6 WHEN HE COMES HOME. When ho comes liomc, the who lias grown To be a man, and claim a estate, I listening stand beside the gate alone, And for his welcome footsteps silent wait. Through evening shades 1 am the tirst to see His well-loved form, that Joyous draws more near, As on the breezes softly come* to me Ills greeting, full of tenderness and elieer. When he comes home, I level in the past. While for the future still 1 hope and pray. His hands hold mine in such a loving clasp, Though leading I atn led; our footsteps stray To old familiar paths where little feet Beside my own so long ago did roam The while his lingers gathered blossoms sweet. We live it o'er again when >je comes home. When he comes home my Ixiby, hoy, and man— My crown of motherhood glows won drous bright; Lit by the moon's pale beams his face 1 scan. To know that everything has gone aright. Wo, reverent, how our head* together here. Beneath the boundless scope of heaven's dome, And offer thanks for such reunion dear. With love all changeless still, when he comes home. —Ruth Raymond, in Ohio Farmer. D'ri and I By IRVING BACHELLEK Author ">f " Eb«*n Holden." "Darrel of the Blessed Isles," Etc. | .—--^6—————^^ (Copyright, llWl, by I.othiop I'uVljshinx I oinpaity.) CHA PTEK X I.—Contik uKi >. I led my horse to the stable, scraped liirn of lather and dirt. give him a swallow of water, and took the same myself, for I had a mighty thirst in me. When I came in, she had eggs and pitatoes and bacon over the lire, and was filling the tea-kettle. "On my soul," said she, frankly, "you are the oddest-looking man 1 ever saw. Tell me, why do you carry that long club?" 1 looked down. There it was under my arm. It surprised me more llian anything I ever found myself doing. "Madame, it is because I am a fool," I said as 1 flung it out of the door. "11. is strange," said she. "Your clothes —they are not your own; ihey are as if tluy were hung up to dry. And you have a saber and spurs." "Of that tlie less said the better, " I answered, pulling out the saber. "Un less —unless, mailame, you would like me to die young." "Mon Dieu!" 3he whispered. "A Yankee soldier?" "With good French blond in him," I added, "who was never so hungry in all his life." 1 went out of the door as I spoke, md shoved my saber under the house. "i have a daughter on the other side of (he lake," said she. "married to a Yam ee, and her husband is lighting tlu BMtish with the rest of you." "God help him!" said I. "Amea!" said she, bringing my food to the table. "The great Napoleon he will teach them a lesson." She was a widow, as she told me, liv ing there alone with two young daugh ters who were off at a picnic in the near town. We were talking quietly when a familiar voice brought me standing. "Judas Priest!" it said. D'ri stood in the doorway, hatless and one boot missing—a sorry figure of a man. "Ifidin' over 'n th' woods yender," he went on as I took his hand. "See diet air brown hoss go by. Knew 'im soon es I sot eyes on 'im -use' t' ride 'im myself. Hod an idee 't WHS you 'n the saddle—sot a' Kind o' easy. But them air joemightyful clo's! Jerushy Jane! would n't be fit t* skin a skunk in tin m clo's, would it?" "Got 'em off a scarecrow," I said. '"Nought' mck a painter ketch 'is breath, they wits." The good woman bade him have a chair at the tabie, and brought more food. "Neck 'is broke with hunger, 't. is sartin," said he, as he began to eat. "Hev t' light, out o" here purly middlin' soon. T' ain' no safe place t' be. "112 won' never dew fer us t' be ketched." We ate hurriedly and when we had finished ihe good woman gave us each an (iiitfii of apparel left by her dead husband. It was rather snug for D'ri, and gave him an odd look. She went out ol doors while we were dressing. Suddenly she came back to the door. "Go into the cellar," she whispered. "They are coming!" CHAPTER XII. 1 found the door, and D'ri flung our "duds" into the darkness that lay be yond it. Then he made down the lad der and I after him. It was pitch dark in the cellar —a deep, dank place with a rank odor of rotting potatoes. We groped our way to a corner and stood listening. We beard the clink of spurs on the stone step. "Ah, my good woman," said a man with a marked English accent, "have you seen any Yankees? Woods are full of them around here. No? Well, by Jove, you're a good-looking woman. Will you give me a kiss?" He crossed the floor above us, and she was backing away. "Come, come, don't be so shy, my pretty woman," said he, and then we could hear her struggling up and down the floor. I was climbing the ladder, in the niidot. of it, my face burning r/Hh anger, ami D'ri wss nt my heels. ! As the door opened i saw slie had fal len. The trooper was bending to kiss her. 1 had hint by the collar and had hauled hint down before he discovered us. In a twinkling D'ri had stripped him of sword and pistol. Bui it was [ one of the most hopeless situations in : all my life. Many muzzles were point- j ing at us through the door and win- j dow. Another hostile move from either | would have ended our history then j and there. I let go and stood back. j The man got to his feet —a handsome soldier in the full uniform of a British | captain. "Ah, there's a fine pair!" he said : coolly, whipping a leg of his trousers 1 with his glove. "I'll teach you better | manners, my young fellow. Some o' I those shipwrecked Yankees," he adder' turning to his men. "If they move j without an order, pin 'em up to th 3; wall." He picked up his hat leisurely, step ping in front of D'ri. "Now, my obliging friend," said he, holding out his hand, "1 'll trouble you for my sword and pistol." D'ri glanced over at me, an ugly look in his eye. He would have fought | to his death then and there if 1 had i given him the word. He was game to j the core when his blood was up, the same old D'ri. "Don't fight," I said. He had cocked the pistol and stood braced, the sword in his right hand. I noticed a little quiver in the great sinews of his wrist. I expected to see that point of steel shoot, with a quick stab, into the scarlet blouse before me. "Shoot 'n' be damned!" said D'ri. '"Fore 1 die ye 'll hev a hole er tew 'n thet air karkiss o' yourn. Shan't give up no weepon tell ye've gin me yer ] word ye 'II let thet air woman alone." 1 expected a volley then. A very serious look c»mie over the face of the captain. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. 1 could see that he had been drinking. "Ah, I see! You have an interest in her. Well, my man, I want no share in your treasures. 1 accept the condi tion." Evil as was the flavor of this poor concession, D'ri made the best of it. ' She 's an honest woman for all I know," said he, handing over the HE LIGHTED THE CANDLE AND WENT ABOUT POURING ITS GLOW ON EVERY WALL AND CORNER OF OUR CELL. weapons. "Ain't a-goin' t' see no ledy niishused —nut ef I can help it." We gave ourselves up hand and foot to the enemy; there was no way out of it. I have read in the story-, books how men of great nerve and skill have slaughtered five to one, escaping with no great loss of blood. Well, of J a brave man I like to believe good things. My own eyes have seen what has made me slow lo doubt a story of prowess that has even the merit of possibility. But when there are only two of you, and one without arms, and you are in a corner, and there are 10 pistols pointing at you a few feet away, and as many sabers ready to be drawn. I say no power less remark able than ihat of God or a novelist can bring you out of your difficulty. You have your choice oC""iwo evils — surrender or be cut to pieces. We had neither of us any longing lo be ; slashed with siecl and bored with bul lets. and to no end but a good epitaph : They searched the cellar and found 1 our clothes,and wrapped them in a bun-1 ule. Then they tied our hands behind us and took us along the road on which I I had lately ridden. A crowd came jeer ing to the highway as we passed the, little village. It was my great tear iliat i .somebody would recognize either one ! or both of us. Four of our men were silling in a guard-house at the British cam)). Alter ] noon mess a teamster drove up with a 1 big wagon. Guards came and shackled us in pairs, D'ri being wrist to wrist j with me. They put a chain and ball j on D'ri's leg also. I wondered why, for no other was treated with like respect. Then they bundled us all into the wa-1 gon, now surrounded by impatient | cavalry. They put a blindfold over the J eyes of each prisoner, and went away \ at a lively pace. We rode a long time, j as it seemed to me, and by and by I j knew we had come to a city, for 1 j could hear the passing of many wagons ' and the murmur of a crowd. Some | were shouting, "Shoot the d d Yan- | kees!" and now and then a missile; struck among us. There is nothing so j heartless and unthinking as a crowd, j the world over. I could tell presently, by the creak of the evener and the stroke of the hoofs, that we were climbing a long hill. We stopped short- J ly; then they began helping us out. j They led us forward a few paces, the ; chain rattling on a stone pavement. When we heard the bang of an iron j door behind us, they unlocked the I CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MARCH 2, 1905. heavy feiter. This <3one, they led nr. along a gravel wall; an<l over ■) sounding stretch of I oanls a bridge, i have always though* through an -01 her heavy door and down a winding flight of stone stepj. They led us on through dark passages, over stone pav ing, and halted us. after a long walk, letting our eyes free. We were in black darkness. There were two guards iic fore and two behind us bearing can dies. They unshackled us, and opened a lattice door of heavy iron, bidding us enter. I knew then that we were go ing into a dungeon, deep under Uk wails of a British fort somewhere on the frontier. A thought stung me as D'ri and I entered this black hole and sat. upon a heap of si raw. Was this to be I lie end of our lighting and of (13? "You can have a candle a day," said a guard as lie blew out the one he car ried, laying it, with a tinder-box, on a shell in the wall of rock beside nie. Then they filed out, and tho narrow door shut with a lou.l bang. We peered through at the fading flicker of the candles. They threw wavering, ghost ly shadows on every wall of the dark passage, and suddenly went out of sight. We both stood listening a mo ment, "Curse the luck!" I whispered pres ently. "Jest es helpless ea if we was hung up by the heels," said D'ri, gioping nis way to the straw pile, "Ain" no use gill in' wratliy." "What 'll we do?" I whispered. "Dunno," said he: "an' when ye dun no whut t' dew, don' dew nuthin. Jest stan' still; thet's whut I b'lieve in." He lighted the candle and went about, pouring its glow upon every wall and into every crack and corner of our cell —a small chamber set firm in ma sonry, with a ceiling ao far above our heads we could see it but dimly, the candle lifted arm's-length. "Judas Friest!" said D'ri, as he stopped the light with thumb and fin ger. "I'm goin't' sot here 'll Ui' straw Ink an ol' hen 'll' i!e up m' thinker 'n' set 'er goin'. One o' them kind lies t' keep 'is mouth shet er lie can't never dew no tliinkin'. Bymby, likes es not, I 'II have suthin' t' say et 'll mount t' suthin'." We lay back on the straw in silence. I did a lot of thinking that brought me little hope. Thoughts of Louison and Louise soon led me out of prison. After a little time I went philandering in the groves of the baroness with tho two in comparable young ladies. I would wil lingly have stood for another bull. t if I could have had another month of their company. The next thought of my troubles came with the opening of the iron door. I had been sound asleep. A guard came in with water and a pot of stewed beef and potatoes. "Thet air's all right," said D'ri, dip ping into it with a spoon. We ale with a line relish, the guard, a sullen, silent man with a rough voice that came out of a bristling mustach", standing by the door. "Luk a-liere," said D'ri to the guard as we finished eating. "I want t' ast you a question. Ef joti hed a purty com f'table hum on t' other side, 'n' tew tl ( usan' dollars 'n the bank, 'll' bosses n' ev'rythiug fixed fer a good time, 'n' all uv a sudden ye found yerself 'n sech a gol-dum dungeon es this here, what 'u'd you dew?" The guard was fixing the wick of his candle and made no answer. "Want ye t' think it ail over," said D'ri. "See ef ye can't think o' suthin soothin' t' say. God knows we need iU" The guard went away without an swering. "Got him tliinkin'," said D'ri, as he lighted the candle. "He can help us some, mebbe. Would n't wonder ef he was good et cipherin'." "If he offered to take two thousand, I don't see how we 'd give it to him," said 112. "He would n't take our promis? for it." "Thet ain' a-goin' t' bother us any," said D'ri. "Hed thet all figgered out long ago." He gave me the candle and lay down, holding his ear close lo the stone floor and listening. Three times he shifted his ear from one point to another. Then he beckoned to 1110. "Jest hoi' yor ear there 'n' listen," he whispered. 1 guve him Hie candle, and with my car to the floor 1 could hear the flow of water below us. The sound went away in the distance and then out of hearing. After a while it cam 1 again. "What does it mean?" I asked. "t'iphorin' a lectio over thet air," said lie, as he made a long scratch on the floor with his flint. Then he rubbed his (hin. looking down at it. "Haiti icst egg/ae'ly mod up my mind yit," lie added. We blew out the light and lay back, whispering. Then presently we heard tho coming of footsteps. Two men came to the door with a candle, one being the guard we knew. "Come, young fellow," said the lat ter, as he unlocked the door and beck oned to me; "they want you upstairs." We both got to our feel. "Not you," he growled, waving D'ri back. "Not ready fer you yet." lie laid hold of my elbow and snapped a shackle 011 my wrist. Then I hey led me out, closing the door with a bang that echoed in Ihe far reaches of the dark alley, and tied a thick cloth over my eyes. "Good luck!" D'ri cried out as they took me away. "For both," I answered as cheerfully as I could. They led me through winding pas sages and iron doors, with that horri ble clank of (be prison iatcli, and up (lights of stone till I felt as lost as one might who falls whirling in the air from a great height. We soon out upon a walk of gravel, where I could feel the sweet air blowing into my face. A few minutes more and we halted, where the guard, who had hold of my elbow, rang a bell. As the door swung open they led me in upon a toft carpet. Through the cloth I could see a light. "Bring him in. brin.™ him in!" a voice commanded impatiently—a t'ecp, heavy voice Ihe sound of which I have not yet forgotten. The guard was afraid of it. His hand trembled as lit led me on. 'Take off the blindfold,' «aid thai voice again. As it fell away, I found myself !n a large and beautiful room. My eyea were dazzled by the light of many candles, and for a little I had to close them. I stood before two men. On" sat facing tr.e at a black table of carved oak- a man (if middle age, in the uni form of a British general. Stout and handsome, with brown eyes, dark hair and mustache now half white, and nose aquiline by the least turn, he im pressed me as have few men that ever crossed my path. A young man sat lounging easily in a big chair be side him, his legs crossed, his delicate fingers teashig a thin mustache. I no ticed that his hands were slim and hairy. He glanced up at me as soon as 1 could bear the light. Then he sal looking ioly at the carpet The silencw of the room was broken only by the scratch of a quill in the hand of the general. 1 glanced about me. On the wall was a large painting that held my eye. I saw presently it was that of the officer I had fought in the woods, the one who fell before me. 1 turned my head; the young man was looking up at me. A fine set of teeth showed between them. "Do you know him?" lie asked cool ly. "I have not the honor," was my re ply. "What Is your name?" the general demanded in the deep tone I had heard before. "Pardon me," said the young man, quietly, as if he were now weary of ! ihe matter, "I do not think it neces sary." There was a bit of silence. The central looked thoughtfully at ilic young man. "If youi lordship will let me—" he went on. "My dear Sir," the other interrupted, in the same weary and lethargic man ner. "I tan get more reliable knowledge from other sources. Lot the fellow go back." "That will do," said the general to Ihe gaurd, who then covered my eyes and led me buck to prison. Lying there in the dark. 1 told D'ri all I knew of my mysterious journey. My account of the young man roused him to the soul. "Wlia' kind uv a nose lied he?" ho inquired. "Roman," I said. "Bent in at the p'int a leetle?" "Yes." "And black hair shingled short?" "Yes." "An" tall, an' a kind uv a nasty, snookin.' mis'able-lookin' cuss?" "Just about the look of him,"l said. "Judas Priest! Ho 's one o' them snoks et tuk me when you was fightin' t' other feller over there 'n the woods." "Looks rather bad for us," I re marked. "Does hev a rtither squeaky luk tew il," said he. "All,we got t' dew is t' keep brcathin' jest as nat'ral 'n' easy os we can be till we fergit how. May 100 l 'em fust they know." [To Do Continued. | DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. Victim of >1 in placed < on- ! fUIciXCC I'I'OVCN fo III' a Milll of It«*Moiirt*efi. The following ttory comes from Bel gium says the Philadelphia Ledger. Two fellow travelers got into con versation and came upon the subject of free luggage, when asked leave to measure the other's trunk. The rosull was that ihe measurer said: "Your trunk is seven and one-half centimetres too long, and has no right to be in the compartment of free lug gage. I am a railway inspector, and must fine you five francs. Please give me your name and address." The proposed victim of misplaced | confidence was, however, equal to the j occasion. "Kindly lend mo your measure, th-' ! I may satisfy rays - ! lon the subject.." i Then with a polite smile, "I cm r. director in the royal weights and meas ure office. To my great regret your measure is not stamped, as requirct 1 by lav/, so that, first, your measuring i. not legally valid, and. secondly, it ie my painful duty to subject yoi' to c. line of fifty francs. Please give nw jour name and address." Senator MorwAii** Eclair. A colleague tells an amusing storj in which Senator John T. Morgan, who is quite near-sighted, is the main fig ure. It appears that the Alabama statesman, while at dessert one even ing in a hotel at Hot Springs, Va., ex perienced considerable difficulty in sep arating from the plate passed him by Ihe colored waiter what he thought was a chocolate eclair. It stuck fast, so Senator Morgan pushed his fork quite under it and tried again to pry it up. Suddenly he became aware that his friends at the table were convulsed with laughter, which much mystified him. But his surprise was even greater when the waiter quietly remarked* "Pardon, me, senator, but that's my thumb!" —Saturday Evening Post. Particular WitiiCM*. "How far off were you when you saw Ihe horse do what you say?" asked the late Sir Frank Loekwood. "Seven yards, three feet, four and a half inches," was the reply. "How comes it you are so sure about the distance?" pursued Sir Frank. "Because," replied the witness, "I ex pected some fool or another would as the question, so I measured it."— Smith's Weekly, - i Balcom & Lloyd. I i ===== 1 I 1 ( I | [I WE have the best stocked general store in the county and if you are looking for re- I.l] liable goods at reasonable prices, we are ready to serve :|j you with the best to be found. M || Our reputation for trust | worthy goods and fair dealing ji 1! is too well known to sell any Ml but high grade goods. | 11 Our stock of Queensware and J.j Jj Chinaware is selected with M great care and we have some ij Bj of the most handsome dishes P if] ill |\j ever shown in this section, ]| both in imported and domestic p makes. We invite you to visit || us and look our goods over. j] 1 I I I 1 I hoj [if m p I Balcom & Lloyd. 1 W* c M [E%g a; j LOOK ELSEWHERE | p.vBAR'S Q °° m SUlt8 ' "° lid $25 9 1 | deboard ' q uartered JQQ w <jK |2B Bedroom Suita, iolid |3B Sideboard, quartered ■&' & Suit®, solid JJQ $22 Sideboard, quartered Jjg vl A large line of Dressers from Chlfflonlers of all kinds and M W U P- prices. sjj* rf A- ar K e elegant line of Tufted and Drop-head 0 Couches. Beauties and at bargain prices. )*■, Q, The finest line of »Sewing Machines 011 the market, & W the "Domestic" and "Eldredge". All drop heads and W Q_ warranted. ft $ A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in ft sets and by the piece. ft # As I keep a full line of everything that goes to make ft up a good Furniture store, it is useless to enumerate them » ft all. * U Please call and see for yourself that I am telling you jvL the tiuth, and if you dou't buy, there is no harm done, as £ it is 110 trouble to show goods. W | GEO. J. LaBAR. |
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers