.. W ' ' : / THE BUTLER CITIZEN. VOL XXXI THE PHOENIX. Do you know why the PHOENIX bicycle is the most popular wheel in Pittsburg? Do you know why it won the Butler-Pittsbugh race, and the VVheeling-Pittsburg? Simply because bearing, chain, tire, frame—all the parts —are made of the best material. Because we build the lightest,easiest running wheel that is safe and reliable for the roads. We also make a specialty of an easy running and ligl't lady's wheel, which is equally popular. A guarantee is a good thing in its way. The PHOENIX guarantee cov ers every point, but the best point of all is the fact that repairs or claims for de fective parts constitute an exceedingly small per centage ol our cost of manu facture. For catalogue and other information © address, THE STOVER BICYCLE M'f'g. Co. FRSEPORTi op J. E. FORSYTHE, Agent. "BOTLiBa, PA. m DECLINE. There has been a decline in the price of materials from which buggies and other vehicles are made, therefore a decline in the price of vehicles. Come quick and see before it advances again. S. B MARTINCOURT & CO. BUTLER, - - - PA. FALL FOOTWEAR. Cast your ejfK in DpoL the fine die •*4 TVfiV Play of the newest and most elegant VwA styles in Footwear you have ever Iook "• 'J e( * U P OD ' D Butler that we are now of | \ fering to the public I T 1 *1 We ftre now prepared to serve all v buyers that want good, suitable Foot \|i|f '• i ■_ wear at prices never before offered iD 'his town, quality considered The people of Butler county know our | I* ~~ word acd guarantee is sufficient on any I —J" shoe we iffer, as time ba.i pr> ven. 1 1 - If you are looki.'ig for Ladies Shoes see our 75 acd 95c, $1.25 BDd $1.50; Mrp and l n ck at the $2, $2 50 and $3, M fine as eilk, in B'ucherette acd Button, Narrow and Square Toe, all width?. IF YOU WANT MENS SHOES You bare got to the right place at list, either in working shoes or fine drew shoes Fine lines at 85c, 90c, $1,51.25 and $1 50; wait a moment and see tbe $2 and $2.50 shoe in London, Globe, Yale and St Louis toes Nothing like them in Butler Well if you want SCHOOL SHOES for your BOYS AND GIRLS, see the great display at 45c. 50c, 75c, $1 and $1.25. Boy's and Youth's High Cot School Shoes. If you are looking for a housi that your d >llar is worth 100 cents to every man, woman and child If you are looking for a bouse that curries it* stock iu the bouse and not in tbe newspapers, in fact if you want to trqde with a reliable, first claaß Shoe House go at once to HUBE LTON'S. Where the majority of the best people of Butler couuty do there buy ing in footwear 102 N. Main St, Butler, Pa , opposite Hotel ' owry. Good LooKs Count. ) When you turn out for a drive you want your carriage to look as well as your neighbors. You'll have no fear on that score if you have a Fredonia Buggy. Fredonia Vehicles are the best on the market in every way. II you'll examine them at your dealers you'll agree with this statement. Made by FREDONIA MFG. CO., Youngstown, Ohio. IN MID-SUMMER \ T'IKE AS ADVKBTIHIJH; ■%. I "V >%, * STIJII LA.NT FOB BUSIHESH. \ THE CITIZEN SELLS IT. Sleepless Nights Make you weak an*! weary, unlit for work, to exertion. They show that : your nerve i- and that your ' nervous By>t*-tn nee<i.s building up. The HOOCI'S Sana parilla true rerae.lv is j | Hoo.l's Sarsaparilla. !Ull It purifies tin- Wool. strengthen the nerves "wwwww creates an appetite an i ivi~ sound, rofresh ! in;; sleep, (let llnoi's and only Hood's. I Hood's Pills - Hwrffli. 25c- _ ,f|jgs A-cidiisorikk .v is my is ~ .wPieitaßEslsr -I,; ML§gfiD-^& MA,\Y FINE PREMIUMS GIVEN FREE TO DRINKERS CF LION GQrFSE A Scientist claims the Root of Diseases to i>e in the Clolhes we Wear. I'he host Spring remedy for thetblues, etc., is to discard your uncomfortable old duds which irri tate the bodvr-leave your measure at ALAND'S for a new suit which will fit well, improve the appearance bv re lie vino- you instant o J ly of that tired feel in <r. and makino* you n 7 cp j cheerful and active. The cost of this sure cure is very moderate TRY IT. A Great Sale Now Going 011 at —-TH K NEW BHOE STORE.— | Large?* Stock, Lowest Prices and Best BOOTS, SHOES and R ÜBBERS Ever Shown in Butler County, Don't Spend One Penny for Footwear Before Calling on Me. 215 S. MAIN STREET, .BUTLER, PA. BOOKS FOR 25 CENTS! ALTEMUR El)., CLOTH AND SILVER. STANDARD WORKS. NEW ISSUES. EXAMINE THEM AT DOUGLASS'. Near Postoffice. HT T TLEH. PA., THURSDAY. 9KPTEM HER O, 18i)4. CHAPTER IIL M. De Restaud looked up from his cards as the chill gray of dawn stole in the window. "Ileavens!" he muttered, "what a night I've had!" He pushed the chips away, for he had been a heavy loser, an 1 staggered to his feet. lie flung the banker at the " OOOD-BV," SAID OI.IVEB. HOLDING OCT nis HAND. game a roll of bank notes and fumbled in his pockets for gold. The villainous faces of his four companions looked sallow and hideous after the long hours. Ilis own head was aching, his mouth dr} - and parched. lie leaned out the window, drinking in the fresh chill air as icy water. The room be hind him was foul with cigar-smoke and the smell of dregs of liquor in many glasses. "Go to bed," he said, weariedly; "you know your rooms. I've played enough, and you're all winners; you ought to be content." One man muttered about giving him a chance, but De Restaud shook his head impatiently, and they all went away. "I was ugly to the little girl last night," De Restaud said, half aloud. "What did I do? Odd I can't remem ber. I wish she would keep away from me when I'm not myself. She has no more sense about some thing's than a child. I'll go see her." He tried her door; no sound, not even the angry bark of her inseparable com panion. "I wonder if I killed the dog when I kicked it. Wish I had; but she'd never forgive me. She riding down the road to see that fellow—thinks of him all the time. I know in my heart she's as innocent as a child about it, just out of school when I married her, but he will think she's like other women and take her nonsense in earnest. A man of the world, evidently. He had better keep out of my way. Those boorish Americans —he has a fist like a black smith." ne went muttering down the cor ridor to his own room, and flung him self, still dressed, on his bed. The house was silent for hours. Annette in the L,went.softly about her work, monsieur was so dreadful if awakened. Louis currying the horses in the corral scarce spoke above a whisper, but tac iturnity had become a habit with him. The poultry, however, clucked merrily in the back yard; the gobbler gave his views, and the hens, women-like, cack led about it. while the ducks enjoyed the bonanza of deep mud and pools after the rain. The cows, loath to go upon the hills, huddled near the barns. Annette, round-faced, beady-eyed, neat as a pin, stood in the door, her hands on her hips. She looked with pride on her fowls—how well the plum;)darlings repaid her care —then she glanced across at her husband, ten years her junior—the beautiful man who had spent her dowry and told her so charm ingly he married her for that money, and who had brought her to this wild country. She smiled to herself in sat isfaction; in this wilderness no girl could take him away. Those Paris girls were such wretches, brazen things. The ranchers' daughters here, however, were well behaved; no matter what eyes Louis made, they would have none of him. The young girls of the mountains were brave and good. How they must suffer, though! for Louis was so fascinating. "Louis," she called, softly, stepping out on the plank walk, "madame is not yet awake, nor the little dog. It is a strange silence for them who are usually out so early. You climb up on the roof of the corral and look in her window. She never would open her door to us." The man hurriedly obeyed. He had been thinking all the morning some thing was wrong. If she were dead— monsieur was wilder than common last night, and so hasty; he had been gambling and losing all day. The dog must be dead; he hated Louis, and generally made his appearance at the window early to bark at him. Louis climbed up one of the posts of the roof, crossed and looked in the open window. Annette watched him, shading her eyes with her hand. "She is there. Louis?" He shock his head and dropped to the ground at her feet. "No; she is gone. The bed hasn't been slept in." "Heavens!" cried Annette, wringing her hands. "Monsieur will bo ter rible." "He ought to kill her, the little cat. You need not pity her; she makes game of you always because you can not comprehend her English tongue. I must wake monsieur." Followed by Annette, who prayed in a whisper, ho knocked at monsieur's door. No answer. Then he went in and shook the sleeper gently. "Monsieur," he said, tremulously, as De Restaud sat up dazed and haggard eyed, "I hate to tell you, but I must; madame is gone." "Liar!" cried the other, leaping to his feet. "She would not dare. Get my coat. Gone! Where? Who would take her in? Ah, I know. I was not far wrong all the time. It is madden ing. Break in her door, Louis; I have no strength." The man burst the door open with one powerful thrust, and they en tered. The pillow was tumbled, an impress of a head, and there was a crumpled handkerchief, still damp from tears. A little round depression at tho foot of the bed showed where the dog l»ad lain. De Restaud looked in her wardrobe. He knew she wore that yellow silk; she persisted in that since the stranger had been there. ' Her very small shoes were all in a row —an untidy one at that. She had worn her little bronze slippers. And here, Annette vouched for this, were all her hats and wraps. She had no money, he was sure of that. Did not Hannah Patten tell him she had re fused to give Minny money, for fear the child might run away and get into trouble? He hated Hannah Patten, but he knew her to be honest. There was one man who would dars aid I eyes ana contemptuous glance, it was all the sense Minny had, to go to this entire stranger for help; and he would help her: was she not young and pretty j and a fool? De Restaud was very : white now, and oddly cool. He went to his room for his pistols. His friends, awakened by Louis, were looking at the loading of theirs. Annette had hurriedly prepared coffee which the men drank standing up. Louis brought the horses around. "Shall I come, monsieur?" he asked, eagerly. "No; you would be needed if I did not return. You will tell the general. If my suspicions are true, I shall kill that man or be killed myself. But I . will be sure; and all of you wait until ! I tell you to act. I intend to ma.e no mistakes." The live men galloped down the road in a haze of golden dust. It was eleven o'clock, and Mme. de Restaud had been gone as many hours. She had a long start on her way, and they might ride far and fast to find her. Dr. John, in his flowered dressing-gown, but without his embroidered cap, which had mysteriously disappeared, sat be fore the closed door of the log cabin. He was smoking peacefully, and seemed to regard the five strangely acting men in the road as a pleasing part of the landscape. De Restaud, leaving his companions some little dis tance away, rode close to the cabin. "Mr. Oliver is, of course, within?" he said, politely. The doctor looked up at the pallid face with its blazing eyes, the work ing lips, the clinched hand, the fright ful controlled passion of the man. and answered, calmly, withdrawing his pipe: "Of course." "He is alone?" "I think so. His man is cleaning the guns back of the house." "Mr. Oliver he sleep very late," hissed the Frenchman, forgetting his English in his wrath and muttering something in his own language. "He do," said the doctor, ungram matically, with a twinkle in his eye. "I must ask you, sir, to wake your friend. I have business with him." "And I must answer, sir, I am very sorry, but I know his temper, and I do not care to wake my friend. He is not, as your nation say, tres aimable when awakened from slumber." "I do not come here to quarrel with you," cried the Frenchman, "but with nlra." "It would require two to quarrel, Mr. de Restaud, and I am a peaceable man. Therefore I may say Ido not wake Mr. Oliver for business." "It is my belief, old man, you are lying. Oliver is not in your house." "It is his house; let us at least be correct. Suppose you question his man; he may be willing to wake Mr. Oliver. Or you may settle your busi ness with him. Mike, Mike, I say." As tho big fellow came around the house, grinning sheepishly, the doctor picked up his book. "Here, or, as your nation say, voici le hired man. He is yours, monsieur. With your pardon, I will resume my chapter." He received no answer. De Restaud, seeing Mike had a fine rifle in his " I MUST ASK YOU, 818, TO WAKE YOUB FRIEND." hand, went back to the waiting men, and they had a conference which ended in all riding closer to the house. "Go tell your master M. de Restaud desires to see him." said De Restaud, angrily. "I will endure no impudence. Do as I tell you." "I'm sorry, sor," said Mike, humbly, " 'deed I am. fur I'd loike to oblige yees, but him an' me set up till late last night waitin' fur the doctor, who'd gone doctorin', an' I was ordered to lit Misther Oliver have his slape. The doctor's the only wan as iver I see as could go widout slape an' appear the fresher fur it." "Don't lie to me. Stand away. I'll ' find out if he's in the house. We'll break In the door and search it." "He might think yon robbers and shoot," said the doctor, calmly. "Be sides, you are not treating him fairly. Why do you wish to search the house?" "Because," cried De Restaud, hoarse ly, "my wife is gone, and he is the only one who would dare to help her in this country." "Your pardon, monsieur. Of course you are naturally upset, but Mr. Oliver has only met the lady once; is it not making a story out of nothing?" "I know her," hissed De Restaud, "and. if he is your friend, he is a blackguard; he is. as I know, the only one about here who would offer to aid her." "Not the only one," said the little doctor, rising. "I should have been very glad to have helped the young lady escape from your care; any true man would have been. You are rating the settlers here very low, monsieur. Unfortunately, all we hear of you does not point to your making either a happy or a safe home for a good woman. Put up your revolver; lam not at all afraid; the ranchmen here are friendly to me. Now, if you desire, dismount, and I myself will show you through the house." "Humph! you've changed all of a sudden," grunted one of the men. "I have always held," said the doc tor, pleasantly, "that a man who could not change an opinion was a bigot. Obstinacy is often ignorance. Your errand being such a serious one has quite convinced me that it is not only right but my duty to wake Mr. Oliver." In his heart the doctor was thinking "That certainly was Craig 1 heard in the house; he has got back, and must have heard what I said. His window is open." "I shall wake Mr. Oliver, then," he said, loudly, as they dismounted and went into the house, 'but I shall not be responsible for his profanity. Craig, open your door, please." The doctor rapped, but his heart stood still. If Oliver should not be there! The bolt shot back, and the man, half dressed, with bloodshot eyes, disor dered hair, and a dazed sort of man- ner, appeared in the doorway "What in is all the row?" he said, angrily. "Yon mii<t keep me up all night anti wake me in an un earthly hour in the morning'. What do they want?" "Mr. de Restaud's wife is missing. They desire to search your house. Here, gentlemen, is a camp-bed, a trunk and one ehair. The lady is not here. Shall we keep on?" Craig lay back on the bed and drew his traveling-rug' over him. "They have my permission." he said, sleepily. "There's a cellar underneath, and one small barn. Look well under the bay. So your wife has gone, Mr. De Restaud? Perhaps her only rela tive has had feeling enough to save the poor little thing and has taken her from your guardianship. 1 fancy you would not care to have that looked into too closely; and if I were you, speaking now as a lawyer, I would not advertise this affair too widely. Your wife might, you know, be persuaded to come back." The doctor, fearing the consequenc es, shut the door hastily and led his visitors away. They searched the premises closely, but, not knowing of the buckboard, did not miss it, and the Mexican's good little beast, a lather of foam, was hidden in a grove of pines a quarter of a mile away. Shortly after his guests had mounted their horses in sulky silenee und pal loped away, Oliver, newly shaven and carefully dressed, came out in the sun light. He was ghastly pale, and stag gered as he walked. "I've had Mike make me some cof fee," he said, sinking in a chair. "Gad, I'm played out. 1 wasn't five hours coming back; and I'm a heavy man for the horse. I'd like to own him. I can't sleep; too tired, I suppose. Re sides, I was a little worried. Where is our friend?" "Gone," said the doctor, laconically. "And now, Craig, as questions ure in order, where is the Troublesome lady?" "On her way to Maine, 1 hope." "If you are not honest in the matter that man will kill you." "I have lived long enough on the frontier, doc, to know that threatened men live long—are safe. I did help Mrs. de Restaud escape; you'd have done the same. She came with great purple marks on her throat, in a pite ous state of terror. She is as innocent as a child, utterly ignorant of the world. Only such a woman would have stayed here so long. Any ranchman here with daughters of his own would have helped her. They know what he is, and they are chivalrous men. She came to me because—because—" "Craig, it's the old story. I don't doubt you're in the right this time— I'd have helped her too—but you had to say sweet things and make love to her. You needn't shake your head; you can't help it." "On my honor. Dr. John, all that long way I thought of her as of my own little sister sleeping in the old graveyard of the village I left twenty years ago. The man who remembers a child sister would have thought only of her, of the purest things, with little Minny. She has your embroidered cap, old chap, and you will treasure it as a relic of lovely woman if ever she re turns the loan." "Rut you're not a married man, Craig," said the doctor, plaintively, "and women can be aggravating, es pecially little ones with red hair, as Mike says she's got. There must be something on the Frenchman's side." "Lunacy. There is my coffee at last. We'll go for elk to-morrow instead of to-day; I hear there are some on Sisty's peak." "But, Craig," said the doctor, as tho other stretched out his tall length and walked wearily to the house, "there's the Mexican who will bring 1 back your team and whose horse you had; he might tell." "I have bought him at a good price," said Oliver, carelessly. "Still, if he does tell, if the Frenchman pays more, why then the Frenchman and I will settle it. If one is put to sleep to-day or a half century hence, what matters it? I like life, but lam not shirking death." CHAPTER IV. "If I ever become poor and friend less, and should be walking along the streets of a city about six o'clock at night and the smell of fried onions were wafted towards me, I should be come a criminal. I would steal," said Doctor John, firmly, "so that I also might have them." "Rather a lowly taste," said Oliver, lazily. They had been to the top of Sisty's peak for elk all that day, but found no sign of one, only a young antelope, the chops of which, with the fried onions, Mike was cooking for supper. The doctor, radiant in his flowered dressing gown, but, alas! minus his beautifully-embroidered cap, stirred the tobacco in his pipe and leaned com fortably back in his chair. "Don't scorn onions, Craig. I know you better. Here in this desolate re gion, miles away from womenkind, you positively revel in 'em." "Womenkind?" Oliver asked, vague ly. "The vegetable, fortunately. Your thirst for tobacco, your senseless haste to return to Denver, your rest lessness, are bad signs. Eve entered our paradise, and back we go to civili zation to-morrow, because we expect a letter from her. I shall prescribe for your case a dose of moral reflections, "THEV HAVE MY PERMISSION," HE BAII>, SLEEPILY. with references to celebrated cases of the sort I have heard you discuss with disgust." "How far imagination will carry a man—almost to idiocy," murmured Oliver. "The question," continued the doc tor, plaintively, as if he had not heard, "is, what are you going to do? You meant well; I should no doubt have assisted the Troublesome lady not driving so far or so fast, perhaps. But your honest Mexican accomplice rode his 'gooda beasta' to I'arkville last night, and he and the well-mannered Louis were amiably intoxicated to gether. Monsieur is probably well in formed of all that took place." "Which was little enough. I would have told him; but I had no desire to quarrel with him, or perhaps fight a ridiculous French duel over a young woman 1 had only seen twice, and both of us duelists possibly lauded in jail for breaking the peace by some sa gacious sheriff." "I would not go your bail, either, my friend," smiled Dr. John. "I would I like to see you shut up awhile; you've I sent enough to prison walls in your time If I don't mistake—pasoers are few this lonely way. upd his wv a ro*-. here c<>ni>-ii the ilixican •nd hi* *CH><I» IHK.IH.' H IS" I» noi.de-crqjt creature following, who I hope is not the Troublesome lady returning." "Your judgment in matters i<ertain ing to female kind is not accurate," suid Oliver, who had jumped up anx iously at the doctor's words "This is an elderly, gaunt and tall female, and she sits that mule a.-, gingerly as if he were liable to go cut from under her any moment. Do you know. I half be lieve that is Aunt Hannah." "Didn't know you had relatives," said the doctor, following Oliver to the road. "1 haven't. Mrs. Minny has; and if the old lady is seeking her, where is tho 3-oung lady, and what kind of a difficulty have I got myself into? She looks warlike enough." "I have brought ze-a lady from zc railroa," said the Mexican, obsequious ly. "She coin-a M. de Restaud. Flo sent-a here for madame." "So you told him ! had taken her to the train?" Oliver said, quickly, a dan gerous light in his gray eyes. "You were a fool. I shaU come here again V Tin: MEXICAN AND A NONDESCRIPT FOL LOWED. and I can pay more than the French man. I would even have bought that horse of yours at your most exorbitant price." "You haf not enough mon-nay for to buy my horse, senor. ne is one race horse. He haf win grand mon-nay for me. I leaf ze lady with you; my mule he tire, she yell all ze way and bump zeround." While ho spoke, the old lady, with more haste than elegance, slid to the ground, unfastened a carpetbag tied to the saddle, straightened her black al paca skirt, and delivered a five-dollar bill to her guide. "All you'll git," she said, in a high pitched nasal voice, "if you talk lingo forever. I ain't to home in a kentry where my native tongue is butchered as you do it, and that's all I'll pay you, if you talk balderdash all night." "Si, senora," gasped the Mexican. "Yis, I do see; and I've a mind to re port your insolence to the authorities, for thit 'see' is all I've got out of you tho whole way. And if we ain't leagued over unprofitable ineaders and everlasting hills this day, and barren wastes, to last me till I die. When I git back east I'll hate to look at the settin' sun for getting reminded of this journey an' Minny'a misfortunes here. Now, he being gone, misters," she said, abruptly, as Juan rode rapidly away, "that Warn, as he calls himself —which of you is the man that made the mischief in my nephew by mar riage's family?" It was rather an embarrassing ques tiou. The doctor politely requested that she sit down and rest, as she seemed much flurried, and they could talk more comfortably. After a sharp glance at him she confenUd, : .ttin/T carefv.lly in a ct - n _ij: . iai)tied and wrinkled, with strong features, a mass of untidy gray hair und handsome blue eyes with a sly twinkle in them as if she coiilH see a joke and make one, too. Somehow the barren life of New Eng land brings wit and pathos to the sur face; of the first, the dryest, quaint est sort, as of the other the saddest and most hopeless. Her ungloved hands were work-worn and large knuckled, hands of that pride of the village, a good housekeeper and one who has flowers in summer of her own tending. She pushed un unstable bon net she wore back on her head and looked at Oliver severely. As she seemed to know, he said, ab jectly: "I helped Mrs. de Restaud get to the railroad." "I didn't need no telling," she an swered, promptly. "I'm clean beat out. I never rode on an animal before of any sort or kind. I've got real rheu matic pains in my back and shoulders. It is hard for a woman at my age to have to gallivate over an onsettled country hunting a connection." "Here are some cushions," said Dr. John, coming out, his arms full. "Those Chairs arc uncomfortable. Now, isn't that better?" "Yis. I suppose I'll eat my meals off the mantel piece for a week. Now, you being old and settled like, why couldn't you have helped Minny?" "Because I was not here. Object to smoking?" "No, land sakes, no; keep the skeet ers off, if they be any that kin git a living up here." "Now, this is cozy," continued the doctor, lighting his pipe. Oliver sat down near them. "You see, 1 was called off to a sick woman, and 6ho died —poor soul." "Of what?" asked the newcomer, eagerly, all curiosity. "I should say homesickness if I told the truth, but I called It mountain fever. Well, she was dying, you know, and here, as Craig is sitting alone over the Are, comes a little lady in a yellow silk gown (Mike told me, Craig; you needn't think you've been talking in your sleep). On her white neck are big ugly bruises, welts from a whip are on her arms, and the little dog she brings with her has been brutally kicked. She throws herself at Craig's feet, and begs hiai to save her—" "You don't never tell me that evil little foreigner dared strike Mlnnj- Pat ten!" cried the old lady. "Oh, I'd llko to git my hands on him! Allhermoth- er's fault—always taking up with strangers." "Any man would have helped her," said Oliver; then he went on and told what he did, and how he left her safe ly at the train; ho omitted her eccen tric farewell—possibly because he had forgotten it. "Tho poor little bird," sobbed the old woman, "my dead brother's child; and what a man he was! —marstcr of a ship at nineteen; and here's his Minny ; ho idolized living in nowheres-land I with a crazy Frenchman. I put up | with him for months when I visited ! here, for her sake; but one day—the Pattens Is all quick, on my mother's side I'm a Knox, and hist'ry tells what he was—and I slapped Henry right in the face like he'd been a young one. He set me out the door, and liis man j hove my trunk after rue. Back I had to ride iu a sprlnglcss wagon, and, git ting home, found things going to rack and ruin with the shiftless folks I left taking care of my house. I did adviso j Minny to stay, though, Mr. Oliver," she said, looking at him with her hon est, kindly gaze. "I'm an old-fash ioned woman, so I lowed it was her duty; she'd made her bed and had to lie on it. You can't never tell mo a girl is made to git married in this ken try, whatever it may be in France, an' | Minny is awful frivolous. I hain't no Liking {of men that svmpathUya wjtlj young wives \vn»*n iney air young an pretty." "I should have dragged her hack, to bo killed the next time." Craig said, coldly. She rose and held out her hard, wrinkled hand. "I think you done noble by her. Mr. Oliver: and though by your looks you seem to be one of them city bachelors that ain't no pood moral characters, I know her own dead father couldn't have done kinder by her. How you rid them miles in that time I can't see, 1 for that Warn an' rae set out afore sun up an' grot to the Frenchman's Jest turned five o'clock. Xow, how much money did you give Minny to frivol ; away?" She took out an old leather wallet ; and befran unwinding- a strap that held it tight. "I have no account. Wait until you j hear from her." "I am well-to-do. and Minny's all I've ' 2ot to leave my property to; so that j needn't worry you; and I don't like I her being- under obligations to strange j rfTen. How much did you loan her?" '■ Oliver looked confused. "I—l don't , know; there might have been three hundred dollars in the roll—perhaps more." "What!" almost screamed Aunt Han nah. ''Heavens to Betsy! you and me won't never set eyes on Minny Patten till every cent of that money isjone. She aorrx tmoTv the nunc on'l. She ~~ never had none of her own to spend afore." "I think she will use It to good ad vantage," smiled Oliver. "Besides, it is better she has plenty, as she seems to have missed you. How did that happen?" "I've been away si* weeks, visiting connections by marriage in lowa, an' I was coming here to see how she wv 1 treated, for she ain't writ to me for 'most two months, an' he's mean enough to keep her from it. Ifone of the 1 neighbors knowed where I'd went, on ' account of their curiosity; I told 'em mebbe Florldy. an' boarded up tho lower winders in my house." i "Well, the neighbors will take care of her," said the doctor, cheerily. "Here is Mike; so, Miss—" "Patten—Hannah Patten." "There is nothing for you to do but to accept our hospitality—city bach elors live well, you know—and to-mor row go down to Denver with us. Mr. Oliver probably has a letter from Mrs. Minny at his office waiting for him, as she promised to let him know If she got home safely." "I believe I will, and thank yon," said Miss Patten, beginning- to smooth down her hair. "The smell of them fried onions struck me all in a heap, for 1 ain't eat since breakfast, my niece's husband not even offering me "OH, I'D LIKE TO GET MY HA2CDB OS lUMt" a chair to set on, let alone something to eat, and I've got a feeling of gone ness that reminds me of one of Cap'n Sam's sea stories—Minny's father, yon know—where a shipwrecked crew ate their boots and chewed sticks to keep 'em alive." "You see," smiled Dr. John, "I was right about our humble vegetable. It appeals to every heart." "And stomach," said Miss Patten, walking majestically to the house. "It mayn't be proper for me to stop t here, but I guess our age protects us." I "Why, certainly," said Dr. John, - meekly. "It's in the very air out here ; to do erratic things, but the neighbors » In your town shall never know, I swear 1 It." |TO BE CONTINUED.] Insurance Item. I "I wonder if I couldn't collect at least half of the insurance on my wife," remarked Col. Percy Yerger to his friend, Maj. Witherspoon, as they f were sipping their mint juleps in an Austin saloon. "Why, is your wife dead, then?" ) asked the friend. j "Well, not exactly. But every night when I come home late she says she is half dead with fright and anxiety. It > seems to me that in law and equity I t could collect half the insurance money."—Alex Sweet, in Texas Sift- C lug"- } Rome Preparations. 5 Wife—Considering how long I've been 'away, I think you might have 5 made some preparations to receive me. Husband—You do me injustice, my ' dear. I have had the library and par -1 lor thoroughly cleaned and aired. Servant (Interrupting)— Please, sir, " the man has come with a wagon for ' them empty bottles.—N. Y. Weekly. To Be Congratulated. Castleton —In a bentlmental mood I proposed to Miss Griggson Ust night, and she accepted me. J Clubberly—Great Scott! I did the 1 (same tiling night before last, and she f rejected me. Castleton —Congratulations, old man! r —N. Y. Herald. ller Definition. 1 He oßkod the miss what was a kiss, J Grammatically defined; ! " It's a conjunction, sir." she said, > '• And hence can't bo declined." * —lndianapolis Journal. 3 A POLICE COIRT. > Life. I I A Hopeless Lunatic. | "The gentleman you see pacing up i ' and down yonder as if he were mental [ ly deranged is Schmidt, the famous ac . countant." t "What is the matter with him?" t "He was trying yesterday to unravel i the complications of his wife's house ' keeping book-" —Handelszeitung. A Feminine Trick. Wife (relating an experience)— And just as I got opposite Sloiln's I stopped 1 ; the car to get off— ' Husband (interrupting, sneeringly)— That's just like a woman. >Yifc —What is? atop a car to gtt off.— No. 35 LOW-HEADED TREES. A Fro It-Grower T«U« Why H« »" • I'refrren™ for Thun. Should trees be made to head high or low, is a question quite frequently discussed by fruit-growers. Opinions differ. All the arguments in favor of high-headed trees to which I have ever listened, however, have not been able to cure me of a decided prefer ence for low heads. When good peaches and plums, etc., will grow just as well within easy reach from the ground, why shonld we spena energy and efforts in handling ladders and climbing around, etc., and at the same time compel the tree to produce a lot of unnecessary wood? The form which we aim to give to our young orchard trees is shown in Fig. 1 in il lustration. With proper trimming at planting time and the judiciously rub* no. l. rio. 2. bing off superfluous sprouts during the early part of the first 6eason, the tree may be depended upon to give you just •bout the desired shape, and will re quire little attention afterwards ex cept a slight annual heading in (cut ting back the ends of long branches) and the removal by rubbiug off, of in side sprouts where too close or in the way. Straggling growers, like Beat rice, Rivers and others, of the first early peaches, require somewhat se verer pruning; they are always liable to overbear, and to set loads of fruit way out to the very extremity of the limbs. Cutting off one-third or more of the new growth not only puts the fruit closer to the ground, but also' prevents the setting of an excessive crop. It Is a simple and excellent method of thinning. At first, naturally, the growth of the young tree appears to be quite upright In trying to shape it, 've must always' bear in mind the effect which bearing a heavy crop will have on the tree. The limbs will be bent down, and the tree, at first showing the form m illus trated in Fig. 1, will soon assume the shape shown in Fig. 2. When relieved of their load of fruit, the limbs will spring back, but not fully to their for mer position, and every following crop must naturally bring the limbs down closer to the ground. This tendenoy should not be ignored when we ar« trying to put a head on a young tree.— American Gardening. ORCHARD FERTILIZERS. Potash and Barnyard Manors tbm Dm* for Peach Tree*. The peach tree grows so easily and so luxuriantly, and over such a vast! extent of country, that few think of supply lug it with other nutriment than is found naturally in the soil. Without doubt this is sufUcient in many case*, particularly in the newer portions of the country. But every year of cropping in the usual way lessens the fertilizing- ingredients laid away in the earth in bygone centuries, and fruit trees, as well as corn, wheat, etc., suffer by its diminution. Indeed, fruit bearing, particularly bearing heavy crops of large fine fruit, makes one of the heaviest drafts, If not the heaviest of all, on the land. Among fertilizers one of the most Important for most crops—partic ularly for fruit trees—is potash In some form. This is easily applied in wood ashes, none of which, even if leached for soap making, should ever be wasted. It is very trying t<? see , ashes emptied out in the road or »y the side of a run as has been observed more than once. The ashes may b$ applied whenever convenient! hot around the trunk where they e*n a<J little good, but scattered ov4r the en tire surface as wide as the branches extend. Anyone who has tried tbift must have notioed the fine growth of the trees and the thrifty dark greefi of the leaves afterward. It Is not probable th«t übei wiU cure the yellows now becoming io common in some seotiona, though at one time there was considerable hop 6 in this direction. But prevention i| better than cure, and there is good reason to believe that a peach tree kept in vlgerous health will be able to resist the yellaws, just as perfect ' health In the human system prevents or throws oft many fofms of disease. 1 * Barnyard manure is also a good fer tilizer ,for peach trees as well as for 1 most other things dependent on the soil. But it should be remembered that ashes or anything containing potash must not be applied at the | same timo with barnyard manure, for the ammonia, one of the best In the latter, would be liberated bjr the potash and lost. Six months at least should intervene between the application of these two valuable fer tilizers—the best, probably, of all fer tilixing materials, considering every thing.—National Stockman. Impnre Water Kills Cattle. Tlio loss Qf stock from impure water Is greater than Is usually known. In many cases the animals do not di» but lose condition and do not make weight in a satisfactory manner. Where the drinking water has a green soum over it it is not fit for drinking purposes for any animal, and unless pure spring or creek water is In plentiful supplv it is good economy to put down wells and erect windmills. This may cost some thing to begin with, but will save mon ey in the end. Decadence of Dramatic CrltlcUm. First Nlghter—The man who wrltea the dramatlo criticisms for your paper does not know a good play from a bad one- Editor—l know It, but what can we do? He is the only man on the staff who Is tall enough to see over the bon nets.—N. Y. Weekly. IU Properties. She (nestling up to him)—l know we are poor, papa, but Charlie says that love will make a way. Her Father (grimly)— Yes, ves. It has made away with about eight tops of coal and fifty dollars' worth of gas in the last twelve months.—Truth. A Tremendous View. "We can see the statue of liberty from our house," 6aidthe Yonkers boy, proudly. "We can beat you there. We can see the moon from ours," retorted the boy from Boston.— Harper's Young People. A Satisfactory Answer. Mike—How fur Is it to Hoboken, aor"? Bill—Who do you want to see in Ho boken? Mike—Mesllf befoor noight, sor.— Judge. Perplexity. He stood gu the steps at midnight. With wlbbledy wobblcdy knee. And wondered and wondered and wondered Where the blamed keyhole could be. —Buffalo Courier.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers