"V O LXXXII Silver Ware Free! Handsome: triple plated hand engraved Teapots, Cakestands. Fruit stands. Butters, creams, Spoon holders, molasses, sudors, asturs, Porcelain and alarm clocks and < th»i articles both ornamental and useful. Call in and inspect the ware. GET A CARD. Purchase you overcoat for Men, Boys and Children. Suits, Pants, Hats, Capes, Underwear, Shirts, Collars, Cuffs, Ties, Suspenders, ; Gloves, Mits, Overalls, Jackets, Sweaters, Umbrellas, Trunks Valises, Telescopes, Watches. Chains, Charms, Rings, Pins. Brushes, Pocket ano Bill-books,Purses,etc. and when your purchase amounts to $15.- 00 you get your choice of any of the above articles. Our Stock is complete, And Styles correct. Quality the best, And prices the lowest, j . D. A. HECK, No 131. N.Main St, BUTLER, PA. DA Hint Now Q V and Then! y We tell a great deal about this store, but not all. Hints only are • possible, and its better <;o; otherwise you would lose much of the pleasure of discovery. A HINT: If you want something new and stylish in hootwear come to us. We have every new style and the best of the old ones. It you want something for service, you are looking for our waterproof "Service" line for Men, Women and Children. No better at anj price. WE'RE AS CAREFUL in buying the least thing we sell as though the store's success depended on it. And it does. A chain is 110 stronger than its weakest link; a stcre is 110 better than the worst bargain you get in it. Nowhere else such bargains as can be found » at laL. RDFF & SON, i \j/ BUTLER, PA, \rj B. & B. - Mwocoti^SPC I *** * Jackets, Capes, Furs, Silks and Dress Goods. Hundreds of the people who read this paper come to the city to do their Holi day shopping, and we ask all who con template such a visit this year to come - to this store. Great Preparation has been Hade, And the collection of Novelties, Cut Glass and Silver articles. Art Pottery, Lamps, Toys, Books, Fancy Stands, Pictures, etc., as well as the More Substantial Gifts Women's, Girls' and Boys' Garments, and goods to make them. Rugs, Portieres, Table Covers and Innumerable other articles suitable for the purpose, such as Gloves, Handkerchiefs, Hosiery, Neckwear and the like, Are si'ch as will make it well worth your while, and the price at tached to each and every article, whether the least valuable or the „ richest and most elegant, are figured 011 a basis that must prove it's to the interest of your pocket book. This store means to double its usual Holiday business, and the ex tensive .assortments of nice goods and prices appealing to the better judgement of the people at large will accomplish it BOGGS & BUHL, ALLEGHENY, PA. jlpi v .. The place to buy GAS COOKING STOVES AND BURNERS. GAS LAMPS FIXTURES, HOSE, WATER FILTERS. BATH TUB ENAMEL etc, is at J W. H .O'Urieii & Soil's 1 07 East Jeitorson street. . Harness Shop! Harness of all Kinds Made to Ordei. Repairing a Specialty, AND PROMPTLY ATTENDED TO. BLANKETS AND ROBES. CASH PAID FOR HIDE. Np. in East Cunningham St., - - BUTLER, A (The old Times Office.) FRANK KEH PER, Agt. THE- Ml T1.1.R CITIZEN. Makes the Weak Strong Hood's Sursapnrilla tunes and str-r ngt hens the digestive organ-, '.r««les an appetite, 4 and gives refreshing -leep. £cfiMCL^--r Hood's Sarsaparilla Is the one True Blood Purifier. Hood s Pill- I w AIR [-FASHIONS, ASCINATiNG 1 ALL A BR ICS. OUR stock tables are fil'ed with every new style j and every becoming design ; in the materials of Clochs dom, that good form demands, and good taste can suggest. IT is not our goods j alone that are attractive, j Our low prices add to the | combination. That is why ; Economical People are our best customers. WE don't ;ry how cheap we can make clothes (that is easy) but how jjood we can make their to give you the best value poss ible at the least possible price ALAND, Tailor. BURTON'S NEW STORE Is still the talk of tlie town, notli ing but the most favorable comments on our method of doing business Our Customers DELIGHTED. Wc Aim to Plciisc. We sell goods only for cash. One price to all. It will do you good to see our line ol $7, $8,59,510,$ 1 2,$ 1 1 >&s>o Overcoats 120 S. MAIN ST., BUTLER, PA. It's All In The Making. rMI whether clothes fit well or net. That ts where we excel. Whether we succeed or not you can judge by the fact that the best dressed men in Kutler almost with out exception patronize us. Poorly Made Clothes always look cheap while those well made have an elegant appear.- 1 uce. The clothes we make arc put together thoroughly. No slop shop work is tolerated. Try us, and see if we do not answer this description. Cutting Your Cloth to suit the size and shape is a good tiling to push along, also the cutting of our prices to suit the de mands of the public. You'll be astonish ed at the low prices at which wc are mak ing up our large and elegant stock of Foreign and Domestic Woolens. Call and examine our large stock. COSPi I CO Cor. Diamond, Butler, Fa C. ~D. |Upder° | iVear j§ 'V fv! ~ ! Points | £-> 00 -v •*" in. k&tioi) ©2 cv > g§ rv: §2 cv, cv -Nj >: " ■ ■ ommmiuwmtS All grade of rnderwear at very low prices. Largest stock of hats and furnishings for gentleman in the country. An inspection will prove this to any ones satisfacture. Colbert 6c Dale. " 242 S, Main St., Butler, Fenn'a. BTTTLTCR. FA.,TiII T JiSD VY. DECEM HER V 2, 1895. J avst[Mfi~-— ; V&S7* **" vUl': PHI-'f'jhi:. .( coPvß>6<rr. 1895. BY THZ IUTMJ*. CHAPTER XIII. Tho first day was over, but it seemed to me that something more must come; that what I had gone through could mean the life of a day must surely l>e impossible. Was there nothing before me but isolation so complete that no whisper from the ontside world conld reach me—that world which, compared with the death into which I was being absorbed, seemed the only world of the living? Had I actually nothing to look for but the most repulsive work under the most repulsive conditions? I said there must be surely some change; that wheel ing mud forever was not the doom of any man and could certainly not l»e mine. I looked about my little cell, the still ness of the grave without, the utter soli tude within. The untouched ration which formed my supper was on the table —eight ounces of black bread. Try as I might to cheat myself with hope I i knew that hope for many a loug year I there was none; that, so far as the most vindictive sentence could compass it, for many a long year the earth with her bars was about me. No "De profuudis" cry could ever as- ■ ceud from tho abyss lo the bottom of j which I had fallen. What was outside of me had nothing but the hideous. But although tho visible seemed cor- j rnption and the things which my soul | and body, too, had refused to touch were j become my sorrowful meat, yer I could \ not but feel that the invisible, that part ; of me which no bars could hold and no man deprive me of, was still my own, j and that in it I might and would find ■ sufficient tosupport what I began to feel was. after all, the only man. To face the actualities of the position was the first thing; not to cheat myself, the second. I had seen the sort of men I was to be with. I set to work to study and to understand the kind of life we were to live together. At early dawn we rose, receiving im mediately after the nine ounces of bread aud pint of oatmeal gruel which com posed breakfast; at 6 ::!0 to chapel to hear ouo of the schoolmasters drone through the morning prayers of tho Eng lish church service and listen to some hymn shouted out from throats never accustomed to such accents. Then the morning hours would (hag slowly on iu j the summer's sun aud winter's blast uu- | til tho uoon hour; then there was the j long march back from the scene of my j toil to the prison for dinner. Arriving j there, each man went to his cell, closing 1 his door, which snapped to, having a j spring lock. Soon after a dinner is given, Consisting of 16 ounces of boiled potatoes j and five ounces of bread, varied 011 three days of the week with five ounces of j meat additional. At 1 o'clock tho doors were unlocked, arid we marched out to our work again. At. night, returning to tins prison, eigiit ounces of black bread would be doled out for supper. Then came the hours between supper and bed time, when, shut in between those nar row wails, one realized what Tt was to I bo a prisoner. In the corner of the cell there was a board let into the stonework that served as bed, table and chair. There was a thin pallet and two blankets rolled up together during the day in a corner of the cell that served for bedding, but so thin and hard was the pallet that one might almost as well have slept ou the board. For the first few weeks this bed made mv boues ache. Most men have little patience and small fortitude, and this bed kills many of tho prisoners—l mean breaks their hearts simply because they have not the wit to accept the mat ter" philosophically and realize that they can soon become used to any hard ship. It took six months for my hones to become used to the hard bed, but for tho next 19 years I used to sleep as sweetly on that oak board as I ever did or now do in a bed of down, only, like Jean Yaljean in "Lcs Miserables," I had becomo so used to it that upon my liberation I found it impossible for a time to sleep iu a bed. I have related how the Sunday after my sentence in my despair I took the little liible off tho shelf. The other books I had at Chatham besides tho Bi ble were a dictionary and "The Life of the Prophet Jeremiah. " Once, soon aft er my arrival in Chatham, I took the Jeremiah down from the shelf, but speedily put it back and made a vow never to take it down again, and I never did. It remained in view on the little shelf for IS) years while I sat there watching it rot away. The dictionary is a good book, but grows tiresome at times. I thought in my enthusiasm I should uever tiro of tho Bible, but after 10 or 12 years I began to grow weary of it and grew hungry for other mental food. I wanted Shakespeare, for with him to keep mo company I could no longer bo iu tho desolation of solitude. At last I determined to get my friends to try for me. I had learned tho Biblo almost by heart. Tho smallest incidents in the life of tho Prophet Jeremiah were much more familiar to mo than tho history of tho civil war, and Anathoth took on proportions which made it as real as Now York and far more important. Tho desperate efforts I had made to keep my self from falling into tho condition of so many I had seen drooping to idiocy and death were, I felt, successful, aud any occupation which kept alivo the in tellect could not but be beneficial. I was hungry, starving, for mental food. Nev er had books appeared so attractive, never was kingdom so cheerfully offered for a horse as I would have offered mine 1 for an octavo. My friends had written for mo to tho government, but with uo success. At last they had interested the American minister iu London, who promised to write to tho home secretary for me, but a year had slipped by, and I hail heard nothing. Jeremiah continued wi' u me, and it seemed lio was to remain with me to tho end. But a change was coming. Can I ever forget the day it happen ed? Can I ever cease to remember the delight, the incredulity, the astonish ment of that happy day? I had conio in at night hungry, cold, wet and miser able. I made my way a little depressed to my cell. As I was about to step across the threshold I saw a book lying on my little wooden bed. Amazed and astounded, I hesitated to enter. Small as such a circumstance appears, tho very sight of the book MSfiglit on a weak ness. I feared to pie., it up; ah< rrible dread seized me that it might be a new Biblo, and I was unwilling to risk an other disappointment. The footprint 011 tlie sand was not more suggestive nor more awe inspiring to Robinson < 'rusoe than the appearance of that book was to me. Iu mood as lonely, in plight as des perate as his, there lay before me a sight as unlooked for and, as it seemed, as full of meaning as the footprint was to Robinson. At last I pulled myself together, de t. riniued to end the suspense aud know what was before me. I picked up the book, and who can understand the de light, tho joy, tho rapture even, with which I read < u the title page, "The Works of William Shake spear.;." In an instant I became a new man. If ever one human being felt gratitude to an other, 1 felt it at that moment for the American minister. Tu him I owed it t„_» henceforth a new light was to -tr uu through the fluted glass of my wind w. that henceforth a new world was opened up for me to live in, and (he world seemed lighter to me. Many :i month and year afterward my cell was filled and my heart cheered by the multitude of friends the divine William provided for me About the time I received my Shake speare another piece of happy fortune lie fell iae. A smallpox scare was existing outside, and all hands iu the prison were ordered to lie vaccinated. When the doctor came around a few days aft erward to examine tho effects «>f the operation, he found my arm so swollen that ho directed me to be taken to the hospital. For 25 days I had full opportunity to learn what the girl in Dickens' "Littie Lorrit" meant when she called tho hos pital a " 'eavenlv" place. It was tho first time I had ever been admitted, aud tho change from the horrible adholo to the rest and comfort of a < 111 the hospital was indeed almost " 'eavenlv." With nothiug to do but to read mv Shakespeare, the cravings of hunger for tho first time since my imprisonment satisfied. I was tempted to believe—l did partly believe—that tlie world had few positions pleasauter than mine. Godliness with contentment is un doubtedly great gain. Contentment alone without the godliness is no poor thing, and was I not content? Few in deed of all the thousands who have toil ed in that torturing prison house have ever been or are likely ever to be so content as I was. How true it is that happiness is al together relative, and that it is divided much more evenly among men we are willing to believe! A mere respite from an intolerable position, a single book to keep the mind from cracking, transformed gloom and misery into light and at least comparative happiness. After a time 1 began to watch the ef fect of the unnatural life upon others. They arrived full of resolution, buoyed often by hopes which they were soon destined to find delusive. The short ti me men, those with seven or teu year sen tences, could face the prospect hopefully. To them the day would come when the prisou gate must swing back and the path to the world be open once more. But no such hope cheers the long timers, the men with 20 years and life, who quickly learn how great the proportion is of their number who find relief only in the box smeared with black which incloses what is left of *!ieui in the grave. Every day I used to see the ef fects ou them of hunger and torment of mind. Tho first part visibly affected was tho neck. Tho flesh shrinks, disap pears and leaves what looks like two ar tificial props to support the head. As time wears oa the erect posture grows bent. Instead 01 standing up straight the knees bulge outward as though un able to support the body's weight, and tho nam drags himself along iu a kind of despondent shuffle. Another year or two, trd his shoul ders are beut forward. Ho carries his arms habitually before him uow; he has grown moody, seldom speaks to any one nor answers if spoken to. In tho general deterioration of the body tho mind keeps equal step, and so unfailing is the effect that even warders wait to seo it and re mark to each other that So-and-so is "going off. " When tho sufferer begins to carry his arms in front, every 0110 un derstands that the end is coming. The projecting head, tho suukeu eye, the fixed, expressionless features aro merely tho outward exponents of tho hopeless, sulleu brooding within. Sometimes the man merely keeps ou in that way, wast ing more and more, body and mind, every day until at last he drops and is carried into the infirmary to come out no more. During all th<s6o years I never saw my companions. Mao had been sent to Port laud, Noyes to Portsmouth and George to Dartmoor. After 1883 strenuous efforts were made for our release. My sister came to Englandfliat year and remained permanently there. She worked bravely and well, but year after year passed without result. Nouo of us was prepared for tho vindictive fury of tho Bank of England. Its power was all potent with the government. George had been bedridden for years and was slowly dying. At length in 1887 the medical officer of the prison certified his speedy death was certain, and the gov ernment released him to die, but 110 re solved that he would not die until I was free. With liberty and hope health came slowly back, and he devoted every hour to working for my liberation, but for a time ho devoted it in vain. More than onco had I seen the prison emptied and filled again. Of all the life prisoners I had met there on my arrival or who for yoars after had joined mo I was the solo survivor. One by one sickness or insanity born of despair had laid them in the prison graveyard or buried them in the asylum. Out of more than 70 none had lived to be liberated, and determined appeared tho Bank of England directors that I should not form an exception, but that if ever tho prison doors were opened to me it should bo only when so near death that I might join the many who had gone before. Mv fate seemed inevitable, but never for a moment did I cease to believe that fortune's frowns would 0110 day disap pear and that I should yet again feel tho warmth and sunshine of her smile. From his sickbed and in his health George never ceased his efforts. He suc ceeded in interesting James Russell Lowell and many others in my behalf. Tho president asked the English gov ernment officially to grant my release. Mr. Blaine, the secretary of state, sent a very strong letter through Minister Lincoln, in Loudon, and I thought when told of it that my day to go was not far away. It will interest Americans, perhaps, to learn that the representations of the president and of the secretary of states of the United States met the same cour tesy as was shown to all the previous ones. Still my brother was not discour aged. He sent agents to England, who managed to interest the newspapers in tho matter, and never did he cease un til by tho statements of the press upon the ferocity of my treatment, the re proaches of my friends and the repre sentations of many 1 had never seen tlie l»onie secretary felt the pressure and was forced to order my release. #**##* "Thou shalt forget thy misery and remember it a- . .iters that j.as> way. Twenty years had passi d av. ay since I had bade my friends goodby under the Old Bailey, and now 1893 had c mie. It was .i f. -ty February night. and I was al ne in that little room, with its arcu .l . i ..7 .<1 I:' 1'1: _*! . . : i-' lii- U(> ad settled down on all thf* in mnw, when suddenly there came tlio noise of hurrying feet that efeboed strangely from the arched r if as the warders tramped loudly <ll the stone floor of the long hall. A rush of feet, or indeed anything that broke the lit .r --riblo stillness at that hour, V.as star tling. They were the feet of the r. -crve guard, which was never called in save when the patrol who glided around the corridors in slippered feet discovered some suicide. Many a heartbroken man had I known iu that 20 years who in his despair ended his misery thus. While wondering wl»< 1 the unf >rt .mate could be I heard their steps in anting the stairway leading to my lauding, and then a sudden thrill shot through me :is they turned down the corridor toward my cell. My heart stood -til! as I thought, Can they be coming for tne? I had a sudden frenzy of fear that they might pass my d> or; but, no, they came straight on, halted, and Ross, a princi- II | g* \ 1 -^ i T! r 'V / T . m lv• K- • 1 HI \ v \ r.&*~ "You're free."' pal (jflieer—l had known him 20 years —gave a thundering rap on my door and shouted, "I want yon." Then a key rat tled in the lock, the door was thrown open and three friendly faces looked in. Faint, deadly white, trembling like a frightened child, I started to my feet, trying to speak, but no sound came from my lips for a moment. At last I stam mered, "What's the matter?" Ross thrust his form through the door, and with face close to mine he said the thrilling words, "You're free!" I cried, "I don't believe yon," and Ross said, "Come on. my boy; it's all right. " Like one iu a dream I passed out through tho door of that little cell whose grim, narrow walls had frowned on me for a score of years and had in vain tried to crush my spirit. Still like one in a dream I went down that long hall, listening only to the strange sound of my own footsteps and saying to myself: "It is all a dream. I shall awake, as I have from thousands of like dreams, aud find myself again iu mv dungeon." I was led into the outer office, where some papers were read to mo and then others given me to sign, but I listened or signed like one in a maze. Suddenly I saw Ross thrust the key into the outer door. That roused me, and tho thought flashed into my mind. Now I shall see a star. The heavy door rolled on its hinges; the ponderous gate was flung bac-k. Step ping out, I intuitively looked up, and a sudden awe fell upon me, for there, like a revelation, shone the milky way with its millioned arch of radiant suns. At the sight of that miracle to glory my heart beat fast. I realized that I was free, with health and strength, with courage to begin again the battle of life, and in my irrepressible emotion I cried aloud—and my cry was like a prayer— "God is good!" THE END. Convincing Kvi<lence. t«=O , "What a handsome dog ! He must be valuable." "Yer bet 'e is. De man wot I bought 'im of's offerin S:JO reward 'f I brings 'irn back."—Truth. Universal. She—l really don't think I shall take part again in theatricals. I always feol as though I were making a fool of my self. He—Oh, everybody thinks that!— Pick Me Up. liar Ilelief. . A Damp tllcUilon. A. /? Uto j \ ; V, ' >< . Mr. Gallant—Oh. miss, can I be f service to you and ifer the protectiot of my umbrella? There's slit Iter f ; two. If ■ v And now he's "sorry 110 spoke. Philadelphia Times. Cutting. JM* * mIJP -15/ Mr. Snippy—Your little boy stronglj reminds me of yon. Mr. Seediman—lndeed! But—el ite's only my stepson— Mr. Snippy—Oh, I don't mean tin face, but the overcoat, you know! It % tho same p.itteiii as the ulster y< ti stil owe for.—Ally Sloper. Classified. r-"V ~ii . «ojijr Ella—ls Charlie a blond? May—Woll—er—yes; he is light headed.—Brooklyn Life. \ The Old, Old Story. Jack (of the slums) —If an honesi heart— Flossie (of Fifth avenue, who li.i» lost her way)—Do not detain me. I an. anxious to l.nd my way home befoi dark. Do 1 t repeat your avowals, can never be more than a sister to yon, Jack, our stations in life are so different Jack (sorrowfully)— Aye, it's the ol refrain—wealth versus poverty. Y< , live on chicken, and I—l livo 011 hash >_ —Truth. CO UC *Bl®. §T- —Life. i *•««> A Testimonial. ■ Ifel J V la .'■ 5 >? ! ! <U f "Once more, praise to heaven," cried Joan of Arc, "the English are put to rout. I am full weary, for I have fought much since daybreak. My new suit of bifurcated ariie r is a treasure. I cer tainly could never have driven the Brit ish butchers back had I teen hampered by my old skirts. Steel bloomers for me every time, I say."—Referee. A THKIPPENNY TOKEN. IIY IHOHA3 v HE custom f 3 L splitting six ■*- r*- |»-nc or other small coins l>e {■ tween lovers is *sSj| W* \» useless, super- B U flnous and dau- j pe rous. I'seles* I .» because a halt er sixpence does not preserve love, or you arc very weak-ininded if y:>u need such a pre servative: superfluous because it does not express love —nobody will argue about that—and dangerous—well, dan gerous beeau-e everything useless and superfluous is dangerous, and par ticularly because everything senti mental is dangerous. It was not a sixpence that I split with Marian, but a silver tliree-ccnt pieee—one of the old silver bits, with a 111 and a big C. I found it in a handful of change one day. one of the early days of our acquaintance, and though it was then a very presumptu ous step to take I had it cut in half, bored with two little holes aud fitted (the halves) with two little gold rings. Then I gave one half to Marian and when she accepted it my heart punched me joyfully in the ribs, (loose that I was! 1 believe geese nro myopic. 1 affixed my half of that three-ceut piece to the key-ring of my watch chain. At first I regarded it as a veritable charm against ail the evils, cares and mortalities of this sinful world. Later I grew more accustomed to it. but I never quite ceased to con sider it a fetish. Marian's half dis appeared for a time, and though morti fied I did not dare ask after it. Later —oh. much later—it reappeared once more. I could make a separate story out of the later reappearances of that dear little bit of silver. The first time I saw it again it slipped down, unob trusively and unconsciously, attached to a thin gold bracelet, out of a soft sleeve. I did not dare to seem to no tice it, but I could not manage to look unconcerned, and all at once there was n blush and the bracelet was suddenly and hastily restored to its hiding place up the sleeve. After that the half-threepence grew bolder; it showed itself on a watchguaril and on other bracelets; for a time it seemed to pos sess barometric properties anil would indicate what the weather had bjen and was going to be; but at last it finally returned to the gold bracelet and was left to exhibit itself or no without diffidence as chance might di rect. It was one day during this period that Marian requested it to be demon strated to her that I was still in j>os session of inv h i'l' of the threepence. I pulled it out of my pocket, and It was then, as the little silver thintf lay in her soft white palm, that she swore me never to part with it and to cherish it as the one indissoluble bond between us. I took it quite as scriotis lv as she could have wished and en tered fully into the solemn spirit of the ceremony, for you may guess whether I was not flushed with happiness. I had not believed ttiat she set such store by my first gift to her. "While you wear it" she said, "I shall always keep my promises to you. But if you part with it in any way 1 shall never forgive yon—and I will not not —1 will not care for you as you wish me to. Remember, I have warned you." That is the first half of the story. Anybody can guess how the second half begins. I lost that wretched, ill fated bit of silver. How. I don't know; nor can it matter now. Marian begged me to have it riveted to my key ring. I meant to take her advice but neg \uf v> # ii ff if 1 |f Iff ' ' '! 1 1 W - '' THERE BEFORE MY EYES I.AY THE OB JECT I WAS 3EEKIXO. lected the matter, until one day, on passing a jeweler's shop, the half threepence popped into my head. ''l will have it riveted at once!" I said to myself I entered the shop well satis fied with my diligence. My excite ment and pallor when I discovered my loss created a sensation among the salesmen and customers. The impres sion gained that I had been robbed of diamonds at least, and I did not daro to correct it I scratched myself then and there before them all to the verge of impropriety, and subsequently sub jected my ofiicc aud my bedroom to a scrutiny which would have made the Russian police turn pale with envy; but might as weil have been looking for the ten lost tribes. Do what 1 might 1 could not find that fatal fif teen mills' worth of white metal, and I il > not expect th;>t I shall ever see it again* I may add that I do not wish to. il.'.vi : ; .t least nerved myself tofaee ii -1. .v. 'i ! next? one alleviating circum st to: •. Mari iu had gone on t> . .si nwit'i the M ilea-Stand* . . .. iv givin.T dinners, and • i . i i. Coitoa-Mather • . ,i ' 11 r.iees for her. I ... d li've a respite : 1 c >r • le ection was • '•••• that time s!ie would • t > read the lost and fonnd columns in the New York news papers (oh, yes, I advertised—on prin ciple), and I should be able to carry out the felonious subterfuge which immediately suggested itself to me, with comparatively little fear of detec tion. The subterfuge was to procure an other three-cent piece, have that cut in half, hang the substituted token on my watch chain (rivet it. this time), and present a virtuous ana undisturbed brow to the world. If I wcrn permitted I could easily write a novel on my experiences dur ing the next three days while I was seeking for that threepence. lam not permitted. All I may do is to strive to convey the impression of haste, de spair, constant movement, confusion as to time and place, sense of oppres sion, bewilderment, noise, bustle, ob livion of identity—to dash these in with a few strong strokes, so to speak. 1 tried all the means suggested by my numismatic (and philatelic)counselor. I believe I even addressed a letter to the Philadelphia mint, which respectfuly referred me to somebody—or some where—else. The bridge and the ele vated railroads I expanded into banks, savings banks, ferry companies and street car railways; and goodness knows what other incorporated mctods of gathering up the small change of a people, their treasurers and cashiers, did I visit modestly, dep recatingly, anxiously, one after the o;Jaer. I don't suppose X shall be be- lot w 11 to be in the o:ty f Now York »ac single throe cent, piece in circulation or on deposit. I will srive. simply by name, other p'.a i r pers-ns incln .oil in my quest: Newst \ . 1 >t backs. newsboys' homes, apple women, river-front restaurants, telegraph otliees, soup-houses, candy '• ' I P f » -r I TOLD ITER EVERYTHING. stores, drug stores, exchange 5 . ;crs, curiosity shops, pawnbrol: r.. dime museums and bootlace v id ,-s. I vas everywhere unsuccossfi and 'lally another numisruatst sai l to mi "You see, when people pet nold of those coins they keep them for pocket pieces or have them cut in half for tokens." I iJcfran to believe him. None the less, however, shall I ever remember with gratitude the sympa thy of the proprietors of the nickel-in the-slot inachin s. They begged me to wait. It could not be long before a silver three-pence was parsed for a nickel. Alas! fate was against me. At last Sunday came. Weary and broken in spirit I went to chureh (a promise to Marian>. The collection was taken up I sit directly l>ehincl the venerable Ed ward Edwards, llis venerable purple hand trembled over the velvet-lined plato. When the vestryman moved on to me. there before my eyes lay the ob ject I was seeking. It was old, it was worn and shiny, its edges were scal loped—it was the very twin of my own. After service 1 visited the vestry and effected an exchange. I leave the casuistry of my action to others; but it is a fact that gratitude for the provi dential assistance I had received to ward my contemplated subterfuge im pelled me to a thank offering, and the heathen were spiritually richer to the extent of one dollar and ninety-seven cents after the exchange was com pleted. The next morning 1 took the three pence to the jeweler's shop to be cut iu half. I still had my tremors, for suppose Marrian took a fancy to com paro the supposed halves and they did not lit? However, this was a remote contingency; I could even devise means to provide against it On the whole. I felt like an esoteric Buddhist just relieved from an underground fast There is only one way to cut « coin in half -from top to bottom. Mine was the right-hand half; the jeweler riveted it on my chain after robbing the edges a little to make them seem not so freshly cut. Marian was to return the next day—Tuesday. It had been a narrow escape. And new 1 kiiow what you think happened. You think that when Ma rian returned my apprehensions were once more aroused by the peculiar manner in which she questioned me on the subject of my half of the three pence; that her manner convinced me that I was tot only suspected but found out; and that, at last, after en during untold agonies, I discovered that she had lost her own half—that Is your supposition. llow little you know Marian. What happened was this: I wore my counterfeit pledge for twenty-four hours with great satisfac tion to my soul. Hut when my dear girl came home and sat smiling beside me, the depths of my baseness were opened unto me, aud I saw how moan and black they were. I could not look into her eyes and deceive her. With out hesitating I told her everything. She heard me to the end without a word. Then she lifted her eyebrows slightly. "If you have lost your half," she said, disengaging her hand from mine, "it is absurd for me to go on wearing mine," and she pushed up her sleeve, drew off the bracelet and dropped it into a big Cloisonne bowl full of visit ing cards. "Jiir.." she went on, "did you really miss me?" —Ladies' Home Journal. Stwrlajr Clear of Sin. Milkman Johnny, did you put wa ter in the milk this morning? New Assistant —Yes, sir. "Don't you know that is wicked, Johnny?" "lint you told me to mix water with the milk." "Yes, but I told you to put the water in first and pour the milk into it. Then, you see, we can tell the people we never put water in our milk." — Texas Siftings. A Fair Partnership. Stranger—Boy,there's a dime museum somewhere around here, I understand. Do you know whera it is? Boy—Yessir. I wish I had a dime to get in. Stranger—Well, you conduct me to the place, and I'll give you the dime. Boy—All right That's a fair part nership. You furnish th' capital, an'l furnish th'brains. — N. Y. Weekly. Has It Come to This? We have boiled the hydrant water, Wc have sterilized the milk. Wo have stratned the prowling microbe Through the finest kind of silk: We have bought and we have borrowed Every patent health device: And at la9t the doctor tells us That we've got to boll the Ice —Chicago Record. TOO MICH COMPETITION. Tillie What are the wild wares saying? Willie—Can"', hear them. The bath ing suits are too loud. —St. Lotlis Re public. Disappointment. "He comes not" The forsaken bride wept amid the gorgeousness of the wedding feast. "lie comes not,' she wailed. They tried to toll her that he was un» worthy, but she heard them not. "Mv droums of wedded bliss—" Her voice rose to a shriek. " —are shattered. I will have to keep right on wearing shoes two sizes too small for me."—Detroit Tribune
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers