VOL* xxxiv Better Late Than Never. ONLY A FEW DAYS MORE AND BICKEL S GREAT ODD AND END SALE WILL CLOSE. The Attention of Shrewd Cash Buyers is Called to This Adv. The Following Goods Must Be Sold At Once. 180 pairs ladies' ljeavy fhoes f 1 200 pairs childV grain shoes t 5 150 pairs ladies' fine se:ge slippers 3 280 pairs igood gram slippers. = ' 126 pairs inen's-double sole heavy suoes.. M Cases Rubber Boots and Shoes to be closed out K|| Regardless of Cost. \J\J The Above Mentioned Goods Are at Half Price READ ON, DEAR READERS -READ ON, 300 pairs men's fine buff shoes f 1 7 5 400 pairs men's working shoes 95 98 pairs Russia calf shoes * 5° 130 pairs fine calf shoes (latest style) 2 00 200 pairs boy's fine shoes tipped 1 00 180 pairs youth's buff shoes 75 Large Stock of Men s and Boys Plow Shoes, Cheap. These goods are all warranted to be perfect in every respect and they are only •old at prices named on them to make room for the new goods. If you want to get some footwear cheap—take in this sale. New Spring Goods Arriving almost every day and too much cannot be said in praise of them. ASK to see our line of ladies'' and gents chocalate, wine color and fine Dongola shoes, they are beauties, and also our line of Oxfords in different colors. Repairing Done. REMEMBER THE PLACE. JOHN BICKEL. 128, S. MAIN St BUTLER, PA. T; H. BURTON, T. H. BURTON, "THE BEST I've seen for the money," said an enthusiastic buyer who had visited every store, reserving ours for the last, "and when I leave my $12.00 I feel as if I had an siß.ocf suit for it." Noth ng new to us, we always did claim to give the best—always felt as if the pub lic knew it too.. We would like you to compare any thing you see elsewhere for SIO.OO or even $12.00 with our $7.50. T. H. BURTON, T. H BURTON, 120 S. MAIN ST. BUTLER, FA. I'M NOBODY, BUT JUST G F KECK Merchant Tailor, U. I. l\l.un, ■. 142 NOKTH MAIN ST.. BUTLER, PA. Vet I know a few things, among others, that I am an up-to-date tailor —The Latest in CUT Aad WORKMANSHIP—in price—most moderate. Where e'se can you get such combinations? You do get them of us, the finest made-to-order clothing. Call and examine onr large stock of goods, RcmcMber The Plaea G F KECK Merchant Tailor, ■ ■ !*■■"■*? 142 N. MAIN ST., BUTLER, PA. J. S. Young. J. S. Young. I desire to thank the public for their very liberal pat ronage since I went into the merchant tailoring buiness, and to show my appreciation of the same; and in order to make room for the extensive line of spring goods that are daily arriving, I will s_ll anything in my stock » at greatly reduced prices. J. S. YOUNG, Tailor.: 101 S. MAIN St., - - - BUTLER, PA roc .... ;--cocx/^ooo3C»ooooc)ooooooooooooooo?yOc IPllflC* €p is 1 tuality >j|Power. Hitch your ai j§But be surel business V p it's in a | works to a J M Fahys Gold-1 good watch, jf™ Tilled Case, | I # And that you buy it from # Kl* W, ..4 Trw. DIRECTOR*. Alfred Wick, Henderson Oliver, Dr. W. frvln. James Htepheiiscn. W. W. Rlackinore. N. Weltwl. F. Bowman. li. J. Kllnuler. Geo. Ketterer. <'has. Keliliiin. Geo. Keuno, John Koenle. 10YAL McJUNKIN Agent. Practical Horse Shoer (I WILL ROBINSON, formerly Horse j) Shoer.et the Wick House has opened business in a shop in the • ' rear of the Arlington Hotel, where he will do Horse-Shoeing X in the most approved style. # TRACK AND ROAD HORSES A -JT SPECIALTY. mw IS THE TIME T 0 HAVE null Your Clothir\g CLEANED or DYED If you 'vant good an j re |i a b] e cleaning or dyeing done, there is just one place in town where you can get it, and that is at IHf BUTLFR WORKS 210 Center avenue. do fine work in out door Photographs. This is the time of year to have a picture ot your house. Give us a trial. Agent for the .Jamestown Sliding Blind Co—New York. R. FISHER SON, I B. BREDI.V. "• ATTOR.NKY AT LAW. Office on Main St. near Court House. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. *l*l* Librurr ' Jul} 9? Eany to Take any to Operate Are features f -culiar to flood's Pills. Small la size, tasteless, Efficient, thorough. As one man Hood's said: " You ni rer know you _ _ have taken a t ill till it is all -II over." 25c. C.". Hood & Co., 111 Proprietors, i owell, Mass. ™ TUe only piUs o take with Hood's Sarsaparilla. Thin Is Your Opportunity. On receipt of ten cents, cash or stamps, a generous sample will be mailed of thfl most popular Catarrh and Hay Fever Cure , (Ely's Cream Balm) sufficient to demon strate the great merits of the remedy. ELY BROTHERS, 56 Warren St , New York City. Rev. John Reid, Jr.. of Great Falls, Mont., recommended Ely's Cream Balm to me. I can emphasize his statement, '"lt is & posi tive cure for catarrh if nsed as directed." — Rev. Francis W. Poole, Pastor Central Pres. Church, Helena, Mont. Ely's Cream Balm is the acknowledged cure for catarrh and contains no mercury nor any injurious drug. Price, SO cents. PENNSYLVANIA WESTEN PENNSYLVANIA DIVISIN. RAILHEAD TiME TA hi FJ-. Western Pernsylvan.a Division. Schedule in effect Nov. 1C 1896 South.—»— Week Days A. M. A. » A. M. r. M. V. M Bctlk* Leave C:£s 800 11 .*> 245 f> 6-5 HaVODbure. .Arrive 6 825 114.; 310 rill tier Jet.. •• 72; B \f. 12 or 335 5 5.1 duller Jet... .Leave 730 848 12 12 335 533 Natroua Arrive V3B 858 1221 345 602 Tarentum <42 903 12 26 352 GOT SprlllfCda.lt 750 912 12 38 402 Ciar«rnont 925 12 53 416 627 Sharpst-arg 807 931 10l 422 632 Allegheny City 820 943 115 434 0 4.'i A. it. A. M. P. M. r. M. r. M SIJIIMY TRAINS Leave Butler lor Alle uti< :iy City ami orlDclpal Intermediate -tatlotis 7:40 A. M„ ?:io and 5 00 P. M. North. ■—. Week Days A. It. A. M, A. M. .M. V, M, Allegheny City..Lv. 700 900 11 25 2 530 SUarpv'jurg *ll 912 11 37 2So ... oidreniout 919 1145 2:s Spring-dale 930 1159 315 557 Tareutum 732 939 12 08 3 2-* 607 Natrona 737 943 12 13 336 012 flutter Jc't Ar 745 950 1223 3 4 1 . 6io ISi.tler JC't Lv 745 950 12 34 34S 620 Saxoiiburg 810 10 15 12 59 413 644 rfcr.-.Eii Ar. 835 lo 38 125 438 71 0 A. If. A. M. F. M, r. M. r- M. SUNDAY TRAINS- Leave Allegheny I'll;- for B'lileraud principal intermediate stations 7i5 A. *>.. 1230 and 7:15 r. M. Week Days For the Kaf-C Week Days, a. in. a. m. p m p. in. 1120 (3 25 Lv BUTLEB. .. Ar .... 125 12 07 7 27 Ar Butler Jc't Lv 12 114 3 13pra7 45 Lv Br.ller Jc't Ar 830 12 31 318 749 Ar Fret-port.. Lv 828 12 30 322 753 " A lies';-Jc't •' 824 2i 333 804 " Leech burn.. " B '2 12 12 350 821 "F For detailed information, aJdro '8 'ibos. F. Watt, Paes. A fit. Western Dii".rict, eor Jilth Ave. tied Smithfield St , Pittsburg, t'a. M HUTCHISON, J. R. WOOD, Oejera! S« aiaper. Gen'l Tassr A emit pITTSHUKG & WESTERN Railway. Allegheny Short Line. Schedule in effect, July 19, 1896. Butler Time, Depart. Arrive Allegheny Accommodation.. 6 2.-, arn 9 25 am Allegheny Flyer 8 15 arn 10 00 am Akron Mall 8 15 am 7 30 pm Newcastle Accorao 8 15am !i 25 am Allegheny Accomo 10 05 am 12 20 pin Allegheny Express :2 55 pm 4 55 pm Chicago Express 3 35 pm 12 20 pm Allegheny Mall 6 05 pm 7 :i) pm Kllwood Accomo 1 6 05 ptri 7 30 pm erica go Express 6 05 pin u 25 am Allegheny Express s 00 pm Kane and Bradford Mall 10 06 am SSO pm Clarion Accomo 5 15 pm 950 am Foxburg Accomo 7 35 prn 8 05 am SUNDAY TRAINS. l)e Forest Jet. Accomo 8 15 am 7 Dpm Allegheny Accomo j 10 00 am Chicago Express 3 38 pm 4 55 pm Allegheny Accomo I 6 05 put 4 50 pin I'ullman Buffet Sleeping Oars and .Irst cla » "lay Coaches run through between Butler and Chicago dallv. For through tickets to points . the West Northwest or Southwest apply to A. B. CROUCH. Agent Butler, Fa Trains leave the B. wn. Morgartowt and Fairmont. 7,30. a. in. and 5,30 p. m, Mt.Pleasant 6.40. 7.30 a. m. .10 and 4.30 pm. Washlngten, i'a., 7.40 and 30 a. m., 4.0U.4.45 and 9.00. 11.55 p. in. Wheel rg, 7.40. an<) 9.30 a. m.. and 4.00. 9.00. 11.55 p, u. Cincinnati. St, lyoula. Coliirnliua and New ark. 7.40 a. m., 9.10, 11.55 p.m. For Chicago, 2.40 ai, l 9.30 p. m Parlor ma sleeping cars to Baltimore W a>>h- Ini'on. t'lnclDiiatl and Cblcavo. H. 0. DUNKLK, den. Supt. Allei?hony, Pa C. W. HAFHKTT, A.G.P.A . Allegheny, Pa K. P. KKYUOLDS, Supt.. Foxburg, Pa rpHE IMTTSHUHG, SHENAN GO & LAKE ERIE RAILROAD TIMK TABLE—In effect Sunday, Doc. 30, 18PG. Trains are run by Standard Cen tral Time (90th Meridian). tanNOKTH. (ioiNo SOUTH I 14 I 12 STATIONS If i l3 p.ni 'pi' p.m. Arrl'ufTalo Lv 'ea.m. a.m. "tn .... ! 5 4o 2 30 L. S.ftM.S 8 36 u 1.-, ... | 4 55| N. 1■ < .ftSt.l, 5 36| 12 06 p.in a. m, ... 207 91 0 Erie 11 00 100 1 8 27. Wallace Junct 11 4 > 1»o ....' 1 18 825 (ilrard 11 15 < 4:j .... 107 813 Lockport II .'x, 16t 1 11 001 6 s!.lv.Connea'-' lv.. ill iiii| 4 09 .... I 1 47| 9 ooar ar ....| I 4', 6of ... ii« bo, 7 war Albion, .W 12 o*| oh ....,12 4» 7 45 .. Shadelrind 12 20 5 10 .... jl2 «1' 7 12... sprlngboro 12 24 517 oi r, « \ 49 c 32 noil 01 Fredonla... 7 00 2 07 4'l!l0 47 Mercer 7 !'. 2 2", 28 10 33 Pardon 7 3* 2 :i8 18 10 2:1 drove (111y... 74« 2 4 05 10 10 Ilurrlsvllie.... 7 58 3 co 57|10 (»■ Brancluon.... 8 oc 3 00 ' 53 9571 v.. .Kela.crs .... 8 10 3 i > •w 9 44; Euclid h 82 ;t 'j', "'I » ir-| llutler 8 50| 3 55! 220 7 20' Allegheny, i'AWll t|i 705 .*.. p in * tn a. m p. m .. J. T. BI.AI IC, (ieneral Manager, Greenville, i-a W . «}. hA Kfi PA NT <1 P A.. Meadvllle Pa BERKIMER, Funeral Director, 337 S. Main St., Butler. BUTLER, THURSDAY, APRIL« 22, 1897, CamKJCBRBIEii [Copyright. 1594. by J. B. Lippincott Company.] The conductor had eyed Lambert cu liously as he punched his ticket. He held it for a moment and edged his lan tern around so that its feeble light could reinforce the glimmer from the •bleared and smoky globe above Lam bert's curly head. The train had started from the junction with that quick series of back-wrenching jerks which all vet eran travelers remember as character istic of American railways, before the introduction of "coupler buffers." It was a shabby, old-fashioned train —one whose cars had "seen service," and not a little of it, during the long and event ful war so recently closed. It had a baggage car behind the wheezy old wood-burner that drew the rickety pro cession out into the dim, starlit aisle through the eastward forest, and, for the first time in a week, that baggage car contained a trunk. It had a "smok er," in which three or four negroes were soundly sleeping on the worn cushions at the forward end. and three or four lank, shabbily-dressed whites were con suming tobacco and killing time under the single lamp at the other. It had a "ladies' car"—so called —in which no ledies were visible, and which differed in appointments from the smoker only in the facts that its seats were uphol stered in dingy red plush instead of blackened canvas, and that both its lemps could be induced to burn, how ever feebly, instead of only one. It was a forloror, hangdog', shame-faced sort of train, that seemed oppressed with o sense of its own disrepute —a train that kept in hiding during the broad light of day and ventured to slink forth only after nightfall, like some impoverished debtor, not loving the darkness better than light because of evil deeds, but hating it as it hated its own shabbiness, and accepting it as only one plane above total decrepitude, the junk shop and the ]>oorhouse. Starting at dusk from a populous station on a north and south trunk" line. It turned and twisted through red clay cuttings, jolted over inud-covered tics and moss-grown tres tles, whistling shrill to wake the watch ers at 'crcss-country stations on the way, and finally, after midnight, rested an hour at a prominent point, a "state center," where, sometimes at one o'clock but generally long after, the night express came glaring up from the south along the glistening rails of an other "great northern" route, and three nights in the week, perhupe, gave it a sleepy passenger or two to trundle away westward towards the big river town it managed to reach by sunrise, once more to slink out of sight until dark, when again it crept forth and stole away on the return trip over its clank ing road, unresentful of cominenton its loneliness and poverty, and proud, if anything, of the fact that this way, at least, it ran "righl end foremost," ac cording to the American idea, with the baggage instead of the ladies' car next the struggling engine. It was a clear, starlit night, sharply cold, and the planks of the platform at the junction had snapped and creaked under their glistening white coat of frosty rime. The up train came in even later than usual —so much so that the btationmaster had more than once asked hia friend the conductor of the waiting "Owl" whether he really thought he could "make it" over to Quit man in time for the down express at dawn. "You'd better puil out the min ute she gits hyuh," was his final in junction when at last her whistle was heard. A lithe, active young felloin a trim suit of tweed had sprung from the hleeper before the incoming train had fairly stopped, and, hailing the first man he raw, asked: "Train for Tuga/- 100 gone yet?" which so astonished the party addressed that he simply stared lor a minute -without reply. A voice in the wilderness, apparently, was heard .above the hissing of steam and the loud mouthings of the negro porters of the two rival hotels. "All aboard for Quit man," it said, and, abandoning his ap parent purpose of repeating the ques tion in vharper tone, the young fellow turned and rail nimbly across the dlm ly-liglited platform in the direction of 1 he hail. "Quitman train ?—Tugatoo?" ha asked of a dark form standing nbove the tail light of the car. "Quitman it is. Anybody else thar?" And the interrogative went off in a shout. No answer. "Aw, nankl Anybody else?" Still no answer. Two or three dim figures were by this time clustered around the flaring torch of a coffee stand at the edge of the platform. The conductor got off and walked impatiently towards them. "Any you gentlemen for Quitman?" he asked. "Quitman? Hell, nol What's any man want to go thar for night like this? Pull out with your old sneezer, Jimmy, 'nless you'll stop and take a cup coffee." "Oh, that you, cap? Ain't you got anybody for us? Thought the judge was ootn in' up to-night." "Warn't on my car," said the brake man of the express. possessively. "Young feller 'n the sleeper all I know of." "(rot him," answered the conductor, as briefly as possible for a man long attuned to the southern drawl and whose "got" was mor« like "gawt." "Reckon we might, as well git, then," he continued, returning to the colloquial present indicative of a verb of manifold meaning and usefulness. "Tell Itank, will you?— Let 'er go. Jack," he shouted to the engineer, with a wave of his lan tern. A yelp from the whistle was the answer; the fireman crawled out from a warm corner in the Imggtige car and shambled drowsily forwurd to the cab. Kudden jets of steam flew hissing out on the frosty ulr. One after another the three ears lunged sharply forward and then slowly rolled forth into the night. The conductor clambered up the rear steps with parting wave of his lantern, slammed the door after him and came up the narrow aisle to look at his pas senger. Before he bad time to speak, however, his attention wasnttractedby a succession of yells from the track to their rear. Giving an angry yank at the bell rope he whirled about and hurried to the door. The train came willingly to a sudden stand, and Lam hert, stowing bis hand luggage on th» empty seat before him, heard the fol lowing lively colloquy, as did everybody else wbo happened to be awake and within a radius of 200 yards: "What d'you want?" "Come back hyuh, I s»y." "What d'you wa-a-nt? I ain't goin' to back in thar now." "Huyh's a trunk." "Wha-atr* "A tru-u-nk." "Why in hell didn't yon sling It abawd flhst off?" sung out-the conductor, dis gustedly. "Ain't you felluhs got any brains? Back np. Jack!" he shouted forward, signaling with his lantern again. "Somebody's left a band-bawx, by crlminy!" And so, growling volubly, the custodian of the "Owl" him self out from the steps, hanging by the left hand to the iron railing and hold ing extended his preen and white lan tern with the other. A couple of stal wart negroes came panting forward to meet them, the offending trunk on their shoulders, and went stumbling up the sloping embankment towards the slow ly-backing baggage car. The light from the lantern fell on the new canvas cover and on the freah brown finish of the straps and handles, then on the inscrip tion in bold black letters at the end 1 I. N. LAMBERT, U. s Army. At sight of which tho conductor checked the half jocular, half resentful tirade he was composing for the bene fit of the stationmaster and abruptly asked: "Whuh's it goin'?" "Tugaloo, suh," said the rearmost, negro. "Well, hump it abawd, 'n' be quick about it." Then, raising his voice, he shouted across the platform: "Bhuah you ain't gawt a feedin'-bnwtle or a cake o' soap or s'm' other t Aek to fetch me back ogain. Hank? iJawg gawn 'f I leckon we ever will get to Quitman *t this rate!" The darkies about tho coffee-stand gave a truffaw of sympathetic rejoicing over the official's humor. The conductor was evidenty more popuar than the station master. One of the trunk bear ers came lunging in at the front door of the car, and, humble yet confident, ap pealed to Lambert: "Little somerthin', suh, fur totin' de trunk. Bin los', mos' like, 'f it- had n' bin f'r us. ThaAky, suh. Thanky." And the negro's eyes danced, for the douceur handed him by the young owner of the vagrant burgage exceeded his hopes. He strove, indeed, to tbrn and renew his thanks at the rear door, but was collared and hustled unceremoni ously off the car. "You ain't goin* to get off at Togaloo this time o' night?" asked the conduc tor, finally, and with that odd em phasis expressive, of doubt as to a pas senger's knowledge of his own inten tions so often heard in our thinly-settled districts. Lainbe*t interpreted it to niean "Anybody else, perhaps, but not you." He was already eogitating as to whether or not the conductor had In tended some covert sneer in his recent reference to "feeding-bottles," for Lam ert was but one-and-twenty, and youth ful-look ing for his years. The tone of this inquiry and the look which ac companied it aftrr deliberate pause and study of ihe proffered ticket, however, Mere far from aggressive or discour teous, yet the unintentional misplacing of the emphasis, following an allusion equally hapless and alike unintentional, had given umbrage to the boy. "You must expect to hear no end of unpleas ant things," he had been told at depart ment headquarters, where he had re ceived orders to go on and join his com j>any, then In camp at Tugaloo. "Every body is mighty sore yet over the late tin pleawntness. Hold your tongue and keep your temper," were the parting in junctions; and he meant to do both. All the same he did not Intend to allow people to treat him with discourtesy— certainly not a condaetor of a publle railway. Lambert was on his dignity in a moment. He looked the railway man straight in the eye and replied, with all the calm and deliberation be could master: "My ticket would seem to indicate that such was my intention," und nlmost immediately regretted it, for the conductor looked up in sudden surprise, stood one instant irresolute, then saying: "Oh"! All right," turned abruptly away, walked up beyond the stove, and roughly shaking the elbow ot a snoring passenger, sung out: "Coates vllle," and let himself out with an em phatic bang of the door. Two days later, when asked at Quit' maji what sort, of a fellow the new lien tenant seemed to be, Mr. Scroggs, the conductor, himself a soldier of large ex perience and no llttJe ability—a man who had fought his way from the rank* to the command of the remnant of a reg iment that laid down its battered arms cmong the very last, n man not five years Lambert's senior in age, but lustrujn® nhead of him in the practical details of Ms profession—Mr. Scroggs, the con ductor, promptly said: "He's a dam lit tle fool," and never dreamed how much h» should one day deplore it. "Newt" Lambert, as he was known among his intimates, was far from be ing a fool. He had seen very little of the world, it is true, and, until this De cember night, next to nothing of the sunny south, where nt this particular period in our national history It was not every man who could so conduct himself ns not to fall into error. More especial ly in the military service was an old head needed on young shoulders, and a strong head between new shoulder straps, for army life so soon after the great warwas beset by snares and temp tat ions It rurely hours of now, und many a fellow, brave and brainy both, in the days that tried men's souls 'twfxt Big Hethel und Appomattox, or Bel mont and IJentonville, wentdown In the unequal turtle with foe far more in sidious than faced him in the field, but which met him day and night now thnt peace had come. It was at a time when the classes gruduntlng from the mili tary ncudemy were lielng assigned main ly to the staff corps and to the artillery and cavalry regiment#. Lambert fan cied that he should prefer the associa tions nnd much prefer the stations of the art illery to those of any other corps, but an old friend of his father's, himse! f a veteran gunner, advised the young fellow to seek his fortune elsewhere. "If you are commissioned a lieutenant of artillery." said he. "It may be ?0 years before you see your captaincy." And. thouph this was within three years after the reorganization of the army In '66, not one of Lambert's contem poraries who trusteil to luck and ap plied for the artillery had yet come within hopeful ranee of the double hars. Lambert amnzed them all when lie Rslevl for the infnntrr arm »nd took his commission thankfully. lie had been detailed for summer duty ut the Point, as was theu » custom, so that his leave of absence of thr*e months did not begin until the 28th of August. He had been assigned to a regiment whose ranks were sadly de pleted by the yellow fever, and which was still serving in the south. "You won't have to hoof it out to Idaho or Montana, anyhow," said u sympathetic friend, "and you'll have no end of fun at New Orlenns." Hut Lambert's company was not at New Orleans. Under recent orders it had beeu sent up into the heart of the eountry, where some turbulent spirits, so it was alleged, had been defying the civil officers of the general government, and by the time the short southern win ter set In more than half his regiment, together with three or four others, had been distributed by companies or de tachments all over the gulf states, and experienced officers were scarce as hens' teeth. The duty was unwelcome and galling. Lambert's captain lost no time in getting on staff duty, and G Com pany went into camp ot Tugaloo under command of its first lieutenant. Ar riving at New Orleans, Lambert report ed himself at the headquarters of the general commanding, who knew the boy's father, welcomed the son for old friendship's sake, and told his chief of staff to keep him there a week or so, that he might see something of the southern metropolis and of his friends down at the barracks before going to his exile "up the road." Dining the very next evening at Capt. Crani's, with Waring and Pierce, of the light battery, and perhaps rather ruefully agreeing with them that he had "made a beastly fluke of It, going into the doughboys," Lambert was asked: "Who's In com mand of your company now?" "Our first lieutenant," said he. "I don't know much about him —Hrevet Capt. Close." Whereupon Waring laid down his knife and fork. "Angels aril ministers of grace!" he exclaimed. "Well, if that isn't the oddest contre-tomps I ever heard of!" And then they all be gan to laugh. "You evidently know him," said Lam bert. somewhat nettled and a trifle ill at ease. "Why did you ask me about him? Somebody told me he had been commissioned for heroism special bravery in action, or something of that kind—during the war." "Gospel truth." said Pierce. "Closo is the most .absolutely fearless man I ever met. Nothing even Waring could ever do or say would ruffle him." And then, though Mrs. Cram declared ft n shame, she, too, joined in the general laughter. Close was evidently a celeb rltv. And now, as Lambert found himself within a few miles —though it might be several hours—of liis destination, he was thinking not a little of the officer to whose presence he was so soon to re port his own, and whose compnnionshlp and influence, for good or for ill, he was bound to aecept for the simple reason that, so far as lie could lenrn. there was absolutely no one else with whom he could associate —except, possibly, the "contract do -tor." Quitting New Orleans nfier n long dnv's s'ght-seein" v-ith li * friends, be had sought a berth in the Pullman and ilept soundlj- until aroused by the porter after two o'clock to change cars at the junction. Now he wns wide awake, and, after tho first few miles of jolting and grinding through the darkness, was becoming chilled and lonesome —per- haps a trifle homesick. Twice had the conductor bustled through the train, rousing sleeping passengers and see ing them safely off at dark'and mys terious stations where hardly a glimmer of lamp or candle could be seen away from the mere shanty which served as a waiting-room atid office. A heap of wood wa , stacked up near the jtove, and Lambert poked the waning em bers aad piled on fresh fuel, whereat a young man who had got on at Coates ville with a shotgun and a big bottle for luggage, and who had for nearly an hour been singing sentimental snatches to his own deep satisfaction, now smiled maudlin approval nnd companionably held forth the l>ottle. "'S good," said he, in loyal defense of the stimulant most courteously declined. "lies'thing you can take these eo' mawning's. Live 'bout hyuh an'where?" "No," said Lambert, civilly, yet hop ing not to be further questioned. He busied himself again with the fire, then, rising quickly, sought his seat. But the young mnn w|th the flask was gregarious and bubbling over with tho milk of human kindness. lie promptly lurched after, and, flopping down on the opposite seat, sending some of Lambert's belongings clatter ing to the floor, held out his hand. " 'Scuse me, suli," he stuttered. "I hope I ain't 'fended you. My name's Potts—Barton Potts. We ain't what we were befo' the wah, you know. But I know a gen'l'm'n—every time. Hope —I ain'—'suited—" "Not by any means!" protested Lnm l>ert, loudly and heartily. "Don't think of such a thing! I simply didn't feel like drinking; but I'm a thousand times obliged to you." "Tha'z right. Tha'z all right," said Mr. Potts, grasping Lambert's hand and shaking It Impressively. "I—hello! Wha'z that?" Lambert's sword, encased In chamois skin, had come in contact with the stranger's elbow and gone rattling under the seat. Pott« made a precipi tate dive and fished it out, regnlning liia equilibrium after some little struggle. "Goin' to Quitman —too? Tha'z my home. An' I'm glad —meet you. I "Too Ain't (roin* to ir«t off nt Tusuloo thin tlm* o' nlff ht P" know a gen'l'm'n—an' I'll stun' your frien'—l mean It. Missur Misspr " "My uame's I.ambert," said the lieu tenant, quietly essaying to relieve Mr. Potts of the sword. "Latmnert? (i hid—meet you Missur Lamuiert. Where'd you say yon b'longed V" ''i'lP ty Tugaloo," "Tu-gloo?—Tha'z no kin' of place. C'mawn to Qui 111 num. Come to my house. What 'n 'ell's thlz?" he broke off suddenly. "My sword," said Lamliert, simply. "Sword?—-sword?" exclaimed Pottn. "You goin' Tu-gloo with sword? You —Ynnkee oflTcer like that—wha'z came! —Close ?" "A Yankee officer certainly," laughed I.ambert. "I've never met ("apt. Close." The effect of this announcement on Mr. Potts was surprising. It well-nigh sobered him. He slowly drew l>ack un til he sat erect, his hend wobbling a bit in spite of his efforts at self-control. Presently he began to speak, slowly and impressively at first, then winding up in r verbal entanglement: "Mlssur Ijiiu-p-bert. I didn't know 1 was talkin' to—Yankee officer—but— I'm a gen'l'm'n. suh, an' I Ftan' by wh-wha —I say. I mean to stan" your frien', suh: but as fo' that oth —fclluh —Close—l'll see'm in 'ell flrat." 11. It wns sun-up cud Knapping cold when the brakeman shouted "Tugaloo," and gratefully Lambert stepped from the train and felt free air. Mr. Potts was sleeping soundly, doubled up In one of the seats. The only wakeful bipeds in sight were the conductor and his train man. Cnseen hands forward had shoved the trunk out upon the frosty boards. The sun wns just peeping ovefr a low wooded ridge before them. Tho (rack wound away among some desolate fields where tiny flakes of cotton still clung to the browr and withered stalks. Tn n cloud of steam the train pulled away, leaving Lambert and his trunk to look nfter each other wi best they might, and as the cloud lifted the young officer looked ei»riouslv around him. He was standing on u rude wooden platform whose shrunk'-n planks left black, gaping seams between their up per faces, no . at least, beautiful iu their thick coat of sparkling white. Ex cept where the footmarks of the train men marred the smooth expanse, and where in two or three plucea the planks were gone entirely, this gleaming sheet stretched the length of the platform to where the white bulk of his trunk stood on end r.t the eastern edge. The charred and blackened relic of a flight of stairs led from the platform to the sloping some five feet below, but not i nd-r"'l *■ urned the unwnrv igainst a breakneck plunge into space. Part of the platform itself had been burned nway, nud some charred and blackened j>ost«, sticking bolt upright from the ground in the shape of a nar row rectangle, showed that a wooden building of some kind bnd formerly stood along the rear of the rickety staging. Midway along its length, on the southern side, a shed with a sloping roof had been loosely thrown together, and the ends nearest him, boarded in and pierced for a door and a couple of windows, bore over the threshold in black stencil the legend "Ticket Office." Under the shed were a couple of plows and some boxes. Out 011 the bare blojie, midway between the track and a "snake" fence that paralleled it some twenty yards to the south, a dozen bales of cotton were huddled, three of them partially covered by old war-worn 'paulius and ponchos, the others en tirely exposed to the roln of sparks to be expected from any passing engine when the wind happened to blow from the track; and all of them, evidently, defenseless against the predatory hands of pilferers, for jagged rents were torn in the coarse sacking of ench, and huge flstfuls of the white staple had been dragged from n dozen gaping wounds in every bale. The red soil, showing here and there through the scant and withered herb age, was seamed with mule and wheel trucks, and a few rods away a broken down farm wngon lay with a spoke bristling hub close by its shattered axle, while the tire, rolling away from the general wreck, reemed to have crawled oft to die by itself, and leaned rustiug against one of the charred timbers. The southward view was limited to a long, low ridge of ugly, white-flecked rotton stalks. Eastward the sun was breaking a puthway through the fringe of trees along another ridge, and a faint line of mist, rising sluggishly in the in tervening low ground, with the hollow rumble of the train crossing an invisible bridge, told of the presence of some slow-moving stream. Westward the track came into view around a thinly vrooded hillside, with a clearing here and there, In which some low cabins were scattered. With this cheerful outlook to greet him nt three points of the compass, I.ambert turned him to the north. There was a siding with a switch at each end, but., as three or four rails were missing apposite the west end of the platform, it stood to reason that the railwny com pany found the otberall that was neces sary to the traffic of so bustling a place 11s Tugaloo. A brown freight car stood an the siding with wide-opened doorfc, and some household goods loomed in plain sight. "There Is more honesty in this community than the United Statesmarshnl would give us to believe," thought Lambert, as he recalled the ex tract from a reoent report which was shown him at-department headquarters, fie laid his sntchel and sword U|>on the platform, and, wrapping his blue cir cular about his shoulders, took a few ite]>s forward and a peep into the in ferior of the enr. From the midst, of liedstends, bureaus and cheap old-fush loned furniture, a quantity of bedding had been hauled out upon the floor, and from the midst of the bedding a woolly head protruded—that of a negro fast asleep. Beyond the car stood a dusty open kquare bordered on three sides by dingy wooden structures, some of two stories, but most of them only onoin height. A wooden sidewalk framed the square in some places, and In others only indica tions of Its former presence were to be seen. The sidewalk was bordered by a rude railing, to which, it was evident, 1 orses und mules were tethered during business hours, for at one of the rails, iven now, sprawled upon the soft,hoof- I awed ilust, a long-eartd quadruped was half hanging by the bridle rein, while the dilapidated saddle had worked around during the night until it set tied upon the animal's side. Judging from such slgnc or legends ns were virible over the doorways of Tugaloo, I,aml>ert'B impressions were that the vending of intoxicating drinks was the principal Industry, as there were three saloons to one store devoted to general merchandise which estab lishment, [minted white and with an air of prosperity and a flock of cotton Ixiles around it, bore the sigu of I. Cohen, and told pathetically that, the pioneers of a relentless and one-sided trade had al icndy made their lodgment in the midst of a helpless community. It wns sunrise, and not n soul wua ap parently astir. A street 1-d away north ward at right angleis to the main front of the square, and tdratrgling horse* lined it n» intervals on elti-er side. One of these, with a lielfry, at the corner of the plai 1, seemed to Ik- a meetinghouse of some kind, |>ossihly the pro tem|>«ro nilwtitute for the countv courthouse, thought I.ambert, for tin center of the was still heu|M-d with charred I'.nd blackened beams and bricks where vnco ct'm'thotiac st^od. As for the camp or quart*™ of his ■future comrades and asraciates, Lam bert could see nothing that in the Wut lesembled a military station, and, do r hat he could, the boy found it impos sible to down the faintly heartsick, homesick feeling that speedily took pos ression of him. A dog would have been •welcome as companion, hut there was not even a stray dog 1 . For a moment I.ambert thought of arousing the negro, but after oae glanee at the wide, red envern of his mouth and the emptied lying clone to the frowzy head, h* decided in favor of the mule. A short wnlk brought him to the side oi the prostrate oreature, and a long pull induced his muleship to stagger to his feet, hut. in his struggles he snapped the old headstall, and the remnant of the bit and bridle dropped into the dust. It was not until the vagrant stood erect 4 hat Lambert discovered from the U. F. brand that he was, or had been, gov ernment property. The saddle, too, turned out to be one of the old-fash ioned. black-skirted, pigskin McClel lrfns, so familiar during the war days. As the nr.ile seemed only l.olf awake lAd unaware ae yet of h>» freedom Lnmbert f rst essayed to reset the aaddle.to which be submitted without objection, and then to replace the bridle, to which he would not submit at all, but with low ered frout and menacing hoof turned fcim about and jogged over to where some wisps of hay lay scattered in front of a shanty labeled "Post Office." For ten minutes Lambert exercised his arts in vain effort to recapture that mule, and then, in sheer disgust, threw the bridls on the sidewalk, picked up an abandoned half brick, and let the mule have it in the flank. lie merely twitched his scraggy hide, raised one instant the rearmost hoof, but neter lifted his bead. The brute was hungry from long fasting, and did not mean to be dis turbed, and Lambert, who had eaten nothing since the previous day, was presently in full sympathy. Once more lie looked around in search of some human being, and found himself con fronting a citizen in shirt rleeves and a wangled head of hair, who, leaning out cf a second-story window, wasneverthe- Icss not 20 feet away. For a moment each rag trded the other without a word. Then the native spoke: "What ye tryin' to do?" "I was trying to catch that mule." "Want him fr anything?" "Xo; only I found him tangled in his reins, and he got away after I loosed fcim." The native regarded tbe newcomer curiously. Lambert had slung his blue cape over the hitching rail during his brief pursuit of the ungrateful teast and his neat-fitting suit of tweed was something new to Tugaloo eyes. So was the jaunty drab derby. "You don't b'long roun' yere, do you?" queried Tugaloo next. "I don't; and the Lord knows I don't want to; and I'd be glad to find soma way of getting myself and my trunk yonder, out to camp. Can you suggest any ?" "We-ell, you might walk. Don't reck on your trunk kin, though. Know the way?" "No." "Foller the track down thar a piece, an' you'll come to a path along the branch. It'll take you right in 'mongst the tents. 'Taln't more 'n a few rawds.** "Thank you, my friend. You're the first live man I've found. I suppose I can send in for my trunk?" "Reckon ye can. They've gawtmulea an' wagons enough." Lambert gathered up his belongings and trudged away. He did not mean to yield to the feeling of depression that was struggling to possess him, yet the blue devils were tugging at his heart strings. Wasn't tijis just what his class mates had prophesied would happer If he went into the infantry? Could any service be much more joyless, unevent ful, forlorn, than this promised to be? "Mark Tapley himself would go to pieces in such a place," he htd heard some one ut headquarters say of Tuga loo, but ho meant to out-Tapley Mark If need be, and nobody Bhould know how much he wished he hadn't been assigned to this sort of duty and to this particu lar regiment—certuinly not his class mates, and, above all, not the loving mother at home. Ileavens! how unlike was this bleared, wasted, desolate land to the sweet and smiling New England vale where his boyhood had been spent, to the thickly-settled, thrifty, bustling shores of the Merrimac! lie hod walked nearly a mile and had seen no sign of camp or sentry, but on a sudden the path left the brushwood beside the sluggish "branch," rounded a projecting knoll, and was lost in a rough, red clay, country road. A fence, with a thick hedge of wild-rose-bushes, was to his left—leaves and roses long since withered—and over the tops he caught sight of the roof and upper story of some old southern homestead, at which he had a better peep from the pate-way farther along. A path of red brick led to the flight of steps, brond and bordered by unpretentious balustrades. Dingy white columns supported the roof of a wide piazza. Smoke was drifting from a battered pipe projecting from the red brick chimney at the north end, and the morning air wns faintly scented with a most uppetizing fragrance of broiling ham. It made Lambert ravenous. Somewhero around the next l>end in the road, l>eyond the northward extrem ity of the old fence, he could hear the sound of voice*) nnd a splashing of water. Hustenlng on, he found himself over looking a level "bench" surrounded on three sides by a deep bend of the stream and partially separated from the red roadway by a fringe of stunted trees and 'hick, stubborn bushes; and here, in an Irregular square, Lambert came face to faco with the encampment of tbe flrst company, outside of West I'olnt, it was ever his luck to join. At that particular moment he was just about ready to resolve it should be the last.. On two sides of the square, facing each other and perhaps 20 yards apart, were the "A" tents of the com pany, ten on a side. At the flnnk farth est from the road and pitched so as to face the center of the lnclosure was a wall tent, backed by one or two of the smaller pattern. Nearest the road was n second wall tent, used, possibly, by the guard—though no guards were vis ible—the white canvas cover of an army wagon, and a few more scattered "A" tents. Cook-fires had been ablaze and were now smouldering about the wag on, Several men in gray woolen shirts were washing their faces at the stream; others. In lipht-bluo overcoats, were fcfiuuterlnfr about the tents, some of whose occupants, as could Ixj easily wen, were still asleep. Standing at tho edge of the winding road, and thinking how easy a matter It would be to toss a hand-grenade Into the midst of the camp, Ijimbert paused, ii moment and studied the scene. Rest ing on his sword, still tn its chamois case, with his cloak and satchel, thrown over his shoulder, the young officer became suddenly aware of a man \vo«rtng the chevrons of a corporal who, fsbliiff-rod in hand, wns standing just heyotwl n c(un:p of bushes below and ' Wit hiir >i«t him with an expression on tiis shrewd, "Bowery-boy" face in which impudence oiul interest were übout equally mingled. Bo soon as he No 13 poral cocked his head on one. side, and, with arms akimbo and & quizzical grill on his freckled phiz, patronizingly La quired: "Well, young feller, who made them clothes?" Lambert considered a moment before making reply. One of his favorite in structors at the academy had spoken to the graduating class about the splendid timber to be found among the rank and file of the army. "They are like so many old oaks," said he, and some of Lambert's chums had never forgotten it. Neither had Lambert. "This," said he to himself, "is possibly one of the scrub oaks. I assume he doesn't im agine me to be an officer, and, in any event, he could say so and I couldn't prove the contrary. Ergo, I'll let him into the secret without letting him im agine I'm nettled." "They were made by my tailor, cor poral," said he. "lie also made the unW form which I, perhaps, should have put on before coming out to camp." ("Thai ought to fetch him," thought he.) "Where will I And Ca.pt. dose?" "He's over there," said the corporal, with a careless jerk of the head in tha ow»»o c 4 m man mtrlat tt« cktmaa of • oorporaL who. fishing rod In hand, was stasdtsa JM herend a dump of hoahas Mm. direction of the opposite wall tent. "Then I s'pose you're the new lieuten ant the fellers have been tallring about?" "lain; and would you mind telling ma how long you've been in serrioeT" "Me? Oh, I reckon about two month* —longer 'n you have, anyhow. You ain't joined yet, have you?" And the corporal was nibbling at a twig now and looking up in good-humored Inter est. Then, as Lambert found no words for immediate reply, he went em "Cap's awake, if you want to see him." And, amazed at this reception, yet not knowing whether to be Indignant or amused, Lambert sprang down the pathway, crossed the open space be tween the tents, a dozen of the men starting up to stare at but nose torn* lute him, and halted before the tent of hi* company commander. Bitting just within the half-opened flap, a thick-set, burly man of middle age was holding in his left hand a coarse needle, while with his right he wad making unsuccessful jabs with soma black thread at the eye thereof. So in tent was he upon this task that he never heard Lambert's footfall nor noted his coming, and the lieutenant, while ing a momest irresolute, took quick ot> serration of the stranger and his sur roundings. He was clad in the gray shirt and light-blue trousers such as were worn by the rank and file. An or dinary soldier's blouse was thrown over the back of the camp-stool on which he ■at, and his feet were encased In the coarse woolen socks and heavy brqgans and leathern thongs, just exactly suoh as the soldier cook was wearing at the hissing fire a few paces away. His sua penders were hung about his waist, and in his lap seat uppermost end showing a rent three inches in length, were A pair of uniform trousers, with a narrow welt of dark blue along the outer seam. They were thin and shiny like bomba*- cine, in places, and the patch which aeemed destined to cover the rent waa five shades too dark for the purpose. His hands were brown and knotted and hard. He wore a silver ring on the third finger of the left. His face we# brown as his hands, and clean shaved (barring the stubble of two days' growth) everywhere, except the heavy "goatee," which, beginning at the cor ners of his broaid, firm mouth, covered thickly hiß throat and chin. Hla eyea were large, clear, dark brown in hue, and heavily shaded. His hair, close cropped and sprinkled with grey, waa almost black. The morning air was keen, yet no fire blazed in the little camp stove be hind him, and the fittings of the tent, so far as the visitor could see, were of the plainest description. Not caring to stand there longer, Lambert cleared hla throat and began: * "I am looking for Capt. Cloae." Whereupon the man engaged In threading the needle slowly opened the left eye he had screwed tight shut, and, as slowly raised his head, calmly looked his visitor over and at last slowly re plied: "That's my name." |io as ooirruium] Mf-toWIBdSt. It's curious how many man Will point the way to richaa And tell us how to prosper, when They've patches on their brsechsa. -Liff. Bulletin. Only When He appealed. "They said all aorta of imkinrt thing# about yon." "Such s» what?" "Well, they sold that you married ft** money." "But you didn't believe it, did rouT" "Not until I saw your husband. Altar that then came an estrange ment between the two dear friends.— Chicago Post. f Made Him Her CoiMuk A little girl aged nine celled her fa ther to (her bedside the other evening. "Papa," said the little diplomat, "I want to aak your advice." "Well, my dear, what la it about?" "What do you think it will be beat to! give me for a birthday present 7**— N. X- Trlbune. Handy Aboat tha lie—a. Lucie—How could you brUg your self to marry such a warifcaa piece of furniture as a IYes»ch count? Marie—Well, you see, when poor papa comes home from Wall atieet tired andj irritable, he iikea to hare something easy to ait on.—N. T. Journal. The Smith Ikeletea. "Did you hear that there waa a skele ton in Smith's family?" asked Jones. "Yon don't aay?" exclaimed his wife. "Whore?" "Inside of Smith," replied Josiea. and thou ho chuckled