f
V
9
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE COnSTITUTIOn - THE UM0I1---AI.D THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
V
VOL. IAV.
MIPFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENN., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1900
NO. 40
II I I I 1111 mMBPW"
(Japtaitj grabajou
BY B. TVZ.
.Ailitapy.FomAnce.of.gocjtl2Fiic
CHAPTER VIII. Continued.)
Closer and closer he came; his eye
bent od the ground, his bands behind his;
back, evidently lost in the deepest ab
straction, lie had approached to within
a few pares of the summer house. Ksme's
heart was thumping as loudly as a big
drum, it seemed to her own terrified ears,
and that every other sound was swallow
ed up in its audible pulsation. Miles
came nearer. lie was within a yard of
the summer house, and while they them
selves were wrapped in darkness, he him
self stood In the full view of the search
ing moonlight. They could note the ac-
curacy of his tie, the rather withered '
little Bower In his buttonhole, the part- a ruffle here, straightening a fold there,
lng of his hair, the gold links in his shirt and rearranging her diamond stars as de
cuffs. Now he stood on the very step, iiberatelv as if she were in her own anart-
Tben he turned Blowly away and began
to retrace his footsteps.
"Oh, Ted, I feel so dreadfully fright- !
ened," murmured Esme. "1 know I'm This old dame waited for some five mla
very foolish; for, after all, if he had come j nta with Ill-concealed Impatience, and
In, and I had told him who you were H gj,, waited she had ample time to
were would nave been no harm done. '
wuir lie m. luk uci i iu
ue family mack Bboep! :
"I believe Mrs. Brabazon told him yon
were dead! '
"Upon my word! She does not stick
at a trifle!"
"Oh, Teddy! may not 1 tell him?" '
iou snau tne moment l get my com-
7. , -"oner: -usi JT
a u u 1 cr a t n a j a ttj iiupriuuus, auu iu aunt
a hurry about everything. I'm glad I've
had a good stare at him. lie's a good
looking fellow; very like that picture in
the hall the chap with the dish-cover
and red sash, that was killed at Naseby!"
"I suppose you mean Rupert Brabason,
in the steel cuirass?" - -
"Yes. I'm glad to have seen him," nod
ding his head toward his now distant
cousin, "but I doubt if the satisfaction
would be mufual were be to see me."
In another moment Esme had said a
harried, good night to her brother, dart
ed round the corner of the summer
house, and buried herself in a thick,
dusky walk, which led straight to the
friendly side door, through which she
vanished.
Miles had been a prey to Mrs. Braba
aon all the evening, her grand friends,
her health, and her airs; bound to her
side by strong social cords, he could not
get away, but he had not been indiffer
ent to the fact that Esme had stolen out
of the room an hour ago. He had seen
her running down the pleasure ground.
Why should he not slip out, too, and me-
ander by ber side through the shady
walks under the chestnut trees, instead
of being pinned to the apron strings of
prosy, egotistical old woman? At last
he was released, and had come out in
hopes of meeting Esme. He was going
away for a whole week, and to return
and learn his fate at the bachelors' ball
at Sandborough. which was to take place
within a week. Something told him that
the answer would be "Yes." But that
photo he had seen on the moss at his feet
that very morning kept protruding Its
ugly presence into, his rosy dreams, and
trying to imbue his mind with the poi
sonous taint of suspicion. Who could It
have been? A man in uniform. "No
one that Esme cared a straw about," he
kept assuring himself, but still it was a
man in uniform! His soul shrunk from
the plain truth, but was compelled to em
brace it, all the same; Esme and his aunt
had positively assured him that she had
no other suitor but himself, and he be
lieved them. He was not such an infidel
as to doubt the solemn word of two ladies
of his own family one who bore the
weight of years of uprightness, and the
other who looked at him with eyes so
true and so frank that, if her tongue had
dared to utter a falsehood, they them
selves would have betrayed her.
That meeting at the gate he had now
put down to Miss Bell. Yes, he had
been mistaken; Esme and Miss Bell were
friends; she had been from home, and
he was an unusually tall young woman,
of almost masculine proportions. "
the apparition at the gate was peaceful y
laid It is wonderful how young men In
love will eagerly furbish up and P"
excuses to themselves, and accept them.
rather than be brought face to face with
any little imperfection or flaw In their
divinity. The photograph. Miles boldly
t.hi himself, was some public character.
0 ris carried all manner of queer thing
in he "Sockets, as he knew from his
experiencTof his own sister Esme had
1 S for collecting the photos of roy
alties and celebrities Why should not
" nature be the Crown
Princeof Germany, our own Prince of
Wates or that handsome man. the late
ales, or i . what a tooi j,e
emperor . ;vr--
wi'"i Idtol about yon," said Uus-
.lo one afternoon, in sudden burst or
Sit 111 "and it Is very plain that he
frananess. - ,f fce had
has n"."" tetter than to show his
he would Y"l"A,mWf! the
" "! wt; bully von a little it
B" , , Z .1 I the better for him. poor, de
would be a" ""'-o,,, whIch it wiU
be seen that Augusta pitted Mlles"
ftIPTER IX.
The great day of the bachelors' ball.
aboJ 2 o'clock, you would have seen
about June, her two
her own maid. Flack, and Noke,
: Parting with a world or nagg-
The two Miss Clipperions and tneir meek
ine ' . th compartment In
which Brabazon. had taken their
!V.-1C TW, were two young ladies.
bound' for the ball, whose slangy conver
iZrlr made Miss Jane's hair come
V f 7nrl They wore their hair crop
riost'o their heads, very manly hats,
and collars, and were an entirely
eoal" ".j, to the dear old person
i'thbbTng curis and worked black
" Z handbag. They were going to the
me hotel-horror 1 their room were
taken.
And now behold our party
fZ. Wall and stepping delicately
Dn tne red doth carpeting which was
Sued at either aide by a dense, discrlm
"naUng crowd, who. exchanged audible
,"d critical remark, anent the arriving
-npany. . Mis. J. IM
on swept tneir yuuu , 7.
rtSrs before them into the ladies' wait
room, where great polling out of
touzlins of fringe and rear-
----- l Tkt
CROKER
lew arrivals were carefully Aoked oyer
y those already on the spot-Who were
iiese new girls?" was whispered. How
ever, they had some acquaintances, who
welcomed them cordially, helping them to
ake off their wraps, and envied Esme
ler first ball.
"Indeed, yon need not envy me," re-.-nrned
that young lady, emphatically; "if
t were my fifth or sixth, I should be far
nore easy in my mind. Feel me!" hopi
ng out her hand; "I'm quite cold and I'm
ihaking all over."
While this conversation was going on
Mrs. Brabazon had arrosated to herself
an entire toilet table, and was pulling out
ment, and not keeping an aristocratic
old lady, with a haughty nose and very
white hair, awaitlnz her rood Dleasure.
etudy the lady who was figuring before
tne glass with such aggravating tardi
ness. Suddenly she started, looked scru-
tinizlngly into Mrs. Brabazon's face and
gam , awe-struck tone, "Why, Jupp!
I declare it is Jupp! How do you come
here?" measuring her and her velvet
gown, lace, diamonds and all, from head
to foot.
MaUam," exclaimed the other, with a
face the color of a brick, "what do you
mean? trembling violently all over.
"1 mean that it is a pretty thing that
I should have to stand and wait while my
sister's maid arranges herself at the look
ing glass!" returned the other, in a hard.
uncompromising tone, and with an Inez
orable eye.
"I I am Mrs. Brabazon of Barons-
ford," replied that miserable woman
"you are making some mistake."
"None whatever 1" very decidedly;
"whoever you are now, yon were and are
Jupp; you can t deny it; and you know
me; you have brushed my hair and but
toned my boots many and many a time!
I am Lady Augnsta Sharpshooter, and
you are my sister
"Hush, Lady Augusta!" implored the
other; "for mercy sake, hush! You are
quite rigU. I have become what you see
the widow of a gentleman of fortune. 1
entreat yon to keep my secret, pleaded
Mrs. Brabazon, brought to her knees for
once in her life, and, i truth, a most ab
ject spectacle. At this moment Uussie
and Esme came forward, accompanied
by Miss Jane, and declared "that they
were quite ready now, if she was," and.
with an extraordinary effort to regain her
composure, and one beseeching glance at
her austere old acquaintance, Mrs. Brab
azon was carried away. No words could
paint her feelings; she felt that veri
table sword of Damocles was hanging
over her head. She had no spirit to
seek ont and attach heraelf to the great
ones of the land. She sac alone and aloof
tor fully half the evening, reviling fate
for having sent Lady Augusta across her
path, and asking herself what the world
would say wben tney were acquainted
with her former career.
As Esme stood under the gallery and
gazed timidly about her, she felt abso
lutely dazzled; the immense hall was
filled by a gay crowd, who were walking,
standing, sitting after the second dance.
Miles had appeared on the scene, full of
apologies for his tardy arrival, the sole
fault of the train, which was late. He
could hardly believe his eyes when he
beheld Esme floating around with such
grace, looking even more lovely than the
Image he had fondly carried away in his
mind. Certainly tnere waa no doubt that
this dress was an adornment, and that
even Esme was more beautiful in this
silvery gauze garment, with pearls on
her neck, flowers m her hands, excite
ment in her eyes, than In ber ordinary
common white gown, even when re-en
forced by the crimson parasol.
I have kept two dances for yon, said
she, holding out her hand with a smile.
"What! Only two?" ungratefully.
"Yes, lancers and waltz. Aunt Jane.
lowering her voice, "made me promise
ot to dance more than twice with any
ene.
"Not even with me? expressively.
"Not even with yon." Here Esme'
partner made a bow and retired grace
fully. "Evidently," he said to himself.
the dark fellow waa tn man
suppose yonr cara is raur
"Yes, I can't believe it," smiling; "for
I don't know anyone in the room. Isn't
It funny r
Excessively funny; most unaccounta
ble," replied Miles, with a smile quiver
ing under his mustache.
But who is your friend opposite? the
man with the shiny face, who ia nodding
at you like a mandarin
"Oh, look away, look away I he is
horror I met at the Topplngtons' Christ
mas party.
Esme, whispered her sister, breath
lessly, over her shoulder, "there's little
Madden, and he is coming over; he has
caught your eye; mind you mount your
very highest horse.
"Now for if," said Miles, as a little man
with a red face and the tallest of col
lars, and an air of being on admirable
terms with himself, advanced with a kind
of grin.
"So charmed to see yon. Miss Braba
zon; this is Indeed a treat. Hope you
have kept a couple of dances for mer
"No. I have not," very stiffly returned
the young lady, ost?ntatiousIy avoiding
the proffered hand.
"Ah! bur you're gong to da-ance this
with me are yon not? or the next? I'll
get you lots of partners. Don't you rec
ollect me?" in a tone slightly tinged with
amazement. "We had the pleasure of
meeting at Mrs. Top s."
"I do not remember the pleasure,
turned Esme, with very emphatic signi
ficance, while Miles and Gussie exchang
ed glances of the keenest delight.
But even this snnb had but little effect
on Mr. Madden. He rose .to the sur
face with cork-like buoyancy, and boldly
demanded at least one dance, and his per
sistent entreaties were only cut short by
Mile leading his partner away to take
their places in one of the rapidly form
ing sets of lancers.
"I did not thing yon had it In yon to
snub anyone bnt me. Poor beggar, you
were awfully rough on him," said Miles,
a they came to anchor.
Bought Yen don't know him!" vh
don,i,(
'At the Toppiagtona party he
, "
Txtfoxlcated V sngneated her compan
ion, interrogatively.
lea, very mnca so; he actually took
m for school girl, and had the impu
dence to try to kiss me under the mistle
toe," growing rather red. and speaking
very fast.
Confounded cad!" muttered Miles,
looking over m the direction of Mr. Mad
den with a countenance now the reverse
of indulgent or sympathetic
I appose," said he. looking round.
"that you are aa great a strager to all
then people aa I am, and you don't know
anyone from Adam?"
Not quite so bad as all that," respond
Bame, with a smile: "some of the
Maxton and Byford people are here.
There, yon see that nice-looking lady ever
there In the whit lace shawl, she is Mr.
Bell' alster. and between yon and me
that ia Mrs. Bell' shawl!" lowering her
vole to a whisper.
"Oh, and the girl near her in the swell
dress?"
"That 1 n bride and the old gentle
man with the bald head, holding her fan,
I her husband. She ia hla fourth wife."
"Oh, come now." in a tone of amused
expostulation.
"She Is!" indignantly.
"She la a coarageon -woman!" ejacu
lated Mile.
"How do yon do, Mia Brabazon?" said
tall, plain girl in a pink dress, accost
ing Esme In the tea room, while Miles
waa procuring her cup of coffee, ad
dressing her with such warmth that she
felt quite taken aback, for she had only
met Miss Coartenay Green at one or two
garden parties, and then she had barely
deigned to notice her save by a few tepid
monosyllables and a fishlike clasp of the
hand.
Your Brat ball, I suppose? 1 hope yon
are enjoying It," eying Esme' dress, as
be Books, with aa air of critical ins Dec
tion, looking at It sldewaya anV front
ways, and evidently not merely apprais
ing its value, but taking the pattern in
her eyes, as she drawled forth remarks
about the band, the floor and the lights,
in an abstracted manner. "Is that yout
cousin Captain Brabazon T' she asked,
having at length summed np Esme's ball
costume; "the dark young man who waa
dancing with yon?" lowering her voice
mysteriously.
"Yes." ,
"The one who has come in for anch
heaps of money?" with still greater ani
mation. "Very good looking, too. Voo
may introduce him to me when he comet
back. Here be la," eagerly. "Now,"
with a sharp nudge from a atill sharper
elbow.
Miles," said Esme, tn the innocence
of her heart, "what ages you have been
getting this coffee. Miss Courtenay Ureen
wishes you to be Introduced to her.
Miss Courtenay Green beamed and
bowed with laudable presence of mind,
bnt felt at the moment that she would
have been almost Justified in having Mist
Brabazon's life. However, Miles duly
begged leave to Inscribe his name on hei
rather empty program and led his part
ner once more back to the ball room.
(To be continued.)
PRECIOUS GEMS ARE GUARDED.
Tne Dealer Make Careful Note of All
Chance in Their Ownership.
The dealer in precious stone keeps
remarkable account of the valuable
gem which come into this country.
His business does not end when be suc
ceeds In disposing of a precious stone
or mounted piece at a good round fig
ure. He can tell bow many times It
has changed hands since it reached
these shores and usually he can tell
every person In the country who owns
anything In gems worth knowing
about. This city Is the great center
of these dealers, as It is through this
port that practically all gems enter.
The American woman buys the finest
diamonds that can be had In the medi
um sizes. In which the purest stone
comes. The mine rrom wblch the most
beautiful stones are taken, at Jaegcrs-
fonteln, in the Orange Free State, has
been shut up, as a great reef encoun
tered made it unprofitable to mine fur
ther. The next best diamonds come
from Wesselton. about fifty-two miles
from K'uiterley, and that. too. Ia shut
up on account of the war.
The finest large diamond wblch ever
came Into this country belonged to th
Mi.rgan collection. It weighed twenty
five carats and sold for about S100.U0G
There was one diamond of 128 caratt
sold In this city and another Klmbcrley
stone of seventy-six carats, but botb
were tinged with color and not nearly
so valuable as the Morgan gem. An
other single diamond sold in this city
less than three years ago for 42,OO0
and It Is now owned by a Western
woman. The American woman likes
her diamonds, not by ones or twos, but
by dozens and hundreds, and these are
formed Into tiaras, necklaces, corselets,
corsages and hair bouquets and sprays,
all arranged with or without other
stones, and so that they can be easily
detached and worn in separate pieces.
As the wealthy families of this coun
try come Into possesion of a large num
ber of diamonds, their taste turns to
ward colored stones. The ruby is pre
eminently the next In favor, and prices
higher than those paid for diamonds
are given for It. Two years ago a firm
in this city sold a single ruby for $25,
000. Last year there came a demand
for the emerald and a single beautiful
stone In the autumn brought a dealer
$20,000. New York Evening Post.
It is a great mistake to try to learn
wisdom out of books.
He who can stand the little trlaH i
fitted for the great trusts.
All lovely forms and objects are the
offspring of lofty and pure thoughts
and minds, and they are the natural
order when undisturbed by ain.
The Sheriff of Lancaster sold the
real estate of twenty debtors. 1
A crowd of Minersville toughs stoned
the house of a saloonkeeper, then en
tered the saloon and robbed the till.
Falling under a car he was trying to
board, at Kxcelsior, Patrick Wilkerson
had his right foot crushed.
Raymond Mowery. a boy. was kicked
in the Btomach by a horse. In Lurgan
township. Franklin county, and is in
a serious condition.
Hetty Long, of Logansport, was killed
by a fall through a trapdoor at her
home.
At Catawissa, Mrs. John Keifer died
of injuries received in a fall down the
cellar stairs.
Attacked by a dog, near Pottsvllie,
Harry Rodgers waa badty bitten about
the abdomen.
Do not trust your money to those who
keep their eyea on the floor.
Poverty is a great 'blessing to some
people.
Put your strength In your fight In
stead of in your challenge.
If you can't be a man and an angel
at the same moment postpone the an-
4r itosdit of
H, pahaw. YouY too1
mean tor anything:"
This exclamation in a
childish trebl so
startled Tost Gilles
pie that he drove Into
his thumb a traok he
was baiting, and
ly fell off the stump. He turned
beheld' aout ten feet distant a
n lull iMtelnir Tittle srirL who held a
aamera, and -whose evident deafen hid
keen t cfcoose him aa a subject tor a
nap allot.
H think you're the mean one," aaid
Tm; "ysn Marty made me tumble into
th water. And were yon going to take
ay picture? And did I move?"
"Ivil, tn tali the truth. I waa. aurt
you din," replied the unheralded arriv
al, paMatOr thtvwta back a mass of
L'town halt; which had tumbled over
her face wheat she stooped to adjust a
focus. "I want It for mamma, and It
was such a lovely chance. You don't
care, do you?"
"Car?" laughed big-hearted Tom;
"of course not: I'll alt any way you
want me to If youli send me one of tho
ploturea."
"Oh. aoodr: I'U do that!" eagerly
aamrt the tinv nhotoaTapher. "Oaa 1
x two?"
"Ail yon wish, my dear." promptly
oaasented Tom, "but how am I to get
niy picture?"
"I never thought of that" replied
Mildred, her sunny face clouding for an
Instant with perplexity.
"Well," auggested Tom, producing
a card after rummaging about In vari
ous pockets of his corduroy Jacket
among tobacco, books, lines, letters,
pipes, matches, trout flies, and other
sundries, "you mail It to me at this
address and I'll get It
"You'll get 'em about next week,"
pierced Mildred, as her chubby legs
mounted the bank of the creek. "Good
by I"
"Good-fcy!" cried Tom cheerily, and a
moment later she was gone.
The next morning, out on the horse
block. Mildred, with unusual care and
at least ten anxious peeks in the frame.
printed from her valued negative, ob
taining a result which quite delighted
ber. Before noon it was toned and
dried, and, swelling with pride, she
sought "Dearie,"
"There he Is, 'Dearie.' there he Is!'
she cried, -excitedly, throwing one arm
about her mother's neck and thrusting
out the picture with her disengaged
hand.
And then the queer thing happened.
"Tom!" gasped Mr. Wells, the blood
suffusing her cheeks.
"Why, 'Dearie,' you know him?"
asked Mildred, almost frightened, as
she peered Into ber mother' face with
wondering eyes.
Mrs. Wells' reply was to bury her
face in her bands and seek reMef In a
flood of tear.
The now terrified Mildred cried in
sympathy for a few seconds on her
mother's shoulder, and then suddenly
aaked, with keen concern.
" 'Dearie,' what are you crying for?"
"Nothing, darling." said Mrs. Wells,
raising her head and vigorously using
her handkerchief as she checked a final
and very womanlike snuffle, "but the
picture made mamma think of an old
friend."
"Well, It Just won't make you cry,"
aaid the now thoroughly aggrieved Mll-
dred. "I'll Just put It away and come
1ht t . ? 'h? W?t "di
A . - la- Jm a a n a In ai at. an atnAlv 1 w I
wvoaiuxi uw vi.ui .
her room. Then she returned to "Dear
ie, wh caresi uOT iiiuu., .uU .. lo8t thrpe OTercoat8 at a Cafe while en
"It's a rery nice picture, darling, and ' at h(J favorite pastime. He was
mamma, will keep it as long as she n a ,os8 to know how to pPevent a
Hve." 1 fourth from going astray, when all at
Th next day as Tom Gillespie sorted once a brilliant Idea occurred to him.
Ms mail, somewhat aimlessly, his indlf-1 immediately before sitting down to a
fere ace suddenly vanished as he picked
up an envelope on which was scrawled
a fall copy of his business card, and in
addition the caution: "For nobody but
Mr. Gillespie." Tom drew forth a let
ter and a crumpled and spotted picture,
which he immediately recognised as
that of himself on the stump.
"A .very mussy little girl," thought
Tom.. Then he read the epistle. It ran:
"Mr. Gillespie: I promised yon a pic
ture, and here it Is. Two were bad and
one was good. This was good. . I made
It this morning on one of the only two
pieces of printing paper I had. I
thought It waa fine until I showed It to
'Dearie,' my mamma. It made her cry.
The spots on It are her tears. She Just
aid Tom' and then she cried all ever
it and you see how she spoiled It. I am
going to make a good one for ber oa the
only piece of printing paper I have left
She aays she will keep It as long as she
lives. When I get more paper maybe
IH send you a better one. I also In
close a little picture of 'Dearie' sitting
on the horse block, so you can see what
she looks like. I made It. Isn't she
sweet? I shall keep your card a long
time, for I like you very much. Your
little friend,
"MILDRED WELLS."
Tom, whose fingers now . trembled,
took from the envelope the hitherto
overlooked picture of "Dearie." The
effect of his first glance was startling.
His pipe dropped from his month and
he flung himself back In his chair.
"Great heavens. Laura! At last! At
hut!" he exclaimed.
Despite the fact that he bad a case oa
In court. Tom left the trial to his Juniot ,
partner ana nurried.next day flown tc
the . farmhouse. He surprised Mildred,
who was putting a daisy cnain around
the neck of a cat.
"Have you come fishing again?" was
her salutation. :
"I certainly have," replied Tom,. al
ready feeling a Bort of proprietorship
as he stooped down and kissed her.
'And here," he continued, producing
a package from his pocket, "is printing
paper enough to keep yob busy ' a
month." - ' -
"Wat you're Just the loveliest man
& Siiop$fiot i
n earth r' exclaimed Mildred, and
Dearie' wlU think so, too."
"I sincerely hope so," earnestly re
sponded Tom; "but where ia mamma?"
Well, she's over there in that ham
mock ander the apple tr, and If ahe
Isn't reading sh 1 asleep and if ahe'
asleep you must not wake her up."
Not tor the world," gallantly cried
Tom. i "But let's go softly and see, I
think I know your 'Dearie.' "
On tiptoe, over the lawn,. Tom hold
ing Mildred's hand, they approached
the hammock. "Dearie" certainly was
asleep, and with a dainty handkerchief
covering her pretty face.
"Now, don't you scare her," cautioned
Mildred la a hoarse whisper, raising a
warning linger. "Isn't she sweet?"
"Lovely!" .whispered Tom In reply,
quietly sitting down on the grass by
the hammock and drawing Mildred be
side him. Thus, with a hand of the lit
tle one In his own, be sat and gazed un
til be broke the alienee with a "Thank
God!" which made the child start.
"Are you - praying f ahe asked,
hoarsely. In astonishment.
"Maybe I was, dear," he replied, un
der his breath, "but. hush!" !
Mrs. Wells stirred. Mildred could
stand It no longer. She bounded t th
side of the hammock, snatched the bit
of lace from "Dearie's" face, and, be
fore her bewildered mother could pro
test, kissed her and Bhouted, disregard
ing grammatical rules:
"He's came, 'Dearie,' he's cam
again!"
"Who. Mildred? What are you talk
ing about?" asked Mrs. Wells, rubbing
her eyes.
But before Mildred could reply, Tom
answered for her:
' "It's Tom, Laura," he said, quietly,
as he rose to extend his band. "I hope
you are glad to see me."
It was all so sudden that perhaps
"Dearie" was excusable for making no
response other than to turn and bury
her face In the hammock cushion.
Tom waited and Mildred looked on In
wonderment. In a moment, however, a
ruffled voice and a sort of gulp came
from the cushion.
"Tom, can you forgive me?"
Could he? It looked as If he did
when ten seconds later Mildred danced
np and down as Tom, kneeling at
"Dearie's" side, brought the pretty
bead around and then gave proof In
such a way that Mildred excitedly
shouted; . '""
"That's right! Kiss ber! She can't
help herself. Ain't he lovely, 'Dearie? "
. "Now, you go get your camera and
make your pictures," said Tom to- Mil
dred, as he settled himself In the ham
mock, by "Dearie's" side. "We'll be
here for half an hour." And although
Mildred's alacrity brought ber back In
less than ten minutes, Tom managed to
Uay so much before her return that
"Dearie's" heart .was lighter than it
bad been In years. And, of course, Tom
stayed to dinner and far Into the moon
lit night and took a long walk with
"Dearie" and they talked it all over.
When fifteen years' previously Laura
Hale, to please her parents, bad refused
lo marry Tom Gillespie and became the
wife of Willis Wells. Tom, nearly
heartbroken, hod left her side to hope
and wait, believing that her love was
still for him. a then almost penniless
lawyer. Then their paths drifted apart
until Tom's fishing rod and Mildred's
nmera brought them together. Buf
falo Enquirer.
How He Managed.
Absent-minded person, are the easy
w
nPM. f th, unscmDulous. A noted
1 German chess-playing professor had
game he took his brand-new garment.
bung It over the back of his chair, leant
against it, and said to himself with
a grateful feeling of perfect security.
"Now it must be safe." He soon be
came deeply engrossed In his game,
wben a light-fingered gentleman ap
proached, and apparently became
greatly Interested. At a critical mo
ment he tapped the professor on the
shoulder, exclaiming, "Excuse me."
"Don't mention It," returned the ab
sorbed player bending forward. Like
lightning, the thief withdrew the coat
from the chair, and a moment later had
disappeared into the street.
Numbering Country Hooaea.
Out in California they are urging the
adoption of a system of numbering
country resldenoes, reckoning from th
county seat aa a center, and thus ren
der the location of a point In the rural
sections as simple as within city limits.
The plan Is to name every road In the
county, first arranging them in as long
lwugths as can well be done. Then di
vide each mile Into ten parts or blocks
of the same length, and number them,
a new number to each frontage.
Reproving an Umbrella Fiend.
The citizens of Berlin nave a sum
mary method of stopping the danger
ous practice of carrying sticks and um
brellas horizontally. Aa soon as a man
tucks bis umbrella under 'his arm be
will promptly feel a quick blow on it
from behind. There Is no use In hla
getting angry with the person who
strikes the blow, because public opin
ion sanctions his conduct.
HI Bxperlenoe.
A Pittsburg physician who thought of
taking his colored servant with him oa
a projected fishing trip- Interrogated
him as to his acquaintance with aquat
ics. After a few preliminary qneations
he asked:
"Have you ever rowed, James?"
"Only on the cyan, sab." Pittsburg
Chronicle-Telegraph. . ' .
It. people were to get paid for all the
foolish things tbey say and do poverty
would soon be a thing of too past.
RAOKS THE JOINTS MIGHTILY.
tnaaaBaaatory Khenaaattaas Ia a Coaa
plalat No One Need Covet.
The name rheumatism Is applied to a
great variety of affections accompan
ied with pain In the Joints or muscles,
some of them more of a gouty or uric
acid nature, others probably of Infec
tious origin, and others still the expres
sion of some disease of the nervous
structures.
Acute articular or Inflammatory rheu
matism is a disease characterized t
pain and swelling in one or more of the
Joints, usually the larger bones, such
as the knee, together with fever of
more or less intensity. It Is a disease
f temperate climates, especially In
cold and damp regions, being very sel
dom seen ia the tropics.- It occurs in
this country chiefly in late winter and
early spring, although It may occv,
particularly on the seacoast. at any
time of the year. In England It Is
said to be most frequent in the autumn.
It attacks persons between the agea
of 15 and 40 more commonly than those
who are older or younger.
Physicians are not yet agreed as to
its nature, although many now incline
to regard it as a germ disease. It be
gins gradually, with slight aching In
the limbs, sore throat and a general
feeling of depression. The appetite
falls, the tongue Is heavily coated, o:en
there is complaint of headache, and of
chilly sensations and the sufferer 1
generally "out of sorts." There Is fev-
erishness, and as this Increases, pain
and swelling appear In one or more of
the large Joints. The, Joints attacked
are hot, red and exquisitely painful and
have every appearance ot being severe
ly Inflamed.
All these symptoms may disappear In
a single night from one Joint and ap
pear at the same time In another; and
so the disease may go on, attacking
one Joint after another, those first af
fected recovering much of their tone
and function. One of the characteris
tic symptoms Is profuse perspiration,
the skin is not red and dry, as In most
fevers, but cool, moist and sometimes
actually dripping with sweat.
The disease may come to an end in a
week or ten days, or it may go on at
tacking Joint after Joint and when all
have suffered It may begin over again
and so go on Indefinitely. As long a
the rheumatism Is confined to the
Joints there little danger, although
occasionally death results from exces
sive fever; but there Is always danger
that it may attack the lining membrane
of the heart and cripple the organ per
manently. Rarely it attacks the mem
brane of the brain, causing violent de
lirium or death. Youth's Companion.
Racing Camels.
Of nil animals the camel would seem
to be the least likely to distinguish it
self at a race, yet camel races are bald
regularly in the south of Algeria, where
valuable prizes are offered for the en
couragement of the breed of racers;
and as much Interest Is taken In their
preparation and performances as In
that of race horses at Latonia. The rac
ing camels are the result of very care
ful breeding through many generations,
and in size, temper and appearance
tney are so different from the ordinary
beast of burden that they might almost
be considered a different race of ani
mals. Perhaps the most conspicuous
characteristic of the ordinary camel is
Its extreme slowness. Nothing on earth
will ever Induce It to hurry. Twenty
five dollars will buy a very fair speci
men, but for a mehart, or racing camel.
live or ten times that sum Is paid. The
racer, however, can be depended on for
nlno or ten miles an hour, kept up for
sixteen or seventeen hours almost with
out a stop. The pace In a camel race Is
generally fast and furious at the begin
nlng, when all the animals are together
and seem to realize that a contest Is In
progress.
Aa African Glantec.
Abomah, a superb specimen of the
African negress, who enjoys the dis
tinction of being the tallest woman liv
ing, is black as ebony, and endowed
with great physical strength, com
bined with a symmetrically molded fig
ure. 1s now on her way to Liverpool.
She was formerly one of the attend
ants and body guard of the barbaric
King of Dahomey, whose Amazonian
warriors have been famous alike for
their prowess and cruelty. Trained for
ber bloodthirsty calling from early
childhood, she was Inured to hardship
and pain. Her stature Increasing out
ol proportion to her years, she became
a particular favorite of the monarch,
and led his army. This extraordinary
woman stands over eight feet in height,
and can easily support the weight of a
man on her outstretched hand. The
dusky beauty, having recently evinced
a strong desire to travel, and particu
larly to visit England, will no doubt
soon pay a visit to some of our princi
pal cities. London Tlt-Blts.
Bamboo in China.
Bamboo is of universal use in China.
The windows are delicate lattice work
of bamboo, a.nd the furniture Is of slen
der bamboo, bent and curled and plait
ed. The water- bucket is a good big
stalk, sawed off Just below the Joint'
and made as deep as needed above it
For a bottle a slender piece is taken
and treated in the same way. Hunge
Is kept off by cutting the little temk
shoots Just as they peep from th.
ground and cooking them like aspars
gus.
Modern Way of Mending Hock.
Stockings and socks can be easily re
paired by means of toe and heel caps
which are being made for the purpose
and are adapted to fit over the won
parts and be sewed In position.
"Our cook was going to leave yester
day, but my wife's diplomacy savel
the day."
"Is that soy
"Yes; when the cook gave notice, mj
rife, with great presence of mind, said
That's too bad, Bridget, but I'm no
surprised. Several of the neighbors'
girls predicted that you would leave
because yon knew yon wouldn't have
any show with the handsome new po
liceman who la shortly to be assigned
to this beat.' " Fhitadelpbta Press.
A hahv la a mia wftKMi Hmmis
thorn, gradually appear a. It reach
mm of i day
Preached by Rev. Dr. Talmage
Subject i The Oardna of the Klne Chrlrt
the Founder and Oardflttav Tb Flow
en and Fruits of Religions levotioa
Th Beauty of Right Living.
(CopjTfRht 1KW.I
WaBIIIKGTON. D. C This sermon Dr.
Talmage sends from a halting place in
his journev throueh the vallevs of Switz
erland. It seems to have been prepared
amid the bloom and aroma of a garden
midsummer. The text is Song ot Solo
mon v, 1. "I am come into my enrden."
The Rible is a ereat noem. We have in
it faultless rhythm and bold imagery nnci
startling anthithesis and rapturous lyric
and sweet pastoral and instructive narra
tive and devotional psalm; thoughts ex-
prepsea in stvle more solemn than that
of Montgomery, more bold than that
of Milton, more terrible than that ot
Dante, more natural than that of Words
worth, more impassioned than that of
Pollok, more tender than that of Cowper,
more weird than that of Spenser. This
great poem brings all the gems of the
earth into its cordhat, and it weaves the
flames of judgment into its garlands and
pours eternal harmonies in its rhvtlim.
Everything this book touches it makes -I
beautitul, trom the plain stones of the
summer thrashing floor to the daughters
of Nahor fillinr the troujrhs for the cam
els; from the fish pools of Heshbon up to
the psalmist praising (Sod with diapason
of storm and whirlwind, and Job's im
agery of Orion. Arcturus and the Pleiades.
My text leads us into a scene of sum
mer redolence. The world lias had a
great many beautiful gardens. Charle
magne added to the glory ot his reign hv
decreeing .hat they be established all
through the realm deciding even the
names of the flowers to be planted there.
Henry IV., at Montpelier, established
pardens of bewitching beauty and luxu
riance, gatherins into them Alpine, Py
renean and French plants. One of the
sweetest spots on earth was the frardon of
Shenstone, the pocj. His writings have
made but little imnrcssion on the world.
but Lis garden, "The Ieasowes," will be
immortal. To the natural advantages of
that place was brought the perfection of
art. Arbor and terrace and slope and
rustic temple and reservoir and urn nnl
fountain here hart their crowning. Oak
and yew and hazel put forth their richest
foliage, ibere was no lite more diligent,
no soul more ingenious than that of
Sbenstone, and all that diligence and ge
nius he brought to the adornment of that
one treasured spot. He gave 300 for it;
he sold it for 17,000. And yet I am to
tell you to-day of a richer garden than
any I have mentioned. It is the garden
spoken of in my text, the garden of the
church, which belongs to Christ, for my
text says so. lie bought it. lie planted it.
He owns it. and He shall have it.
alter Scott, m his outlay at Abbots-
ford, ruined his fortune, and now, in the
?rimson flowers" of those gardens, you can
almost think or imagine that you see the
blood of tha old man's broken heart
The payment of the last 100,000 sacri
ficed him." But I have to tell you that
Christ's love and Christ's death were the
outlay of thij beautiful garden of the
church, of which my text speaks. Oh.
how manv sichs and tears and panes and
agonies! Tell me, ye women who saw
Him hang! Tell me. ye executioners who
lifted Him and let Him down! leu me,
thou sun that didst hide! vc rocks that
fell! "C'luisL lnvod the cl.:irr!i and pave
Himself for it." If the garden of the
church belongs to Christ, certainly He
has a rieht to walk in it. 1 ome. then
() blessed Jcstis, to-day: walk np and
down these aisles, and pluck what Thou
wilt of sweetness tor lhyselt!
Ihe church, in my text, is appropriately
compared to a garden, because it is a
place of choice flowers, of select fruits
ind of thorough irrigation.
That would be a strange garden in
which there were no flowers. If nowhere
else, they would be along the borders or
at the gateway. The homeliest taste will
dictate something, if it be only the old
fashioned hollyhock or dahlia or daffodil,
but if there be larger means, then you
will find the Mexican cactus and blazing
azalea and clustcrine oleander. Well,
now, Christ comes to His Garden, and He
plants there some of the brightest spirits
that ever flowered upon the world. Some
oi mem are violets, inconspicuous, due
sweet as heaven. You have to search and
find them. You do not see them very of
ten, perhaps, bnt you find where they
have been nv the brightened face of the
invalid and the sprig of geranium on the
Itand and the new window curtains keep
ing out the glow of the sunlight. They
ire, perhaps, more like the ranunculus,
creeping swiftlv along amid the thorns
ind briers of life, giving kiss for sting,
ind many a man who has had in his way
mme great black rock of trouble has
found that they have covered it all over
with flowery jasmine running in and out
amid the crevices.
These flowers in Christ's carden are not
like the sunflower, gaudy in the light, but
wherever darkness hovers over a soul that
needs to be comforted, there they stand,
night blooming cereuses. But in Christ's
garden there are plants that may be bet
ter compared to the Mexican cactus
thorns without, loveliness within; men
with sharp points of character. They
wound almost every one that touches
them. They are hard to handle. Men
pronounce them nothing but thorns, but
Christ loves them notwithstanding all
their sharpnesses. Many a man has had
a very hard ground to cultivate, and it
has only been through severe trial he has
raised even the smallest scrap of grace.
A very harsh minister was talking to a
verv placid elder, and the placid elder
said to the harsh minister: "Doctor, I do
wish you would control your temper."
"Ah," said the minister to the elder. "I
Mntrol more temper in five minutes than
vou do in five years." It is harder for
ome men to do right than for other men
to do right. The grace that would ele
rate you to the seventh heaven might not
keep your brother from knocking a man
down. I had a friend who came to me
jnd said, "I dare not join the church." I
said, "Why?" "Oh,"' he said, "I have
such a violent temper. Yesterday morn
ing I was crossing very early at the Jersey
City ferry, and I saw a milkman pour a
large quantity of water into the milk can,
and I said tn him: 'I think that will do,
and he insulted me and I knocked him
down. Do you think I ought to join the
church ?" Nevertheless that very same
man, who was so harsh in his behavior,
loved Christ, and .could not speak of sa
cred things without tears of emotion and
affection. Thorns without, sweetness
within the best specimen of Mexican
cactus I ever saw.
There are others planted in Christ's
garden who are always radiant, always
impressive more like the roses of deep
hue that we occasionally find, called
"giants of battle;" the Martin Lilt hers,
St. Pauls, Chrysostoms, Wycliffes. Lati
mers and Samuel Ruthcrfords. What in
other men is a spark in them is a confla
gration. When they sweat, they sweat
rreat drops of blood. When they pray,
their prayer takes fire. When they preach
it is a Pentecost. When they fight, it is a
Thermopylae. When they die, it is a
martyrdom. Ion find a great many roses
in the gardens, but only a few "giants of
battle. Men say, "Why don't yon have
more of them in the church?' I say,
"Why don't you have in the world more
Humooldts and Wellingtons?" Cod gives
to some ten talents, to others one.
Again, the church may be appropriately
compared to a garden, because it is a
place of fruits. That would be a strange
garden which bad in it no berries, no
plums or peaches or apricots. The coarser
fruits are planted in the orchard or they
are set out on the sunny hillside, hut the
choicest fruits are kept in the garden. So
in the world outside the church Christ
has planted a great many beautiful things
patience, charity, generosity, integrity,
but He intends the choicest fruits to fx
in the garden, and if they are not there,
I fTnS Vmeh.flowerin, sent
mentality. It is a practical, fite givingj
healthful fruit not posies, btit apples.
"Oh," says somebody, "I don't see what
the garden of the church has yielded."
Where did your asylums come from, and
your hospitals, and your institutions of
mercy? Christ planted every one of
them. Tie planted them in His garden.
When Christ gave sight to Bartimcns, Ha
laid the cornerstone of every blind asy
lum that has ever been built. When
Christ soothed the demoniac of Galilee,
He laid the cornerstone of every lunatic
fisvlum that has ever been established.
When Christ said to the sick man. "Take
up thy bed and walk," He laid the cor
nerstone of every hospital the world has
ever scan. When Christ said. "I was in
prison, and ye visited Me," He laid the
cornerstnns of every prison reform asso
ciation that has ever been organized.
The church of Christ is a glorious garden,
and it is full of fruit. I know there is
some poor fruit in it. I know there are
Rome weeds that ought to be thrown over
the fence. I know there are some crab
apple trees that ought to be cut down. I
know there are soni wild arancs that
Ought to be nprooleoT Biit are yon going
to destroy the whole garden because of a
little gnarled fruit? You will find worm
csten leaves in Fontainebleau and insert
that sting in the fairy groves of the
Champs Elysees. You do not tear down
and destroy the whole garden because
there are a few specimens of gnarled fru't.
I admit there are men and women in
the church who oulit not to be there,
but let ns be frank and admit the fact
that there are hundreds and thousands of
glorious Christian men and women holy,
blessed, useful, consecrated and triumph
ant. There ia no grander collection in all
the earth than the collection of Christians.
There are Christian men in every chureh
whose refigion is not a matter of psalm
singing ana cnurcngoing. lo-mom
morning that religion will keen them juot
as consistent nnd consecrated in their
worldly occupation as it ever kept them
at the communion table. There are wom
en with us to-dny of a bipher type of
character than Mary of Bethany. They
not only sit at the feet ot l.hi ist, nut tney
go out into the kitchen to help Martha
in her work, that she may sit there too
There is a woman who hag a drunken hus
band, who has exhibited more taitn and
patience and courage than Ridley in the
hre tie was consumed in iweniy mm;
utes. Hers has been a twenty years'
martyrdom. Yonder is a man who lias
been fifteen years on his back, unable to
feed himself, yet calm and peaceful as
though he lay on one of the green banks
if heaven, watching the oarsmen dip their
paddles in tbe crystal river!
I have not told you of the better tree
in this garden and of the better fruit It
was planted just outside Jerusalem a
good while ago. When that tree was
planted, it was so split and bruised ami
barked men said nothing would ever grow
upon it, but no sooner had that tree been
nianted than it budded and blossomed
and fruited, nnd the soldiers' spears were
only the clubs that struck down that
. a : . -.1, : . . .1 1 .
iruit,. ana it lull iniu me ii
tions, and the men began to pick it up and
eat it, and they found in it an antidote to
all thirst, to all poison, to all sin, to all
death, the smallest cluster larger than
the famous one of Eshcol, which two men
carried on a staff between them. If the
one apple in Kdcn killed the race, this
one cluster of mercy shall restore.
Again, the church in my text is appro
priately called a garden because it is
thoroughly irrigated. No garden could
prosper long without plenty of water.
It has seemed as if Jesus Christ took
the best. From many of your households
the best one is gone. . You know that she
was too good for tsws world. She was tho
gentlest in her ways, the deepest in her
affection, and when at last the sickness
came you had no faith in medicines. Y"i
knew that the hour of parting had con.i-,
and when, through the rich grace of the
Lord Jesus Christ, you surrendered that
treasure you said: "Lord Jesus take it it
is the best we have, lake it. ihou art
worthy." The others in the household
may have been of grosser mold She was
of the finest.
The heaven of your little ones will not
be fairly begun until you get there. All
the kindnesses shown them by fiiunor
tals will not make them forget you. There
they are, the radiant throngs that went
out from your homes. I throw a kiss to
the sweet darlings. They arc all well now
in the palace. The crippled child has s
sound foot now. A little lame child says,
"Ma. will I be lame in heaven?" "No, my
darling, you won't be lame in heaven.
i little sick child says,
lavs, " Ma, win i ne
sick in heaven?" "So, my dear, you
won't be sick in heaven."" A little blind
child says, "Ma, will I be blind in heav
en?" "So. my dear, you won't be blind
in heaven. They are all well there
I notice that the fine gardens some
times have biph fences around them, and
I cannot get in. It is so with a king's
garden. The only glimpse you ever get of
such a garden is when the king rides out
in his splendid carriage.
It is not so with this garden, this
King's garden. I throw wide open the
gate and tell you nil to come in. No
monopoly in religion. Whosoever will,
may. Choose now between a desert and
a garden. Many of yon have tried the
garden of this world's delight. Yon have
found it has been n cha-ain. So it was
with Theodore Hook. He made all the
world laugh. He makes us laugh now
when we read his poems, but he could
not make his own heart laugh. While in
the midst of bis festivities he confronted
a looking glass, and he saw himself and
said: "There, that is true. I look just
as I am, done up in body, mind and
purse." So it was of Sbenstone, of whose
garden I told you at the beginning of my
sermon. He sat down amid those bowers
and said: "I have lost my road to hap-
fiiness. I am angry and envious and
rantic and despise everything around me
just as it becomes a madman to do."
O ye weary souls, come into . Christ's
garden to-day and pluck a little hearts
ease! Christ is the only rest and the only
pardon for a perturlied spirit. Do you
not think your chance has almost come?
You men anil women who have been wait
ing year after year for some pood oppor
tunity in which to accept Christ, hut
have postponed it five, ten, twenty, thirty
years do you not feel as if now your hour
of salvation had come? O man, what
grudge hast thou against thy poor soul
that thou wilt not let it be saved?
Some years ago a vessel struck on the
rocks. They had only one lifeboat. In
that lifeboat the passengers and crew
were getting ashore. The vessel had
foundered and was sinking decjier and
deeper, and that one boat could not take
the passengers very swiftly A little girl
stood on the deck waiting for her turn
to get into the boat. The boat came and
went, came and went, but her turn did
not seem to come. After awhile she could
wait no longer, and she leaped on the
taffrail and then sprang into the sea, cry
ing to the boatman : "Save me next ! Save
me next!" Oh, how many have gone
ashore into God's mercy, and yet you arc
clinging to the wreck of sin. Others have
accepted the pardon of Christ, but you
are in peril Why not this moment make
a rush for your immortal rescue, crying
until Jesus shall hear you and heaven and
earth ring with the cry: "Save me next I,
Save me next!" Now is the day of salva
tion I Now! Now!
Truth never goes about whispering.
Never speak evil of any one.
Earn money before you epond it.
Little sins always grow up.
Gratitude is one of Mayor Ashbridge's
cardinal virtues, can any one ask for
more than this in a man's make up?
And he has a good memory, too.
If our reason is not stronger than our
passions, we are no better off than the
brutes.
J Anger ventilated often hurries toward
forgiveness; anger concealed often
hardens toward revenge.
A downfall may be an uplift.
Ridicule is more cutting than Insult,
because it may be true, and more dif
ficult to resent.
Skilful pilots gain their, reputation
from storms and tempests.
anging of nowera w a." -
,3 C-jBWa.s-VM'
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