VOL- xxxiv
JQ Boots
ar^d
ICI
' : jSTjU To Suit All
Corns to us and you'll iinc! our stock so large that you can find
what you want —All varieties of shoes for sale at lowest prices—Our
entire fall and winter stock is open and ready for your inspection—
Our stock was never larger than the present —Complete stock o<
Ladies' and Misses' fine Dongola, Box Calf, winter tans, Lname s 111
welt sole, made for winter wear.
In Men's shoes our stock offers many selection* of winter tans, hm
enamels, cordovans, box caLfs and many other. Have you seen our
genuine water-proof shoe? It is a dandy—the upper extends arount
the welt to the edge of the sole—this in connection with sheet ru >-
ber and cork bottom filling makes a complete joint 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
Full stock of Boy's high cut copper toed shoes
Large and complete stock of rubber goods of all kind—helt boots,
Felt shoes and warm lined shoes and slippers of all kinds at rock
bottom prices.
Full stock of sole leather and shoe findings—Sole- leather cut to
any amount you wish to purchase. High iron stands for rep airing.
Do you wear box calf shoes? We have a polish put up for box
calf shoe* which keeps the leather soft and pliable. When in neet
of boots and shoes
CALL AND SET US.
JOHN BICKEL.
128 8. MAIN St BUTLER, PA.
T. H. BURTON, * T. H. BURTON.
. fSTYLE.f
Style; is Everything Now-a-days
And we are glad that it appertains to every article in our stock, for correctne ss
and elegance are sureconcomitants to artistic development.
it CMIS Yen ao More to be la Harmony With The Best Expressed Styles of
The Scatoa, 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 ycrn will truat us to serve you.
T. H. BURTON,
30 SOUTH MAIN ST., BUTLER, PA.
J. S. YOUNG,
Tailor, Matter and Gents Furnishing Goods.
makes the problem of looking dressy and keeping cool a hard one
——'£ nt we've solved it; and for once economy, comfort and fashion go hand in h&ud
Our summer suita are finer in fabric, nobbier in pattern and more sty lisb in cu
has ever before, they fit your curves and yet they're not sweat bath outfits. Tlie
prices may surprise you.
J. 8. YOUNG, Tailor.
101 S. MAIN St., - - - BUTLhR, PA
|(j Sy TftA Pleasing Prospectfjf
j -f* TO FIND THE COAT so satisfactory at
II / 'i. /*&/ the first trial. This is the universal testi-
II Ll /I/\ mony of our patrons, who are all lovers of
I V \!C > H \ 1 1. neat fitting clothes. Without them no man
I \l V* X Y 1 |M»I looks well dressed.
\ \ J /v» M A COAT WKIvL MADE is made to fit and
jy.-q -If )•—U not to aet-iust-hit-or-miss; an artist well may
• -T | 1 L u/jtake delight in seeing a nest fitting coat.
L ] V/A rv»— 4 Good material, jjood workmanship and good
; 1 W 1 \\ fits are the pr»»of that have made our tailor
l l/ \\ V —rrl a « uccess - We guarantee this and ask
i t vJ I \ jX~ —'1 IV you to look at our patterns. Our prices are
'7| \ Z s *) cut down to the lowest notch.
,L ' ' /cii K \ m,\ 1 C F KFPK TAILOR,
ll I J ' 142 N._Maln^j^^^£^a
C. F. T. PAPE & BRO.
JEWELERY.
WE SAVE YOU 25 PER CENT ON:—
DIAMOND#,
WATCHES,
/*
j CLOCKS.
/ SILVERWARE,
SILVER NOVELTIES, ETC
Our stock is complete in every detail Our stock of Diamonds
ts the largest in Butler County, and as we buy direct from the im
porters you can save the Jobbers profit 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 are or money refunded. We give our special at
tention to repriring of fine watches and jewelry. We take old gold
and silver the same as money, paying the highest market prices.
122 South Main St., Butler Pa.
yOOO0QO00OOOOO0<8>OOO»POO0O(
pIHE COMMERCIAL,"
I fW. K. THORNBURG Prop'r., Evans City, Pa.J
4 L This popular just been entirely remodeled <
fc and refurnished. Everything convenient, and guests 4
will always receive close attention. 4
II Located near Postoffict* and P.& W. Depot. When
J in Evans City t">p at the Commercial. Bell Tele- {
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Constipation
C.T.ISC3 fully half tin* sickness in the world. It
retains the digested fowl too long in the bowels
and produces biliousness, torpid liver, ludi*
Hood's
geslicn, bad taste, coated V fl I
s: heads' lie, in- all 2^
gomnla, etc. Hoo«l's Fills ■ || 1
cure constipation and ail its
results, easily and thoroughly. tljc. Alldnipgisva.
Prepared by C. I. Hood & Co.. Lowell. Mass.
The ouli I'iUs to taxe with Hood's Sarsapanila-
Thouftandii are Trying Tt.
In order to proro the great merit of
Ely's Cream Balm, the most effective cure
for Catarrh and Cold in Head, we have pre
pared a generou* trial siz? for 10 cents.
Get it of your Urnggi-t or send 10 rent-; to
ELY BROS., 36 Warren St., N. Y. City.
I suffered from catarrh of the wort kind
ever s.uoe a boy. and I never hoped for
cure, but Eij » Cream Balm seen.- do
even that. Many acquaintauc -uz • 1
it with excellent results. —<>M.-ar Ostruin,
45 W'nrreu Ave.. Ouosg", *"■
Ely's Cream Balm ia the acknowledged
cur- f.ir catarih and contains uo coc- ine,
mercury nor nny injurious drug. Price,
60 coiiti At d.."vi»;" 1 -r h y mail.
RAILROAD TIME TABLES
I*., Bessemer A. L. E.
Trains leave Butler. (Bntler time) at
11:40 A. M. and jP. M . trains arrive at
9:55 A. M. and 2:J55 P. M.
pITTSBUKG k WESTERN
*■ Railway. Schedule of Pas
senger Trains in eflect May 16,
1897. BLILER TIME.
Anlve.
Allegheny Accommodation 0 -» A.* 9 1« -* m
Allegheny ' 4 Hy«*r" *lj " *'
New Cuttle Accommcrifttiou 1 ■ **•* •' 1 •
Akron Mail 8 15 A.m 7 <« km
Accommodate n 1" " » " 1- ]*
Allegheny Kxpr«-#« » 0-» P.m 4 •>_» "
Allegheny "Flyer**
I'hicajro Kxpr*-*- .'J 4" li 1*
Allegheny Mail - r ' 4° "
Allegheny "Flyer". _ J
Kllw**! AccomiiKHiatioii ** 7"t
Limited.. "• 4" M !i 17 a m
Kan. and Bradford 3lail «♦ V a m VJ j m
Clarion Accommodation '•> 1» *' • • *
Fox burg Accommodation 7 l'i M * "•» u
DAY TRAINS
Allegheny Express. H 1"» A.M 0 'l2
Ail* # gh*-ny A«- r I.'; '» J" • 2 -'f-V
Sew Cu"t!«* A« •"'•miiM/diiti'Uj m l » A m 7
{•hirago Kxpress :t 40 p.m 4 .V»
Allegheny Aifomiiiodatio!!
Traint going north at ;« m. »n«l ; M'» !'• i" male
close c«»!iii "*tloc nt ' for |> ..»t« on Allfghcn>
Valley Ky.
V"T through t.»all j*<int.i in the w -1, nort
Hj.plv t
A. a. f UOUHf. Agent,
It. B. KKVXoIJIS, i>*ti|i*t, Ihitn r, Pa.
A. P. A.. Allegheny, I'a.
PENNSYLVANIA R i.
WEST EN PENNSYLVANIA DIVISION.
SHRIULI IN l.irwT 3I\V 17, I»'J7.
SOITII . WKKK I)AYS
A M A M A. M il' M IV M
BIfIXKB I«a*e' i' •£> * l " " 1 ' - •} " '
Kav«nl.urK \irlt- « M « *'• II :s* -i >" •
ISutler Jilii' tioii.. " 7 'J7 « 4H 1 Z j > ■>
Butler Jonctioii.. " yi M '■ ■'* ' •'
Kutnmn \irlvc 7 W > 'ill \1 . ■ ■ fi " ■
Tareotaai I " « !< '■»} 117
SliiiriK'Uilr' 7 HI '■> II I- tl 3 .tt .....
nan-UK,,,1 '»V' ]'»>* M "j;-?
.SlmqwljnrK M IHI. !l .11 I | '■ (l
Alli'litiniy * 1"| J I.' • iS>j ' '£> 1
;A. M A M I*. M. I'. M. I'. 31
St'NDAY TRAINS. —Leuve Itiuli-r All.-cli.-m
City ati'l I<rincl(nl iiiteruioJiute »tati"i,fi at 7:X> «. in.,
and WW j». in.
KOKTII. WEEK IiAYS
A M.|A M. A M P. M il*. SI
AII.-klhiii < ity 1.-av, 7 »•>; n '«i II i'. 1 -i <■ I<>
I Shan«l»uT|(. 7 11 i» 1- 11 ...
("laliui.iiil II 111 11 4.'> l-'» ....
| Spriiiplalc •' 'I ■' ■' " '' l
| Tanotum 7M»391* <« 3 <• *>
N'alnMM. 7 :K» !l 11 tt I » .'.I rt *1
butler Jiiiictk.il. ..adrfv,. 7 v, 11 ■£•.• 4 <»., 7
Butl-rJimrtloii... !.«>• 7 l'i '• It ! I" 7"
Saxeuburfc M In 111 I • I: 4!lj 4 , tl
UIT I.Kit ~ni\> m it) :n I 17 i .'> o", ; vi
A M A.M..I* M [P. 31 '!' V
81'XDAY TKAIXH —Alli-sln-ny < ItJ I * Bin
l'T and [.i in- i|l IntMnnefllale wtfltinii> at 7:'£, a. 111. alul
'.C.VI |,. m.
WKEK DAVH. roll Till: EAST. \Vr« DAV-
P.M.-A 31.1 1' 31.P. M
l.l( ll 2A Iv 111 TIK K ar ... I 17
111 lift' 7 ;7'ai Butler Jin,, tlon I> l'i.
I fir Ui 7t' : !v Hu" , .In,, ; .1, * > I'-
, 111.,, l„.f|«'rt I v H 1-
11 3!i! 7A3 " Allegle-ny .1 " * -4 I i "I
3 r.I. " LwuiUrK H ilti 11 4!'
4 (Ci 8 -il '■ I'anlloti (A|».11..) " 7M 11 3li
4 11-,' Hsl " Si,i.ni"i. 7 yll '•''
i«i it 2li - BlulrM-lll". .. ' 7 '«• HI 4"
, If, Ii .ui " 111 .I.villi.. latefwrtiMi..." ■> I*
■H WHII » " AltiHiiia " ... h '
1 iml ll In " llanl.liMiK " :i
4 .'mi il £t " l'hlla<l.-l|,lil " , .... II *1
P. 31.iP. 31 \>l I' >'•
On Sunday, tiain h-aving Both r 7 ■'•*» a. in., conn<H-ta
tor Harrinhuig, Altooiia and l'hi)adi*l|»hia
Through trMifis for tlo* « i-t h*av«* I'ittHhiiig (I'nioii
Station), (OIIOWM:
Atlanth- EX|ITPM, dally vn
I'eiiiiMylvaiiia Liniitoii •' 7:15 "
Day Kxpipw, " 7 M
Main LIIK* K*p RI~N, 11 , . . . .H:im U
I'hila htljihia K*i»re«s, .. .4. I».M
KHUI'-IH Express, .... 7»i **
Fitut Lin-. •• H.KI "
I'liilaila Mail, Hniidav- only ... ... Hlo A,'.l
For ili-tiiili 'l I»formation, SMWIM- • Tho- I.' Watt, I'a-
A>r*. Wmtern Dintrirt, < Wiu-r Fifth Avriue ami Miiilth-
Htr»wt, Ifttahurg, I'H.
J 1J 111 T< IIIMON, J. It. WOOD,
OiK-ntl Manager (JWI'I l*a**r. Agent.
We All Know
that the slovenly dressed man
never receives the respect anil
consideration the well dressed
man gets. One secret in dres
sing well lies in the selection of
the right tailor.
our garments
are cut and made in cur own
workshop in this city. We are
particular about the fit, fashion
and alf the minute details in
their construction.
Would lie pleased to show
you a product of our shop and
also Rive you a pointer in econ
omy.
fall patterns
now displayed
ALAND,
MAKER OF
MEN'S LOTUES
~ Btt* KEEPtR S SUPPLIES
SUCH AS
lltvcs, Hniok«*rs. It rood I'r.inM . Kwtlorifi,
Section Roxc», I ittd urpluj* I idn
tloriM.
Tli© Ix'Ht good* at tlt«i low« pos>lhi«-
prtcrH.
James B. Murphy.
Mercer Wist Kml. Bull F'H.
Near Kam©r©r«*%i't cor/ .>r»'
ABRAMS, BROWN & Co
Insurance and Real htate
STRONG COM PAN IKS
PROM l'T SK I'TI-KMKNTS
llomc I ii*!! ram i •' of New V'lli, li,»ur
aiirt* < 'o, of North AIIIITI' ... "I I'lii-iui.'lpJil;
I'a I'lienlx I IIHII iam i) •>! Hrm.i.'yn. .V \
ami llurtforil limn.im r < n. "t lliirlfm
I Jon n
OFFICE: (Virni rof Main St and tin- l»la
uioml. north of Court llou.v, liutlcr l a.
BUTLER, THUKSDAV, NOVEMBER 18, ISD7
JIM AND JOE AND I.
Underneath the pussy-willows
Where the pool Is deep;
Where the shiners and the ptrcn
And the turtles sleep;
V.'here the water, nice and cool.
Dimpled to :Ue sky;
There we used to £0 and ?tv!m,
Jim and Jce ar.d I.
Down the valley In the glen
Was a dam that we
Built when we wi re little men,
Happy, gay and free;
There we camped a week or so.
Sleeping In a tent:
Thtre we had a water-fall
And a wheel that went.
Down among aide!" brush.
Hidden haif away,
■Was the sawmill by the stream
Where we used to play;
There we used to launch our ships-
Chips upon the tide,
LcadeJ down with sawdust, and
Dreams, perhaps, beside.
Wonder where the boys are goneT
Jolly Jim and Joe-
Chaps who used to plcy with me
Years and years ago?
Dam and mill at.d water-fall
Ail have passed away;
Ard there's nothing left but dreams.
Dr. »n.s that eor■» to stay.
—H. S. Keller, in Chicago Post.
| Cecil's False Faith. %
3
* BY ANNA SHEILDS. V.
« 'a
"tt IS monstrous:"
{ Cecil was marching up and down
the long drawing-room at \\ ellford
place, his face angrily flushed, his brow
in heavy wrinkles, liis whole frame
quivering wltli passion. I had just told
him the terms of Uncle Harry Well
ford's will, for he had been in New Or
leans when our uncle died and reached
home three days after the funeral. "It
was a letter from Mr. Hay," I said, "that
almost killed Uncle Harry. We thought
he had made a new will, but it could
not be found."
Cecil's face brightened.
"A letter from Mr. Hay! A new will!"
he Raid, musingly, but keeping his eyes
keenly bent upon iny face. "Why did
you think that?"
"Mr. Totter told Willard so; but -we
could not find it and—and —Willard
seemed to be pleased."
"Xo doubt! The cur! Xo doubt the
new will gave me the rights of which
he ha 3 robbed me."
"Oh, Cecil, don't—please don't!" I
pleaded. "Willard is not a cur or a
thief."
And yet I said It falteringly, for was
/not Cecil my cousin an<i be-trothed and
Willard only my guardian under Uncle
Harry's will, aud scarcely even a friend
as yet?
But Cecil clenched his handa hard a
moment and said:
"Teil ine again the termn of this un
just will?"
"Uncle Harry has left me the house
and SIO,OOO, and to yon $30,000; nil the
rest—the factory, the real estate in
New York, the bank stock —you know,
Cecil—all the rest goes to Willard!"
1 shuddered at the onth that broke
from Cecil's lips. "But Mr. Dny's let
ter?" he asked.
"Uncle was very ill when that came
and he sent, for Mr. Potter at onec. I
cannot tell yon any more excepting
thnt u search was made for the will and
Willard seemed relieved when it was
not found."
Cecil made no reply to thin. His an
ger seemed to huve been riuiug till it
made him speechless. He strode out at
the French window UTK! down the gar
den path, while I threw myself upon the
sofa and e-ried as I had seldom cried in
ail my petted life. For Cecil was my
betrothed, bad been away more, than a
year, and I fancied I 3ovcd him. Ills
letters had been brief and cold for a
long time, and now, after fine cold ca
ress, he had spoken only of Uncle Har
ry's will—not one loving, tender word
to me—doubly orphaned by our uncle's
death.
Willard was not our own cousin, but
Uncle Harry's stepson, and much older
than either Cecil < . myself. We weir
still children when Willard was sent to
Paris to tnke charge of the importa
tions for our uncle's business and he
had lived thero until Cecil went to N'ew
Orleans to control a brunch establish
ment. Before Cecil left we were for
mally betrqthed.
But I knew that Cecil was not pleas
ing Uncle Harry; that he was extrava
gant, negligent of important business
affairs, and uffly stories of dissipation
came often to grieve us. Mr. Hay, an
Immensely wealthy Louisiana planter,
who was one of Uncle Harry's friends
and business correspondents, had innde
Cecil warmly welcome In his family,
and the letter that had so agitated
him had been at once destroyed, and
no hint of its contents given to me.
But long before this Willard had
come home upon business and Uncle
Harry would not let him leave again
He was a great contrast to Cecil.
Cecil, at 25, was the handsomest man
I ever saw, with curling brown hair
and large blue eyes, a smiling mouth
and perfect features. Ho was seven
years older than myself, but ten years
younger than Willard.
Willard, when he came from Paris,
was a dark-haired, dark-eyed man, with
a grave face, nettled halblts of punctu
ality, a reserved manner; a man. who
Inspired confidence and whom Uncle
Harry, at nearly 70 years of ngc, re
spected, which was ii high compli
ment.
I wns glad Wll'.ard "Was u/wny upon
some business of the estate ns I watched
Cecil pacing up and down the garden
walks, restlessly beheading all my pet
•flowers with his cane. If they quar
reled, I thought, with a shudder—
Cecil looked murderous.
Then I cried again until Mrs. fitone,
my. old governess, who remained as
my companion, came in to comfort, me.
The dear old lady was very kind, very
grntle, but, she s;iid little about Cecil,
and that little seemed to mlvlee me 4o
think no more about him. It bewil
dered me! Ul course I did not expect
a wedding to follow a funeral at once,
but why was Cecil to be treated like
one In disgrace? The new will may
have given him Willard's place and
property. He evidently thought so.
He came in after un. hour or two, in.
which he. hud walked off th« worst of
liis rage, but there was a look In his
eyes that was worse than hot anger,
and ho said:
"That will must be found!"
"There was a thorough search made
for It!" Mrs. Stone said, coldly.
"Yes, by interested parties!" waathe
sneering reply. "The house Is yours,
Marian, no Willard's. I. ask your per
mi : ion to look for the will."
I pave It and then escaped to my own
room, lie would look for the will, per
hnps find It, ai d Willnrd would lose his
inheritance. And I was not glad! A
horrible weight oppressed me as I
thought of Cecil master in Wellford
T'laee—master of the factory— my hus
band !
At the lnut thought the. sealo. fell at
last from my girlish eye*, and I knew
that my love for (Y' il was but. the nat
ural alTi-4'tion of n child for a life cotn
jNinlon, exalted to an Ideal perfection by
4i youthful imagination. And when th<
idol had fallen there rose in its pis -e a
grave face with large, soft, black eyes,
and I covered nay own face to hide hot
blushes; for never had Willard spoken
one word of love to Cecil's betrothed—
never given me ether than the gentle
courtesy due to his stepfather's niece
and his short-time ward.
He was a kinc -imongst men. and 1
hnew it. For years I hr.d known of
Uncle Harry's affection and trust in hia
Paris agent unci r.ncc he had been at
home I had nof wondered at either.
The factory hands fairly worshiped him,
for he wns strict in rule, just in every
dealing, stern to rebuke fault, and yet
in trouble or illness he was frenerous as
a prince and gentle as a woman.
And while 1 thought of all this I could
henr Cecil in the ronni so lntcly solem
nised by the presence of death, tossing
about the furniture, rummaging every-'
where, todifrfnhecit W illard. 1 could not
bear it. At least he should know the
danger menacing h : T>!
I slipped downstairs and over to the
village, nearly two miles away, sending
fro~ t! ere a telegram to New York —
only a few words to
"Willard Deijr.lson, M Hotel, New
York:
"You are reeded at Wellford Place 1m- L
mediately. MARIAJT."
Then J sped homeward, already re
lieved. At least he would come back
and know of Cecil's return. It was
evening when we heard him in the hall.
"I HAVE FOt'ND IT."
I had been reading and Cecil lingering
the keys of the piano when W'illard
came in.
liis face was very grave, but he spoke
cordially to Cecil, who answered briefly
and insultingly—almost accusing him
of concealing- the will. For one second
tlic dark eyes flashed'angrily, but before
he spoke W'illard wore his calm, self
posses,etl face again.
"You cr - unjust, Cecil," he said; "oil
my Influence wtm exerted in your be
half."
"It looks sol" wris the sneering reply.
"Your uncle thoujrht his ttUMiness
should be left in.compete>■ \ and experi
enced hands. Have yours proved to be
tor
"So. I am not a bargaining trades
man. Uncle ITarry trained inc for a gen
flemau."
The sneering emphasis brought u
dusky red for a moment on Willard's
dark cheek. lie spoke with stern em
phasis:
"He content, then, to leave the care*
of trade to me. Your income and profl
pects will ffive you sufficient for idle
ease."
Tils prospect's! I looted up then, so
puzzled that Willard
"Is it possible you hnve not told
Marian?"
"You have doubtless done so."
"Xo, it was not my duty—certainly
not my pleasure."
"Told me what?" I cried, with a dizzy
feeling and choking of my breath.
Mrs. Stone answered:
"Your uncle's letter from Mr. liny an
nounced! Mr. Cer.il Wellford'n engage
ment to Miss Rose Hay."
"You may as well add," miid Cecil,
"that we were privately married theday
I le/t. No one knows that as yet, but I
ehail claim my bride when I return to
New Orlea:.s.
I staggered toward the door, but
would have fallen had notu strong arm
held me tip as I reeled forward. The
same kind support led me to the library
and placed me in « deep armchair. I
must have been white and looked faint,
for u moment later a glass of wine was
held to my l!p«, and Willard said, very
tenderly:
"Drink this, Marian! My poor child,
try to think he is not worthy of your
regret."
That nerved me. I drank the wine
and said: "I am not grieving! Tnm
glad—glad!"
And then I broke into hysterical weep
-Injr. T was but a Rirl, and had been
tried hardly in the hist few weeks. I
had thought all my tears spent, but
they flowed freely, as I buried my face
In the cushion of the chair and sobbed.
A gentle hand stroked my curls, and,
after I was quieter, 1 heard Willard
leave the library.
Cecil had gone to his own room, and
Mrs. Stone was alone, when at last I
returned to the drawing-room. She
understood me, I think, for when she
kissed me, she said:
"I wanted to tell you before, but your
uncle forbade it."
"Was he pleased?" I asked.
"I cannot tell you. Mr. Hay Is an old
friend, and his only child will doubt-'
less inherit large wealth, butyour uncle
never sipoke of the matter to me be
yond giving me the letter to read and
destroy and telling me to keep the mat
ter from jou till we heard from Cecil."
"Hut the will?"
"Of that I know nothing."
We were a constrained [wu ty at break
fast, but when the meal was over Cecil
announced his determination to search
In Unclu Harry's room until the will
was found. Very gravely Willard ad
vised him to let the matter rest, but wns
answered by such taunts us no man
could bear patiently.
"Have your will!" he said. "We will
all search again."
But after all the search fell upon Cecil
and Mrs. Stone. I would not stir a
finger, and Willard stood beside me
while the others turned over every pa
per and rummaged every corner. As
Cecil openedaJapan cabinet full of rare
coins and stones, 1 saw Willard turn
pale, and a moment later Cecil cried:
"I have, found It!"
He opened it hastily. It was very
short, and an he read all the blood de
serted lit* face and he guxjx-d for breath.
It was long before he spoke. Then he
said:
"You have sce.n this?"
"I have," said Willard, gravely.
"You—hid—it I"
"No! I suspected It# whereabouts,
but did not know!"
"And you would have let it lie there?"
"I will destroy It now if you consent.
Let the mutter lie between UK two."
He glanced nervously at me. Rut
Cecil said: '"Marian must see it!" and
gave me the, paper.
Then I knew that my uncle had rc
voked his old legacy to Cecil and left
him five dollar , while my Inheritance
v as left Intact, upon condition that 1
married Willard.
The paper fell from my hands, and I
covered my Willard's voice broke
an oppressive silence.
"This paper concerts us only." he
said, "and 1 t::ko the ■ '> of
destroying it."
I heard a serape and Cecil's
voice saying:
"You are nobler thai; I am."
Footsteps left the ron-. and I
thought I was alone till I heard Wizard's
voice, low and tender:
"Marian," he s:;id, "your uncle
guessed the secret of my love for you,
though I implored him to leave you
free, but lie irade the will you have just
seen. Only its ashes remain, and you
are free, as before. Do not grieve*
Marian. It breaks mv heart to see you
unhappy!"
I lifted my face then. My secret
must have been in my eyes, for I v.:is
caught, in a strong ciasp. and a tender
kiss fell on my lips, as Willard whis
pered:
"My love! My-wife!"
So Cecil, returning to his own wife,
knew that his false faith had left no
broken heirt at Wellford Place, where,
Jn the Christmas time of rcioicincr.
there was a nniet wedding, art! 1 be
came Indeed Willard's wife. —N. Y.
T.ec?*i r.
Chnrlottr Wolter's Voice.
When Charlotte Wolier, the great
German actress, who died recently in
Vienna, began her stnpe career, her ;
voice was disagreeable, harsh, hesitat
ing and girlish. l'rom that same throat
proceeded a few j-earslatera voice such
as has never before cr since been heard
on the German stage, metallic and full,
so charming, so intensely affecting, i
Now the listener's ear reveled in the
sweetness of her tones, now it was car- !
ried away by their irresistible force, j
The "Wolter-schrei" (Wolter cry) is a
new German word', coined expressly to
designate the expression of the utmost
horror, a terrible cry, piercing to the
very marrow in one's bones, which she
uttered in Goethe's "Goetz von 15er
lichingen."—St. Louis Globe-Demo
crat.
What If, Virtue f
Emperor Sigismund, in convereat.on
with Theo'loric, archbiship of Cologne,
asked the primate how he ought to act
so as to obtain happiness.
"We cannot, sire, expect it in this
world."
"What, then, is the way to gain hap
piness hereafter?"
"Yon must live virtuously."
"What do you mean by that expres
sion?"
"I mean," answered the archbishop,
"that you should always pursue th-t
plan of conduct which you promise to
follow when laboring under a fit of
gout or indigestion."—Golden l*«ys.
A jtnil Prteedonl.
A new anecdote of Queen Victoria is
quite luterestir-K'. Lor,] Melbourne,
who was prime minister wliou Vic
toria \ias contemplating marriage
with Prince Albert, said to her when
she was urging him to have parliament
conifer the title of "kin»r consort" on
the prince: "For God's sake, mum.
let's hear no more of it. If you once
get the English luto the way of making
kings, you will get them into the way
of unmaking them." The queen eaw
the logic of her bluff premier's re
marks and Prince Albert was not made
king.—Troy Times.
—The smallest diocese in the world Is
Bald to be that of St. Helena. The
bishop. T)r. Wc'hy. received n salary of
S9OO, and oversees three olorjryiiien.
Still, he has the title of bivlinp
Provision for Doth.
Smith walked up Market street the
other evening with a box of candy un
der one arm and a big package of meat
under the other.
"Hello, Smith," said Brown; "gone to
housekeeping? I didn't know you were
married."
"I'm not yet."
"What are you doing with that candy
and meat, then?"
"Going to Hee my girl."
"Do you have to furnish the family
with meat already?"
"Oh, no; the candy Is for the girl and
the .meat is for the <log. I have to square
myself with both."—Sun Francisco Post.
Tlie Comment* of Frlfidi,
Jinks—^You know that fellow Crooks
we dined with the other night?
Griggs—Yes.
J. —He's the most internal hypocrite
you ever inet. I never saw such a
wretched, miserable —
G. —Stop, etopl I've heard all that be
fore.
J. —Why, I never opened my mouth
about it.
G.—No, but you forget I walked home
with Crooks after I left you. —Brooklyn
Life.
Thff One to lllnuic.
The hospital nurse leaned over the
l'orm of the prostrate sufferer. "Your
feet arc torn and bleeding," she said;
"you must have had a terrible journey."
"It was my wife's fault. She insist
ed" —a sudden look of anguish came
over the faoc of the patient —"on darn
ing those socks herself." —Demorest's
Magazine.
A Student of Human Nnture.
Hlinks-By the way, I must intro
duce you to my friend Winks. 11c is
one of the best fellows in the world, a
noble fellow, glorious fellow. He's had
a great many ups and downs, Winks
has.
Jinks —Judging from your enthus
iasm, he is now in one of his ups.—N.
Y. Weekly.
They Woulil KleU.
He —I u.m opposed to women beingal
lowed to vote.
She—What is your objection?
He —If they are allowed to vote they
will all tie practically ballot girls, and
what few there lire of them now make
trouble enough in the world as it is.—
Tammany Times.
A Secret tn He <;»arde«S.
"After all," said Mr. Milled,"-ville to
Mr. Mobile, "your wife Is a very hand
some woman."
"She is indeed," replied Mr. Mobile.
"So long UK she. doesn't let Jier temper
no otic suspi'ds I hat I married her
for her money."—Louisville Conricr-
Journul.
Well Balanced.
"Yes, Miss HowjumeH IK II wonderful
ly Intellectual young woman, but she
has developed her brain at the expense
of ber poor little body. To me she
seems top-heavy."
"Top-heavy? Then you have never
seen her feet.** —( Tribune.
Another Keen Thrust.
"Why 1h it, MiK* Glgiampft, that, no
woman hits ever written a grand epic
poem ?"
"Principally, I think, because she has
always had to put in her time trotting
round waiting on some man." Louix
vllie Courier Journal.
IN IteveuuM Hwrrlf
Jones-Browu—So after your divorce
you got even with your
that was?
Brown-Smith Yes.
Jonci--Hrowii Flow?
Brown-Smith (grimly) Married her.
—Yellow liyok
IN THE COUNTRY, YOU KNOW.
(His Letter.)
Yes. old fellow, I went to the country, you
know.
Vlic-ro the- hyacinths Moom and the daf
fodils blow:
For mi slcter was there- with her bevy of
seven;
They are all of thera angels, but still out
of Heaven.
"Twas "Oh. tinele, you've come!" and with
love-seasoned pats
Lr.e a fr ;i>.-somc parcel of juvenile cats
They hung to me, clung to me, wouldn't
let me go;
On the first day I got to the country, you
know.
Then a walk through the mi-adows sug
gested to me
Ar. escape from the noise, and a think.
don't you see;
Go I roamed In the sweet-smelling grasses
afar.
And I borrowed a match and T lit a cigar;
Then I saw through the fence, lying prone
and asleep
A peculiar mtld-countenanceJ horn-han
dled sheep;
So I climbed to his sl<le and kindly bent
low,
And awoke him to see what he'd do, don't
you knew.
And T saw very soon; for he rose to his
feet.
And commenced a peculiar and guarded
retreat;
Retreated—ah— backward—face toward mc,
1 mean.
Much the same as folks do from a klr.g
or a queen;
And 1 pitied h;m much for the fear he dis
played,
AnU I said: "My chappie, now don't
be afraid"'
And I Judge he was not: for, dispenser of
woe,
He came at me as if from a gun. don't
you know!
Ar.d I skipped like a deer, or a yacht In a
breeze,
In a way that distended my pants at the
knees;
And, to uttermost speed by the animal
pressed,
I relinquished my coat and my necktie
and vest;
And I went round the field, trying hard for
first place.
Like a sprinter that's trying to capture a
race:
And, "We'll bet on you, uncle!" was
screeched to and fro;
For the children had climbed on the fence,
don't you know.
As was afterwards said, 'twas quite touch
ing to see—
That undignified creature's attachment
for me;
And wherever my footsteps would go. don't
you mind.
That diminutive monster was not far be
hind!
And he aet-med to have picked up a notion.
Indeed,
That his mission on earth was to further
my speed;
And 1 think that we furnished a capital
show
To the people that happened to pass, don't
you know!
Then u handsome young lady stepped orer
the stile.
With a blessed tin dipper of salt, and a
smile;
And she said: "Come. Dlok, dear!" (that's
the name that I keep.
But I'm glad that 'twas also the name of
the sheep;
For he went to the maid to be fed and
caressed,
While I walked down the road for awhile
and redressed).
And I've mado up my mind that If she'll
«e» It ao,
I wi,l niarry that girl In the fall, don't you
know!
—Will Carleton's Everywhere.
| MARJORIE'S LETTER. |
S __— 1
b 9
BY JENNY WREN.
huve lost your senses, Mar
j[ jorie! None but one utterly
daft would recklessly throw away such
un CilTi r. What mattam it it there are a
Xew gray hairs mingled with the.l>laek?
Better be au old man's darling than a
young man's slave," and Mrs. Hayes,
who had looked up for u moment from
her baking, returned more, vigorously
than before to the kneading of tho
dough.
"True, annt; but suppose a young
man's darling is better than either,"
and a miscievoiiK twinkle shone in the
bright t'3'es, a half smile play ed round
the corners of her rosy mouth, giving a
momentary gliinjise of teeth white and
even. "Where is your wonderful phil
osophy, then?"
"Have your own way. You'll regret
it too iate. Pity John Harding
couldn't have you. You'd make him
miserable enough, Heaven knows,
with your endless airs and graces. It's
easy to see it's him you're thinking of,
notwithstanding youn coquetry. 1
doubt Kquire Arnold will readily con
sole himself, and when, his bride takes
possession you'll wish you'd followed
my advice."
"At least, an at, I can never reproach
you with having withheld its bestowal;
but, come; dou't be angry with me. I
am not at all sure but that you will
have me with you many a long day > el."
Pretty Marjorie Hayes! There were
men enough, old and young, who would
have given half their worldly pot ses
sions to be* sure they held a space, how
ever small, in that heart; but not so
John Harding. With him it was all or
nothing, lie had. given to this girl the
one love of his life; and read in her
eyes glances answering his own; bod
seen her face brighten into expectancy
at his coming; felt her tender pressure
answering liis hand clasp, and hope
would rise buoyant in his heart, only
to be da. iicd again into despair, as lie
would meet her averted glances or in
different words. He. was not very pa
tient, this strong man; and, with his
stern will lient upon a purpose, trifling
was beyond his comprehension.
"You know what I have to offer you.
Marjorie," lie said to her on the even
ing of the samo day of the conversation
recorded above. "1 don't question your
right to better, in one sense, but I must
have my answer. Squire Arnold thinks
the same, I. don't doubt, judging from
the sweetness of your smiles."
Ah, foolish John! The blush which
had risen to 'the girl's cheek faded, the
Kinlln tilaylnp round her Hps disap
peared. and holding erect the shapely
he.'.d, she said:
"Since when did 1 appoint you cm
1i !ir:ti ■ f in" -ini''-. or tears? When I
, -ii*,. ti, <!.<• f«o- "lift*!. Mr. Hard
ing, 1 shall remember you as the llrwt
applicant."
"lNiwrthele: i, 1 tlid not speak with
out reason. lam tired.of it, Mtirjorie—
tired of It all. I am no Jacob to serve
seven years. I—"
"Then stop now" (turning to him
with quick anger). "Doubtless you
think Jnn-ob had something higher In
view of his long waiting. Well, sir,
should you serve for inc seventy times
•even, It would be to receive the Mime
answer- no! My freedom in too sweet
to yield' It. quite so readily, (iood
cveiilng, Mr. llui-ding-. I can Had my
way Inline across )ho meadow alone!"
Hut, silent aud stern, John walked by
ihi?r side unt.il they reached tho thresh
old of tin- door. Then, without a word,
»hu stepped within, and he turned and
!wulkt"«l away. From her own window
she watched liim uutll out of sight,
then threw herself upon her little tied,
with Its snowy couiitcr]*uie, in a very
paMsion of sobs, half auger, half ile
apaJr.
The next morning, bright and early,
Mrs. Hayes, buMllng uliout her mora
4ng duties, i.pied a messenger approarli
klng <lv house. A moment later, with II
>ret-|MC<' TFUL "Uood-moro LUG," he handed
[her a note. "For M iss Marjorie, ma'am,"
*iml was yiAjfcJiJjr outofjdghU
"From John Harding. Some lovers
Iqnarrel reconciled. Suppose I keep it
jiKt a few days. She will thank me for
■it soffit day. I will think it over," and
thu , oliloquizing. she slipped the let
ter into the capacious pocket by her
Fide, v. here it was destined to remain
long days ere it was brought to light.
"Sudden move, that of young Hard
ing. I thought 'he was too sen.sible to
BAT IN HER OWN ROOM BY HER
OPEN DESK.
lot the western fever influence him
when he was doing so well at home.
lUtter let well enough alone. But I
understand he has sold out everything,
leased the farm and started out- anew,
lie gives 110 reasons to anyone. I'm
sorry, for I always liked the lad," and
good old Farmer Ilayee, rising a fort
night later from the breakfast table,
shook his head with a wise shake.
I'oor Mrs. Hayes! As she listened,
her florid face grew pale. Perhaps she
had made a mistake, after all, and at
the memory of that white envelope,
hidden away somewhere in some deep
pocket, a weight of iron was resting
on her heart. She stole a stealthy
glance at her niece. Her cheek had loet
Its color, her hand trembled a little as
she raised a cup of coffee to hc-r lips,
but otherwise she gave no sign.
That evening Squire Arnold called,
and when he left he carried with him
Marjorie Hayes' promise to become his
wife. Thus Mrs. Hayes' ambition was
fulfilled, but vainly did she console her
self with the thought. Something with
in forbade self-congratulation, and the
ruddy color often left her cheek at
some forbidden memory. Squire Ar
nold had no cause to complain of
capricious behavior. No Bpiee of co
quetry tinged Marjorie's manner now.
With quiet calm she moved, about the
old house, busy with preparations for
the now fast-approaching nuptials;
but, oh! what would Mrs. Hayes have
given for one mischievous glance as of
old. one ripple of merry girlish laugh
ter, one burst of happy song.
Days merged into weeks, until one
bright, beautiful morning in May, Mar
jorie rose to the consciousness that her
wedding day had come. The>re was n
strange tenderness in Mrs. lluyes' man
ner, she helped robe, the bride. It
was as though she prepared u lamb for
the sacrifice, but it was too late now,
she whispered ever to herself, and so
bustled here and there in busy prepara
tion, so that none noticed how seldom
she smiled or how wan and pale she
looked.
It was over ut last. Marjorie had gone
through it all as in a dream, scarcely
heeding tlic words which bound her to
another, or hearing her own tolce In re
sponse. Then came congratulations
nnd f;i rewells. and she hadileft her child
hood's home a wife. Then she awoke
front dream life to reality, then for the
first time knew how stern a duty slle
lind imposed upon herself, and she won
dered if her streng-th would not desert
her.
But. Squire Arnold was too proud In
lier possession to dream her nnothex
than satisfied, and for six monthsi she
did her duty well. Then a sudden, sharp
illness prostrated her husband, and be
fore the new year opened she stood,
clad in widow's weeds, beside his grave.
lint, when she went back to her deso
late home she missed even the duties,
and as she realized how diead and
empty life was, a new, hardi feeling
crept into her heart against the man
who had. In his stern, unrelenting nn
ger, worked her this misery.
No word came from the wanderer.
He seemed to have passed forever from
their lives, but in the spring her aunt's
strength failed, and she gladly obeyed
the summons to her side which allowed
her to close the great, lonely house
where she dwelt alone, and go back to
the dear old farm, to the place her aunt
so long had filled.
Soon would it be empty. With a
great start, the girl first saw the awful
change which hod taken place. She
rnrely spoke, but Marjorie wondered
often at the wistful gaze which fol
lowed her every movement around the
room. Hut when a few short weeks had
passed ull knew the end was near. One
evening, just as the sun was sinking to
rest, and Marjorie and her uncle, with
a strange foreboding- ut their hearts,
watched by the sufferer, the sick wom
an, motioning Marjorie nearer, whis
pered: "The letter —in my pockets
thought it best—forgive—"
The girl supposed her wandering,
nnd, stooping, she kussed the lijisalready
cold, and when she raised her head the
eyes had closed, the spirit fled. Then,
when the funeral was over and the
house restored to its quiet, she took
her place beside her uncle, it seenned
ns though nil tlhe glory had died out
of her life, and left only a gray shadow
of itfv former brightness.
Two years passed, uud Murjorie won
dered at the st range calm which seemed
almost paralyzing her life, when sud
denly her energy was roused to action.
A terrible fever iiad broken out In tlieli
very midst. Men, women uud children
fled before it, and there were few to
care for the thousands already stricken
With a sense of almost gratitude. Mar
joric took her place by the bedsides o!
the sick and dying. All exi»o«tulatlon
was iu vain, and night and day she
worked us though unconscious of fu
tiguc. One evening, in passing through
u temporary ward, she caught sight ol
a man whose face, bronzed and bearded,
yet carried with it a forgotten memory
A moment she knelt#>y John Harding'*
side. In his delirium he seemed to rec
ognize her.
"There was no light, Marjorie, iu the
window. It was all iliark—no answer to
my letter. Sol went away. ltwasbe«t
so 1 H*st, best—" und the fever burned
hotter und fiercer, nnd his voice sank
or rose in incoherent words.
"A hopeless case, Miss Marjorie," and
the old physician's voice, still giving her
the name of her youth, roused her from
her reverie. "He worked like a Trojan
among the sufferers, poor fellow, uutll
he wus stricken down himself; and now
he \\lll never work uguiu," uud with u
iJhake of the head the old man passed
"John, John, live for my suke; If only
once I may tell y-ou It wus iny fuult--®ll,
ull mine," and with a burst, of sobs, the
fair young head was pillowed by his
side.
Whru htic bud gone buck for a few
liour*' rest to Uie furm, the word* of bin
delirium ret uruetl to her, uutl with thriu
tiioM- oX bur liUiit.
N0.46
She had said: "Forgive." With ft
strange presi icnce .- lie flew up into the
.unused room, opened the lavender
scented closet, and one by one examined
the pockets of the dresses she hersell
,had bunt,' there and left untouched.
At last in one her search was rewarded.
Paper crackled under her touch, and
drawing forth an envelope yellow with
age, she saw, in the handwriting she
knew so well, her maiden name.
The evening found her still sitting
with wide-open eves, yet seeing noth
ing, and the letter on her lap.
"Korgl ve me, Tou know, dear,
I did not mean it. 1 will trust you. dar
ling. and you. with your gentle ways, roust
teach me patience. Write me Just one
little word of love in answer; or, if you
can't do that, put u light In the east win
dow for me. 1 will see It. and shall know
you have forgiven me, little as 1 deserve it.
Yours tilt death. JOHN HARDING."
"Till death—till death!" the white
lips moaned, and t>o they found her,
ouly idly muttering those words, with
the fever burning and ravaging her ten
der flesh. It was n fierce struggle, and
when it left her win and wasted, she
thought of tlie dreary future ahead
with a wild wish at her heart that she
hail not been spared. Hut one morning,
sitting iu her own room by her open
desk, the old letter spread out before
her, a familiar tread sounded on the
gravel path, and, looking up, she fell
back fainting, for she thought 6he had
seen John Harding's ghost. Hut it was
no ghost, but living flesh and blood re>
ality which bent so tenderly over her
and waited till the came back to
the wasted cheek, and saw the glad
light of recognition leu,? into the open
ing eyes.
Then Marjorie knew that God was
good, and, with a great cry of thanks
giving that her wicked prayer for death
had gone unpunished, sho clung to hia
Ibreast, and, clasping her close to hia
beating heart, John Harding felt the
past was wiped out, and that at last,
after long years, he held his wife.—N. Y.
Ledger.
Eitrtalty of Loyalty.
Loyalty will sometimes induce
strange sacrifices. If we are to believe
a serious contemporary, there wa» a
member of parliament at the Windsor
garden party whose devotion to the
crown carried liim far. When the serv
ants handed round gold-tipped cigar
ettes, this legislator took one and es
sayed to liglrt it. His wife, standing
by, roproved hiu» with connubial so
licitude and candor. "You know, dear,"
she said, "you never can smoke without
being very sick." But the member of
parliament was not to be deterred. "If
queen," he nobly answered, "invitee
me to smoke, I will smoke, cost what
it may." The name of the loyal legis
lator . has not been recorded, nor his
subsequent proceedings that eventful
nfternonn. We hope his wife got him
home safely.—St. James' (iazette.
A Collector of the Queen's Portraits.
A Londoner was reproaching the
owner of a house on the route of the
great procession with having let it for
the day to a citizen of the United
States.
"It is disgraceful!" he said, indig
nantly. "The queen graciously offers
to show herself to a certain number
of her London subjects, and they
promptly let their windows and go to
another part of the town. It is di»-
loyal!"
"Disloyal!" replied the house-letter.
"Just the contrary. We do it for the
purpose of having as many portrait*
of our sovereign tw possible— end ell In
gold."—London Answers.
Afraid of Perjury.
"You are a nice sort of a fellow, you
are," said a counsel to a witness.
"I'd say the same of you, sir, only
I'm on uiv oath," was the reply. —Tit-
Bits. '
Doubtful.
Charlie —Yes, Miss Brightly,
Is costs me SIO,OOO a year to live.
Miss Brightly—Or, (Mr. Bragg! do yon
think it's worth it?—N. Y. Truth.
Jant the Girl lie Wanted.
He —Can you cook?
8he — I'm sorry to say that I can't*
He—Will you be *ny wife?—N. T.
Journal.
An Eye to Economy.
■Mr. Trivvet —Why did your wife get
a wheel; she was so much opposed to
bicycling last year?
Mr. Dicer —She found a bicycle belt
on the street, and her econonicel in
stinct would not permit her to let it
go to waste.—-N. Y. Journal.
A Toilet Secret.
Minnie—Nellie is a regular genius.
She puts her frizzes up in. tin foil off
champagne corks.
Madge—And why oil champagne
corks?
Minnie —Because it make* 'em tight.
—Judge.
The rhaaleslsg.
"Kiss thou the rod." Pruo said to m«.
With meek Intent I bent the knee:
But. 10. my ht»ad begun to whirl—
I missed the rod and kissed the girl.
—Detroit Free Frees.
IIIS EXCUSE.
]iy 111»—I ' little
poem; the only one 1 ever wrote.
Editor—Then I haven't the heart tt
tako it from you.—Up-to-Date.
Wonder If Tbla la Set
Tls said that blondes are ulw*f®
In * hurry to be wedded;
I'erhaps the reason la because
They're naturally Ught-haeAeC.
—Chicago News.
Comforting.
Ethel—l do so love to hear you play
the piano.
Maude—Oh, do you?
Ethel —Yes; it always makes me
think my playlng's not so bad after
all. —Town Topics.
Her View of It.
"She has gHinrd some rather unpless
ant notoriety, hasn't she?"
"Oh, I don't think she regards any no
toriety as unpleasant."—DotroltNews.
A Desirable Extreme.
"My wife was speechless with rage
when I got home last night,"
"Jiuiiuiny! 1 wish mine would get
as mad aa that."—Chicago Journal.
Quite Natural.
Cholly—Why do you keep youh eyea
fixed on vacancy?
Chappy—Aw, I was thinking, you
know, deah bo.vl —Yellow Book.
Make the Dnat.
"Say, pa, what kind of pans do miners
use when panning gold?"
"P*st puna, my son."—Puck.