was the answer. Next
question came: "Has it a corpora
tion?" "A what, sir?" inquired the
baggage bearer. "I mean, who rules
it?" "Rules it? Jlst the Provost."
"Ah, the Provost. Like our Lord
Mayor? Has he got any insignia?"
remarked the. cockney. "Insignia!
What d'ye mean?" quoth the puzzled
Scotsman. "Yes, insignia; that is to
say, has he a chain?" the polite
visitor hinted. Whereupon the al
most dumbfounded native gasped
out: "A chain, sir? The l'rov/ist
chained? Xa, na! He ganj*s loose;
but dinna be feared, he's quite harm
less."—St. James Gazette.
Wcnlfter Prophets.
In the reign of Henry VIII. a proe
Inmution was issued against almanac
makers encouraging the belief in
saints ruling the weather. Notwith
standing this and similar efforts to
explode a piJpular notion, certain
saints' days are, however, still sup
posed to assist in what may be called
long-distance forecasts. St. Cathar
ine, whose festival falls on Novem
ber 25, is such a saint, for "as at
Catharine, foul or fair, so will Its the
next FcbruiU'J." —Detroit Free Fre»*
Which?
The president had an informal reception
in his office recently and a number of visitor*
were presented to him. One lady introduced
herself as from Jacksonville, Fla and said:
"Mr. President, 1 have come all this way
just to nee you. I have never s*en a live
president before." -Mr. Roosevelt seemed
much amused. "Well, well," he said. "1
hope you don't feel disappointment now that
you have seen one. Lots of people in the>e
part* go all the way to Jacksonville to see
a live ajligator. 1 wonder which kind of a
tourist feel* 'He most «old "
DBTHSAIDA.
A Tale of the Time of (lie Caraara-By
Malcolm Dearliurn, Author
of "Lionel Arilon."
This story covers an interesting period,
that of the brutal Tiberius Caesar and the
trial and death of Christ. There are two
scenes in which the .Saviour figures, as he
is being led to execution, and tne effect his
presence produces on the two chief j>er
•onages of the story is graphically described.
The hero, Aristarchus, is a Roman noble
of great wealth. His father, Petromus, has
been doomed to death by order of Augustus
Caesar, whom he had unintentionally of
; fended. On his last night on earth, while
I'etronius was looking from the roof of his
palace, he witnessed a strange light in the
heavens. It rose, paused, vibrated, then
slowly disappeared in its course towards
Syria.
While he was still gazing at it, a slave ap
proaches and announces to him the birth of
a son. The Roman marvels, and at once as
sociates the wondrous light in the heavens
with the birth of his son. The light, of
course, was the star of Bethlehem, pro
claiming the birth of Christ, whose influence
oyer Pctroniua' son makes up the main in
cidents of the story. That night I'etronius
dies by his own hand to avoid the ignomin
ious death planned for him by Augustus.
Aristarchus, grown to manhood, becomes
disgusted with the materialism and vapid
luxury of Rome, and is, moreover, involved
in a quarrel witn Tiberius during one of the
latter * drunken orgies. He Hies Rome, and
turns Eastward in his course. There he
learns of the strange fame of the "N»za
rene," whom be forwith desires to see. His
wish is granted by a sight of Jesus as he is
being led to execution. The effect upon the
Roman is intense; its revolutionizes his
■whole life.
The horoine, Bethsaida, who gives name
to the story, ts a maiden of humble birth, but
of strange character and commanding beau
j ty. Her father has trained her to be a danc
t ing pirl at the court of Pilate. She, too, fees
I Christ as he is being led to death, and the
j effect wrought causes her to plan a flight
j from the influence of Pilate and his court.
| Chance brings about a meeting between her
and Aristarchus, and their mutual expe
riences in the encounter with Christ form a
I bond between the strangely assorted pair,
| whose training and environment had teen
so foreign to one another.
The alternate bursts of tyranny and kindli
ness that distinguish Pilate, whose love for
his wife, Claudia, despite his infidelity to
her, is his one saving trait, make an engag
• ing study. Claudia herself will, doubtless,
; appeal to many readers as the most loveable
i character in the book. Her justice, religious
sympathy and devotion are well depicted.
The tone of the book is that o unquestion
ing belief in the miraculous birth and mis
sion of Christ.
Handsomely bound in Cloth, 12m0., $1.50.
Published by the G. W. Diliinguaui com
, pauy, New \ ork.
111 M ( In nm I Hon 11 on.
"Tell me what you eat," said the wiw
guy, "and I'll tell yon what vou ar#."
"Rati!" ejaculated the scoffer.
"Ah!" retored the w. g. "According to
the dope book you are a Chinaman." —Chi-
cago Daily News.
Low ltnte Excursions
On the lirst and third Tuesdays cf each
month to Texas, Indian and Oklahoma Ter
ritories via M., K. & T. Ry. Take advantage
of the opportunity offered and see the Great
Southwest in all its glory. "Texas," "Busi
ness Chances," "Indian Territory" and other
booklets, brimful of information, will be sent
on receipt of two-cent stamp to prepay post
age. Address, George Morton, G. P. &: T.
A, M., K. & T. Ry., Suite <j, Th# Wain
wrijjht, St. Louis. Mo.
Pointed Query.
She —I might have married a foreign noble
man!
ILe—That so —who did pay kis debts J
Judge.
T» Cure «i Colli in Out Day.
Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. All
druggists refund money if it fails to cure. 25c.
Caller —"Is the man of the bouse in?"
Maid —"Yes, but the woman of tbe house
won't let him come out."—San Francisco
Wasp.
The Chicago £ North-Western is the only
double track railway between Chicago afld
the Missouri River.
Beware of threats! l'eople may not pay
any attention to them, and then you aielelt
ill an embarrassing position.—Puck.
I am sure Piso's Cure for Consumption
saved my life three years ago. —Mrs. Thos.
Robbine, Norwich, N. Y., Feb. 17, 1900.
There are so many disagreeable people
who simply won't heap coais of tire on our
heads.—Puck.
The Overland Limited, solid train Chi
cago to the Coast daily. Chicago, Union
Pacific & North-Western Line.
Chronic complaining doesn't make a hard
lot any softer.
To accept good advice is but to increaw
c>ne's own ability.—Goethe.
For each big man at the top there are a
million iittle ones at the bottom.
Never judge the weather by the predic
tions of a prophet.—Chicago Daily News.
It is economy to be truthful. It pays.
It is dignified. It may offend a few to
refuse information desired, but it will of
fend more to pervert verity.—Chicago In
ter Oceun.
Wife- —"I have been thinking I ought to
give you a birthday present, Harold. Hus
band- -"Oh, very well, .hist write-down what
it shall be and I'll buy it on my way uptown."
—Town Topics.
When little Miss Canada picks up her A.
B. C. she flies into a dreadful passion. It
may be recalled that A. B. C. stand for
Alaska Boundary Commission.—Cleveland
Plain Dealw.
Hutler —"I know that butcher acts rather
queerly at times, but the doctor saj she is in
full control of his mental faculties.' Baker —
"Ye*, but that cannot call for much of an
effort, you know."—Boston Transcript.
At r.«. Nexdore—"l guess you heard my
daughter practising to-day. The music
teacner was there to-dav; she's taking les
sons by the quarter—" Mrs. Pepprey—"ln
deed? 1 thought it was by the pound."—
Philadelphia Press.
Auntie —"Do you know you are playing
with two very naughty little boys, Johnny?
Johnny—"Yes." Auntie—"You do? I'm
surprised. Why don't you play with good
little boys?" Johnny—"Because their
mother* won't let them!" —Punch.
More lllfo r nut 11 on Wnateil.
He —Could you love me if I lost all my
money ?
She-—How much have you to lose?— Stray
Stories.
IVothlns More to lie Said.
Miss Marks —Does she patronize auction®?
Mrs. Down—Does She? Why. she -■ "lif
buy eggs at one. —Stray Stories.
ident Milwaukee, Wis., Business
Woman's Association, is another
one of the million women who
have been restored to health by
i using Lydia E. Pinkham's Vege
table Compound.
" Drar Mns. Pinkitam : I was mar
| rled for several years and no children
blessed my home. The doctor said I
. had a complication of female troubles
and I could not have any children un
less I could be cured. Ho tried to cure
me, but after experimenting 1 for sev
eral months, my husband became dis
jjusted, and one night when we noticed
the testimonial of a woman who had
been cured of similar trouble through
the use of Lydia K. Pinkham's
Vegetable Compound, he went out
and bought a bottle for ine. I used
your medicine for three and one-half
months, improving steadily in health,
and in twonty-two months a child
I camo. I cannot fully express the joy
and thankfulness that is in my heart.
| Our home is a different place now, as
j we have something to live for, and
j all the credit is due to Lydia
E. Pinkham's Vogetablo Com
pound. Yours very sincerely, Mrs.
! L. G. Glover, 614 Grove St., Milwaukee,
Wis." Vice President, Milwaukee
Business Woman's Association. SSOOO
ftrfgit if original of above letter proving genuine
■«* cannot produced.
. J S
THE WRONG Si MILE.
Tkm 1* In the Cniir of a Yonag
I.(Mljr Who Wu» m Scale
Breaker.
He kneels at the feet of the heiress.
Now, in order to make plain what is to fol
low, let us state that the heLress weighs 3(X
pounds, says Judge. True love, however, w«
will concede for trie sake of argument, knowi
»o waist-lines. And no woman is ever so fal
ss her fortune. Therefore, to proceed,
messieurs.
He kneels, as we have previously said, a*
the feet of the heiress.
"You are ail the world to me!" he ex>
claims.
"What?" she pants. "You wnetch! art
you aware of the fact that the equator is th«
largest diameter of the world?"
lu vam doe# he argue that the equator '.s &■
imaginary line. This only makes it worse.
Metaphorically, she sits down on him]
metaphorically. he is crushed.
At the China Shop.—Superintendent—
"We are likely to have "ms-k sale of china«
ware this year, Mr. Tiler." Floorwalker—
"What makes you think that?" .Superin
tendent —"1 seo it slated that long flowing
lileeves are coining into fashion." —Boston
Transcript.
I>»llT Throneh V>rvlo« to California
via Missouri Pnoittc Kail way and Iron Moun
tain Route. Choice of Central route through
Colorado or via »h« Trua Southern Kouts
through Texas, Arizona, etc. Through
sleeper to Los Angeles. Only line operating
through sleeping ears, St. Louia to San
Francisoo. Tourist car service to California
four dnys in the week. For rates and full
information address nay agent of Missouri
Faoifto Railway, or Iron Mountain Route,
•r li. C. Towsshni), Gsieral Fassengef
and Ticket Agent. St. Louis.
"Yes, if I do say it," said the conceited
fellow, "she's crazy for me." "How untiecea
>ary," remarked Miss Sharpe, "you don't re
quire any assistance in tuat direction."—
Philadelphia Press.
Money refunded for each package ol
Putnam Fadeless Dyes if unsatisfactory.
Editor—"Tiiere isn't an idea in this story
of yours." Great Author—"l couldn't afford
to sell it to you if there was."—Life.
Tho Shortcut Way
out of an attack of
Rheumatism
£ Neuralgia
Is to usa
St Jacobs Oil
Which affords not only sure relief,
but a prompt cure. It soothes,
subdues, and ends tho suffering.
Prico, 25c. and 50c.
«■ ■i
REpTine
Ww \itw-
PLEASANT
THE NEXT MORNING I FEEL BRIGHT AND NEW
AND MY COMPLEXION IS BE'.TER.
My doctor Bays it acta Rently on tho atomach, live*
ami kidney* and ia a uleauant laxative. Tbta drink ia
made from h»»ri»«, and in prepared for uso aa euilj aa
tea. It ia called "Lane's Tea'* or
LANE'S FAMILY MEDICINE
All druirffiataorbj mail2s ct*. and 50 eta. Buy it to
day. l.ane'N Family Medicine moves the
bowels earlt day. In ttrder to be healthy tlualß
BtiMaatry. Adtlrww, Bu* «OC». La Roy, N, Y,