'If 11 F. SOHWE1ER, THB OONQTITUTION-THE UNI ON-AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. VOL LIU MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA . WEDNESDAY. FEBRUARY 22 1899 NO. 11 By Marion V.Hotli CIIATTEK XXVII. It was not until flu- first bewilderment ,f hi sorrow passed nwiiy that Lord Viv ian S. Iwtii thought of asking how it hap ...''.i ,i one could toll him. The lady's Mid I'M ::si ,hat I-ady Beatrice had , said, anil hi' could not understand why his wii" been so "i-1"1"""1" ' D lt'ns Ufi'.rutli what could have induced hor to brave his annoyance and anger, to disobey h's commands, to disregard his washes? Th. re must be some reason why, but he never discovered it. The secret of that journey, for which she had been will Ine to risk "her life, perished with her.- Peepest pioom seemed that day to hare fallen on Selwyn Cast!.-. Kvery one wb (tunned and bewildered. By the doctor idvire all knowledge of the accident was carefully concealed from Rupert. What ever Lord Selwyn thought or felt, he wii obi:;ed. in his son's presence, to carefully conceal ail emotion. That same day his lordship visited the groom's Cottle. The man left a wife and three little children to lament his loss. Lord Vivian did all he could for the woman. He gave her the cottage, and tettied upon her a pension that would for ever keep prim want from her door. There was an inquest, but no one bad anything to say. and the verdict was. as a matter of course, "accidental death." On Mrs. Rivers the sad, sudden death produced a strange effect. It gave hef time for thought. She had dreaded the revelation of her secret; she had dreaded the terrible scene that must have ensued when it became known; and now it waa once more her own. She deplored Bea trice's sad death more, perhaps, than any one, for she alone knew the secret of the terrible crime the dead woman had plan ned. She mourned not only for the lost life, but for the sin-laden soul so swiftly, so suddenly summoned before its Judge, f She was miserably undecided what to do. There were times when it seemed to . her the only atonement she could make , for her error was to confess her fault to her husband, to tell him every motive which had actuated her and let him pun- . . . u ish her as he would, mat laea woiuu take possession of her until she was near ly throwiiiz herself at his feet and telling him all. Then came the reaction. The same mo tives that had led her to make the sacri-1 ficc eiiited itHI, They utre wlM deep ened by the thought of how her son would listen to such a story and how it would affect him. She resolved at last uj-id keeping si lent a short time longer. The day came when Rupert was able to leave the room in which he had fought so fierce a bartie with the grim King r;:th an-1 iro down stairs. Soon as he was able to tnivel his father asked him if he would like to go to Scotland, and the bov w-,!s delighted with the idea. I.ord Selwyn and Rupert went to Scot land. Therp in the clear, bracing north ern air. heaitli and strength came back to the your.sr heir of Selwyn. He grew rapidly: his father's eyes rested upon him in admiring love. Rupert was a noble, princely boy. and his father gloried in him. There, in the long walks by moun tain and glen, they spoke of Violante, and the i.y day by day loved more dearly the moMiory of his gentle mother. Mrs. Il'.v. rs went to Brighton with little Lance; his nurse accompanied her. A rr-rty ho-.ise v as taken for them ou the Parade, and the patient, gentle lady, who had rej euted n bitterly of her error, sat herelf to work bravely to fill a mother's pl.""e to the motherless child.- She lav-ish.-d care and tenderness upon him; she taught h m all night and all day she nev er ilked him one moment out of her sight, and it seemed to her that by this devo tion to the boy she made some slight ati. .lenient to the mother for the wrong she had unwittingly done to her. What she should do in tie future, Vio lante did not know. The summer and autumn wore away, winter and spring came round, and as yet no news had been heard from Lord Selwyn. The month of June came, with the red roses all in warm bloom. Then Lord Sel wyn wrote to eny that h was returning with Rupert to Selwyn Castle, and would be glad to have little Lance at home again. So, when the chestnuts were all in bloom and the limes in blossom, Mrs. Rivers re turned with the little child to the home that had been desolate so long. It seemed, that etening when Lord Sel wyn returned, as thouirh every memory of his former life came over him. He thought of the fair-haired boy who had d.c-1 in his arms his last word a message of love to his sister; he thought of his journey to Woodeaves, and the sweet face of Violante Temple as it first dawned up on him; he remembered his marriage, and the glorious golden time that had followed it had ever man been loved as Violante loved him? Then he began to wonder if Beatrice bad really been unkind to Violante, or whetiier it was but a jealous fancy. The memory of Violante seemed to possess him this evening. How well he remem bered the graceful, gentle, halMimid man ner, the sheen of the golden hair, the light of the violet eyes, the sweet lips whose smile warmed and gladdened his heart-his gentle, beautiful, lost love. He said her name aloud "Violante!" and it seemed to him that the winri tvlr It up and the birds repeated It. Ah, if he ""l ,lTe bis life over again, how dif- .w uuy ne would act; how he would love u cnensli his hrt, his only love, Vio lante And Lord Vivian Selwyn, master vi .-eiwyn Lastle, lord of that splendid i"ir:un. head of a gallant race, sat down upon one of the iron seats, perhaps more aeso ,.ate and lonely in heart than any man m Lnghnd. 1 hen, ch ar, sweet and soft on the warm vep:n- ,nr he heard his nm-n Vi. tTS a.ai the Toioe 0,111 ottered it was mat of the fair-haired girl he had loved o tenderlv. ivian! Never was sigh of toe wind so soft or o eet. Ue did not or mJTe IU Baa jovea her so fondly, tie sad rnougm f her so continually, that he may be Pardoned for the superstitious fancy that overpowered him. He had loved her so well that, even should her sweet, pore Pint return to comfort him he would feel no surprise. "vTkn!" cried the sweet voice again. and he buried his face In his hands with a low moan. "Vivian, do not be frighten ed: look up look at mc!" CHAPTER XXVIII. The wonder and mercy were that he did not fall dead in that moment. He sprang from his seat with a cry of terror on bis lips; and there, standing under the limes, with the sunlight on her hair and dress, was Violante, his loved, lost wife. Wan It Violante, or was it the restless spirit of the girl he had loved? "Vivian, do not be frightened. May I come to you?" He stood rooted to the spot. Had it been to save his life he could not have ut tered one word. Remember, he believed he hsd seen her buried and she stood there! "May I come to you?" she repeated. "Say only one word." But that one word be could -not otter; he opened his arms, and the next moment he was kneeling, clasping his knee with passionate tears, with passionate cries, with passionate prayers for pardon. He j could not realize it could not understand it. He was like a man stricken blind, deaf and dumb. He only felt the clinging touch of the white hands he only saw the golden head bowed in deepest humil ity at his feet. Then he recovered himself; he bent over her, be raised her from' the ground, he took her white hands in his. "Violante!" he cried, looking at her. "In the name of heaven, what does this meau is is it you? Speak to me. Have you risen from the dead or did you not die?" She stretched out her bonds imploringly to him. "Will you ever forgive me, Vivian?" she asked; "will you forgive me. If I toll you all the truth?" J His half-formed superstitious fancy died away. He put her at some little distance from him and looked earnestly at her. "Violanter he cried. "Have you been I Mrs. Rivers Jn disguise?" "Yes," she replied. "I hungered and thirsted so for one look at you and my son. I could not help it, Vivian; do not be angry with me." Seated by him in the warm, sweet even ing light, she told him her story, word for word, sparing Beatrice where and when it was possible, but telling her husband the plain, unvarnished troth. She con cealed nothing but the 'wrong that Bea trice bad intended to her son. j An hour passed,,, and still the dear, 1 sweet voice never tired nor faltered. She told him of her love for Rupert, snd of the boy's passionate affection for her. She laid her whole life bare before him. He only spoke once, and then it was to cry out: , "Could all this be, and I not know it?" When she had finished, Violante, Lady Selwyn, knelt again at her husband's feet. "Judge me" she said; "I nave toiu you the plain, unvarnished troth. I can see the great wrong I did. At the time I only thought of sacrificing myself; now I see that I wronged others. Only believe me. Vivian." she cned passionately, "i did it for your sake and for my son's." He stooped over her ana Kiesea ner wiin tears in his eyes. "It wss an error. Violante," he cried; "but, my darling. It was a woman's error, after all, and I pardon H." "You forgive mer sue ssm. -Vo. " he renHed: "for I. too. need your pardon. If I had not been so careless and negligent, you could not have suffered so, Violante. Oh, my darling, thank heaven for sending you back to me; my heart lay In what I thought to be your grave." The last of the golden sunbeams died away, the moon rose, the stars came out, and still they lingered among the flowers. Hand in hand they walked back to the Castle, and there Lord Selwyn assembled the whole bousenoia, ana 101a um m m sudden and bewildering event. There wat at first some alarm; then, when the sweet face smiled upon them once more, there was nothing but Joy. , , w Rupert had always aecreaiui r: h. his mother's sonl. How he ca ressed her. and hung over her, and could ko.- tn leave her: how he tessed her about the black hair, and the blue glasses; now ne cn - .-. ";.,., ,:.u. For once the won a w. d Nothing so romamic uu u.. for a long time. The ?ry went J the rounds of all tne it.ngi w-i-.-. naoers. There was no use in attempting .ToUrSe. The ptain truth wss told. People wondered at it, then forgot. The test news heard from Selwyn Cas tlethe happiest home In England was that Rupert, the heir of Selwyn, who dis tinguished himself so greatly at Oxtori. and afterward in Parliament, u to marry the beautiful daughter of the Countess Sitanl. m. For Vivian and vioiame pt- at last. There is no happier or more pro Jerou. man in England than the master of IT. .A hi fi r. gentle wife ighVwhe; e remember, the aim error of her life. line enu. flair pipe Moslc. Except to Scotcnmen iub aUy evoked from a bagpipe not highly musical. A humorist In the Clarion attempts an analysis of them: . ir.rt.- 72 ner cent.; Big dip - cats on mlnigbt iues-n voices oi inranc pupi" Anting of hungry pigs I Sg6 per nt-: rfenm-whistles-a percent: chut of erU-ket-2 ir ..U She ..id he was. great 1 b.g bear, Aud "Mf w awfS tber and there. He hugged her awruiv And she waa glad she saio T tfca Placa Hiss. .SaywlaI thinxth;-dwk Ulan', hi the ptacj m- "Wny so, tmnba "Cans I'd be free torn tanuro "Wot kind o" teraptatlonr -Why. the papers saya th' soeVtln. STSerno to work."-C!Uveiand D-J-r-. Household. - aw lnn'rJ ,ball my be made of i? . ra,,n. citron, etc, Chon toe frnit. knead Into the fondait. roH out In a sheet put a layer of olin fondant under aVid another on "top. Eln.?11 We" ther. and afte SIS k1.?4 b.our" cut ln "Quares. Ta e ,ru" " t" cen tre and roll the fondant around It. ;a J "q,uare ot citron or pineapple s ssETbSr ,a the centr of Croquette nf ri t rP.S 1 ot b"8 emmbs, butter size m,ff''.yol.k 'on egg, one table ipoonful of minced parsely, one table I.nT Ul vlner- half a teaspoon hUi J? Ba,t' 0,-els-hth of a teaspoon- i ul of pepper, a grating of nutmeg and half a pound of brains which have een prepared and cooked the day before- Mix all together thoroughly. ' Form Inch balls, dip In beaten egg and j crumbs and fry. Garnish with pars ley and serve with a cream sauce. I Kromeskies of Fish. Flake Into small pieces cold boiled flsh. To each i cupful add the grated yolks of two ' nard-bolled eggs, a teaspoonful of : chopped parsley, a grate of nutmeg j and one beaten egg. Mix carefullv, I :orm into tlnv .., n i : :hln slice of bacon, dip In fritter bat er and fry In hot fat. Dumplings. Soak one baker's roll In one cup milk; add two eggs, salt, grated boiled potato. Stir well, ad ding flour enough for stiff batter. Hastily add small squares of fried roll. Shape into balls and throw Into boiling water for 20 minutes. Tear them apart, pour hot butter over them and serve. Coffee Cake. Melt a generous table spoonful of butter In two cups of milk; add two eggs, pinch of salt, one table poonful sugar, a little mace (powder ed). Take previously prepared sponge (of one-half cup milk flour and yeast), add flour and gradually stir in above mixture, alternating with flour until well worked Into light batter. Let alse. Put In long shallow pans, the batter about an inch thick; spread :op with beaten egg and sprinkle with rrated cocoanut, cinnamon and sugar. Baltimore Penned Oysters. Have a pint of oysters washed and drained Melt a large tablespoonful of butter in your cutlet pan. Then turn In the lysters and allow them to cook until :he gills begin to curl. Then pour over :hem two tablespoonfuls of Madciria or sherry, and serve at once on thin buttered toast. Rice Cream. Whip a pint of cream nd flavor with both sherry and vanilla, Add sugar to taste. Beat In an ounce sf rice which has been boiled soft and tender ln a quart of milk and allow It to get cold. Add before, serving hall a cup of preserved ginger which ha been chopped into pieces not larger than the grains of rice. Rice Snowballs. A pretty dish for Juvenile suppers. Boil six ounces ot rice ln a quart of milk and a flavoring essence of almonds till quite tender; when the rice Is quite soft put Intc small cups, and let It remain until suite cold; turn all out in a deep glass iish. pour round (but not over) a goort sustard. and on the top of each ball place a stripe of bright-colored. Jelly. This dish will be found much more wholesome and digestible than th, usual pastry and sweets used at chii Jren's parties. Balls of cocoanut, almond, hickory or other chopped nuts can be made bv kneading them In with the fondant, then forming Into balls, rolling them In granulated sugar and drying on parafflne paper. Chocolate Creams. Simply make the fondant Into small balls, melt an equal quantity of fortfantt and chocolate flavor with vanilla, and coat the balU In this, drying aa above. Labor Notes. United States contain 900,000 tele- PnnCuba 2,000,000 acres are under cul tivation. ' . , - . Mailable glass Is now used to Oil de cayed teeth. Karthenware sleepers are ln use on some of the Japanese railroads. The Sterling Cotton Mills, of Frank linton, N. C. will double Its equipment. Several New York bakers were fined $25 each for violating the sanitary bake shop laws. An employer of German clerks says that they work 20 per cent, slower than EThe"muracture of Jewelry In Bir mingham gives constant employment to 14,000 persons. Coffee forms about 60 per cent, or Porto Rico's exports, sugar 20 per cent, and tobacco 5 per cent. . , On German railways freight brings in 68 per cent, of all receipts, and costs only 33 per cent, of all expenses. Toronto grocers are lighting a pro-PO-edTaw Sat will give druggists the exclusive nim " cines. , . whih A Mexican mining -""iK;,''. " ,t sT KSrS look afteV the rnu.err- teeth. . , nn.nn,atlc cinrp tne inxruuu""" - rubbe? tires on the London . cabs many w - k hnruM wear laree Swiss cowbells on thejr necks Cr Anted tea. ib mj rwna This is made by mixing orange S,hoSom.Thw.th the tea. and letting It DVnmaVk It is the law that all drankM ons shall be taken to their 2- in carriages provided at the ex SSSSTof ?nTpblican who sold them thf. been" calculated that the loss JL innm a verages 200.000.000 weeks from illness r 2V4 per cent. of thewor"k do'erthe'wholeVpula- gaTefte factories In Man which ern- CTd the-iouTe.:whrch confine them yond these nou higher grades B?Vw" "'.rket. there are nearly 100 TheersJandarroil enterprises give Tn. i iinward of 25.000 men. or employment to upward oi . ""wore the last war. - The pipe 7Jtned by the Rockefeller con-I,neC-mont to more than 20.000 miles. 1"." lines W T steamers and 3500 ca are emp7oyed in transporting the product Bicycle. At the close of 1898 there were 28t V'SlSSSci-b will build a form of milk delivery In some of the MTrUcSseh.onbfme .til. has lota of Sds and many are being ordered for '"attendanat tie Paris cycH b.0W.adltted on Wednes day. December 1R. - Verone D.urin, Mareh an automobile ex- S:E.hpeari mTrJeS V-S'S'-mi of aboot U inilefc illilllfi gawMiMl cJMollie'5 T X T HEN James Bedfleld, of .Chicago, waa appointed v Indian Agent ha moved to Nebraska, taking with him his wife, a baby girl and a young Irish maid of the name of Mollle. Mr. Redneld en joyed frontier life, It being an agreeable change from office work. But Mrs. Redfleld did not like living ln a log house at a email trading post on the prairies. She declared that she would have died of homesickness if the blithe, light-hearted Mollle had not always been cheering her with. "Ah, but this Is a foine country. Mis' Redfleld. Jlst look at the big ocean of land a stretchln' to the end of the world." "But It looks so lonesome, Mollle, to aee neither hills nor trees," Mrs. Red fleld would reply. "'Tis the better wldout thlra. I'm thlnkln'; they'd be for obstructin' our foine view." said the Irish girl. "And both day and night It Is so stM," Mrs. Redfleld said, sighing. "Do ye say it's still? Whin every night of our lolfe we hear buffalos a-bellowtn' an' wolves a-howlln' an' wild Injins a-hootin' wldln gunsbot of onr door. Sorra! an' ain't that noise enough for any llvln' sowlT" declared Mollle O'Flynn. One Sunday morning ln early spring Mrs. Redfleld stood at the open door, looking out across the prairie. The ikulis and whitening bones of slain buffaloes glittered In the sunlight Crows, ravens and turkey-buzzards floated lazily between the blue sky and the brown prairie. Mollle, seeing her mistress' woeful gaze, began singing, "Come Back to Erin, Mavourneen, Ma vonrneen." But Mrs. Redfleld did not heed the Irish girl's song. Then Mollle suddenly recollected that It was Sun day, so she said: "An' 'tis meself that knows that ye're llstenln' fer. Mis' Red fleld; It's thlm church bells ln Chicago. They waa always rerulndin' me of me duty; but away out here I can't help meself, and so the bells do not trouble me at all, and they've left me molnd almost since I've seen tne grand lolfe on the prairies," Mollle confessed. The secret ot the matter was that Mollle had three admirers: a mountain trapper, a cowboy and an Indian. At sunset of that same day the mountain trapper, on horseback, drew rein at the Indian Agent's quarters. Mollie was In the log stable, milking the cow. She heard her lover call, "Whoa!" but sbe did not come out to greet him for fully ten minutes, then sbe walked leisurely across the yard, balancing a milk-pail en her head and humming an Irish niel- ody. seemingly unaware of her admlr - er"s presence. "Oeod-evening, Mollie," said tbe trap per, walking toward ber, leading his horse by the bridle. "Evenln", Jim," MoUie returned, with a flourish of ber free arm. "Iiet me carry the pall," he said. "Qo 'way wld ye. I'm no weaklin'," the girl answered. Mollle went Into tbe house. Jim Parker waited patiently outside until she returned, then be seated himself by tbe side of her on tbe doorstep and said: "I'm hearln' you have another beau, a cowboy, Charlie Rankin by name." "It's many a beau I have; the prai ries is full of thlm " "Nonsense, Mollle; be honest. Do you think more of Charlie than you do of me?" Jim asked. "I'm fond of thlm all. 'Tis hard choosln'," Mollle answered. "But I'm the one you like best, eh, Mollle?" Jim queried, nudging her with bis elbow. "Go 'long wld ye. Don't be so famil iar," Mollie quickly said, moving away from ber wooer. "But say. Mollle. who air the fellers what comes court In' you?" Jim wanted to know. "It's not fair to be tell In' on thim. But there's one I'm havtn' nowadays I don't be lolktn'; he creeps around like a sunke In the grass; an' 'tis niver wunst I can git a good sight of him: Oh! there he Is now, a-peekln' from be hind the hen-coop." "It's an Indian," said Jim, Jumping op. "Sure as faith It's one of thlm hathen crathers," Mollle said. "I'll shoot him down." declared Jim Tarker, running toward the hen-coop. Mollle sat quietly on the doorstep. Jim came back In three minutes. "An' did ye kill him?" Mollle asked. "Nah. be wasn't thar," Jim answered. "He's a sly fox. I can nlver ketch sight of him." Mollle said. In a few minutes Jim said good-nlgbt to Mollie. mounted his horse and rode away. Tbe Irish girl watched the .trap per gallop eastward, saying aloud: " 'Tis strange, but the feller what' fnrtherest awny I'm fer lolkln' the best." As Mollle turned to go Into the house a shadow fell across the doorstep. "Ow ow! ye Ingln, git away wld ye!" she creamed, hurrying In and banging the door behind her. The next morning when Mollie was hanging out the family wash Charlie Rnnkln rode by. Mollie saw him. but she was too busy to take time to notice the cowboy. He rode by again: still Mollle did not look at him. Tbe third time be came ln sight Mollie nodded aer head. This gave the cowboy cour age to speak. "Fine mornin'. Miss O'Flynn," he said, raising his broad-brimmed hat "I s'pose It is; but I'm too buRy to be heedln' the weather," Mollle replied. "I thought I'd call In the mornin', seeln a mountain trapper takes your time every evenln'," the cowboy aald, winging himself off his mustang. f ljoVer$ "Bey, ihar! don't be lettln' that crazy baste of yourn bed rabble me clean clothes," the Irish girl called oat The cowboy led his mustang away from the clothesline, and tied It to a corner of the cow stable; then he asked: "How many lovers have you. Miss Mol lle O'Flynn r "I don't be bothered conntln thlm," Mollle answered. "Ain't yon ever goin' ter choose a hus band? Women are scarce ln these parts. Won't you be my wife?" Char He Rankin boldly said to her. "Don't be a-botherln' me on a Mon day mornin' wld such nonsense. Have ye no better work to do thin to be rldln" yer wild horse around the country a-askln' every girl ye see to be yer wife?" "Hold on, Mollle O'Flynn! I don't ask every girl to be my wife," the cowboy said Indignantly. "Sorra, I've no tolme to be botherln' wid ye now, so be off, I say," Mollle said, waving her bare arms around ber head. The cowboy Jumped on his mustang and sped over the prairie. Mollle, with her arms akimbo, laugh ed a good, hearty Irish laugh. "He'll be back afore many days, or me name ain't Mollle O'Flynn." she said aloud. Tben she went Into the house. Mr. Redfleld's office was a lean-to on one side of the log bouse. One after noon he was busy at work In there when Mollie came rushing In, saying: "IU not be standln' It no longer. That sneakln' Injin follows me loike me ins INDIA POIHTXD AT THB TBOFHIBS. THKX AT MOLLIS, SATIMO, "SQUAW." shadow. I see his hathlnlsb eyes a-peekln' at me round the cow stable whan I'm milkln'; he's lurkln' 'bout tbe hen-coop wban I'm buntin' eggs; an whan I'm washln' disht-s he comes an' , loot ln aaoyf 'S" ln front of me face. "Do you think he's an Indian T' Mr. Redfleld calmly Inquired. "Yes; an Indian wld a buckskin shirt on, an tedders In bis snaky hair," Mol lie exclaimed. "Oh, Neshoba; he's a good, peace able fellow; you needn't fear him; he'll do you no harm." "Thin why do he be a-followln me?' tbe girl asked. "I'm sure I don't know, but I'll find out," Mr. Redfleld said, taking his bat to go out of doors. Mollle waited in the office. In ten niinutes Mr. Redfleld returned. "Mol lie," he said, smiling, "Neshoba .wants you to be his squaw." t "Squaw!" Mollie screamed. "That's what he told me," Mr.'-Red field answered. "The black hatheu! Sorra! what does he take me fer?" the Irish girl wanted to know. "He's waiting outside for an answer, Mollle." Mr. Redfleld said. "Tell blm to skedaddle. I'll have nothing to do wid the lolkes of him,' Mollle scornfully replied. Mr. Ked field went out to talk again with the Indian boy. When he returned he said: "Neshoba Insists on having yon for bis squaw. He offers me two 'horses and a cow. If I'll give you to htm ' "Am I a slave?" the Irish girl said In a fury. "No, no, Mollie; you're a free -woman You must decide tbe question. I'll call blm ln." Neshoba came and stood at the threshold of the door. "Do ye think I'd marry ye?" Mollie asked him. "Three horses, two cows," the Indian meekly said, with downcast eyes. "Ye're a pretty man. for a husband!". Mollle screamed. "Four horses, three cows, five buf falo skins, two white wolf skins," the Indian offered. "Away wid yet" Mollie exclaimed, stamping her feet, violently. "Four horses, three cows, five buf- ! fnlo skins, two White wolf skins, four caribou skins," the Indian bid for hli brlda. MoIIIe's quick Irish wit cate -- assistance. "I'U tell ye what I'll do,' she said, with a merry twinkle m her eyes. "I'll be yr squaw. If ye'll bring me fifty gray squirrel skins, a dozen mink skins, a half a dozen white wolf hides, an' tbe hides of two leopards. nn' the hides an' antlers of four rein doer; an' ye mofght bring me the wings of a white heron an' tbe breaet of two grebe." Tben Mollie adfled, laughing, "bring me a couple of the Tight-hand wings of the wild turkey to brush ma harth whan I'm a-keepin' me owa house." The Indian boy ejaculated: 1 "Ugh! Ugh!" Mr. Redfleld said: ""Neshoba promises to get all yon ask for.' "AU right thin be about It. ye wild Injin,". Molfie said, shooting Neshoba with her gingham apron. Neshoba raised his eyes and aald to iMr. Redfleld: . "Before yenow faflla.' Then be turned quickly and walked away. Neshoba promises to return before winter," Mr. Redfleld explained to Mol lle. It win take him an Ma loife to gttaU thlm hides," Mollie said, laughing. "You've asked a good deal of the poor Indian, I think," said Mr. Bedfleld. Sure, I did. I want to keep him busy a-ahootln' wild beasts the rest of his lolfe, so hell not be botherln' me all the tolme," said Mollis, The winsome Irish girl stood at the door to watch her lover depart The In dian mounted his shaggy pony and gal loped westward. Mollle gazed stead fastly after him nntll the horse and rider were a mere speck on the horizon. Then she gave a sigh of relief and went to work with a merry heart All summer Mollle played the co quette with the mountain trapper, the cowboy and another admirer, a Mexi can ranchman, who had traveled many mile on hearing of the Irish girl's charms. But she baffled them alL 'Away wld ye! Yer blarney I'll not listen to," she would say. At another time she would encourage them, say ing: "Arrah, some day I'U choose me husband." So the three lovers waited patiently, each thinking that he was the favored one. One evening in early autumn Mollle was busy at work In the kitchen. She heard footsteps In the yard, so sbe flung open the door, exclaiming: "An who comes a-courtln' me to-night?" There stood Neshoba. Mollle could scarcely see blm because of the pelts and feathers that bung from his body. Ow ow owl Begone, ye wild In- JlnT' the girl screamed. Neshoba stepped across the threshold and threw down at the feet of Mollie fifty squirrel skins, a dozen mink skins, half a dozen white wolf hides, two leop ard pelts, the hides and antlers of four reindeer, the wings of a white heron, the breasts of two grebe and two wild turkey wings. The Indian pointed al the trophies, then at Mollle, saying: "Squaw." Mollle ran to the farthermost corner of the room and climbed upon a rough beam and there she cringed upon her oerch like a terrified bird, while the Indian fixed his hawk like glance upon her. Mr. Redfleld heard tbe commotion and hastened to tbe kitchen. When he saw Neshoba he said: "Oh, MoUle, we've played a serious joke on the poor Indian. What sball 1 say to him r Tell him to be daclnt an' go away loike a glntleman. I'll give him money fer all bis hides," said Mollie. The Indian understood Mollle's pro posal. He said, persistently: "Squaw, squaw." Slnd him off, Mr. Redfleld; slnd him off r Mollle said. Mr. Retinoid argued with Neshoba, fyjt tlM-lenoiXSOJtftr saying: squaw pruuiuR. Mr. Redfleld offered him money, but tbe Indian would not take It Mollie kept crying out: "Slnd him away or I'll die!" At last Neshoba gathered up his pelts and walked slowly out of the door. Mollle descended from the beam and fell all in a heap at Mr. Redfleld' feet, crying: "Re me sowl, I've sinned:" From that moment all the bllthesome- ness died out of the Irish girl's life. A great cloud overshadowed ber gay spirit Her merry heart seemed ta turn to a lump of lead; she could neither laugh nor sing. Her three loven called , dally. MolUe told them: "Mt heart is broke fer the poor Injin. I'll marry no man." Mrs. Redfleld tried ta comfort the girl, bnt Mollle answered I hate the big prairie; It reminds m of Neshoba. I hate this wild, hathen ish lolfe. Oh, poor Neshoba! I'v killed the honest Injln's sowl. I must go away to a convent to find comfort.'' So Mollle went back East and enter ed an order of the Sisters of Mercy, where she spent tbe rest of her life do- Ing deeds of kindness to atone for her sins. a . v j u.au- .... j window, which faced westward. foi the soul of her Indian lover. Mr. Redfleld never saw Neshobs i t rtt that he rushed again. r unarmed into one of the Indian battler and was killed. New York Ledger. Saved Her Boalp. A remarkable surgical operation bar been recently performed ln Paris. A laundress had her scalp torn ofT fron the nape of the neck to the eyebrow: by her hair catching ln some belting She was taken to the Broussals Hos pltal, where Dr. Malherbe, after seelni her, sent for her scalp. He obtained 1 after a delay of several hours, shave off tbe hair, washed It with antiseptics and applied It In place again. Thi scalp has grown on to the head. London's Cnfortanate Births. Over 1,000 children are born year) In London workhousea. Passive Aaaistanoe. Archduke Helnrich of Austria, desli Ing to marry Leopoldlne Hofman) against the will of the Emperor, hi upon the expedient of arranging fo the "passive assistance" of a priest wbo dared not celebrate a marrlag nnder pain of the Emperor's angel This marriage Is recorded aa one of tb most peculiar ceremonies ever witness ed. . The Archduke gave a banquet t which he Invited the priest. After th soup had been served he rose In hi t.it, tk rr.a.t. ..nurtul v ' 7 ' . "JY; .. toast But the Archduke, pointing ti Mtss Hofmann, pronounced slowly ant solemnly the word, "Most reverend this la my wife." Miss Hofmann Immediately after ward rose In her turn and said, "Thl; Is my husband." According to the theory of "paaalvi assistance" tn Germany and Austria these words spoken before a priest ren dered the marriage of the pair valli and sacramentaQy concluded. The Em peror was said to be extremely aston Uhed, bnt could do nothing. Youth' Companion. Tbe Horsey Mi An early Anglo-Saxon custom, strict ly followed by newly married couple was that of drkrklng diluted honey for thirty daya after marriage. From thil custom cornea tbe word honeymoon or honeymonth. at mail hates to har SERMONS OF THE DAY by Br. Or. Tahnag. Sabjeet: "DUlianMt Transaction Oae mt tha Crying Evil of Modern Lite Is tbe Abase of Troat Rewaro of tbe Wen f Pecmlatton Ad vie ta Bntlaaaa Men. Tkxt: "Whose trust shall be a spider's web." JobviU. 14. The two most skillful architects In all the world are the bee and the spider. The one puts np a sugar manufactory and the other ootids a slaughter house for files. On a bright summer morning when- the sun comes ont and shines noon the spider's ' -21 .kI'S ll fir.am.!rio'"??t wenty years. When executors "," tl, .ii ST" ratr'tn:poo"r fl'v which latter part of that very day ventures on it j and Is caught and dungeoned and de stroyed! The fly was informed that It was a free bridge and would eost nothing, bnt at the other end of tbe bridge the toll paid was Its own life. The next day there! comes down a strong wind, and away go' tbe web and the marauding spider and, the victimised fly. So delicate are tbe silken threads of the spider's web that many thousands of th era are put together , hfntA IhH nnm m r ( . 1 1 .1 u t n th, human ' -1 V iui t . AX V u . r mina, soul stana on, stand oni aoscraoc !y.v.'Ji ' ?ke" 4 W.:00P of then, o make pul ,i dtecn98,on ma'Bt Btep la, on thls a thread as large as the unman balr. Most I option. Faith and repentance are abso crnel as well as most ingenious Is the neoessary, but faith and repentance , spider. A prisoner In the Bastille, France, ra n more &ettlaes ot the Bible than . Z. BO tr,nT1 at, tne sou do oi tne vtuiiu u eTory uay came lor us rami flies. The author of my text, who was a leading scientist of his day, had no doubt watched the voracious process ot this one i insect with another and saw spider and fly swept down with the same broom or scat . tered by the same wind. Alas that tbe world has so many designing spiders and victimized flies! i There has not been a time when tbe utter and black irresponsibility of many ; men having tbe financial interests of others in charge has been more evident than ln these last few years. Tbe bank ruptcy of banks and disappearance ot ad. miolstrators with the funds of large estates and tbe disordered accounts otUnlted States off cials have sometimes made a pestilence , of crime that solemnizes every thoughtful man and woman and leads every philan thropist and Christian to ask, What sball .be done to stay tbe plague? There is ever . and anon a monsoon of swtndle abroad, a ' typhoon, a sirocco. I sometimes ask my ; self If It wonld not be better for men mak j lng wills to bequeath the property directly to the executors and officers of the court j and appoint tbe widows and orphans a i eommittee to see that the former cot all tnat am not belong to tnem, i ,a2t l9,,11not th"? are. '"e nnmb.er ' u.u uv wu.vwk . v luau,. sua aimui. rrhA bIim ..Is and members of expensive clubhouses and controlling country seats wbo are not worth a dollar If they return to others their just rights. Under some sudden re verse they fail, and with afflicted air seem to retire from the world and seem almost ready for monastic life, wben in two or three years they blossom out again, hav ing compromised with their creditor! tbat is, paid them nothing bat regret, and the only difference between the second chap ter of prosperity and the first is that their pictures are Hurillos instead of Eensettc and their horses go a mile In twenty sec onds less than their predecessors, and in stead of one county seat they have three. aueaa ouiiiua, j cat. u is (suit uiiriUK toai liwxavja I have watched and have noticed that nine out of ten of those wbo fail in what is called high life have more means after thar ; be fore the failure, and In many of tb' sef failure Is only a stratagem to escspn-rh payment of honest debts and pot the world j off the trcck while they practice a large , swindle. There is something woeful!) I wrong in the fact that thesetbings are pos sible. First of all, I charge the blame on care i less, indifferent bank directors and boards ! having in charge great financial institu tions. It ought not to be possible for a president or cashier or prominent officer ot a banking institution to swindle it year after year wltnont detection. 1 will under take to say that If these frauds are carried on for two or three years withont detec tion el t ner tne directors are partners m the infamy and pocket part of the theft 01 they are guilty of a culpable neglect ol duty for which Qod will bold them as re sponsible as He holds tbe acknowledged d fraaders. What right have prominent business men to allow their names to M tution so that unsophisticated people art tnereny mauced to deposit tneir money in or bay tbe scrip thereof when they, the published directors, are doing noth ing for the safety of the institution; It Is a case ot deception mosl reprehensible. Many people with a surplus of money, not needed for immediate use although it may be a little further on in dispensable, are without friends competent to advise them, and they are guided solely by tne character of tbe men wboss names are associated with the Institution. When i the banks went tbe small earnings and limited fortunes of widows and orphan: and tbe helplessly aged, tbe director: stood witn idiotic stare, and to tbe inquiry I "t5 irepwea aeposuors auastocaaoiners wno baa lost tneir all, and to tbe arraign- ment of an Indignant public, had nothing to say except: "We thought it was all right. We did not know there was any thing wrong going on." It was their duty to know. They stood in a position which deluded the people with the Idea tbat they were carefully observant. Calling them selves directors, they did not direct. Th.y had opportunity of auditing accounts ad inspecting the books. No tluta to do so? Tben they had no business' to accept the position. It seems to be the pride of some moneyed men to be directors In a great many Institutions, and all they know is whether or not they get their dividends regularly, and their names are used as de coy docks to bring others near enough to be made game of. What first of all is needed Is tbat 600 bank directors and In surance company directors resign or at tend to tLeir business as directors. Tbe business world will be fall ot fraud just as long as fraud Is so easy. Wben you arrest the president and secretary of a bank for an embezzlement carried on for many years, be sure to have plenty of sheriffs oat the same day to arrest all tbe directors. They are guilty either of neglect or complicity. We must especially deplore the misfor tunes of banks In various parts of this country in that they damage the banking institution, which is the great convenience of the centuries and indispensable to com merce and the advance of nations. With one hand it blesses the lender, and with the other It blesses the borrower. On their Bhoulders are tbe Interests of private j Individuals and great corporations, ln them are the great arteries through which run the currents of tbe nation s life, i bsy have been the resources of tbe thousands ot financiers ln days of business exigency. They stand for accommodation, for facll- Ity. for individual. State and national re- lief. At their head and in their manage ment there are as much Interest and moral worth as tn any class ot men, perhaps more. How nefarious, then, the behavior of those who bring disrepute upon this venerable, benignant and God honored in stitution. We also deplore abuse of trust funds be cause the abusers fly In the face of divine goodness wnich seems determined to bless this land. We are having a series of unex ampled national harvests. Tbe wheat gamblers get hold of the wheat, and the corn gamblers get hold of tne corn. The full tide of God's mercy toward this land Is pnt back by those great dikes ot dishonest resistance. When God provides enough food and clothing to feed and apparel this whole nation like princes, the scramble of dishonest men to get more than their share, and get it at all hazards, keeps everything tnasrng with uncertainty ana everybody asking "What next?" Every week makes new revelations. How many more bank presidents and hank cashiers have been peculating with other people's money, and ' how many more bank directors are In 1m- i beclle silence, letting the perfidy go on. the great and patient God only knowsl My opinion Is tbat we have got nerr the bot tom. Tbe wind has been pricked from the great babble of American speculation. The men wbo thought tbat the judgment day was at least 6000 years off found It la 1898 or 187 or 1896. And this nation has been tangbt that men must keen their haods lnesses built on borrowed capital have j been obliterated, and men wbo ha't noth i Ing have lost all they bad. I believe we ' are on a higher earner of prosperity than . this land has ever seen, if, and if, and if. I If tbe first men, and especially Christian I men, will learn never to speculare anon borrowed capital if yon have a mind to take your own money and tarn It into kites to fly them over every common In the , United States, you do society no wrong, except when you tumble your be'pleM children Into the poorboose fortbenblls I to take care or. Bat you have no right to ; take the money of others and tarn it into j kites. There Is one word that has deluded . more people Into bankruptcy than any I otuer worn in commercial lire, and tuat is .n--.iki. - .it n,. .i.f.i.i . j " " tne word norrow. mat one AM l M. k!. i j a ... '. ouolude to speculate with tbe funds of an mmitted to the" not purloin; they say they only borrow. i uea DaiJicr aiHura an wicrunm apun he only borrows. If I had only a worldly weapon to use on this sibject, I would give you the fact, fresh from tbe highest authority, that ninety per eeot. of those who go into wild speculation lose all, hat I have a better warning than a worldly warning. From the plaoe wbere raen have perished'-body, . ... commercial Integrity. "Bender to all their does." "Owe no man anything." And while I mean to preach faith and repent ance, more and more to p-each tbem, I do not mean to spend any time in cbasing the Hittites and Jebusites and Girgashites of Bible times when there are so many evils right around as destroying men and wom en for time and for eternity. The greatest evangelistlo preacher tbe world ever saw, a man who died for his evangelism peer less Paul wrote to the Romans, "Provide things honest tn the sight of all men;" wrote to tbe Corinthians, "Do that which is honest;" wrote to the Pbillppiaus, "Whatsoever things are honest;" wrote to the Hebrews, "Willing in all things to live honestly." The Bible savs that faith with out works Is dead, which, being liberally translated, means that if your business life does not correspond with your profession your religion Is a humbug. uatnered ln ail religious assemblages there are many who have trust fun is. It is a compliment to you tuat you nave Deen so Intrusted, bat I' charge you, ln the pres ence of Qod and the world, be as careful of tbe property of others as you are care ful of your own. Above all, keep your own private account at tbe bank separate from your account a trustee of an estate or trustee of an institution. Tbat is tbe point at which thousands of people mnke ship wreck. They get the property of others mixed up with their own property; thev put It into investment, and away it all goes, and they cannot return tbat which they borrowed. Then comes the explo ion, and tbe money market is shaken, and the press denounces, and the church founders expulsion. You have no right to use the property of others, except for their advantage, nor without consent, un less they are minors. If with tbeir consent you invest their property as well as you can and it Is ail lost, you are not to blame. You did the best you could. But do not come into the delusion which bas ruined so many men ot thinking because a thing Is in their possession therefore it Is theirs. Yon have a solemn trust tbat God has given you. In any assumblage there may be some who have - misappropriated trust iiSds Put tnem tk6k, 0 II you have -so hopelessly Involved them that you cannot put them back confess the whole thing to those whom you have wronged and vou will sleep better nights and you will have tbe better chanK for your soul. What a sad thing it would be if after you are dead your administrator should lind out from the account books or from the lack ot vouchers tbat you are not only bankrupt in estate, bnt that you lost your soul! If all the trust funds that have been misappropriated should suddenly fly to their owners and all the property tbat hat been purloined should suddenly go back to Its owners, it would crash intc ruin every city in America. A missionary in one of the islands of the Pacific preached on dlsuones.y, and tbe next morning he looked oat of his window and be saw bis yard lull or goods of all kinds. Ue wondered and asked the cauee gods tbat we have been worshiping permit ua to steal; but according to what you said yesterday, tbe God ot heaven and earth will not allow this. So we bring back all these goods and we ask you to help as In taking tbem to tbe places where they belong." if next Sabbath all the minister: In America should preach sermons on tbe abuse of trust funds and on the evils ol purloining, and tbe ser.nons were all blessed of God and regulations were made tbat all these things should be taken ta jtbe city balls. It would not be long be Tore levery cltv hall in America would be cro ded from cellar to cupola. Let me say in the most emphatic man ner to all young men, dishonesty will never Ipay. An abh)t wauted to buy a piece ot ground and tbe owner would not sell It, but the owner II nail y consented to let it to him until he could raise one crop, and the abbot sowed acorns, a crop of 200 yearsl And I tell you, young man, that tbe dishonesties which you plant In your heart and life will seem to be very insig nificant, but they will grow up until they will overshadow you with horrible dark less, overshadow all time and all eternity. It will not be a crop for 200 years, but a crop for everlasting ages. I have also a word ot comfort for all who suffer from the malfeasance of others, and every honest man, woman and child does suffer from what goes on in financial scampdom. Society i so bound together tbat all the misfortunes which good people suffer in business matters come from the misdeeds of others. Be:ir up un der distress, strong ln God. He will see you through, though your misfortunes should be centupled. Scientists tell us that a column of air forty-five miles Jn height rests on every man's head and shoulders. Bat that Is nothing compared with the pressure tbat business life has put upon many of you. God made up His mind long ago how many or how few dollars it would be best for yon to have. Trust to His appointment. The door will soon open to let you out and let you up. What shock ot delight for men who for thirty years have been in business anxiety when tbey sball suddenly awake In everlasting holiday I On the maps of the Arctic regions there are two places whose names are remarkable, given, I suppose, by some polar expedition Cape Fare well and Thank God Harbor. At this last tbe Polaris wintered in 1871 and the Tigress In 1S73. Some ships Imva Eassed the cape, yet never reached the arbor. But from wbat I knoyof many of you I have concluded tbat, though jour voyage of life may be very rot-gb, x. n in to by Icebergs on thi- side and Icebergs ou that, you will in due time resell Cape I-'are. well, and there bid goodbye 1c all annoy ances, and soon after d-.op accuor in the calm and imperturbable waters of Tuanfc God Harbor. "There tbe wicked lease from troubling and the weary are r.i rest." First Time. Miss Sharp e I celebrate my 24 tL V.i-thdny to-morrow. Miss Oldage Indeed! And lsntlt tiuguiar? So do I. " Miss Sliarpe Oh, but I celebrate mine for the first time! London Tit Bits. Patent Cash t errier. "It runs from here to the rear of the store and thence to the fifth story, where the cashier receives it," the clerk rx plained. "I gosh! I guess Mandy was right when she told me this was the store whur a little mouey went a long ways.'' Indianapolis Journal : l l ' i r ; i n : J i r - ' "a il .HI lis J
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers