Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, May 09, 1895, Image 1
V OLXXXII READ and REFLECT. A GRAND OPPORTUNITY—With the dawn of prosperity just le fore us and the improvement in business notwithstanding. We sometime ago decided to close out cur entire stock of Men's Bojs' and L tnldrenfe Clothing, which we will continue to do at prices that wiii be to the advan tage of all desiring to pur base clothing. No matter bow little or ow much money you have to invest, we know it will be hard on the Clothing business, but as we are determined to close out we cannot help it Uur stock is the largest in the county. Men's fine black worsted pants all wool only 12.00. W* have more panta than any two stores in town. uur children's suits are marvels of beauty; all the late novelties, sue i as t Regent, Euclid Neptnne Colnmbia.Reefers, Jerseys, Kilts *c. from 50cts up— Boys' Double and Single Breast Round and Square corner Plain or Plaited—All will be sold without reserve U"e will still continue to carry a full and complete line of Uats caps, Hhirts, Ties. Collars, Cuffs, Handkerchiefs, Underwear, Hosiery, Overalls, Jackets, Sweaters, Umbrellss. Trunks, Valines, Telescopes Hammocks Brushes. Combs, patches, Chains, Charms, Rings, Coller and Cuff ISut tons &c We still carry the "Semper k dem" Shirt, tbe best uulaundried shirt in the world oniy $1 00. Onr 75 cent shirt is equal to any *I.OO shirt on ibe market " Our line of Cheviott. Percalle and Madras shirts, full and complete. , , | We have fouLd that one man's m< : vy is better than two men s crecii , aid have adopted tfce cash plan atd fit.d that it works wonder. _ e . member that we are the old reliable, the pioneer ot good goods at low prices; that we have been bere a quarter of a century ..gainst all comers and goers, have stayed with vou and done you good It will pay you to come or miles as we can save you Money, no matter how low you are offered good, JY* have no baits to pull \be wool over your eyes. A fair, square deal i whi-t «e promise >nd are here to fulfil thai promise. D-A-HECK, 12IN. Main St., Butler, Pa. John Bickers 128 5. nain St. Branch Store 12 5 N - nain st, Our large pring stock is arriving daily, and among this stock will be found all the latest styles in Ladies and Gents high grade foot wear, at low prices. Our Stock of Men's hoes is laigt—Patent Leath ers'—Russetts, — Kangaroo's, —-Cordovans and fine Calf shoes in all the latest styles—Large stock of Men's Low Cut shoes. Our stock of Ladies and Misses shoes is full, comprising of the latest styles—Razor Toe, Pic cadilly—and narrow quare Toes, are the latest, and we have them in Black and Russett, In, Lace and Button; Also large assortment of La dies and Misses Oxfords—Opera Toe and Instrap Uppers. Ladies' Cloth Overgaiters — at reduced prices. Gilt-Ed ged hoe Dressing. Patent+LEATHER+ flfl TO IT i 4 ♦TAN* R ULM. The balance of our Winter stock to be closed out regardless of cost or value— Rubber Goods—Men's Rubber Boots—Boston Can dee or Woonsocket boots, at $2,00 per pair—Men's Oil Grain Box Toe shoes Double sole and tap, at $1,25 per pair—Men's every day shoes at 90c —Women's oil grain shoes in Lace or Button, at 90c — Misses shoes at 75c —Children's Dongola shoes, sizes 4 to S at 40c — Ladies Cloth and Brussel slippers, at 25c per pair. Full stock of Leather and Finding—Shooemak ers' supplies of all kinds.—Best Cordovan Razor straps, at 25c —Boots and shoes made toorder — Repairing neatly Done—Orders by mail will receive prompt and careful attention All goodssent by mail, we pay postage. When in need of anything in my line, Give me a call. JOHN BICKEL, S. Main Street, BUT E R, PA. ♦♦REMEMBER THIS.++ A lew words in parting. Go to If US ELTON'S for my Shoes; don't you gp any other place; I have tried them and his are the best, recollect v> hat I say. Full line Misses and Children's Tan Shoes, Fit for a King at prices in harmony with the times. You don't need a fat pocket book to deal here. Tan Shoes will be especially popular this Spring. New Shades and Shapes. Our Stock in Men's Hoys and Youths, excel anything ever shown in Butler. They are stylish and fine enough to suit, the most fastidious tastes. Prices on these 75c—90c —$1,00 —$1,25 —$1,50 —s2,oo —s2,so —and—s3.oo. —Don't fail to pay us a visit, we have rices way down and Quality way up. B. C, Huselton, -# 102 N. Main Street, THE QUESTION » often asked, What Paint shall we use? THE ANSWER If you are looking (or covering capacity, wearing qualities, general appearance, and your money's worth, you must buy THE SHERWIN-WILLIAMS OtNn Moll, Lookl But, Wears Longest, Host iccnomlcal, Full Htasvre. Our prices are for ' 'best goods" first, last and all the time. We are in the business to stay and •RUSHES, S. W. P. stays with us. COLONS IN OIL," HOUSE A COACH VARNISHES, J. C. iJfeDICK, 109 N. Main St. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. HUSELTON'S Spring Shoes Kasy, stylish and comfortable Footwear for Spring and Summer. Oar Ladies and Men's Tan and +Black Shoes, + Are such and extremely dressy. We are ready with an immense line in all colors, Russia Calf, Vici Kid and Kazor London; New Opera and French Toes. 1,00 1,50 2,00 2,50 3,00 More and better styles than any other showing in Butler. Nervous Prostration Could Not Sleep Had No Appetite Cured In Body and Mind by Hood's Sarsaparilla " I Buffered very much for a long time with nervous prostration. I had about given up all hopes of ever getting bet / * €r when Hood's 3 Sarsaparilla was ■fe recommended to mm v'W me ,n<l * believe it tli yj my duty to let rV 1 *7 other sufferera JRsoJ J know the benefit I /JL derived from it. I Could Not Bleep at night, waawith- IhZ out appetite, and Mr. J. Kdw. Riffle what little I did All«*h«cj. Pa. eat I was unable to keep on my stomach. After taking the first bottle of Hood's Sarsaparilla, which seemed to do me aome good, I tried a second and continued to feel better. I got up feeling Bright and Refreshed in the morning. I continued with the medicine and am cured, body and mind, can sleep well and feel better in every way. I gladly recommend Hood's Sarsa parilla to others." J. EDWARD RIFFLE, 151 Madison Ave., Allegheny, Pa. Hood's s «™- 1 Uv%wv parilla Be Sure f urCS to Oct Hood s I_i „ ,1» _ r\;n_ euro all liver ills, bilious- MOOCI S HillS neis, headache. 36c. C. X D. A business that keeps grow ing through a season ot de pression, such as the country has experienced, is an evi dence that people realize they save money by trading with us. We know, and always have known, the days of large profits are past. Without question we are giving more for the money than last year. Our stock is larger to select from than last year. CALL AND SEE US. Colbert & Dale. WALL" unnu PAPER. innnnun All grades from Brown Blanks up to the finest embossed Bronzes The better the paper the better the Bargain. Buy your good papers now and get them at wholesale prices. Window Shades in all the latest colors at DOUGLASS', Near P. O. w A P I, A L P E R. HEINEMAN & SON'S W . A P L A L P E R. -OUR LEADERS- In the Millinery Department for this season nre I .ace lira 1(1 llats at. .'!■? cents, regular .',oc quality and Black Leghorn Hats at a:>c that can't tie matched In quality at, same price In this city. We have a splendid assortment of HIGH-GRADE Millinery always In stock, both in Trimmed an<l Untrlmmed goods. Orders promptly tilled. M. F. & M. MARKS, 113 to 117 S Main 81. SPECULATION. In Wall Street successfully carried on with the aid of our Dully Market Letter and parnj.h lets on speculation. MAII.K'" I"I:EE Discretionary Accounts a Specialty. '.All In formation free. Hank references, WKINVA.N fi Co.. Stock and drain linker*. 4l| Hroadway, New York. BTTTLER, JPA.,THURSDAY. MAY 9, 1895. [Elm i' 4 (oPYRIOHT. 1693 BY ci.B.UPPIHCOTT COMPANY* / CHAPTER 1 vj-Jr XLY spirits ad- JuiGpSV 1 venturous to \ ,1 audacity made I settlements on Vpi 1 j the western bank of the >* Oconee river prior to the dis (if possess ion of r?ffisv-- the lndians - I ,m"'-■''ty.- Among these J was Pearce Am £ erson, who in v ■" one way and another acquired landed ami other property, and by the time when the town of Mil ledgeville was laid off and made the capital of the state was what in that period people called a rich man. When he became old he was induced by his elder son, Wiley, who had done re markably well in business and married quite beyond expectations, to leav< the big plantation on the river bottom to the management of an overseer an'' build or occupy a house not very far from his own on Clarke street. His wife, accustomed to be dragged whithersoever and made to do what ever he would, offered no useless re sistance, and, what time she lasted, managed as well as could have been expected. It troubled her a good deal to see how proud the father became of Wiley and his xvife compared with his shame for Cullen the younger and his wife. Not that she did not grow to love, and that very much, Wiley's wife, Julia, of the excellent and rather aristocratic family, the Marstons, of Putnam, whose deportment towards and whose words about his people were much less apologetic than her husband's. Hut something, nobody knew exactly what, caused the elder woman's health to decline after they moved into town. Some said it was just natural old age, which nobody in this world has jet been found able, in the long run, to cope with. Some said it was the breaking up too late in life of long-settled habits and vainly attempting to get into new. Vet others ventured the opinion that it was because from Cullen, who during childhood had seemed to be rather the favorite with his father, the latter had become estranged, owing to his mar riage with Hannah Enlow. Anyhow, when they had been in town about a year she fell into her iast sickness. They said that towards the last she talked to her husband with unwonted freedom about some things that were on her mind and got from him some promises which helped her to meet death without very much complaint. They put her in the very nicest town cc Hn, and both husband and son W iey were proud even to boasting of the spot in the cemetery chosen for hei grave. From a child Wiley had been a thoughtful person. At ten years of age, when Cullen was born, he reflect- •*» Vrir^' HHB TALKED TO IJRTt HUSBAND. Ed upon the uselessness, not to say in decency, certainly the injustice to him self, of another son coming to parents who had intermarried so late in life that they ought to have been satisfied with himself alone. He behaved to wards his brother as if the latter were a troublesome supernumerary who had come into the world only to get in his way and divide with him what thither to had been all his own. Cullen, dur ing his nonage, made many trials to win at least the forbearance of the brother whom unintentionally he had thus offended. As for Hannah Enlow, her uncommon beauty when a girl of fourteen had been a temptation even to Wiley; but her family being of small property and no pretensions lie was led by his ambition to a higher plane. Three years afterwards Cullen. without consulting with anybody as t« the consequences, married her. she be ing seventeen and he just turned of twenty. Not that ho had not a rival in Arthur Dabney, a steady young fel low who, notwithstanding her poverty, would have married her any day that she said the word. But Hannah de cided upon Cullen. People said she was bound to have an Amerson of some sort. Dabney, knowing that he had been outrun fairly, made no out ward complaining, and in time went to town, with intent, if possible, to be come a lawyer. People said again how rash some young men can be when they cannot pet the girl they want, as if there wasn't another in the whole world. Hut you must know that Han nah, poor as were her parents, was a beauty, like whom was not one in all that Oconee region. Her slight figure, her long yellow curly hair, her smooth neck and fair dimpled eheeks, her lov ing eyes and mouth—no, I am UK> far gone to describe fitly such things. Peo ple who read this story, if they care, must try to imagine what sort of a girl Hannah Enlow was. Some years back, Pearce Amerson, if only it had property to back it, would not have complained at such a match for either of his sons. He knew that the En lows were every inch as good as his people. Then he had been heard to say that Hannah was as nice a girl as could bo started on all sides both of the Oconee river and of Commissioner's creek. His wife even to her dying day said that Cullen had married well, and. except for Wiley, everything might have gone on satisfactorily. Ho let the affair go on without a single word from his mouth until the marriage took place. Then he said to his father that if he did not wish to witness any unpleasant family scenes he would keep Cullen, with what he called "that piece'' he hud taken up with, outside the pale of Milledgeville society; for as for himself he could not, and his wife should not, give countenance to any such connection. "Why, Wiley," appealed his father, "you didn't 'pear like to be opposed to Cullen a-marry in' of Hannah. I allays thought mighty well of her, except that the family Is poor." . "Kvea tlm.t, father, fcught to lmyj/ been taken into some consideration by Cullen, who, it seems to me, might do his part, as I've been doing, to lift up our family, instead of putting it down lower. But that isn't all, and not nigh all. Hannah Enlow is not the sort of girl for him to marry, in no way. I know Hannah Enlow, and he ought to too. I never said anything against it. because I saw it would do no good. Cullen never would take my advice. What I've got to say about it is to you. and you only. The only thing to do is for the family to make the best of it they can; but as for intercourse with me ami my wife, there's got to be mighty little of it." The old man, rude as he was, had a good deal of simple honesty and af fectionateness, t ! w~*d in his ex treme age had iriaieu to dwindle un der the influence of his elder son. Dur ing the seven years that Wiley had been living in town, to the small capi tal advanced by his father had accrued several thousands. Such rapid success led the old man to regard him with the greatest respect and pride, and, acting upon his counsel, he settled Cullen upon a small portion of a large tract which he owned ten miles from Milledgeville, on the road leading to Macon. CHAPTER IL Cullen and his wife had too much love for each other to be made very unhappy by such discrimination. He, tall, ruddy, robust, open-faced, was much handsomer than his brother, who, though of good size and figure, was of palish complexion and habitual ly wore a cheerless, suspecting face. The winsome girlishness of Hannah continued after her marriage. She had taken Cullen mainly because he had won her affections. Yet she was very sensible of the advantage of con nection with a moneyed family, and her heart, though not too eagerly, had been set upon living in town. It cut her painfully when she was made aware of Wiley's hostility and the in fluence exerted by it upon his father, and, without confiding it entirely to Cullen, she resolved to conciliate them, if such a thing could be done. Not artful by nature, she had will and per severance, and a moderate degree of reticence. Cullen's feeling was to act defiantly; but she persuaded him to accept without complaint the proffered farm. The mansion, a rather pretty story-and-a-half, newly painted, even to the chimneys, in white, was situ ated on an eminence in a grove of red oaks. The land, though containing the most rolling portions of the big tract from which it had been set off. was productive, and, with the work of half a dozen i.ot very likely negroes thrown in with it, Cullen, now indus trious and reasonably thrifty, made good crops, while Hannah, brought up in economical habits, contributed her full share to their decent, comfortable living. Wiley, in this as in others of his plans, rnoi-pd with the discretion that he had been studying all his life. He countenced visiting on a scale not too limited to cause very much talk among the neighbors. He seldom came out to the plantation beyond, which had been turned over to him by his father, without calling on the return and hav ing a brief chat with Cullen and Han nah, or with Hannah alone, when Cul len might be in one of his Melds; and the visitor would not hear to the pro posal to blow the horn for him. On such occasions Hannah more than made up for Cullen's coolness by her own cordiality. Whenever the father came there, she set a nice dinner, had his chair put exactly where and how he wanted it, and, when the meal was over, got out again her sewing, plied it with dexterity, and talked about domestic business with a heartinest that led him gradually to think that after all, Cullen, in spite of Wiley's talk, had done better, a good deal bet ter, than he had been fearing. One afternoon on Cullen's return from work earlier than usual, Hannah had just put off some of her nicest things with which she had adorned herself, and was resuming her usual working guise. "Hi, Hannah!" he asked, surprised, "what have you been so fixed up for? Trying to see how the new ribbons be come you? As if everything didn't look becoming when put on you!" "Brother has just gone, Cullen," she answered. "I saw him as he turned in from the road, and I thought I'd show him that I appreciated his visit. I was about to have the horn blown for you, but he said not, as he had just called by for a few minutes to see if all was well." "I wouldn't have done that, curtain," i he said, with no petulance, but in the | straightforward manner which he al- I ways practiced. "Cullen," she replied, a trifle flushed, "I know what I'm doing. I won't say, | although I have rather let you think I otherwise, that I have not been deeply | pained by your father's and your brother's treatment of you since our marriage, and 1 want to show them | that I wish, as your wife, to pay all ' the respect I owe them. My object Is to reconcile them to me, If it can be done. I wish you wouldn't hinder me, or look as if you found fault with me. In spite of your keeping so much re j serve, 1 think I have noticed that they are beginning to think a little some | thing of me." Tears were in her eyes. He drew her ! to his breast. "Why, my darling, I don't mean to I find fault with you. As for father, j mother says she hopes and believes he 1 is gradually getting to love you right ; much. It's all the work of brother. I Ho always has selfish purposes in ! everything he does, and nothing either f I or you could do will make him alter I them." "I know something of Brother Wiley. ! Mis object is to hurt you through me. Hut 1 don't see the use of fighting : him." "I'm not fighting him, my dear. I simply don't feci like being specially considerate to wan Is those from whom, against our natural rights, I and my wife get so scant consideration. You say you know something of Wiley. My poor child, your knowledge of him is small beside mine. I've been know ing him well ever since I was old enough to know anything about peo ple's feelings and motions. His iiand was against me on the day I was born, and it ha.-, been ever since. In my in fancy he was a tyrant over me; once, when I was about ten years old, and lie outraged me so that I nearly killed him with a stick, ami would have done so with my knife if he hadn't stopped, he told me ho wished 1 was dead. No, he doesn't particularly wish to hurt ; you. It is I whom he is after, and It j would have been the same whoever I might have married. ill admit that latterly he has appeared somewhat cordial, comparatively. Sister Julia triay h ror she's just one of the best women in this whole world." "Well," she said, languidly, "it's hard to feel one's self a —" aha stopped, smiled, kissed him, and said: "Let's talk of something else." At once they ran into their habitual cheerful chatting, in which were some low-spoken words about a hope and a prophecy very dear to them both. CHAPTER 111. In time Cullen had to admit that Hannah's policy seemed to have been wise and prudent. When her baby was born, the messenger who bore the news took with him the word that it was a boy and named Pearce Amerson. The grandmother's hope to be spared to see the sight was fulfilled, and when she had seen she blessed it and shortly afterwards set out alone on her last journey. Just before goingshe said to Cullen: "My dear, your father has promised me to do right by you. I've no doubt he'll keep his word." Indeed, thenceforth the change, which hitherto had been slow and gradual, quickened apace. The old man grew more and more fond of Cul len and Hannah, often had the latter and her child at his home for several days at a time, and sometimes stayed as long at Cullen's. As for the baby, it was plain to see that for the loss of his late companion he felt compen sated over and over by the coming of Pearce Amerson, Junior. Even Wiley, although he made no demonstration, such being, never in his line, yet ap peared to be content with the change. He did go so far as to offer some sort of congratulation to the parents at the birth. Cullen took it for what he thought it was worth, Hannah for a great deal more, and was very, very thankful. "Cullen, dear," she gently remon strated, "you didn't take Brother Wiley's congratulations very well, -eemed to me." "I took them as cordially as they were given." "Poor Sister Julia! I wish she could nave such happiness." "She don't want it, nor does he." "Cullen, aren't you ashamed of your self for talking so?" "Yes, rather," he answered, with a smile, "but it's because I know my "LET'S TALK OF SOMKTHLNG KLSIC." words are true. Sister Julia want# no child; Indeed, I suspect she's thankful for having none of a husband who has treated her as brother has." "Cullen, love, sometimes I think you don't do full justice to Brother Wiley, because he hasn't the affectionate na ture that you have. A man must make allowance for such (Mfferences. I think myself that he is colder to her than—than I could be satisfied to put up with; but that is his nature." "Yes, darling, that's his nature." Then he laughed loudly. "Well, they've both been respectful and kind to me, and I can't but wish they had a baby or something that would bring them closer together. Brother may not know it, but he's got for a wife one that's a saint, if I know what that means. It has always seemed to me a pity that they have never come to understand each other well enough." "You little innocent, the difficulty is they understand too well." "Cullen! Cullen!" she said, in half playful remonstrance. Then they turned from the theme to that which for both was one of unmixed felicity. The person just now referred to was worthy of their praise. The Marstons had been reduced considerably In the establishment theyonce kept, partly by injudicious management, mainly by debts which the head of the family as surety for some of his neighbors had been forced to meet. In this condition Julia, the plainest and not the young est of the Marston girls, was induced to take Wiley Amerson, who was well enough looking, tolerably mannered, known to have made considerable money in trade, and to have excellent expectations from the death of his fa ther, now well stricken in years. The inari-tagu had not been happy. The health of the wife, poor to begin with, was not helped by the life led with a man far more selfish and coarse than she had believed. She was thankful that she bore no children, much as she needed the comfort they often im part. Her husband got frcm the con nection what he had counted on, bet ter social position. With his own ac cumulations and the few thousands come witli her he built the nice two story mansion on Clarke street, and deported himself as well as he could learn how in the circle to which she had lifted him. He showed much pride in the adornments which she made about the house, and the trees and flowers planted by her in the front yard. Finding in time that she had been married t<> a man whom she could not respect and therefore could not love, the strength of her charac ter enabled her to endure his society, and to seem to ignore some low irregularities which he took not very much pains to hide from her. Dis gusted with his vulgar snobbishness and that which lie had injected into his father, she became fond of Cullen for his openness and hearty simplicity, and wished to live on entirely affec tionate terms with him and Hannah, but, yielding to her husband's in junctions, she observed the restraints which she saw were unavoidable, yet strove not to hide her wish that rela tions were different. She had been in the habit of making brief calls when on the way to or from the plantation beyond, and Hannah, as often as Cul len consented, had visited her in town. Only in one matter did she act con trary to his avowed wishes; that was the old gentleman's hostility to Han nah and his consequent threats to cut Cullen off from an equal share in his estate. More than once, joining with her mother-in-law, but employing greater plainness of speech, had she re monstrated with him, and there was no doubt that her behavior was the main influence which began the change in his attitude. When all prejudice seemed to be removed at the birth of Hannah's child, she was free to express her heartfelt gratification. Hence forth things went on as smoothly as could be desired. It was not possible for Wiley and Cullen to make a show of affection which neither felt, and which each knew was not felt by the other. Yet they behaved with decent civility whenever they met, and the in wives came to trust that, their family relations would become as they ought to be. The father, as happens often with old men after the death of their wives, lapsed sensibly from Ui£ yiguT which hitherto he had maintained. During this while he seemed to have grcirs more and more fond of Cullen and Hannah. At the beginning 1 of his last rapid decline, three years after, "OH, CCIXEX, SISTF.B JTLIA LOOKED DREADFtXLY." Julia, her husband making no oppo sition, suggested that Hannah should stay with them in the house, as her own strength was not sufiicient for con stant attendance upon his increasing needs. This was done. He was care fully watched by both sons and their wives; but it was easy to see that of all their ministrations those of Cullen were most acceptable to him. With Cullen he sometimes held brief consul tations which ended abruptly when Wiley came in. Yet he professed to have equal affection toward all of them, held to his faculties until near the last, and died calmly, as if he knew full well that vain would be any attempt to withstand an enemy who was irresistible. Waiting upon him so long, added to her other troubles, seemed to have well-nigh prostrated Wiley's wife. When they went home after the burial Hannah said; "Oh, Cullen! Sister Julia looked dreadfully in the graveyard to day. She's been declining fast since futher's sickness began, and 1 never saw her so bad as she was to-day." "Yes, she's going- very fast. Did you notice that brother didn't goanigh her, and that she tmd to lean on the arm of Mrs. Plume? I declare I was ashamed of him." "It didn't look well." "Look well? It looked just what it was, heartless. Well, poor father has gone now, and as soon as I and brother can have a settlement, I am going my way, and I shall let him understand that I want him to go his. False as he has l>een to me. and shameless in his treatment of you. the shabbiest of his whole behavior is what he has put up on Sister Julia, for whom I have more pity than for any person I ever knew. I actually believe he'll be glad when she dies, as she's goinsr to do, and that before very long." "Oh, Cullen!" "I tell you it's so, Hannah. 1 can't get you to understand Wiley. He never cared for anybody except him self since he was born, and he's always been regarding me as a thing in his way. He tried his best to get, father to give him more than his share of the property. Mother told me that, and she told me that Sister Julia's remon strances more than anything else pre vented its being done. Father, towards the last, said he had been intending to make a will, and would have done so except that brother said there was no use, as we could divide the property between us without the expense of ad ministration. You mark what I say; he had a motive for that interfering, and in some way he'll try to get the advantage of me." "I hope not. Oh, I hopa not!" "As soon as it is decent to do so, I am going into town to consult with Arthur Dabney in the case." "Arthur, they tell me, is getting to be a good lawyer and doing very well." "That he is, and, besides, is as (ino a fellow as lives." It pleased her to hear him speak so favorably of one who had been his rival. CHAPTER IV. The burial was on Thursday. On the afternoon of the second Monday thereafter, being the first Monday in that month, Cullen was called out to his gate by one of his neighbors on his return from town, who, after some conversation, rode away. "What did Mr. Haddock want, Cul len, dear?" asked Hannah. "You look serious, as if he had brought bad news." "They're not as good as I would have preferred to get, Hannah; he says brother propounded to-day, in the court of ordinary, father's will." "Is that so? Why, I heard father tell you he wasn't going to leave any will." "So you did." "What do you make of it?", "Nothing, except that I believe a fraud was put upon him; for father was a man of truth. I knew from mother that he made a will shortly after our marriage, but she told me just before she died that he had de stroyed it. Perhaps he destroyed an other paper, believing it was that." "Did Mr. Haddock tell you what was in it?" "Yes; he heard Mr. Flint talking about it on the street. He was one of the witnesses, and the only one that was sw<orn. The others were Owen Carruthers and William Lilly. Mr. Lilly is dead, and Owen is sick. Mr. Flint said that this place and the ne groes and stock on it are left to me, besides two thousand dollars in money to buy more land with; the rest goes to brother." "And what do you suppose that would amount to?" "I couldn't say, but considerably over a hundred thousand dollars." "And what that left to you?" "Aboutseven or eight thousand." "Wasn't something left to Pearce?" "Of course not. Pearce wasn't born when the will was made." "Almost nothing to you, and nothing to the child that was named after him, and that he seemed so fond of!" The sight of her disappointment, of her grief and shame, made him sick at heart. Ho went away from her for awhile. When he came back, she seld: "I wonder Mr. Flint would have wit nessed such a will, Cullen; he always was at least I always thought he wai a good friend of our family." "Of course ha was, and is. Such as that doesn't hinder a person from merely signing his name as witness to a business paper. Generally, at least often, witnesses to wills know nothing of what's in them. In this case Mr. Flint didn't. Haddock says he heard the old man say that he berated broth er in the ordinary's office about it, tell ing him it was a shame, and that if he had suspected what was in it lie never would have signed And brother an swered, so he said, that he intended, if 1 didn't make too much fuss about It, to allow me something more; he didn't say what." "And what are you going to do about it, dear?" "I can't say yet; but I will take noth ing from brother as a gift." "Wouldn't you make a compromise with him of any sort?" "No. And now, Hannah. I beg you not to interfere. You see that I under stood Wiley better than you did." She forbore to reply, but he could set- that his words did not satisfy her. Little was satil about it during the rest of the week. On Saturday morning Cullen went into town, repairing to Dabney's office at a corner of Hancock street and the courthouse square. "Oood morning, Cullen, said the lawyer. "I've been expecting you." "Howd'j-e. Arthur? Yes, I thought I'd consult you about this will of fa ther'#." "Nothing could have beeD more sur prising to me. I'd heard at one time your father was not wfll satisfied with you for some cause or other, but I thought he had become entirely recon ciled. Indeed, he seemed to me, dur ing his last three or four years, to be particularly fond of you —more so, I suspected, than of Wiley." "Yes; brother put him against Han nah, making him feel for awhile that I had lowered the family by marrying her, but he got over that, at least BO it appeared, in less than a year. He did make his will, so mother told me, but she said on her deathbed that he had destroyed it. Not long before he died he said to me distinctly that he wonld not leave a will and that brother had counseled him so, suggesting that he and I could divide the estate without resort to the court. Rather suspicious looking thing, isn't it?" "It is, indeed. Was your father en tirely in his right mind?" "Entirely; and there isn't a doubt but what he believed the truth of what he %aid. He was devoted to our baby, and seemed as fond of Uannah as he was of Sister Julia. Is it possible to do anything, do you think?" "Not that I can see, unless it can be shown that your father at the time of executing the will was not of dispos ing memory, or that the influence of Wiley upon him was such as he was not strong enough to resist." "Neither of these could be estab lished, I suppose—the first certainly not. I don't doubt that • brother had possession of the paper, and either kept father from destroyihg it or made him believe that it had been done." "It dates baek to July, 1830, I no ticed. That was not long after your marriage, if I don't forget." "Yes; about a month." "Your father had acquired some real estate since then, hadn't he?" "Yes; he bought another plantation on the river and the place beyond me." "That's lucky, as far as it goes. You'll be entitled to your portion of them, as they could not pass by the will. For the rest, Cullen, I am sorry to say, as it seems now, you || ' "THAT IB WHAT I WON'T HAVE." haven't much of a case. As for your father saying he had no will, that would not amount to a revocation even if it could be made clear that he so be lieved. But I tell you now that I'll get out of Wiley some of that property or I'll mar his enjoyment of it. I've no doubt that when he's made aware of the general indignation that already has begun to manifest itself he can be driven to some sort of compromise." "That is what I won't have, Arthur. If I am rightfully entitled to any part of the estate it's the half of it. 1 wouldn't want that if I believed father's last wishes were that I should be excluded from It. I know they were not. Therefore my brother Wiley may save himself the trouble of proposing 1 a compromise on any other basis. For the sake of my family and luy father's memory, I will flffht this paper if you should ever think it worth while, but I'll fight it openly." "Cullen, a man like you is of the sort most liable to be maltreated. If you had withstood Wiley at the start and asserted before your father the influ ence which, equally with Wiley, be longed to you, this gross injustice might not have been begun. And now you talk about not lighting this except on an open field, knowing that it is a flght of altogether another sort that has put you down. I would not coun sel to any movement that would be un fair, but I regard it as important, neo essary. indeed, that Wiley should be driven to apprehension by—well, if nothing else, by hints which I mean to threw out before Mr. Watson, his law yer, that he Is strongly suspected of unfair practices himself, and that I have, as I do have, a strong hope to find the clew that will lead to their detection." "All right, Arthur. I know you'll do the rig-lit thing. Mr. Watson Is an old lawyer and, they say, a first-rate one; but I am entirely willing to trust the case with you." "Thanky, Cullen. If things should occur appearing to need specially able management, I'll let you know, and then advise you to retain Seaborn Tor rance." "We'll wait awhile on that. Don't make any decisive movement of any sort yet. I'll tell you why. Wiley don't know it, but he has a wife who Is the very best woman I know, and she is dying by inches. I don't believe sho'll live three months longer. 1 think a sight of her, so does Hannah, and I won't have her feelings torn up on account of domestic) strife. If Mr. Watson Intimates any sort of compro mise, refer hlin to me. T wouldn't be disinclined to have one little homely chat with Wiley, now that our parents are dead, and I can let him know,with out hurting their feelings, some things I think. I shall not go near lihn, al though 1 shall not go out of my way to avoid him. I rather look for him to offer to hand me over the money legacy with out waiting the year the law allows him. Well, I've got a little other busi ness down-town. I'll go to that, and then movo on back. Good-day." From the window Dabney regarded him. as he went on down ♦>!» "Yes," he soliloquized; " Hannah could not but prefer such a man to me; but I doubt if he loved her as welL For tho sake of both, I mean to do my best to ferret out and bring to light this villainy." [TO M COXTim-BD.) Th« Oalj Way. Professor (lecturing on the gorilla)— Gentlemen, you must give me your un dirided attention. It Is Imoosslble for you to form a true Idea of wis hideous animal unless you keep your eyes tLxed on roe. —Boston Commercial IJulletin. >lup«ful Sign. Grocer —1 rather think the new boy Is going to get along. Partner—lie doesn't know our cus tomers yet. Grocer —He knows enough to addmss all the married women as "Miaa."— Fuck. Flrkl* rublop. Mrs. Wabash—l understand dark hair Is again considered the proper thing. Mrs. Weeds—That's just my luck. Mrs. Wabash —What? Mrs. Weeds—l've Just married m/ kmrtb blyadf ■—Worlii i 35T019 LOCKED OUT OF Jf A frUontr'i Queer Ch>r(e Ag fill Jailer. There was a certain old ms ho kept the county jail in a coua "il lage, says Kate Field's Washing »jn, and he fed and housed the convicts so well that they became greatly attached to him. lie could actually allow them to go about at wilL He used to hire them out to the farmers in the neigh borhood during the harvest season, and in that way turn an honest penny for the taxpayers. Early one morning one of the prisoners appeared at the office of a lawyer in the place. "Young man," said he, "art you the lawyer?" "I am," was the answer. "I want you to get me out cf jail on 9 writ of habeas corpus, and I want it right away." "Well, hold on, my friend," said the lawyer. "We must have a reason to show the court, before we can ask for A writ." "I've reason enough," exclaimed the man. "The cruelty of the keeper makes life there unbearable." "Oh, pshaw! don't tell me such non nense. There never was a kinder keep er in charge of a jail." "Judge for yourself," the pris .or in sisted. "Yesterday I was woi -mt at Mr. Walkinsliaw's, ar.'i we k... . >if,' lot of hay to get in, for tb? sl<y was full of rainclouds. So when the jail horn blew for bedtime, I stayed and helped get the hay under cover. "It was after dark when I got back, and would you believe it? that hard hearted keeper had locked me out! I had to sleep in the street, and caught rheumatism in my bones. It settled things in my mind. 'l'll not stay an other night under the roof of a man who'll treat me like that,' says I to myself. So, Mr. Lawyer, I want you to get me out before sundown, do you tear?" TAURUS IN AN UNWONTED ROLE Untoward Remit* of Substituting a Ball tor a Home In " Mazeppa." Jim Larkin was a noted character ol Cheyenne in the '7os, says the Ana? conda Standard. Larkin was one of those harmless, officious fellows and had his nose into everything. There was never a dog flght but in some way he got bitten; never a fire but he got burned, and never an accident hut be was there in time to get hurt, was something of a showman. During his residence In Cheyenne a colored tragedian filled an engagement in th&p city, playing "Hamlet" and "Othello. Larkin saw in the colored man a great Opportunity to make money and in duced him to play "Mazeppa," using a willd bull instead of a wild horse. Th.o tragedian fell into the idea and re hearsals for the great event were had, Tho performance was given in a large hall, which was crowded to the doors. The play went off lovely until it wa9 time for the wild bull of Tartary to bfl brought on and then there was a slight hitch. The bull had suddenly become reluctant about going on the stag®. Manager Larkin got behind him and gave the animal's tail a twist. It had Iho desired effect. The bull rushed upj on the stage and tore out every foot pt •cenery and then jumped off into the orchestra, landing on top of the slide trombone player. The aradienod stampeded and jumped through the windows and doors, and in a very few minutes tho bull had everything tq himself. The "Mazeppa" engagement closed that night. GHOSTS HAVE BAD HABITS. TboM of Clilnamep darted la a Foreign Land Will Not Rest. The movement recently put on foot in this city to have the bones of China men burled in the New York Bay cem etery and Evergreens cemetery ex humed and sent to CUna will bring relief to hundreds of families In thS Celestial kingdom- Tho average Chinaman is nothing tt not superstitious, says the New York Herald. When one dies down in China town all the other Celestials hurriedly move out of the house. The aeceasoa may have been companionable enough when living, hut, being dead, nls ghost becomes a thing of terror. The ghost of a Chinaman buried lqf) forolgn land never rests. tlatlesi. giium-fuddled Wong Bong m&y never ive stepped beyond the precincts ol ott or fell sweets, but his ghost (9 always cursed with Bohemian instincts, and is possessed with an insane desire to travel. JSvery little while it taktjs & flying trip to China, and the first thing they know, tho relatives of that Chinaman begin to run against it in the du-k and, have their wits frightened out 01 them. Tho poor ghost isn't to blame, olther. Old Charon positively refuses to recog nize him; he gets low spirited, down on his luck, and finally, in sheer despair, becomes a chronic hunter Of former relatives, and is, in short, an out and out nuisance. To Please Illm. A great many stories are told ot the jealousy and Ul-fccllng among thO mu sicians, but not always are the tales SQ full of u good-humored appreciation QI the state of things as is the following, told by tho Argonaut: Rossini, walk ing one day on the boulevard with the musician Braga, was greeted hj Meyerbeer, who anxiously inquired after tho health of his dear Rossini. "Had, very bad," answered the latterj "a headache, a sldeache and a leg I ean scarcely move." After a few mo menta' conversation, Meyerbeer passed on, and Urnga asked tho great com poser how it was he had suddenly be come so unwell. Smilingly Rossini re assured liis friend. "Oh, I couldn't bo better; J only wanted to please Meyer beer. Ho would be so glad to Bee m< ■mash up!" And the I.lght Went Out. "John," said Mrs. Bossman, "it U tlmo you were in bed. if you dont turn tho light down, the first thing you know the baby will be awake." "Pshaw," said Mr. Bossman, "the light won't wako him." "No, but I'll wake him myself." Tlio prospect was too ap palling. He meekly did as he was blcL Fqual Terms. Miss Manyseason—Yes, I have con sented to marry Mr. Ooldbugg. Ido not love liiin, but I respect him. Miss Budd—Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Most likely his feeling for you is chiefly veneration.—N. Y. Weekly. Help for the Farentloss. "Now, that is what I call an appre ciation of the proper thing." "What In tho world are you talking about?" "About tho South side grocer's con tribution of a barrel of self -raising flour to tho orphan asylum." —Indianapolis Journal. He Knew lie Was. "Well, you're a sight," exclaimed the bystanders as tho man fell into tho mortar bed. "Yes," tho man said, sorrowfully, as he scraaped himself off with a chip; "sub-lime."—Rockland Tribune. A (iond Definition. Ponder—What's an Intellectual feast? Lane Walker Some placo where they've got a houseful of gab and not a mouthful of grub.— Philadelphia In quirer. Nlmllla dlmtllbiM. They found a man who drugged And robbed was Buffering In pain; They railed a doctor, and the insn Wat drugged and robbed again. —Detroit Tribune.