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F. IOHWEIER,
THE OOWtfl'lT U TION-THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS.
VOL. LII.
MIFFLINTOW1N, JUNIATA COUNTY. FENNA.. WEDNESDAY. JUNE 8. 1898
NO. 26.
wn it i ; ; - ik i tu
T
1
OlIAITEK XIV (Continued.;
It is not acting, though a good deal, olj
ft is temper; she would never bring in .
that sacred name for the sake of getting
her own way. But the effect is nirSTcal
sn Tom; remorse stirs his heart; he re
calls all the tender injunctions of that ;
4ond mntboi- nltriiit her rinrlillir and hia 1
n ill is broken like a reed at the remem- j
brance. It is true he is all she has; he
Is her defender, her support, her shield
gainst trouble and sorrow; it is not for j
him to thwart and grieve her. She la
Jearer than ever, though her lover's first '
passion may have worn off; she shall b j
appy. cost what it may! I
He kneels beside her, he pours ont every
tndearing word he knows upon her, he .
covers her hair, her throat for her face '
averted from him with kisses, he prom
ises her that he will go and fetch little
Tom to-morrow, and in due course Jane,
half-triumphantly, bnt secretly a good
leal ashamed of herself, is lying with her
head on Tom's breast, his arms about her,
tnd all his kind, honest heart bent on
restoring her to peace of mind and happt
less.
In the morning, when her maid brought j
er tea and letters, she eagerly opened
the one from her lord. Having finished
It, she laid it down, and a cold chill came
ver her. She stared blankly Into apace
tor a minute or two, then took it np and
fe-read:
"Darling Wifey. I got down here at
right, and fonnd the boy all right except
l little bit flushed, and" (here two letters
(asily deciphered to be A" were
scratched out) "we thought he might
have another tooth coming, bnt, anyhow,
ire thought It better to wait a day and
lee. Don't be frightened, darling; he i
In capital spirits, and I hope to bring him
op to-morrow, though I do hate the idea
f London for him. I hope the dinner
will go off all right. Of course yon will
ay and do the right thing about me.
ind I dare say as long as they get yon
they'll be vey happy to dispense with my
company. You can't think how heavenly
tt la down here after London. I've got
n an old shooting-coat, and I feel as
' happy as a king; at least I should, darling,
f I bad you here.
"I had to break off here to see Jones,
tnd he tells me there are two or three
things I ought to see to to-morrow.
Should yon mind if we don't come up till
Friday? It will give the boy another
lay's respite, and yon can go about and
ee your friends and amuse yourself for
that little time longer, can't you, dearest
ivifey?
"Always your most loving and devoted
tusbaud, T. N."
When she had read that affectionate it
tot well-expressed epistle, all pleasure and
hnpplness took flight from June's heart.
She waa nothing to Tom; he could dis
pense perfectly with ber society, as long
is he had the baby, and the country, and
&U old shooting coat, and with a fierce
tpasm A gncs.
June glanced at the clock; the hand
Te just on the hour of nine impossible
to catch the ten train; but there was an
jther at eleven, which Ktopped 'at a station
lix miles from the Hall. She rang the
bell, sent for a form and wrote a tele
iraui desiring that a carriage might nxv t
her at j , dispatched" a line to her
mother-in-law, and, with a mixture of
triumph, defiance and anger in her breast,
let out on her journey to bring back the
truant.
CHAPTER XV.
Jane had a fine spirit, and it was now
roused to the uttermost. During her
lourney in the train she made a great ef
fort to conquer the anger that waa seeth
ing and bubbling up in her heart anger
partly excited by Tom, but chiefly by
Alines.
When they reached the house Lad;
Sevil signed to the driver to let her out
before he rang the bell. The hall door
Ras ajar and she ran first into the niorn-mg-room.
A pleasing sight greeted hor
through the window. Tom was sitting on
i garden-chair, with the boy in his arms.
Agnes was kneeling at their feet,
Singling something in front of the baby's
jos.
It was too much for poor June. She
ind just time to say to the footman, who
?ainc
ne rushing in great surprise tnrnugn
hall, "Tell fir Thomas I have gone
the
u
my room, and she Hew upstairs, locked
the
door to keep uer uiaiu or any ui-
trudf
ilcr but loin om, aim uursi i;nu
nnra Khi wns thitrniiirhlv mi
puMou Ul i - "
let; Bhe felt that she had made a fool of
Serself, and that she would appear in the
rery worst possible light before the eyes
f the man she loved.
She heard Tom flying np the stairs,
ind had just time to unlock the door
xlicn he burat is with an astonished but
learning face.
Then that happens to her which fre
luently happens to high-spirited, inipul
live people; she doef the very thing
(gainst which she has csutioned herself
which she has resolved most positively
that she will not do. She reproaches Tom
Tor leaving her, for his letteifc for his in-
; rr..,-ona in having remained away from
Ser, for his untruthfulness in prefemMng
the child was ailing, and, last ana crawn
Ing folly, for which she is furious wth
herself "even while she is committing it,
ilie twits him with preferring the societ
jf Agnes to her own.
Tom stands overwhelmed and silent, not
because he is convinced of guilt, but be
rause he is shocked at this outburst fro:,
his wife.
t,.. n-ont otnnmilv ont nnd downstair?
jot forgetting first to order luncheon to ' .
t. i.t up immediately. 1'uor little gir.. n
doubt she was overdone; but that did not
q.:iie account for nnd excuse tbe bitu r
....i ....inut things sl had said to him
fie went out on the lawn, where Agnea
(i ns playing with Tom junior and exhib
iting increased fervor ana aevouon w
Hard him.
Tnr ..Imn- lima " MTU A UnCS.
iweetly. "How unluckyl But what made
her come I Was it because ane was
inxious about this treasure? OhTom,
( begged you to be careful not to frighten
er."
Tom has taken his heir from her axnu
ind is nroceedlnir toward the house.
June baa recovered herself. She baa
flinched hn find her MAT ont and DOW
teela herself quite capable of behaving
MM roRRECTtmJ
the has resolved In the train, to the
Immense relief of Sir Thomas, who has
been longing but not daring to beg an
audience for his cousin, she aaka In quite
an amiable tone it Agnea is still there
tnd volunteers to go down and see her.
Sir Thomas and Lady Nevil have dined.
tnd are sitting at the open window in her
ladyship's boudoir. June la on his knee,
with one arm round hia neck, and a little
vhltB Imad iannr In his.
"Klaa me, darling," she aaye, and he,
o thing loath, obeys.
I waa naughty to-day," she proceeds,
with a charming, contrite little air, "and
Km I am sorry
Sir Thomas gives a aqneese to her slim
waist to Intimate that whatever she has
lone is condoned, and that no more need
1e laid atv '
"Do yon think I have a bad tern per 7"
eoaxiDgly.
"No, my pet. certainly not. But," diffl.
lently, fancying, good, honest sonl, that
he Is peaklng a word In season, when he
s domg exactly the reverse, "I think yon
rere a little hard on poor Aggie.
June aits bolt upright in a moment.
"Don t mentis n her name" she says,
to a tone of exasperation. Then, check
taa herself, and sinking back on hit
iboulder, "Let us forget that she or any
body else exists In the world bnt onr
elves."
"Except the boy," amends Tom.
"Except the boy, of course," says June
milling. "Let ns go and look at him
hall we?"
And as, a minute later, Tom standi
ith his arm round hia beautiful wife,
looking at the cherub face of their child
weetly asleep, he offers up a reverent
thanksgiving, and something for the mo
ment prevents his seeing that lovely pic
ture quite clearly,
If there were only no such place aj
London!
CHAPTER XVI.
The Nevil family have been established
n London for the space of a fortnight
Tom junior Is in the most robust health
tnd spirits, and seems vastly amused and
Interested with all he sees. He is nearly
nine months old, and is not only a beauti
ful and good-tempered infant, but bas the
most intelligent face in the world. He
is, to Tom's intense delight, the living
image of his mother; nay, Tom Is almost
iffronred if anyone pretends for civility'
lake that bis heir resembles himself,
Dallas, who is a frequent guest in Eaton
Square, mischievously asks June if she
thinks Tom is making love to the nurse,
from whom he seems inseparable, ami
declares to Tom himself that no doubt
he is taken for a Life-guardsman in plain
clothes. Dallas and June are the best of
friends; they have both completely for
rotten that episode tnree years ago. l-oi
Dallas Is absorbed In his hopeless pnssioc
for Lady Jane Wyldrose, daughter of tlit
Earl of Sweetbner; hopeless, not as fa
s the young lady herself is concerned
but only as regards her parents.
It wanted two daya to the loth of Jnm
when Madge waa to join her cousins ii
London. Lady Nevil came in from bei
drive in radiant spirits; she bad spent i
delightful day, and was looking fomar
to one of the balls of the season, to In
piven that night. Her maid met her in the
mil with a scared face.
"Oh, my lady, don't be alarmed," slit
-mid, while her look and maimer were
i-iiongh to terrify a nervous nnd imngina
live person to death, "but Master Tom
has lici-ii taken ill. Sir Thomas and tlx
Ux-tor are with him now."
June's heart stood still, her kneci
knocked together. In one iustnnt tin
thought traversed her brain that her own
sellishiK'ss was the cause of this awfi:'
i-ahiiuity, thnt the child would die, thai
he would never forgive herself, tl-at Tom
would never forgive her. Then, without
wait ipg for another word, she flew ui
ita:rs to the nursery.
Tom stood by the bedside with an agon
zed fa . The doctor w as lx-iuling ov-i
the cliilil. who was waxen pale and nit!
loscd eyes.
A sort of paralysis crept over Jniir
Tom diil not move forward to greet her
his eyes, having met hers ns she enteri' 1
returned to their agonized watch. Sli
vent mechanically toward him.
"What is it?" she whispered.
1 knew it from the first.' he mutter-en
"I always said s. I knew London woi:!i
' r the death of him."
A sense of guilt nnd despair stole ove
June. Ten minutes ago there had sc:-.ri
!y been n happier woman living than she
niril now terror nnd misery ingulfed her
evi-ry pleasant thing in life seemed irre
lievnlily g.ine from her forever.
All night she and Tom watched by th.
il.'Vs cut. Not satisfied with one opiu
ii:iT, Ti.ni sent for the first physician i
l.ondM'. He, too, looked grave, l.r
poI e renrsiiringly and hoped tl e bo.
mV-'l n favorable turn.
Once during if at long ai:d misei-niil-.
U;!.t Iiiue went anil put her arms rmm
'i r husband's ne and leaned on h
:,n-ast with stilled .-!. and be clas e
cr kiudlt'. but she felt iiistiuctivelv l In
be was holding ber responsible for this
iwful calamity.
When she was alone for a moment witl
the doctor she asked him in Imploring
tones whether London was the cause of
the child's illness, and he answered dis
tinctly in the negative. It might have
hanoened anywhere.
But Jnne did not dare even to say this
to Tom: she knew it would be waste of
time and energy to attempt to convince
him, ao firmly waa his mind fixed on this
one idea. Oh, please God, they should
get the boy over this, and never, never
again should be set foot in tne aecursea
slty!
Yonna Tom got over the crisis, and.
with his father and mother, returned to
the Hall on the fifth day after his at
tack. Though most of the servants were
left behind in Eaton Square it was almost
sn understood thing that neither Sir
Thomas nor her ladyship would go back
there. Sir Thomas was perfectly certain
that he wonld not, and her ladyship did
not feel as though, after the misery of
those few days, she should ever care to
see London again. It was only by Mrs.
Ellesmere's persuasion that they decided
DQt to fly JIB the hon IBti OPT tbt
whole establishment back at dooe to the
Hall.
In a week'a time Tom Junior was re
stored to his usual robust health, and Tom
senior to happiness and his wonted level
spirits. He felt like a prisoner let loose;
It waa almost worth while to have suf
fered the discomfort to enjoy this blessed
freedom.
June, her mind being reassured about
ber child, began to feel somewhat dull.
and to think with a certain regret of the
pleasant things she had left behind; and
as for Madge, her eyes were red with
crying, and she wore a woebegone look
quite unusual to her- bright face.
'I know I am very silly and very self
ish," she said to June one day, "but it
has been such an awful disappointment
to me."
And with this she burst into tears. Tom
came, Q at She same moment.
'Why, Madgyr he cried, with sincere
concern, "what s the matter, my aear.-
"I'oor child, answered June, she is so
disappointed about her visit to London."
The same evening at dinner &ir 1 nomas
observed to her ladyship:
"I've been thinking it over, Juny, ana
it seems rather a shame to disappoint
Madge, poor little girt Why should not
you go back to town with ber for a fort
night or three weeks? The servants and
horses are there doing nothing, and we
shall have to pay for the house all the
same. And," looking at her, "you enjoy
it so much yourself, it seems a pity you
should be don. out of It."
"I do not feel as if 1 should care for tl
now," June answered.
Tom, however, broached the subject to
Madge: implored and entreated so earn
estly that her ladyship yielded. It is un
derstood that Tom will uot accompany
them, or even go up to Ixmdon for a sin
gle day, and this in June's eyes deprives
the prospect of any pleasure.
Once there, however, Madge Is so wild
ly pleased and happy that her spirits are
infectious, and June, if half the gilt is
stripped from ber gingerbread, still man
ages to be tolerably happy and amused.
Juue and Madge were particularly fond
of the play. One evening Colonel Alford,
Mrs. Ellesmere's brother, snd Dallas were
to dine with them and take them to set
a popular piece.
Just before dinner a note came by
hansom for Lady Nevil.
"Will you excuse me from dining?" h
ssid. "I will join yon at the play. I am
so very sorry, and hope I am not putting
'ou to inconvenience."
This waa from Dallas.
The piece had begun some time before
be made his appearance, and June was
startled to see how white and unlike him--wit
he looked.
"Are you 111?" she whispered, as be sat
sown by ber. "Why did you come, if you
don't feel up to it?"
"I am all right," be answered In the
same key. "At least, I hope so. I hsv.
bad rather a facer. Don't, like an angel,
tsk me any questions."
Certainly he was not at all himself, nor
did he exhibit his usual spirits during the
whole evening. He sat gnawing the ends
of his mustache and looking intensely
preoccupied, and June, who bad a good
deal of tact where her affections were not
engaged, left bim to himself, and be
tween the acts talked chiefly to her other
companions.
"What a bore you must have found
me!" Dallas whispered, aa he put her into
her liiougham. "I am awfully sorry. If
I coufd tell you, I know you would feel
for me."
"Nothing about Lady Jane," I hope?"
she said in the same key, for he had con
fided in her occasionally on tbe subject
of his last love.
"No," he answered, "nothing to do with
her; at least, I hope not."
(To be continued.)
A Shoplifter's Skirt.
"Did yon ever see a shoplifter's i
iklrt?" asked a detective who Is em
ployed In a large department store of
an acquaintance, and then produced a
singular looking garment which had
been taken off a shoplifter. "The wom
an who bad this skirt this kick, as
they call It on had 48 different articles
In her possession, stolen from this store.
Bhe was walking In the street about
two blocks away when we overtook
her. Here Is a list of the things she
bad managed to secrete: Nine pairs of
kid gloves, 6 pocketbooks, 6 pairs of
mite, 6 pairs of stockings, pins. 1 pully
for a wash line, a lock, 3 knife rests, 2
plates, 4 bells, 2 pairs of scissors, 1 can
opener, 1 glass plfcber, earrings, 1 small
basket, 1 small clock, 1 mouse trap and
2 oil burners; $10 worth In all."
The skirt was simply a black calico
walking skirt, with a double lining fast
ened firmly to tbe outside at the bot
tom and secured at the waist with two
strong belts. There were capacious
openings at convenient points, and tbe
skirt was worn beneath the outside
skirt, which had a long slit In the full
pleats to correspond with the opening
'a the garment beneath.
Matrimonial Progress.
"Did you ever," asked the young hus
band, "have your wife look you In the
eye when you came home and ask you
'i you had not forgotten something?"
"Many a time, my boy," answered the
old married man. "She does yet. In
the early days it used to mean a kiss,
but now it Is usually a reference to wip
ing my sb"" "
Frauds la tbe Brute Creation.
Humbugs are by no means confined
to the human species; they figure
among tbe lower animals as well. At
least, one who has studied closely their
habits says so. In military stables
horses are known to have pretended
to be lame In order to avoid going to a
tnilttary exercise. A chimpanzee bad
been fed on cake when sick; after his
recovery be often feigned coughing in
order to procure dainties. Animals are
Ironsclous of their deceit, as la shown by
the fact that they try to act secretly
'and noiselessly; they show a sense of
guilt If detected; they take precautions
in advance to avoid discovery; In some
rases they manifest regret and repent
ance. Thus bees which steal hesitate
often before and after their exploits, as
If they feared punishment But at all
this kind of thing man leaves hia fel
tow-animals far behind.
Spots on tbe Finger Nails.
The little wnite spots which some
times appear on the finger nails are due
co some subtle action of the blood, upon
which all the bones, sinews, muscles,
and organs In the body are dependent
for nutrition. They sometimes disap
pear of their own accord, but there la
no known cure. In reality, they signify
no derangement of the system.
CARS MADE OLEAN WITH WIN a
Pne.aa.tic Device TJ.ed tm Saata Fa
Tarda la Chlcasjo.
If the average housekeeper who baa
bad more or less unpleasant experience
with the old-fashioned broom could
drop down Into the Santa i'e yards, at
17th street, almost any morning she
would behold a sight that would set
ber wild with envy. She would be as
tonished by a performance that she
might think little short of miraculous.
She would see a man walking tip and
down a strip of carpet at the side of a
Pullman palace car and accomplishing
a feat apparently far beyond the mas
terpiece of the greatest prestldiglta
teur, to her way of thinking. The man
might point out what the woman would
call "a long stick with a broad end" at
the carpet and straightway dust would
fly from the surface In Immense clouds
a t least It would If there was any dust
In the carpet. .
This peculiar and Interesting opera,
tlon has been going on down in tbe
Santa Fe yards for nearly two years,
but It la nevertheless almost unknown.
What the housekeeper would call a
long stick with a broad end Is an Iron
pipe with a spreading brass nozzle
through which compressed air rushes
under a pressure of seventy pounds to
the square Inch. The upper end of the
pipe is inserted la rubber hose which
leads from an air-compressing ma
chine. Tbe workman takes In band the
pipe, which la between four and five
feet la length, and, placing the brans
noazle within an Inch of the surface of
the carpet, be walks down It length
passing tbe Instrument over every
square Inch of the ouvet. The brass
noszle Is about three Inches wide, and a
narrow aperture through which the air
escapes extends" from one side to tbe
other. This aperture la almost as long
as tha noitle to wide, but It is only
about one-fourth of an Inch In width.
Tbe air escapes with such force thai
wherever It strikes the carpet the dust
Is blown out so cleanly that a profes
sional carpet beater would find It Im
possible to extract another particle.
The unique device Is used not only to
clean the carpets outside of the cars,
but to clean the entire Interiors of the
cars as well. For the Interiors a small
er pipe and nozele are used and a long
er hose Is attached. Tbe workman
passes around tbe Inside of the car
pointing the nossle at every spot which
be wishes to cleanse. He doesn't hare
to point It long at any one spot before
the air bas effectually cleared the sur
face of all dirt that Is loose.
There Is no patent oh the Invention,
which seems to have been perfected by
a process of evolution. Anybody who
has the desire and the money to pay for
the machinery has the contrivance at
his disposal. It hi now used In several
of the railroad yards of the city and has
proved universally satisfactory. Tbe
device la especially excellent for the
removal of dust and dirt from corners
and crevices which cannot well be
reached with a broom. The air can,
of course, be thrown Into any place Into
which dust can drift and the dirt be
blown out without the least difficulty.
In sleeping cars there are many places
In which the compressed air system Is
found to be a great improvement oror
old methods. The cleaning of the m
per berths was always accomplished
with much trouble until the alT con
trivance was adopted, but since then
the work bas been done with ease nnd
dispatch. The workman simply pnus
down the berth, and. reaching In with
his pipe, he pokes about In every nook
and corner until he can no longer blow
any dust from the berth. Then he
knows it Is clean and he passes to the
next one. All of the upholstery, as well
as the floor, celling, etc.. Is of course.
cleaned more easily than the berths.
The cleaning can be done at practical
ly any distance from the air-conipress-
hig machine. A long line or nose leans
from the machine, or, perhaps, more
often the compressed air is carried in
Iron pipes to the various points where
the cars are brought to be cleaned. The
rubber hose Is thn attached to the plpa
line near the car and the air turned on.
A stop cock on the pipe line controla
the passage of the air into the hoaa
and another at the top of tbe four-foot
pipe controls its exit from the nozzle.
The hose Is always long enough to per
mit a workman to walk the entire
length of a palace car. Chicago Chron
tele. The Etiquette of It.
An escaped criminal who had killed
a friend In a quarrel wrote home from
a distant city:
"Dear Tom Tell the guvner ef he'll
pardon me I'll come home an surren
der." The "Tom" referred to was nis oroiu-
r. who replied as follows:
"Dear Bill I understana mat tno
governor to on a visit to your city at
this wrltln. You'd better call on him.
nt nn ver card an' Interview him
verself."
The above brougnt taw nniqu. re
sponse by postal card:
"Dear Tom I ain't callin this year.
It wouldn't be etiquette, seeln' as I'm
In mournln for the friend I killed!"
Chicago Times-Herald.
Fall of aa Aerolite.
At Delhi, N. V an aerolite Tecently
fell aa a ball of fire and penetrated the
earth six feet Steam poured from tbe
hole In volumea. The aeroHte to In the
shape of a ball. It weighs two pound
and fourteen ounces and measures a
foot and three Inches la circumference.
It is composed of white and yellow
stones, varying in sice. All the stones
are square, with a smooth surface, and
as clearly cut aa If made by workmen.
They are of various colors and resem
ble diamonds.
America's Oyster Product.
Of the 35,000,000 bushels of oysters
consumed throughout the world every
year, this country supplies 80,000,000
bushels.
Boarding Bouse Keeper How sorry
I feel for those poor Klondike miners
this cold weather! Boarder Madam,
there to no need of going so far to place
your sympathy. Ton seem to forget
that I occupy one of your hall roomaw
Judge. Young men ht society pay a terrfbW
nric far tbe sake of sitting V let.
eating a dab of ice cream and cake,
taking a alH
Household.
RECIPES.
How to Cook a Fowl. A delicious way
to cook chicken is as follows: Cut what
the market men call a roasting fowl, as
fur fricasseeing, put it in a saucepan with
water to the depth of about four inches;
add a mad i urn size onion cnt in halves; a
stalk of celery and two or three sprigs
of parsley. Cover the kettle tight, stand
it over a modi-rate fire and after the
chicken has cooked for half an hour sea
son it with salt. Cover it again and let it
cook till perfectly tender. In the mean
time put in another saucepan two well
rounded tablespoonfuU of butter, stand
it over the fire till it bubbles and then
add a piled up tablespoonful of flour and
stir it to a paste, but do not let it burn.
When it is well blended stir ia the yolks
of two raw eggs till perfectly blended.
Ueat a pint and a half of rich milk to the
boiling point, then pour it in the sauce
pan with the butter and flour, stirring it
briskly to keep it from lumping or curd
ling. Stand it over the fire, stirring it all
th time, and just as it begins to bubble
add the chicken to it and let it stew fur
about five minutes in the sauce, then
servo on a platter varnished with sprigs
of parsley and hard-boiled eggs cut in
quarters.
Strawberry Charlotte. Li ne a plain
round mold with ripe strawberries by
burying the mold in ice to the rim, and
dipping the strawberries in calf's foot
jelly, first covering - the bottom with
them cut in halves, the cut side down
ward afterward building them up the sides,
the jelly (which must be cold, but not set)
causing them to adhere; when finished,
fill it with the cream as directed for the
charlotte russn, and when ready to serve
dip the mold in warm water and turn it
out upon the dish, The cream must be
very nearly set when you pour it in, or
it will run'bctweeu the straw berries and
produce a bad eifect.
Cheese Balls. Chop half a pound of
good American cheese; add to it one pint
of soft bread crumbs, a dash of cayenne,
a teaspoonful of salt mix, ami add two
eggs unbeaten. Form into balls the size
of an English walnut. Dip in beaten egg,
then in crumbs, and fry in smoking hoi
fat.
Cocoanut Drop Cakes. Cream well to
gether one-half of a cupful of butter and
one cupful of sugar; add the beaten yolks
of two eggs, then alternately one-third of
a cupful of milk and two rupfuls of sifted
flour. Heat well until smooth, add one
scant teaspoonful of vanilla, one-quarter
of a teaspoonful of salt, one heaping cup
ful of grat.nl cocoanut, the stitny whipied
whites of the eggs and one heaping tea
spoonful of baking powder. Heat for a
moment and drop by the spoonful on well
greased pans. Flours vary so much that
it may be necessary to aim one or no
spoonfuls more than the recipe calls for
. . . . .... i i i
to keep them in snape. v nen uacu inu
cold put away in a stono jar.
Othellos and Dcsdemonas. Make a
plain cake with four ounces of butter,
half a pound of castor sugar, four eggs.
half a pint of milk, one pound of the lxst
Hungarian flour and a teaspoonful and a
half of baking powder. Beat the butter
to a white cream, add the sugar, the well-
beaten yolks of the eggs, the siiteu Hour
and the baking powder, and last of all
Mir lightly in the stiffly beaten whiles of
the eggs. Bake in small, wen ounereu
patty pans for about fifteen minutes.
When the little cakes are cold pour sorno
melted chocolate over half of them, and
over the other half some white icing; set
them aaidA for a short time to hanl.-n.
and then Coat the' white cakes with melted
chocolate and the dark ones with white
icing. The result is a very delicious
kind of chocolate-cream icing.
Rhubarb Custard Pie. One-half pint of
finery chopped rhubarb, spread evenly
over a rich pie paste. Make a custard as
if for custard pies and pour over it. It;ike
slowly until the rhubarb is tender anj
the custard browned.
Bicycle.
The season is well on now, an I yet the
ehainless wheel does not seem to have cut
a very wide swath. There are several
makes on the market, and, while they
have all made friends, yet they seem to
have hurt the chain-geared machine but
little.
The Ramsey swinging pedal has proved
one of the most novel and useful inven
tions that has has been yet introduced in
the line of cycling accessories. It is one
of the few inventions that has real merit,
which caa be demonstrated by a moment's
trial.
Tom Butler, the New England profes
sional bicycle racer, has decided to fol
low the National Circuit this year.
One of the series of sprint races for the
world's championship between Eddie Bald
and Jimmy Michael, which the American
Cycle Racing Association has arranged,
will b. held at the Willow Grove track
next month. Michael is confident of dem
onstrating his superiority over the champ
ion sprinter with the ease in which he
has polished off the middle-distance stars.
The new road between Berlin and Ham
monton via Waterford to Atlantic Cily is
much softer and rougher than the Blue
Anchor route. It is also over one-half a
mile longer.
Cissac, the noted French bicycle racer,
who is training at Woodside Park, Phila
delphia, is bound to become popular with
the Philadelphia cycling public. He is a
graceful rider and a game and determined
finisher. Off the traca ne IS a qtuie. un
assuming young fellow of very genial
disposition.
William Martin, the American cyclist,
who has been in Australia for several
vears, and who recently returned here,
has sent a challenge to Charles Church,
Joe Vernier or J. F. Starbm-k. In a let
ter sent to George S. McLeish, the local
representative of the American Cycle
Racing Association.Martin states his will
ingness to meet any of the above men in a
race from ten to thirty-three miles. Mar
tin says he will also make a side bet of
anv amount on the result.
l)asey, Flezer and Russell, riding a
triplet, have broken the world's record
for one mile. The feat was performed
at Denver Wheel Club Park. The quar
ters were reeled off in .33, .50 3-5, 1.09 and
1.46 1-S. The former record was held by
Johnson, Mertens and Kiser, who made
the mile in 1.4 2 5.
EM.lio Ucllnflip is now doinir unnaeed
work in the morning, and lately travelled
an unpaced mile in 2 05.
Secretary Bassett's reort of the num
ber of applications for memlership in the
league of American Wheelmen received
last week shows that New York sent 142;
Pennsylvania, 132; Massai nus-etis, iw.-m-w
Jersey, 4f; Ohio, 34; Illinois. 25; w lscon
lin, 19; Rhode Island, 15; Michigan, 5;
Missouri. 10; Maryland, 6; Connecticut,
I, and Indiana, 3. In the race for first,
place Pennsylvania makes quite a long
leap towards New York, a large number
jf renewals from old inemliers bringing
last week's lead of 1044 down to 801. New
York now has 23,314 members ana renn
:ylvania 22,5441. At the corresponding
late of last vear the Pennsylvania mem
bership was 15,368.
In India there" is a'species of hu
ferny in which the male bastheleft win
M-llow and the right oi.e red. The col
ors of the female are vice versa.
A small piece of cheese and an elec
iric wire form the latest rat-trap. The
cheese is fixed to the wire, and the in
stant the rat touches the cheese he re
ceives a shock which kills him.
In tropical regions when the moon is
at its full, objects are distinctly visible
several miles away. By starlight only,
print can be read with ease.
A one-legged knife grinder in Phila
delphia has taught a Newfoundland dog to
turn his grindstone.
The tobacco raised in Beioochistan is
exceedingly strong and cannot be smoked
by any but the most vigorous white man
A curious fact has been noted by
Arctic travelers snow when a very
low temperature absorbs moisture and
dries garments.
SERMONS QFTHE DAY
Subject: "Making the Best of Thine
Advice About Looking on the Hrijrh.
8lde KlfiMlngs 1. Misfortune's Caiaa
Bereavement Fortify Our Spirit.
Text: "And now men see not the bright
light which is in the clouds." Job xxxvii..
Si.
Wind east. Barometer falling. Storm-
signals out. Bliip reeling maintopsail!
Awnings taken In. Prophecies of foul
wuatlinr everywhere. The clouds congre
gate around tbe sun, proposing to aholish
111 in. But after awhile h assails the flanks
of the clouds with flying artillery of light.
and here and there la a sign of clearing
weather. Many do not observe It. Many
do not realise it. "And now men see uot
tbe bright light which is in the clouds." In
other words, there are a hundred meu look
ing for storm, where there is oue man look
ing for sunshine. My object is to get you
and myself into the delightful habit of
making the best of everything.
Yon may have wondered at the statistic
that In India, in tbe year 1X75, there were
over nineteen thousand people slain by
wild beasts, and that in tbe year 1870 there
were in India over twenty thousand peo
ple destroyed by wild animals. But there
is a monster in our own land which is year
by year destroying more than that. It is
the old bear of melancholy, and with Gos
pel weapons I propose to chase it back to
its midnight caverns. I mean to do two
sums a sum in subtraction and a sum in
addition a subtraction from your days
of depression nnd an addition to your days
of joy. If God will help me I will compel
you to see the bright light that there is in
the clouds, and compel you to make the
best of everything.
In the llrst place, you ought to make the
very best of all your financial misfortunes.
During! in panic years ago, or the long
years of financial depression, you all lost
money. Some of you lost it in most unac
countable ways. For the question, '"Hour
many thousands of dollars shall I put aside
this year?" you substituted the question,
"How shall I pay my butcher, ami baker,
and clothier, and landlord?" You had the
sensution of rowing hard with two oars,
and vet all tbe time going down stream.
You did not say much about it because
It was not politic to speak much of finan
cial embarrassment; but your wife knew.
Less variety of wardrobe, more economy
at the table, self-denial in art and tap
estry. Compression; retrenchment. Who
did not feel the necessity of it? My friend,
did vou make the best of this? Are yon
aware of bow narrow an escape you made?
Suppose you had reached the fortune to
ward which you were rapidly going? Whnt
then? You would have been as proud n
Lncifer.
How few men have succeeded largely in
a financial sense and yet maintained their
simplicity and religious consecration! Not
one man out of a hundred. There are glori
ous exceptions, but the general rule is that
In proportion as a man gets well otT forthis
world he gets poorly off for the next. H
loses his sense of dependence on God. He
gets a distaste for prayer meetings. With
plenty of bank stocks and plenty of Gov
ernment securities, what does thnt man
know of the praver, "Give me this day my
daily bread?" How few men largely suc
cessful In this world are bringing souls to
Christ, or showing self-denial for others, or
are eminent for piety? Vou can oount
them all upon your eight fingers and two
thumbs.
One of the old covetous souls, when he
was sick, and sick unto death, used to
have a basic brought in a basin filled
with gold, and his only amusement and
the only relief he got for his inflamed
hands was running them down through
the gold and turuiug it np in the basin.
Oh, what infatuntion and what destroying
power mouey has for many a manl Now,
vou weresailing at thirty knots the hour
toward these vortices of worldliness whnt
a mercy it was, that honest defalcation!
The same divine hand that crushed your
store-house, your bank, your office, your
Insurance company, lifted yon out of de
struction. The day you Honestly sus
pended in business made your fortune for
eternity.
"Oh," you say, "I could get along very
well myself, but I am so disappointed that
I cannot leave a competence for my chil
dren." My brother, the same financial nils
fortune that is going to save your soul will
save your children. With the anticipation
of large fortune, how much industry would
your children have? without which habit
of industry there is no safety. Tbe young
man would suy, "Well, there's no nee I of
my working; my father will soon step out.
and then I'll have just what I wnnt." You
cannot Id le from him how much you are
worth. You think you are hiding it; he
knows all about it. He can tell you almost
to a dollar. Perhaps he bas been to the
county office and searched the records of
deeds and mortgages, and he has added it
all up, and he has mndeanestimateof how
lone you will probably stay in this world,
and Is not as much worried about your
rheumatism and shortness of brenth ns you
are. The only fortune worth anything
that you can give your child is the fortune
you put in bis head and heart. Of all the
young men who started life with seventy
thousand dollars' capital, now many turned
out well? I do not know half a dozen.
The best Inheritance a young man can
have is the feeling that he has to fight his
own battle, and that life is a struggle into
Which he must throw body, mind and aonl,
or be disgracefully worsted. Where are
the burial places of the men who started
life with a fortune? Some of them In the
potter's field; some in the suicide's grave.
But few of these men reached thlrty-tlve
years of age. They drank, they smoked,
they Rambled. In them the beast de
stroyed the man. Some of them lived long
enough to get their fortunes, and went
through them. The vast majority of them
did not live to get their inheritance. From
the gin-shop or house of infamy they were
brought home to their father's house, and
in delirium began to pick off loathsome
reptiles from the embroidered pillow, to
fight back Imaginary devils. And then
they were laid out in highly upholstered
parlor, tbe casket covered with flowers by
Indulgent parents nowers suggestive or a
resurrection with no hope.
A yon sat this morning at your break
fast table, and looked into the faces of your
children, perhaps yon said within yourself,
'1'oor things! Howl wisu 1 coum start
them in life with a competence! How I
have been disappointed in all my expecta
tions of what I would do for them!" Upon
that scene of pathos I break with a piean
of congratulation, that by your nnanclai
losses vour own nrosnects for heaven and
the prospect for heaven of yourehlldren are
mightily Improved, iou may nave lost a
toy, but you have won a palaae. Let me
here say, in passing, do not put much stress
on tbe treasures of this world. You cannot
take them along with you. At any rate,
you cannot take them more than two or
three miles; you will have to leave them at
the cemetery. Attila had three coffins. So
fond was be of this lite that he decreed that
first he should be buried In a coffin of gold,
and that then that should be Inclosed in a
coffin of silver, and that should be inclosed
in a coffin of iron, nnd then a large amount
of treasure should be thrown In over his
body. And so he was buried, and the men
who buried him were slain, so that no one
might know where he was buried, and no one
might there interfere with bis treasures.
Oh, men of the world, who want to take
yonr money with you, better have three
coffins.
Again, I remark, you ought to make tbe
very best of your bereavements. Tbe whole
tendency is to brood over these separations
and to give much time to the handling of
mementoes of the departed, and to make
long visitations to the cemetery, and to say,
"Oh, I can never look up again; my hope is
gone; my courage is gone; my religion if
(one; my faitli in God Is gone! Oh, the
wear and tear and exhaustion of this lone
liness!" The most frequent bereavement is
the loss of children. If your departed child
had lived as long as you have lived, do you
not suppose that he would have had about
the same amount of trouble and trial that
you have had? If you conld make a choice
for yonr child between forty years of an
noyance, loss, vexation, exasperation, and
bereavements, and forty years In heaven,
would you take the responsibility of choos
ing the former? Would yon snatch away
the cup of eternal bliss and put Into that
ebild' hands the can ot many be
reavements Iiistesd e com
plete safety into which that child bas been
lifted, would you like to hold It down to
the risks of this moral state? Would yon
like to keep it out on a sea In which there
have been more shipwrecks than safe voy
ages? Is tt not a comfort to you to know
that that child, instead of being besoiled
and flung into the mire ot sin, is swung
clear into the skies? Are not those chil
dren to be congratulated that the point of
celestial bliss which you expect to reach
by a pilgrimage of fifty or sixty or seventy
years they reached at a flash? If the last
10.000 children who bad entered heaven
had gone through tbe average of human
life on earth, are you sure all those 10,000
children would have finally reached the
blissful terminus? Besides that, my friends,
you are to look at this matter as a self-denial
on your part for their benefit. If your
childreu want to go off in a Muy-day party;
If your children want to go on a llowery
and musical excursion, you consent. You
might prefer to have them with you, but
their jubilant absence satisfies you. Well,
your departed children have only gone out
in a May-day party, amid flowery and
musical entertainment, amid joys nnd
hilarities forever. That ought to quell
some of your grief, thetbought of theirglee.
So it ought to be that yon eould make
tbe best of all bereavements. The fact that
you have so many friends in heaven will
make your own departure very cheerful.
When you are going on a voyage, every
thing depends upon where your friends are
if they are on the wharf that you leave,
or on the wharf toward which you are go
ing to sail. In other words, the more
friends you have In heaven tbe easlr It
will be to get away from this world. The
more friends hern, the more bitter good
byes: the more friends there the more
glorious welcomes. Some of you have so
many brothers, sisters, children, friends in
heaven, that I do not know hardly how
you are going to crowd through. When
the vessel came from foreign lands, nnd
brought a Prince to New York harbor, the
ships were covered with bunting, ami you
remember how the men-of-war thundered
broadsides; but there was no joy there
compared with the joy which shall be
demonstrated when you sail up the broad
bay of heavenly salutation. The more
friends you have" there, the easier your own
transit. What is death to a mother whose
children are in heaven? Why, there is no
more grief in it than there is in her going
Into a nursery amid the romp nnd laughter
of her household. Though all around may
be dark, see you not the bright light in the
clouds-that light the irritated faces of
your glorified kindred?
So also, my friends, I would have you
make the best of your sicknesses. When
you see oue move off with elastic step and
in full physical vigor, sometimes you be
come impatient with yonr lame foot. When
a man describes an object a mile off, and
you cannot see it at all, you become im
patient of your dim eye. When you hear
of a well man making a great achievement
you become impatient with your depressed
nervous system or your .mapl luted health
I will tell vou how von can make the worst I
of it. Ttrond over it: lirond over nil these i
illnesses, and yonr nerves will become more
twitchy, and your dyspepsia more aggra
vated, and your weakness more appalling.
But that is the devil's work, to tell you how
to make the worst of It; it Is my work to
3how you a bright light tn the clouds.
Which of the llible men most attract your
attention? You say, Moses, Job, David,
Jeremiah, Paul. Why, what a strange thing
It is that you have chosen those who were
physically disordered! Moses I know he
was nervous from the blow he gave the
Egyptian. Job his blood was vitiated and
diseased, and his skin distressfully erup
tive. David he had a running sore, which
he speaks of when he says: "My sore ran
in the night and ceased not." Jeremiah
had enlargement of the spleen. Who can
donbt tt who read Lamentations? Paul
he had lifetime sickness which the com
mentators have been guessing about for
years, not knowing exactly what the
apostle meant by "a thorn in the flesh." I
do not know either; but it was something
shnrp, something that stuck him. I gather
from all this that physical disorder may be
the means of grace to the soul. You say
you have so many temptations from bo-lily
ailments, and if you were only well you
think you could be a good Christian.
While your temptations mav be different,
they are no more those of the man who
has an appetite three times a day, and
sleeps eight hours every night.
From what I have heard I judge that
invalids have a more rapturous view of the
uext world than well people, and will hnve
a higher renown in heaven. The best view
of the delectable mountains is through the
lattice of the sick room. There are trains
running every hour between pillow anil
throne, between hospital and mansion,
between bandages nnd robes, between
crutch and palm branch. Oh, I wish some
of you people who are compelled to cry,
"My head, my head! My foot, my foot!
Mv back, my back!" would try some of
the Lord's medicine! You are going tc be
well anyhow before long. Heaven ia an
old "Uy, but has never yet reported one
case of sickness or one bill of mortality.
No ophthalmia for tbeeye. No pneumonia
for the lungs. No pleurisy for the side.
No neuralgia for the nerves. No rheuma
tism for the muscles. The inhabitants
shall never say, "I am sick." "There shall
be no more pain."
Again, you ought to make the best of
life's flnalitv. Now, you think I have a
very tough subject. You do not see how I
am to strike a spark of light out of the
flint of the tombstone. There are many
people who have an idea that death Is the
submergence of everything pleasant by
everything doleful. If my subject could
close in the upsetting of all such precon
ceived notions. It would close well. Who
can judge best of the features of a man
those who are close by him, or those who
are afar off? "Oh," you say, "those can
judge best of the features of a man who
are close by him!"
Now, my friends, who shall judge of the
features of death whether they are lovely
or whether they are repulsive? You? You
are too far off. If I want to get a judg
ment as to what really the features of
death are, I will not nsk you; I will ask
those who have been within a month of
death, or a week of death, or an hour of
death, or a minute of death. They stand
so near the features, they can tell.
They give unanimous testimony, if they
are Christian people, thnt death. Instead
of being demoniac, is cherubic Of all the
thousands ot Christians who have been
carried through the gates of the cemetery,
gather up their dying experiences, and you
will find they nearly all bordered on a
jubilate. How often you have seen a dy
ing man join in the psalm being sung
around bis bedside, the middle of the verse
opening to let his ransomsd spirit free!
long after the lips could not speak, he
looking and pointing upward.
Some of you talk as though God had ex
hausted Himself in building this world,
and that all the rich curtains He ever made
He hung around this planet, and all the
flowers He ever grew He has woven into
the carpet of our daisied meadows. No.
This world Is not the best thing God can
do; this world is not the best thing tha
God has done.
One week of our year is called blossom
week called so all through the land be
cause there are more blossoms in that
week than in any other week of the year.
Blossom week! And that is what the future
world is to which the Christian is invited
blossom week forever. It is as far ahead
f this orld as Paradise is ahead of Dry
Tortugas, and yet here we stand trembling
snd fearing to go out, and we want to stay
on the dry sand, and amid the stormy
petrels, when we are invited to arbors of
iessamine, and birds of paradise.
One season I had two springtimes. I
went to New Orleans In April, and I marked
the differences between going toward New
Orleans and then coming back. As I went
on down toward New Orleans, the verJur.,
the foliage, became thicker and more
beautiful. When I came back, the further
I came toward home the less the foliage.
and less It became until there was hardly
any. Now, it all depends upon the direc
tion In which you travel. It a spirit from
heaven should come toward our world, he
Is traveling from June toward December,
from radiance toward darkness, from bang
ing gardens toward icebergs. Ami one
would not be very much surprised it a
spirit of God sent forth from heaven to
ward our world should be slow to come.
But how strange it is that we dread going
out toward that world when going is from
December toward Jane from the snow of
earthly storm to tbe snow ot Edenlo bios-
som fromthearjtlcsof trouble toward the
tropica of eternal joy.
Oh, what an ado about dying! We get so
attached to the malarial marsh in whlca
we live that we are afraid to go up and
live on the hilltop. We are alarmed be
cause vacation Is coming. Best programme
of celestial minstrels and hallelujah, no in
ducement. Let us stay here ami keep ig
norant and sinful and weak. Do not in
troduce us to Elijah, and Jo'in Milton and
Bourdalone. Keep our feet on the sharp
cobblestones of earth instead of planting
them on the bank of amaranth In heaven.
Give us this small Island of a leprous world
instead of the itnmeti'dties of splendor and
jelight. Keep our hands full of nettles,
and our shoulder under the burden, and
our neck In the yoke, nnd hopples on our
ankles, and hnndculTs on . our wrists.
"Dear Lord," we seen to say, "keep us
down here where we hnve to suffer, instead
of letting us up where we might live nnd
reign and rejoi.ie."
We are like persons standing on the cold
steps of the national picture gallerv in
London, under umhrelln in tin rain, afraid
to go in amid the Turners and the Titians.
and the llaphaels. I come to them and
say, "Why don't you go inside the gal
lery?" "Oh," they say, "we don't know
whether we can get in." I say: "Don't
you see the door is open?" "Yes," they
say; "but we have been so long on theso
cold steps, we are so attached to them we
don't like to leave." "But." I say, "it is
much brighter and more beautiful in the
gallery, you had better go in." "No,"
they say, "we know exactly how it is out
here, but we don't know exactly how it is
inside."
So we stick to this world as though we
preferred cold drizzle to warm habitation,
discord to cantata, sackcloth to royal pur-
pie ns though we prererred a piano wltn
four or live of the keys out of tune to an in
strument fully attuned as though earth
and heaven had exchanged apparel, and
earth had taken oil liridnl array and
heaven had gone into deep mourning, all
its waters stagnant, nil its harps broken,
all chalices cracked at the dry wells, nil
tbe lawns sloping to the river plowed with
graves with dead angels under the furro-v.
I am amazed at myself and at yourself
forthis infatuation under which we all
rest. Men you would suppose woul 1 get
frightened at hnving to stay In this world
Instead of getting frightened at having to
go toward heaven. This world is as bright
to me as to any living man, but I congrat
ulate anybody who has a right to die. J!y
that I mean through sickness you cannot
avert, or through accident you cannot
avoid your work consummate 1. "Where
did they bury Lily?" said one little child
to another. "Oh," she replied, "they
buried her In the ground." "Vhat! in the
cold grouud?" "Oh, no, no; not in the col 1
ground, but in the warm ground, where
ugly seeds become beautiful flowers."
"But," says some one, "it pains mo so
much to think that I must lose tbe body
with whb'h my soul has so long compan
ioned." You do not lose it. You no more
lose your body by death than you lose your
watch when you seud it to have it repaired,
or your jewel when you f end it to have it
reset, or the faded picture when you send
it to have it touched up, or t he photograph
of a friend when you have it put In a new
locket. You do not lose your body. Paul
will go to Rome to get his, Pavson will go
to Portland to get his. President Edwards
will go to Princeton to get his, George
Cookman will ge to the bottom of the At
lantic to get his, and we will goto the vil
lage churchyards and the city cemeteries
to get ours; and when we have our perfect
spirit rejoined to our perfect body, then we
will be the kind of meu and women that
the resurrection morning will muke pos
sible. So you see you have not made out any
doleful story yet. What have you proved
about death? What Is the ease you have
madeout? . You have made out just this
that death allows us to have a perfect
body, free of all aches, united forever with
! a perfect soul free from all sin. Correct
1 your theology. What does It all mean?
j Why, it means thnt moving-day is coming,
and that you are going to quit cramped
' apartments and be mansioned forever,
i The horse that stands at the gate will uot
be the oue lathered and b-spattered , car
' rying bad news, but it will be the horse
j that St.Vohn saw in Apocalyptic vision
j the white horse on which the King comes
to the banquet. The ground around the
' palace will quake with the tires and hoofs
! of celestial iquipage, and those christians
who in this wrold lost their friends, and
lost their property, nnd lost their health,
' and lost their life, will lind out that God
j was always kind, and that all things
j worked together for their good, and that
! those were the wisest people ou earth who
! made the best of everything. See you uot
now tbe bright light in the clouds?
OLD TIME COURTESY
Of the Sort Found in Oregon When
Fhe Was Yonna- and Unfettered.
There wasn't any particular excite
ment over the hanging of the man
pointed out and arrested at ISijr Kind
us tin clinp who stole a pack mule from
Colonel Yhiti's camp, over on Fisli
Hi ver. Oue of White's men. who was
over after bacon, happened to meet
the stranger and be went to Jim Ked
fern, president of the vigilance com
mittee, and said:
"Jim, is It a good day for a hanging?"
"Wall, tolerably fa'r," replied Jim.
"The kuss who stole our pack mew)
Is down in the tin front saloon."
"I see. And you want bim liting?"
"I don't keer no great shakes ubom
It myself, but I reckon the kurnef
would be pleased."
"I'm willing to obleege Colonel -White,
ns he's a good friend of mine;
but do you think the critter down that
has any objecbshuns to bein' hung":"
"He don't look like a man who'd kick
about It, 'Tears more like n critter
who'd be plad to be off the nirth."
"Wall, we'll take chances on bim,"
said Jim, nnd he went to his shanty nnd
got a rope and asked eight or ten ot
tbe boys to go along. When the crowd
reached the tin front saloon, the stran
ger was Just coming out.
"Say, we want you," remarked Red
fern. "What fur?"
"Goln' to hnng you."
"'Cause why?"
"Fur stealin' Kurnel White's pack
mewl."
"Wall, Are away."
lie was escorted to n tree whereon a
dozen more men bail lieen duly banged
and, lifted upon an empty, whisky bar
rel, the noose was soon placed ever hia
neck.
"Want to sny anything?" asked Jim,
as all was ready.
"Xothin" 'tail."
"Then let er go."
An hour later. White's man, who had
started for home, returned to hunt ot
Mr. Red fern, and say:
"Look-a-yere, Jim, that feller didn't
steal our mewl."
"No?"
"No. They got the fellor and the
mewl over at Clay City, and hung him
this mornln. I thought this was the
feller, but I must hev bin mistook."
"I see. Wall, he's bin hung and bur
led, and we can't help bim any now.
We'll Jest let the next one off, to even
np things. My compliments to thf
kurnel, and tell bim I shall always
ready to obleege him." I'eudletol
East Oregonlan.
As a general thins i i v i-i-i- p';in
In lonl'iiim to a 1 iisii.m if tier" i- ro
really good reason for r-ei-lii'C it. Ihii
avoiding singularity where it is nol
needful- ... . . .
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with tie difarar vwmm
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