"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