VOL. XXXIII COME AND SEE US We are Located on South Main Street, Opposite Hotel Butler, r i In the room formerly occupied by Hartzell & J Kemper. We have received our spring stock j of Tans in different shades, Patent Leathers, \ Kangaroos, etc. Our stock of Ladies h ine ;*•. V Shoes and Oxfords is very large —all the latest 1 j£; style lasts to be found among our stock. We carry these goods in all sizes and widths, and prices the lowest. Come and see us. We aV have many bargains in store for you. i£: The variety was never so great, j ' / The styles were never so perfect, J / J The quality never so good, f il /' And the prices were never so low. | 11 I nr-T A FEW OF OLJK PRICES Ladies fine dongola pat tip ox fords Ladies fne serge congress gait 'Xkv '• ' Ladies grain shoes pat tij» heel Ladies waterproof oil grain y5 c Mens fine dress shoes lace or \ congress $ 1 00 v ** y Boys fine shoes.. . S7SC, sl,s i 25 Misses gocd wearing school Childrens fine dongola pat tip shoes Full stock of Leather and Findings. Shoemakers supplies of all kinds. All kinds of dressing for Dongola. Tan and Patent Leather shots at reduced pi ices. Mail orders receive prompt attention. JOHN BICKEL 323 South Main St. "Tn-mTs,. Butler Pa. FOOTWEAR! | B. C. H USELTON > Undeniably Shows the Largest Stock of Ladies > } and Gents Fine Shoes of the Latest and v S Most Stylish Patterns ever Displayed in V \ HAVE You SEEN THE V JWi 9 V J One of the most perfect shoes for C J M \A/ women ever made. Dark wine \ V m shade of Russia Calf, the latest C / tint; black eyelets, silk stitched. ? \ Ladies low 7 \ Wr\mQn'a 90 Tailor madc » 111 lacc ° r button - \ J TT Ollldll S &\J Russet or Dongola, Kid or Pat- \ ) fWitnrv SlinAQ ent Leatllcr Ti I JS - Wc sdl thcse 7 C OliUtro beautiful and comfortable shoes at C f our trade winning figures, $1.50, $2, ' \ WOMEN'S DONGOLA SHOES IN »]L j j \ MEN'S AND BOYS' TANS J S most fashionable shades, comfortable \ I lasts, pointed or derby toe, positively r / unequaled in Butler. Men's at $1.50, $2, $2.50, $3, $3 50, 1 J $4 and $5; Boys' at $1.35, $1 50 and $2; Youths' at $1.25, r liul Men's and Boys' Fine Shoes, c 1 KSSf O Plain, Square, Needle or Opera Toe; \ J a " widths, Calf at $2, $2.50, $3 and C V $3.50; Huff and A Calf at 90c, fl, 7 / OR I ENT *'* 2s anellus Credetnore, the best made / • j for the money—others get f 1 .23 and S C Misses 4 ildrens Spring-heel Shoes > f All the New Styles in Tail and lilack, I,ace or Button, Pointed or Square C 1 Toe, at 75c, fl, $1.25 and $1.50, sizes 12-2; Cliilds at 40c, 50c, 75c <1 and f £ $1.35, sizes BJ4-J t; Infants at !<*;, iSc, and 25c and 50c. \ f Come in and sec us and try our shoes. / S B. C. HUSELTON, °PP Hotel Lowry. ) in Style^ Saving Money* If you buy your Millinery at M. F. & M MARKS, Note these prices: Fancy Braid Hats at 25 cts, wortfi 50 cents- Finer Braid Hats 50 cts, the kind you have been paying 7; c ts for elsewhere. Newest shapes in Turbans, 50, 75cents and £1 bo Persian Ribbon 20 cents per yard, Black Satin Ribbon No. 60 only 30 cents per yard. THE BTTU'.K CITIZEN. Take Care Of your physical health. Build IIJ> your system, tone your stomach and digestive organs, increase your appetite, purify and enrich your blood, by taking Hood's Sarsaparilla The One True Blood Purifier, fl; 6 for ?5. Mr,.«-v.rl'o Dillc ~c, harmoniously with MOOO S rlllS Hood's Sarsaparilla !Sc Professional Cards. A. M. CHRISTLEY, ATIOKNEY AT LAW. OlTleeon North Diamond Stree'. opposite tlx [ Court House—Lower Floe. ALEX RUSSELL. Attorney-at-Lavv Ollice with Newton Black, Esq South Diamond, Butler, Pa. A. T. BLACK. Koom J—Armory Building. ATTORNKV *r LAW C. F. L. McQulstlon. ('] vIL RK» u M. at. t > H P. M DR. S. A. JOHNSTON. DENTIST, - - HUTLER, PA *,(? old Filling Painless Extraction ol Veet'i ud Vrtlßcial leotli without Plateau spet laity it.roJ.i Otldo or Vlt.tll/.rtd Air or iMca'. iso-1. Ortleo over Miller's Or>»::-v of Low: y oine. uricH •lotted .Ve 111 esdajsuiid "1 Ii irsd'. 18 DR. J. E FAULK Dentist. Office—ln Gilkey huildir.g opft sit. P, O. L. BLACK, PHYSICIAN ANI) SUIiUKON, New Troutiaan Bulldlne, Butler. Pa. Gv M. ZIMMERMAN. PHTSIOIAtI Office at N0."45. ,S. Vain street, r.vrr tit t Barmiu > ,But ler. Pa, c. % D. |UPDER~ 1 IWCAR 1 CXi OJ I Points 1 So Oo oo Ck; ex o«o — CXJ OO { fXJ CV CS-> u. Terms easy. Address R, F. CRAWFORD. , 1 Valencia, Pa. ItIJTLEK. PA., THURSDAY. MA.Y 7, 189<». OUR PROMOTED. We from our basement windows Look out with tears: Th*-y In thi- royal r hainhers Smile at our (ears We In the K&therfr.f. shadows Bow low In our srrlef: They. In the fadeless Rlory. Find sweet relief. We plead with falterlnp accents: "Help us to pray!" They, with a harp of triumph. Praiseth alway! We cry with bitterest yearning For His own rest; They with uttered frladness 1 Lean on His brea=t! f W"e, in the now, not knowing, Trust, though we die! They, In the sure Hereafter. Knoweth the why. We sleep and dream of rapture To wake heartsore; They, in the real eternal, Dreatneth no more! We, by and by, the portals Of Heaven shall win; They, with a love unchanging. Will bid us in. | —Rev. Frances K. Townsley. in Union Sig nal. WAS NEVER PUBLISHED. The rain fell relentlessly; the wind j that swept in through the Golden Gate 1 was piercingly eolil, ami the poor ! wretch toiling painfully up the deep 1 asphalt pavement staggered as he j walked and now and then stopped to steady himself, pressing with his trembling, hand against the buildings that he passed. His soiled, ragged clothes were soaking with the wet, and his emaciated features were pale as with the chill of death. When he had reached the summit of Xob hill he paused and wrapped his arm about itn electric light post at the corner, lean ing against it for the support his feeble frame needed so pitifully. A quick, firm step sounded on the pavement. "For God's sake, give me money to buy food!" said the wretch at the post. The quick step ased. "\\ hy don't you say drink, and speak the truth'/" said the man, running his gloved liana down Into the pocket of his fur-Plied overcoat. The glare of the electiic light shone full upon his handsome, florid face; the poor wretch caught his breath sharply and made a step for ward. The money which the man tossed into his outstretched hand gleamed a moment in his trembling palm, and in another rattled noisily upon the stones far out into the street. '"I want no gold of yours," said the wretch, with energy that shook his Whole frame. "I want, 110 gold of yours, Henry Mason." The man started; his florid fac® turned livid. "Who dares to call me Henry Mason? My name is Derwent. Thomas Der went," the man said, hoarsely, staring about him into the night. "You are out of reach of help just now, Ilenry Mason," said the wretch, with a laugh. "I saw the policeman from this beat running In an opium soaked Chinese a few moments ago. I believe my hour of reckoning has Come at last," "Who are you?" "You knew well enough 20 yeAis ago," the wretch answered. "Howard Scott! My God!" cried trie man. "Oh, I thought you would recall me," and the wretch laughed again. "What do you want?" asked the man, unbuttoning his coat. His voice was unsteady and his hand trembling. "Neither your money nor your life, Henry Mason," said the wretch, bitter ly. "They will do me no good now. Listen! You live near here. I know your house. Why on earth I never spotted you before is a mystery. Hut I think it was more your hard, cold voice than your looks tliat betrayed you." Scott pulled a pistol from li s hip pocket. The man caught its gleam in the light and started back. "Don't move," Scott interposed, calm ly. "you are not worth it, and my game is not yet played. Lead on to your house, and dare to budge one inch out Of the way at your peril. I want a quiet, warm place to do some writing. Per haps you did not know that I adopted a different profession after yoti ruined me and helped yourself to my money. I'm a special correspondent w hen I've life enough to be anything at all. I haven't made much of my life, as you see, but I can write." "If you want money tell me how much," Derwent said, hoarsely. "I told you I wanted no money of yours," said Scott, moving a step nearer. "I shall be paid enough for my night's job to tide over the few weeks of life that are left me. What I want is re venge and the chance to set myself right In the eyes of the world. You have robbed me of my life; that I cannot get back. You have stolen my money, as you did that of many others, and have saddled upon me a disgrace that should rest on your own shoulders. It was you who forged that draft, and not I, and you know it, though I served my term in the penitentiary for the crime. You call yourself a gentleman now, Henry Mason, and I am worse than a dog, but my hour hns come. Lead on home." The wretch had raised his voice al most to a scream and now waved the pistol in the air. The man walked on. glancing over his shoulder furtively. "I told you I should not kill you un less you tried to escape," said Scott, with a sneer. "If you speak to any passerby, however, you are a dead man on the word. Go on. The rest of the way was made in silence. Scott was close upon Derwent'!* heels when he mounted the marble steps of his stately mansion and turned the latch key. Within all was quiet, the wretch had counted on this; it was well past midnight. The gentle radiance Of the soft lights, the warm air of the elegant house almost overpowered him, but Derwent heard the click of the pis tol in his trembling hand and pushed open the library door. "So this is your home, Henry Mason?" said Scott, staring at him. "Not so loud, man, for God's sake!" cried Derwent. "So this is your home?" Scott pro ceeded, unheeding. "Not much like the prison cell that was my home for ten years, thanks to you, Ilenry Mason; not very much like the ratholes that make about the only home I know* now." "Whut do you want, man?" began Derwent, his hand finding his pocket again. "Pen and paper!" said Scott, fiercely, rousing himself and sinking into a chair at the writing table. "Now, do you sit there across the room from me. Move or speak at your own risk." Scott took the pistol in his left hand nnd began to write, yet keeping a close eye upon Derwent ail the while. By and by he read aloud: "San Francisco, Cal., Jan. 12, 1896. T. Henry Mason, alias Thomas J. Derwent, do hereby certify that I forged the note upon the Goldthwaite benk of New York city 20 years ago, tor which crime Howard Bcott stood accused. I declare said Scott Innocent; I alone am guilty." "Come, now, and sign your name, Straight goods; I know your signa ture, remember." "I will give you "SIO,OOO, s!.'>,ooo, j*2o,- 000--" began Derwent, eagerly. 1. "Sign." "Fifty thousand —" "Sign," and the pistol clicked. Derwent bent oyr the paper. "One hundred thousahc—anything, every thing—" "Write Henry Mason, alias Thon.nfl J. Derwent," said Scott. The man wrote staggering back from the table with a groan. "Vow, that part of the business is finished, ltesuine your scat, said Scott. "I want to do some writing on my own hook, and these are about as cozy quar ters as I can find. \ou are pretty well known at home, Henry Mason, if you diil shunt that forgery off on me, and it will add somewhat to the interest of my telegrams to state that they were written in your own handsomely-ap pointed library. When I have finished I shall use your telephone a moment. The boys at the station know me pretty well. A special correspondent comes to know a great many people, you know," lie said, with a short laugh, "and I shall have no difficulty in getting n man to take charge of you. Whatever else they know about ine they know I am no liar. After that my game is played." lie w rote on busily for an hour. At last he picked up the loose sheets and read aloud what he had written. He had told the truth -vhen he »uid l.e knew how to write. The story that h£ told of his own suffering for the crime of another would ha-.e made him fa mous, so full was it of dramatic power and graphic detail. At the first merci less headlines Derwent groaned aloud, but Scott went on pitilessly, telling the whole dark story of the man's crime. Meanwhile he sat with his head bow ed in his hands listening. He did not raise his head even when Scott rang the tele phone bell and ordered a man up frcin the station. The house of cards which it had taken him 20 years to build !iad tumbled about his head and he SKt bowed and broken among the ruins The passing moment® seemed hours of agony and despair. In the midst of it all there was a frou of skirts in the hall and the patter of slippered Cf-et on the hardwood floor. The door ojiened softly. "Is it you, father, dear?" a sweet voice asked, and Scott looked up to see a young girl standing In the doorway, the brass bolt still In her small white hand. She was a beautiful, sweet-faced young thing, and her dead gold hair was flung loosely back over her w*r*ip pered shoulders and a tender look of sleep was in her blue eyes. "I am so glad you have come, dear," she went on. rt l had gone to bed and was asleep, but I heard the telephone and fancied it must be you. I am so glad to see you, you sweet old papa, you." She had crossed the room and was kneeling beside him, her white arms about his neck. Derwent fanefed he heard a click of the pistol and looked up sharply*. Diit Scott threw a newspaper over his left haml and coughed softly behind his palm. "Oh, I beg your pardon, father," said the girl, springing to her feet. "I thought you were alone." There was not even a glance at Scott as she turned and left the room. Derwent uttered a stifled cry as the door closed. "Lucie!" But Scott had sprung to his feet. "At your peril," he said, jamming the pis tol under Derwent's nose. Your daughter, I suppose ?" he went "Yes," Derwent murmured. "How* old is she?" "Eighteen years." "Then she knows nothing of your dirty past?" "Nothing." "And believes In you?" "Yes," and the man groaned. "Then, God help her," said Scott, fervently. The heavy tread of the policeman was heard mounting the stone steps. Scott hesitated a moment; then, whip ping the pistol into his pocket, he snatched the closely-written sheets from the table and tore them into shreds. "So my game is ended," he said, with a laugh, as he stuffed the torn bits into ; the blazing grate. "Open the door and ( let the man in." Derwent hesitated. "Cowardl" salf Scott, between his teeth, but he opensd the door himself. The big policeman looked from one t? hall and putting her arm through hei father's when the door closed. "Mill-it did he want of you, dear?" "Money, of course, child," answered her father, hoarsely. "Well, I'm glad you telephoned for a policeman to take him away if he was troubling you." A man was reported dead at police station No. 10 the next morning. Thom as Derwent went into the little, wwhite washed, smoke-stained room and stood a moment looking into the pinched face of the dead man whose lips were closed forever. Then, buttoning up his fur lined overcoat, he went out again, breathing freely.—Philadelphia Times. Courtroom Impudence. There are some men whom it is dan gerous to deal with in any but the moet sober fashion. Such a man must have been old Tom LogtMi, an Oregon lawyer, and an inveterate vvftg. One day Logan was arguing a case before Chief Justice Greene, of the su preme court, of what was then the territory of Washington. Opposed to him was a backwoods lawyer named Browne. Logan continually referred to the counsel on the other side as if hiri name were spelled "Browny," to the evident annoyance of that gentleman. At last the judge interfered, remark ing: "Mr. Logan, this gentleman's name is spelled B-r-o-w-n-e, and is pronounced Brown, not Browny. Now, my name is spelled G-r-e-e-n-e. but you would not pronounce it Greeny, would you?" "That," replied Logan, gravely, but with a merry twinkle In his eye, "de pends entirely on how your honor de cides this ease." —Northwest Magazine —Here's a large mouth, indeed, thai spits forth death, and mountains, rocks and seas; talks as familiarly of lions, as maidens of 13 do of puppy dogs. What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? He speaks plain cannon, fire, smoke and bounce; he gives the bastinado with his tongue.—Shakespeare. —Hamilton, at the age of 16, wrote political essays that were credited by the general public to Jay. ARBUTUS. Where the wondlar.d shadows dim Are atretchtnK far and wide, Fnder leaves of rusty brown The dainty Mayflowers hide. Maples, in a rosy flush. Are waking from their dreams. Silver bright beyond the hill The winding river gleams; Rut sliyly hidden from the sight Beneath the moss and leaves. The loveliest blossom of the woods Her fairy magle weaves. Downy catkins touched with gold Each willow tree uplifts. Through the air like shining dust The amber pollen drifts. Lazily the yellow bees Are humming In the sun, Gayly down their pebbly paths The little streamlets run. But hidden from the careless eye. As love alone can tell. The daintiest blossom of the spring Has wrought her magic spell. Pinker than the pink wild rose In summer's golden light; Rosy as a sunset cloud Before the fall of night; As holy as the poet's thought. For words too pure and high; As fair as dreams of days to coxne. As dear as days gone by; As fragrant as a wandering breath From hea\enly worlds above— The loveliest blossom God has made Is bieathlng out His love. —Angelina W. Wray, in X. V. Independ ent. END OF THE RAINBOW. UV ELIZABETH A. MOOKK. Ever since Nelly could remember she had know n that anyone who could reach the end of a rainbow* before it fuded would find there great treasures. Janet, the nurse, had often told her so, and of course Janet knew. The stories did not always agree as to what these treasures consisted of, but whatever else there was or was not, the "pot of gold" was always sure to be there. Whenever Nelly had seen a rainbow, in her short life of five summers, she had been strongly tempted to hurry off and seek these wonderful riches; but Janet had always objected that the grass was too wet, or it was too near tea time, or given some other reason, so that the end of the rainbow had never been reached. But Janet had gone away now-, be cause something had happened, Nelly didn't know just what, that had made it necessary to dispense with a great many things they formerly had. First the pony and carriage had gone; and then Janet, who had lived with them ever since Nelly could remember, had kissed her a great many times and gone away too. And only a little while before she had heard pupa and mamma talking about something which worried them very much, and her papa said: "I'm afraid we will have to sell the place nnd move somewhere else. A few thousands of dollars would set every thing right, but I don't see where it's to come from, and we musn't go into debt." Nelly had not waited to hear what her mamma replied, but ran out in the garden in great grief. Sell the place, he had said, and move somewhere else! Why, Nelly couldn't bear even to think of such a thing. She loved every part of her pretty home with its roses climbing over the porch, and the cool, shady corners where the ferns and mosses grew. It was bad enough to lose Janet and the pony and the other things which she remembered they used to have and now did not have; but this was too much, and Nelly threw herself on the grass by her own little flower bed, where the big pink lady slippers that she had herself planted were just coming out, and wept. But not for very long, for, though such a little maiden, she saw- that tears would not solve this awful problem of what to do, so she dried her eyes on her apron and triad to think. A few* thousands of dollars would set everything right, her father hail said, but Nelly had no more idea of how much that was tliun her kitten Puff, wildly scampering around the lawn after his tail. There was Uncle Ben, that is, her papa's Uncle Ben, who w as —- oh, very rich. But then he was away off and had not been to see them for a long time, not since the apple blossoms were all out, and that had been a very long while ago. Suddenly a bright Idea came to her. There was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, If she could but get it. There had been only one or two rain- IXJWS this summer, but when the next came she would run all the way, to be sure to get there in time. It was true they almost always came after thunder storms, and Nelly was dreadfully afraid of thunder, but now* she looked up at the bright, blue sky and sighed that there was not even a cloud in sight. "Well, it's awful hot," she said, hopefully, "and thunderstorms always come when it's hot, .so maybe one will come some time soon," and, now that this difficult question was settled, she ran off and had soon forgotten all about her troubles in romping with Puff. After awhile the sky, which had loolfed so hopelessly clear, did begin to cloud over, and toward evening, for the first time in her life, Nelly heard with [♦ieasure, mingled with her childish dread, the distant roll of thunder. It came nearer and nearer, and before long the storm, which had been gathering all the while she was taking her after noon nap, came upon them. She kept close to her mother all the while the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled over the house; for she had to own that she was a little afraid, even though she had been so anxious for the storm to come, and was very glad it was not a very drjadful one, such as they had had sometimes. Presently the storm over, and away low down in the west the sun came out. To Nelly's delight a bright rain bow appeared in the east and dropped down just by the woods. Now was the little girl's chance. She did not tell her i.'other of her intentions, becatise she wanted to surprise her and her father, so she slipped off through the garden, never heeding the rain which was still softly falling. She climbed over the fence at the end of the garden and ran down the little hill outside, and through the fields that lay between her home and the woods where the rainbow seemed to touch the earth. The grass was very wet uud poor Nelly's dainty blue dress was getting sadly draggled and spotted. She tried to run between the drops as Janet had said was the way to do; but somehow she couldn't manage it just right, and they came tumbling down on her bare golden head and eager baby face, as she hurried on, intent on her loving errand. Once she tumbled over a tree stump nnd scratched her hand, but she »' did not giitter at all, as she bad ti . . ' would. In fact it looked more like an u. n . « j..it than anything else, and had a lid 011 so she could not see inside. But Nelly had not the slightest doubt that this was the treasure of which Janet had told her. even though its outward appearance did not come up to her expectations. She went over and tried to unfasten it, and had just succeeded and w as drag ging it away, when a man appealed on the scene; a big, rough-looking fellow that it frightened poor Nelly even to look at! "Hey, there, w hat're you about?" this man demanded, roughly. "Oh, please, sir," cried Nelly, still holding fast to her treasure, "I'se come all the way from home after it. "cause my papa needs some money awful bad. and I knew Pd find it at the end of the rainbow —and, oh dear, oh dear,' and Nelly broke down and s»>l>l>ed in her dis r.p|)ointment and fright. "What's yosi talkin' about ?" asked the man, not so roughly. "Stop your cryin' nnd tell me what all this nonsense Is about the rainbow. I'm not goin" to hurt you." Somewhat reassured, Nelly stopped crying nnd looked up. "Why, don't you know," she asked, in surprise, "that there's always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? 1 saw it come down here in the woods and i ran all the way to get it for my i>api>, who wants some money dreadful bad." "Does, eh? That's funny. Well, so do I." "Hut you won't now, 'cause you've got all this. Oh, dear. I wish I'd got here sooner, 'cause you're a big man and can easy get another." "Why. bless yer life." said the man, at last comprehending Nelly's meaning, "that ain't no pot of gold. I only wish i? was. That there's my supper Iw as jus' goin' to cook, only everything's so wet, I dou't know how I'm goin' to do it. Het " look for yerself, if you don't believe me," he said, as Nelly appeared increde lous, and he lifted the lid, displaying to her horrified gaze some ordinary JK» tatoes lying In their jackets ready to In cooked. Then all Nelly's courage disappeared on the instant, and she cried in terror. "Oh. I want to go home! I'se so afraid 1 Oh, dear, oh, dear!" Just then they heard M sound outsidi the woods of some one calling: "Nelly, Nellv!" "Oh, that's me. anil somebody's look in' for me! Oh. I'se so glad! \es, 1 s.' coinin'," anil Nelly darted away from the deceitful stew ing pot and itsow ner, and at the edge of the woods w a.s caught in the arms of no other than dear, lon>r lost I'ncle Ben. Then once more safe and happy, kind hearted little Nilly remembered the lone man in the woods who had fright ened her so, and w ho was so dreadfully ignorant about rainbows, and nothing would do but Uncle Ben should go back and see him, with the result that a gen erous piece of money found its way into the pocket of the forlorn stranger. "Now, Nell, you rogue, tell me why you ran off like this and scared yor.r mother so," said Uncle Ben, a.s he pulled one of the wet golden curls that lay on his shoulder. "Here I come to see you and find the house in confusion and everybody running around calling for Nelly. And nobody knows anything about the naughty girl, only Bridget thought she saw her run down the hill, and then poor old Uncle Ben, with his rheumatism and neuralgia, has to go out after his bad child, and finds her talking to a tramp in the woods. Now tell me what it all means, miss." "Oh, Uncle Ben," said Nelly, "I didn't tell mamma 'cause I wanted to s'prise her and papa. I ran off to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, that Janet told me about, "cause papa's got to sell the house and move away if he don't get some money. And, oh —I didn't find it, after all." Uncle Ben laughed. "Poor Nell, and she didn't find it. Well, don't try again, or you may meet a trunup not quite so harmless as you:* friend of the stewing pot. But what's all this about moving. Nelly ? You know I'm a stranger and haven't heard all the news." So Nelly gave her version of the troubles that had overtaken the family, and how she was going to set every thing right by bringing home the treas ure from the end of the rainbow, and then how it all ended. "But now you're here, Uncle Ben, and you'll do just as well," Nelly concluded, with perfect confidence in his ability and willingness to furnish untold quan tities of riches. "Well, well," was all Uncle Ben saifl, "I came just in time. We'll have to see about things, you and I, Nell," and Nelly knew that Uncle Ben's methods of "seeing about things" were always satisfactory*. Uncle Ben was as good us his word, and, though Nelly never knew how it was managed, she knew it was through him that their pretty home was not sold. But the mystery of the rainbow and its wonderful treasures has not yet been quite solved to her satisfaction. — Good Ifousekeeping. A Koyal Critic's Blunder. A strange story, illustrating the flan gers of too frank artistic criticism on the [Kirt of royalty, is told by the Copen hagen journals. King Oscar of Sweden, who is not in the best odor in the Nor wegian capital just at present, recently visited the annual art exhibition in Christiania, accompanied by the crown prince. The visitors were conducted through the galleries by Mr. Holmboe. a member of the committee and him self a painter. On pausing lie fore a cer tain canvas the crown prince remarked that it was a "fearful" composition. The king, after stooping to discovei the artist's name, presently ejaculated wifli a smile: "Why, the man must be mad!" The picture was by Holmboe himself, but neither of the royal visitors was aware that it was he who was showing them round. The artist felt much of fended, and afterwards declared that he intended to demand an upology. He was prevailed on by the king's adju tants, however, to say nothing, in or der not to embarrass his royal critics. The sequel is reported to have taken place at a banquet given in connection with the Norwegian Artists' associa tion, held on the same evening, when the president announced, amidst ap plause, that instead of proposing King Oscar's health as usual he would give that of Mr. Holmboe.—Westminster Ga zette. Origin of Music. The origin of music is lost in the twilight of tradition. In Holy Scripture Jubal is mentioned as the father of mu sicians (see Gen. 4: 21), and the Greeks and Romans both gave mythological ac counts of its Invention. To come to later times, musical notes are said to have been invented by Guido Aretino, a Benedictine monk of Arezzo, in Italy, in A. D. 1023. —Chicago Inter Ocean. PHOTOGRAPHING A WHALE. A snap-shot Ht a Mnn«rrr m* il Out of the nmrr. Whether a certain ntialt that break fasted, lined and supped every day in the Santa Catalina ehannel, went oiit one morning with the determination of bring photographed, I really cannot say; but the picture wax certain!} taken. Living In the neigltorhood the whale was prolialih familiar with the steamer that plowed daily through its dining room; and if it was at all an observing whale, it must have noticed on the morning in question at: unusual commo tion on the deck of the steamer, and this is what it saw. The passengers were crowding about the rail,and on "he upper deck stood a man and ft little girl, the former holding a sijuare black bos Into which he looked earnestly. And If the whale had come a little nearer this is what he might have heard: "Will he look pleasant?" asked the little girl of her companion. "1 hope so," he replied, glancing rap- Idly from the camera to the whale that was then swimming a few hundred feet away. The passengers had first observed it a mile or more distant, when the little girl said it was "dancing on its tail." It had, really, leaped out of the water, and for a few seconds exposed almost its entire back most astonishing spec tacle— and then had fallen back into the sea with a thundering crash. Soon it came to the surface again, ana shoot ing ft cloud of vapor into the air that slowly floated away, at Intervals dis appeared and reappeared until finally it came alongside the steamer, swim ming along within a short distance. It was then that the fortunate possessor of the camera secured a good position near the rail, and waited, as his little companion had said, for the whale to "look pleasant." Looking pleasant. In this instance, meant for the whale to show n large portion of its body above the water. It was now swimming just below the surface, its tinge bla< k form. 60 or 70 feet in length, distinctly visible, propelled by the undulating movement of the tail. Suddenly It rose, showing just the portion around the blow holes, and with a loud puff the hot breath burst into the air, was condensed, and in a little cloud drifted awav. "Didn't he look pleasant?" asked the little girl, earnestly. "Not quite pleasant enough."said t.he photographer, as he peered In the tiny window of the camera that reflected the sea In brilliant tints. "1 could catch the sjMiut but I want to wait until he throws his entire head out of water and looks really pleasant I touch tht? button." It was an exciting moment, as never, so far as known, had a living whale, in the open ocean, posed before a camera, or a photographer seen so huge an ani mal obligingly swim alo-ig, allowing its picture to lie taken. "It's a tame whale, isn't itV'said tlie little girl, as the whale gradually came nearer. "He certainly does not seem very timid," replied her companion; and as he spoke, ptifflcame the spouting lik" the escape of steam, the vapor actually drifting aboard the steamer Into the faces of the passengers. The whale wns now BO near lhat th<» barnacles npon his back could be seen, and one man was sure thnt he saw'its e,ve. Suddenly It sank, and all that could be seen in the little window was the dancing waves and the white sails of myriads of velellas that covered the surface, scudding- along- before the fresh tradewind. Then, without warning, the creature ns suddenly rose again, showing a large area of its bnck, send ing at the same time a cloud of misty vapor into the air as its top or dorsal fln appeared. The photographer saw it in the little window, and evidently think ing that the whale looked as pleasant as he in all probability would, touched the button, ami so far as i.s known, took the first photograph of a living whal? in the open ocean.—Charles Frederick Holder, in St. Nicholas. DUMAS, FATHER AND SON The Tetter Was Made Legitimate When His Mother Wag Dying. Dumas does not seem at any time to have thought seriously of matrimony. Perhaps,had the Rouennaise seamstress been free to marry him, his relations with her would have been legalized, and the current of his life would have run in a less zigzag channel. She was a per son of rare constancy of purpose nnrt dignity of character, living always by her work, and carefully watching over her son. When she and Dumas quar reled, the filiation of the younger Alex ander was "recognized" by the elder, a legal formality which gave him pa ternal rights and enabled the father ta take him from his mother and plact him >is a boarder in the College Chaptal. But as the father's nnger was evanes cent, his heart soft and righteous, the maternal claims were not long denied. The woman urging them sought nnd obtained, to be near her child, the di rection of the linen and the shirt-mend ing department in the college, and not only lived on her salary, but made pro vision to help her son forward when h( grew up, and for her own old age. The son cherished her in her life and revered her memory. As he marrjed P Russian lady of high rank, his mothe. would not live with him when he was rich and renowned until she felt sh* was dying. This was in 1868. The prodigal father, who hardly deserved the name of Dumas pere, was then broken in health and falling into the state of permanent somnolency which took hold of him before his death. Ilis daughter, Mme. Petel, with impulsive generosity, a.sked him to make her half brother legitimate by marrying his mother in extremis, and this he did.-- Emily Crawford, in Century. Making It Pleasant for Him. "I w ants to git a white man arrested fer incendiary trespass or somfin," said the perturbed colored gentleman. "What's up?" the policeman. "Man hired me toe rake leaves out his yard, an' when I was most froo he say: 'Mose. Dat wouldn't bo no halid wuk dt all ef you was doln' it jes fer fun, would it?' an' I say: 'Dat'sso; wui< fer fun ain't nebbah so tirin' as wuk fer pay.' Den be say: 'All right; I des not pay you an' dat will mek it easier fer you. Always like to help pore lubrln' man along.' Now, wouldn't dat jar you?"—lndianapolis Journal. Ruled Oat of Turkey. Here is the latest story of the Turkish custom house. A richlv-bound copy of "Herodotus" was found in a trunk Of u Greek traveler. "Who Is the author of this book?" said the official. "Hero dotus." "What subjects does he deal with?" "Kings and international con flicts." "Does he allude to eastern af fairs?" "He treats of nothing else." Whereupon the book was immediately confiscated.—London News. Solid rookery. "I made these biscuit myself, Billl ger." said Mrs. McSwat, with honest pride. "They look very nice, Lobelia," re plied Mr. McSwat, picklngone of them tip and making an effort to split It. "And they are still hot. How long ago did you -ah—east them?" Chicago Tribune. IST®. 19 SCHOOL AND CHURCH. A •nt *4 yem old is a member of tic : i hinnn class of the Maine Med ical school. * 'oiuiuis.sioiier llne llooth— it i> not Evu was named after Long telluw's heroine. The mills and lactones established in this country by the Salvation Army give employment to 10,700 persons. l.adv O'Hapan, widow of the late lord chancellor of Ireland, has left the Honian Catholic church and has adopted the tenets of the Plymouth brethren. During tiie absence, for three months, of Hev. Mr. Cochrane, of the I'nitarian church at liar llarlvor, Me., his wife will attend to all his ministerial d ilties. - -Cambridge university hits chosen as subjects for the meinln-rs' prizes "The Monroe Doctrine" for the Knglish essay and for the ljitiu essay "A Defense or tm Indictment of I.eander Jameson and His Men." —Dr. William Lyon Phelps, assistant professor in English literature at \ale, lias received nn offer to the head of th.l department of English in the W. men's college, Baltimore. It is ex|>ee'. • d that he will decline, lie is regit;der one of the most promising as.-..>t..iit | >ies sors in the university, ami a stiimg ef fort will be made to retain hiiu. —A writer In London j>eriodteals some 40 years past states that nearly all the English clergymen living between two or three hundred years ogo wore the mustache. In his list of those who wore the Ward on the upper lip we find the well-known names of John Donne, George llerbert s# ltobert Derrick. Jer emy Taylor, Thomas Fuller and Robert South, the famous John linos, and the celebrated John Bttnyan. RUSSIAN NOBLES RUINED. Despite Government Aid, Their Estate* Are More und More ilea illy Mortgaged. Mr. John Mitchell, British consul at St. Petersburg, In the course of his tin nua 1 report to lord Salisbury upon the condition of the country, says: "Tfcn years of strenuous support of a financial character on the part of the govern ment of the landlord class hns failed to yield the desired results. The Nobility Lend bonk has proved unequal to the task of arresting the sure but gradual decay of the class in question. Mort* gagetl estates were repeatedly, by hun dreds and even thousands, destined to be dealt with by the auctioneer's ham mer, but at the critical moment the government has always intervened with new acts of grace which postponed thfe evil day. "At the present time more than 100,- 000 estates, or 41 per cent, of the whole area of the land owned by nobles, are mortgaged to various government and private laud credit institutions, and the amount of money advanced on these es tates has reached 1,269,000,000 rubles ( £ 126,500,000), of which sum 1,174,000,- 000 rubles (£ 117,200,000) still rcmaicfe owing. In the course of the last years (18S9-1594), the Indebtedness oi landed estates to private land banks increased over 84,000,000 rubles (£ 8,- 800,000), and these banks last year reaped a profit of more thnn 7,500,000 rubles on these operation#. "Of the enormous capital of the No bility Land bank, exceeding £50,000,- 000, created by the government for the I express purpose of making money ad vances to landlords, but little has be£U paid back, and but little improvement has been made in the cultivation 01 estates. It is asserted by those well acquainted with provincial life that the millions advanced to the noble land lord class have not been expended lit the improvement of their estates, but were spent on amusement, luxury, trav els, payment of old debts and unprofit able enterprises. "One of the chief causes that threateu the almost complete extinction of the noble l&od-owning class is to be found in absenteeism. The cultivation of land unfortunately does not afford the nu bility those attractions that are present ed by life In towns and by careers in various branches of the government service, the latter being, moreover, ac companied by the acquisition of rank and social distinction."—N. Y. Herald. Uooth's Message .Scratched ou Glia#. On August 13, ISO 4, John Wilkes Booth was playing a dramatic engage ment in Meadville, To. Upon his arrival in the city that day he registered at the McHenry house, then kept by a Mr. It. M. r. Taylor, and after the perform ance in the evening retired alone to hla room. When the servant entered hta room the next morning, after Booth hart left the hotel nnd city, an inscription was discovered scratched In a large hand on one of the window panes: "Abe Lincoln dejmrted this life Aug. 13th, 1804, by the effects of poison." Little attention was paid to the writing oti the glass at the time; but as soon as it was learned that Booth had killed tho president the circumstances connected with the window inscription were re called, the glass was removed from its sash, framed in a plain black wooden frame, a piece of dark velvet being placed at its baek to facilitate reading, and the signature of Booth entered On the register August 13 was cut from the book and attached to the window glass. The original pane is now in the posses sion of the tvnr department, to which it was presented by the daughter of the owner of the hotel. Miss Mary McHenry, some time after the assassination of the president. All of the circumstances in connection with the glass are certified to by Miss McHenry and by other resi dents of Meadville.—Victor Louis Ma son, in Century. A lighted Gun. The shades of night are no longer a protection to game from the powers of the sportsman. An Knglish nimrod has invented a luminous sight for use in a bad light. A tiny incandescent lamp, fed from a single storage battery con cealed iu the gun stock, is mounted, within a shield at the muzzle of the gun, und a faint ray of light calculated to indicate the position of its source is exposed in the direction of the shooter's eye, and this is sufficient to enable him to obtain the required alignment with the baek sight und with the target, be it animate or inanimate. The special application of the sight is for game shooting at night anu for naval Serv ice, such, for instance, as the illumina tion of a machine gun used against tor j>edo attacks during the night. Tor the latter purpose it has been adopted in the English navy.—X. Y. Journal. A Draw. An Irishman and a Yankee w ere ploy ing the forfeit game of questions. "How does the little ground squirrel dig liis bole and show no dirt at the en trance?" nsked the Irishman. "Give it up," said the Yankee, at last. "Sure, you see, he begins at the other end of the hole," said Pat, triumphant ly' • , "But how does beget there? queried the Yankee. "Ob, that's your question, answer It yourself," said Put.—Harper's Bound Table. Accounted Fo» "Kitty," he said tx> his wife, "you'ie clever, but you can't touch my mother at making lien ten biscuit." "Of course not," she said; "the wom an that brought you up had to have a good fiat." —Chicago Record.