VOL -xxx is Coming OIK I R.Sffc.Buy your presents I Christmas Sale plete. and. if you desire, Commences FRIDAY * * before Christmas. DEC. 1 1893. ___ ■■■■■■■■ We are showing a large assortment of Beautiful and Lseful Pres ents. No trouble to find something to suit you if you COME AT ONCE. NOTHING NICER THAN ONE OE OUR Banquet Lamps, Brass Lamps, Piano Lamps, Onyx Stands, Oak Stands, 'Mahogany Stands, Gold Chairs, Pictures, Easels, Screens, Music Cabinets, Book Cases, Writing Desks, Blacking Cases, Couches, Rugs, Rocking Chairs in Endless Variety. -Mo Fine Decorated Pottery#- WE HAVE Doulton, Royal Worcester, Tepletz ant Many Other Fine Makes. VIN TABLE WARE++* WE HAVE China Dinner Sets, Porcelain Dinner Sets Plain White China Dinner Sets, Fancy Dishes of all Kinds ~TOILE7T SETTS CMi TEfLETON Butler, - Penn a. The First Cold Wave Of the Season Reach, ed us This Week And is liable to be followed if weather predictions are realized b> many more of much greater severity. We are prepared for it and can offer you seasonable goods in all our different departments. Hard times did not prevent us laying in a large stock of Stylish Winter Wraps, . Dress Goods and Millinery, and we never had such an elegant line of Hosiery, Underwear, and words fail to describe our Blankets, Flannels, Yarns, Outings, &c. A visit to our Munffljtb CM and Millinery Department, which is the largest and best lighted in Butler county; will convince you that this is the Ladies' Emporium for styles, finish and quality. The Celebrated Rothschild Wraps need no comment, as they arc acknowledged to be the best fitting garment manufactured in this county. The only place outside of Pittsburg where you can L'ct these wraps is at the popular store of Jennie E. Zimmerman. N. B. Space prevents us quoting prices, but we guarantee our prices to be the lowest in Bmler county in each and every depart ment of our store. HOT COFFEE ON SATURDAYS. J K. '/ DON'T buy until you see DOUTIIETT <fc GRAHAMS bargains in Clothing, Ilats and Gents Furnishing Goods, Cor. Main & Cunningham Sts. BUTLER, PA. GREAT SALEtf ~ This is the kind of weather to buy sleighs,robes and horse blankets cheap at MARTINCOURT & (JO'S. Come and see us, 128 Last Jeflcrson St., a few doors above I.owry House. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. COLBERT & DALE, 242 S Main street, Butler, Pa, We are pleased to inform those w lio appreciate clothes that are comfortable and fit correctly, that our selection of Fall patterns are here. They are %) handsome and mod erate priced. See them. 41and, Tailor. +GWYES+ ir.' our specialty this week. Gloves for 451 75c Gloves for 65c. f 100 Gloves for 90c. Ini our Entire Glove Stock at Equally iOW Prices. [HE RACKET STORE, 120 South Main Street, i'utlcr, I'a. Hotel Hutler, J. H. KAUUKL, I'rop'r. This house has been thorough y renovated, temodclcd, and re itted with new furniture and :arpet*; has electric- bells and all <ther modern conveniences for juests, and is as convenient, and lesirablc a home for strangers as an be found in Butler, I'a. Elegant sample room for use of ommercial men I ;■*•••■• • •« 1 LKWIS M. Rjm'M, ■ South Hartwick, IT. T. [LS, CARBUNCLES!! AMI HH !! TORTURIN6 ECZEMA, " Completely Cured I M SAftfiAPABIIXA CO . ■■ S >-r»o |tn V l ' I hid 4, L: f»'rippp M ~ ruut bar* jtoUuned my I.l<whJ u C t/> "Hhinclea " E» ur is t h*7T wont form. I took IWTS of Dr ■ but th«y left me v;rie§g| «bk to work- W JH I m terrify sfflktcd withss 1 L' boil*, had »ix *n-3 tu o rar- »> M it on** time. I IT.- -i -fn". hrtr of but eor.ti:,a«! to ha*e boll*. ' AT Add*d v. «u. rv.# l>ifnaM ■ » » tonmued m-; rjzjrht and ctjr. t- * iu inten*». I bad Kr-re paiea in r'.zhlSa 1 bark, runtin.ial hcadMhf. !■■ DCQ »■» di«rr uraeed. At igi n CO htsrd of DANA 8 SAfifiAi'A-s , eoramraecd u*»ng it and the thJrUH COBfletfl) H BCD rr/ S Ycmzt resprrtfu'^T, uwu M KDMUHD4. ■ Hirtt. k, N V mm The tnui uf the abore it crrtifWl u> br ■ IL K. BOLBBOOK, P. M. ■ booth JUrw.i. h*. V = I Dana Samparilla Co., Bttfasi, Main*. {■ C. & D. ALWAYS Take into consideration that money Raved is as pond an money «arne . The best V:H) to pave m r;»y ie to bo? go</d •- at the rigf>- price Tbe only that our tra-Ie ie increasing constantly is tbe fact ih .t we handle or;If goods of first quality and Bell them at very low prices We have takert una-'uul care to provide everything n»-vv in Hats and Goods for this seat-on, and as we have control of ii:an especially good a- ides in both lines we can do you good if you come to as. W< confiri« Lilly say that in justice to theme- Ives ail should inspect onr goods. Visit us. a. [Cor> :; .. bj-A-N K«!iocz CHAPTE3 XIV. 11V KATE. Cntii nearly even in;* <~f the next day 1 was soli , n- T * in that house. t"n -iißun! or.t- f-tloor labors kept, Le Fevre away from early morning 1 till dark; and neither Corclie nor her father ap peared at the breakfast or dinner table. "De ole massa powerful sick in 'le night," said one of the women who waited on me. " 'l'ears like he done git no sleep, and Missy Coral up an' down wid him. Tell us what we do for yo\ sah, an" we do um." I strolled down to the bayou and strolled back. I tried to get interested In a book, and threw one after another aside. Was it the natural longing- for her who had now become necessary to my existence?—or was it the restless ness provoked by the shadows of com ing events? Coralie—always Coralie. She had taken possession of me: I could think of nothing else. I have ventured upon no description of her face and form; I will not. She was all that Mr. Dorion had said of her, and more. JJut who was it that thna thought of her and hoped for her? A poor adven turer, with a few paltry dollars in his pocket; a dependent this moment upon her father's hospitality. Aye, indeed: —was that my position? Be it so. The other side of the ques tion quickly appeared. There was danger threatening—danger to Coralie. The very air was full of it, since the ill-omened visit of the previous night. "Did he say anything about yon, Corry?" was her fathers anxious question. What might he have said? —what could he say?—what was it that he had threatened to tc-11 all through La Fourche? —the threat of which had forced Mr. IJostock to the humiliating confession that this scoundrel was his Evidently the mysterious terror that brooded at Pierce Bo&tock's heart largely concerned his daughter. The man who sought her must seek her under this cloud. He must take his risk. Was I prepared to do this? Was I prepared? Yes! A thousand times yes. I would face anything, dare anything, for her. I exulted, with a fierce exultation, to know that there must be some sacrifice on my part. I wanted something to dare; something to suffer for her sake. The parting words of Le Fevre on the previous night recurred to me. "The old man couldn't live without her. I've sometimes thought that the love of her is all that keeps him alive. Many promising young fellows, the eons of the wealthiest planters about here, have tried to court her, but he's driven them all off. lie lias seemed to be in a perfect terror of her falling in love with anyone. But he needn't have troubled himself so far. She hasn't eared a straw for any of them." Would it not be so with me, both as to the father and daughter? I could not tell. liut I resolved to quickly find out. Events were fast shaping my course, and the startling occur rence of the evening before had em boldened me to speak out. It was almost sunset when she came down from her father's chamber, wearied from loss of sleep, languidly beautiful in her white wrapper, with her black hair unbound and fastened back with a net. She came and sat by me on the sofa. "51c is asleep now," she said, antici pating iny ciucstlon. "I hope it will last long enough to rest his poor dis tracted mind and his weak body. It all comes from the shock of that bad man's visit last night. He will not talk with me about It—but in his sleep he cries out his name, and prays him not to speak of me —and O, Mon Dieu, It is horrible! Can it be that this hid eous man is my brother?" "I fear it is so. Mr. Dorlon told me so. He said that he came to the plan tation near Vicksburg when you were an infant, with your father; that ho was always called a son; and that it was supposed, when he went away during your childhood, that on account of his evil course your father had hired him to leave." "Ah, me! I have no memory of him. Why does papa fear him?" "I wish I knew." "These things are dreadful. What arc we to do—what will become of us?" "Do not despair. We may never hear of that man again." "Ah, you do not know the condition that poor papa is In! It Is pitiful to see him. He begs me not to leave him; he calls on (Conrad not to betray him." "He Is delirious " "No, no; it iB In his sleep. Since last night, it has seemed to me as if I could never be light-hearted or happy again. It seems as though some dreadful calamity was threatening us." "You want rest and sleep yourself. You must not be so sad." "Am I sad? Well, think of it. Here is papa, sick with fright from that man; he will die suddenly, some time, the doctor says- and then there is nobody to protect me or care for me. Mr. Le Fcvre, perhaps -but he is so rough, though his heart is good. I am troubled" All this was merely the natural out pouring of the heart, by one whose life had always been sunny, who had not known what grief was. It was my op portunity; I could not neglect It. My heart beat fast as I took the plunge. "There is fine to protect you, Coralic; there is one w ho would die for you, but who hopes to live long for you. Have you not thought of mo in this trouble?" She looked down; her long black lashes lay on her fair face. "I did think of you," she said. "Hut 1 did not know how you felt toward me." •'Not know!" I echoed. "Could I have toiii you plainer than by my looks, my actions, my very alienee? Shall I tell you now that 1 love you dearly, and will stand between you and all peril?" She looked into my eyes; her head was on my shoulder; my arms were about her. "O Dorr, is it true?" she whispered. "I have dreame<l It, but never dared to think It. Is It really true?" We sat an<l talked until tin- twilight. I do not know how long; I only know that the world was lost to both of us In that time. Why should I repeat here what we said, the vows we ex-, changed, the air castles we built? With lovers and first, love the way has always been tin- »mt since the days of fcden before the serpent. Coralic at length started up. "Let me go," she said. "I have been too long away from papa. If lie has waked he has mi l ed inc." She 100 l d to the door, and a start. My arm was still aliout her; my hand held hers. The figure of a man »too<! in tin- doorway. The blinds wen •■!! the windows were up; the brilliant twilight Illuminated the, f oc,m b^titjiu<i bowcd_Jig- m T TLTCK. PA., FRIDAY. DKCEMHE]{ S. ISiK*. urc or fierce liostocli. icaumi; oa ru» canes. Ife faw us: he saw our attitude. I had become used to his moods, to his ptem nrd forbidding facial expres sions; yet I must confess that nothing had I seen in him to equal the blank dismay, the consternation, with which he saw Coralie in my arms. CHAPTER XV. THE STCXNING TRUTH. He tottered to a chair, and sank in it. "He, too!" he moaned. '"Must he share in the punishment? Must every thing I touch be destroyed? Just God, my punishment is greater than I can bear." I was about to try to explain the situation in which he had found me. Uefore I could do so, he reached out to the bell cord and jerked it. A slave girl presently appeared. '•Close the blinds; shut the windows; bring 1 a light," he commanded. She obeyed. When she had gone, he told me to lock the door. I did it, wondering what was next to happen. "Now we are alone; we shall not be disturbed," he said. "Tell me what this means." I still held the girl in my arms; she tried not to escape. Her compliance emboldened me; I spoke out, not only as I wished. but as I thought she would have me speak. . "Mr. Bostock, if I have presumed too much upon your friendship, and upon the kind treatment I have had in this house, I beg you to forgive me. I can only plead my love in excuse. I am poor, as you know, but for yon and a very few others, I am friendless; but I love Coralie. It come of itself; I did not seek it nor invite it; I could not help it. That is all." I watched his face closely, and mr heart sank ae I saw that it was hard and cold. "Indeed!" he said, with something almost like a sneer. "Perhaps I ought not to be surprised at this, but I take little heed of what passes around me. Corry, how is it with you? Speak the truth to me, as you always have. Is this merely an idle fancy—or do you love him?" "I do love him." She raised her head, and looked steadily at her father. He heard me; he heard her; and his harshness disappeared. lie crossed his arms upon his breast, he bowed his head upon them; great sighs burst from him as he rocked himself to and fro. ".My crime—my crime!" he moaned. "Must they suffer for it? —they, the innocent ones whom I love!" Coralie heard that cry from his despairing soul and was on her knees by him. She clasped his hands; she \ "IT'I THE MAUK Of < " begged him to look upon her, to kiss her, to call her his darling. He looked at her, hut it was with rueful, despair ing face. "Dorr," he said, "come here. Sit down in this chair before me. Sum mon your strength; and you, Coralie be strong, if you can. You have con fessed that you love each other; let that love strengthen yon for what i;. to come. The time has come when the hitter truth must come out. It is an hour that I have feared and dreaded for years, and one that I have prayed mitf ht never come. Yet how can I hold ilence any longer? When a man tells me that he loves you and would marry you, Corry; when you confess that you love hirn 1 must speak out. The lie that I have lived for your sake, my child, can no longer bo concealed; you and Dorr must know it. I'ray God that the truth shall not divide you!" He covered his face and shuddered. I looked at Coralie; I sought to take ier hand. She withdrew it, and looked with frozen face at her father. "You spoke of poverty a moment since," he resumed. "That is nothing -tome. ! am rich 1 like you. Dorr 'ewett, as you know. I could depart in peace if I knew you two were to he bappy. Hut " lie looked from one to t he other, and hesitated. He had bidden us strengthen jurscl ves for the revelation that he had not the courage to make. "Coralie, give me your hand." She placed it almost mechanically In his palm, lie held It up and looked at It a shapely little band, with tapering lingers and rosy nails. I thought his mind was wandering; I WHS almost sure of it when he spoke (gain, rudely, almost fiercely: "This is the hand you want, I)orr Jewett, is it? Look at it closely, lw>y, closely!" Coralie softened and trembled. She must have thought, with me, that he was crazed. "Look at the base of the finger-nail; M:e the little quarter-circle, which upon vour nails und mine is pure white. Look at hers!" We looked. The circular mark was tltisky and elonded. "Aye, It is the murk of Cain! It Kpeaks a terrible truth, that I have kept hidden from the world. ISut one man living knows It, beside myself; there was another once who threat ened to reveal it—and I slew him. (iirl, there is a drop of blood in your veins that is of the despised race. Yon are my child; but your mother was not my wife. She was a slave; and you, following her condition, are also a •la vet" CHAI'TKB XVL WK TWO I have no very clear idea of what immediately followed that a't-oundiiiK revelation. Ido remember that there was a silence in which the tick of the clock on the marble shelf sounded like thunder. I realized the fuil force of the discovery, but was made dumb and motionless by it. Coralie, I think, lid not at first fully comprehend it. lier great eyes were lighted with curi ous inquiry. "Why, that is strange, papa," she Mild. "That dreadful man's mother was not my mother; I am very triad of that. Hut who was my mother?" "Louise Le Honfant, a In-autiful I'reole, whom I bought ol Napoleon ('astex I I,'tuyUt fur, girl—do you un derstand? She died in giving you (jJrth, and the sliaum and sorrow of (VE HEARD THE STORY FROM JTIB OWN IJtPB this bitter hour are spared her. The blood of the best French families of Louisiana for generations back was in her veins: she was beautiful, edu cated. accomplished, just as you are; uo man could have dreamed that a •lrop of baser blood was hers. What ' '.hat? For a hundred years her mothers had been slaves; by the cruel, ni..n-.,,rous law of this state, that con dition is yours. I may free you: 1 may yivo yon by will all that 1 have; but that you were born in bondage and lived thus, in law, can never l>e de nied. And I tell you this, I, your fa ther, for whose grievous sin you are punished, as it is written in the Scrip tures." She understood the shocking truth at last. a low cry she sank down, her arms thrown across an ottoman, her face hidden upon them. I was instantly by her side. "Look up, Coralie!" I cried. "Noth ing shall separate us; be of good cheer." She raised her eyes; hope faintly bhone in them. "You will despise me, Dorr." "For what? I have heard nothing that can change my purpose or weaken my love." "But the people who have known me—" "They shall know you now as my honored wife. If there is anything for you to live down, let me help you do It." She rose, reassured, smiling through her tears. She took my hand and led me to her father's chair. "You hear what he has just said," were her words. "lie loves me, spite of everything. I have nothing to give; because—l am your slave. It-is for you to say. May I love fifm?" \ The archness, the mock humility with which slio turned from the dis tress and reproach in which her fa ther's words had left her, to this serio comic aspect of the situation, are not to be described. Mr. Bostock was com pletely won. He rose from his chair, he clasped us both in one embrace, tears wet his furrowed face. "At last," he said, with a sigh of in finite relief, "that dreadful burden is rolled from my soul. To keep that secret I have shed blood, I have spent abundant gold, I have become prema turely aged, and suffered in inind as men rarely suffer. Let mo right the wrong that I did this dear child, so far as I can, when my passions gave her life; let me make my peace with an offended God, if that be possible; let me see you two happy together—and then let me depart. C'orry, forgive your erring, miserable father. I have sinned, as other men sin; but I have suffered as they have not." She answered him with a kiss. "In the morning," he continued, "Le Fevre shall ride over to Thibodeaux, and bring Mr. Coteau, the lawyer. The ilecd that I have never dared to do, be cause then the people would know your story, Corry I v/ill cxeaute. I will de clare your manumission, in writing, signed, sealed and acknowledged; it bhall be placed among the public rec ords—and then, child, you will be as free in law as you over have been in fact. In the nexfr hour my will shall be made. Everything shall las yours." We sat upon the ottomans at his feet—we two—and in the seclusion of that room we heard from his lips the story of his errors aud sufferings. The overseer rapped at the door, and called out that he must see Mr. Bostock, but was answered that he could not be dis turbed. The servant who came to call us to the table was sent away. Tho hour was given to the past. We listened attentively, Coralie and I, for we were both concerned in tho strange story, and I especially was eager to hear the things explained 1 hat had puzzled me; yet, ever and anon, as I returned the pressure of the hand, my heart bounded exultingly forward. The past was no more a terror; the fu ture was secure. Cpon none could tho fair September sun rise so lirlglitly to morrow as 11 [Kin us two, the darlings of fate! So I thought, as I sat there, clasping her hand and listening to Mr. Bostock'# confession. CHAPTER XVII. lIKICAKINU 'IIIB HKAIJI I must go back (said Mr. Bostock) to the time of my marriage. The lady was a belle of New Orleans beautiful, but not wealthy. I was then, though a young man, the richest planter of the La Fourche. I had a rival. Napo leon Castex? who was settled in Cuba, but who often came over to enjoy tho social festivities of the mild winter# In New Orleans. Our rivalry was close and sharp. I was successful, and gained the man's lasting hatred incon sequence. Why is it that men and women will deliberately marry, when they are by nature, habit and education, utterly unfitted to mate together? Such things always have been and always will be. Less than three months of wedded life showed us that we were utterly uncon genial. But we lived on together, mak ing the best of it, and enduring our irksome bonds. Wo had but one child, Conrad. I will speak <>f him later. I desire now to say that, so far as I have been able to see, he resembled neither of his par ents In anything. He was bad, reck less and profligate, from an age when boys usually have no knowledge of tho world. I have somewhere read that hereditary vices, as will 11s diseases, will sometimes skip several gem-ra tions, and appear in a child of parents not given to evil. It must be so; the accumulated sins of many ancestors must have been inwrought In that. boy. I attended one day at the New Or leans slave-mart an auction of the peo ple of a Cuban plantation, who had been sent there to obtain better price -1 learned upon inquiry that their owner was < astex, who had become ru ined by unfortunate speculation. A lit tle orphan, thirteen years old, appar ently as white as myself, attracted my notice. I became her owner and took her home as u house-servant. She was called Louise Itunfant. Time passed; the coldness between my wife and myself Increased. Let mo not try to apportion the blame; per haps there was none. Our mistake was when we mutually promised to love, honor and cherish. But she was better than I; she at least tried to keep her vows. Cherish ing no affection for her 1 became care less of those vows. The pretty nlavc girl grew up; she was petted and edu cated; she usurped tin phe of Kmille. For awhile the latter bore it, silent and indignant. At length her outraged "It in better that we part quietly and without neandal," olic said. "1 lj" nyay lit jhMioUng. Malm. j a suitable provision for mo and ! will take tlii- i y and join my people, who ' no t i Paris. Tell what story you pleas*- about my absence; it will not Im contradicted." I was glad enough to malce this- ar rangement. She went abroad and died there a few years after. Her parting" words still ring ia my ears. '•I leave you in sorrow, not in an ger." she said. "The holy church, of which I am a child, has taught me that there is nothing more sacred in Heaven or earth than the marital vows. Von have broken iliem: you are laying up wrath for yourself in daystocome. An offended God will surely call you to account, nnd you will remember my words." Often have I remembered them. Eniilie hhs been exquisitely avenged! Conrad accompanied her to New Or leans, but before the packet sailed lie returned home. I received him with surprise and displeasure, for I had felt immeasurably relieved when F.milie proposed that he should live with her. "I've thought the thing all over, governor," said this boy of fifteen, "and I concluded to come back. You see I've nothing- to do with the old woman's quarrels; and as you've got the money, and I'm getting on where I shall want lots of it, I reckon I'll stick to you." Within one week from the departure of my wife —on were bom, Corry, your mother dying in the same hour. The love that Fmilic should have was given to your poor mother, child. I was nearly distracted at her loss. In my frenzy it seemed to me the first ful fillment of Emilie's prediction. Soon my affections and hopes were transferred to Louise's child. Then the crushing thought came that this child was a slave, born of a slave mother, aud that to manumit her would be to publish the fact to the world. I could not bear the alternative. To save it, I resolved on a 'course which good judgment should have warned me against. I would break up my home here, lease the plantation, go four hundred miles up the river, and, in a locality where no stories would be likely to come from La Fourche, I would briag up this child of my affec tion. No one there should know of the taint in her origin; no one should ever guesr. that she was born in bond age. This plan I put in exepution immedi ately. It promised to succeed. Un fortunately. I had not taken into ac count the precocity and wickedness of that boy. 116 instantly divined the truth, and began to hold the knowl edge of it over me like a rod. For five years he kept me in constant terror, not so much by his evil courses as by the constant threat of betraying my secret. The amount of money that I have paid him for his silence would represent a fortune. At last, in his twenty-first year, lie agreed to leave home and never return, and to keep his knowledge to himsolf. I was to pay him a large quarterly allowance, which has, in fact, been almost dou bled. I have relied on his love of money to keep him from betraying me; and my purse alone has closed his mouth. Where the great sums that I have given him have gone, the gam blers of the river can tell. I look back to the time between 18-IC, when I got rid of this unnatural son, and 1853, when the tragedy occurred which will be briefly noticed, as the happiest of my life. The disagreeable part was all behind me; conscience, as well as the fear of exposure, so tortur ing In these later years, did not trouble me; you were growing tip, C'orry, to bo just what I wished you; charming ac quaintances, valued friends were all about me; my success in growing cot ton was adding enormonsly to my wealth. All this was rudely troubled by the appearance of Napoleon Castex. 1 had heard littln of this man since my successful rivalry for tlio hand of Emilie male him my enemy. After my purchase of Louise I learned inci dentally that he hail once visited New Orleans, and it was told me that he made particular inquiries about me. There were none but unpleasant recol lections connected with him, and I hoped that I should never meet him again. Suddenly, twelve years after my re moval from La Fourche, he presented himself to me. 1 had 110 previous knowledge that he was in the neigh borhood, and tho sight of him discon certed mo. It was at a gentleman's dinner party at my own house, and he came with one of the guests, whom he was visiting. 1 knew that the man was revengeful and a good hater, aud I began to tremble for the consequences of such a visit. I conjectured that if he Ir.d not learned the true cause of Emilie's alienation from me, he would be likely to guess it if lie happened to see you, t .'orry; for you were then about tho age of your mother when he last saw her, and very closely resembled her. And what he should discover 1 knew that his hatred of me would prompt him to spread broadcast in the neighborhood. Before 1 could form any plan to check such a catastrophe, dinner was announced. Wo wore just seated, when you, Corry, came to the door and looked In, prompted, 1 suppose, by childish curiosity, f'astex saw you, recognized your face, and asked me in French If that was my daughter. I re plied that she was; and then The man is dead; I must soon follow him. I would like to speak to him now without bitterness or passion; yet I should not speak the whole truth if I did not say that his face was shining with savage joy as he gave me the brutal rejoinder in French that as sured me that his discovery would be published far and near. He said: "Ah, monsieur! Five or six years hence, when the charming daughter of Louise Bon fant shall como to the same auction block in New Orleans where you purchased tho mother, thou I think tho spirit of your wronged wife will feel avenged." 1 haw that he hail deliberately planned to force a quarrel on me. I It new that theis could be no safety for my nee ret while lie lived. A duel fol lowed, and I killed liliu. The wound that I received at the name tiiue from his hand laid me np for week*, and nearly brought me to the grave. My misery dates from that hour. it. in not u comfortable reflection to carry around with you nlt;lit and day that you have ttlain a fellow creature, though a bad one, and tin* thought lian troubled me; but much more torment ing than thin w»« the fear that Cantex had in home way left bin dl*covery to be revealed lifter hli» death. I grew Mihpiciou* of everybody; I abandoned old friend*; while they never nuspect ed tint reason, I was continually fear ful that the truth would be known aad luade public, Then the thought oc curred to me that all thin torment might be euded by returning to l,a 1 ourehe I came back to thin place as suddenly an J hud left it. We had been absent fifteen yearn, and there had been many chungcs; Coralie wan every where presented as my daughter, and I gave out that Bmillc. her mother, had died at my plantation far up the river. Thus, in fear and falsehood, have I preserved your good name, my child, and concealed the ntory of your birth. That concealment ban alwayn been at the mercy of accident*, and I have lived In the name ntateof torment since the duel I'erhap* It l» ull part of my punishment; fcmilie'n words were pro phet ic. Yon naw the agitation and the excitement into which the visit of that reprobate non threw me. lor the rake of both of thin falsehood ' all be told no longer. The truth K painful, it is humiliating: but that lies safety fur you. Thank God, the bur den i>- gone. at last! In the morning Mr. Coteau shall come ud wake the Writings. p.TO BE CONTUItO.] Konllnj the llarkmn. BllnV r. All this talk about hack n;cn overcharging it noawasr. I use hacks whene\ r I am out with my wifo uud the drivers n <- r try to get n cent more than the rojjitlar fare. Winker?- -How ilo you man ape? Blinkers— Wry -imply I merely re mark in a loud tone to my wife that I'm giad she's pot through her shop ping at last. After thchackman hears that he i:- thankful to pet out of me what 1 actually owe him. —N. Y. Weeklj. Why Slio StayeU. Mr. Gayboy (who is homely, to a pretty servant girl)—My wife talked rough to you. but you haven't given any notice i » quit. Tell me. candidly, Jennie, is it me that keeps you in this housd? Jennie—Yes, it is. Mr. Gavboy. This is the onlv house I ever was in where my sweetlaart wa n't joalous of the boss.—Texas Sittings. i*rofc«Alon»l Initiurt. Ilnsban.l (the father of six daugh ters'—Rosa. there i« a gentle man in the drawing-room who wants to marry one of our daughters. He is a wine merchant. Wife—A wine merchant? Heaven be praised! Then he will be sure to select one of t!.e older brands. —Le Nain Jaune. Nothing the .Mutter with It. Juvenile Customer (at restaurant) — Paw. this duck is spoiled. Paw —What is the price marked on the bill of fare for duck? "One dollar and fifty cents." "The duck is all right, t--son. Yon inusn't object to its gatrn-y Uavor."— Chicago Tribune. How Sad! He was a daring aeronaut. And liad a tine balloon. He put hi i wealth all In it. And hoped to 50 up soon. The day came—lt was missing. Ills grief none could rellere. His wlfo had gone and used It For the pattern of a sloeve. -N. V. Record#?. Xon-Interference. Robinson—My dear. I don't know why you should wnrn the cook so fre quently about lighting the tire with kerosene. Let her do as she pleases. Mrs. Robinson— Hut she may blow J herself Hp. Robinson—Exactly.—Brooklyn Life. lii thf Th!rtl Reader. Teachei —"For men must work and women must weep." What is the meaning of that line. Tommy Figg? Tommy—lt means that men has to work to get money and then the women has to cry ln-fore the men will divide with 'em.— Indianapolis Journal. Not 111* r»«it. "I've been riding on the elevated for five years, and I've never offered a lady a seat." "Then you've never had any man ners." "That isn't it. I've never yet had a seat." —Life. Hcperlor to Any t'oi>erri>«ninn. • Mr. Jonne. I never believed so much time could bo wasted in talk till I read the speeches of those congress men. Mr. Smith I'm you never con versed with Mrs. Smith, did you?— Ch icago Record. I nit ructions. Author—l have a great idea for a farce-comedy. Manager—All right; go ahead and write it. Only leave the idea out. — Judge. A Comforting Thought. Bragg (proudly) I am a self-made man! Van Riper—Tliank Heaven, then, there ain't any more like you!— Truth. A VEKY WAIsTFI'I. OIKL. for '4'n) 111 " A Wlekml Hon. Johnny (rushing in excitedly)— Mother, stick your head out of the window, quick! Mother What's the matter, Johnny —house on lire? Johnny- No; but I've bet Billy Jonea a nickel against a quarter that I've got the ugliest mother on the block. Stick yer head out of the winder, quick, so lie can see for himself.—'Texas Hlftings. Ami Now Stir hornn l Njwik to Vllm. "Oh, Mr. Lighthead," remarked Miss Oldgirl, with a simper, "I've just seen eighteen happy summers to-day." "Only eighteen happy ones!" replied lie, with pity in his tone, "what an un happy life you must have had!" IVriUtvnt "What did you say?'' asked Mr. Testy of his wife. "I didn't speak." "Well, what would you have said if you had spoken?" -Judge. A Hearer Article. "I'm willing to take a chance," said the young man in the betting ring. "I'crhap l ," suid the old-timer, "butl ; don't believe you'll find any around here."- Washington Star. Well.to-110 Philosophy. "Aren't you rich enough to keep • carriage and pair?" "Yes. That's why I'm satisfied witi a jioriv and cart."--' hieago Tribune. I.lke Mont. Wife—My husband Is the queerest man. Friend In what respect? Wife Why, before he married me I couldn't get him to leave the housf be fore twelve o'clock, and since I can't get him to come to it bef.-re tliiit time, i —Detroit Free I're >*. A 111 if llarpln. William Ann Von haven't got a cook here that, would weigh, say, two hnn dn-d pounds, have you? Intelligence Lady Mercy, no! Why must you have such a big one? William Ann My wife bought a forty-eight corset for eight cents, and she wants a cook she can give it to. — Fuck. Ami II" l-»n. "Rose," said the a<U>rcr, taking his hat and cane for the seventh time, and making the third bluff at leaving since eleven o'clock, "Rose, bid me but hope. I could wait for you forever." That's all very well. Mr. Slaylate," raid the beautiful girl, coldly, "hut t you needn't begin to-night."—Chicago itagurd. JSIO 53 UUNNING FOR PLANF «, ) A.tr.okl* Caught la Namtwra » t*s of Photography. One of the moat remarkable ct-ct astronomical development* U result of the application of afca» tography to the discovery of asterada or minor planets, says Prof. i. A.. Young, astronomer at Princeton col lege. :■? - ' By the old methods of search tike annual rate of discover}- ranged firuo one to twenty, the average for £ twenty years 187WM, being 10.2. In ISM twenty-nine were dlacovaaad, two only by the old method, while W tween January 1 and April It ef the pre cnt year twenty-five were pl*lq*&. up by the two observers. Wolf, lleidelderg, and Charlois, of Vlca, who have pressed the camera into service. The negatives are made with aa ex posure of from three to fire hours, each covering an area two or three de grees square. . , . . On the plate the imagea of tfcf atNa arc round and dear, while any plansf or planetoids which may be preMßtM at once recognized by the eloagalE* of their images due to their orMtat motion: and three or four of theae oV loug liphts are sometimes found om a single plate. 0 If the number of observers uafaaß this method should be much IncnuM the number of annual discoveries may easily mount into the hundred*. The total number of these little bodies which oirculate in the space be tween Mars and Jupiter stands at thrfe* hundred and seventy-five, so far aaacftr known, but it is almost oertala UM those still undiscovered must be cd by the thousand, and will soon be hopeless to attempt to keep the run of them all. We may reasonably suppoee that all the larger ones have been already dia» covered, and that those still remain ing unrecognized are all nfUamelj minute. It is true that from a certain defensi ble standpoint the atze of a planet hah nothing to do with Ita astroaomdhl importance mathematically ered a planetoid's orbit is W M worthy of investigation as that of Jupiter itself, but practically it- ia plain that the computers wilt hp obliged to select a limited Uphd which present special points of Inter est and confine their attention to them alone. MOST WONDERFUL Of PEARLS The "South*™ Crou," a Gem Wmm»4 ky a Flfhormaa la WeaUrn Autrtlk. Black pearls used to be held as of small value, comparatively speakfcM. They were first made fashionabfc bf the Empress Eugenie, wife of Napo leon 111., who possessed a **""T* necklace of them which fetched tm 11 lit J thousand dollars at auction after Kt overthrow of the imperial This did not include the sia|tc pearl forming the snap, which was pur chased by the marquis of Bath for lea thousand dollars. Mexlso, Tahiti and Fiji supply the markets of the werid with black pearls. The most extraor dinary pearl in the world, according to the New York Advertiser, ia known aa the "Southorn Cross. ' It is probably the most remarkable thing of It* klad that nature has ever produced. So far as is known it occupies an absolutely unique position in the history of pearls. It consists of a group of nine pearls naturally grown together In so regular a manner as to form an almost perfect Latin cross. Seven of them compoee the shaft, which meaaures an inch and a half in length, while the two arms of the cross are formed by one peart ea each side. All the pearls are of la* luster. This astonishing freak was discov ered bv a man named Clark, while pearl fishing in western Australia, la regarded it as a miracle, and, rintt* talning a superstitious dread of it. he buried it. In 1874 it was dug up eg*la and since then it has changed haal* many times. Its value is set at It* thousand dollars. How It came about that these pearls were grouped ta gether in such a manner no one ha* *• yet been able to explain satisfaetoetfp. It has been suggested that a frag meat of serrated seaweed may have get lata the shell of the oyster and thatfto succession of teeth Along the marftaw the front may have caused the depotd*', tion of nacre at regular intervale, epias to form a string of pearls in a straight line. The cross was found in the saul of the inollusk. just as it was talsSM from its native element, without Mur possibilty of its having been subjected to human manipulation. Boot* lllaokonad for Notkiaf. Free shines are to be had in e»CIJ largo city in the United H takes to-day, but to got one you must go to the shap where you bought your shoes. This idea of blackening the shoes of caa tomers for nothing was put in opera* tion live years ago by a firm of H*W England manufacturers who had twenty-two agencies in differeat pails of the country. A bootblack was hired at each one of these agenda*. At first the customer went in timidly aqd had his shoes blacked once after buying them. When he next bought aho*a%9 hud them blacked a dozen times, and row there are men who never thtnk of puylng for a shine. The scheme wa* copied by a number of manufacturers, so tliut It is not unusual to find half a dozen places on a single block Where blacking la done for nothing. In same of the larger shops as many as ffva men are kept busy at this work, bat It is noticed that they do not labor aa severely as bootblacks do who are Ilk business for tliemaelvea. One conesaft gives to each customer a card with ' numbers to be punched out. The card la good for fifty shines. I.on g lias Hhe Reigned. Queen Victoria has now paaaed the record of Henry 111., who ruled llljr slx years and twenty-nine daya, and has reigned longer than any English sovereign save George 111., who ruled from October 88, 1700, to January t», 182(1. « period of fifty-nine years and ninety-seven daya; and may aho live to equal that. Not Mark of m Foat. Bertie—Auntie, the car wa* M crowded I had to stand on one foot au the whole way from Harlem. Caddie—Why, that's nothing. Any goose can do that and never think of talking . about it.—Harper's Yooaf People. ought to reel Tire*. Madge—l don't believe Mr. Twaddles knows what it means to feel wt*ry. Florence—llow unjust! Madge Why? Florence -He has to listen to hie own conversation. —Chicago Inter Oo*aa. foor Tklnf. "Jones, your dog barbs so much at night that I haven't had a quiet a)a*p for a week." "Great Scott! Does he bark as as that? I'm afraid he Isn't walL**w. Chicago Record. Mummer llotrl Ajnoaltles* Hhe (suddenly pervading the pta«mJ —What, no one here! Where bav* aD the nice men vanished to? Ue (bitingly)-Where all tb« girls have vanished to.—Vogue. Tba Dictator. Her Adorer - May I marry yoqy daugh ter Her Father (dejectedly) 1 know. Ask the cook; sb* rum the house. —Brooklyn Life
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers