6 LC'l INTERESTING PEOPLE. Tiny il\e in 'A quiet sort of way, In a quiet soil of a street; Tliey dou't meet a great many people, nor Impress the people I hoy meet. The newspapers never mention their names; The world doesn't care what they do, • They never 150 in for anything much, And their intimate friends are few. lie never has had a favorite club. Though somebody said he might, For a fat little nose 011 the window pane Awaits liiin every night; And eight little lingers and two little thumbs Undo all the work of the comb, As he sits In the quietest sort of a way In his quietest sort of a home. Fhe doesn't belong to a woman's club. She hasn't a single fad. She spends her time with a blue-eyed lass And a mischievous little lad. She never unraveled a Problem of Life; She doesn't know lots of things; She plays with the "kids" and works all And most of the time she sings. Tie isn't like most other husbands at all, She isn't like most other wives; And they never attempt to make a change In the course of their quiet lives; But once in a while they dress the "kids" And goto spend the day In a nice little country spot. In a nice little quiet way. —Maurice Brown Kirby, in Collier's Weekly. M A ROSE OF M NORMANDY A WILLIAM R. A. WILSON CHAPTER XVIII.—CONTINUED. Renee then opened her heart to her companion, and the iron-gray head of the doughty warrior was bent in won dering interest at the recital of the perils of the girl, the depth of a wom an's love, the wound a feminine heart can suffer and yet live, and the strength of purpose of a noble nature that has resolved to conquer, even though it be by flight. She told of the Comle de Miron, of his duel with Tonti, of her adventure in the chair, of Iter love she felt to be returned, of the appearance of the comte in Que bec. As regards Tonti she contented herself with saying that she had learned that she was mistaken in tier estimate of the man, that he was all unworthy of her love, and that, in short, she had ceased to love him. Her reticence as to the cause of her .change of feeling, the vehemence with which she expressed her dislike, and the evidences of mingled shame and hurt pride in her tone, caused Fronte nac to smile indulgently. He listened patiently until the end and then dis missed her, saying in a soothing tone: "I will consider the matter ma chere, and if I can And no other remedy, be lieve me I shall not stand in your way of escape from this rascal, but shall aid you all in my power." Renee thanked him and arose to go. As she passed through the anteroom she was startled at finding Tonti stand ing by the window, evidently awaiting an opportunity to see the comte. He, too. was surprised at beholding her, and bowed low as she passed, mutter ing some commonplace greeting. She, however, neither noticed his bow, his words, nor himself, but with eyes fixed in front of her, passed rapidly through the door with an air of haughty pride and disdain that would have done credit to mademoiselle herself, and was gone. Frcntenac saw this by-play and latighed at the rueful countenance with which Tonti greeted him. "There seems to be some mistake," he said. "You apparently think you know the fair donnee, while she be lieves differently. Ah! you knave, try ing your fascinations on every pretty woman you meet!" "Pardon, M. le Comte," replied Tonti, stiffly, "but I knew the young lady before leaving France, hence my salutation. She probably did not see me." 4 "Very likely," responded Frontenac, dryly. "Since you know her so well she will probably tell you how it hap pens she is here and all about her self. It will save me the trouble." Tonti grasped him by the wrist nerv ously. "Come," he said, "you are my friend. Tell me when and why did she leave France?" Frontenac, seeing the young man's earnestness, good-naturedly told him him of the arrival of his charge. "She has fled from Louis," murmured Tonti. "But why this garb of a re lijrieu.se?" "To escape the attentions of a worthless adventurer who came in the same ship. She wished to become a nun, but I was uot willing to allow that." "Wished to become a nun!" ex claimed Tonti, in astonishment. "How can that be? She loves La Salle, and he la devoted " "Loves La Salle!" laughed 'Fronte nac long and loudly. "Ho! ho! my friend, I happen to know better than that." Tonti's face tluatied angrily. He took a step forward, crying ."You know? What can you know—unless, liar I)ieu! you are wooing her and in tend to marry her yourself?" Frontenac fairly choked with merri ment at these ireful words. When he was able to speak again he said: "Mordl! one at a time! Do I want both ears boxed? Hut come, my war like friend, sit down uud evaporate your wrath." Tonti took several strides up and down the room, then turning to iiis companion, exclaimed: "Pardon, mon ami, but I am dis tracted and know not what I say. Hear me. and decide if I have not reason for my madness. I meet a beautiful wom an in Paris. I worship and adore her. She is friendly. 1 leave France; and my comrade, lie whom I have sworn to aid and defend, confides to my honor a mighty secret, tells me thai he loves the same woman, and that he has every reason to believe that he can win her. Two years later I approai 'a a besieged seigniory in tlie wilderness and find her, the woman 1 love and whom I left across the seas, as the de fender of the post. I meet her here; she will not even recognize me. You talk of her and tell me she desires lh<? convent and the veil. Mon Dieu! what am I to believe?" "You hlive never told me of your love?" asked the comte in return. "I could hardly do so after my friend and companion had honored me with his confidence, little dreaming of my own feelings toward her," replied Tonti, proudly. Frontenac watched the young man musingly. "One can never know a woman's mind. If Madame Bi/.ard were here " "Madame Bizard?" cried Tonti. "She has never known her?" "Certainement! It was to her charge that I confided the girl when she first came." "Misericorde!" ejaculated Tonli. He then related to the governor the details of the attempt to entrap him through the agency of that woman be fore he had left Quebec. Frontenac opened his eyes and whistled softly. "She then has reason to dislike you. She offered to become your dishonorable friend; you re pulsed her, she accordingly became your dishonored enemy. I see," he muttered to himself after a moment's thought "See what?" exclaimed Tonti. "Nothing," was the mysterious re ply, "except the sunlight advancing along the lloor, which reminds me that time passes. Perhaps I may find a so lution to your riddle some day." After Tonti had left the room Fron tenac sat awhile buried in thought At | "I HAVE DONE THE BEST I COULD." length his brow cleared, his lips parted in a smile, and he i'lughed at some idea that occurred to hita. He evidently relished his little joke, for the next week the mere sight of Tonti or Renee in the distance was sufficient to set his sides a-shaking. <W'he savor of his jest was so enjoyable that it kept him in excellent humor at the next council meeting, so that for the first time since the arrival of Duchesneau there was absolutely no friction. Ilis merri ment even followed him into sleep, and he found himself awaking with a laugh on more than one occasion. He sent for Renee one day, and, taking her hand in his great palm, said kindly: "Ma chere, I have been con sidering the request you made me, and am persuaded that you are right. I believe indeed it is for your best happi ness that you should go. I will send you to Montreal with the nun that ac companies you, there to await the ar rival of the rest of the expedition that I am dispatching to the relief of La Salle, and which will be large enough to protect you. Then," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "I know you will not find in the woods another rascal as base as you believe M. Tonti to be." To Tonli lie said in farewell: "I have been thinking over your predicament of mind, and can give you no solution now. Time will determine all things and set matters right. Now banish all thoughts of love, and back with all speed to your comrades. I have made arrangements for the most important load of all to be shipped from Montreal. When you arrive there *m will receive it. Guard it with your Very life, and convey it in your own canoe, as it will prove indeed to be a treasure for La Salle." He watched Tonti's figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance, and finally turned away with a sigh and the enigmatical remark, "I have done the best I could. If they do not find themselves, It will not be m> fault." As they paddled up the stream on the return voyage, the men kept time to an old chanson that they fang lustily. Tonti did not join in thu song. His mind and heart w«re filled with a strange perplexity, lie had been un able to Bee Itcnee again during his stay in Quebec, and rumors had 1 «>ehed him that she had left again lor some distant point on an errand of mercy. Il"r refusal to recognize him Mill rankled In his heart. He knew not what he could have done to merit her disapproval. He had Intended speaking to her of I*a Salle and telling her of hi t bravery and determination CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1905. thinking that r':e would be content to tail; to him. and thus, although it were to discuss the excellencies of iris rival* lie would find a certain sweet satisfac tion in being with her. Then, too, what would his comrade think when he told him that he had seen her, and yet brought no message from her? A feeling of weariness passed over him, that weariness of living that comes at times to every man, as the result of baffled endeavor or hope deferred, 'hat clogging effect of our imperfect human nature upon the ever-buoyant spiritual. Hut the thought of the patient, stead fast heart awaiting him. tiiat wavered not nor faltered, although surrounded on every hand by foes open and secret, hv tlie giant obstacles of nature, .and the checks of chance and circumstance, quickened Tonti's fortitude and pur pose, until his paddle cleft the water and tossed its glistening spray as gal lantly as any voyageur. Ilenee waited at Montreal the arrival of the party with a feeling of relief and happiness. The voyage from Que bec had been made without discomfort, and as long as the leagues were left behind her spirits had risen, and she had given herself up to the enjoyment of the healthful, vigorous life about her. At length it was announced that the fleet had arrived, and her escort was in waiting. Site thereupon re paired with her companion to the river-side to embark, with a light heart, full of hope for the long jour ney before her. I'pon nearing the de signated place she caught the glint from the paddles of a group of canoes that had already started, and saw the one remaining craft that awaited their arrival. On reaching the landing, she beheld the leader engaged in conver sation with one of the fur-traders. He turned toward her, and she recog nized in him the man from whom she had fled. She saw him start and flush, as though with feigned surprise. She stood rooted to the spot in aston ishment and anger. How he could have learned of her proposed expedi tion she could not comprehend, as she bad taken great care at Quebec that her destination should not be known; no one but the superior and Fronte nac knew, and she did not believe that either of these would betray her. The presumption of the man who, knowing her aversion to him, had forced his society upon her was insufferable. But nothing could be done now. The re mainder of the canoes had already de parted and there was no escape, so summoning to her aid all the pride of a race that for generations had con quered or suffered, as the case might be through their haughtiness, she dis regarded the doffed cap and proffered arm, and took her appointed seat with out a word. CHAPTER XIX. IN WHICH THE PERILS OF THE DEEP A RIO MET, AND POMPON CLIMBS A TREE. Through the long sunny days, past cape and river-mouth, flower-fringed bank and wooded islands, the expedi tion hurried on without let or hin drance from human foe or Nature's ad verse whim. Renee contented herself with conversing in low tones with her companion, whilst Tonti from his po sition in the bow neither spoke nor turned his head. On landing he su perintended carefully the erection of the bark hut that sheltered the wo men for the night and made all ready for their occupancy. Their meals were cooked and served as daintily as the rude means available would allow, the Mohegan hunter in some mysterious manner always providing fresh fowl or fish or tender bird to tempt their appetite. To him and to Pompon who served them Renee was all graeious ness; but Tonti, who cared for every detail and who, unknown to them, slept before their door each night, re ceived no thanks. He did not attempt to force himself upon them, maintain ing always a respectful distance and a demeanor full of deferential courtesy. Delightful as those attentions would have been from the Tonti she had first known, they became under the circumstances anything but agreeable, almost unbearable; for it seemed to Renee lhat, perceiving, as he must, her repugnance for him, he.was choos ing the most successful way to tor ture her and render her miserable. And so the bitterness in her heart for the man she had once loved in creased. At length the distant glimpse of the walls of Fort Frontenac was hailed with delight as being Hie end of 1110 first stage of their long pilgrimage. They landed amid the welcome of guns and shouts of men. Tonti provided the commanding officer's house for the use of Renee and the nun, and detailed one of the mission girls to wait upon them. A slight delay was necessary here in order to transfer the contents of the canoes to a small 20-ton vessel that was placed at the disposal of Tonti. With this the men were to sail directly across the lake to the Niagara river and haul the goods to tho fort before Tonti reached it. This would save Rome time. He preferred to coast along the southern shore of the lake with his party in their canoe, a pro cedure less dangerous as well as one of greater comfort for his passengers. While these matters were being ar ranged, Renee and the nun wandered about the Indian settlement near the fort, viewing their mode of living with much interest, as this was the first glimpse of an ludian camp that they had ever had. They were received with kindness, and fo relieve the sufferings of two or three of the old men of the tribe wljo were bed ridden. One day Hence bad allowed the nun to return to th" fort ahead of her and was haunti ring along the edge of the lake Shu tinally stopped at a polut overlooking the water and stood gaz ing at the soene spread out before her The distant bulldlm of the tort and th» curling tnuoki from the fires of tbs Indian cu uiupneut »<•#•* the only ri;',ns of human habitation visible. \ Behind her, a few yards distant, was j tho dark j-.recn of the primeval forest, while in front on one side stretched tho watery wastes of a great sea. Iler thoughts passed over tho restless sur face of another greater sea to the land of her birth, and a feeling of loneli ness came over her as she realized her isolated position, and she won dered at the strange vicissitudes of the life that le bon IJieu had led her through. The recollection of that bright day at O'.ioisy came to her afresh, when in her girlish eagerm as she hail penned the words of the song she had sung; penned them to the throbbing of a heart newly awakened to the first, tender thrills of a strange, new passion that seemed to satisfy all the yearnings of her nature and made all things new. "Until l:e comes," she murmured in a saddened, dreamy retrospect. Ah! why had he not come—or rather, why had he who had come not proved worthy? Was love, then, all a dream; were 110 men deserving; was there not one who would merit all Ihat rich store of heart and irinrl that she felt was hers to give? Would he come to her in this vast wilderness? Ah! when and who? "I am come," spoke a familiar voice in a hesitating tone, and then stopped. She wheeled quickly about and saw Tonti standing a few paces behind her. She had been so busied with her own thoughts that she had not heard him break through the cover of the wood and approach. On bis back was a huge load of small balsam boughs that he had cut. He threw them down be side him, and, removing his cap, con tinued: "Pardon me, mademoiselle, if I have frightened you. I have been gather ing fresh material for your bed hard by. 1 fear you have rested ill on the solid matted mass you found already there." Renee's eyes blazed. "Do you not know, monsieur, that your attentions are distasteful to me, that I would rather sleep upon the bare ground than upon a downy couch that you had prepared?" she said. Tonti was startled at her heat, and his cheek reddened. He answered, however, in a calm voice: "I am come, as I was about to tell you, to thank you for a service ren dered me, and to ask you to hearken 1 to the few words I have to say. Will you not listen to me?" "I can hardly choose but hear," was the disdainful reply, "since you are j standing in the only paili by which I j can escape." The young man stepped to one side, leaving the way open, and said with a serious haughtiness in his voice: "I | do not wish to detain you against your will. 'Twas but a simple civil request I made, and one that I felt I had a right to expect would be granted." Again Renee broke forth: "Right! What rights have you over mo that I am bound to respect?" Then feeling herself the ungracious ness of her speech, she continued more quietly: "Goon; I will listen." "I wish to thank you, then," began Tonti, "for your assistance in my es cape from Paris. It was admirably planned and all the arrangements were ; perfect. I feel I owe it to you that. I was not detained in France as the re sult of the unfortunate ending of my duel with the Comte do Miron." [To Bo Continued.] Wit of an Anatruliuit Hi fill op. A certain bishop, happily still with us, though retired from the cares of his colonial diocese, was famous throughout Australia no less for his quaint conceits than for his spiritual vigor and eloquence. When one of the clergy described a wealthy parish- ; ioner as a careless, indifferent-sort of ; a man, who cared only for his garden ! during the day and his billiard room ! at night, he said: "Garden! Billiards! j Don't call him careless; he evidently i minds his p*as and cues." To the \ rude question of a dissipated passen- j ger board ship, ' Why do you wear that thing?" (a cros3,) he replied: "For the same reason that you wear a red nose —as a mark of my occupation." — j Strand Magazine. WiuidfriiiK Wiik. In a good many western states where one railroad has gobbled up most oft he available right-of-way land in the im- I mediate vicinity of a town, the rail- j roads subsequently building thither have to build their stations at tho nearest, available point to the place. An instance of this is found at the town of Oswego, Kan. Tho other day a traveling post office inspector from Philadelphia was getting off of a Frisco train at that place. When he had driven a mile or so from the station, and was beginning to get into the straggling suburbs of a village, lie called out to the driver of the 'bus: "Say driver, is this the nearest town to that station where I got oil?" —Hal- I tlmoro American, Clear it* M ml. Mrs. Chugwater—Joslah, what is the meaning of the word "equinox?" Mr. Chugwater—lt cranes from "equus," horse, and "noxious," bad. j Ifad for horses. Will you never learn to use your own mind?"— Chicago Tribune. Meitnt 111 ill. Bess—l really thing May Is in love with you. Jack—Really? Why? "I heard her remark yesterday that homeliness in a man Is not really a drawback, but a sign of character. Philadelphia Press tJUIIII NHbklllHt*. Mrs Youngish Oh. Hob, what shall I tto? Baby Is ervlii beeau>«< I w.,n't I**l him pull ull tho fur off my new rciiff. Mr. VotingUh Well, that's all right, dive him the cat! Smith's Weekly. I fcy tgjfg) grS agreS fflr "" "kM) | Bale® fi Lloyd. I i - jj I I I WE have th© best stocked general store in the county and if you are looking for re- j| liable goods at reasonable prices, we are ready to serve you with the best to be found. Our reputation for trust- fij worthy goods and fair dealing I is too well known to sell any gj but high grade goods. J I Our stock of Queensware and yv, Chinaware is selected with H; great care and we have some p of the most handsome dishes Ip] ever shown in this section, m both in imported and domestic it makes. We invite vou to visit us and look our goods over. 4j I 1 I P [; Balcom & Lloyd. | ?— ■ ! I'l *• m xkA*. m.m. j* J* ********** ** m.m. * LOOK ELSEWHERE BUT DON'T FORGET II THESE PRICES AND FACTS AT - M T JP AlO C 4 ? ] N 1' =L M M §1 We carry in stock 11 ** tfc* the largest line of Car- ** 1 wj pets, Linoleums and SZ £2 Mattings of all kinds W jPJ ** ever brought to this OMffll SJ sr'» town. Also a big: line f? l * it of samples. M A very large line of -FOB THE Bggf Lace Curtains that can- — „ „ . Pi M 1101 be matched any where for the price. w/.H vHLiIU'LL kjj Art Squares and j of fine books in a choice library jr? Rugs of all sizes and j select the Ideal pattern of Globe- P* l kind, from the cheap- Wernicke "Elastic" Bookcase. J? p* est to the best. Furnished with bevel French | plate or leaded glass doors. j£ g jjjg Dining Chairs, pen =rl= d* Rockers and GcO. J. LaBAR, ** fc H Iligll Chairs. Bole Agent for Cameron County. ftjjj jj A large and elegant L line of Tufted and j2 jg Drop-head Couches. Beauties rnd at bargain prices. £4 kj, ■ ■ fj N" S3O Bedroom Suits, f-10 Sideboard, qoar- CQfi solid oak at JV&D tereii <ak SOU P9, £5 S2B Bedroom Suits, <£ol f:!2 Sideboard, quar- CQC )pf| solid oak at tered oak p* r* $25 Bed room Suits, COfl |22 Sideboaid, quar- CIC M solid oak at )ZU I tired 0ak,... *« II A large line of Dresners from | 111 fToniers of all kinds and kg up. all prices. fcjg k M 11 kg The finest line of Sewing Machines on the market, fcg J! the "DOMESTIC" and "M.I RJI-GK.' All dtop- jj 112 J heads and warranted. K A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in ** sets and by the piece. M N As l a full line of everything that goes to 14 make up a good Furniture store, it is useless to euum- 01 »c crate them all. Please call and see for \nur-<-lt that I am telling kg you the truth, and if you don't buv, there is no harm j j done, as it is no trouble to show ds. j j II GEO. J .LaEAR. » 6S TJ3>ar3r>23ri.*2?A.X ; !LXlVC3-.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers