VOL. XXXIII COME AND SEE US Wo are Located od South Main Street, (>]>] iosite Hotel Butler, 'T* ST* A In the room formerly occupied by Hartzell & jl Kemper. VV e have received our spring stock | of Tans in different shades, Patent Leathers, t M 1 Kangaroos, etc. Our stock of Ladies Fine i tjjja I Shoes and Oxfords is \ery large — all the latest style la.-;s to be found among our stock. We 1 , carry these goods in all sizes and widths, and prices the lowest. Come and see us. We have many bargains in store for you. The variety was never so great, The styles were never so perfect, The quality never so good, { And the prices were never so low. i JBr • t Biinnwautia 3 ' 1 1 * A FEW OF OUR PRICES Ladies fine dongola pat tip ox fords 5 C jf .TTj Ladies fine serge congress gait &L ers 45C rj Ladies gra.n shoes pat tip heel or spring 9 ° c /^S Ladies waterproof oil grain | «J 2 shoes 75 c V % ; *\l Ladies fine calf slippers 50c ys/ Mens waterproof working shoes 95c .JJL Mens fine dress shoes lace or ~ m x. congress $ 1 -OO \ v < Boys fine shoes.. S7SC, sl, $125 Misses good wearing school Childrens fine dongola pat tip shoes I si< «k of Leather 1 and^Findings. i-1 < irrakers supplies of all kinds. Ai' lii ( < f russirg for Dongola. 'J ; 1 ;1 t! attM 1 «aihtr she ts at reduced piices. Mail c idcis leceive prompt attention. JOHN BICKEL South Main St. "Tn" 225, ' Butler Pa. 1 SPRING & SUririEß FOOTWEAR! B. C. HUSELTON J Undeniably Shows the Largest Stock of Ladies \ , ftand Gents Fine Shoes of the Latest and ( ? M ost* Stylish Patterns ever Displayed in v \ HAVE YOU SEEN THE ( ? \ | y&\ 'STILETTO," S J \ I \ J One of the most perfect shoes for C 1 I % VA/ men ever made. Dark wine C C I shade of Russia Calf, the latest r } / W tint; black eyelets, silk stitched. 7 S i 20th Century shape welt. ✓ \ War-^I. Ladies low cut shoes in tan / ; and black. 1 r \*r t on Tailor made, in lace or button, / \y onion S ZU Russet or Dongola, Kid or Pat- \ J ent Leather Tips. We sell these C t v <* T1 Lli 1 \ beautiful and comfortable shoes at I our trade winning figures, |M 0 i WOMEN'S DONGOLA SHOES IN Wk 1 ? ? BUTTON AND LACE. S ? Made on the latest lasts, only 75c, sl, \ C j $1.25 and $1.50. Easy shoes a speci- m ? S MEN'S AND BOYS' TANS I j Highest grades, Russia Calf, in all the ( S most fashionable shades, comfortable t f lasts, pointed or derby toe, positively / ? unequaled in Butler. Men's at £1 .50, $2, $2.50, $3, $3.50, C Js4 :ind $5; Boys' at $1.35, $1.50 and $2; Youths' at $1.25, C \ $1.50 and $1.90. 7 C | ,. r | Men's and Boys' Fine Shoes. C \ k,,' Bl'lain. Square, Nee»lle or Opera Toe; \ / a " widths, Calf at sl, $7.50, S3 and ( X __ . #5-s<>; Buff and A Calf at yie, |i, / ? an . d /.-5o; Boys' at 85c, $., \ C \nv f 5 an Yoiiths* at 751:, 11 € ) Mens Solid Working Shoes ( / st y° u cver saw at 75c, fi, $1.25 S v Jt I ' 3- See our |i.oo shoe with C J <££ l Crcdemore, tlie best shoe mafle f \ J o ' money —°^ ers K e t C sses * ldrens Sprlng-biel Shoes f All the New Styles in Tan and Black, Lace or Button, Pointed or Square C 1 Toe at 75c, |r, #1.25 and 1r.50, sizes ia-2- Childs at 40c, 50c, 75c f 1 and ( f $1.25, si/es f Come in and see us and try our shoes. t i B. C. HUSELTON, OPP- Hotel Lowry. I *umi mn * sfST GOODS* *S(iOD WORK %Hli) PfilCfS* These .ire tin- things that have enabled tne to build i*> a tailoring trade during the last year. p We have the most skillful, painstaking cutter; employ none but the very best workmen; handle nothing but the very best goods, both foreign and domestic, and guarantee you perfect satisfaction in each and every particular, and for all this charge you simply a fair living profit. J. h5. YOUNG, Tailor, Hatter and Men's Furnisher, "" ° p ' TT IE BUTLER CITIZEN. Eawy to Take My to Operate Are features f *cuU%r to Hood's nils. Small in •i 2€, tasteless, fcfQcient, thorough. As one man Hood's ■Aid: " You n( ver know you _ _ _ hare taken a | til till it 1* all .11 over." see. C.t. Hood * Co., 111}% Proprietors, i owell. Mas*. The only pUli <0 Uk* with Hood's ftarsaparilia. cTx D. o mmwzazmm iLWer- 1 |Wear | |P©ip)ts | Tborougb protection Cv fio irrit&tio?? g? Mon-aljnnhfciMs' jS £§ Perfect fittioj SB pricey Ail io J*ros Hy%iDI Doors, Sash, Blinds, Mouldings, Shingles and Lath Always In Stock. LIME, HAIR AND PLASTER 0«o» opposite P. A.W. Depot. rrtTLEH m. A, mum Funeral Director 37J>£liiji,St. liTTTLER. THURSDAY, JL'NE S 4 189(». eriT. \ ®Y WIULiIAM T. MCHOIiS. * ,Mi r ~ V'lghe ißqj. by J. B Comfiny... VII. Jiad the master of the house on the knoll been other thun he was, this latent precaution might have served to excite a Suspicion that his mind was lieglnning to gi v ® way under the de pressing- influences of his manner of existence. Afterward, It is trme, sus picions of the sort came to me, though they were never long-lived, but at that time, while wonder was aroused, the feeling carried with It no suggestion that he was not actuated by some suf ficient reason for the step he had taken. So far as I knew, his safety was not threatened; but I had to confess my self in ignorance of tho character of the peril he dreaded, and to note his ar rangements, without appreciating the need of them, much as a raw recruit might watch the many and seemingly excessive precautions of a veteran in charge of a magazines About a fortnight after the adven ture in the marsh Lamar surprised mo with an invitation to dine. He said very little while the meal was in progress, but when Martha bad cleared up the ta ble and shuffled off to her own domain be began to talk with unwonted free dom. He asked questions about the village, concerning which his curiosity was certainly new-born,and thenabout the progress I had made in building up a practice. "Well," said I, rather sheepishly,"it's slow work. People hereabouts are conservative. Most of them have sur vived old Dr. Banks' attentions for a good many years and they are cautioua about changing. Besides, most of them knew 11* as a youngster, and it takes time to live down the fact that I was a boy." "You maintain the professional air?" said he, inquiringly. "Yes, though they give mo little cause to smell of drugs. Strange and powerful odors would impress them, I suspect; at least some of the older brethren seem to find such an aroma worth carrying about with them." "You should possess a conveyance of your own." "So far one has been unnecessary. In case of need, Mrs. Weston lends me a horse and buggy." "That will not suffice. Procure a suitable vehicle and a horse—one of speed. The co&t shall be mine." "Very well," I answered. He rose and bowed in the fashion in which he terminated an interview, adding, however, before he left the room: "Procure them at once." I understood that in this order he had an eye as much to his own benefit as to mine, but it pleased me neverthe less. There was nothing in the way of horsetlesh in the neighborhood which would meet the requirement of gTeat speed, and I resolved to drive to Baf*- settville the next day to seek Sam Car penter's assistance, his knowledge of the trotting Rtock of the region being encyclopaedic in its scope. To th« shrewdness of a horse trader born and bred he joined a reasonable amount of honesty, and, as there could be no' haggling over his commission, he could be relied on as a trustworthy adviser. When I drew rein the following morn ing before his stable he came out to meet me, with a twinkle of profession al amusement in his eye as he glanced at Mrs. Weston's steady old mare and ramshackle buckboard. "Sam," said I, getting down to busi ness at once, "I wont to buy a good horse." "Like enough ye dew," he answered, dryly. "Many dews; some gits 'em." "I want your help. What's more, I'll pay for it." "Now yer talkin' sense," said he, warming up a little. "Buyin' a boss's like gittin' a wife; if yer don't know yer bizness.good looks 'll fool y<\ nine times Out o' ten. But what's yer pick, go or show ?" "Go," said I. "A horee that will stand without tying, that's easy to drive, that has no bad tricks, that will jog along till he's called upon, and then will give anything inthccountryhlsdust—that's the horse I'm after." "D'jer ever try to namo a baby BO'S to suit seven maiden aunts?" he queried, with what seemed to be unnecessary irrelevance. "No." "Wall, I reckon ye've got the same kind of a job on band." "Oh, come," said I, "you're my re liance in this. Scratch your head, and dig out what I'm after. It will be worth your while." He reflected for a moment. "Wall," said he, "there's nothin' to suit ye round here; but if yell come, along to Trent, I'll show ye just the. article yer after." The proposal pleased mo; for I hod several errands to attend to in that city, and a ride of less than an hour by rail would carry us there. "Come on, then," said Carpenter, when I had agreed to his plan; "let's get down ter the deepo. Train's due in ten minutes." During the trip ho told me some thing of tlie various happenings in Basse ttville, tuvd, in turn, sought news of Itodneytown in general, and of my patient in particular. He had heard, he said, a story that the invalid was a rich brewer from the south who had been sent to a less enervating climate. I prayed that the yarn might receive, gen eral circulation and credence, though how it had been started was one of the mysteries of countryside gossip. "He's from Charleston, South Car*- liny, some folks allow," said Carpenter, suggestively. "From that direction, certainly," I answered. "He keeps mighty close." "Ho has to. Quiet, absolute quiet, is tho bent medicine he can have," I hast ened to explain. " Toin't much fun fer a man ter live .like a clam," Carpenter observed. "Still, it's livin', and that beats dyin' every time. It's like fishin' fer bass and catchin' bull-heads." When we left the train at the Trent station Sam led the way to the stable where we hoped to make a purchase. The horse, a big dark bay, long-legged and with a wisp of a tail, was brought out of his stull and trotted up and down tho street for insjicction. He was not a pretty horse in any way, but Carpenter gave me a nudge which might be taken to indicate that the animal met his approval. He drew me aside, after having made a long and thorough examination of tho horse. "Eight years old, sound as a dollar; wind and legs all right," said he, in u whisper. "I've seen him before. He's jjood for a mile under 2;40. Quiet as a lamb, no fool notions; sensible as a Christian about trains —knows the Jnjiue can't hurt him if he keeps ofT the track." "What's the price?" "Five hundred—asked," said he, with a strong i mphasis on the last word. I whistled softly. "Oh, that's the askin' price," he ex plained. "It's like a woman's chignon: it'll come off." "I'm in your hands," said I. "Under stand, I want your guarantee in this business, and you'll be paid for it. Be sides the horse, I need harness and n buggy." "Wall," said he, after a moment's cal culation, "I'll be fair with ye. Will ye give me what I can clear under S3OO fer the hull outfit, boss, light-runnin* buggy, and a good harness?" "It's a bargain. I'll go to the bank, draw the money, and bring it to you here. Will you drive the rig to Ba*sett villc, so that I can get it there to-night when I come down by train ?" "By the time yer back from the bank I'll have made the dicker and be ready to start," suid he. And he was as good as his word. Before noon the payment had been made and my new horse was trotting steadily along the road lead ing from Trent. Carpenter's praise of the animal had been enough to end my doubts as to his speed, but I could not but wish that the steed were more pleas ing to look upon. Though I wasted a good deal of time over a mid-day dinner and the various commissions I had to execute, I found upon reaching the railway station that there was nearly an hour of waiting ahead of me before.the accommodation train should begin its journey down the rood. The station, however, was not a bad place in which to kill time, for two lines met there, and the rapid ebb and flow of the human tide continued from morning to night. I rubbed elbows with stolid farmers, brisk townspeople and nervous women, chatted for a mo ment with an acquaintance, and then stepped out upon the platform in search of some sheltered nook where a cigar might be enjoyed in peace. A long train from the west monopolized one of the tracks. It appeared to be well filled with passengers, and I strolled the length of It, surveying with some amusement the faces flat tened against the windows of the cars, faces old, middle-aged and young, but all alike in their expression of vague curiosity, as their owners watched the stream of travelers passing from the waiting-rooms. I had nearly reached the end of the last, car, and had l>ent down to strike a match !n the lee of it, when I heard my name called. "Oh, Dr. Morris, Dr. Morris, dear doc tor, that's you, isn't it? Do come here, quick, quick! The train will bo start ing in a second, and I must see you! Oh, doetor, doctor, quick, quick!" I recog-nized the voice. It was that of Mrs. Loring', with all the old hurry ing rush of words I remembered so well. Looking up, I saw the itinerant sufferer leaning far out. of the ear window, with one arm waving wildly, as if to assist in attracting my attention. Pullingoff my hat, 1 sprang toward her. "Oh, this is fortunate, fortunate, doc tor —you can't know how fortunate!" (she cried. "I've been anxious, so anx iious, to see you. How is my health? |Oh, doctor, it's terrible, terrible, worse ;thaji ever, doctor; worse, much worse, very much worse." "And Miss Gray, is she still with [you?" I asked, my eyes roaming over (the windows and seeking her niece's (face at one of them. "Yes, yes, dear girl, dear girl, she jiever leaves me. Ilow could she, and [have a heart? Mine, doctor, has been |up to 120 a minute." "Indeed!" said I, throwing due pro fessional gmvity into the word. "I [trust Miss Gray is well ?' "Yes, yes, as well as ever. And a tem ijon. There were a few Portuguese books and a few Spanish, a good many in Latin, and a still larger number In French and in Fnglisli. Bur ton's Anatomy, t'ieero's Letters, and Voltaire's works seemed to be his fa vorites. I say "seemed," for he never took tlie trouble to speak of any of the authors he read. He was still as cadaverous as ever, though his general physical condition ■was ns good as could be hoped for by any man who led so sedentary a life. December dragged through its tem .pewtuous length, and January followed with an even more trying sti-ieh of gales and eitren .• cold. Thesi condi tions he with.st«x>d so well that I had hopes that the winter would p.u- with out illness at the house on the knoll; but oue day early in February I found hiin suffering from a severe cold and exhibiting symptoms which were most unfavorable. It was my first oppor tunity to earn the salary <>f his medical adviser, and fortune was kind. Al though ho developed a good deal of fever, and at the worst it was touch and-go with pneumonia, a week saw him practically out of danger, though still quite willing to keep to his bed, and a good deal safer then; than he would liave been prowling about the house. lie expressed no opinion of Lis treatment, no thanks to his doctor, no imi>at ience to be about again. I was his physician, hired by the year, and so long as he was ill my orders were to be obeyed unquestioning]}"; there was uo need of gratitude either way. It was all very logical, no doubt, but it in creased my dislike for him. There wcrtild have been more real satisfaction in persuading a drooping sapling to keep alive. After his recovery we slipped back into the old routine. He gave oriiers occasionally, and I obeyed them, with out question and without any great heed for the reasons for them. In fact, speculating upon this man's history or his plans was such profitless business that, for the time, I gave it up in dis gust. He was a person who v ;:s t.> be visited daily, who paid lib. : .' 1 v f > the attention, and who thus • pass my many leisure - easy-going comfort. The ; i were no longer inquisitive about the hermit; the theory of the brewer from Charleston appeared to have spread widely and to have been accepted, find ing believers far more easily than would have been the case with any state ment of the facts concerning him, so far as they had fallen within my knowl edge. At last winter drew to a close, and spring came on, advancing coyly, as is the custom of maidens before whom the world is ready to bow in eager hom age. Then the last of the snow-banks disappeared from tho recesses of the hills, the slopes grew green, and the rank vegetation of the marsh flourished in all the vigor of its strong new life. Once more there were birds in the trees, r.nd flowers in the fields, and once more from the 6ea swept invigorating breezes. To all about me spring brought re newed activities. There was a fine bustle on the farms, and even the sleepy village seemed to bo awakened. For the first time my ease became onerous; I fell to inventing tasks to convince myself that one could be busy if he would. My horse, whose existence, during the winter had been all That equine sloth could desire, was now in steady service, for the roads were excel lent, being sufficiently sandy soon to rid themselves of undesirable moisture, and I explored the highways and by ways for miles around. Near the vil lage I let my steed choose his own gait, but when we found a level bit of road where there were likely to be r.o spec tators the trotter had an opportunity to provehis speed. He was all that Ca rpenter had said for him; devoid of nerves, yet, when pushed, by long odds tho fastest animal in the region. appearance certainly was ag-ainst him Arching the neck he left to the younger and less philosophical of his kind; his head w as carried as low as that of the oldest and most decrepit plow horse in the town. He was free from the vice of stumbling, yet often seemed to threoteu to lose his footing on the slightest provocation. A high knee action was foreign to his notions, and his ordinary trot was a mere shuffle. Yet he covered ground surprisingly, even when apparently only lounging along. His only serious fault, from a practical point of view, was a hard mouth, which sometimes made it no easy task to pull him in after one of our spurts. We were jogging along toward tho village one day, when I heard a sharp patter of hoofs behind me, and soon Dr. Banks' clever little mare drew up alongside the dark bay. "Good morning, Morris," her on ner called out, in his olieery voice, which had done as much for his patients as half his prescriptions. "Fine day, doctor," I 6houted back to him. "Very professional-looking nag you've got there," he continued. "Will stand without hitching, I'll be bound." "He answers my purpose well enough," I responded, rather stiffly, for after awhile jokes about one's horse, no matter how well intentioned, lose tho oharin of novelty. "Pity he hasn't more speed," said the other, and, with a twitch of the reins, he shot his marc a couple of lengths ahead. It was probably his scheme to trot a hundred yards or so and then pull up to watch in triumph my tardy ap proach. When he looked over bis shoulder, however, the bay's head was close to his wheel. Much surprised, and no less disappointed, he brought his animal down to a walk, a proceed ing which I promptly imitated. "I've been wanting to have a talk with you, Morris," he said. "It has A we«k saw him practically oat of danger. struck mo that we might cooperate a little to our mutual advantage.'' "Indeed?" said I, wondering what might be in tlie old gentleman's mind. •"The fact is, I'm getting ancient," he went on. "Not a bit of it," said I. "You're, in v our prime, fair, plump, and forty." "Deny the first, admit the second, and make the third half as much again,'* said he. "I'm not broken down —and 1 don't want to be before my time. That's just the point. This last win ter gave me a warning. Besides, I've enough to live on, and I'd like to have a little chance for play after 40 years of work. I want to travel a bit, to see something of this big country of ours. I'm like a mole that knows Iris particu lar garden by heart, but has hardly a notion of what may be on the other side of the fence. The long and short of it is, I'd like to shift my heavy work to younger Shoulders, which will bear It more easily, and, I dare say, better." "Not better," said I. "The fact is, as you've probably dis covered, this town is hardly big enough to support two doctors comfortably, tjtjios s«mcdf9 mo thaf w* might niakf som 1 ? arrangvment which would be ad rantr.goouß to both of us. There's a yo uig chap in Trent « !.«> is tr\ idk to dicker with me. but put hun otf, f. r you're first ( eople sieep in a bed that's lar>re enough for only one. fty the way. though, am 1 right in supposing that you're decided '<-> rrmaiu lure pefuart '.tly That ,\u.4 " •""'f a \n*'d to be the least imminent of the three, but it was as well to reckon it in. I had been in his pay for the. l>etter part of a y ear, but, in reality, was my position improved ? I hud lived in comfort, free from tha cares which had burdened me in the city, I had accumulated a few hundred dollars, and physically 1 had been a gainer by the removal to the country. That was one. side of the ledger. On the other could be read loss of the lit tle progress I had made in my profes sion, absence of settled purposes of any sort, and a grow th of that often disas trous docility which follows unques tioning subjection to another's strong will. Things could not go on as they were indefinitely. Sooner or later the end must come. And then? Was I prepared to devote myself to the narrow field of a country practitioner, useful and honorable as it was? Banks had done me a great service; he had roused me in most timely fashion; but the' awakening had been faj- from pleasant. From habit my horse came to u stand still in front of the village post ottice, and equally from habit I entered thd place and asked for my mail. A letter, a medical journal, and a newspaper were handed out, and, mechanically thrusting them into my pocket, I walked to the buggy, climbed in, and turned my nag's head homeward. Still possessed by doubts and speculations, I rode to the farmhouse, and, reaching it, locked myself in my office, there to endeavor to arrive at some conclusion, to choose a way out of my uncertainty. I sat there for hours before I achieved a decision, and it was hardly more than a compromise. In justice to Dr. Banks, I would tell him it was out of my power to enter into u permanent arrangement with him, for eventually I should seek a more jjopulous district; if he cared for a temporary alliance, such terms as he offered should be accepted. Catchiug eight of the newspaper in my pocket, I drew it out, and, as 1 did so, the letter fell from its folds to the floor. I picked it up and read the ad dress, written in a feminine hand, all angles and straight lines, like the frame work of a house, yet clear uud legible. The postmark was New York. With waxing curiosity, for my correspond ence was extremely limited, I broke the seal. "Mv dear l>r. Morris," the letter ran. "mv aunt, Mrs. Loring, desires to learn whether it will be convenient for you to receive her as a patient, and whether rooms eun be secured for us near your office. She has tried a number of treat ments since the voyage from Bio, bnt none of them has been of marked bene fit to her. She remembers gratefully the success attending your ministra tions on shipboard, and feels confident that your skill will bring her the relief she has sought so long. She asks me to add that this plan was in her mind when our chance meeting made it possible to secure your address. "Yours very sincerely, "Doßornv G HAY." 'Again and again I read these lines, "poring over them as joyously as ever did Egyptologistover freshly discovered hieroglyphs which set at rest a much mooted point. Out above the rest of the letter stood two words, "for us." Mrs. boring's niece would hardly leave her, but here was proof that both of them would come to Rodneytovvn. That 1 could succeed in convincing the elder lady that nothing serious ailed her was hardly jiossible; it was quite on the cards that after a month or two she would depart in a huff; but, in the mean time —well, I didn't trouble myself with the details of that problematical period. The great central point of in terest was that f<*r several weeks, at least, Dorothy Gray and I would be thrown together. For the moment Lamar, Banks, and all my recent wor ries were forgotten. "Mrs. Weston," said I, pouncing upon that good woman as she passed the door of the office, "please do me a great favor. I have un old friend—patient, I mean —who is anxious to put herself under my care. I must find a boarding place for her. Can't you take her in?" "Well, now, I'd real like to, doctor, but I ain't got tlie room," she an swered, with kindly regret in her tone. "Is she all by herself?" "No, she isn't," I confessed. "Her niece is with her." "Little girl, is she?" "No; a young lady," I answered, try ing to avoid the consciousness of a twinkle in my hostess' eye. "It's too bad, I'm sure; but we're a pretty full house as it is." said she. "How ever, don't get discouraged. Try Mis' Clark across the road; she don't use half that big house since her boys went out west. It'll lie n good place, too. Mis' Clark's a good provider, and as neat as a hull paper of pins." Over the way to the house of Clark I hastened, only to find its mistress dis inclined to receive boarders. "City folks' notions," she averred, were not to be endured. But she began to re lent a little when 1 put her yielding on the ground of a personal favor; and when I dwelt prni rously on Mrs. Wes ton's praise of her us a housekeeper, she led me upstairs to two rooms, spiuk and. span and very oni'ortuble withal, and, with pretended ungraciousness, said that my friends could occupy them, provided they could "stand plain livin' and plainer comp'ny." f closed the bargain on the spot. Mrs. Weston met me at her door, on my return late that afternoon from a drive, iu the course of which the an swer to Miss Gray's letter hud been in trusted to the mail. "You look like a new man," said she, approvingly. "Sakes ulive! how get tin' a new patient does perk you young doctors up!" "The more the merrier, of court-e," said I. "You're lucky to get two such speetul j Buff"reis. You'll be gettin" rich, what > with tl}9 new one -and tin* old on?*oT(Tf She pointed to the bouse on the knoll, which showed a dark spot among the low lands lying about it fresh and green and britrht in the slanting rays of th« setting sun, now Hearing the creet.s of the hills to the west. "Seems like a blot on our landscape, don't it?" she said, with her eye* still ti\ed on the somber mound. "Yes," thought I. in more ways than one." {TO JUS ooxrtxito.] WEN WHO WEAR NO OVERCOATS. letter (ttrrl.-ra, Comlaetora HUII Other tlHOM'ii Who I>o Without Them. "Man is a clothes-wearing aniiuai," ,i\.- Carlyle in his "Sartor Kcsartus," but his description of thet-e garments would have lieen curtailed had a cer tain class of men, who never wenrover- Conts, come within the limHw of his ob servation. There are hundreds of men in this city who do not wear overcoats ut any time during the year. Prominent among tlteHi air the letter cariier*. They do not wear overcoats because it Is against the rules of the post office department. A nniform of gray wa-s designed for them, atid they haw to wear it the year round. Of course the summer uniform U of lighter v eight than those they wear during the winter months The only exception Is the rubber coat, which it> considered part of the uniform, and is allowed on rainy days. The writer asked a letter carrier if he did not feel the need of an overcoat. "It would be u little more eouifortuble just for to-day," he said, "but this weather won't last, and so I'll get through all right wlthoutone. The first winter I wits in the department It was terrible for me, and I thought I would freeze, but Tve got used to being with out one now, and don't mind the cold weather at all." Another great chuss of workers sel dom seen wearing overcoats are the messenger boys. No overcoat la In cluded In their uniform either, but there arc no rules prohibiting them from wearing these garments if they desire, Al times one may see a messenger with a coat over his uniform, but he is usu ally a new boy or a delicate chap who cannot stand the cold, for the majority of the messengers do not care to wear coats. Since the Introduction of the new uni forms in the street cleaning depart ment the übsenee of overcoats on street sweepers is much noticed. Prior to this, change these men presented a motley 1 sight during the winter mortths. On cold days they wrapped themselves in all sorts of ragged and tattered coats, and even tied bagging about their feet In order to keep warm. Although the uniform of white duck does not present a very comfortable aspect, the men keep warm by wearing heavy short coats and a pair or two of heavy trousers under neath, and If they stick to their work properly they will never feel the need of a bulky overcoat. Elevated railroad guards, as a class, do not wear overcoats, although one is included in the uniform. They usually bundle up snugly underneath their short jacket, and, as they are allowed to pass their time betweon stations in side the cars, they do not find an over cdat at all necessary to their comfort.' Few of them resort to an overcoat ex cepting In very stormy weather. Sailors never wear overcoats, and, more than that, they never bundle up jiround their necks. It is rare to see a sailor with the collar of his pea-jacket turned up around his neck. As a rule they walk along in the fiercest breeze with nearly one-fourth of their chests bared, and, as a class, they are free from colds and diseases of the lungs. Many health experts hnve argued about the use of overcoats, and the con sensus of opinion Is that people wrap up too much In winter time. Many men can afford overcoats who do not War them except during zero w eat her. They claim that overcoat wearing is a habit, and not only unnecessary, but detri mental to health. A writerjn this city has not worn an overcoat In five years, and he has not had a cold during that period.—N. Y. World. PLAYING POKER FOR KEEPS. This W»»m the btlffeat name tor Yfun on the r»<-lAo ComK "The biggest game of poker ) have heerd of in the past few years," said one of the Californiaus at the Capitol, "was played In Son Francisco about two years ago between Lucky Baldwin and a California cattle man. "The game was limited, but one by one the players dropped out until no body was left in bat Baldwin and the cattle man. They agreed to waive the limit, and the cattle man set the pace. "lie wanted to bet SIO,OOO. Baldwin stayed and offered to go him SIO,OOO bet ter. The cattle owner scratched his head, and said he didn't have that much to lose, but he would like to put up his cattle as collateral. Baldwin was agree able, nnd the cattle were assessed at ten dollars a bead. ,v Then the cattleman raised Baldwin SIO,OOO. That made Baldwin scratch hi* head and hem and haw a little. lie said lie wns in the same predicament as his friend. He didn't have quite that much to lone. " 'But,' said Baldwin, 'you know tny house On Market street,' giving ihe number of the property! 'well, I'll pit that against 750 of your cattle, making a total of $75,000.' "Tli« cattleman agreed, and then it came to a show down. The ruralist laid ded of the new art movement. If 1 Imd jjot attempted that pester« tTeet. I should now Wufree man." IVtroit Tribune. - Ifc-acon Jones "So John C'nrvei if umong the converted'!" I>eacon Rrowlj - "Yes. but Carvel is without a past; tie won't out any tisrtirt) at praise nux-d ings."- -lloston Tmiisoript —Teacher—"What does h-a-m-ni-o-C spell V Tommy "Don't know, ma'am. Teacher—"What does your mothey drive nails with, stupid?" Tommy— "A strive lifter." -Snn Francisco Wave. —Mrs. L>e Stoile-—"l>ld you onjoy tLa opera ?" Mrs. Fushion—"Vury much. We had a i>ox, and the H'Joneses sat right opposite us in the circle. It WTIIJ glorious!"— Philadelphia North Amer ican. —Theater Manager—-"Your* l£ tbo best minstrel show wo hav<> bnd hftre fof ten years. Where did you get on to all those new jokes?" Interlocutor "On® of the end men got hold of u file of onp of last year's English jomci* n' mt it year ago." -SommervMe Journal —lndispensable. **l dou't think X want n cyclopaedia," said tl»e woman of the house, "but If you have got any nic€ books for children —" "Great Scott, maaveof liquid agony, your chest seems bursting from the w-elgbt of your lungs and the feeling is cne of oppression and suffering from the moment the first drop of water surges into the throat to the time you die or are rescued. This time I have taken gns, and t he sensations are more like what the story writers say of drowning. I had a good time while in sensible, and was just arguing over 9 bit of land with a neighbor when I came to and began to spit out chuijjcs of tooth. The after effects? Well, I hftVO a pain in my gums and feel sleepy (uij shaky on my pina. I think I will take a nap right now." And the man who had just lost a tooth began a quiet slumber In his chair,—Chl» cago News. Hidden, Though In Sight* All hunters are aware how difficult it Is t»> oatoh sight of woodcocks ol* par tridges sitting among the fallen leaves. Not only do tie sober colors of the birds blend deceptively with their surround ings, but they manage also to disguise the outlines of their bodies. In Scot' land recently photographs have been made of woodcocks concealed in leftv«s, and these pictures, while revealing the birds, show at the same tiiye how In geniously the cunning creaturea hare disposed their wings, tails and heads so as to mislead the prying eyes of ene mies. The bright, watchful eye of the bird is its owner's surest betrayer, even in the photographs. Youth's Com panion. Ho Answered the Question. The following amusing passage took place between counsel and witness in a disputed will case: "Did your father give you no parting udmonltlon?" "He never gave much away at any time.*' "I mean to say, what were his last words ?" "They don't concern you." "They not only concern me, sir," re marked the barrister, severely, "but they concern the w hole court." "Oh, all right," was the reply. "Father said: 'Don't have no trouble when Tin gone, Jim, 'cos lawyers is the biggest thieves unhung.' "—Titbits. At the Wrong House. Tramp—Please, mum, I'm starring. Won't you let me have a (Mjstage stamp to lick? Experienced Housekeeper—Why, cer tainly. My husband is just finishing a letter to 15ob FitzslminOns, offering to fight him anywhere, at any time, for SIO,OOO ft side. Marquis of Queensberry rules. Wait until he is through, and perhnj>s he'll let you put the stamp on. Tramp (hastily departing)—Thftnkeo kindly, mum, but maybe I can git a rtamp at the next house without Wait ing—N. Y. Weekly. Couldn't Crawl Out pf It. The tiir wan halmv ami the stArn were peeping nt the lovers through thn young foliage of the park trees. '"Agatha," he cooed, "here amid the sweet breath of lilac flowers and vio lets let us linger, drinking in dear love from cnch nther's eyes and dreaming of the heaven that.is before—" "See here, John Tipes, that there ice creftin plnce'll be closing presently, and yon ain't going to get out of a straight promise by talking poetry at me." With a profound sigh the young man ru-use, for it lacked yet four days of sal ary time.—Texas Bi'ftings. Friendship hath the skill and ob» serration of the l>est physician, the dili gence and vigilance of the l>e«t nurtte, and the tenderness and pntlPriW trf tbQ best mother. —Lord ClarcntTiu.