'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
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