VOL. XXVIII
PROFESSIONAL CARD?.
V. McALPINE,
De: ist.
Is now permanently In- ■•. at i» South Main
Street- Butler. Pa„ 1" ■ formerly ;ceoupl«l
by Dr. tValdrou.
Dr. N. M. HOOVER,
137 E. WaynejJ*.. office hours. 10 to 12 M. and
1 to 3 P. M.
L. M. REINSEL, M. D ,
Physician amd Scboeon.
Kresider.ee at 'M Graham Btreet. Office
Frank's drugstore, Main St.
L. BLACK,
rDTSICIAN AND SLHOKON,
New Trout man Building, Butler, Pa.
E. N. LEaKK. M. D. J- E. MANN. M. D.
Specifies: Specialties:
Oynxoology and Sur- Kje. anJ
DRS. LEAKE & MANN,
Butler, Pa.
G. M. ZIMMERMAN.
PHYSICIAN AMD BCBOBON.
Office at No. to. 8. Main street, over Frank *
Co>B Diu/ Store. Butler, Pa,
SAMUEL M. BIPPUS.
Physician and Surgeom.
do. Jefferson St., Butler, Pa.
W. R. TITZEL.
PHYSICIAN
8. W. Corner Main and North Sta., Butler, Pa.
J. J. DONALDSON, Dentist.
Butler, Penn'a.
r Artificial Teeth Inserted cn the latesTTm-
Droved plan. Gold Killing a specialty. Office
over Srhaul's Clothing Store.
DR. S. A. JOHNSTON.
DENTIST, - - BUTLER, PA.
All work pertaining to the profession execut
-2U2J-P-trucUon
trucUon <jl Teeth. Vitalized Air administered.
OBc* Jtlenra Street, East »fL»wrj
Hoaae, Of Stalra.
Offlce open dally, except Wednesdarsand
Thursdays. Communications by msll receive
prompt attention.
n. a-The oaly Dentist In Butler uslntf.Lhe
best Mkca of teeth.
J. W. MILLER,
Architect, C. E. and Surveyor.
Contractor, Carpenter and Builder.
Maps, plans, specifications and esti
mates; all kinds of architectural and en
gineering work. No charge for drawing it
I contract the work. Consult your best in
terests; plan before you build. Informa
tion cheerfully given. A share of public
patronage is solicited.
P. 0. Box 1007. Office S. W. of Court
House, Butler, Pa.
C. F. L. McQUISTION,
EXGIXEER AND SURVEYOR,
Orrici HKAB DIAMOND, BCTLKR, Pi.
J. M. PAINTER,
Attorney-at-Law.
Office—Between Postofflce and Diamond, But
ler, Pa.
A. T. SCQTT,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW.
Office at No. 8. South Diamond, Butler, Pa.
A. M. CHRISTLEY,
ATIORNEY AT LAW.
Offlce second floor. Anderson B1 k, Malu St.,
near Couit House, Butler, Pa.
J. w. HUTCHISON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office on second noor of the Huselton block,
Diamond, Butler, Fa., Boom No. 1.
JAMES N. MOORE,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW AND NOTAKT PUBLIC.
Office In Boom No. l. second Door of Huselton
Block, entrance on Diamond.
IRA McJUNKIN.
Attorney at Law, Offlce at No. IT, East Jeder
aou St., Butler. Pa.;
W. C. FINDLEY,
Attorney at Law and Real Estate Agent. Of
Oce rear of L. Z. Mitchell's offlce on north side
of Diamond, Butler, Pa.
H. H. GOUCHER.
Attorney-at-law. Offlce on second floor of
Anderson building, near Court House, Butler,
Pa.
J. K. BRITTAIN.
Att'y at l^w—offlce at S. E. Cor. Main St, and
Diamond, Butler, Pa.
- _
NEWTON BLACK.
Att'y at Law—Offlce.on South side of Dlamoud
Butler. Pa.
A. £. GABLE,
V" eterinary Surgeon.
Graduate of the Ontario Veterinary
College, Toronto, Canada.
Dr. Gable treats all diseases of tbe
domesticated animals, and m?kes
riddling, castration and horse den
tistry a specialty. Castration per
formed without clams, and all otber
surgical operations performed in tbe
most scientific manner.
Calls to any part of the country
promptly responded to.
Office and infirmary in Crawford's
Livery, 132 West Jefferson Street,
Butler, Pa.
13 JCLEK COUNTS
Mutual Fire Insurance Co.
Office Cor. Main & Cunningham St*.
<3. C. KOESSING, Pbbsidknt.
H. O. HUIIs'EM AN, SSkurktabt.
DIRECTORS:
O. C. lim-wing, Henderson Oliver,
J. 1. Purvis, .fumes Stephenson,
A. Trout man, H. C. Helneinan,
Alfred Wick. ». Weltml.
Dr. W. frvln. i*. Ktrkenbach,
J. W. lliirkhart. 1). T. f. orris.
LOYAL S. M'JUfiRIK, Agent.
-BTTTJLTEIR, TP A.
L. 8. McJUNKIN,
Insurance aid Real Erlate Art
17 EAST JEFFEESON.ST.
BUTLER, - PA.
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
MAIN STREET.
■- -j |— r~- -
E Grocery « , Troutman Building
cj
N—(— s ___ _ jg L_ _
w ll I - "
a
I >
J* i
WASHINGTON STREET.
" —is r - "
MARTINCOURT E3B
kCO J L
Here we sire down on Cunningham St. Almost every
body knows where we are, but if do not, please loo* at the
above map. Walk down Cunningham St. on the light hand
side till vou come to 216 and you will find us. Here we have
lots of room and pay no rent and more than doubled our sales
last year and expect to increase them as much this \ear. All
who came last year to see if we had as large a stock and k sol<l
as cheap as we advertised said we were too modest in our
declarations and said they did not expect to find half as much,
even after reading our advertisements. You know us now and
of course will continue to deal here, but we must tell you we
have twice as large a stock now as when you were here before
and still cutting prices lower. To those who have never been
here, we want you to come too. We don t advertise to blow.
If jcu don't find more stock here at lower prices than you
ever expected otter reading our advertisement we will pay you
for your time that it takes to walk down here from Main St.
Bemember, we keep every thing in our line. Horse col
lars 50c, team work bridles sl, work harness $lB, buggy har
ness $6, wagon single trees, ironed, 25c, double-trees, shafts,
wheels, poles, shafts, cushions, tops, harness oil, curry combs,
brushes, paint, springs, dashes, lap dusters, robes, blankets,
whips, carte, buggies, spring wagons and everything, and
Kramer wagons,— the best wagons made.
Come and see us. Look over our stock. We want to get
acquainted with you. Remember, it was us who first brought
down the prices of buggies in Butler county for your benefit,
relying on increased sales to make up for small profits, and the
public has stood by us in a way that makes us like everybody.
Yours, etc.,
S. lIIUTINMR7 & CO.
S. B. Martincourt, - J. M. Lieglmer.
AL. RUFF,
DEALER Ilf
BOOTS AND SHOES.
114 South Main Street.
Butler, Pa., April, 1891.
To TnR PEOPLE OK BUTLER COUNTY:
PATRONS ANI> FRIENDS:—
Another season'is upon us and you will be wanting new shoes suitable
to the season. If you will spare us a few moments of your time, it is in
regard to Shoes we wish to tall- to you, bettering it will be to uur mutual ad
vantage. We hare this Spring a larger and better stock of Hoots and Shoes
than ever before. We believe we can supply you with anything in our line
that you may need or want, and as the prices of Shoes are largely governed
by the expense under which they are sold, let me call your attention to the
fact that our expenses are lower than those of any Boot and Shoe firm in
Butler. Consequently we can and do give our patrons the best value for
their money. We deal only with the best manufacturers, those who origin
ate the styles and male shoes to wear. Owing to our long experience, good
standing and cash buying, we are enabled to get our goods at the lowest
cash prices, another fact to your advantage. Our shoes arc also comfort
able and stylish, qualities that are often as much desired as service. Wc
will not enumerate any of our prices here, as the few we would have room
for might be considered leaders, and we have no leaders. Our shoes are all
equally cheap. But we would consider it a favor if you will call and ex
amine our goods and allow us to quote prices. Oood treatment will be
yours. II c consider it no trouble to show goods. Thanking you for past
furors, and again asking for a share of your valued patronage, and in con
sequence of such, bespeaking entire satisfaction and a continuance of the
same, we remain, Very Truly Yours,
AL. RUFF.
E¥ERr WATERPROOF COLLAR OR CUFF
I THAT CAN BE RELIED ON
BE up Not to Stout!
To
THE MARK Not tO DlSCOlOr?
——————l BEARS THIS MARK.
# TRADE
ELluloiD
NEEDS NO LAUNDERING. CAN BE WIPED CLEAN IN A MOMENT.
THE ONLY LINEN-LINED WATERPROOF
COLLAR IN THE MARKET.
ijfeLL BRE£|*Jl
WSOON web?
iiMSSS QUICKLY MARRIED
8 APOLIO is one of the best known city luxuries and each time a cake
is used an hour is saved. On floors, tables and painted work it acts lik*
a charm. For scouring pots, pans and motals it has no equal. If your
■tore-keeper does not keep it you should insist upon his doing so, as it
always gives satisfaction and its immense sale all over the United States
makes it an almost necessary article to any well supplied store. Every
thing shines after its use, and even the children delight in using it in
their attempts to help around the house.
THE DEATHLESS HEART.
fbe flames ran riot o'er roof and wall
And wrapped the house In a lurid pall.
rhrcush the glare and smoke, through the dla
and heat,
ill eyes upturned in the crowded street
JVere fllled with pity and yearning fear
Por the children thought to bo dying there 1
fust at that moment of speechless dread
it an upper window the curly head
>f a girl of twelve in the red light shone,
Her arms In the tenderest fashion thrown
Sound her weeping brother of five years old.
And her dark locks blent with his locks of gold!
The people urged her to leap in vain
While the sparks came down like a fiery rain.
And the b>iy was dropped 'mid the widening
glow
To the haven of outstretched arms below:
rhe. girl rushed back through the eddying
smoke
And never a word to the watchers spoke,
But swiftly to the n indow came.
A babe iu her arms, and her dress aflame!
She wrapped the baby in blankets tight
And leaped at once with her burden light
To the eager hands that were opened wide
Fronting the crest of the crimson tide!
The Infant, happy and safe at last.
Was nulte unharmed by the peril past.
But the sister who saved her, though breathing
still,
Was beyond the reach of all mortal skill!
The lire had fed on her cheeks so fair.
Nor left the ghost of a dimple there.
No trace remained of her eyes so bright—
Those marvelous wells of truth and light—
And her hnlr, where the sunbeams loved to
stray.
Like sudden darkness had passed away!
The doctor told her, in gentlest tone,
She must go through the Valley of Death alone.
For his healing art and his wish were vain
To bring her back to the world again
"Ob' thank you, doctor, but don't mind me,
I know you, sir, though I cannot see.
"Pre saved our Robbie and baby, too—
Twae almost more than I hoped to do—
•'But now Tm tired and feel some pain.
And I hear a voice like tho far-off rain,
"Or Is It—because I know He's near—
Oh! tell me, sir, is It Christ I hear?
"Our Saviour will take me to His kind breast
'Where the weary cease'—you know the rest."
With the words unfinished, but smiling said.
The girl sank back on the pillow—dead!
When her body was wrapped lin Its winding
sheet
Twiu found that the terrible smoke and heat
Bad raged and reveled In every part.
But had left unscathed the stainless heart.
The watchers whispered below their breath:
"What a wonderful token of life in death!"
And a poet, standing In silence near.
Spoke out in a tremulous voice, yet clear:
"The flame In reverence dared not touch
The loyal heart that had done so much.
"For more than all triumphs of earthly art
Is one grand deed of a deathless heart."
—William H. Hayne, in Youth'* Companion.
AN EXCITING BOAT RIDE.
Thrilling Experience on Shadow
Lake with a Raving Maniac.
"Good morning, sir—a lovely day."
I started rather guiltily from the stoop
ing position in which the voice of my
unknown colloquist had accosted me.
Iu truth and iu fact I was engaged in
examining the padlock moorings of a
graceful little boat, whose keel lay on
the shore, and meditating to myself
how very agreeable a row across the
crystal lake would be through the
silence of the purple August daybreak.
"Good morning!" I responded, turn
ing to meet the inquiring gaze of a tall,
gentlemanly-looking personago, ap
parently about thirty-five years of age,
who stood leaning against a little gate.
He was dark and handsome, with pierc
ing eyes, forehead slightly bald, and a
jet-black mustache, twisted jauntily
away from a small, nervous mouth; and
his dress was tasteful and faultless in
the last degree. He had taken off his
light straw hat to greet me, and now
stood apparently awaiting some more
definite explanation on my part.
"I beg your pardon, sir," I stam
mered, rather confused; "I—l hope I
am not trespassing on private grounds?"
"Why, sir, you are undeniably on
private grounds," returned the
stranger, smiling, "but I think we
won't call it by any such harsh name
as trespassing. You are staying in the
neighborhood?"
"I am staying at the Lake house for
the summer," I explained; "and I sup
pose my morning walk has led me fur
ther than 1 at first intended?"
"You are about six miles from the
house, sir," returned my companion,
courteously. "And judging from your
occupation when I came down to the
gate, you would not object to crossing
back by water?"
I laughed and acknowledged the fact.
"To tell the truth, sir, I was just
thinking how cool and pleasant a
short row would be. In fact, if the
boat had not been fastened I should
most assuredly have braved all conse
quences and boldly adventured the ex
periment."
"I think we can overcome that objec
tion," said the stranger, quietly turning
to an old ruined tree, whose gnarled
trunk overhung the transparent tide,
and drawing a key from its hollow
depths. "Suppose we get up an appe
tite for breakfast together? I am not
an inexperienced oarsman myself, and
I suppose you understand the art of
propelling on the water?"
"Just give me aa opportunity, and
see if I don't indicate my education in
aquatic matters," 1 said, in high good
humor, springing into the fairy-like lit
tle shell, followed by my new ac
quaintance. "Really, sir, this Is an un
expected treat I scarcely know how
to thank you sufficiently for your
oourtesy."
"Then do not attempt it," said the
gentleman, inclining hia head with a
dignified, high-bred politeness which
Impressed me more and more in his
favor. "I assure yoa the gratification
Is entirely mutual. Pull to the right a
little; we shall get entangled in yonder
floating sheet of water lilies, if we are
not careful. Upon my word this is
a most perfect morning for the water.''
It was, indeed. Across the diamond
glitter of the lake the golden splendor#
of an August sunrise were just begin
ning to be reflected, and in the dis
tance a range of dim, misty mountain
peaks leaned against the horizon like
far-off sentinels, almost losing their
outline In the blue radiance of the
cloudless heavens.
"I wish I were an artist!" broke al
most involuntarily from my lips.
My companion smiled.
"Need a man be an artist to enjoy
the beauties of such a scene as this?"
he asked. "A little more toward yonder
point, if you please, sir. Now we are
out in the channel, and you can pull as
hanl or as easy as you choose. The
boat will almost move of herself, in
fact."
He threw down his oars and leaned
back in the stern, adjusting his straw
hat so as to shield his eyes from the too
vivid glare of the morning sunshine.
"One scarcely thinks of civilization in
such a secluded spot as this," he mur
mured, lazily. "I suppose there isn't a
living soul within a mile of JUS, always
excepting birds and fishes."
"I suppose not," I assented.
"But, nevertheless, the forms and
ceremonies of society cannot entirely
be cast aside. May I know whom I
have had the pleasure of helping to an
hour's pleasure?"
I drew my card from my waistcoat
pocket, and handed it across, with a
smile.
"Vernon Cheveley, eh? A very pret
tv name. sir. I Cflflgr(rtulal« myself oo
BUTLER, PA., FRIDAY, MAY l.*>. IHJH.
making your acquaintance. \\ ill you
allow me to reciprocate your frank
ness?"
He bowed low as he presented me
with a crumpled bit of brown paper
that he extracted from .an old cigar case,
t'pon it was inscribed, in staring letters
of red ink, the one word: "Albert."
"Albert—who?" I involuntarily ques
tioned.
"Albert, sir!" returned my com
panion, starting to a sitting posture,
and regarding me with stern dignity.
"Prince Albert, sir! Albert of England,
Scotland and Wales!"
I stared at him, ugha-st. \\ as the
man mad, or dreaming?
"To your knees, sir!" he said, with a
sharp, sudden imperiousness. "Have
you no reverence for royalty?"
I obeyed his quick sign almost be-fore
I knew what I was doing. He smiled
complacently, at the same time draw
ing a gaudy tinsel star from his pocket,
and gravely affixing it to the left breast
of his coat.
"Yes, my friend," he went on, im
pressively, "you are BOW in the pres
ence of the " Prinoe Consort of (Jreat
Britain! Men have amused themselves
by disseminating the idle tale that I
was dead: that's all they know about
It. lam not dead; and. what is more, I
never shall die. lam privileged with
the gift of everlasting existence. As
long as I wear this jeweled star death
can never come near me!"
I felt the cold perspiration oozing
from every pore in my body; I could
almost feel myself grow pale as I be
came fully convinced that I was out
upon the solitary lake alone with a
madman! I had heard, when first I
came to this mountain retreat, that
there was a large asylum somewhere
in the vicinity, but I bad never given
the affair a second thought. Now I
was reaping the constquences of my
own folly and recklessness.
His dark, piercing eyes roved rest
lessly from object to object. Suddenly
they rested on my appalled counten
ance.
"You don't believe what I am say
ing?"
The remembrance of what I had
often read and heard about the ex
pediency —nay, the positive necessity—
that existed for indulging monomaniacs
to the top of their bent, in whatever
whim might possess their minds, oc
curred to me, and I hastened to reply:
"Of course I believe it! Why shouldn't
I?"
"Ah, why shouldn't you, indeed?
But people are so skeptical nowadays.
Now, when Victor Emmanuel was
staying at my house and Pope Pius
came down by way of the Mediterra
nean —take care! where are you go
ing?"
I had thought to take advantage of
the new path into which his troubled
mind had wandered to divert our
course a little more shoreward; but his
cunning, roving eyfr was upon me in an
instant.
"It —it is getting very hot here," I
stammered "I thought, perhaps, we
should find it cooler on shore."
"Ah-h-h!" he hissed, putting his face
so close to mine as to glare up into my
eyes, under the very shadow of my
wide-brimmed hat; "you're a traitor and
a hypocrite, like all the rest of 'em!
But I'm prepared for you. See?"
And with a burst of laughter, so dis
sonant that the very tide seemed to
tremble and quiver, he flashed a long,
sharp knife in the air, describing a
circle of gleaming light round his
head. My blood seemed turned to ice
in my veins as it dazzled across my
vision.
"Put up the knife, your royal high
ness," I said, counterfeiting an off-hand
ease that Iby no means felt. "Where's
the use of it between friends? Let's
talk about the queen."
I was the more anxious to secure his
attention as I saw moving figures on
the shore, scarcely half a mile away
from us, the flutter of a white handker
chief, and then a total disappearance of
the figures. Help was at hand I was
quite sure, if I could only maneuver so
as to reach it.
"No, not about the queen," said the
poor maniac; "that grieves and afflicts
me." He closed his knife aa he spoke.
"But, do you know," he continued, "I
am haunted?"
"Haunted?" I said.
"Yes—haunted by a horrible, ugly
old woman —a witch, or negress, a fe
male fiend. Now do you know," he
said, moving close up to me, and speak
ing in a low, mysterious voice, "she
won't let mo alone?"
"No?"
"She won't. Sometimes she climbs
np among the stars at night, and sits
there winking through my bedroom
window all nightlong. Sometimes she
comes jumping down from the clouds
among the raindrops, and sometimes—
there she is now, with three pair of
fins and a face like a fish's!"
He uttered an eldritch screech, as he
looked down into the clear, shining
deeps.
"Let's escape from her," I exclaimed,
vigorously seizing my oars. "She can't
follow us on dry land, that's certain.
Pull away."
"No, she can't. We might hide among
the wood, only, if she should turn into
a squirrel and jump up and down
among the trees —she does sometimes."
"Well, then, we'll borrow a gun and
dispose of her," I said, still pulling des
perately toward the shore, while the
perspiration, cold and clammy a3 mid
night dews, streamed down my temples.
"What are you in such a deuce of a
hurry for?" demanded my companion,
rather morosely. "Hold on a little,
can't you?"
I checked my exertion. Evidently he
was in no humor to be trifled with.
"No hurry at all," I said, as calmly
as possible; "only, you see, the old
witch is following you up pretty closely,
and —"
"We are too near the shore," he in
terrupted, abruptly.
We were within a few rods of the
clustering bushes that I knew con
tained help. Oh, heaven, could I but
reach their friendly shelter. How like
a mass of lead my heart • sank in my
bosom as I saw him catch up the oars
and strike out once more in the con
trary direction.
But as he turned his head away I
caught up the sheathed knife and flung
it hurling upon the shore.
"What's that?" he demanded, turn
ing quickly round.
"It's your witch," I said, as uncon
cernedly as I could. "Don't you think
we ought to go ashore and see what has
become of her?"
His eyes roved restlessly along the
green bank.
"I don't know; what do you think?"
"Why, she is your enemy. No doubt
it was she who spread the report of
your death. You ought to address her
in a conciliatory manner; and if you
could once bring her to terms, what
would prevent you from assuming your
proper station once more in England."
"That's very true. Here, head her in
toward the land. I wonder I never
thought of that before."
Poor fever-brained lunatic! Even in
the consciousness of my own mortal
peril my heart ached for the crazy
flights of his sick fancy.
We were close to the friendly land;
the long, silver-green tresses of the wil
lows almost touched my throbbing
forehead, when my strange companion
started to his feet, with a yell that
aroused all the echoes floating over the
peaceful lake:
"Traitor —spy I double-dyed villain!
you have been deceiving me. Your
hirelings lurk among yonder bushes.
But it is in vain!—the royalty of Eng
land shall never fall a prey to base arti
fices like these
He sprang toward me like an infuri
ated tiger. At the same time the shore
seemed to become alive with hurrying
figures, and with a last impulse I
caught up the rope that lay coiled in
the bottom of the boat with one end af
fixed to an iron hook, and threw it des
perately shoreward. I could see a tall
form plunging waist deep into the
water to grasp at it; and then the cling
ing arms of my terrible companion
were wreathed around me, and I knew
no more.
"Are you better, sir?"*
"Better? Yes—no—l can't tell.
Where am I?"
"Here, at a little inn, snug in bed;
bnt you've had a stormy time of it.
What on earth possessed you to go in a
boat with that poor gentleman?"
"Mad, isn't he?" I asked, with all the
frightful occurrences crowding back
upon my mind, as one may remember
the hideous fantasies of a troubled
dream.
"Mad as a March hare, sir; thinks
he's Prince Albert. They say he's the
worst case in the asylum, sir—escaped
last night, and has been wandering
about the shores all the morning."
"Is he safe at last?"
"Yes, sir; they had the deuce of a
time getting hold of him. though. He
threw you overboard as if you had been
a willow twig and then swam like a fish
himself. Dick Dayton—that's his keep
er, sir—says he's got the strength of
twentv Samsons in those long arms of
his."
So ended that long.frightful morning
among the peaceful solitudes of
Shadow lake; but I carry an everlasting
memorial of it in the shape of a single
lock of hair that gleams, white as sil
ver, among the chestnut luxuriance
that curls over my temples. While I
live, and while that lock retains its
ghastly whiteness, I shall never remem
ber my peril and deliverance without a
shudder. —X. Y. World.
.Modified View*.
Mr. Nocaste (hotly)—lt's a shame,
an outrage, a menace to American in
stitutions, for one man to have a mil
lion dollars. Think of the harm he can
do with it. Think of the power he
wields.
Mr. Fortymillion —That's so. I guess
I'll have to change my will. Having no
relatives, I had concluded to divide my
wealth among my friends and acquan
tances, and as I left you a million —
Mr. Nocaste —Cm—er—a good deal
depends on the man, you know. —N. Y.
Weekly.
Tim Way of the I'aragrapher.
She—Why so silent and preoccupied,
Mr. Gaggs?
He —The theme that agitates my
brain, Misa Thurston, refuses to crys
talize. If I can make the correct turn
In a play upon your name, there is
■eventy-five cents in it for me. How
would something about hungering and
Thurston for your society do?— West
Shore.*
At Her Feet.
Maiden Lady—l think I will visit a
chiropodist while I am Ita the city.
Friend —Have you corns?
"No."
"Bunions?"
"No."
"Why, then, visit a chiropodist?"
"1 want to have it to say that 1 had a
man at my feet once in my life."—Light.
Advantages of the Pant.
First Student (at classical school) —I
say, George, what a wonderful race
those old Greeks were. Think of their
triumphs in art, are hi* acture, philoso
phy, literature —
Second—Huh! Nothing remarkable
about that. They didn't have to spend
the best years of their lives learning
Greek. —Good News.
Ihe Shad Season.
Waiter —I expect you to pay in ad
vance.
Guest —What do you mean, sir!
Waiter —No offense, sir, whatever;
but the last gentleman who ate shad
here got a bone in his throat and died
without paving, and the boss took it
out of my wages. —Texas Siftings.
An t'nkind Remark.
Mrs. Peter by—Jones' wife ran away
last night.
Mr. Peterby—Did she, really?
Mrs. Peterby—Suppose I ran away
from you, what would your friends say?
Mr. Peterby—Humph! I guess they
would ask me to set up the wine.—
Texas Siftings.
A Knowing Youag Woman.
He (ardently)—l love you.
She (complacently)—l know it.
He —I cannot live without you.
She—l know it.
He —I want you to be my wife.
She —I know it.
He—Well?
She —I "no" it.—Life.
He Cotohed Him.
Col. Bluff —Yon might as well ac
knowledge that you stole the chickens,
uncle. I found a piece of the brown
coat you wore that night in the hen
shed.
Uncle Ebon (triumphantly) —Now, I
coteh you, colonel. I didn't w'ar a
brown coat dat night.—Puck.
BREAKING A DOG.
.r
Smith —Well, Huns, why in the world
have you got that bulloon tied to your
dog's tail?
Hans —He vos got a bad habit ofe
keebin' he's tail mit he's Jrgs between.
Tint I preak him ofe dat bad habit, ain'd
it?— Puck.
One View of It.
"Is the tattooed man a great man,
papa?" asked Willie.
"Not necessarily," replied his father.
"Why?"
"I supposed he must be to have sa
man 3' decorations conferred on him." —
Munsey's Weekly.
It Wouldn't Hurt It.
Great Man (angrily)—So you want my
autograph, eh? I'm getting pretty
tired of this thing, and have got to put
a check to it.
Borem —Oh, well, sir, I'd just as lief
have your name on a check. —West
Shore.
Getting Back on Him.
Mr. Golden Rool—lf King Umberto
provokes this country too far, Uncle
Sam can take a terrible revenge.
"In what way?"
Mr. Golden Rool —By sending all hia
subjects back to Italy.—Puck.
llow He Proposed.
Mr. Slowboy—Miss Passe, what do
you think Is the best name for a girl?
Miss Passe (looking deep into his eyes)
—That of the only man she ever loved.
—-Light.
Gloves and Gloves.
Spartacus—Do you ever put on the
gloves?
Adolphus—Oh, yes. Every time a girl
will let me.—Munsey's Weekly.
Glad of It.
Englishman (with pride)—S!r, I am
an Englishman.
American (with feeling) Thanlf
jfomiqi-rflypfcf'f Bmm.. - _ .
A READ OF DEATH.
rho Third in tho Thrill'-nj Soriea
of "Possibla Cases."
A l'hjftlHsii , « Ileinarkable Story 1I«>« an
Iron King Came Near Losing Ills Ilea
■ I:i— The Mystery of a K.»re
Itullan Mirror.
fOOPVTUGIIT. 1.-4*1.1
This is a story that Dr. Clarke I'or*
stor told i;ifterdinner: I had had :i busy
morning some twenty patients, one
ou the heels ->f another —anil now that
the last had departed, anil noon was
long past, I began to think hungrily <>f
my luncheon. Itut just as I got up to
leave my consulting room my servant
entered and handed me a visiting card
upon v.hich was en.-ravi-d the name
"Mr. Alexander Carathwaite." "There
can l-e but one Alexander Carathwaite,"
thought I, "and he is Alexander Carath
waite, the famous iron king and million
aire."
"Show him in," I said to my servant.
The p.. ison who presently him
st lf opposite me struck me as a singu
larly healthy-looking invalid; tall, ro
bust. with a clear, ruddy skin and a
bright gray eye. However, "What is
the trouble?" 1 asked.
"Well," he answered, "it's a queer
case; but to put it briefly, I'm afraid
the trouble's here," anil he tapped his
forehead.
"Let me hear your symptoms."
"It's a long story," said he, "and I
must begin it at the beginning."
Therewith he plunged his hand into
an interior pocket of his coat and
brought forth a small tissue-paper par
cel. "This," he explained, as he un
wound the paper, "is rather a valuable
antique. It came as a present to my
wife the other day from the earl of
Salchester, whom we entertained when
he was in America a year oi> so ago. As
"THIS, MY DEAK, IS
you see, it's a mirror. The glass is be
lieved to be a specimen of mediaeval
Venetian work, and the frame is un
questionably a magnificent bit of
cinquecento."
The whole affair was no bigger than a
lady's hand. The glass unusually thick,
and fluted round the edge, was veined
and spotted and bleared over with a
fine mist, like the eye of an
aged man. The frame was indeed mag
nificent. Oval in shape, and apparent
ly of pure gold,—so soft, at any rate,
that you could have indented it with
your finger-nail—it was sculptured with
no fewer than five exquisite nude fe
male figures, disporting themselves in
fantastic but graceful attitudes amid a
profusion of delicately chiselled fruits
and leaves. Three of these figures re
clined upon tiny golden couches, in each
of which was set a lustrous ruby; the
other two rode upon conventionalised
lions, and each lion held a pearl be
tween his teeth. At the base a pair of
dolphins twisted their tails together,
and formed the handle. Upon a scroll
at the handle end were incised the date,
1561, and the Initials, E. D.
"It is a beautiful piece of work," said
I, laying it aside, "and I envy you the
possession of it. But what has it
got to do with your visit here?"
"Everything," he returned. "It's
this way." lie paused for a moment;
then he went on: "Last night, after din
ner, I picked that little mirror up, and I
aaid jokingly to my wife: 'This, my dear
is a magical glass. If I hold it over my
waistcoat, thus, and you look in, you
will see straight through into my heart,
and behold the face of the woman I
love." So Mrs. Carathwaitc laughed
and looked, and of course she saw her
own face. Then to carry on the farce,
I said: 'Now let me see whether it will
show me the fac» of the man you love.'
And, always laughing, I held it over ber
breast, and looked in."
"Yes?" I prompted, as he paused
again.
"Well, doctor, instead of my own
face, what I saw reflected in that glass
was a grinning death's head—a skull. I
saw it just as plainly as I see you now.
I looked at it steadily without moving,
for, I should think, three minutes. It
never varied. A human skull in abso
lute detail—eyes, nose, teeth, even the
very seams between the bones perfect
ly "distinct. I'm not a superstitious
man, b*it I confess the sight gave me
the gooseflesh. If I were superstitious,
I don't know what I might think. I'm
not a drinking man, cither, or else I
should believe it was a touch of de
lirium tremens. As it is, I'm at an utter
'.oss to accouut for it in any way except
on the theory that it's the beginning ol
some mental disease." He sjx>ke ner-
Tously and looked at me anxiously
when he had done. He was plainly in
a "white funk."
"Humph! You say you saw it stead
ily for two or three minutes?" I in
quired.
"Yes."
"Then did it disappear?"
"It did not disappear till I moved.
As soon as I moved the death's head
disappeared and I saw the reflection of
my own face."
"Have you ever had any similar ex
perience before? Ever fancied you saw
an object just before you that had in
reality no existence?"
"Never in my life."
"Is your digestive apv»xutus in good
shape?"
"In such perfect shape that I'm never
aonsclous of possessing such a thing."
"And your general health?"
"Superb."
"Let me feel your pulse." His pulse
was firm, regular and proper in time.
"Show me your tongue." His tongue
was pink and clean. "Open your eyes
wide and look towards the light." His
eyes were steady in their gaze, the pu
pils contracted readily and the lid
dropped spontaneously upon my ap
proaching my finger.
"Did you tell your wife what you had
seen?" I asked.
"No; I didn't want to alarm her. She
noticed that I stared at the thing In
rather a startled manner; but I laughed
it off."
I was silent for awhile, toying with
the mirror and wondering what the
case might mean.
"Well, what do you make it out to
be?" he inquired.
"Oh!" I replied, "I can't say as yet.
I haven't sufficient data. The trouble
may be in your optic nerve; it may be
in your liver, and it may be elsewhere
still. I should have to put you through
a lengthy examination. And just at
this moment I am too tired and too
hungry to begin one. If you will give
me time to eat some luncheon I'll be in
better trim."
"Oh! certainly, certainly. Only can't
you tell me at once whether you think
I am going to lose my reason?"
"I hardly think you are going to lose
your reason," I replied. "And now if
you will excuse me for a little. I'll go
downstairs and take a bite. IV maps
you would like a chop and a glass of
wine yourself?"
"Oh! no, thank you; no. thank you.
1 shan't IK- able to eat with any appe
tite until this fear is «»fT my mind."
While 1 swallowed my hasty luncheon
1 thought the matter over. It puzzled
me a good deal, but suddenly, as I was
folding up my napkin, an idea struck
me which, I hoped, might clear the
whole matter up.
Rejoining Mr. I aratliwaite in my of
fice, I said to him: "I have come to the
conclusion that this is a ease for a
specialist. If you like, I will go to a
specialist with you."
"I am quite at your orders," he re
sponded. "Do you think it's the brain
or the eye?"
"I hope it's neither; but the specialist
will tell us."
We entered my carriage, and were
driven down town to a famous curiosity
shop in Seventeenth stre#t, just west of
Union square, the proprietor of which,
Mr. Maverick, is esteemed, us every
body knows, one of the most learned
authorities in antique curios in America.
"Here we are," said I, getting out of
the carriage. "Will you come?''
"But what are you going in here for?'
questioned Carathwaite.
"To consult our specialist," said I.
My patient looked mystified, but he
followed me into the shop.
I presented my card, and asked to see
Mr. Maverick. In another minute we
were closeted with him in his private
office.
"Will you hand Mr. Maverick your
mirror'.'" I demanded of Carathwaite.
Maverick took the mirror, and looked
it over. lie studied the frame through
a magnifying glass. "This is a bit o!
work from the hand of Ktienne Del
anlne," he announced presently, "one
of the most skillful goldsmiths of the
sixteenth century. I don't know where
you got hold of it, but I may tell you
that it is infinitely valuable. 1 have
never seen a liner specimen of Delaulne's
handicraft, nor one in a better state ol
preservation."
"And the glass?" 1 queried. "We
are especially interested in the glass."
"The glass," said Maverick, "is prob
ably Venetian. "I must examine it a
little."
He went to the window, and began to
scrutinize the glass, twisting it about,
and peering at it from various angles.
"Ah, yes, I thought sol" he exclaimed
all at once. "Come here, gentlemen,"
he called to us.
He held the glass off at a certain
oblique angle, and inquired: "Now,
"I SAW RKFI.ECTKD A GRINNING DKATII'S
UK AD, A SKILL."
when I hold it like that, what do you
see ?"
Carathwaite simply uttered a long
low "Ali-h-hl"
"Why, I see a human skull," 1 said
"A most perfect image of a human
skull. I would swear it was the genu
ine reflection of a real one. now it gets
there 1 can't for my life imagine."
"Ah, that was the art of the Venetian
glass- workers," said Maverick.
He crossed the room and took down
from a bookcase a volume entitled
"Manual Arts of Medieval Italy." He
ran over a few pages, found his place,
and read aloud; "Venetian looking
glasses of the sixteenth century were
often ornamented with grotesque de
signs— serpents, skeletons, skulls, some
times crucifixes —produced in the coat
ing of quicksilver in such a way as to be
risible only at one angle of vision, and
then to give the effect of a reflection of
some exterior object."
"Well, doctor," said Carathwaite,
smiling rather sheepishly, when we had
regained the street, "you have ef
fected r. speedy cure What's your fee?"
"I can hardly ask yon a fee, since
your trouble was all in the mirror,' I
eaid. "I will take it out in telling the
story"
The gratitude of millionaires is very
like that of kings. I have never seen
nor heard from Mr. Alexander C aritth
waite a grain. When he needs medical
attendance or advice he calls upon that
notorious humbug- Blank.
SIDNEY LCSKA (HARRY HARI.A.ND)
LOST COURAGE.
& -• ' ffftf
"BesL, you h«-ve topt me in suspense
long enough. For at least six months I
have adored you. I can never stand by
and see you in another's embrace
necer.' I"
"Now, Jack, you know we are too
young to talk of anything but nonsense,
and besides —
m "
\v- • * -* ,( »£s>2s
"Jack! don't! ! —a£t! I ! silly! 11 I
J-a-c-k!" —Judge.
N O.
INFERIOR SEEDS.
f Tfti»y Vrr s uwu • Ciood Crop Xeod Not
■!• Expected.
ScctU that are good may fail to grow,
k> that good see«ls aa J those that pro-
Inee good plants arc not coextensive
ierms. Many good seeds fail to.p»o
iuce }.'•■">,t plants because there are
aianv causes for failure in the produc
lion of a plant outside of the seed. For
this riii—>n the tests known as fjermi
aation trials made in test boxes are
lot in .re than su r rgestive guides as to
lh.' vitality of the seeds inspected.
One of the reasons for a failure of
seeds to gTow is tliat they were gath
ered before they were fully matured.
If one looks at a handful of any seed,
whether clover, bean or squash, he will
find that so :e seeds arc either small,
or light, r both, indicating that they
did uot ina;iuv. It is tiatural that a
percentage of seeds should be imma
ture. as tiio : • 1 vessels do not have all
their seeds ol the same age, and at a
time wlu-n the greater part are ripe
some will still be green. Many seeds
are abortive, or for some reason have
failed t.> develop. They are not green,
but consist mostly of the dry husk or
shell. Such imperfect seeds are the
most easily removed of all by means of
the fanning mill, and there is but little
excuse for such being in any abundance
iu the market seed.
A thir\l reason for poor seed is age.
Some kinds bear the passage of years
before they beg-in to deteriorate much
better than others. The "second
summer" with some sorts is quite gen
erally fatal, while with other kinds the
( second year must come before they
will begin to unfold into seedlings. As
a rule old seeds are not popular, and
there is good foundation for the gen
eral belief that the younger the seed is
j the better, after it has passed its first
, winter.
! There are many other reasons why
seeds are p jor. Among the leading is
poor parentage, and poor parentage
may mean many thing:"- A parent
plant may be poor from coming from a
poor seed or it may be due to too great
moisture, or heat, or lack of food sup
ply. Any on<j or more of the many
untoward circumstances may give rise
to imperfectly en lowed seed, providod
any seed is produced Another series
of poor seeds includes those that iA
themselves are good, that, is, come from
strong parents, grow under favorable
circumstan" 1 . but are |x>or because
they are lacking in those qualities that
go to make up a profitable plant. It Is
a poor seed tliut will under the most
favorable conditions only produee an
inferior plant, whether in blossom,
foliage, seed or fruit. The seed is poor
in possibilities.—American Agricultur
ist.
BUCKWHEAT AND BEES.
The .Upam-ie Has U.en Found Superior
to All Other Varieties
Ever since I have been engaged in
bee-keeping I have been hearing of the
good reputation of buckwheat as &
honey plant. The good qualities of the
common afid silver-hulled have been
discussed, and now we have a new can
didate for public favor in the Japanese
buckwheat. This is the fourth season
that it has been before the public. It
has been weighed in the balance and
found superior to all other known vari
eties. The grain is large in siw.P"dgirc3
a very much larger yield of grain. The
JAPANESE BUCKWHEAT.
quality of the flour is equal to that of
the well-known varieties, and ahead of
them in quantity. 1 regard the sowing
of buckwheat as a sate investment,
although in many localities it only
yields honey occasionally. Years ago
I v.as accustomed to drive by a farm
where there was a lovv place near the
road, where yearly g*ew the rankest of
weeds. The farm changed tenant%
and the new one put this piece of
ground into and it changed
the; appearance of the wjiole farm. The
following year I this piece of
ground remarkably r1««r of weeds.
Low pi;.cos in corn fields are occasion
ally drowned out by heavy Ktvs in
June, and produce both a®fl
calies for their owner. Jnpffnesft VncW
wheat is advertised by seedsmen ft* on®
dollar per bushel. Prairie Farmer.
NOTES ON CORN GROWING.
Do NOT put strawy stable or barn
yard manure on light soils for corn.
The manure will increase droughty
conditions to such an extent that it will
do more harm than good unless the
season is unusually wet.
IF your team crowds together in the
cultivator, trampling the corn, tie the
outside ring of each bit to the end of a
stick four feet long, using a string of
such length that the stick will hang
just under the jaws. This wGk draw
the horses apart.
IF the ground and air are dry, com
press the soil above the corn; but if the
ground is wet and drying slowly, do
not compress it. If compression is un
avoidable, as it is when the two-horse
planter is used, loosen the ground with
the smoothing harrow.
THF. frequency of cultivation should
not be measured by days, but by con
dition of soil and atmosphere. Cultiva
tion should be ofteh enough to keep
weeds below the surface, to prevent
the formation of a crust on the sur
face, and»to keep broken near the sur
face the continuity of the crevices be
tween the soil particles. —American
Agriculturist.
A Tale of the Sea.
Mrs. niflier—Jack and Amy's meet
ing and falling in love, she told me,
was very romantic.
Miss Murray— Yes. Ihey were
sick on the Etruria together. Munsey I
Weekly.
The Tryst I)Uco«r«d.
Primus — I saw Dudley's wife consult
ing a lawyer alone to-day. hat s up?
Secundus —She is estranged from Dud
lev. She has just heard that he prom
ised to meet his first wife in heaven.—
Life.
She Could.
Crushed Opponent— ls there anyone
in the world who can beat you at sn
! argument?
Successful Opponent—Just come home
with me and meet my wife. — Munsey'i
Weekly.
lie Is l>ead.
Mrs. Scriblets— l see that the Aristo
tle manuscript has been published?
Mr. Scriblets — I fear that the P®/"
ment for it will be too late to do Mr.
Aristotle any good. —Puck.
An Implied Refusal.
Harrv—Did she positively refuse youl
Jack '(dejectedly )-Not exactly. When
I asked her if she ever thought of mar
rying, she .-.aid she had never yet had «
man ask her about it.— Epoch.
For the Collection.
"The government ought to coin hall
cents." growled Mr. Myse*.
••Would you go to church then?"
I asked his wife.—Jury.