VOL- xxxiv
Boots
j
"To"suiFAir;
Co n_* to us a:ii you'll find our stock so large that you can find
what you want —All varieties of shoes for sa'e at louest prices Our j
entire fall and winter stock is open and ready for your inspection— ,
Our stock was never larger than the present—Complete stock of
Ladies' and Misses' fine Dongola, Box Calf, winter tans, Enamels in ;
welt sole, nude for winter wear. -
In Men's shoes our stock ofters many selections of winter tans, fne
enamels, cordovans, box calfs and many other. Have you seen our
genuine water-proof shoe? It is a dandy—the upper extends around
the welt to the edge of the sole—this in connection with sheet rub
ber and cork bottom filling makes a complete join' that cannot be
secured in any other way —A shoe thus made is more nearly water
tight than can be made by any other process. Our stock of Men s
and Boy's heavy boots and shoes is large, and prices away down
Eull stock of Boy's high cut copper toed shoes.
Large and complete stock of rubber goods of all kind Pelt boots.
Felt shots and warm lined shoes and slippers of all kinds au rock
bottom prices.
Full stock of sole leather and shoe findings—Sole leather cut to
any amount you wish to puichase. High iron stands for tepairing.
Do you wear box calf shoes? We have a polish put tip for box
calf shoes which keeps the leather soft and pliable. When in need
of boots and shoes
CALL AND SEE US.
JOHN BICKEL.
128 S. MAIN St. BUTLER, PA.
T. H- BURTON. * T. H. BURTON.
• iSTYLE.#
Style is Everything Now-a-days
And we arc glad that it appertains to every article in our stock, for correctness
and el egancc are sure concomitants to artistic development.
It Costs You no More to be In Harmony With Tbe Best Expressed Styles of
Tbe Season, Than to Constitute "A BACK NUMBER,"
By taking anything and everything irresponsible dealers may offer you. This es
tablishment intends always to keep up with the times and you pre sure of that basis
yourse.'f if you will trust us to serve you.
T. H. BURTON,
120 SOUTH MAIN ST., BUTLER, PA.
J. S. YOUNG,
Tailor, Hatter and Gents Furnishing Goods.
Summer heat make-', the prob'em of looking dressy atid keeping cool a hard one
But wt've solved it; and for once economy, comfort and fashion go hand in baud
Our summer suits are finer in fabric, nobbier in ]>attern and more stylish ir cu
hao ever before, they fit your curves and yet they're not sweat bath outfits. The
prices may surprise you.
J. S. YOUNG, Tailor.
101 S. MAIN St., - - - BUTLER, PA
J ! PleaSm9 ProS P® Ct tt?
FIND THE COAT so satisfactory at
/"A j ® rst trial. This is the universal testi
f f\ I ) ?i| / V mony of our patrons, who are all lovers of
' i \/v/f » 1 i neat fitting clothes. Without them no man
u \ / rt looks well dressed.
V, J /L. r> A COAT WELL MADE is made to fit and
" * ; II J" not to set-iust-hit-or-miss; an artist well may
' , j \l lake delight in seeing a neet fitting coat.
I I / j jf\ '<• ? Good material, good workmanship and good
I\\ l fits are the proof that have made our tailor
' 7\\ Ir' .-rl ing a success. We guarantee this and ask
j i iV-rA ■ULJ you to look at our patterns. Our prices are
' 1 A cut own to l ' ,e l° w est notch.
i\'- i \\ \4% \ P C l/roi/ MEKCHAHT TAILOR.
;|r,t A j 4J j} \ I G. F. KECK, ICN , Maln , Bt .^, >a .
C. F. T. PAPE & BRO,
JEWELERY.
WE SAVE YOU 25 PER CENT ON:—
DIAMONDS,
WATCHES,
CLOCKS,
SILVERWARE,
SILVER NOVELTIES, ETC
Our stock is complete in every detail Our stock of Diamonds
is the largest in Butler County, and as we buy direct from the tin
porters you can save the Jobbers pro.it by buying from us. We buy
all our diamonds loose and mount them to suit you, therefore you
get just what you pay for. All our diamonds are guaranteed to be
just as we say they arc or money refunded. We give our special at
tention to rep; ii ing of fine watches and jewelry. VVe take old gold
and silver the same as money, paying the highest market prices.
122 South Main St., Butler Pa.
; pooooooooooot>oo<}|jooooo*joo<x
"THE COMMERCIAL,"
|W. K. THORNBURG Prop'r., Evans City, Pa.V
■i > This popular house/has just been entirely remodeled i >
< > and refurnished. Everything convenient, and guests t >
I I will always receive close attention. (
y located near l'ostoffice and I'.& W. Depot. When i <
I y in Evans City t*»p at the Commercial. Bell Tele- {
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Suae Library ,
No Cripe
When you take Hood'.* Pills. The big, old fuh
loned, sujjar-ooateit pills, which tear you all to
pieces, are not in it with Hood's, tasy to toVe
Hood's
! and easy to oprate. Is true
I of Houd's I'iiN, I | 0%
! up to <!•>♦(> In every res|»-cf. | B I
j Safe, eertala sore. AB ■■ ■
) dniggi*t Q T TTnod (z Co.. J.o\ve T l,
j Ttoe Duii i'ills to taka -itii Hood's Sarsaparilla
This Is Your Opportunity.
On receipt of ten ceiits. cash or stamps,
i a Kenerous sample will be mailed of the
. most popular Catarrh and Hay Fever Cure
I (Ely's Cream ISalui; sufficient to demon
' slrate tlio merits of tli© remedy.
ELY BROTHERS,
56 Warren St , New York City.
Bev. John Reid, Jr., of Great Falls, Mont.,
recommended Ely's Cream Balm to me. I
' «*an emphasize bis statement, 4 *lt is a
IQT© cure for catarrh if u»ed as directed.
Rev. Francis W. Poole. Pastor Central Pres.
Church, Helena, Mont.
Ely's Cream Balm is the acknowledged
enre for catarrh and contains no mercury
nor any injurious drug. Price, 50 cents.
RAILROAD TIME TABLES
I'., Bessemer & L, K.
Trains leave Butler, (Butler time) at
A. M. and 5 P. M . trains arrive at
0:55 A. M. and 2:55 P. M.
pITTSBUKG & WESTERN
■- Railway. Schedule of I'as
sengei Trains in efiect May 16,
1897. BUTLER TIME.
J lW'|uirt. Arrive.
\ . . 815 *j f W "
Kcw4'Mf»tl4* AcroouiMMUtiuii 1 -» F-* 1"
Aknm Mail *l} A. w 7«« P.M
All«{{h*'iiy A' l "Uioiodftiiuii lo (IT* 12 1H
Kxyv** ' r M 1
Al!*-jfheuy "Flyer". ,r » "
•i hk • . - :> " 811
AJJ* o :.'*uy Mail .. 5 44 1,1 "
Allegheny ,4 >l>>r"
ii ioi 640 - 708 "
CiikaKi) 540 " 917 A.*
K ■ - in, 1 Bi-iwlfonl Mail *» :« a.m VJ r M
< l:tri'»n Aroi'inrmniati<»i» .'<!"► I*.m '♦ »A If
Fuxbiir? 7 10 i H <»5 44
SI M>A¥ IKAI.N>.
Allefch«*ny HI' AM, 'J 44
\i. ...... Kt ma 540 FJ * P.M
N«w C«uitl*' A• <4»iiiiinKlation ! M I" ajii 7 44
iriikngu Kxprww... » 4«» p.*: 4 M 44
Ac<tunnodalion J 7 M
TrHiiin north at U -'rl a. in arul 15:1"» [». laakr
rA-a'i' ronpectioii at Ktuhurg fir |N>i:itM «»n Alh irht-ny
A arfl. y Kv
F«#r tlir<>iik'i ti'*k«*ti» tii all |Miint«« in the went, n«»rth
vcai or Miiitliwrxt apply tu
A. B. CROn il, Afceut,
R B. REYNOLDS, Snp't, Butter, Pa.
Foxburg, Pa. C. W. BASSETT,
A. P. A.. Allegbvny, Pa.
Pt'MJfSYLYAMIA "i,.
Wi'STEN PENNSYLVANIA DIVISION.
gimM I-E IS E met MAT 17, J»!»7.
fIOI'TIT. WEEK DAYS
A. M. A.M. A. M. P. M P. M.
BCTI.EK. « •£' !» "> a r 5 ! k '
Saxouburu Arrive* *» •"»* H !i r i 11 A* -1
Butlrr J aiiirtiou.. 44
BntlerJumti.il). 7 «4mU 1. .% .1 •'
Vati'iua \rrivi- 7 W- Hr ' n ~
Taiontiini I 1 +* 12 30 :» 4-' «; <»7
Sprmii'lul". ' 7 M 1* 11 12 41 \
(larvnMiiit » I °° j f, j r>
M Cl> i) 'A 1 1 09 4 12 »• i 2
l-All«*jrh«my H 271 4-V 1 '£< I A •; i.i
A. 31 A M. P. M P. M.jP. M.
STXDAY TICMNS —l#Mve Bntl«*r f«*r
<'ity an«l |iriui i|«ii iulcimediate »uitionn at 7;. 10 a. in.,
al»«i r»:00 |I. 111.
NORTH. WEEK DAYS .
IA. M.J A M A. M. P. M T M
Allegheny City leavej 7 «*' ?• 11 25- * 6o| blO
.Sl,Jj»l,ur K ... ' ■ 11 9 12 11 (7 :» <ift| ...
SliriliL'lLLlC • • II '• :, T
T!.rr««.,ii,7 »»i #»««*' : j si *; V;
Natrona 7 ".!» !» 4 i 12 li, i sl| ♦» r »l
Bntlei JUIM lion. jirriv*- 7 4i.j '» ."•• 1• - -*3 ! Of)
Butler Junction.. _ .bMM- •
Snxoiiliiirg l'» 1- 4'J, 4 .>♦»' 7 24
III'TLER orriM-! H ::h 1 17| 5 o, , .*)
A. M.IA. 51. P. M P. M il*. M.
SI'NDAY TU. iINS. Leave Allegheny City f'«r But
ler ami |»rin< i|*t! lnleniw«lii»te -tationw ut 7:i» a. HI. ami
9:.'K» p. in.
Wi'.kk DAYM. TOR TIIK KAST. Wr.wt DAYS.
P. M A. M j »' M. P. M
2;: I/I: «; 26 lv BTTLKK.. ftr ■••• ,« "7
f:t 25' 7 27,ar llavler Junction lv
7 4ii lv Butler Junction ar H 3* 12 'w
.1 :j6' 7 i'J ar Froeptirt l y H2812 Ob
:t 39 7 44 AlhuheiiV Jumtioii 44 H J4 12 01
:i 61 ; H «rt ••
4 (f.t m2l 44 I'aultou (Apullu) 44 1 WJJ
4 :iV Hsl *•
5 «h;< y *22 44 Blairsvllle 4 * 70010 40
nls y :w» 44 Blairnville lnt««mi tlon.. . u 6 2»».l0 16
H 60.11 *i>*» 44 Altoonu ** •• 80b
1 < a 11 li 1" 14 llarrinlinrg 44 j .... •'! 1°
4 .'ail 6- ' " JPhila)lel|ilila u ... 11 '<£o
P. M- IA. 31. P.M
t)n Suiwlay, train liaviiiff Bntb r 7a. m., connect*
for llarn'nburjs, Altimna ami Pliilailcljiliia.
i> traina for the eaat leave Pituburn (Union
Station), H • futlown:—
Atlantic Ex "pre**, «laily 'i.fi u*
Peunaylvan *a Limited 44 7:lo
Day Exjrreiw. " 7: *>
Main Li)ie K> "prewt, ;,, o
Philaleliihia 1 txpircH, '
Eantern Exnrr V*, 44 7:05
M Line, 44 « 44
Pliilad a Mail, 8 ttwlay* r,n\y »:4o A.n
For •letaile<l li
Aict. Wmteni Di *trict. Comer FMIh Avenue aa«l Sniith
fi-l'l Strict, Pitt* bury. P*;
J B ill'Tt Hl.-40N, -1 H. WOOD,
Oeneral Matwr Gen'l Agent.
JjStpr
The Place to
GAS COOK
ING ANI) HEATING STOVES,
GAS BURNERS AND FIX
TURES, HOSE, BATH TUHS,
ENAMEL AND
IMPROVED WELSHBACH GAS
ww BURNER,
W. H. O'BRIEN iW
107 Er3t Jefferson St.
Bht KEEPtTs^SUPPLIES
SUCH AS
Illv» 4 s, Sirx/ .r. . : »i• «<xl Frames, S«Ttlon.->,
Box« 4 *, HHNMI and Surplus rouridu
ilOfltt. , , ~,
Tim IK*HL K # *Hl.> at the lowest |>os.nilH«>
prices.
James B. Murphy,
Morcor St., West End. Rutl l*'t.
N«-iir rvry • or •;
Practical Horse Shoer
WILL ROBINSON.
Formerly Horse Shoer at the
Wick House has opened busi
-1 ness in a shop in the rear of
1 the Arlington Hotel, where
1 he will ilo Horse-Shoeing in
> the most approve.! style.
HTRACK AND ROAD HORSES
!l A SPECIALTY.
BUTLER PA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 11, lSi>7
WHAT THE CHILDREN SAY.
When. !n the dusk of evening. X come to
where I see
Three little taxes at the window looking
down at me.
And hear th«> shout of "Papa." and the
sound of scampering feet.
And find myself a prisoner ere I can beat
retreat;
The robbers seize my parcels and search
ir.y pockets through.
And bear me to their castlo spite of all
that I can do.
There the queen of these banditti gently
ch!<Jes their belst'rous glee.
And asks how many kisses It will take to
rausum ui»
Oh. Is ther'-s any pleasure In all the busy day
That's quite ss sw-et as listening then ta
what the children say?
Helen thinks a hundred kisses are enougn
to ransom me.
If 111 change them all for pennies bright as
soon s.s I am free;
While Henry claims that "Papa Is mors
valuable than that;"
And so the rascal confiscates my overcoat
and hat.
But tender-hearted Josephine makes terms
for my release:
"We'll let you go. dear papa, for Just one
kiss apiece."
When I've paid my ransom duly, this val
iant robber band
Escorts me to the table, with a guard on
either hand.
There for a blessed hour I fling my cares
away
And grow younger as I listen to what the
children say.
From my prison in the study I detect them
stealing by,
'Till they think they're out of hearing; then
with shouts away they fly.
All about the house they frolic—now below,
now overhead.
Little chance I'll have for study 'till they're
snugly tucked In bed.
But at last there comes a silence, and I tip
toe out to see
Three little sober faces clustered at their
mother's knee.
Their prayer. "Please bless dear papa,"
never falls to put to rout
Every skeptical opinion or philosophical
doubt.
When the world looks cold and cheerless.
and heaven seems far away.
Just stop, my friend, and listen to what the
children say.
—Thomas C. Roney, in Chicago Standard.
0 MILLER'S GEESE. I;
' MART SOMMEKVTLLK and ||
MAKTIA >. BAHIS.
~UU»U"MW.W>F
FAIlt and sweet were the flowers in
the morning sunshine, but no fairer
nor sweeter than w as Elizabeth herself,
as she came down the walk in front of
her grandfather's cottage. In. her pret
ty print frock and with the roses in her
cheeks, which in some sly manner had
sprung up there long before any of
their rivals had thought of blooming In
the garden.
Down in the heart of Pennsylvania,
In the first quarter of the presen-t cen
tury lived Elizabeth with her grand
father and her grandmother, in the
small house near the w*oods on the bank
,of a brawling creek, not far from the
village of Bellefonte, lying under the
shadow of Bald Eagle mountain. The
name of Bellefonte had been given to
the town by Elizabeth's grandmother,
in honor of the magnificent spring—
bright, cool, fresh, sparkling and never
falling —that bubbled up on the edge of
the village.
On the opposite shore of the creek
•tood the old mill, with its whizzing,
hurrying wheels, grinding away day
by day In order to supply the good peo
ple of the town with their dailv bread,
and hard by was the humble home of
the miller, David Crew, where he and
his wife lived by themselves, with only
a flock of geese for company. It was a
wild, lonely spot, but Elizabeth's
Quaker cousins were over In the Town,
within walking distance, and Elizabeth
seldom sighed for other companions.
Indeed, her grandmother thought that
ahe was almost too fond of wandering
round In the sole society of her own
feelings and fancies, and that of the
dumb creatures about her, for a younpt
maid who was of a mind to become a
thrifty, able housewife, and she did her
best to lure the girl's thoughts and foot
steps into more practical, domestic
paths.
But, in spite of her love of out of door
life and her affection for nearly all
living things, Elisabeth felt no great
respect for the lively geese of the miller.
"They are but noisy birds," she would
aay; "always stalking round and mak
ing a fusa about nothing. There Is old
Tappy now, trying to look as wise as an
owl, and yet I venture to believe that
ahe has not a single Idea in her head."
"Like some silly lasses that I have
seen," the grandfather would teaslngly
reply, "with their empty little pates In
the clouds, and they themselves hardly
aware where they are or what they are
,dolng."
Then would Elizabeth blush and hang
her giddy little head, for well she knew
that she was sometimes more given to
dreaming than to doing; but her grand
father would then laugh within him
self, and relentingly pat the glowing
cheek of his granddaughter, for It must
be acknowledged that he was of private
opinion that she was the clevere«t girl
In the county, even though he did liken
her to the geese and twit her with being
a sad romp, whose skirts grew a deal
faster than her dignity.
On this special morning graudfather
was at the garden gate, preparing to
mount old Ben, the faithful horse that
carried him on many a jaunt round the
country. Grandfather and Ben were
now bound on an expedition to look
after the men who were at work on the
new canal, of which grandfather was
the surveyor. It was a two days' jour
ney to this point of observation and
back again, so grandmother and Elisa
beth, and Woolly, the small black maid,
would be left to themselves for the
night. But they had no thought of
danger. They had never been molested
In their nook In the shelter of the for
est, and women and young folk *e«
brave and daring In those ploneet
times.
"Now, grandfather," said Elizabeth,
kissing her grandfather good-by, "be
aure to bring me a bonny bunch of crab
apple blossoms, as well as tbe hank of
yarn of which I spoke to you, aud If
you stop at John's house tell his wife
thai I should be pleased to have tbe
puttern of the pelisse that Sarah Blake
lent her. And, oh, grandfather, your
next trip will be to Philadelphia, and
you are to take me with you, are you
not? And then I shall see something
of the world of which I have heard so
much and know so little. And the
money to convey me on my journey is
even now in the house with the rest
that you brought home lately. Is it not,
dear grandfather?"
"Yes, chatterbox," returned the
graudfather, jocosely, pinching the
dimpled chin so near at hand; "but see
to it that your brains go not wool-gath
ering, and let it slip through your fin
gers ere you can put It to use."
With a little laugh, as Elizabeth drew
herself up In dignified protest against
bis Insinuation, the grandfather waved
farewell to his wife in the doorway, and
jumping upon his saddle the active old
man rode away, muttering to himself:
"A hank of blossoms, a yarn pelisse and
a pattern of crob-apples." Perhaps the
good grandfather was slightly übsent
raiuded himself on some ocqp&iona.
Elizabeth stood gazing after the
horse and its rider until they vanished
round the curve in the road by the great
oak tree. Then she turned and glanced
across the stream toward the mill. The
milier was leaning out of the upper haif
of the mill door, his arms resting on.
the lower half.
"The top of the morning to you. Misa
Elizabeth," he called out. "Doyouknow
I've found the nest of the old goose
I've Ix'en hunting so long? It was In
the crotch of a willow at the lower end
of the dam. Step over and take a look
at it."
Elizabeth wan about to trip lightly
across the bridge that led to the mill,
when she was hailed by a voice from the
kitchen, reminding her that life is not
•11 play, even on a merry May morn
ing.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" csled the
grandmother, "there is a large ironing
to do, and we are late at setting about
it. Come, little idler, to your task."
"But it's such a lovely day!" sighed
the girl, slowly entering the room, and
casting many a longing glance back
ward, silently wishing that she were
a bird or a leaf that could let the rain
do its washing and leave the smoothing
process to the wind and the sunshine.
"But if I am diligent this morning,
grandmother, I suppose that I may go
into town this afternoon to see Mary
Anne." •
"Yes, yes, child; but now we must
make haste, or else noon will be here
before we have finished all that we have
on hand," responded the grandmother,
laying generous batches of dough Into
the bread baskets to rise and make
ready for baking.
When the clock struck 12 the last
piece cf snowy linen was hung up to air
on the line stretched across the kitchen,
and whe& the traces of the midday
meal were cleared away Elizabeth tied
on her sunonnet and started for the
village. Of course she had to pause for
a moment at the spring, for she could
never pass It by unheeded; but a little
later she was with her cousins In an old
garden, sleepy with sunshine and
tragrant with blossoms.
What with gossiping over Elizabeth's
coming flight from the home nest and
the relating of stories bv Mary Anne
from a delightfully fascinating book
that she hnd come across —but which
her mother had withdrawn from her
ere she had fathomed half of Its fasci
nations—the afternoon skipped by all
too quickly.
Elizabeth suddenly realized the late
ness of the hour, and hastened away,
but it was growing dark as she pressed
into the shade of the pine woods beyond
the spring, and she was considerably
startled when she observed in the path
ahead of her the figure of an unknown
man, who, when he heard the approach
ing footsteps, dodged behind the trunk
of a tree, as though fearful of discov
ery.
"Dear me," thought Elizabeth, "who
is that? It must be a beggar or a
tramp, unless It is a king or a lord in
disguise. Anyway, it's best to avoid
him. There, he has turned off to the
right, so I'll hurry along as fast as I
can."
In another moment she BOW her
grandmother coming to meet her. Eliz
abeth threw her arms round the old
lady's neck In an ecstasy of joy and
relief, and confided the story of her
vision aud her fright. Grandmother
looked a little worried.
"I almost wish that you had brought
William home with you 10 spend the
night," she said, as she latcned the gar
den gate behind herself and Elizabeth.
"Woolly says that there is a fox prowl
ing round, also. You must shut up the
chickens with more than usual caution.
David went aw ay for the afternoon, too,
and will not be back until late this even
ing. Do you run over, Elizabeth, and
see that the geese are in the pen near
the house, lest they be in peril, and
drop a word to his wife, poor lame Su
san, to charge David to keep his ears
open for anyone who may be abroad to
night. However, I think that we have
really little to fear. Tbe stranger was
pdSbably a traveler, going through the
oountry on foot."
Elizabeth flew away to her grand
mother's bidding; but, while securing
the fowls froan surprise, she fell to
wondering about the man that she had
encountered, and to weaving romances
in her customary fashion, atid not once
did she recall to memory the orders
ibout the miller's geese. The moon was
climbing the skies when she went up
stairs to go to bed, and when she walked
to the window for a parting glimpse of
the world without she fancied that she
beheld a man slink across the road and
hide himself In the woods beyond.
"It's just nervousness that makes me
Imagine that. T find strange things
everywhere now," she assured herself,
to stifle a little «r Hsrn alarm, and.
with a light laugh at her own notions,
ahe sprang into bed, and bad soon lost
herself and her troubles in dreamlard.
But after nn hour or two of sleep she
was called back to real life. She awoke
suddenly to descry somebody standing
by her window.
"Who's there?" she demanded, in
quavering tones.
"It is 1," replied her grandmother, in
a whisper. "I heard the sound of
whistling, and I stole in here to peer
out on this side of the house, and here
is a man walking up and down the road.
He is trying, perhaps, to find out if
there is a man about, or else wishes fo
signal to some accomplice. There, do
you hear him?"
Elizabeth was at the window In a
trioe, and she could plainly discern a
tali figure creeping stealthily in
through the gate.
"Oh, why was 1 so foolish as to stay
here without a man!" said grand
mother, catching her breath. "We can
not protect ourselves, and there is one
shutter in the parlor that is not closed,
because the white rose bush has grown
In so far that it holds it open. There,
he is at the other window now, and will
Boon inake an attempt at the one behind
the rose bush."
Grandmother had in her hand a small
calico bag, which she tucked beneath
the mattress of the bed, and then she
began to push some of the Heavy, old
fashioned mahogany furniture against
the door of the room.
"Woolly Is safe enough in her corner
in the attic," said grandmother, "but
we must have something that the rascal
Is after. I will fling tip the window,
and we must scream for help. David
must have returned by this time, and
mayhap he will hear 11s and come to our
rescue. You spoke to Susan of this
matter, did you not, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth flushed scarlet, nnd let her
head fall upon her breast, like a rose
bending on Its stalk.
"I did truly forget, to do so, grand
mother," she faltered.
"Then your heedlessness may have
cost you your trip," replied the grand
mother, more severely than was her
wont, "and it may be we shall lose
our lives. The villain may Intend to
murder us, for all that we can tell,"
finished the poor lady, in desperation.
"But now for ns loud a shout as we can
raise."
"Help! help!" The words rang out
upon the night air, but the creek went
babbling on its noisy course, with no
consideration for the frightened, de
fenseless beings who were endeavoring
to drown its clatter with their own.
The robber shrank back from the house
at sound of the outcry, but as no re
sponse came to the appeal he returned
the more boldly to the attack. Again
arose the cries, louder and more be
seeching than before. The intruder
had found the unfastened shutter, and
had made his way through the wiiulow
into the parlor. Oh, tvculd 110 aid
come!
All at once, from ucross the water,
came en answer. It was the shrill
scre-iim of the miller's geese. Elizabeth
thought that she could recognize Tap
py's peculiar note übove other
shrieks. Something was awake. Some
thing had heard the suppli.-stions ( f
the besieged, e\<-n were it only .1 llocl.
of stupid geese. Again grandmother
and Elizabeth shouted, and again came
the squawk, squawk, in reply. The in
vader had evidently not failed to note
the clamor in the distance, for his foot
falls could no longer be heard ou the
floor below. Oh, would David be
aroused ?
Yes. there was a halloo from the op
posite shore, and once more the voices
at the window pleaded for succor. Then
there was the report of a shot. The
man in the parlor of the disturbed
household had his cars on thealert. lie
waited for no parley or plunder. He
scuttled across the room, jumped from
the open window, and tore off for the
woods. An instant later David came
flying up to the with his gun
over his shoulder, and there were ex
planations, thanks and congratulations
then. David had found Tappy alone by
his doorstep when he reached home
that night, and he had hunte.d up the
other geese and locked them into the
pen under his bedroom window. Soon
nfterward he had fallen into a heavy
slumber, from which he had been awak
ened by the cackling of his geese.
Thinking that a fox was among them,
he had gone out fo attend to hiin with n
little powder and shot; and ther.,catch
ing the sounds of distress from the
other sides of the creek, he had the sat
isfaction of chasing away a u.orc wily
and more wicked old fox from more val
uable prey.
The miller stayed on guard between
the two houses for the remainder of the
night, but there was no further annoy
ance, and the follow ing evening grand
father was again with his family, lis
tening to H thrilling account of the mid
night adventure.
"The scamp must have had suine sus
picion of the extra money in tbehouse,"
said grandfather, shrewdly shaking his
head. "But, heydey, lass, so the geese
were ahead of you for once!"
Elizabeth gave her grnndfathcr a shy
arch little glance from under her eye
lashes.
"The geese had more wit than 1
thought," she said, "and I will never de
spise them again."— Leslie's Monthly.
C»T<- Hlmaelf Aivuj,
Judge—You might as well own up
that you stole that double-barreled shot
gun from the colonel here.
Sam Johnsing—l was jess sodesjwrit,
boss, dnt I tuck de jun beka.se I wanted
to shoot myse'f.
"But instead of committing suicide
you went and sold the gun for two dol
lars."
"Dat's so, boss, but I had ter sell de
gun ter buy catridges wid de money.
Can't shoot mvse'f widout catridges."
—N. Y. World"
Thn»K r«»lni; Mtoruia.
Krtenfl —IS your iioneyrmjon i
Xuwed —Oh. yes. We're alonjy In the
• 'moon no" 1 .- V V .Tnuri. '
Child and Man.
Ye babe that cryeth for ye moon
So shortly after btrth,
Is father to ye grown-up man
That yelleth for ye earth.
—Philadelphia Record.
After thit Weddlngr.
"Why so thoughtful?" asked the
bride.
"Well," replied the groom, "I've just
been thinking how 1 worried for two
years for fear I wouldn't get you."
"And now?"
"Why, now, when 1 think it all over
I can't help kicking myself for being
such a fool as to worry."—Chicago Post.
Had Met Htm.
Miss Glib (to the colonel, who, she
imagines, has been a great traveler) —
Have you ever met the African lion?
Col. Bourbon—l don't like, miss, to
cahst any insinuations upon the Afri
can's veracity, but I liev known a nig
gah to lie when caught with chickens
In his possession.—Judge.
Nat a Patalns Fancy.
"I got engaged to a girl at the sea
shore."
"Did, eh?"
"Yes. I thought it was only a sum
mer affair, but when 1 got home ]
found out that she lives next door."—
Chicago Record.
lieyoad Ills Kfnrli.
Cbolly —He offered me u chance toge
on the stage, don't you know, but hf
would give uie only a thinking part
Of course I w&fuwd to accept it.
Mertie —To be sure. One should not
attempt a task beyond his capacity.—
Brooklyn Life.
En««(h In Tlila Country.
"I see a theater has been started ir
Circle City, Alaska," remarked Des
demona Walker, the tragedy queen.
"I have found it unnecessary," re>
turned Hamlet McFadden, coldly, "tc
go so far north for a frost."—Chicagc
Post.
The Cheerful Idiot.
"It is a touching sight when a little
child learns to stand alone," said thf
sentimental boarder.
"And it Is also a touching sight when
a man stands a loan, too," said the
Cheerful Idiot. —Indianapolis Journal.
One Man'* Opinion.
"Is it any more dangerous to ride a
tandem than a regular bicycle?"
"I should say It was. I have knowt
of two cases In which tandem riding ha:
plunged a clerk on a small salary int<
matrimony."—Chicago Tribune.
(Jeneroua Tommy.
"Doesn't your brother Tommy evei
give you any thing, Johnnie?"
"I should say he did. He's the ont
whnt give me the mumps and th<
measles."—Detroit Kite Press.
A Cynical View.
"Uncle Dick, whnt'a a banquet?"
"Well, It's when a lot of men arf
pleased with another man, and they nl!
go and get something good to eat."—De
troit Free Press.
■.•teat Tl.lnn Out.
Knox—Jagfby la H very stylish fel
low, isn't he ?
Jock" Yes; his wife often thinks h<
Is the latest thing out.—Town Topics.
Ilia Activity.
"This obituaiy says that McTurl
was very active in masonic circles."
"Yes; he used to touch every brotbei
he met."—Chicago Journal.
A Ckaagf In the Subject.
Trivvet —Jaysmlth doesn't tell ai
many fish lies as he did.
Dicer—No, he doesn't. He's a blcy
ele liar now.—N. Y. World.
li*d Hone It Twice.
"Wh> don't you say grace, Doll}
"Cos it's only hash, an' I've sail
gjtjut twice on it alreadv/'-r Pick-Mn
I THE CAP'N'S COX'N. |
I BY W. F. SHANNON.
is
T r<« C <•<« ' -«
"MacgTigor Anstruthor Cahoun, A. 8.,
Was as cool a card of the queen's navee
As ever roused the hard. Portsea,
Or Painted Point.
But his soul was among the damned, w«
hear,
"Cos he took up rum and turned dowm
beer.
And frequent threw his inner gear
All out of joint.
"But Cox'n Macgrlgor Cahoun, V. C. "
'"P HERE'S no doubt he's a very
J[ dill" rent chara'ter," observed
my friend Chatty Mather, A. B. "But
we don't want to sit in this fog and
hear about it. There's 19 verses to that
hymn."
So we went out. We had been to a
sing-song in a "rough" house in Port
sea, and it was getting towards that
time in the evening when hilarious
spirits insist on using the table as a
platform and make grave attempts to
dance hornpipes on the mantelshelf.
"But what's the song all about?" I
asked, as we walked up Queen street.
"Didn't I never tell ye about that?
No? It starts here, too. This yer Alac
grigor Caijoun was in the Dooke, layin'
in the stream, when C'ap'n Billy Bunson
hoisted his pennant on her. Fust gen'ral
leave after, Sam —which was the tally
Cahoun sailed tinder in that ship—
didn't get back when he ought. He
was adrift 40% hours, and then he ar
rove aboard in a waterman's boat, wld
one boot on, no cap, and a general tore
appearance. He limbered up afore the
skipper the followin' Thursday, a'
course.
" 'What's this?' says the Cap'n.
'Broke your leave by over 48 hours?
How's that?'
" 'Missed me train, sir,' says Sam.
" 'What hole of a place was you in
then, where they on'y runs one train in
two days?'
" 'London, sir.'
" 'Master-at-Arms, how many trains
from London in a day?' said the Cap'u,
turain' to the johndy.
"The johndy looks 'em up. 'Nearly
40, air.'
'"Did you miss all the 80, my man ?'
" 'On'y jist, sir. Ilardly to be called
a miss ii wasn't. A sort of a noviter,
air, I should call it.'
"'lndeed! Fourteen days ten A, and
stop his leave for a month, Master-at-
Arms.'
" 'Very good, sir,' says the johndy.
'But he's already habitual leave, sir,'
(Only going ashore once in three
months.)
"Cap'n Bunson hung on a minit as
the beadle —which Is the same as a
Johndy—spoke, and Sam took the op
portunity to say he'd rather have cella
than 10 A.
"The Cap'n looked him up and down
for a minit or two. 'Well, my man,' he
says, 'we don't know each other very
•well yet, but I think we shall. Of all
tho impudent scoundrels I ever met
wld, you're the worst. You come
aboard In a filthy condition after a
drinking turn-out, nnd tell lies about
mlssin'trains' —('On'y jist, sir,'whispers
Sam) —'and now you ast a favor! You
want to choose your punishment, eh?
Why, if you told the truth I wouldn't
•Ire vp nnv; flt oil . Ml VFLJL Jll£D li£ StUfl
say you miss trains, ana 11 one Br you
think of sendin' a chit off explainin'
that you're dead drunk and can't come.'
"'Xo, sir. Never struck me as any
good, sir,' says Sam.
" 'Exactly. And yet you all know
that I know what's the matter.'
" 'Yes, sir.'
" 'Try to tell the truth for the future,
then. And as you want cells, do seven
days of 'em in addition to the 10 A.*
"Sam done his cells, meditatin' deep
all the time, and then done his 10 A
taiournful. It's very wearin' is 10 A,
while cells is quiet and peaceful. In
10 A, when it's your watch below, you
clean brass or paint work, or holystone
decks, or take a rest for two or TMRC
hours on the quarter deck, standin' at
attention facln' the paint-work, nnd
two yards from anythink to lean
ag'inst. You eat under the sentry's
eye (and eat rapid, too, because your
time's short) sittln' on tho cable-deck,
which is the windiest place In the ship.
It's a fair torture of a punishment, al
though it don't Bound hard tn par
liament, where they asts about it some
times. Your grog's stopped in both
punishments, and you mustn't smoke, a'
course.
"When Sam next got leave lie done
the usual —broke It. Instid of him, a
telegraph come to the Cap'n. That
mornin' the Cap'n was the most fero
cious on the defaulters I ever seen him.
lie gave 'cm all the mnxi'um punish
ment. He yapped at tho officers; he
said there was court-martials still to l>e
bad; he swore he'd have a liangin' at
the yardarm; or, as there wasn't any
on some ships, he'd put up wld a
david.
"We was all in the dark, a' course,
about what had upset him. We thought
his noolaids at breakfast was on'y wnr
ranteds or cookers, and a little thing
like that is quite enough to throw a
post-cap'n out o' gear, 1 can tell ye.
But when Snm nrrove, 63 hours late, as
usual, we heard dlff'rent.
"Sam was put in Irons at once, and
piled down below before he knew where
he was. He looked very hurt at the
johndy and ast him why he give him
this sort of thitvg, so diff'rent to his
ÜBual welcome. Where wan them smiles
he knoo HO well ? he ast, and the johndy
told him It wasn't no smllin' turnout
this time. 'lt's mut'ny and court-mar
tials,' h« says.
" 'Ah, well,' says Sam, ns they was
shuttin' the cell door, 'we can't all bo
bloomin' well sotless. My pore head!
Sleep, gentle sleep. Rock me —'
" 'Did you send thin?' said the Cap'n,
when be was broupht before blir Tbe
Cup'll wan tappiu' a telegraph, and look
ing dark as—as—the double-bottom.
" 'I certainly sent 011 c, sir,' says Sam,
and quite sober be was by this time, I
ran assure ye.
" 'Bead it,' Buys the Cap'n. 'IH that
it?'
"The rendin' on it was 'Blind drunk,
won't come. Y'OUTB respectful, M. A.
Cahoun.'
" 'Yes, sir, that's it,' says Sam. 'I guv
It to the landlord of the Dog and Duck
to send when my leaf was up, if I was
too drunk to send it myself. But it's
true, sir, it's quite true. I enn bring
witnesses to prove it.'
"The Cap'n nearly choked hiaaelf. He
couldn't get out sufficient words nt
once. Might he be perished if ever he
met such infernal cheek, he said. Any
fool would know it was true. "I nk' him
away. I'll apply for u court-martial.'
"Now all tliiH time Sam had been
puttln' 011 the injured-innocent look,
and he'd got it Bet.
" 'But, sir,' he lammed off, 'you told
ine to do It. You said, tell the truth and
shame the devil and I'll let you off the
next time. And now I've done It, see
what I git? That's trustfulness, that
is!' Aud be pretended to turn to go
below with the johndy.
"A sort of recollection scemud^come
over Cap'n Bunson. ll is for'id begun
to unwrinkle from the up and down
s'.rokes and started to wrinkle the other
v.ay for n smile. Hut he smoothed lila
face.
" 'Come here, Cahoun,' he called.
'Are you a Scotchman?'
" 'On'y a Stamshaw Scotchman, sir.'
"'Oh, on'y a Stamshaw Scotchman?
And what's that?'
" "Father, Scotch. Mother, Cockney.
Meself born in Stamshaw, sir.'
"'I see. Well, Cahoun, you do honor
to your country.'
" 'Which one, sir?" said Sam.
" 'The country of mefastitiscs,' he
says, meanin' Scotland. 'You'll over
reach yourself one day, my man. I re
member the occasion. I was skarcastic,
and you think it's fine fun to carry on
the joke, do ye? A seaman must learu
that a officer can turn his jest to earnest
very sharp.'
" 'I wish you'd do it now, sir,' says
Sam, smart as anythink.
" 'The Cap'n frowned agin. lie didn't
quite sec the point. He had to think
out to hisself. "I promised to let him
off, in fun. He takes it in earnest. 1
tfcke his earnest in earnest and start
out to run him In for a court-martial,
but he says he wishes I would turn my
joke to earnest, 'cos then I must let
him off. 1 believe the devil's cornerad
me.'
"Sam said he surmised all this argu
ment was goin' on in the Cap'n's mind,
and when he jist said 'Remanded,' he
knoo he was safe.
"The Cap'n sent for him next day to
his cabin.
" 'Cahoun,' he said, 'l've decided to
be in earnest.'
" 'Thank ye, sir.'
" 'l've put you in my boat's crew.'
"Saan was took aback, flat aback,
ne'd never been petted before.
" 'But I'm habitual leave, and a
thorough bad chara'ter, sir.'
" 'You have been. But I'll give you a
clean sheet, Cahoun. You start afresh.'
" 'l—my—excuse me, sir, my eyes is
weak,' and Sam drawed his sleeve
acrost his face.
"Tlic Cap'n was lookln' through Sam
all this time he was trvin* not to leak.
When he sees he was a bit manly agin',
'Shake hands, my man,' he says, and
they shook hearty.
" 'For the future, sir—'
" 'No promises, Cahoun,' puts in the
Cap'n. 'I won't have It. You are in
my boat. Don't disgrace me.'
"That was Cap'n Bunson's way.
"When his cox'n was promoted to a
higher ratin', Sam Cahoun took the
billet, and so there you are. Xow you
,know Sam, ard you will be able to
understand that for Cap'n Bunson he'd
go through brimstone and treacle, to
put it mild.
"Well, now we comes to Egypt, and
the desert and the fight in the night.
You know the Naval Brigade was there,
a' course. Cap'n Bunson was there wid
it, and Sam, who follered him like
a shadder in every scrap, which was
right. As Sam said: 'S'pose the Cap'n
captures tt« enemy in bunches like
Nelson used to do, I must be there to
stack up the captured swordses and
spearses, while he politely bows to the
niggers.'
"Rut in this night tight the Cap'n got
lost somehow. You remomber we was
drove back, formed up, broke again, re
formed, each man plyin' his gun or his
cutlass wid all his might to keep his
own life. It was the most tremenjas
burnin' fiery furnace I've even bin in.
You couldn't see In the least what you
wiu- ii (join' of, I seemed t<> hear dreamy
DrTwPPn TUP ilTlrfT wuriC or rtffnn mho
thrustin", Sam moanin' that he'd lost
the Cap'n, and nstin' everybody if they'd
seen him. And they all said'Nol' em
phatic, und went on fightln', thlnkin'
he was wid some other company.
" 'What did he want to slope off by
Msself for, tryin' to sneak all the glory,'
I heard Sam sayin'. 'Nelson always
uster Btick by his cox'n and share it.
Well, so long. Chatty, I Been him last
over this way. Out the way, you!' And
still in a dream, I seen him down one or
two Nooblans and pass into the thick of
the fight.
"Then I surmised he'd bin speakin' to
me.
"But the rest of us was pushed buck
and back, sweatln' and baked. Some
times I heard, and yet did not hear,
husky voices screamln': 'Stick to It,
Navy,' or Number One thunderin':
'Steady on the right, men!'orthepipln'
of the sub-lootenant: 'Off-sides there!'
us a Dervish speared his way through
the line nnd he pipped him wid his re
volver.
"And ns for me, I WOR gettin* tireder
and tireder. The whole enrth was full of
mad black men, and they was nil waitln'
their tutu nt me. Something *ud loom
up like a figure In a fog, biff nnd midden.
There'd he a little private flght, and one
of ns wns down bltln' at the sand. or
rlutchin' at the air, or beatln* a tattoo,
or just simply still. And the sound In
j'our ears was mat'deuln,' BO that the
ryes seemed useless. Three-and-forty
times I lunged and parried, and three
and-forty niggers made earth, and still
they popped up. And I was diggin'
lazily away at 'em wid my bayonet,
downin' of 'em, when I woke up in a
Held hospital tent, nnd Sam WM holding
my hand.
" 'I found him,' he says, after a bit.
"'Who?' says I.
" 'Cap'n.'
" 'Didn't know he was lost,' I says,
and went to sleep again.
"When I was gettin' well I heard all
about it.
"It seems the cap'n had got separated
In the rush, wid between four and live
bluejackets —"
"Between four and Ave, Chatty?" I !
naked.
"I)ld I say between ? That'll how it was
telt me. I surmise there was a budding
A. B. amongst 'em then, an O. D., but I
don't know for certain. They was sur-,
rounded by a howlln' mob, no doubt
fought away blind like I did. But one
went down, and another went down,
and on'y Cap'n Bunson and one blue
jacket was left, back to back, when Sam
Cahoun came boundin' Into the circus,
yellin' out 'Stamshaw for ever!" which
he'il made a kind o' war-cry; and 'Wayo
Wuz-Fuz!' and sich things. The other
pore fellow was speared at that mlntt
by n big buck nigger, but Sam WM on
the spcarsmsn at the Rame instant and
pprcad him out BO that he never Bpoke
no more.
"Then he stood by the cap'n and they
fought silent, except when Bam used
his navy revolver or his sea-service cut
lnsM wid effect. Then he'd remark loud
enough for the cap'n to hear: 'Brans
buttons retired hurt, sir,' refcrrin' to a
chap who wore a coat but no trousies,
who was partlo'larly active. The brass
buttons jist shone up iu the starlight,
j e understand. 'Chap wid a white shirt
iiicked off, sir.' The cap'n answered not
a word, V>ut fought grim. He wu breath-
In* hard, too. At last the crowd seemed
to inelt away, and they two thought
they was safe, when another mob in full
retreat rolled along, and pore Cap'n
Ilunsou fell wid ft shovel-headed spear
Jn his chest.
"The battle was ended, the enemy
viiH gone home, and the British army
ramped where it stood. Search parties
went out lookln' for the wounded, but
the battle had been scattered, and no
ambulance came nenr Samuel, where he
stood by the cap'n. So at lust he hoisted
him up, and wid him towards
No 45
the nearest ramp fire, faraway.
"The enp'n pot about before I did.
My wounds was not any of "em dan
perous. but they was in great plenty. I
pot 13 hurt certificates. "Just your
luck,' says Sam, 'I go in the same battle
and on'y pit four! Look at the honoi
you're got'.'
" 'Well, you should 'a stood by me,' I
said, 'then you could 'a shared it, for
oil I care. I ain't a cap'n though, I
ain't.'
" Now, Chatty,' he says, 'you're
e-wanderin.' Wound No. II ain't quite
healed. Go to sleep.'
"The cap'n made full inquiries about
Sani's evolutions on the battlefield. He
offered to pit him promoted to a war
rant's billet. Rut Sam wouldn't take a
warrant at any price. He said he wasn't
goin' to l>e no salt beef squire; it waa
bad enough to look after cap'ns, let
alone gunners' and boatswain' stores.
His head wasn't good enough for any
kecpin' of accounts, he said: andhewae
goin' to be cap'n's cox'n and nothin'
else, except adm'ra'ls cox'n later on,
when Cap'n Bunson got his hoist to the
flag rank.
"The cap'n argued the point, but Sam
could always beat him at that.
"So the cap'n give in. But he had
forwarded an account of it all, and a
strong recommend for the cross. And
lie got it too, did Cahoun, and the queen
lierself pinned it on.
"For once in a way Sam lost his
bearin's. The queen heM out her hand
lor him to kiss, nnd Sam ups and shakes
it hearty. She laughed, and so did the
prince, and all of 'em. Sam seen the
point then, and when the prinoe
stepped forward holdin' out his hand,
Sam dropped on his knee and went to
kiss it. But the prince wouldn't have
it, and they shook like old friends, and
all the court crowded around in the next
room to shake with the tall sailor, wid
'For Valor' on his chest, and ast him
how he done it, nnd he said he didn't
know, he supposed he was excited at
the time.
"And now the cap'n's a full adm'ral,
and Ram is adm'ral's cox'n, and his
betrd torpedo-rip—which 4s pointed—
and all goldy colored: thfc finest made
cox'n in the navy, and that Is as muchj
as to say the whole world.
"And when lady visitors sees him a
slttln' in the starp-sheeta of the
adm'ral's barge, wearln' the little iron
Maltese cross, they say: 'The Victoria
cross! Dear me. how did you get that,
ray good man?* And he answers: 'lt'B
nil n mistake, mum. I was wanderin'
round wantin* a scrap, and I come up
like the pleeceman towards the end of
one and took all the glory. The other
bluejackets, mum, what was there be
fore me, happened to lose the number
of their mess, and the queen don't give
her medals to dead men.'
" 'Do you mean the poor fellows were
killed?' says the lady, ehrlnkln' wid
horror at the way he says It.
" 'Yes, mum. But we expect that sort
of thing in a fightli' navy. If death
conies, we say, let him come sharp and
short. No maimin' and blindin', but a
fair downer in action. That's sea divini
ty, mum. We ain't tender and we ain't
treated tender.'
" 'How dreadful!* says the lady, and
then Bhe asts the adm'ral If all his men
are such brutes as his cox'n, and the
adm'ral laughs, and says he hopes so."
—ldler.
A Good Thins to Do.
Little Elmer (quoting) —Be sure
you're right, then— Then what, pa?
i iirrr* *iWj <w*aU» _
TWrj- Could Do It W«II.
Miss Teeters —Don't you think that
women are qualified to become mem
bers of congress, Mr. Spatto?
Mr. Spatts—They ore qualified to be
come members of the senate, at all
events.
"Why do you make a distinction be
tween the senate and the house of rep
resentatives?"
"Because I think that women sena
tors could give away the secret® of
the executive sessions quite as well an
the men."—Louisville Courier-Journal.
Wide Awake.
First Burglar—lt's no use tryin' dot
place t'-niglit, Bill. De man an' his wife
went In 'bout an hour ago, an' I heerd
him tell he'd buy her a di'mond neck
lace to-morrer.
Second Burglar—What's dot got t*
do wid it?
First Burglar—Plenty! She won't be
able t' sleep fer t'lnkin' 'bout it, an* he
won't sleep fer t'lnkin' how he'» got t'
pay fer It.—Puck.
One Way to Tell.
"Mamma," said little Frances, "It
you were to meet a black cat in a dark
room at niglit, how could you tell
which was cat and which was dark
ness?"
"Why, Frances, I don't think you
could tell at all."
"Oh, yes you could, mamma"
"now?"
"By rubbing up against it."—Louis
ville Courier-Journal.
A Flnanrlal Genius.
She —Mr. Uptown lias bought, hia wife
a diamond ring that cost SOOO What
extra vugance!
He —No extravagance about it. On
the contrary, lie wilt save money by It.
She will not need any new gloves as
long us she has that ring.—Tammany
Times.
Teddle's Idea.
Little Teddie—Did our baby come
right to us from llearen?
His Mammar-Yes, darling; right
straight down.
Little Teddie—l guess he must 'a' lit
on his feet and that's what makes him
so bowlegged, then.—Cleveland Leader.
Making; the Best of It.
Mr. Crusty (from above) —Eugenie,
tell that young man that It's 11 o'clock.
The Young Man (gratefully) —Now
that's what I call real nice in your fa
ther. The last car leaves at one. Do
you think he'd mind keeping an eye out
for it? —N. Y. Journal.
Hard Lack.
"I hud awful hard luck," said the
forger to his companion in Sing Sing.
"I spent u month getting the signature
of a reputed millionaire down fine, and
just when I had his check ready the
darn fool went Into bankruptcy."—Har
lem Life.
How to Talk.
Young Politician—Through what
means do you think 1 can< best lay my
views before the people in educating
them to my theories?
Old-Timer—What's the matter with
your hat? —Detroit Free Press.
Ho Had It.
Doctor—Mr. En peck. I fear your
wife's mind is gone.
Mr. Efrpeck—That doesn't surprise
me. She has been giving me a piece of rt
every day for ten years.—Up-to-Date.
l oatlarlng Proof.
Quizr.er —Do you believe in heredity?
Oldboy—Sure" thingl There's my
grandson, for exajnple. He's in love
with the same soubrette I adored wTien
I was his age. —N. Y. Journal.
rroeraatlaattoa.
•There are as good flsh In the sea,"
Ah, yes. so roes the olden tale:
Dut. wait too long, your fate 'twill be
To find your bait has