Alvor(iing' 3(ntc.
The Inrire and rellcnle circulation of tint Ciw
khia RttniH eoinDicnd'lt to thefavoraiMe con
sideration of sdvcrtu-ett. whofe lavors Kill be In
serted at tlie loIlowlOK lew rates:
Bt JAMES . HASSOS.
Cirt-ulntion, - P.JOO.
,r.-n'r'
SiBXCBirTIOS KATES.
, nuin IB .tTB...... .11. iO
,t, i.' 0l)t irrt within s mth 1 TS
. 11 not. paid "'tarn months. -a
, d .. nt aid wltnlo the year., y jft
1 men, 8 times flM
1 ' S months.
1 C mouths.......
I " 1 year
S " 9 nieatha.
a " 1 year
t " e months.......
lyear
vi ool'n a month!
4 a month
4 1 year
I months.
1 year.
860
if
e.oo
e.oo
10.00
8.0
in.n
;K , w , m m m m m www.
so o
.. Sa.Ge
4o.0g
.. T5.00
I' wm residing owttiae or uia oounty
Roslner Items, first Insertion lOe. par Una ; eaob
subsequent insertion fro. per lira.
Administrator's and fcxeoator's lr Joes..... I M
Auditor's fiotloes ..... .... 1.00
t -? .rent wUI tn ahove Urw be ae-
w , - oa uju-v " ' - "
k "'TJni nyiuK m advance mum not e
JAS. C. HASSON, Editor and Proprietor.
'i is a ruiuiAji whom thi thoti maem rsu, us all ark platka bzsxdk.'
SI. CO and postage per year In advance.
Ktr.T and similar Notlra l.aO
W Unot'itum T procmdtm 0f rorpvrartatt
J" .....rd a -"--
.fJYfB,.t 6" JlAneUy nnlertoHl from
,.'a!r"'-
.our Pir heore too stop It. If stop
V''! .hni aoalawairi do otherwise I
or aonrfv, . J fMumii (ctcnu tetigned fa raf ltrr
ftoa fa mMier of imiifri or tnavtaaa incerat-
VOLUME XXIV.
EBENSBUHG, PA., FRIDAY. OCTOBER 17, 1S90.
NUMBER 40.
Job Paiarma of all klads neatly aaderpedl-
onsly axacatad at lowett trices . lon'tyoa iorr
it.
Fbrirt " Freeman,
ft'
Li lib Uf
8
Opens "VVcdnccday, Sept. 3.
icil only one price.
-IN-
Dress Goods.
hiohwe wish to sead every
er Supple!!. Write to us and
;ll an your needs.
fly styles nearly all-wool
cy stripe suitings, S6 inches
It, tt 25c a yard.
A. lot of double-width caali
:e, new colorings, made apec
.j for us, enly 25c. a yard
All-wool fancy stripes, in
:. e new spring shades, 36
:c3 wide, regular 5c. goods
dj SSc. a yard.
tO pieces all-wool mixture
'.Iek, 0 in. wide, 3 Go. a yd.
1 lot of all-wool stripe tri
, choice colorings. 30 inches
, 44c a yard.
".e hundred pieces, everyone
i
L.rent in colorings or designs ;
!, stripes, checks and cross
cashmere weight cloth,
. a. yirj.
Uot of all-wool 50 in. side
.1 suitings, T5c. quality at
:&yarJ.
Another, 50 inch, all-wool
"Eg weight stripe suitings,
a yard.
Ia 5n?r goods up to the finest
ii, made in foreign countries
::rely for us, our stock is
summer silks of every de
ftion in very large varieties.
vrite to our Mail Order De-
& CO.,
""3-1 PEN'S AVE.,
iiTSBURGH, PA.
wu woman, bo armait
K.4 -iMu tx covaa TMa sam
t.i likd or True-a aurnst
' 0 TUB BAMTH.
i:iuatat
4 circular to
t-aRCT, Jr., & Co.,
" ,v"luut Htroot,
-.. DELPHI A.
!5 WEAK MEN
I'" l u of "ta uion, early
TX I aaal-d eaainin fuU
,"atal,.'k 1 hou.d'U r-4 by .nr,
St " "0,1 "J drUUtatl. AMrZl
"V.raj (I'ltm ,
no kntfat
;smrtlaMV . Id
' - lasCIUakafcL . v.
Ill BARGAINS
HOME
HE PEOPLE'S STORE,
FIFTH AVENUE, PITTSBURG, PA.
gE : PITTSBURG : EXPOSITION
, th Ei position excorsloo ratrs on all tba railroads to Plttaborc willludoce a
... of ynu to vlair oar city. Tb ruanagera of lb Plttsburt expoeitlon ara mak
rf sifjrtto make ItloUrrKtiDK, enttrtaiainf( and iD9truetie, aoa ia eyerr way
jt fi" patronage of tba thousand who will pome to see It.
arts to lo our part y bavlOBi a nhow there It will be principally of CARPETS.
'",, nniy reprrteou ona of tbe many departments to oar large establishment, we
aoa tnee oor ecnreroom oo r irta ATenue. toe imrgr.t ana nurpi in iu
. ' . . rf...rlT.hni. in ths naw atll.a fnr Fall anrf tVlnf-r wear for I.arti-A
ItfiriSWI r.rij ..n. . ........
. . J UK.. I. . all llnrf. - r. Ih. Ul.a f..hl.in. I n I .ilia. n .4 Ul.u.
Tian.rtman with all the naat and nnhhv atvles of Hit and Bonnets ia
t'.i wuftb wema to IUlf.
Vn'.stn. In tbe wy of Underwear. ;(Itovf8 Hlery and Troiraines as well.
g b'AOkrt. r ianei, tomrori'. ibdis Linena, onrrunm hdu uouMirriiioii iwns,
, unoii Diln of tbe !-.. Vou are lnit-l to call aod aee our etore' whether
Irlirf to purchaie or not. So pusbinn or boriiiu: to buy. pottte and courteous treat-
CAMPBELL & DICK.
NO MORE OF THIS!
Buhner Rbnoa unl-N worn uncomfortably tlxht,
will ufteu alip nlT Ui- fr-rt. To rtnmiy
this evil the
" COLCHESTER " RUBBER 6D.
off-r a shop nrith tha ln.M of the bed Une4 witb
ruWirr. Thi t liiirn t the aboa and provost
Uia Uublw-r frotu slipping off.
Call for tbe olebaater "
ADHESIVE COUNTERS"
arHljroucaa walk, run or Jump Lu Umuu.
ROBERT EVANS,
rt i a
f w rs-nr-
UNDERTAKER,
ARB MANUFACTURER OF
and dealer In all kinds ot FCKMTVKE,
TA tall line .1 CatkeU always on hand.-.
Bodies Embalmed
WHEN REUtJIKED.
Apt to .a
LILLY
iniic.&mraip
AGENCY.
F1KE INSURANCE AT COST. rCUCIES
ISSUED JN liOOU KtUABLK COMPA
NIES AT VEST LOWEST RATES.
STEAMSHIP TICKETS SOLD AN DRAFTS
ISSUED PAYABLE IN A LLP A RTS
OF EUROPE.
I. 13. IMnllen, Apent,
LILLY. CAMHKIA CO., PA.
February H, lo. ly.
A 80LID
EEL FENCE!
mauk or
EXPANDED METAL
cvt raos wtecl
fLAtaX
soMrmiNS urn.
For srcseoCNrea. Cwsgin, CrMfnaift. FaaMa)
GAROlNa iataa. Aiaai a, Wlao-ar da. rlA
i. Trl
ttra-p-Mf PLA4TLRIXU LATH. DOOR RATS,
Ae. Writ for lUaatrateU Caudug-ue: nulled rr
CENTRAL EXPANDED METAL CO
II MTataj- ntiabaxc), Hsw
aWdwara Rea haee Ik G same et Lhia r
-jrzrv?- CATAWRlH
CREAM : BALM
rieassavej (k
Raaatl ravMsatce.
HAYfEYTj
Allay Falsi ad
laflaaasaaJ .
ala sVaraEyaa
InltrM tba
aaa af Taslr
sss Head I.
Try th Cure.
A parttele le applied lata ear a aeetrtls a ad la
aareeahle. Price o rents at Itrncltt ; by mall
raruiered. a eu. ELY SKI S M Warren St,
hew York.
LUMBER IS ADVANCING.
SAW-MILLS ST E A 51 ENGINES,
TIr-E mills, hay ppfsks. tic
U Ttt wnt a rirtl-flMt RAW TCII.I
d lorCatloa.T n4pcil pn to latrotiae
In your prrtioa to
A. B. KARQrAK,(lJm!tJ:,Yorii.rv,
"Tofh fRrirl a a 1 1 a.ta.a a. a I . - a a . a. .
" " " ' m3i J a3 cuicrj in:
. a. Jk-TT.S.w Yorht it
flSf
ST
I
m fa
I'D LIKE TO TRY.
If I had eol.! n.lht It nut be)
A uv'li., hurUfn and a rarcf
Ami tiiit'lit It uot runvt-y to me
A so:!s.- i t sorrow and ilrspuir?
T! iiblo wealth would Lot swell
The haipi!U's of kui !i a 1;
I nu.-it nut ilay the rn-'.i man well.
Hut yet I wouldn't ruind to try.
If somf i!ay fame should hunt rue up
And -inif my praic even a lu re,
Would joy or sorrow liil my mp,
Would nUit a tv ovi r a-t or fair?
Votild I not fitint ti e my name
la tiurnliijr 1-ttcrs iduced .: hisrht
I m nioili st. quite, but just thu same
I fet l though I d like to try.
If some fair maid should all her love
I'pon rr.y lonely heart beetow.
As nile starn that shine atxtrc
Look down upon tt.e earth below.
Would life ierfeet!on tnm to rue.
Or would I sometimes sidly si'h
From wedded bondage to te free?
Well, anyhow. I d like to try.
Chicago Herald.
AN OLD MVEU GAMBLEIi.
Incidonta In tho Llfo of "Daddy
Roagraxi. tho Sport.
Fartann XTna at Card, anil I .oat In S
ulat.on II Fought for a Girl Who
IWrim. Ilia Wire liar
Sad Lad.
The nirruhors of tlie SorLinj fratern
ity in St. Louis have alrra'ly .-aisiHl a
larjjo sum of tnnoy toivanU a monu
ment to 'I)aJ.ly" Ki-ayan. When ho
died in a hospital recently th career of
one of the most famous American gam
hlers tame to an end.
Sam 11. Kt ajj-uu was ImipiT in Uussell
ville, Ky., sixty-two j-ears ao. His
father was a clergyman and was prom
inent in iiis section. Sam was tho eldest
sn and was well educated for a boy of
those days in that somewhat unsettled
repion. His father was a man of some
wealth, and anion;? his possessions were
several thoroughbred Kentucky horses.
In these animals Sam found his greatest
delight, and as a boy he soon became a
clever horseman and notod throughout
the vicinity as a daring rider and an ex
pert judjro of horseflesh.
It was but natural that hi tasto
should turn towards the turf, and boforo
he was out of his teens he had adopted
tho life of a professional turfman.
Shrewd at a bargain, ho is said to have
made several thousand dollars with tho
few horses ho owned before ho had at
tained hi majority. Hut bad luck came
to him soon after and ho was soon seen
at the framing-tables. When twenty-two
years old ho linked his fate as a gam
bler with an old professional named
Morton. Ho and Morton ran ud and
down on tho Mississippi river steamers,
.i-.i'iian j nlt"eT over on me Kea
river oats. and many adventures befell
"Dad" during all thse years. Hack in
ls.vj Iad" came to St. Joseph, then
tho gateway to the Kar West.
The first story told of Dad" is of a
fame of poker ho had with a man
named Kdirekin. a "fly" gambler, on the
steamer La Hello Creole while on a run
to New Orleans. "Dad" w as a "squaro
kport." He never stooped to trickery,
while the man Kdgeton was directly the
oniK.site in his methods of play. There
was a big jack-pot. and every one but
Kdgeton and "Dad" had dropped out.
The amount of money in the pot is not
stated, but it was sufficient to excite
loth men. "Dad" had a full hand, and
kept raising each raise made by his op
ponent, w ho sat opposite to him. There
was a call and "Dad" lay down his
hand, while Kdgeton dropped four aces
on tho table, and started to rake in the
pot. As ho did so, a fifth ace was ex
posed in his left hand. Quick as a
flash "Dad" whipped a revolver from his
pocket and, firing, knowked tho illegit
imate piece of pasteboard-from the
gambler's hand. Then discharging his
Colt's revolver twico in rapid success
ion, ho pierced both of Edgeton's ears
with a bullet. The wounded man drew
an old-fashioned pistol and fired, the
ball grazing "Dad's" Lrow and injuring
him seriously. He reached over the ta
ble, and taking the money and chips,
put the winnings into his pocket and
then fell to the floor of the cabin un
conscious. In 1859, on tho Crescent City, a plant
er named Ross, living near Knoxville,
Tenn., was on his way up tho river from
Now Orleans, where he had boon selling
soma of his products. Ho had with him
between 51.000 and SC0.0OO in cash, and
got into a game with "Dad." Ross had
been drinking heavily and was in no
condition to play tho cards. ' He was
reckless and ready to bet his pilo on a
pair of deuces. Itut such men were con
sidered tho legitimate prey of tho river
gamblers, and "Dad"' was not reluctant
in pulling in the shekels of the ine
briated planter. In an hour's time "Dad"
Lad every cent of the SiO,f.0, and then
Ross realized what he had done. There
was no getting tho money back. On tho
steamers money won at poker was as
square as money made by tho legal sale
of property. Ross arose from the ta
ble, his eyes bloodshot and his face hag
gard. "Well, old man," said he, "you have
now every cent I have in the world,
and I have a wife, a mother and several
children. That money was to pay off
tho debt on my plantation, but it is gone
and they must starve. ISut you won it
square and I'm not kicking. Say good
bye to them for me;" and as ho said
these last words he put his hand around
to his back pocket.
"Dad" and others, divining his inten
tion, sprang forward, but too late. A
bullet had crashed through his skull
and he sank down on the floor dead.
"Dad" bad his body taken to an under
taker's at Memphis and accompanied the
corpse to the plantation. He attended
the funeral, and Hill Harding arr' old
friend of "Dad's" says, gave the widow
every cent ho bad won from Ross. Then
he went back to Memphis, caught the
next boat and continued gaming.
It must have been about this time
that Reagan met the girl that he
afterwards made his wife. Like all the
other incidents of his life, it was a ro
mantic meeting, courtship, marriage and
parting. According to Hill Harding
and Hill is tho only sport left who
knows tho story of "Dad's" life, he met
the girl in this way: It was in a house
in New Orleans that they first auw each
other. She was a French girl possibly
a Creole and was young and pretty.
The night they met was hr first night
away from home. She could not have
been more than twenty years of age, and
Kill, who knew her, says he never saw
a more modest, timid or beautiful woman
in his life.
A man made an improper remark to
Ler and tin- irirl cried out in her shame
and mortification. "Iad" sprang for
ward, and, knocking down the man who
had his arms alout her, stood to protect
her from further insults. The man
arose and he and his friends attacked
"Dad," and a desperate fight ensu-d
from which Roagan emerged victorious,
although suffering Irom a knife wound.
That night he married her. and the next
day they boarded a steamer and went up
the river. "Dad" idolized her and she
worshiped htm. On the trip down, how
ever, the parting came. They had a
quarrel, and "Dad" cast aspersions re
garding her character lieforo he made
her his wife. Kroken-heartcd, she ran
to the side of the loat and threw herself
into the river, (ler body was found
lloating down thestrvam. On the fourth
finger of the l.-ft hand was a plain gold
rin'. and it is this ring that "Dad." a
lie lingered lictwoen life and death in
the hospital, twirled so constantly.
"Tho biggest game Dad' was ever
in," said old Hill Harding, "was in St.
Louis in 1"'J. when the old fellow
carried away S;..0O0 in rash and" chi-cks
and some SU.ooo in I Ill 's and promis
sory notes. I don't know all about that
fitting nor how he struck it so rich, but
I do know that it was so. A number of
tbe most prominent men ia St. Lobis
were in the game, one of them named
ISroenc. I beliovo. who was largely in
terested in the Oranite Mountain Mlnas
.nd very wealthy. One man. Smithers, I
think, was his name, had paid Dad a
c heck for SO.OOO. and then had gone to
ho bank early in the morning, and
'.topped payment on it. When I)ad"
':ame to cash it, of course it was no
food, and 'Dad' was mad. He went
around to Smithers's office, and con
fronting him, tore the check into a
hundred pieces and threw theui into his
fuce. Then reaching into his vest
jHcket he extracted five S1O0 bills, and
tossing them on to Smithers desk, ex
claimed: 'Hero, my poor roan, take
these and buy dinner; and stalked out
of the office. Smithers sent the bills
back the inxt day. and 'Dud gave them
to a missionary society in St. Louis."
Hack in tho fifties "Dad" mado St.
Joseph his headquarters. It was during
tho gold fever in California, and of
course tho city was filled with adventur
ous spirits. The one hotel that is, of
any pretensions w as tho Pacific Jlouse,
which is still standing, and this is per
haps ono of the most famous hotels in
the land to-day. On the second floor of
the Hacific House "Dad" and a partner,
named Cummings "Deacon" Cummings
he was called ran a gambling joint.
Among "Dad's" patrons were two of the
most famous characters of early davs
the Thompson brothers -Colonel Hroad
dus Thompson and "Old Jeff Thomp
son, or the Fire-Eating Tarantula, as he
was often called. Jeff was tho man
who tore down the stars and stripes
from the court-nouse there in 'CI, and
when hedged in with his regiment by
the Yankees wrote orders, like Na
poleon, in blank verso and doggerel.
Colonel Kroaddus andN "Dad" wero
warm friends. Kroaddus would borrow
a few dollars from some one who didn't
know him well, buy a drink for the
crowd and then steer straight for
"Dad's" rooms, where the chances were
he would lose every cent in a few min
utes. It was Broaddus who first sprung
the joke that has been attributed to
Senator Vest, Senator Stewart and about
every living statesman, and will be at
tributed to future public characters
probably. Kroaddus had been sitting
in a game, lost all he had, and went
down into the hotel office. His long
beard was of a delicate ecru color, being
saturated with tobacco-juice. A friend
said to him:
"Colonel, how did you get all that to-bacco-juico
on your beard'.'
"Ky expectoration, sir; by expectora
tion." "And was it necessary to expectorate
in your whiskers?"
"Yes, sir, it was
"Could you not have epit in the cuspa
dores?" "No, sir. I did not daro turn my
head long enough in that game, sir."
"Dad" was a very merry man and
strong as a lion. In thoso days thero
was a notorious character called "Flatte
Purchase Pete." He was born and
raised in this section of Missouri,
and was a typical Western terror. Ho
was a terror simply liocauso ho had ab
normally well-developed vocal organs,
and no one dared to dispute his right to
the title of reigning terror of St. Joe un
til he ran up against "Dad." A game
was in progress ono night and "Platte
Purch aso Pete walked into tho rooms
and began to create a disturbance. The
placers paid little attention to him, and
this irritated Pete. Walking up to
"Dad, he reached down and, taking up
the pile of chips that stool before the
veteran gambler, stepped back a few
paces and hurled them at him. "Dad'
laid down the cards which he was deal
ing, and slowly walking up to Pete,
'rasped him by the back of the neck
and ran him towards the window. Lift
ing tho six-fiot terror, be opened tho
window an I dropped him ouL The fall
was probably sixteen foot, and a broken
leg was the result. Pete was so morti
fied by this disgrace that as soon as he
recovered from the effects of tho fall he
start-d West and never returned.
"Dad" visited Asia, South America
and Mexico. In 7i he came back to St.
Joseph and proved himself to bo worth
S'..otKl. Ho invested heavily in Kansas
and Nebraska lands, but his investments
proved disastrous. He trit-d to found a
town in Kansas, but chose a poor site
and lost money. In '73 he left again,
but came back in '0 and opened a big
saloon the handsomest in the South
west. Ho put every cent he had into
this place, but it was no go and he was
left almost a beggar. Had luck claimed
him then and never relinquished its
hold.
When old Daddy died, about the last
human relic of the early river days
passed away. N. Y. World.
A Iealrabla Location.
ITouse-nunter I hare looked over
that bouse which you recommended so
sligbly, and I find the walls damp, tbe
shutters half off. the drainage out of
order, the cellar full of water and the
roof leaky.
Agent Yes, sir, I know tho house is
in rather bad condition, but think of
its advantages there isn't a piano in
that block. N. Y. Weekly.
Rather a Slow Town.
An event has happened in Kensing
ton, N. II., which has set the inhab
itants wild with excitement. The first
bouse to be built in tho place for thirty
years is approaching completion, and a
grand celebration is expected when tho
inmates take possession.
THE IJEST 3IAN.
How Young- Van Bibber Assisted
a Boston Ixchlnvar.
Young Van IUbber came back to town
from Newport tbe other day to see his
lawyer about the disposal of some prop
erty that needed his sanction. He found
the city very hot and dreary and empty.
He had to wait over for an afternoon
train, and as he was down-town he de
cided to lunch at a French restaurant
near Washington square, where some
one told him you could get particular
things particularly well-cooked. Tho
tables were set on a terrace with plants
and flowers about them and covered
with a tri-colored awning. Thero were
no jangling horse-car bells nor dust to
disturb him, and almost all tho other
tables wero unoccupied. Tho waiters
leaned against these tables and chatted
in a French argot, and a cool breeze
blew through the plants and billowed
the awning, so that on tho whole Van
Hibber was glad ho had come.
When ho had given his order he
leaned back and surveyed the other
diners. There was old Frenchman
scolding over his late breakfast, two
young artisU with Van Dyke beards,
who ordorud the most remarkable things
in the same French argot tiiat th wait
ers spoke, and a younjr lady and a young
gentleman at the table next to his own.
The man's back was toward him, and he
could see only the girl when tho youth
moved to one side. She was very young
and very pretty, and she seemed in a
most excited state of mind from the tip
of her wide-brimmed, pointed French
hat to the points of her patent-leather
ties. She was strikingly well-bred in
appearance, and Van Hibber wonderud
w hy she should be dining alone with so
young a man.
"It wasn't my fault," said the youth,
earnestly; I'd no idea he would be out
of town, and. anyway, it really doesn't
matter. There are other clergymen In
the city besides your cousin."
"Of course," said the girl, almost tear
fully; "but they're not my cousin and
he is, and that would have made it so
much oh, so very much different. I'm
awfully scared."
"Runaway couple, by Jove!" com
mented Van Hibber; "most interesting.
Read about 'em often; never seen eui.
Most interesting."
Ho bent his head over an entree, but
bo could not help hearing what fol
lowed, for the young runaways were in
different to all around them, and though
bo rattled his knife and fork in a most
vulgar manner, they did not hear him
nor lower their voices.
"Well, what aro you going to do?"
said the girl, severely, but not unkind
ly; "it doe.sn't seem to me that you are
exactly rising to the occasion."
'Well. I don't know," answered tho
youth; "we're safe here, anyway. No
body wo know ever comes hure, and if
they did, they are eut of town, now.
You go on and eat something, and I'll
get a directory and look up a lot of cler
gymen's addresses, and then we can
make out a list and drive around in a
cab until wo find one who has not gone
off on bis vacation."
They'll never forgive us" said the
girL
Oh, well, that's all right," exclaimed
the young man, cheerfully; '"really,
you're the most uncomfortable young
woman I ever ran away with. One
might think you wero going to a funer
al. You were willing enough two days
ago, and now you're sorry you camo."
"No, not sorry, exactly," said the
girl; "but, indeed, Ted. it is going to
make so much talk. If wo only had a
girl with us, or if you bad a best man,
or if wo had witneeses, as they do in
England, and a parish registry, or some
thing of that sort; or, if Cousin Harold
bad only been at borne to do the mar
rying." ;
Tho young gentleman called Ted did
not look, judging from the expression
of his shoulders, as if ho were having a
very good time.
He called the waiter and told him to
bring a directory, and as ho turned to
give tho order. Van Hibber recognized
him and he recognized Van Hibber. Van
Hibber knew him for a very nice boy of
very good Hoston fa:ily named Stand
ish. and the younger of two sons. It
was the elder who was Van Bibber's
particular friend. Tho girl saw noth
ing of this mutual recognition, for she
was looking with startled eyes at a han
som that bad dashed up the side street
and was turning the corner.'
Ted! oh, Ted'" she gasped; "it's your
brother. There! In that hansom. I
saw him perfectly plainly. Oh, bow did
he find us? What shall wo do?"
Ted grew Tory red and then very
white.
"Standish, Bail Van Hibber, jump
ing up and reaching for bis hat, "paj
this chap for thoso things, will you, and
I'll get rid of your brother."
Van Hibber came down the steps
lighted a cigar, as the elder StandisI
came up them on tbe jump.
-Hello! Standish!" shouted the Nov
Yorker; "What a coincidence! Why
I've just seen your brother, and now
here you are. What's up?"
"You've seen him!" cried the Hoston
man, eagerly; "yea, and where is he?
Was she with him? Are they married?
Am I in time?"
Van Hibber , answered these different
questions to the effect that he had seen
young Standish and Mrs. Standish not
a half-an-hour before, and that they
were just then taking a cab for Jersey
City, whence they were to depart for
Chicago.
"Tho driver who brought them here
and who told me whoredthey were, said
they could not bavo left this place by
the time I wonld roach it," said tho
elder brother, doubtfully.
"Yes, but they have," said Van Bib
ber; "however, if you get over to Jersey
City in time for the two-thirty, you can
reach Chicago almost as soon as they
do. They are going to the Palmer
House, they said."
- "Thank you, old fellow," shouted
Standish, jumping back into bis han
som; "it's a terrible business. Pair of
young fools. Nobody objected to the
marriage only too young, you know.
Ever so much obliged."
"Don't mention it," said Van Bibber,
: Uely.
Now, then, aaid that young man.
as be approached the frightened couple
on the terrace, "I've sent your brother
off to Chicago. 1 do not know why I
selected Chicago as a place where one
would go on a honeymoon. But I'm not
very good at it. Now, if you will in
troduce me I'll see what can be done
toward getting you two babes oat of the
WOOd." . .
Standish said: "Miss Cambridge, this
is Mr. Cortlandt Van Kiber, of whom
you have heard my brother speak," and
Mis Cambridge said she was very glad
to meet Mr. Van Hibler even under
such peculiarly trying circumstances.
"Now, what you two want to do,"
said Van Hibber, addressing them as
though they were just about fifteen
years old and fco was at least forty, "is
to give this thing all the publicity you
can."
"What?" chorused tho two runaways,
in violent protest
"Certainly," said Van Bibber: "you
w-ere about to make a fatal mistake.
You wero about to go to some unknown
clergyman, of an unknown parish, who
would have married you in a back room
without a certificate or a witness, just
like any eloping farmer's daughter and
a lightning-rod agent. Now, it's dif
ferent with you two. Why you were
not married respectably in church, I
don't know; but a kind Providence has
sent mo to see that thero is no talk or
scandal, which is such bad form. nd
which would havo got your names in
all tho society papers. I am going to
arrange this wedding properly, and you
will kindly remain hero until I send a
carriage for you. Now, just rely on mo
and eat your luncheon cilmly. Allow
me to recommend the salad, which is
especially good."
Van Hibber first drove madly to the
Little Church Around the Corner,
whore he told tho kind old rector all
about it, and arranged to havo tho
church open and the assistant organist
in her place, and a district messenger
boy to blow tho bellows, at three
o'clock. "Now," he said. "I must get
somo names. It doesn't matter much
whether they happen to know tho high
contracting parties or not, but they
must bo names that everybody knows.
Whoever is in town will bo lunching at
Delmonico's and the men will be at the
club." So he just wont to tho big res
taurant, where, as good luck would
have it, he found Mrs. "Rogy" Van
Arnt and Mrs. Jack Parrish and the
Misses Brookline, who were just off tho
yacht Minerva, of tho Boston Yacht
Club, and ho sworo them to secrecy and
told them about it.
At tho club he pressed four men into
service who knew everybody and whom
everybody knew, and when they pro
tested that they had not been properly
invited and that they knew only tho
bride and groom by bight, he told them
that mado no difference, as it was their
names only he wanted. Then he sent a
messenger-boy to get tho bigp-est suite
of rooms on tho Fall River boat and
another ono for flowers, and then ho put
Mrs. Regy Van Arnt into a cab and sent
her after tho bride, and, as best man, ho
got into another cab and carried off the
groom.
"I have acted as best man or usher
forty-two times now," said Van Bibber,
as they drove to the church, "and this
is tho first time I ever appeared in
either capacity in Russia-leather shoes
and a blue-serge yachting suit. But
then." be added, contentedly, "I'm
nothing to the other fellows. One of
them is in a striped-flannel suit."
Mrs. "Regy" and Miss Cambridge
wept a great deal on the way up-town,
but the bride was all smiles and blushes
when sho walked up the aisle to meet
her prospective husband. They all
Bhook hands after it was over, and the
assistant-organist played the "Wedding
March," and one of tho club-men in
sisted in pulling a cheerful and jerky
peal on the church bell in the absence
of tho janitor, and then Van Bibber
burled an old shoe and a handful of rice
which he had thoughtfully collected
from the cook at the club after them
as they drove off to tho boat.
"Now," said Van Hibber, "when that
is printed in the papers to-morrow, it
will read like ono of the most orthodox
and swagger weddings of the season.
Hut still I can not help thinking "
"Well?" said Mrs. "Regy," as ho
paused doubtfully.
"Well, 1 enn't help thinking," con
tinued Van KiLber, "of Standish racing
around Chicago with the thermometer
at one hundred and two in the shade,
and of our meeting when he gets back.
It will be feverish very feverish. I
wish I had sent him to Jersey City only.
It just shows tliat a man who is not
practiced in lying should leave it alone."
N. Y. Sun.
FOR ENGAGED GIRLS.
A Wise Woman Tells Them How to Treat
Their Kotare Husbands.
You have a little band around tho
third finger of your left band In which
is set a turquoise, says the Ladies'
Home Journal, and when it was put
there you remembered that the Hindu
sail: "He who hath a turquoise bath a
friend." Now, that's what you have in
the man you love best, and whose wifo
you are going to become a friend, no
is your sweetheart, your lover, it is true,
but because to you his heart seems best
worth having, his love the richest gift
you can possess, you will not vulgarize,
as many girls do, the tie that binds. It
is true you go with him alone to hear
some wonderful music, or look at somo
fine pictures, but I hopo it is not true
that when you are at a party, or in your
own home, you two pair off and make
yourselves tho objects for silly chatter
and idiotic jesting.
He can love you with his whole heart,
but ho must not make you subject to
ridicule. He can think you the most
unselfish girl in the world, but he must
not show his own selfishness by expect
ing you to devote your evenings ex
clusively to him, ignoring thoso who
are at home. Let him come in and le
one of them there's a dear five minutes
when he can fcpeak to you. when he can
kiss you on the lips that he knows are
only the gates to sweet, pur' speech,
and when he can whisper the lovely
nothings that mean so much to you
both. Then, too, don't let him feel that
he must give up all his friends for you;
don't accept valuable presents from him,
and don't assume an air of proprietor
ship with him. Tell him nothing a!xut
your family affairs, for tbe secrets of
tho household do not even belong to tho
man you are going to marry. - Guard
yourself in word and deed; hold his love
in the best way possible; tie it firmly to
you with the blue ribbon of hope, and
never let it be eaten away by that little
fox who destroys so many loving ties
and who is called familiarity.
Breach of llyicienlc Laws.
Ha wold You look all bwoko up,
Cholly. By Jove, what ails you. deah
boy?
- Cholly Tewiblo accident. Haw old.
Arftor doing my toilet larst night, for
got' to put on my Anger wing again, and
so caught a twemendous toll. Jecl-
ers' Circular.
THEY SAY."
Who ar' the vapue, mysterious They"
Who always bae so Uiueii to say"
f yon a:.d me and every one,
A til every ILii.i that's ; aid or done?
Wherever humi:n souls B!'.n1
There They" are certain to be found.
And tx as careful as wc may
There's no escaping their "They bay." "
They say" they really do not know
'Ti i rumored Mr. tj -anJ so
13 ixh.u to wed M si V.' hat's hcr-nnmc"
No o.;e k:io i whence the ruinor came.
' They" fcl !y h.pcr thU und that.
Of yor and my a:: airs "Th'-y" iiat
Ai:'. lcoT s bu.y day ry day
K . futile- &U:y things ' They say."
They rv" trat noarlv every one
Has son.otLi.. Vr..upl.t or I at v.hdotie
That's "" --'ly aUoek.iif. V? '"" ""w
Vou tr.est not t,:iy who tol l ri so"'
" They" iiiti l a'e such awful tioU
A.:d rive to I.e.. su. h airy w:ni
T5:at tn.th i'.silf i 1-d u-tr- y
Tual Im-ikeiis to the wurs '-They shy."
" They ! ay' Who say it? Let tin m darn
TLrir i.l oi.a..ty ilc'l-rf,
N r h t l.,im longer t.jly ei.!t
To hid.- ta j x.Onij llii y dare to ;.eak.
Why -h :1.1 fiey i,ar M i- refu
To w it. ; which th-.v have It Hi use!
V.'.'.h whis'iert d rraor-i let s avay
N.t lc-d an iat to what "They ;iy."
(. hi-ao Herald.
A NIGHT OF liANGEtt.
Thrillinff Advonturo of a Travelor
In a Southern Forest. -
There was no longer any reasonable
doubt but that I was lost.
All that day I had been tramping
through a wild und almost unbroken
forest, in one of our Southwestern
States.
Since morning. I had not seen more
than a half-dozen human habitations,
and they were of tho poorest and rudest
description, hardly lit for tho abode of
a wild animal.
Since the middle cf the afternoon, the
forest had been unbroken on either side,
so thickly matted with trees and vines
that the eye could not penetrate a dozen
feet into the gloomy shadows.
All there was to show that a human
being had over been that way before
was tho apohvy for a ''Kid that I was
pursuing. If there hu. ever been any
travel u;xm it, there was little sign now
that such Lad been the case. Bushes
had grown up where the ruts might have
been, and in many places the stut vines
had crept around, so that ono had to
k;- p a constant lookout to prevei.t him
belf from bein tripped up by them.
Now and then, in the thickest portion
of the forest, it was almost impossible
t' keep what, in fact, was hardly more
than a trail. Hero it would seem to
branch e ither to the right or left, but
up to nightfall I flattered myself that I
had not gone itray. Hut now 1 had
grave reason to bo worried.
At tho cabin where I had passed the
previous night. I had le-en told that I
bhouid come to another by the middle
eif tho afternoon, or a littlo later, pro
viding I made good time. Hut now
night was close upon me, and the habi
tation I had been looking for at every
turn had failed to materialize.
x The prospect of a night alone in the
dismal forest was not pleasant to con
template. I knew that in the dismal
depths ubout me, outlaws, moonshiners
and cut-throats had their refuge, and I
did not relish tho idea of meeting them
at any time, much less of encountering
them in tho darkness.
It had begun to grow dark about mo,
when I camo- to a point in tho way
which puzzled mo. Tho road forked
again, and for the life of me I could not
determine which to take, the right or
urt.
As many had done before me, I let
chance decide tho matter. Setting a
utick upright, I removed my hand, and
let it fall in the direction it would. It
fell to the left, and so I took that way.
I hurried onward now as fast as I
coull. I wanted to make use of what
daylight still remained, and get to the
cabin where I was to pass the night be
fore it became so dark that traveling
would be impossible. But my haste
amounted to nothing. A darkness
which could almost bo felt closed in
about me. and I felt a certainty that I
must be lost. The cabin I expected to
find had not appeared, and of its exist
e nco I had no reason to doubt. The
people where I had passe-d tLo previous
night could havo had no motive in de
ceiving mo."
Stumbling along in tho darkness,
trying to make up my mind to faco the
inevitable, that of passing the night
out of doors. I suddenly tripped over
something which lay across the path,
and went headlong over it to tho ground.
Mingled with tho shock of striking tho
earth was a thrill of fear, coupled with
astonishment. I did not get upon my
fe-et at once, but sitting up, I reached
out toward the obstruction over which I
had tripped. A thrill of horror ran
through my frame as my hand touched
it. It was the body of a man.
I sprang to ray feet, while 1 could feel
the hair rising upon my head. Had the
body be-on stiff and cold, my fright would
not havo been so bad. By chance I had
placed my hand upon its face, aud I fell
there was tho warmth of life fetill in it.
This was not al". It was wet, and the
moisture stuck to my hands. Although
I could not see, I felt sure that it wa
blood that was sticking to them. An ac
cident had occurred, or a murder had
been committed, within a few minutws
of my coming.
With trembling hands I sought for a
match, and when 1 found tiie, I struck
it aud glauce-d down at tho object before
me. It was the; body of a man, its face
so covered w ith blood that its features
were not discernible. Tho match went
out and I was alone again in the dark
ness, with the body of tho murdered man
lying at my feet.
I lightt-d two er three matcbesatonce,
but their light only revealed to me
what I had already see-n. What could I
do? The thought of remaining by the
side of tho dead man until morning 1
could not entertain for a moment. I
nMist go on until a considerable distance,
at least, was placed lietwecn it and me.
This 1 lost no time in doing. As fast as
my foot would carry mo, I hunied on,
half unmindful if I was keeping tho
trail or not.
For something like half an hour I
pushed onward, and then came suddenly
to a standstill.
On lie-tore me a light was glimmering
through tho trt-es; but I was uncertain
whether it camo from a fire or a will-o'-tbe-v-isp
flitting through the tangled
mazes of the forest. But I would not be
long kept in suspense. Any company
Was better than the dead man lykig in
the road In-hind me. As I came nar,
tho outlines of acabin disclosed itself,
and out through the single window tho
light was gleaming.
I thanked my stars for thi-; without
doubt it was the cabin to which I had
been directed that morning; and I had
stumbled as it wero upon it by seeident.
The thought of finding thoso who had a
band in the death of the man I had left
in tlie road did not occur to rue-, and
walking up to the dixjr, I pave a loud
ra; thereon. Some one commenced to
move aliout. The light was taken from
the window, and. a little later, the door
w as thrown open, and a woman stood be
fore mo. She was not very prepossess
ing, and there v. as a scared look upon
her face, as she- said:
"Who are vou, and wflat do you want
here?"
"lam a stranger traveling through tho
country on hu-.iness. This morning I
was told I should find a cabin here
abouts, wh-re 1 cm.ld g t onlertainment
for the isi-ht."
' Vou had better go away. This is no
place for an honest man. They may be
back soon, and your lifo will be in dan
ger." She would have closed the door, but 1
raised my hand to prevent it. At that
moment she uttered a cry of te rror.
"What is it?" I said.
"Murderer! Look at your Lands,"
she cried. . ?
I held them up. They were covered
with blood which I had got upon them
while feeling in the dark to find w hat it
was that lay across the road. The blood
of the murdered man.
Tho next mome nt she had slammed
the door in my face, and then I heard
her secure it with heavy burs.
A man could hardly find himself in a
more forlorn condition than that I was
now in. No road which a man could
follow before him; a dead man lying in
the forest be hind, and a band of cut
throats liable at any moment to put in
their appearance at the cabin.
Tho sound of running water put me
in mind that there was a chance for mo
to wash the blood from my hands.
!ulded by the sound, I parsed around
the cabin to the spot where, doubtless,
its inmates got their water. Here I
proceeded to give them a geod washing,
although in the darkness I could not
tell whether I had removed all the
stains. I was about to move away from
the spot, when I was startled by the
sound of voices hardly a dozen yards
away. Listening, I caught the words ut
tered as they drew nearer:
"Let him lie there and rot. An above
ground grave is good enough for a dog
of a spy."
Doubtless he was speaking of tho
man over w hose body I had stumbled.
"But some one may find it, and so get
us into trouble," said another.
"There is little chance of that. No
one hardly ever comes this way now."
"You forget that there' is a stranger
somewhere near he-re rrow. W- havo
got to see that ho don't get out of hero
alive."
My blood ran cold. Of course' he could
mean no one- e-xce-pt myself.
"Yes, he has seen too much already.
If he came along the road he must have
run across the de-ad man. Who knows
but what ho may be in the cabin now?
He would want a shelter for the night,
and the light in tho window might bring
him here."
They had reached the doeirway now,
and one of them demanded admittance.
The door epened, and they went in,
closing it behind the m. Now was the
time for mo to make my escape. A
minute later they might learn of tho
woman that I must he somewhere near
at hand. Almost holding my breath,
and moving so that not a dry leaf rustie-d
beneath my feet. I crept away into tho
darkness, going I knew not whither.
To my dying day I shall not forget
that night in the forest. .Morning
found me more dead than alive; but to
my great joy it was on tho edge-of a Con
siderable town.
I at once sought out the autheirities.
and told the'iii tlie story of my night's
adventure. They knew of the where
alnjuts of the cabin, and had long sus
rx'cted it to bo the home of a gang of
robbers and moonshiners. When they
got there, they found it empty. Taking
alarm at my escape, fearing that I had
learned too much, they hud lied to new
quartc-rs for safety.
Tho body of the murdered man was
brought in and buried. Who he was
Was never known to a certainty, but it
was suspected that he was some one w ho
was trying to earn tho re-ward offered
for a clew to the gang of moonshiners
by whom ho had lost his life.
A few years afterwards, I heard that
they had been caught and had paid tho
penalty of their crimes at the halter's
e-nd.
Every now and then that night of
danger comes vividly to my mind, and I
reverently thank Providence, who car
ried mo safely through. Arthur L.
Meserve, in Yankee' Blade.
Sawdust.
Little Daisy Parks (on her first visit
to her country nncle) Oh, mamma,
what a lovely place! Look at that
splendid wide field full of beautiful
flowers.
"No, child, that is common whito
weed."
"But just soo the piles of groat, big,
yellow oranges lying in the grass."
"No, dear, those aro pumpkins."
"Well, then, look at the trees full of
lovely ripe cherries."
"Those are nothing but red loaves,
my pot."
Daisy (with tears in her eyes)
Mamma, you look at tho mean side of
every thing. Next thing, you'll bo
saying I'nclo George is not ITnclo
Georgo at all; but somo horrid old
tramp. Puck.
r-.ioini;raih lu !'!- imri.
The Mexican Post-Oilico iK-partment
is alxnit to adopt a novel ueice. A
phonograph is to bo placed iu ea. Ii prin
cipal ollice in the country for the accom
modation of tho nume-roiis citizens who
can not read or write. The illiterate
Mexican will go to the post-office, talk
Lis message into tho receiver of tho
phonograph, and when the cylinder
reaches its destination the person ad
dressed w ill be sent for and the messago
will be repeated tu him by another ma
chine. llKeovril.
Burglar (soliloquizing) Well, 1 guess
that's all 1 can get here.
Waiier talking in his sleep) Haven't
you forgotten something, sir?
(L.i ii.:r,a,t--u i.uln.)-l.ie.