MIRAGE.
With milk white dome and minaret
Most fair my Promised City shone;
Beside a purple river set
The waving palm trees beckoned on,
© yon, I said, must be my goal
No matter what the danger be,
The chosen haven of my soul,
How hard soe'er the penalty.
The goa! is gained—the journey done—
Yet naught is here but sterile space,
But whirling sand and burning sun,
And hot winds blowing in my face.
—[GranaMm R. ToMsoN, in Scribuer.
A LAST RESOAT.
by a mass of hurrying clouds. A
raw, chilly wind, the ground all mud,
the tall grass and trees dripping
from heavy rains. Justemerging in-
to a dark cornfield from still
woods, a ‘young man, his
drenched and mud-stained,
haggard and desperate, and his whole
attitude as he leaned heavily a
the rail fence telling of
haustion. He was worn out.
more than two hours he had
flying for life over a country imper-
fectly known to him, though familiar
to his pursuers.
Turn which way he would, Gilbert
Hazelton could nothing before
him but speedy and disgraceful
death. Never to see the sun again,
nay, not even a friendly face! Was
this the end of the bright hopes with
which he had kissed his mother good-
by only two short months before.
He had been accused of murder,
tried for his life, found guilty and
sentenced to death, His letter to his
friends must have m ied, for
they had not come to his relief. Poor
and alone among strangers, who per-
sisted in believing him identical with
the tramp who had murdered poor
David Westford, Gilbert had yet
fought bravely for his li
had been convinced of
and his lawyer had succeeded
taining a . in which new
witnesses igh least prove
alibi.
Jut when this word went abroad,
the townspeople were furious. They
had seen more than one undoubted
eriminal escape through
nicality. Were they ne
murderer of poor David Westford
escape through the easily bought per-
jury of some worthless companions
in crime? They vowed it should
be. Last i
stern-le
clothing
his face
gn
utter ex-
For
been
see
IFCATr
e. Se
f me few
his innocence
in ob-
n
an
1
some tech-
ee the
Ww Lo =
ok
jail talkin
whisper in
ial was coming
dusk
side
self rex
violence
seize some
ery
and the
the fugi
boy, wi 3
prisoner's innocence,
demanding only a promise
him at a place appoint
self turned back to throw
guers off the trail
bert fully intended to keen his pro-
mise, but in the darkriess he missed
his way. and the bloodhounds in the
rear caught his trail.
Now for two hours, which seemed
two eternities, he had bee running
Jor life, and the unknown ry
and horrible mud had completely ex-
hausted the little strength that two
months of confinement and terrible
anxiety had left him. Nothing but
utter desperation could have driven
‘him another rod. But when a shout
came faintly from the rear he pushed
forward with a great effort across the
strip of cornfield, through the fence,
and out on a well-travelled road.
To one less utterly worn out this
would have given a glimmer of hope,
for here at least the mud had become
liquid ooze, which retained no foot-
print.
which way to turn, and must watch
both roadsides to see that he did not
turn aside. But he was too tired to
Car
relea
ed
the pur-
it possible. ail-
nte
ung
Conn
running a few rods he slipped and
fell, he lay there a full minute, too
utterly exhausted to rise.
A farmhouse stood a quarter of a
death to overtake him, his hopeless
he suddenly
resolved to make one last effort for
life.
family circle.
It took all the strength this last
faint hope gave him to carry him to
the gate and up the cinder walk,
whose hard, dark surface would be-
tray no footstep. Yet his heart failed
as he reached the door, and leaned,
utterly exhausted against the door-
post.
The window was but a ste
He crept to it and looked between
the curtains. A Jidin, neat farm-
house kitcken, and two women, evi-
dently mother and daughter, sitting
by the table before the fire, the
mother sewing, the duughter reading
aloud. No one else in sight, yet Gil-
ert gave a smothered gasp and fell
k in despair.
“David Westford's mother and sis-
ter! That settles it!”
He had seen both faces at the trial
~the elder, sad and patient under its
silvery hair; the younger pure, pale
clear-clear.cut, thrown into strong
relief by the dark eyes, long jet lashes
and heavy black braids.
away.
helpless, when there came a break
in the clear voice within, The girl
had censed reading. He looked in
A moment
come toward the door,
conscious of the man so near, gone
piteher,
bert stepped toward her.
nti? 1dd
She may pity me.
they are
heard,”’
half Quakers 1
he
sake.”
“Who spoke?’
fugitive,
ghe demanded.
utterly
air.
“" A
BR . . -
But apother glance at the pure,
pale face relieved him. BShe was
listening anxiously, and said with
hurried kindness, ‘There is an old
bed there. Look, while I hold the
light down. There! Even half an
hour's rest will help you. But you
must eat and rest in the dark, for
this cellar extends under the kitchen,
which is carpetless, and has cracks
Here comes mother.”
Yery hurriedly Mrs, Westford
passed the well-filled dish and
pitcher to him, reporting the mob
almost before the house.
“Cover up, quickly, Ernestine, I
am going to wake Harry.”
That was her youngest son,
sleeping soundly upstairs.
She hurried away, and Ernestine
still
They are close at heels. 1 can’t
farther, and I am doomed unless you
have pity
cenlment.”’
pushed back the bed.
Shut down in the darkness, Gilbert
groped his way to the old bed, and
sank down on it in utter exhaustion,
He heard the girl's quick step, the
ut his heart
Gilbert Hazel-
sinking
with a dreadful
he gave his name,
ton.”
She uttered a sharp ery and looked
nt lanterns were
the cornfield-=the
pursuers on his track.
‘1 must mother,’’
and snatching up her pitcher swept
past him into the l
He heard her quie
Westford’'s st
very des
The
haired
away where the dista
gleaming through
HRA she said,
10US8e,
k voice, and Mrs.
outery, and in
er in.
t him. white-
1 ven ““So thee can
iter of David West
ford’s bereaved m her?’ i
artled
speration followed |]
i $v
oid ther
an
In me
seek she
she said
er harmed you or
sperately.” ** As
a heaven above us, 1
what laid
be proved when my
that will be too
1 help me,
now it now,
“Thee
criminals do the
was given thee and
Why
should I save the murderer of my
I oy 7 £4
Gilbert fel
= and.
{if
is to my
Mrs.
speaks
hy innocence was not proved,
a chair ex-
“You will know
is too late if you refuse me
» will you risk it ?—risk
ou have saved an in
yut instead let him go to
I into 100
t
i to
hausted
no-
* eried the old mother
what we to do ?
MIE remorse,
t David's
break other
ough
rwe risk a lifeld
US
to
ing
h-~mother, it is mur-
take the law
authorized hands,
between man,
yt be a murderer,
a score who will surely be if we do
not hinder.”’
“Then thee says save him?"
Westiord asked, doubtfully.
‘I dare not refuse it, mother,
you?"
The old lady hesitated, then, open-
ing a corner cupboard, took out a
pair of handcuffs—relies of the days
when David had been deputy sheriff
and earned the enmity of tramps and
evildoers—and held them towards
Gilbert,
“If thee will put these on, that we
may have no fear from thy violence
when the mob are gone, we will con-
ceal thee safely, and when the search
into
tur
to
their own
lies
eho
5) re
SARK 5st
may or may n
Mrs.
Do
guardian. That all. I eannot
place myself and my daughter at the
mercy of one who may have none.
Will thee consent?’
She was only prudent. Gilbert
bowed silently and extended his
hands. It was his only chance for
life, and it would be the height of
| folly to object. Yet a faint
{ eame into his face as
snapped on his wrists, rendering him
helpless—yet scarcely more so than
fatigue had already made him,
The hesitation of both was
| now.
is
over
room.
him to follow, pausing only to thrust
the shoes out of sight.
At the door she turned. *‘It is
David's room,’ looking keenly in his
face. ‘‘Come in!"’
It was a small, plainly furnished
iroom. Mrs. Westford had drawn
{the bed from the wall and thrown
| back the last breadth of carpet, re-
{ vealing a tiny trap-door. At his en-
‘ trance she opened it, and motioned
{ him down.
“It is only four feet. You ean
drop that far,”’ said Ernestine en-
couragingly. “There Is no outer
door. You will be quite safe.”
Her mother smiled sadly. “How
many frightened fugitives Fave slept
there in safety! But that was years
ngo-before the war, Thee need not
fear. Now-=but stay, thee must be
faint. 1 will bring thee food and
drink."
She hurried away, and he swung
himself down. It was not very easy,
with his manacled hands, and ost.
tine helped him. His heart thrilled
at the touch of her cold, trembling
fingers.
“She shrinks from my touck. She
thinks my hand stained with her
brother's blood,” he thought bit-
terly. a
and a {
came
overhead,
lamplight
crack.
slender spur
down through
were stern voices
distinctly to be heard without.
nestine heard them plainly
and stood with clasped hands and
nying silently, bu oh.
the innocent, if he
there
Er-
more
#0 earnestly, that
were innocent,
her young
downsta
dering knocks at the door,
Mrs. Westford had told
more than that a crowd of
lanterns were !
was in perfect good faith
night be saved, when
brother rushing
thun-
came
re just as there eame
him no
men with
nraane!
proa
ap
pen the door and angrily
weir business. They #
that mur
brother is at large, and
{ We have
road, for
and it
ramp
we i
wr him, i
ing
and down the we Kn
looks mightily
came this way, ]
Wir prein-
Your
to our
as if he had slipped in
hidden
have no objortion
I reckon?’
“Not a bit. I don't thi he would
stop here, but if he did 1 hope you'll
catch him and hang him to the near-
est tree,’” the boy answered |
The fugitive, plainly
word, shuddered, but he
how many times that old
been vain for hun
84 would 1 h
The out buildings ‘and premises were
thoroughly searched, while Ernestine
and her mother looked on with pale
quiet faces and wildly beating hearts
and the Ni i
the darkness. The
grumbling
iethin
Sil
4
ang
ks will
186%
£1
NOINeWw Ii
searching
Herc iy
hearing
had no i
house
searched in
uls, or he ot have feared
3
i
IivAve
a tl
boy and so impetu
Mrs. Westford
to be a duty—and surely our Father
let thee suffer for doing thy
Well, go. My prayers shall
go with thee. But be careful, child.
The light wagon and bay pony stood
at the door. The prisoner was helped
nto the back seat and Ernestine
prang in before. The big watch dog
followed at her call and curled up
under her seat, and Gilbert felt that
however kindly these women might
feel the
any use
“Good-by,
will not
frat wr
aut
’
i
8
less risks,
mother. Don't fret,”
protect thee'’ showed her uneasiness,
Yet she added a kindly word to the
before all the world right speedily.’
Then they drove away in the dark-
ness. Ernestine spoke little;
heart beat too fast. She half apolo-
gized for taking the dog.
“The roads would be
readily accepted. Could he resent
his life? But he could not help being
intensely thankful that the dog had
been asleep in the barn when he ap-
proached.
Their trip was about half done
when lanterns gleametl ahead, and
proaching. “The mob!” was his
first thought, and Ernestine whis-
pered hurriedly, “Down under your
seat till they pass!’’ then with a sud-
den joyful change in tone and man-
ner, “Oh, it is the Sheriff! Thank
heavens!"
The Sheriff it was, looking anxious-
ly for his charge, but with little hope
of ever seeing him again alive. KErn-
estine turned quickly.
‘Your wrists, please,”’ and
manacles fell off. “There! You
need not tell that part unless you
wish. It was only you under
stand. Mother had a right to be
enutious, you know.”
And then the Sheriff was hailing
them, and as much surprised as de-
lighted to find his prisoner in such
hands. The transfer was soon made,
and with a kindly word of farewell,
Ernestine hastened back to her anx-
ious mother.
At the new trial Gilbert Hazelton
had no difficulty in proving his own
identity and was triu ntly aes
quitted. Of all the warm hande
and ns he received, none
the
Ernestine sald blushing. “I know
we were not over-polite to you,
mother and 1; but come again, and
you will find that we can be civil.”
And he did come—not once, but
many times—and at last carried
sweet Ernestine away as his bride.
—{Overland Monthly.
HOW MATCHES ARE MADE,
Not Matrimonial Ones,
Made to Burn.
The wood used in the manufacture
of matches is principally white pop-
lar, aspen and yellow pine. In the
United States white pine is used al-
most exclusively. It burns freely,
steadily, slowly, constantly and with
a good volume of flame. The wood
, straight grain, easily worked,
and its light weight is of
consequer in the matter
portation charges, which are usually
high on combustible articles,
For the best grade of matches the
choicest quality of cork pine is used
a vuriety of white pine, thet
ing large and well matured,
Diamond Match Company
twelve years ago secured h
of fect
cork pine timber on the waters «
pe!
but Those
is soft
no small
1 e of trunsg-
reas bi -
The
about
ydreds of
dine
ad i.
ut
ions of choice stan
f the
bid
iit
5 COImpa
sula of Michigan. ’
of 30 (00K) (EK)
rs One machine will tu
yr 5.000 000 to 10,0080 (00)
ints a day
Liles
a
hall ensue from
fone if thes
tac h the "
used in the The
separated by machinery and
each by itself in a dipping frame
which is fitted in a movable lathe,
and a number of ti
Of
placed on a machi
came
wit inflammable materi
coat #1
lathes are
{ine
Hose
i} mach
ge nach
i
nearly 1,000,000 splints in a day.
more readily absorb paraffin, which
is confined in its molten state in shal
low pans,
The first dipping covers the he ad
of the mateh sticks with the paraffin
it is covered with the igniting com-
position, different devices being use d
for this purpose. A competent per-
After the last dipping the
oe.
composition may be dried.
They are then removed from this
room and packed in boxes ready for
shipment.—{ Chicago Journal of Com
merce,
Nest of a Tres Ant.
The nests of an extraordinary tree
ant are cunningly wrought with
leaves, united together with web,
One was observed in New South
Wales in the expedition under Capt.
Cook. The leaves utilized were nx
broad as one’s hand, and were bent
and glued to each other at their tips,
How the insects manage to bring the
leaves into the required position was
never ascertained, but thousands
were seen uniting their strength to
hold them down, while other busy
multitudes were employed within in
applying the gluten that was to pre.
vent them returning back. The ob-
servers, to satisfy themselves that
the folinge was indeed incurvated and
held in this form by the efforts of the
ants, disturbed the builders at their
work, and as soon as they were driver
away the leaves sprang up with a
force much greater than it would
have been deemed possible for such
Jaborers to overcome by any combin
ation of strength. The more com
pact and elegant dwelling (E. vires.
cens is made of leaves, cut and mast.
jeated until they become a course
pulp. Its diameter is about six
inches; it is suspended among thick.
est folinge, and sustained not only by
the branches on which it hangs but
by the leaves, which are worked into
the composition and in
from its ou
onthly
JOKER'S BUDGET" |
ir |
THE
i
JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY
MEN OF THE PRESS. i
i
Dissipation » - Kitchen Mystery Solved
«The Increase of Wisdom... The
Worm had Turned--Ete. Ete.
DISSIPATION.
i
Q
“]
do nbout my husband,”’
with a sob.
“What's the matter?’ asked the |
sympathetic nightingale. {
“‘His habits are getting something
dreadful, This the
on't knowwhat I'm going to
said the owl,
'y
time |
is second
ty
day.
KITCHEN MYSTERY
BOLVE i.
Mrs. Nuwed—DBridget, why do my
dishes disappear go rapidly?
iridget-~Shure, ma'am,
they're breakfast dishes,
thinkin'.—{Truth.
: 3
its bekas«
I'm
THE INCREABE OF WIRDOM,
It nan
thirty that he begins to wra
small bill
is n
Pp Liu
i
&
fein
—{ Texas Biftings.
mane
the
MOTHER.
11 » 2 Sry 3 4
ng for 8 boy Lo do
ousers out?
a new pair,
yma: wear them
KISS FROM HER.
believe
sul?
I never stole
My wife is just
s she made me a |
undred cigars, and
th
em yet.—{]
wsi.
EXPE
sled
ue
His
brow and
hair fro
1
rip
i away
the tr
poetic fi shone
Lil i re
n his eves, although he was as yet
i
head salesman in a shoe store.
Sir.’ he exclaimed dramatically,
dear as your daughter is to me now,
I feel that she will be yet dearer.”
The old man gazed upon his son-in-
law in pity.
3 Ms boy, , he rejo
hasten to cackle. You just wait until
worn out. Dear?
ined, “I shoul
troussean is
Well, rather?
The youth
hypnosis of horror.—{ Detroit
bune.
stood transfixed in a
LEATHER THEN.
Dealer—‘"You say you used to be
in the shoe business. What do you
think of these?” :
1 can't say. You see, they only
made shoes out of leather in my
time.—| Boot and Shoe Recorder.
HONORED AND BLIGHTED,
She wore his flowers, did the maiden
gay,
That had cost him dollars ten;
She wore his flowers, but, alackaday,
She danced with other men. —{ New
York Press.
INTENTIONS.
“Dora.” said her mother to the
summer girl, “isn’t that young Mr.
his attentions !”’
“Oh, that's all right, mamma,’
said Dora. “He doesn’t mean any-
thing. We're engaged.’”’—{Chicago
Record.
BOTH IN THE CAT PAMILY.
“What kind of vessel is that?”
passing craft,
“That is a catboat,” replied the
person interrogated.
“How funny !"’ exclaimed the art.
Jess maiden, “And Isuppose,’” she
added, “the little one behind it is a
kitten boat.”
HE BECAME UNEASY.
Prof. Stone—To the geologist a
thousand years or so are not counted
wi anything at all.
Man in the Audience—Great Scott!
Ana to think that I made a tempo.
A TIABIT.
Maeude—You'd better be on the
lookout for a proposal from Charley
Doodley.
Ellen—Why* Has he exprensed
Maude-—~No, but he proposed to me
lust night and 1 refused him, —{Chi-
THE FATE HE ERCAPED,
Henpeck
newspaper,
who
(looking
to
escaped
up from his
wife)—Here's a
a pitiful fate.
his
ville last Hiram Green's
horse ran away, throwing Green from
the wagon and breaking his neck.”
Mrs, Henpeck—And you call that
escaping a pitiful fate?
Henpeck—Yes, leading) ‘Green
was on his way to Geeville to be mar-
evening,
ly.
THEY HAD
MET.
Judge (sternly )—Your face is very
Have you this
before?
been
court
but I'm a bar-
don Hotel. —{ Life
Prisoner—No, sir;
tRArai
HIE EJ
vhen you
isked |
Jack—Not
Jess—But what was it
Jack-—-Just that
BRIGHT B
xas Siftings
AB BEFORE.
andering Moses-——Are
1
M
1 othes vou had o1
p \
i rant Jke—Y es,
M.—They do
I. 1.—1've had a
—i New York Press.
A
Tea
{ between a long ton a
LITTLE MISUNDI
her-—-What
Observing Bov—The weigh
driver.—{(zo0d News.
A RU
He—Do dreams
She—Thev do.
He——Alwavs?
She=Always
HeTh
: t I prop
SE THAT FAILED
or
8
that
were
+ ant
L say
XOT NOTH
$ { don't th
pi A053 § L568
Miss Summi ink I ever
saw you looking so well.
Miss Palisade—Really?
Miss Summit-—Yes, indeed. 1 was
aarkin O YOUur me yesterday
k you had faded a
NOT ALWAYS A DRAWBACK.
‘“‘Isn’t it =a to have
treacherous memory?’
Not always. Some days ago my
wife told me not to forget to call the
veterinary physician for her poodle
or it would die. I forgot.” {Chicago
Record.
nisance
ABREXNT-MINDED.
Miss Wouldbe—By the way, have
you seen Mr. Dropoff of late?
Arthur Duncan—About two days
ago.
Miss Wouldbe-Wi il. if you see him
again, would you kindly remind him
of the fact that we are engaged?—
{ { Ledger.
NOT LOADED.
“Krupp's is the biggest
ever made, isn’t it?’
“Yes, and the earth is the largest
| revolver.”
cannon
| AN ASTUTE SALESMAN,
i
{ Got any cow bells?’ asked a
| Texas farmer, stepping into a hard-
| ware store in Dallas,
“Yes; step this way.”
“Those are too small. Haven't
you any larger?’ asked the farmer,
after he had inspected some small
cow bells,
“No sir all the largest one are
sold.”
Rusticus started off and got as far
as the door, when the clerk called
after him:
“Look here, stranger, take one of
these bells for your cow, and you
won't have half the trouble in find~
ing her, for when you hear her bell
you will always know she can’t be
far off. If you were to buy a big bell
that can be heard a long distance,
you would have to walk yourself to
death finding the cow.”
The farmer bought the bell.
{Texans Siftings.
srs oa spr
Oatmeal is excellent as nourish.
ment for the teeth, because it makes
the enamel strong, fint-like and de
cay-resisting. Bread made of whole
menl Is best, and brown bread made
oan of $10 to a man who holds
views !~{ Indianapolis Journal