Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, August 29, 1895, Image 1
VOLXXXII ££ US? ■aaanaate masssasssat BUTLER pAIR! SEPTEMBER 3,4,5 & 6,1895. rates on all the railroads during three days. Lists on application to the Secretary. W. P. ROESSING, Butler, Pa. idf m i Both Trumps And Trumps Lead— [ J* sij Our Line of fine Shoes I jr% £j ought to draw you to I Jj tC ' ns P ect ' on M / [| their merits Prices vi ffk have touched the bot- LOOK! At Our Prices. Men's Tan Shoes that sold at $5.50 go at $3.50. Men's Tan Shoes that sold at (4.00 go at (2.25. Men's Tan Shoes that sold at J3.25 go at #1.75. Boy's Tan Shoes that sold at (2.00 go at fi.oo. Men's Calf Shoes that sold at $1.50 go at f 1.00. Men's Every Day Shoes that sold at (1.25 go at 90c. Boy's Every Day Shoes that sold at |i.oo go at 75c. Ladies Shoes, Grandest Bargains Ever Offered. Ladies' fine dongola patent tip shoes at 90C. Ladies' flexible sole shoes lace and button at $1.50. Ladies' rus&ett shoes hand turns at f 2.00. Ladies' russett shoes heel or spring at SI.OO. Women's heavy tip shoes SI.OO. Women's heavy shoes button (1.00. Misses heavy shoes in lace or button at 75c. Children's school shoes 50c to 75c. Owing to the material advance the manufacturers have advanced on all their Soods —but as our large fall and winter stock wl" ich is arriving daily was bought 1 efore the advance, I am now prepared to show the largest stock of reliable Boots and Shoes ever brought to Butler, and at such remarkably low prices that you are ' sure to buy. Our stock is large and complete. Full stock of Men's ana Boy's heavy Boots; Full stock of rubber goods; Complete stock of Felt Boots and Shoes — Also line of wann lined Shoes and Slippers—Men's, Women's and Misses' heavy shoes in all material's and all at the old LOW PRICE. When in Butler call and see me. Mail orders receive prompt attention. JOHN BICKEL, 128 S Main Street, BUTLER, PA. Branch Store N. riain st, SIZES in Muslin snd£ "11 Gauge Underwear at greatly\ Reduced Prices. * %%%%%%%%!%%%%• NOTHER Cut in Millinery! Any flower /\ in the house for 7cts. Another table of 9c ribbon—you will find this just as good as we sold last week. ASWSSftKItITSMRaft ■** GLOVES AT HALF-pr ic t |fo, M. F. & M. MARKS, 113 to 117 S. Main St. S TYLE S. » The styles in shoes are constantly under-going changes. To be in the front ranks of fashion as far as your shoes are concerned will coat you nothing, in additional to what it costs plenty of others to wear "out of date" shoes, if you buy your shoes at RUFF'S. We aim to 1h- the first to show the latest and prettiest styles ill Ladies' Gentlemen's and Children*' Pine Footwear, and to lead in the lowest prices cousistant with rv liable goods. That we are succeeding in our ambition to please is attested by our large and increasing trade. As here tofore we continue to deal in the solidest and beat wearing Boots and Shoes made for every day wear and heavy work shoes, such as farmers, oil men and mechanics generally wear. Our Women's and Childrens' Waterproof Shoes will wear an entire winter. One pair of shoes or boota all around for every day use and you are fixed for the winter if bought at RUFF'S. While price is always considered after service in our shoes, you will find it as low if not lower than yon have been paying for inferior goods. A- RUFF & SON. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. Register's Notice. The Register hereby given notice that the following accounts of executors, ad ministrators and guardians have been filed in his office according to law, and will be presented to Court for confirma tion ana allowance on Saturday, the 7th day of Sept. 1895, at nine o'clock, A. M., of said day: 1. Final account of Elizabeth M. Main land administratrix of Robert Maizland deceased late of Clinton Township. 2. Partial account of Amos Reep, Ex ecutor of Isaac Reep deceased late of Donegal township. 3. Final account of Adaline A. Taylor, administratrix of Win. E. Taylor, de ceased, late of Brady township. 4. Final account of John M. Dunn, ex ecutor of Jane Beighley, deceased, late of Connoquenessing township. 5. Final account of Louisa A. McN'a mer and J. C. Wimer, executors of Jennie Wimer deceased, late of Portersville boro. 6. Final account of Robert G. Craw ford, guardian of William M. Crawford, minor child of Isabella Crawford deceas ed, as filed by John Crawford administra tor of Robert G. Crawford deceased. 7. Final account of Samuel Mock, ad ministrator of Susan Barnhart, deceased, late of Fairview township. 8. First Partial account of Joseph B. Kelly, and Dan Kelly, executors of Job Kelly, deceased, late of Cherry town ship. 9. Final account of J. M. Lindsev. guardian of Mary L. Smith, minor child of Win. V. Lindsey, deceased late of Jackson township. 10. Final account of James B. Niblock, and Harrison Dyke, executors of Jacob Niblock deceased, late of Connoqueness ing township. 11. Final account of Thomas Donagliy, administrator of George W. Ziegler, de ceased late of Butler boro. 12. Final account of James R. McCand less, administrator of Mary McCandless deceased, late of Cherry township. 13. Final account of Robert Krause, executor of Robert Cooper, deceased late 6i Winfield township. 14. Distribution account of Elizabeth Gilkey, executrix of Robert Gilkey de ceased, late of Slippcryrock township. 15. Final account of Ferd Keiber, guardian of Nora L, Reed minor child of Wilson E. Reed deceased, late of Butler boro. 16. Final account of Mary Campbell, adminiftratrix of Silas Campiiell deceas ed late of Washington township. 17. Final account of Andrew G. Camp bell, trustee to make sale of the real es tate of Reuben Mvisselman deceased late of Harmony boro. 18. Final account of John H. Gormley, guardian of Mary Mortland, minor child of Stephen Mortland deceased, late ol Marion township. 19. Final account of William Shepard and George M. Shepard, executors of John Shepard deceased, late of Middle sex township. 20. Partial account of Maggie S. Cov ert, now Morrison, executrix of Miles Covert, deceased, late of Adams town ship. WIDOWS' APPRAISEMENTS. The following widows' apprsitemenls ol persons! property and rest es<ste set apart for tbe beoetit of the widows of decedtntr. have been filed in the office of the Clerk ol Orphsns' Court ot Butler county, vi*. Widow of Jsmea McKinney.. 34 " Campbell Bartley 31W 00 F. P. Baldauf'realty; 300 00 " George Weckbecker 300 00 " Atnszish Kelly 30«> 00 " Alexander Morrison li>b 22 " Rev. Sam'l Williams 300 00 " Isaiah N. Brown iiiw 50 " Jerem'b Keister i realty).... 300 00 " IrsSUuffer 300 00 " Daniel O. McLaughlin 300 00 All persons iuierested iu the sbove sp. prsisemenU will take notice ibst tbey will Oe presented for roDflrmation to the Or phans' Court of Butler county, Pa., on S*t urdsv, the 7tb dsy of September, 169j, end it no exception! sre hied they will be coo firmed * k * o,nl * l yj t> qgp|| CBIBWELL, Clerk O. C. Road and Bridge Reports. Notice U hereby given thst the following road and bridge views hsve lieen continue.- nisi by tbe Court and will be pre«euted ro oourt on Saturday morning of the first weei* of September- 1856. snd ll no exceptions art filed they will be confirmed abuolutely 11 D. No. 1, June 3en ion, IS"S. I*lllloo of cltiiens ofClintou township tor a ounty bridge over Bull Cnek where the public road lesdiDK frein the Ssmn'.urf r.md .;r.»sa es ssld creek on tbe farm of btepheu Him/i --bill, in r .sM towpch'p. Msrcb 13tb. viewers appointed by ths Conrt.aod June 3d, reporl of vi t w tt% filed listing that the l.ridKe prsyed for is necessary and toe cost ol erection more than the township ot Clinton »bnul<l btai sod report io favor of the county erecting the same. No damages assessed. Bv THE Coli'ET. R. I). No, 2. June Session, 1««n, petition of citizens of Jackaon t"wn«hi|. for a put.iic road to beg-io at a point «o ih«s Zeliem>j>la and i'errvaville public rornl al or uear lite houac of Casper Bcbeei i>r»<« to eitrud to * iint on the public road nailed the "Hig ill road," at or uear tlie bouse of Oeoigr Knaufi. May 4tb, 189 V viewers appointed by the court, and June 3d, IK!<6, rr|>orl »' viewers filed, stating tbat tlie road prayed for ia necessary and nave laid out tbe «aine for public uae between tbe poiuta uaiatxi in pct<lion; coat of making about one buodred dollara, to be borne by '.be township; tb«- damage* arsesaed, thirty dollara to George K nauff and fllty dollars to August Kinebart released by Ibe aame. June stb, 1895, approved, and fix width o' road at 33 feet. Notice to be given accord ing to rales of court. By this Cot' kt. Bctlk Coukty. «►: Certified from the record this sth day of August A. D. 1895. JOSEPH CBIBWELL, Clerk 8. Court, {Selling out J ![ To Quit ? # Business.? Wall Paper at less than€ cost. 5 11 Fine papers at the priced <iof common cheap ones. # The largest stock of Wallr in the county to (sold out either Wholesale ors ißetail, at — 4 j DOUGLASS' ? * Near P. O.j £ N. B.—Wall Paper hasa Hotel Williard. Reopened and now ready for tie commodation of the trar eling pub ic. Everything} in firat-elaaa style, MRS. VATTIE REIHIKG, Owner 1 H BROOKS, Clerk. TOU CAN FIND JEt sn Us la rrrraavß«H *i the Ad'ertMjg Surati •! BUTLER. PA., THURSDAY. AUGUST 2 9. 1895. It is a Fact That Hood'sßarsa pari 11a has aa unequalled record of cares, the largest sales la ths world, sad cures when all others fail. Hood's Sarsaparilla Is the Only True Blood Purifier Prominently la the pa blio eye today, fl; ■LZ tor |5. Be sure to get HOOD'S. Hood's PiUs Hood'i ItrupwlUa. HEINEMAN & SON, I SUMMER I V ia approaching and tqa r J only way to keep cool is J J to go to J rt? Heinenian's D, t j „ ? W , sod get vonrpelf a nice • £_< JiS Hammock., J 5 ~ A * D J We have the largest ? mj and finent line of \ ] zj Hammocks jz Q £ ever brought to Butler f *j Wall Paper \& 2 from tbe clieapeKt to tbe J J finest of Prenaed J >_< PAPERS. W* * K 2 t We also handle _ d celebrated W ' jjjj RAMBLER 5? I BICYCLE. < HEINEMAN & SON. 'GREAT SAMPLE SALE. Summer Siloes, AT Half-Prices. Just received i .000 pairs ot Summer Sample Shoes and Slip pers. 1 IICJC goou-J are to be solo at once. 1 bought them at m; own price and you can have th 11 at yours. These samples Wert not bought to make money on but to keep things lively during the dull season. Prices Good for 10 Days Only Ladies' Fine Tan Oxfords, $1 and fi.25 kind | 65 Ladies' Fine Dongo'ia Oxfords, 750 kind $ 4° Ladies' Fine Cloth Slijjpc.s go at... 21 Ladies' Fine Tail Shoes, heel, f2 kind $1 10 Ladies' Fine Tan Shoes, spring, f.2 kind fi 10 Ladies' Fine Kid Button Shoes re duced to f S4 Ladies' Fine Tan Shoes, fz kind,... 1 25 Hoys' and Youths' Fide Tan Shoes f2 kind fi 10 Misses and Children's Tan Shoes Space forbids me quoting In - ;iier,but if you vv :1 c <ll dui Sample Sale you will see Summer hoes going cheaper than ever be lore. Don't delay but come at once and try The New Shoe Store During This SAMPLE SALE OF SUMMER SHOES. C. E. MILLER, Mj S. M;iir> St., Butler, Pa. C.%D. SLIMMER Goods are iu demand now in I 3 order to get the best of old Sol- / f We provide everything need- J 1 ful iu order to bo cool and com-1 \ fortable. r N Ilats and Furnishings for / / Men Boys apd Children are \ \ our ppecialties and we only ask i C an inspection of our goods. S C We know tbej are satialac- > ( tory. Colbert & Dale. Hotel Butler J. H. FAUBEL, Prop'r. This h*use has been thorough ly renovated, remodeled, and re fitted with new furniture and carpets; has electric bells and all other modern conveniences foi guests, and is as convenient, and desirable a home for strangers as can be found in Butler, Pa. Elegant sample room for use o ommercial men THE HARVEST MOON. Beyond the hilltops, vsgue sad dim. Beyond the wide world's utmost rim. Flame sunset's golden bars. While one by one In Hearen's height. I The unseen gusrdlaas ot the night Set their wstohllres ot stars. The fields grow dim and fade from sight. Behind the purple veil ot night. And all ths world la hid. A boding sllenoe holds la thrsil All sound eieept ths pUlatlve call Of one lone katydid. Then comes s bresth of breeze thst brings A rustle as of seraphs' wings. Such as tbe dreamer hears; And In the east, where d.iy has birth. Just where the heavens touch the earth. The harvest moon appears. E'er slnoe the stars—a oountless throng— At morning sanj their wordless song. When time had Just begun. The harvest moon has come to fill With Joy the soul that boded 111, Because of summer gone. While stars shall glow, while rivers flow, While winters come as summers go. While men shall sigh or sing: While time shall last, while mountains stend, Ths harvest moon to every land. Shall nights of splendor bring. —Miller Purvis, In Womankind. A RUNAWAY WHEEL BY UE7TBT E. HAVDOCE. V\\ 7 RED, old man, AM [/ you are ladeed for tunate," I **ld. as 1 leaned M "<% ll]))))))))! back e : as^* lr b v sw ore t^ie * rate fl re i n hla oozy "Yea, fortunate is the very word," he answered, musingly; "the events of an hour changed the course of my life. If that hour had been left out of the day I should not be the possessor of such a hone, but would be back in the old bachelor quarters. They were not so bad, and there was only one woman for whom I would give them up. At that time she had refused me —was, in fact, engaged to another. "I have never before spoken of this, but what I have gained haa been well earned. I waa favored by fortune in that hour, but it waa seizing the op portunity that made me succeatful. "A party of us had gone away on a wheeling trip We were yoang, gay and joyous, and the week* slipped by until it came time for us to think of re turning. "From being in love with Emily Brant I became madly infatuated with her. Though she treated me In the moat distant manner, I atill thought, with the conceit of youth, that she eared a little for me. I was helped out in this idea by little incidents and trivial circumstances which led me to hope she would accept me. "I had a rival—a man who did not Seem to consider my actions of any im- Eortance. I could not seem to make lm jealous In the slightest degree. He had naturally a very self-composed manner, but this alone would not ac count for his bearing. "I came to the conclusion that I must propose to Emily before we re turned to the city, as I would hare a much better opportunity of stating my case amid favorable surroundings than in the city with its bustle and in terruptiona. "One afternoon we were riding through a beautiful valley and it so happened Emily and myself were quite a dlstanoe to the rear of the party. The road was smooth, the trees arohed overhead, the sunlight streamed In gold shafts through them, falling al ternately ifpon Emily as she rode her wneei »> c'u«i v Kracemuy, ngiiv lng her beanty with a soft glow. I oould keep silence no longer, and rid ing close besjde her, as we sped on to gether, I told her how much I loved her and aslted her to be my wife. "Then came the breaking of the dream 1 had had for so many weeks and months. In a few words I learned there was no hope for me, that though •he admired and respected me she had never thought of me in any other way; that there was already an understand ing between Mr. Fernow and herself and that their engagement was soon to be announced. "At first I could hardly believe my ears. We rode the rest of the way in alienee. For me the glory of the day "1 CAUGHT HKH HANDLE IIA118." bad departed. It was as If a base, like the melancholy haze of Indian sum mer, through whloh I should see all things for all time, had closed around me. "If It had been possible, I should have left that night for the city, but cireumstancea compelled me to ao company the party on one last ride. "I never saw a gayer set of people than we were when we started the next day. Some of them guyed me a little about iny lack of gayety, but I answered that I was to leave the next day and felt sad in consequence. "We were to ride down one valley, then descend a mountain into another valley. I was the only one In the party who had been over the road, audit was ao long ago I had partially forgotten It. When we 1 to descend the mountain I told them we had better walk, as the road was very steep. They took my advice for a time, and we had gone the greater part of the way when one of the party, In a spirit of frolic, mounted his wheel and dared the others to do likewise. "Thinking we were almost at the foot of the mountain, we all followed his example. I was riding in the lead, Earnest Fernow was close beside me. Suddenly, on turning a bend, we oame upon a pitch In the road so steep as to greatly alarm us. "We had all been riding at good •peed. This In itself would have mattered little had eaeh one of ua hod our wheels under perfect control; but timidity, carelessness or fright might mean great danger. "I saw Earnest Fernow turn white and jam his brake down hard, while he back-pedaled with all his might. Suddenly we were startled by a ary of fear—a cry for help: 'Earnest, aave me!' The next instant Emily Brant sped by us; she had lost control of her wheel. "Fernow paid no heed; he wa* too frightened hlrnaelf; he turned bis bicycle Into the bank and Jumped. Even at the speed with which she was going I knew she realized ha had de serted her. "Unleaa you have been aimliarly placed, you cannot understand the ghastly feeling of horror that comes over you as you know your wheel is beyond your control on a steep naoun tala. There la no way to stop but by turning jpW the bank taking a_ neadiong plunge, and the chanoea of injury or death, or to keep on, while the speed Increases with each revolu tion of the wheels, and the chanoea of escape grow less. "I realized If I started in pursuit my wheel would be In a moment more be yond my oontroli still my opportu nity had 00me. and I did not besitate. A moment more and I was close beside her, I had no idea up to this time what I should do, but as my wheel, owing to superior weight, closed up the gap between us my thoughts be gan to take form. "The road, fortunately, was almos straight. I remembered that where it came upon the valley there was a wide, •hallow river. It came down the moun tain at right angles to the river, then turned to the left There was a small open field between the road and river. I knew instinctively that she would try to turn away from the river. In that case she would be hurled against THE BBSCUE. a mass of rock through which the road had been cut. "I must reach her before we came upon the river. For a time our speed was terrific. The rooks and trees seemed to be strangely blurred as they sped by. We could feel the air like & resisting wall through which we were plunging. Then we came upon a rise in the road, almost a hill, which reduced our speed somewhat, and I eame nearer her. "As I came close beside her wheel she turned her head as if she oould not bear the sight of the water toward which we were plunging. "She saw me. and In all the horror that surrounded us I felt a great hap piness, for there was trust, confidence and admiration In that look. It aaid: 'You will save me.' "Up to that time I believe she thought she was riding to death alone. "Then I waa close beside her, and as we came toward the turn In the road I reached over and seised, for one instant, the handle bars of her wheel, keeping both wheels pointed for the open field and the river. "There was a minute's jar as we eroased the field, then the river seemed to spring forward to meet us. There was a dull shock, and a plungo into the water. "I found myself, when I had recov ered from the force of the blow, half standing, half floating in the shallow water holding Emily Brant, who was white and unconscious. The land scape seemed to be spinning round like m top. "I realized we had escaped serious injury, as the river had acted as a cushion and lessened the force of the impact as we plunged from our wheels. She soon revived, but was and dizzy. That night the order of things was changed; I re toameu, .. SVrnow who left the city. "From that day the > -* T_ summer that threatened to envelop my life has given place to the noontide." For a moment or two as Fred oeased apeaking we both sat looking at the grate flre where the coals glowed in the ruddy flame. I was thinking, knowing Fred as well as I did, that Emily might well consider that -hour a fortunate hour for her, though at the time it carried with it a dread; but all I said was: "Thanks for the story, old man." — Onoe a Week. I —ln 1880 the value of materials used In the cotton mills of this country was $102,000,020, while in 181K) the value liail risen to 8155,000,000. —Life, as we call it, is nothing but the edge of the boundless ocean of exist ence where it comes upon soundings. Holmes. SULLIVAN'S NARROW ESCAPE. H* Might H»T« BH> Killed by m Vot ef Imp*ranl«ua (Jaroblert. New stories of Maurice Jeuka, the English gambler, known as "The Bac carat King,"«are told whenever Ameri can travelers get together. Jenks, says the Cincinnati Enquirer, who is a gen erous man and a good friend, is also a very game man. It was Jenks who backed Mitchell against Sullivan in France. When the party got back to England Sullivan was informed of aome remarks Jenks had made at the ring re flecting upon his professional ability, and he swore that he would make Jenks eat his words. That evening Sullivan, half under the Influence of liquor, visited the Empire theater, and Jenks waa pointed out to him on the prom enade. The prise fighter went to the gambler, who Is about five feet six Inches tall, and began: "You're the fel low that backed Mitchell against me." "Well," retorted Jenks, sharply, "if somebody didn't put up the money for you loafers to fight for you'd have to work for a living." Sullivan did not pursue the conversa tion further, and when It was Inti mated to Jenks that he bad narrowly escape a thrashing he said: "Why, there were twenty men hanging around there who are borrowing anywhere from a shilling to a sovereign a day from me, and they would be so eager to prove their gratitude that if that big ruffian had ever laid his hands on me they'd have killed him." Overlooked for Onre. A very humorohs story, uid of course it Is a true one, is told oia former su perintendent of a Mjiine M hoe factory. One of the employes not doing his part an the superintendent desired was dis chargcd, but on the next day was found In his place at work. "What are you here for? Didn't I discharge you yesterday?" asked the superintendent. "Yes, sir; but If you don't do It again I'll overlook It this time," was the re sponse. The superintendent was so dazed by the man's answer that he turned away, not knowing just what to say. The joke of the matter was that the man stayed at his work for more than a year afterwards and was paid regularly. We don't give this as a rec ipe for unsatisfactory workman. It won't work every time. The Undertaker llee. There was serious trouble In a su burban beehive the other day, and in the midst of the excitement several bees dragged out one of their dead and left it on the edge of the hive. Many bees came and went, leaving the dead body unnoticed, but after awhile came along the undertaker bee. He seized the body, flew off with it sonjo yards and dropped it In the grass The oper ation was repeated with another dead bee, and, as l>efore, those whose duty lay in other directions left to the undertaker the taak of carrying off the body. A I f v. ; i —• *■ NOW. Poller what shirks an • U lazy Ain't no use llvlu'. I TOW: But I tell yer who la the daisy— The feller thetdoes things note. He's never crocrastlnutln' An' tellin' ye "why" an' "how," When the doln' on't '■ what he's h&tla"; lie jest goes and does it a otc. Et the cordwood calls fer » tussle Thet'll bring the sweat to his brow, Be gits oat his saw with a hustle. An tackles the Job right note. The chap that talis of ter-morrer Is crooked somewheres. I 'How; Ic paytn* what he may borrer. He nurer gits round ter now. But the feller thet s;;.r*.s on the minute— The crows don't roost on h..-. p >w— Ef't rains he ain't workln' out in It, 'Cause he gits his hay In now. Ef yer lookln' fer what'll suit yer, Yer kin take oft yer hat an' bow Ter the chap that's short on the future An' ekerly long on now. —Frank Koe Batchelder. In Life A LOCAL COLOR TRAGEDY. BY EDITH SESSIONS TIPPER. HEN Violet Lin -11 {T ar< l announced Ishe was £oing in for liter«tore there were those among 1 us who scoffed. Violet waa so alarmtnf?- §v<V ly pretty, one /£)! would never sus pect her of pos sessing' brains. She was one of those girls with alluring faces —the sort of beaute-du-diable of which fhiida is al ways writing, eyes of most unholy blue and lips which could smile a man's soul away. A fascinating minx with the most graceful and winning man ners; a being of moods, tender, repel lant, kindly and icy by turns, she had created havoc and strewn devastation wherever her dainty feet had trod. Suddenly she wearied of the endless round of gayety and fashion to which from her teens she had been accus tomed and amazed her coterie by de claring her intention of writing real istic novels. Of course everyone said it waa merely a fad and would soon blow over. But It didn't, that was the astounding part of it. Her first novel attracted more than passing notice. She was commended for her original and audacious style, her clever plot and a certain dainty feminine touch. She was written about, interviewed, her beauty and talent were praised by the paragraph ers and all the details of her luxurious life were brandiahed about the coun try. From being merely a typical so ciety girl, a young woman of elegance and fashion, she suddenly became a somebody to be pointed out and stared at and raved about. This spasmodic adulation pleased Violet. She had always feasted upon flattery but now she reveled In it. She threw herself into a life of feverish emotion, became cynical, disdainful, and thought of nothing but her miser able ambition. Local coloring came to be an abso lute mania with her. She was al ways prating of "atmosphere" and "realism." One can stand a lot of in fernal nonsense from a pretty wouian, but really poor Violet often grew ac tually tiresome with her endless rhap sodies about "the divinitv of realism." It was just after publishing her sec ond novel, a combination of ingenuity and wickedness, a smartish, brackish story you wouldn't have liked your sister to write, that the girl decided to go to the far west In search of "local color" for the next attempt. "Yea," she drawled, with the fine lady air of disdain she had assumed .^ C h or naxnsHw NrU-i may take a cowboy for the latter— who knows? They tell me those fel lows are delightfully original and as breezy aa the winds from the U'>ckles." She made up her mind she had not been misinformed when, a month later, she met Jack Weatherby. Weatherby was a child of the plains. He had never been east of the Missis sippi and had an infinite contempt for the land of the rising sun. He had hunted for a living; he had been a cowboy and raised as much of a rum pua in mining camps as the next fal low. Now he owned his own ranch XUK * 11K11 >*> i" I X '''''I NOVO and herds; had settled down some what and had begun to think he would like a wife and home. lie was a hauds'jme fellow, as Hery aa the mustang he rode and as tender hearted as a woman —some women. Ills ranch lay in the shadow of the Sangre de Christo range, next to that of the Athertons, where the New \ork girl was stopping. Its acres stretched to the shadowy foot hills and over them roamed the sleek, well-fed crea tures of which he was so proud. It was two days after her urrival that he saw her first. He had ridden over to see Tom Atherton, the big muscular Englishman, who was his particular crony, and had come down the trail with his customary "Hark" and "Whoop." As though riding the sightless couriers of the air, he dashed up to the little flower garden, spurs and chains jingling, sombrero flapping, and letting out a yell which could have been heard in Denver. And there by the side of pretty Mrs. Atherton, sat a stranger, a vision, an angel. The as tonished ranchman blushed and stam mered like a school boy as lie bowed awkwardly an.l apologized for his Apache-like descent. Who was this divinity in palest pink, this radiant creature with hair like gold and eyes of heaven's own blue? "My friend, Miss Llngard, from New York," Mrs. Atherton had said. I'shaw! She was a celestial being straight lroui Para dise. I have always pltieil Weather by. Never for one moment eould I blame him. Ho W«J» A primitive man with savage instinct* lurkiutf In his brcaot. lirave, loyal, atraijfhtforwurd himself, how couid he dream of the treacherous cruel blows one little soft white hand wan capable of dealing? Violet found thla aturdy, brawny ranchero a delightful study, au'l de cided he should be the hero of her uext novel. IIU quaint wit and pootic fan cies horn of the mesa* and the moun tains, hi* forcible and often unjfrain matlcal speech were faithfully noted; his emotions were played upon, hi* heart was probed. And he never dreamed he was beinff experimented on. He loved thin exquisite creature, this dainty, soft, purring beauty, as he loved his life, lie coveted her and .loutfed to shut her close to hia big, faithful, honest heart. At lost came the night when Vtoltt —— ' , T ca. ru*l Iter pumiuu lor "atmosphere" and "local coloring" to it« climax. They ha<l gone for their customary even ing stroll, and had climbed up a lofty butte to a broad ledge of rocks. At their feet yawned the canyon, tre mendous, awful, black, save where the moonlight touched the opposite wall with ghostly finders. Back of them loomed the range like the battlements of a phantom city. Through the pines In the canyon the wind came sighing In mournful cadence. While far, far below sounded the faint rushing of water —the rirer tumbling and foam ing along over its rocky bed. "What a weird place," cried Violet with a pretty little shudder, "and what a ghost-like night Why did we never come up here before. Jack? What a scene!" Weather by was lying at her feet where he had thrown himself to rest after their climb. He turned his face, white in the moonlight, toward her, and fixing his dusky, unfathomable eyes upon her, said: "I kept thla place for this hour. I meant to bring you HE STOOD AS IP TURNED TO STO.VK. here when I got my courage to the point where I could say all that is in my heart. Many a time down there," pointing to the ranch lying belpw. "I have looked up here and thought of the time I would bring you to tell you how I love you." For one Instant Violet felt a queer little thrilL The simple dignity of his declaration almost moved the worldly, cold-blooded glrL Then she thought of her local coloring. "What a situa tion for my novel," she said to her self; then aloud, gently: "So you real ly love me. Jack?" "Love you?" he echoed, passionately, as he rose and sat down beside her. "Violet, look," taking her hand, "my heart lies here in this dear little hand." Then throwing all reserve to the winds, he seized her and kissed her, madly, tempestuously. She struggled to free herself and at length succeeded. "How dare you?" she demanded; "how dare —" "How dare I?" he cried. "Why, dearest, I love you—l love you, do you hear? And you. you love me a little, do you not?" He was approaching her again, when she said, contemptuously: "No; not a bit. I have simply been studying you." Ile stood as If turned to stone. "Studying' me," he said, in a queer voice. "studying—why—why?" ho sav agely demanded, as he caught her wrist and held it in an iron grip. "You were so different," she fal tered, a bit frightened at his sudden ferocity. "I wanted a new type for my book, you know. I suppose Torn told you I write books—" An absolutely murderous look swept over Weatherby's face. "No," he •aid, "no out) told me that. So you write books? And you wanted to put me in it—was that it? Answer me, "Yes," she murmured, faintly. "And that was all? You never loved me —never meant to marry me?" "Why, no, how could 1? lamto be married in the fall to a man in New York—" A snarl like that of an infuriated beast interrupted her. Livid wi»h rage, he sprang toward her. Once again he crushed her, shrinking and trembling, to hi* breast, then dragged her to the very edge of the canyon, gaping like the bottomless pit to receive them. And as her agonized screams pierced the soft summer night, W'eatherby, still holding her against his outraged heart, stepped off. They found them next day in the bottom of the canyon. Violet's lovely face was past recognition, but on Weatherby's lingered a huiile of such awful triumph as would have pleased the arch-fiend himself.—Truth. Fond of It. "That girl in front of us is very fond of opera," said the young woman at the theater. "She must be," replied the young man. "From the size of her hat you'd think she was afraid some of It might get past her."—Washington Star. In Partnership. A pair of wandering Willies sought All labor hard to shun— Two soula with but a single thought, Two tramps that beat as one. —Atlanta Journal. MALICIOUS INSINUATION. "And how old Is your husband, madam?" "Forty years, professor; there's a dif ference of ten years between ua." "Dear, dear! I really wouldn't have taken you for fifty."—Fliegende Hlaet tcr. Her Method. "Mrs. Brown never sits up to wait for her husband." "No?" "No. When she expects him to be out late, she retires early, seta the alarm at three o'clock, and geta up, re freshed and reproachful." —Life. A New Version. Ilrown (to the newly-married)— Struck the mother-in-law snag yet, Jonca? Jones—Yep. You see she's my wife's stepmother, handsome, and they're about of an age. Jee whixl I daant even look cross-eyed at her. —Judge. An Krf<!«ot Error. llinka—Miaerloigh told a gi>od story at his own u*pense to-day about — Jinks—Hold on. Are you sure it was at his own expanse? Detroit Free Press. Of a Higher Value. Son—Father, la the position of sen ator higher than that of congressman? Father—lt comes higher, my boy.— Puck. ller Choice. "As between Dick aud Harry which do you like beat?" "Jack." —Judge. No sn IMPROVEMENT. BECOMING A NECESSITY. The Demand for Good Koads Is X® Longer a Mere Fad. Good roads, good country roads, are becoming more and more a necessity of the day and age. The advent of thg bicycle has created a demand for good roads among a class which before ita advent had little oare for oouutry roads. The probable early advent of horseless carriages will tend to empha size that demand and will add to the fast growing good-roads army. To the farmer good roads ever havp been a necessity, which, alas, he has had In too many instances to get along with eut In 1803 the agricultural depart ment of the federal government made an investigation into the road question. The object of that Investigation was to secure some reliable information con cerning the cost of motive power to farmers and how affected by country roads. The first thing learned waa that there were on United Btates farms 53,393.858 draught animals, of which 14,213,837 were li >rses, 2,331,607 mules and 36,840,021 oxen, having a total value of $1,721,M5,708. In other words, to do their hauling the A FALLACIOUS ARGUMENT. " Our Taxes Are High Enough Now. and We Farmers Don't Propose to Build Roads for Them Byslcle Fellers to Ride Over." formers of the United States had In vested In round numbers, $1,750,000,000. That is a pretty large sum; If Invested at 5 per csnt Interest It would pro duce nearly 81,750,000 each week. Of these draught animals more than 16,500,000 are horses and mules, worth at a modest estimate more than 3100,000,000. Now, It costs to feed them on an average, one year | with another, about $4,000,000 a day,- but what is of greater Interest, Is thft estimate that bad roads cost the farm ers 87 5 a year for each horse and mule, in his service. Taking this estimate as a basis it will be seen that the farm ers pay each year for bad roads 8348,- 182,400. That is, if l'rof. Latt's, of Per due university, estimated cost of recon structing bad roads over into good ones is to be taken as a basis, the bad roada of the country cost the farmers enough each year to build 216,5d4 miles of good roads. If built in a straight line that number of miles of road would clo the world nearly nine times, and; would cross and recross the United' States about fifty times. Bicyclist* must have good roads If they would have the full enjoyment of their wheels, the horseless carriages must have goed roads, and over and above all the farmer more than either must have good roads; therefore if these elements would unite as one insistent and intelligent whole for good roads,: no state legislature would dare to Ig nore so universal a request.— Grand" Rapids (Mich.) lierald. WOMEN AND GOOD ROADB. j Grand Work Done by Twenty Pretty New England Olrle. Ten years ago no one dreamed that would ever come when women Ing the condftjon Of the pftUUa thoroughfares. But the bicycle which is responsible for such a general stir ring up of old conclusions has really set them to thinking on this very topic. And when a woman thinks she's very likely to act. Just one weak little woman's momentary impulse will often result In more real purpose being ac complished, than will a three days'con vention of wise old professors whoso excessive prudence is a positive prohi bition to progress. It is said that twenty pretty bloyole girls of East Lynn, disgusted by the disgraceful condition of the public roads in those parts, determined to In stitute a radical reform. They turned out in full force with picks, shovels and rollers, and repaired the woast of the road. When the bloomered beauties finished their week's work they pointed with pride to several miles of road which they had made fit for wheeling. In Cincinnati recently one hundred women armed with brooms, hoes, wheelbarrows and shovels began early one morning to clean the streets. From early in the morning until sun set the women tolled and one of the principal streets of the city was cleaned as bright as a new dish pan. Whenever a street-cleaning official came along that way he was loudly hissed. It was an object lesson which it would seem can hardly fall to have its effect. If the wopieo of this broad land seri ously take up the matter of good roads and clean streets something definite and immediate will be*the result, be cause woman is a determined creature and "if she will, she will; and there's an end on't." —Good Roads. Wide Tire Legislation. The extent to which the value of wide tires has come to be recognized is shown by the fact that during the last twelve months the legislature of near ly every state has been asked to pass a bill providing for their compulsory adoption. The state of New Jersey has already adopted a law of this kind, and it is reaping the benefit in the pos session of the best roads in the coun try. With wide tires in use even the present country roads will improve, for tires serve as rollers to make the road-bed compact instead of cutting deep ruts as do heavily loaded wagons on narrow tires. A Mini for Her. The villain gnashed his gloaming teeth with the grating sound of the breaking up of an ice gorge. "Ha! 1m 1 my proud beauty," he hissed. "I will yet bring you to the dust!" The proud beauty smiled a wan little smile. "Never," she twittered. "You are on the wrong tack. The man to win me must bring the dust to me." —Cincin- nati Tribune. Gratifying. "That boy of yours, madam," re marked the ticket inspector, as he punched the linlf-fare ticket, "looks re markably well developed for a child under twelve." "Thank you," replied the lady, calm ly. "It's so gratifying to me to have anyone notice Tommy's remarkable pre cocity." The inspector was crushed and said nothing more.—London Fun. Good Trait. Jack—There is one thing I like about old maids. Harry —What? Jack—They don't say they did this or that "lonir before you were born."— —N. Y. World. Kirlanlv*. Mllicent —They say that Mrs. Benton by is very exclusive. Miriam (whom she anulis)—Yes. 1 hear that some of her teeth even don't move in the same set as the others. — Judge.