VOL. XXX. Mfg. Jennie E£. Zimmerman. Courtesy Is extended to all who come to ns. No trouble to PLOW poods, OVEN if you do not want to buy. ft ie an easj to get out of our store as into it We think, however, yoa will find it to your advantage not to go away empty handed. We Sell Reliable Goods. It is worth a good deal to you, isn't it, to know you are getting the best there is of all goods handled in a first-class dry goods house for tie least money; worth a good deal to know you are getting the correct style in dreßS goods, millinery, wraps, Ac. See What We Have for You. New style Chalies, 5c per yard; beet brown muslin in the city. 5c per yard; beet and only fast colored black hose iu the city for be per pair, good prints at sc; best standard prints at 7c; Lancaster Ginghams*, 6c, Dress Ginghams, 8c to 25c; fine bleached Damask, 63 iacbea wide, worth 75c, for 60c; ull linen towling at 5c per yard. New Wash Gooks; Oudiae Stripes in • ■lac* with col> red figure, 12£ c, worth 15c; new Crepaline, 15c, Irish and Grecian Lawnn. 12£ c; colored figure Dimity, something entirely new, 12ic; l'sautilul line of French Sateens, in black and colon?; Ladies Jersey \ ests >' 9e; Children'* ribbed vests at sc; Men's fine balbriggan underwear,soc to £2 a rait; fine black eilk-finished Henriettas, 46 in., for 75c, worth sl. Such ; gh qualities and low prices are certcinly not attempted or equalled by any < - her house . One glance into our large show window will convince you « lead iu Milliuery. both in style and qualiy. Ask onr price. We will you that in this department, as in all others, our prices are the low est. MRS. JENNIE E. ZIMMERMAN. Successor to Ritter & Ralston. Are Yon One Of The Lucky Ones Who Will Attend The Grand Clearance Sale At 1 ' For the next two weeks. Remember it is not our fault if you come too late,it will commence Jan. 25 and continue till Feb. 4. Carpets, Cloaks, Underwear, Hosiery, Gloves, Corsets, Dry Goods, Flannels, Ginghams, CaJicoes, etc. See our big bargain counter 011 left hand side entering store. YOURS RESPECTFULLY, A. Troutmari & Son, i Leading Dry Goods and Carpet ( House, Butler, Pa. i i Jewelry, Clocks, Silverware, Purchasers can save from 25 to 50 per cent by purchasing their watches, clocks and spectacles of J. R. GRIEB, The Jeweler, No. 125 N. Main St., Duffy Block. Sign of Electric Bell and Clock. All are Respectfully Invited "Remember our Repairing Department — 20 years Experience."— , RINGS, Diamonds {SSSffESk 'STUDS, (GENTS GOLD, TX7 { LADIES GOLD, W atcnes \ GENTS SILVER LADIES CHATLAIN, Tn W fll J Gold Pin8 ' Kar " rin ? s > | Rings, Chains, Bracelets, Etc, {Tea sets, castors, butter dishes and everything that can be found in a first class store. im IRK. 1147 E. GRIEB, THE JEWELER No. 139, North Main St., BT7TLEB, PA., P ENN'A White-Sand Oil Co. [A. STEELSMITH, Manager,' Butler, Pa.] Dealers in Illuminating, Lubricating, Cylinder and Dynamo Oils—all free from Lima Oil. This Oil is made and handled by Independent Producers not con nected with the Standard Oil Co., as reported. All orders will be promptly filled. Warehouse in rear of Nicho as & Hewitt's planing mill, near West Penn depot, Butler, Pa. Refinery at Coraopolis, Pa., near P. & L. E. R. R. This oil can be secured at McCrea's Feed Store on E. Jefferson St THE BUTLER CITIZEN. BTHE KIND | f THAT CURES! 1 \ 1 11 1 I mm JEKOMI: BALL, A» Bi Waterferd, S. Y. g F§ TORTURING M I" Headache for 10 Years V% ■ b a H Dana's Sarsaparilla ~ "I WAS CURED!" | B M*. BALL WAS Tirr r: : : r T ■ RRM IF.ISR.B 35 DANA'S IN Coh«»I>. Li v: • =5 ■THE KEfI'LT. IN DAN A SAKS XV \KILLA < o.: ■ CiKNTLI Mr.:.: I hav»r : a .1- r L'. Hoailache the lawt t«*n j»... . L Sfa.: Sam I decided to try on • Ti- ■ »•*." ■1 greatly relieved me, o».-« by •• t.-n- I t:.;. ."JP Stwoniorc bottles I WAS MJKEU. I —3= jMj « DANA'S ■ SARSAJL'AIHLL \ | guaiiufe and r?lI:»Wc m* viiel'i". S Wrterforl, BALL. || ' 3 The truth of Mr. Ball'* •taiement i» •■ r t.-d : >=== Sb? M. MCDERMOTT. jgm mm Cohoo*, N. ¥. Pharmacist. ■■ S= Dana Sarsaparilla Co., Belfast, Maine. |P feed. For prices add t rms. Ad drefcs, J. W. MILLER, 131 Mn also ?ave \ou-money «n every article in one stocks of Cloth ing, Ilate, an i Gents Furnishiuga. THE RACKET STORE, 120 S. M:iin St.. : : Butler. Pa. SPRING STYLES READY. YOU WILL CERTAINLY HAVE A SUIT MADE TO ATTEND THE WORLD'S 'FAIR. YOU CAN AF FORD IT, WHEN YOU SEE THE SPLEN DID ASSORT MENT OF MATERIAL, AND THE MOD ERATE PRICE AT WHICH WE MAKE YOU A SUIT THAT IS ■CORRECT TO THE LATEST DECREE OF FASLI ION. -I? Aland's, Tailoring Establishment. C. & D. ALWAYS Take into consideration that m .nov saved is as good as money earned. The best way to Have money ia to buy good goods at the right price. The only reason that our trade is increasing constantly is the fact that we handle only goods of firet quality and Bell them at very low prices. Wo have taken il care to provide everything new in Hats and Furnishing Goods for this season, and as we have control of uiai. especially good articles in both liner we can do you good if you come to us. We conGdontly say that iu justice to thems.-lves all purchasers should inspect our goods. Visit us, COLBERT & DALE, 242 S. Main street, Butler, Pa. I. P. JfcJllXKlfi, Insurance and Krnl Estate As't 17 EAST JEFFERSON ST. BUTLER, - PA. ]. % l ifli U itiwi' '■ 'witi "AKI: VOU SATISFIED WITH THE TREATMENT OF THIS SLAVE YOU HAVE GIVEN ME?" \ v /-**• "WHO ARE YOR, AND WLIIIXCE COME YOU?" SHE ASKED. Night lay —a balmy, perfumed sum mer's night—upon the broad plains, the castled heights, the blooming vine yards of the Danube. On a high rock springing abruptly up from the water the castle of Thurzo was perched. At its foot nestled the straw-roofed huts of a little village. Slumber brooded over all above in the high vaulted chambers of the castle; below in the low clay huts of the village. Only the young and lively wife of the lord of the cattle still kept her vigil. The attendants, indeed, believed their mistress to have been asleerv«om~ hours back: but unknown t > all she had arisen from her couc.. -nil now sat alo- on a small balcony that Lung, per ed like a marten's nest, high up in one of the buttresses of the castle. As the lady sat there drinking in the beauty all around her, the strains of a violin, exquisitely played in the valley below, fell upon lier ear. It was a wonderfully sweet and subtle melody that now broke the stillness of the night, and fell like balm upon the heart of the listener. She sat there listening eagerly, intently, until the last note died slowly away. The next night, however, while seated as before on lier balcony and the music again falling on her ear, the countess summoned her maids and or dered messengers to be sent in search of the unseen musician. A jiage re turned presently bringing a gypsy with him. The gypsy wore a blouse of scar let linen, his feet were bare, and no covering was upon his long, black elf locks that hung divided about his brown, lean face; in one thin, tawny hand he held a battered old fiddle. In obedience to the countess' commands, he began playing one of those wild mel odies that form such a fitting accompa niment to the strange, beautiful dances of his race. In reply to the countess' questioning, he said that his name was Asboth; that for the present he and his wife were living in one of the huts in the village below. Soon, however, they would go back to their tribe, and resume their wandering life. The countess, who was anxious to keep him near her, proposed to him to enter her service. The gypsy con sented, but with the proviso that when the desire should come upon him to resume his free, wild life again he should be at liberty to do so. Some weeks after this, by a strango freak of destiny, the countess and the fypsy woman gave birth on the same va and at the same hour to boys. To the wife of the gypsy the young count was given to nurse, and in her care and to the music of Asboth's vio lins the two children grew up. From the very first, the sou of the count man ifested as much love for and skill at the instrument as the tiddler's son himself. Stephan, count of Thurzo, loved indeed the violin better even than horse or hound or faleou, better than tilting at the lists or riding in the tourney, bet ter, far better, than all study of books or rusty parchments. Both children wore apt and willing pupils of Asboth; and Count Thurzo, observing this, gave each of the lad* on histwclfth birthday a fine and valuable violin. Time passed on, and the children were now tall, handsome youths. The love they bore each other was as deep and fervent as that of twin brothers. In appearance, however, the, were quite unlike. For Gezas, the gypsy, was as brown :: a hazlenut, but Stephan, the count, red sii.d white as a flower. When from time to time Asbotli left hi.s home to go wandering 1 , fiddling through tile land, the two boys never failed to accompany him on these pil grimages. Although Stephan's parents tried to keep him home at their side, they were powerless to do so. En treaties, threats, punishments even, could not keep him from his beloved gypsy playmate and comrade. One day, however, when the lads were tall stripling's of 18 or I'.'. Asbotli fell heav ily to the ground, his preeious fiddle dropping: from his brown, nerveless fin gers. His young companions hastened to raise him up, but it was already too late, he was dead. He had died, how ever, as he had wished to die, on the high-road, the blue sky above him, the green turf beneath, lie was buried in the shade of the linden-tree where he fell, with his precious fiddle lying on his breast. The lads returned to the castle directly after, bringing' the news of their companion's fate with them. For some weeks after, they remained quietly at home; then again the longing for their wandering, trouba dour life attacked them, and this time fctronger than ever before. They had been oil the road some days when one hot. sultrv afteruoo" *»><«• iiirTLER, PA.,FRIDAY, J UNE 9, IS9B. found themselves just outside the gates of the town of Prcsburg. They were weary and footsore, and laid themselves down beneath a wide-spreading elm tree to rest. Lying there half asleep, they were suddenly aroused by the sound of a hunting-horn in their imme diate vicinity. Directly after, a stag purs -d 1 ••.- dogs and hunters burst fron. . thicket not far away from them. A huntress rode at the head of the tro'M>. a young and beautiful woman. When the stag had been brought to bay, it was she who, dismounting, came forward to give him the de^th-^ii^ike. WUUU la >I R TTrsmr- •>' I ■"* > ' |T > «T»*- 11* a was about to ride- av/ay agviin, Svephan seized his violin and played, a soft, yearning melody. The lady, turn ing lier horse, came up to where he lay beneath the tree, and. drawing rein, remained listening in silence till the last straiu had died away. Slu> gazed long and attentively at the count, then asked imperiously: "Who are you? Whence come you?" "We are strolling musicians," answered Stephan, modestly, yet with out a trace of servility in mind or tone. "We are called, in the country round about, 'the two fiddlers.' " The lady nodded her head thought fully. "I have heard of you before. You, however, are no gypsy, no strolling fiddler. How is it that you lead the life of one?"' "The love of music, of change, of the sight of fair smiling faces, causes me to journey, fiddling, about the land," he returned, looking at her with eyes ■ns proud and unflinching as her own. And if she was struck by his handsome face und nobility of form and stateli ness of bearing, he in his turn was no less fascinated by her wonderful beauty. His eyes rested admiringly on her slight, supple figure, which her elose-fittiug habit of dark green velvet set off to the greatest advantage; on her dainty little head with its long, dark ringlets, on which a little cap of velvet with heron's feathers was jauntily perched; on her dark blue eyes that smiled down at him as he stood there before her. "Would you not like to enter my ser vice?" she asked, after a few moments' thoughtful consideration of the two. "Too great an honor for us, gracious lady," interposed Gezas, suddenly. He too had examined the lady as atten tively as his companion, but unlike him he distrusted and disliked her from the first glance. "Hut we will gladly pass a few days beneath your roof, if you will allow us, gracious lady," Stephan hastened to add, eagerly. "Very well," she returned; "follow my train into the #ity; you will not be able to keep up with us, but any child you meet in the street will direct you to the palace of the Princess Irma Graf sallcowicli." She nodded and galloped off, followed by her suite. Stephan was already acquainted with her, at least by reputation. She was a widow, much courted and sought after, but who hail as yet shown no desire to put her head beneath the yoke of wedlock a second time. The court at Presburg rivalled in splendor that of the emperor's at Vienna, and in its patronage of poets, artists, and sculptors that of the Medici at Florence. She took also a lively interest in politics, and was supposed to favor the Imperial party, though at the same time managing to keep on friendly terms with Kakoczy and the paslia-governors of the provinces in Hungary under the dominion of the sultan. Neither party, however, could boast of having attached her to its side, and she was therefore courted and distrusted by both. When the princess had returned to her palace and had dined, she remem bered suddenly the two wandering minstrels she had encountered in the morning. She sent for them and had them ushered into her boudoir. The princess received them lying on a splendid Turk ish divan, alone and unattended. Stephan entered the apartment, fol lowed at a distance by Gezas. He bowed low before lier and silently awaited her commands. "You are no gypsy," she began abruptly, after eying him for some moments in silence. "No strolling, wandering minstrel, at least by birth. Were you stolen when a child from your home by the gypsies, and have you Jived among them ever since?" "No. highness," was the brief answer. "Who and what are you?" she de manded with impatience. "Pardon me, highness, if I for the present keep that a secret" What is your name—or is that too a "Stephan, highness."' "Play for me. Stephan—but nothing you have heard or learned. Let your soul, your heart, speak to mine in music." Stephan obeyed. When lie had fin ished playing the princess remained silent for a while, then suddenly ex claimed. "Your music could teach one ' how to love." "Is love, then, a lesson tc oe learned?' | ke returned quickly. "You are no wandering fiddler," she j replied in her turn. "Let the mask drop now. It is time. Who are you?" i "Stephan, Count Tliurzo." he an swered, flinging himself at her feet and pressing his lips to her hand. She smileddown at him and did not withdraw her hand. Stephan remained at the palace; in a short time he was the declared and ac- cepted lover of the princess. Hut he was not happy. His fiancee refused to fcwt any time for the marriage. When he urged a speedy union, she laughed at liiin for his impatience or grew rest less at his importunity. Often she was cold and haughty to him. as though he were really a base-born fiddler, living on her bounty, instead of a great and powerful magnate. Then Stephan, growing weary of the treatment he re ceived at his fickle mistress' hands would wander off again with Gezas throughout the country. Several times he returned to his own castle, vowing never again to return to I'resburg. lint the wily princess understood well how to lure him back again, to keep him se curely in her toils and at her feet. One day. however. Stephan. sitting with Gezas on the banks of the Danube opposite a little island where the prin cess had built herself a summer pavil ion, was addressed by his companion: Why are you sad to-day, count?' Stephan gave no answer but sighed deeply. "You are tormented by the treat ment of the princess toward you. Think of her no longer, my lord. She is false—in every way. Incapable of truth or faithfulness. She is in no way worthy of a love like j-ours." "You use strange words—you a gypsy —in speaking of a great and noble lady." "True words, nevertheless, my lord. And 1 can prove their truth. This princess you love is both false and cruel, as I can show you this very night if you choose to have me do so." "What is it you know about her — speak." "I know that this princess hesitates to bestow her hand upon you, although she loves you —that is, as much as such l woman can love—because she is am bitious and hopes to wed the illegiti mate son of the emperor. She dreams, too, with France and Turkey's aid, to one day sit upon the throne as viceroy »f Hungary." "Can this be true?"' "That it is so you can discover to aight, yourself. On that island yon ler the princess will within an hour aave an interview with Eakoczy. If rou choose, we can row across to the sland, and, concealing ourselves in the grotto near the pavilion, be wit nesses of what will take place at this interview." "What shall I decide?" exclaimed Stephan, despairingly—"trust her im plicitly, as 1 love her devotedly, or lis ten to you, who do not like her and have always distrusted her?" "Kelieve and trust in neither of us, but to your own eyes and ears, and that too at once. Within an hour you can see and hear what sort of a woman it is whom you love and wish to murry. Aml this vei'y night—only trust to my guidance." "That I will do gladly," answered Stephan. "Then follow me," returned the gypsy, and going down to the river he unmoored a boat lying there, and, the two stepping into it, Gezas took the oars und rowed across to the island on which stood the pavilion. On reaching the opposite bank, the gypsy concealed the boat among a clump of weeds and rushes and the two crept softly and stealthily through the thick shrubbery surrounding the garden until they reached the grotto, where they concealed themselves be hind a thick veil of ivy hanging before the mouth of the grotto. They were quite secure from all eyes, however sharp. They had not lain very long in silence when voices broke the stillness of the night. Peering through the ivy, Stephan could see by the light of the moon a tall, stately man wrapped in a dark mantle, upon whose arm the prin cess leaned familiarly. They came straight up to the grotto and seated themselves on a bench near it The moonlight, shining full on the face of the cavalier, enabled Stephan to recog nize him as Kakoczy, prince of Sieben burgen. Every word of the conversa tion between the princess and her com panion was now audible to him. From its tenor he was not long left in doubt in regard to the rela tion between the two. They were betrothed; their wedding would follow as soon as Rakoczy's ambitious plans both as regarded the emperor and the sultan should have been successful. They parted as lovers part, and it was with great reluctance that liakoczy bade adieu to his fiancee. She, on her part, seemed but little inclined to lin ger. Their ambitious schemes dis cussed, their plans of aggrandizement and conquest laid out, she was quite willing to have her lover go on his way. It was plain, even to Stephan's jealous eyes, that ambition was leading her to make this marriage—her heart was not in it Hut he was furious at her perfidy, furious at seeing his hopes shattered — at knowing that this fair, false woman had played with his honor and his af fections. He determined to fly from her presence. He would make her no reproaches, he would go this very night—and without a word. That night Irma heard beneath her chamber windows the music of Stephan's violin. She smiled as she listened, little know ing that it was a farewell her lover was bidding her —an eternal farewell. When she became aware, however, that Stephan was gone, and forever, she sought to win him back again. She sent messenger after messenger after him to bid him return to her. As mes sages proved unavailing, she had re course to writing. Letter after letter followed Stephan after his return home. Hut all her endeavors were fruitless. Stephan refused to listen to her messages; ho left her letters un answered. Then her love, rejected, disdained, turned to hatred, bitter, burning, furious hatred. All her thoughts were now of revenge-re venge 011 the lover who had deserted her, who scorned her so bitterly. He gave her no reasons for his desertion of her In the meantime Stephan remained quietly at home with his parents, lie gave up, for some time afterward, his troubadour-like wanderings about the country with his foster-brother Gezas. Only when he received authentic in formation of the princess' marriage to her former suitor Siebcnburgen and de parture for the bridegroom's castle in Hungary did he resume his wanderings. One day, however, when in the neigh borhood of a forest ou the edge of the pasha of Ofen's domain, the two musi cians beeaine suddenly aware that they were being followed by a man oil horse back This horseman appeared, how ever, rather to be a spy upon their movements than to have any intention of attacking and robbing them. They hastened their footsteps, as the neigh borhood was unknown to them, aud titeir clu|e proxjioity to Tufkkh ttrri torr not reassuring 1 . They soon, however, vueooded in leav ing the forest behind them. About a mile farther on. they eaiue upon a ezarda (inn 1 and entered it The horse man had some time be fore ridden away. During the niffht. however, when Stc phan and Gezas hail retired to rest, there came a loud knocking at the door of the czarda. On the innkeeper's open ing it. a band of armed and masked men pushed violently pa*t him into the house and entered the chamber where the foster-brothers were lying, and, bid ding them arise and dress as quickly as possible, bound them and carried them oft. On they went through the dark ness until they came to a blight emi nence where a group of mounted men were drawn up. By the flickering' red of the torches the prisoners could see that these last were Turks. To them they were handed over by their captors. The leader of the troop, after looking closely at the prisoners for some moments in silence, exclaimed: "The gypsy Ido not want. Let him be off." And Gezas, who would have lingered near his master, was driven away by blows of the horsemen's long whips. Stephan. however, was bound securely to a horse and the troops gal loped off After some hours' journey be was brought into the presence oi the pasha of Ofen. The latter measured him with haughty looks of exultation, und exclaimed in exultaut tones: "You are now my slave: aud in my service be sure you will be taught, and thoroughly, the virtues of obedience and humility." Aud now be'-r.iu for Stephan a tiineoi unmitigated and unameliorated misery. He was given the hardest tasks, loaded with chains and every indignity. He was attached-to the personal suite of the pasha, but this was done, not as a favor, but to give his captor an oppor tunity of pursuing him continually with a tyrannv and severity that knew no abatement * The pasha seemed really to revel in inflicting torments and humiliations upon his victim. Stephan's belief, that this inhuman treatment of him was due to the hatred feltby a fanatic Turk toward oue whom he knew to be a Christian, was soon to be dispelled by an incident that took place some weeks afterhisimprisoument One day he was taken by two soldiers into a field ad joining the pasha's place: there he was harnessed to a plough and driven in the furrows. When he stumbled or reeled from fatigue and weakness, he was driven forward by heavy blows from long whips of bullock's hide. While this scene was being enacted, the pasha, accompanied by a woman wrapped from head to foot in a thick veil, came into the field, and from a small hill in the middle of it stood watching the spec tacle in silence. At last Stephan fell face forward to the ground, and lay there moaning, unable to rise in spite of the blows that were rained down by the drivers on his prostrate, quivering body. At that moment the woman, stepping up to where he lay, and spurning him with a tiny foot incased in a gilded slipper, threw back her veil, revealing to the tortured man's haggard eyes the faoo of his former mistress, Princess Irma. "Ah, you recognize me, then, Connt Thurzo," she exclaimed, laughing scornfully. Stephan making her no re ply, she went on furiously, "I am she whom you swore to love faithfully, and then basely deserted." "That is a falsehood," he returned hotly. "Do not attempt to deny it," she re turned violently. "Y'ou forsook me. And I—l have revenged myself well on you—for your treachery. It was I that delivered you Into the pasha's hands, that made you his slave—and your slav ery will be a perpetual one. Of that I have taken care. The ransom your parents have already offered the pasha has been scornfully refused by him. No ransom—not even that of a king— could free you from his bonds. You will die a slave, a tortured, miserable wretch, who will desire death, and long for him as for a deliverer." Stephan gave no answer. With the patience of a Christian and the courage of a hero he submitted silently to the inevitable. That very evening, however, at sup per, while waiting at table on the pasha and the princess, he was again subjected to gross indignity. "Down on your face, slave," thundered the paslia in stentorian tones, and, motion ing with his hand to three black slaves standing near, Stephan was flung by them face downward on the floor before the pasha. He placed his foot on the neck of the prostrate figure and turn ing to the princess seated at his side in quired: "Are you satisfied now, princess, with my treatment of the slave you have sent me?" "Quite satisfied," she answered, cast ing a look of gratified hate and malice at Steplian, lying in the dust befora her. While Stephan was the victim of a slighted woman's vengeance, Gezas sought assiduously for a way to liber ate his master. He managed at last tc effect an entrance into the pasha's pal ace in the disguise of a peddler. In this garb he penetrated into the harem and discovered, among the in mates there, a young girl whose heart had been touched by the sufferings and indignities that the captive nobleman was subjected to by the tyranny of the pasha. One night, therefore, Stephan, lying sleepless in his cell, heard the sound ol a violin played softly beneath his win dow. He recognized the air as one that he and Gezas had often played together. Directly after, a stone, around which a slip of paper was wrapped, was flung in at the window. On the paper was written: "To-morrow night—midnight —in the east arbor in the small garden." A few more notes, played softly, fol lowed—then all was silent as before. The next night at midnight Stephan stole unperccived into the garden and concealed himself in the arbor. To his great surprise, after waiting some min utes, there appeared, not Gezas, whom he expected, but a slight, veiled female figure. He mistrusted treachery at first, but was reassured when, on the figure throwing back the veil, the beautiful face of one of the ladies of the harem was revealed. It was that of a young girl who only a short time before had been brought as a slave to the pasha. These two, captives though they were, had yet managed to exchange glances glances that spoke pity on her side and profound admiration on his. Falling at the feet of the lovely Zobeide, StepliaE covered her small hands with kisses. "Only a word is necessary," she whispered, "do you really love me?" "With all my heart—from my inmost soul." "I will help you to escape," she re turned: "but if you would regain youi liberty, you must trust and obey me implicitly." "That I will do cheerfully," he an swered, smilingly. The lady seemed about'to speak again when a low note from Gezas' fiddle warned them to separate immediately. A whole week of suspense was now passed by Stephan. During that time he heard nothing of either Zobeide oi Gezas. One morning, however, when Stephan had almost given up hope of ever effect ing his escape, as he was waiting in the ante-chamber of the pasha while the latter was holding an audieree. Gezas, in his guise of a pedler, came quickly into the room and slipped a scrap of paper silently into his hand. On it were scribbled a few words \v liich in formed him that on that very evening after sundown the ladies of the harem would be taken to th« baths on tjt. Margaret's island, %ii Island ia ths Danube a short distance away from the pa!*ce of the pasha. They would be takaii out to the island in a paliey rowed by slaves and guarded by two eunuchs. Stephan was to slip into the g-arden. and. as there would be no moon that night, he could swim to the island and under cover of the darkness hide himself among the tall reeds that grew on the banks. When, that evening, the bark had sailed away to the island, the count stole into the garden, and, climbing the wall surrounding it, dropped into the river and swam to the opposite bank. The bark had already landed, and as he lay there hidden among the reeds he could hear the voices and soft laughter of the ladies proceeding from the bath-houses near by. Suddenly from a little red-roofed kiosk a silvery veil was wared once, twice, thrice. Directly after, a boat put off from the opposite bank and ■ rowed swiftly and silently toward the . spot where Stephan lay concealed. Aa ; it crime closer, the watcher could detect, even in the obscure half-light, the well known form of Gezas. A low whistle from the count enabled the rower to push his lioat in where he lay. Re waa helped into it by his faithful friend, and. after a few moments of anxious waiting, light footsteps wore heard running down the bank and Zobeide appeared, peering anxiously around for the boat Stephan jumped quickly ont again, and, lifting up the lady in hia arms, waded out again to the boat, where, after placing her in it, he fol lowed. A few rapid strokes of Gezas' strong arms sent them flying down the stream In less than a half-hour they were outside of Turkish jurisdiction and in the dominion of Hungary. All danger was now over. One can well imagine the joy and rapture with which Stephan's parents received their long-lost son again, and the latter's gratitude toward the fair Zobeide and faithful foster-brother. Hardly, however, was their son at home again than the hearts of both his parents thirsted for revenge on the cruel and haughty Turk who had im prisoned and ill-treated him. Heralds were sent by Stephan's father to the pasha of Ofen challenging him to mortal combat with his whilom cap tive. Others were sent to the consort of Princess Irma with a similar mes sage. No notice was taken of the chal lenge. One night, however, not long after, the pasha, at the instigation of Gezas, who had corrupted a gypsy slave of the Turk's, was seized by his own - body-slaves, bound hand and foot, and thrown on board a vessel at anchor in the Danube. It was the intention of Gezas. who commanded this vessel, to carry his prisoner to Stephan, to be dealt with as the latter might deem fit. But an alarm having been given by other inmates of the palace, galleys were sent in pursuit of the vessel to rescue the pasha. When the captors of the Turk saw that their pursuers were gaining on them, they set upon the pasha and slew him as he lav there bound upon the deck. Than jumping into the river they endeavored to escape by swimming. They were fired on by those in pursuit, and many killed. Gezas, however, got off safely and made his way back to the castle. Shortly i afterward, the I'rincess Irina's castle was attacked by Steplian and a troop of his retainers, the lady taken prisoner and confined in one of the towers at Thurzo Castle. Here she languished a year, when she was set free, it being the occasion of Stephan's Zobeide. The fair infidel remained at the castle in the care and under the guardianship of Stephan's parents. During that time she was instructed in the tenets of the Chris tain religion by the chaplain of the castle. She was baptized and married on the same day. In the great picture gallery of the ancient castle of Thurzo, two portrait* hanging on the wall never fail to at tract attention and admiration. One is the portrait of a handsome, blond man wearing the dress of a magnate oi Hungary; at his side hang's a short, curved, jewelled sabre, while in one; hand he grasus a violin. The other portrait represents a beau- j tiful, dark-eyed, dark-haired young woman dressed in Turkish costume j From her white shoulders droops a long caftan of silver brocade; her darli tresses are surmounted by a turban oi filmy silver gauze. All Improvl«e«l Lakn. A strange phenomenon is now being observed with special interest by the inhabitants of Sprottau and its neigh borhood. In the southwestern portion of this district there exists a tradition to the effect that, near the village of Koberbrunn, a large lake comes into existence every thirty-flve years, and then gradually disappears. The younger generation have hitherto treated the reports of their elders as pure fiction, but recent facts have been too strong for them. The area of the lake, now covered with a dense fii plantation, covers over a depression in the ground to the extent of 400 (Ger man) acres. This surface, at ordinary times perfectly dry, is now half sub merged. The water is rising rapidly in this basin, the trees are doomed to de struction, and what was a short time ago the camping ground of stags and roes, is now a vast sheet of water. In olden times the lake was called the Faudensee. In a Nutshell. She—What is the difference between the old game of football and the new game? He —Formerly they kicked the ball, now they kick each other. Too Sudden. Dicky—What makes you look so sad Jacky? Did she refuse to name the day? Jacky— That's just the trouble She named next Thursday.—Truth. Iteanon in All Thing*. Bingo (at breakfast) —Seems to m« those waffles come up very slow. Mrs Bingo—My dear, the cook hasn't had her breakfast yet—Judge Where It Went. Mrs. Kerstyle— l gave you more mate rial to make this dress than I ever used in a garment before, and the skirt ia hardly full enough to fit a. churn. How does this happen? Dressmaker (shrugging her shoul ders)—Madame inseested on having ze sleeves in zo height of ze fashong.— Chicago Tribune. A Discovery. "I got a very clever counterfeit dol lar the other day." "Get it in change?" "No; Wadslelgh loaned it to noe " "Wadsleigh? How did you discover it was counterfeit?" "Bit it to see if I was a wake. "-'■ Ch icago Record. City Steam. Teacher —Do you know what staam is? Little Girl—Yes'm; it's something that cracks awful and never gota warm. "Humph! Where did you get that idea?" "Our flat Is heated by lit."—Good News. __ Capital Definition. "Say, pa," asked a little) iHghlapd Park youngster of hia parent, "What is a phenomenon?" "A phenomenon, my son,< Is a wonaan who doesn't make a m(t Idas her dirty, slobber-mouthed baby.' I —