LOVE AND THE ECM 'w'ill he erled a “Love me, love me, “Ever love, forever Cupid, laughing, turned aside: Echo from the hill replied, “Never, never, never." *JT.ove me, for I love but thee, Ever, love, forever, Heart tt heart for thee and me Zchosighed, “It may not be, Never, never, never.’ Ys “Love rie now in life and death, Ever, love, forever Sadly, in an under breath, Sobbing Echo answereth, “Never, never, never.” “Love me, I shall worthy prove, Ever, love, forever.” *Till a fairer face shall move!” Mocking Echo answers, “Love? Never, never, never." “Tove me,” still the lover sings, “Ever, love, forever." Cupid plumes for flight his wings As the last faint echo rings “Never, never, never.’ in Inter Ocean. — Clara B. St. George, THE DEAGON'S REVENGE. I first met the deacon under rather odd circumstances. A persistent touch of rheumatism under my left shoulder, which defied liniments and plasters, sent me to the celebrated Hot north of Boomopolis, California. The mud baths at these springs are justly celebrated for killing or curing all the ills that flesh inherits The | low, narrow bath-house was not an inviting place. It smelled too much not ciean. But rheumatism will take a man almost anywhere, and I did not shrink when 1 entered those dingy portals. The place full of steam, through which 1 glimpses of muscu en in shirt sleves, the sweat pouring their faces and their they handlea long were preparing the mud victims A long trou whole length of th with black, Ky steaming water, which sulphur was running I stooped and put my finger i uncanny out Springs, seven miles Southern Ong, was caught thelr Lrawny arms as shovels. yus odor each of a water bath, an dressing room. separated quantity o big trough s the little on a Droper con ture, the patient, who in th time has prepared himself ordeal in the sdjoining stretches himself at steam attendan terial, arranged heat, make an art patient's head alone miceral wa i come constant hrough can be Nebucha ineLz If th get the glory; if he dies, his ¢s hopeless [i start, Hardwicke would remain in these baths I enduring an ex- perience which might Killed a maw of less phlegmatic temperament Then he would try to persuade oth- ers to fellow h mple, greatly to the disgust nanagers, who were afraid that dy would die in a bath, a ui he reputation of their establishment Cor reasons li attendants Thus it hapg seemed to be des: jug the steaming pool halted foot grave and alarm, at his closed immobile features doy little t ol one of ave simiiar deacon myself on the plank that of his eyes irickled rivalets tion. ‘Will you kindly tell me what time it is?” he asked, which added to situation. “Ten o'clock’’ I said. “Want get out? I'll call the attendant.” “Time isn’t up for fifteen minutes yet,” replied the deacon. I picked up a sponge that was at hand, in a basin of cool water, and for the next fifteen minutes I bathed the deacon’s perspiring forehead with the grateful fluid Then the atten- dant came, prepared to lift the little gate at the deacon’s feet, to slide the slippery coverlet of mud off from him and back into the trough from which it had come, and to help him out of the tenacious, plastic cast that he had made in his sticky bed into the water-bath, and thence into the dressing-room, where he would in asepulchral tone, the horrors of the to put to bed between a couple of blankets, there to doze and sweat for an hour or two longer. scene. The spectacle of the deacon’s long, lank, loose-jointed figure, too horribly ludicrous. “Don’t want a mudbath ? as I turned to go. ‘Not to-day,” I replied. morrow, maybe, or next day, per. haps I'll indulge.” ‘Take them about a hundred and ten and stay in three quarters of an hour, and they will cure your rheu- matism,’’ responded the deacon, re. assuringly. Two hours later the deacon joined the other guests at the hotel, pro- fessing to be greatly refreshed by his bath. Heo was tall, awkward and angular, yet dignified. His upper lip was smooth shaven, but on his chin was a heavy, grizzled. growth of beard. His way of speech was so slow and golemn as to seem afflicted. I was told he was a 'dler’; that his title of deacon was only honorary, having originally been bestowed by his as- gociates in the mines and e¢linging to him through many changes of for- tune: and that his businss was real estate. He was said to be very clever in working off acrenges of cactus bed, sage brush and hillside upon new comers. His ungainly, honest pearance favored him, and he could look the prospective purchaser in the eye and weave the most remark- a quiver of his clerical features. We became fast friends, and 1 found him an interesting study. It was the deacon’s custom to make frequent trips to Boomopolis on busi- To reach the Springs the traveler crosses five miles of desert country, where the night Then he climbs ‘“‘the grade,’”’ a rise of a thousand feet in two way is over a miles. This part of the nountain road which skirts precipices and winds and out among in a way that makes timid people dizzy. At this time the great Southern California had lapsed and numbers of men who had lost all their money found themselves in a strange land, penniless and As a result par robbery, was rampant, ht, beautif Deacon Hardwi tel. That mornir cured at RBoomopolis a and a driver, and had in canons boom in just COL jess crime, noon 4 t § 1 ine i 1; 4% $ 4 i are point different s wh i aving completed tion he was driven to tl grade, and there he team. No one this afterall [ardwicke He was » aeross the Wis in mans} himself been more than once armed he would afterward assured me. maniy him. address wounde Come,’ a more threatening tons Drop your money, or I'll 1 and sl What he al to this recital. Then he turned and ran down the grade, His hat bobbed off and his long coat tails fluttered out behind. It was an undig- nified and risky proceeding. but there seemed no help for it, except to give up his money and the deacon did not consider that fora moment, The highwayman fired twice, and the deacon afterward stated that the balls whistled in close proximity to his head. The shots flustered him. He stumbled, tripped and fell. He bruised nis shins and tore the skin from his wrists. The wallet flew from his hand and he lay in the road, howling with rage and pain. The maraunder advanced leisurely and picked up the wallet. Just then the stage, which was was a trifle late, as usual, rolled slowly around the turn in the road. The deacon’s ns- sailant leaped down the steep bank of the canon and rolled headlong among the chaparral. He regained his feet, said is at the bottom of the canon, and dis- other side. The deacon lifted the reach of effective pursuit, fairly screamed with impotent fury. stage which picked him up and brought him to the hotel did not tend was all a fake,” shots.” *‘More scared than hurt.” These were some of the whispered comments that came to the deacon’s ears. But he sat glum, indignant and silent until they reached the house, Then he drew me aside, and I helped him put court plaster on his never have [ don’t mind disgrace that I was care- gun that fellow would got out of there alive, the pain. {t's the lon't seo how tears in hig eyes. “Still.” 1 suggested, ‘as I under. stand it, he had the drop on you be- m. Perhaps it is just as well you did not have your gun. He might have killed you. “Possibly,” said the deacon; I would have fired as long as 1 have crooked a finger. Now 1 he a laughing stock as long es I live The boys will think it rich—simply ich.’ “Ds you think you would know the fellow should you see him again?’ 1 asked. ‘I shoul “but could shall { know him anywhere. He is short and wiry, dark hair, mus- tuche, no beard, black eyes. And there is a great, red, flaming scar across his cheek—knife wound, I reckon.” “I'll tell you what we'll do,’’ 1 said. ‘'Let us go to Boomepolis and find him. He will soon hat there is no pursuit and will certainly a0 there Perhaps we can arrest him yet. The deacon grasped both « and wrun ached “*How can hank y« claimed : "o' ro to-night if we him you will prettiest fight of your life I prepar yself for the exped tion by donn an old suit of clo and leaving my valuables at I had a erpetual winding bury watch hunting « son 1 my hand ff his, it until wm? he catel 8e0 me, 4iso $l plain, but se procured ho and rode ir with no wwements : I } i globe undre § ing when I heard voice, at I eagle from the deacon, 't but distinct say up, i i 114 of the room, ‘Hands please (tlancing around, I standing ai the door leading to the bar, with a revolver in hand pointed at us. He was a short, slight man, with dark hair and a flaming scar across his face, There was no confusion, of the 'oungers quietly placed his back against the door leading to the cigar store and drew two revolvers, which he pointed along the table. Two others, evidently also, gentiomen gentiomen, saw 8 Inan each Une confederates stood at ense awaiting the nextorder. The rest of us lifted our hands sim- ultaneously. Any one could see that it was the only thing to do. The deacon’s face was white as snow and Lis jaws were set like a steel trap. “The gents that are seated will kindly rise,’”’ said the voice near the door : The gamblers rose as one man. “Now then. Everybody right about and face the wall,” was the next command. We faced about. “March,’' said the cool, emphatic voice, "Two feet from the wall stop.” as directed, ranged against the walls, the gold into a couple of little sacks which they produced fromm their pockets, ‘Keep your hands up, everybody," came a quick and sharp warning from the door, as some one inadvert- ently © lowered his arms a tritle “Wa're not through with you yet.’’ the voice added. table, the brigands proceeded to rob our persons. With a great show of politeness they requested us to give up our watches, money and weapons I was one of the first tocomply. The fellow tossed my revolver and my few silver dollars into sack, and grabbed at my wateh Just then there was a crashing, explosive sound, deafening in the narrow confines of the room--then another—another and another. Then came darkness, a quick rush of feet, v tumult of shouts and groans. It was the deacon, of course. | it before the welcome, hurried arrival of men from outside, with lanterns. He had “turned loose’ at the leader. They had exchanged three or four shots before the light ariot his Knew went out, quickly and myst th the BACKS an I'he men wi money were was bending over stretched upon t an eager wolf lig gone but the forn still held of th yackward ar i to throat. himself upon hand finger other § i a icaliy i nee gluteh the the The fs his ell tne man You've h YOu will ‘I have given ral That's write to the ol thing."--Argonaut CASY i ¢ i 3 An Olid Soldier's Experionce Speaking of grews me thi old soldier told me yesterday most affecting parting he ev his life It was 0 parting self, or rather a part of was in an engagement burg, and had the misfortune come in contact with a piece of broken shell, which exploded near him and which succeeded in shatter. ing his leg. Amputation was neces. sary. and shortiy after he was lying in his tent. As he looked up he saw a wagon piled up with legs and arms of others who had been unfor. tunate in the engagement, and right on the top he recognized his own himse; before Peters. to “It was a sad parting.’’ he said, ‘to see a part of you going away never to be returned again, { ean came over me, and to this day I can eg away to its last resting place. Wounded in an Odd Way. A farmer of East Monmouth, Moe. wound which he received in an odd way. He was leading a frolicsome colt and the animal whirled round and kicked, striking him over his hip pocket, in which was a loaded re- volver, The pistol was discharged and the bullet lodged ia the calf of the farmer's log, inflicting a severe wound Apache Legend Which Accounts for the Red Man's Ceremonial Custom... “Why do Indians paint their faces?’ I have asked that question of hundreds of Red Men, and have received but one answer. Of all the tribes that I have visited but one has a legend accounting for the hideous decorations that are to be seen on the faces of Indians under all ceremonial circumstances. ‘1 was sitting at a camp fire in a village of Jacarilla Apaches night listening to the stories and legends that were being told, when I propounded the old question again, hardly expecting even the usual ex- pression of ignorance that hides so many of the thoughts of the Indis one To my surprise, however, I receiv the answer that | says a writer in the St Democrat t least expec Louis Globe- “*An old fellow who had ng to the g his attitude he evening stories without changin grunted and straightened heard the Proce lue solemnity, he told 1isteni question. when men big and Hed Men wi antains went ago BiG COAL PILES They Are Worth from %36,000 te $40,000 Apiece, oal was allowed 1 of cars in the may be seen the size of a immense pi ATE circus ies train Inad reaches as fad i Ars are : n Laes means of devi of traveling elevator |} n by la coal placed an ingenious i id in positio srrick en. : the out. sr the cars and is carried to sf the heap by means of the Here it lies until vading, when it is reloaded by means of the same nd transferred to the the coasting steamer or tramp ocean steamer. As a rule, the piles usually con- tain about 9,000 tons each, and each is worth $36 000 to $40,000, accord- ing to the market value of the coal At times there are twelve of fourteen of these coal piles in the yards at South Amboy. Recently canvas has been used to cover each pile to pre- vent the coal from ‘‘rusting.’’ which, while not affecting its burning qual- ities, detracts from its market value. The canvas covers cost £1,000 and $1,200 each, and the stock-yard looks ns though Barnum’s Circus had found a permanent camping place. The immense piles of coal create no feeling of wonder to the local resi. lents, who look upon them as a matter of course, but they are a source of great wonderment to the residents of the city, whose concep- tion of a large amount of coal is at best vague. elevator. in the apparatus hold of Cars NATION OF TOBACCO USERS, Every Man, Woman and Child. It is evident from the internal revenue receipts from the consump tion of tobacco that we are a nation of chewers, smokers and snuffers, This is discouraging to those who rail againgt the vice, but then they have the satisfaction of knowing that the indulgence costs the smoking Just how expensive it is to use tonacco cannot be easily as- certained, butit may be gauged from the fact that the revenue from tobacco alone during the vear 1894 was $28,617,805, 62 : Surely a nation that can afford to expend such an amount in taxes on tobacco—tor of course the tax comes from the consumer--to say nothing of the cost of the material, muss have money to burn. That, of course, is its end—burned up up or snuffed And despite the magni tude of the sum the internal revenue tax from tobacco in 1804 shows a de- crease from that of $£3.271,~- 818.12 nat rally yi fiscal chewed up. 1 1893 of In one way and of the United States of tobaeco 4 ! igures show the of est imated about 344 000 000 year 1804 AR) pot tiation per annum for i child Or A LUCKY ACCIDENT. Why a ""Jackstone'' Maker Turned His Attention to Puzzles. havo ters of Why Her Husband Never Forgot. Two married ladies it their respective your asked one. said the other. I think there r a day when he comes home nine does office that he doesn’t begin logize for his forgetfulness course, 1 have to accept the apol- yn his promise to do better, and ext day the very same thing must be extremely annoy. Sometimes 1 get so vexed with him that I really have to scold him. “*And that never is pleasant.” **1 should say not. 1'm sure I'd rather be anything else than a scold, but some husbands actually drive their wives to it. 1've been married ten years, and sometimes I almost fear if he doesn’t improve he will have my temper utterly spoiled.” “I've been married a dozen years and I never have any such trouble.” “Maybe your husband is an excep- tion?’ “No; he's only average as married men go." “Wasn't he ever forgetful?” “He was at first, but I cured him ““Giracious! I think mine is incur~ able.” **Oh, no. Youoan cure him easily “I'm sure I'll be only too glad to. ‘*Never ask him to get anything Get it vourself. He has “Oh!” exclaimed the first woman, The value of Montana, mines and
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers