.. 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.