Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, August 29, 1895, Image 1

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    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.