VOL* xxxv
HUSELTON'S
YOUR SPRING ;
FOOTWEAR. |
Wil 1 play no small part in edging distinctive elegance to your new gown,
stylish crstunies, the choicfrst'of new spring, lia's and al' « '.ce counts for
naught in abaeuc of correct and perfect fiainj? footwear. There's much .
in our shoe store to "enlist llie interest cf every Woman, Man or Child who .
appreciate faultless slices.
WE SET THE PACE IN STYLES.
vr - i Our Misses'and Children's De
* * v iS» J partment.
i ' Is full of everything that's good in f< t
-1 4 ' j wear for the little folks, forge sal s daily
i ;' i / I speak for quality here. Misses' Tan
iMW ! and Black Kid Shoes, lace »r button, j
■ UCTffSgN ' I ati.-l Kid or SUK Vesting tops, spring
: Iv.VWS? heels, sizes it,';, to 2, I.CO to ?-'.oo. !
Children's Tan or «!act Spring lie 1
Shoes, lace or 1 ution, sizes B*i to n,
——i- 6oc to ri ,25; sizes 6 to S, 40c to $1 00.
,\ ' ® br a * e )r ' Shoes For,
The choice of fastidious dressers who
, . are posted ou the swagger styles. Every
=—S=JT.<KS shoe shows the master touch of well
K <.:■ / stndird, artistic individual style, all
a V fashionable styles in late and button, in
ii,.,. v,„ ct,/>cc CAP P-V/C • Black. Tan or Chocolate vici Kid, made
NCW 1 fill OIIGGJ 10. tfO)S. i with all Kill <>r fancy figured vesting
We are showing every new shape anil I s j 2es anf j widths,
color that's good in Boys at si.oo, $125, ,
fr 50, and $2.00. Youtns at les.-* price. I _ _
—OUR LITTLE REGENT SHOES— j
FOR LITTLE BOYS—A reduced copy fyjgp'g jsjgyy SDriflQ StIOSS IH Tan
of the kind his bigger brother wears,
same swell styles ana shapes at 90c. sl. 311(1 BiSCk.
ind $1.25.
Style and Price are The Strong
Points of This Store. and Ru;sia Calf. Vici Kid with si.k
vesting or leather tops at si. 50, }2. 00,
A regular $2.50, and *4-quality s^f^to"h"
Our i e ineat°Ssc, *'■«>'. >i.*s and ti.so i" S 00 ' *' -25, ?I ' s °' " 2
cannot be matched in Butler. * 2 '5° a » '
Men's Heavv Shoes, Oil Grain, Kip, Flesh Split. Kangaroo, Calf, Lace
Bals, Breedtnore, Congress at 75c, SI.OO, $1.25 and $1.50.
B. C. HU3FLTON,
Butler's Leading Shoe House. Opposite Hotel Lowry.
j HE IS A WISE HAN j
<| —WHO SECURES HIS CLOTHING FROM— |
S J. S.YOUNG, 1
t THE MERCHANT TAILOR, #
!TIIC jfooils, stj'le, lit ami gfcneral make 4 '
«i|» of llis suits 5 »
TELL their own STORY. 5 J
Spring STYLES
jyt! '
>1"?' G?V 0 T, 'rn i f Ui ifl foi Sprin-. twi.of a Uinri fcr
S-> S?.f <•«» Bummer what i.ettn hand would :i man want
*Y. x 3 In :.in;r. They are all of :i ktn.l IN STYI.K
' 1 . /, A tl ,i » in rut ami workmanship tin- Hi,est
' A / t\ in ' uralillltv'the staum-h.- -t. in pri ,-,. „,, ls
•• •• 'z,\ I J \J\ / i ft modrratr. \\ Inrr rl s , -ran you pi surh rori
' / N \ F/ /J la ' nor u- l'-KKtK. thr
' / NJ_ •Vj/ / W pi I'ii.i'. ,} v }l»W assoiliviriit of sjiiln.
J r> . %~v/ V, £1 7 ■ .. s :, V 1 s paltf-nis .Hill prlivs to suit.
Jrj), ) /iV K3 y' 1 *; 1 call und (.'.xitmiucour larirc
' ' C/ yju S'prli'K tfrod . Ki nn nilu rt he plarr,
ii\ "Ir wl Q - R KECK
II I |f (i ■ MERCHANT TAILOR. 142 North
Main St.. Butler, Pa.
328 S. MAIN ST- 328 S. MAIN ST
MILLINERY
Most complete stock, finest goods,'newest styles arnt lowest
prices in Millinery, Notions pud perfumess-
THE H. H. CORBET A SPECIALTY.
SEE OUR NEW SPRING HATS.
Mary Rockenstein.
Pape sros,
JEWEbeRS.
We Will Save You Money On
; Silverware, 1847 Rodger Bros. \
S Plateware and Sterling Silver^
< Goods,
Our Repair Department takes in all Clocks
and Jewelry, etc
122 S. Main St.
Old gold and silver taken the same as cash i
House Cleaning
+ime >s nvre and the War against Bugs, Moths etc., is on. We have prepared :
•Bu- Killer for the extermination of these pests, let us suggest that if this he '
mtxetl with the paste before paperin K the result will he very satisfactory. We are ,
also headquarters for Moth Balls, Insect powder, Hellihore etc. j
REDICK & GROHMAN
i j
109 NORTH MALY ST. J>UTLER.j
■u
fci _ « -w- -* W~ *T ' tar "W* & y "*s %r H 9 M' W A T
* /J] K i3U 1 jLiiil. CJ 11/KN.
Constipation
Caus" ■ MUy lis If the sickness in f.bs worl.L It
r.-t'ift tl.e digpst. d foot! too long in the boweL"
uk) ,iiVi.;ao<.b biliousness, torpid liver, inlt
Hood's
f-uon, t'.'.'l l-i.su-. coated M|| ■ 9 B
t sick h- a lie, in- -E * A
1 allS
it:-- cot ttpat indall its :
ti - Its easily and tlioroughly. ise. All ilrupK-s'.!.
• r ..l cl. I loci & Co., Lowell. Mast |
V- ;ul--- to taice vitli barsaparill>
Tliili 18 Your Opportunity.
On receipt of t< n cents, O;.Kli or stamps,
a cenerou- s::inp!c \\ill he mailed ot t.'ie
most popular Catarrh and Hay lever Cure [
(Ely's Cream Balm Rnfficiont to deuicn- !
strate the great merits of the remedy.
ELY BIiOTHEBS,
56 Warren ht. New York City, j
Her. .Tolin Reid. Jr.. of Gr. at Falls, Mont., |
recommended Ely's Cream lla.'nt to me. I ;
cau emphasize his statement, "It is a posi.
tive cure for catarrh if used as directed." —
Rev. Francis W. Poole. Pastor CentralPrcs.
Church, Helena; Mt-ni.
Ely's Cream Balm is tho acknowledged :
cure for catarrh and con tarns 110 mercury
nor any injuriot.3 tlrujj. Price, 50 cents.
VICTORy
AI •• ays crowns our efforts to |
secure 1 lie handsomest ; lid .
nit st correct tiling in Men's
Dress at all season's of the
year.
There's a frcsli, bright
sparkle of style about our
spring patterns, the kind
that has snap and art in it.
We cater to the economical
man because our clothes r
j;ivc"a.dollar of service for
every dollar paid.
Let us sho-v j-ou the kind of
a suit we make for
$25.
ALAND,
MAKER OF
MEN'S CLOTHES
Pearson B. Nace's
Livery Feed and Sale Stable
Rear of
Wick House, Butler, Penn'a.
The lu st of horses and first class al
iay on band and for hire.
:ice<iinrnoUui.:uns io loorn for perma
nent Imardinp: and transient trade. Speci
al care guaranteed.
Stable Room For 65 Horses.
A el as.- c,i horses, both drivers and
draft ulways "n hand and fur
under a full guarantee: and horses Ijou,- it
ispon proper notilieation t»j'
Qf-ftt»gnp| p MiPC
Telephone, Nt>. ''la
L. C. WICK,
DKAI.ICR IN
Rough c Worked Lumber
OF ALL KINDS.
Doors, Sash, Blinds, Mouldings,
Shinglc.s and Lath
Always in Stock,
LIME. HUR AND PIASTER
Office opposite P. &_\V. J Uepot.
BUTLER, PA,
D. L. CLEELAND, S
\ Jeweler and Optician, >
Butler, Pa. )>
C. SELIGMAN & SON.
2J a il°RS~
No. 416 W. Jefferson St.,
Butler, Pa.
A line of latest l-'un-ijii
and Domestic Suitings
always in stock.
Fit. Style and Work
manship guaranteed
to give satisfaction.
PRICES REASONABLE.
yj!'4l IS TH£ TIME TO HAVE
SiU79 Your Ciotliii^ci
CLEANED or D\ED
If you want goou and reliable
cleaning or dyeing done, there is i
just one place in town where you
cau get it, ar.d that is at
II! 8li!K8 01! WW
216 (Jenter avenue,
do fine work in out
door Photographs. This is the ;
time of year to have a picture ot :
your house. Give us a trial.
Ajrent for tbe .Jamestown Sliding
Bliud L'o.—New York.
&. FISHER & SON,
I
OIL MEAL i
.>ovv \• ry clioap. a
Peed for Hiir-.es. Cows, sheep, liogs, I'owis .
Otc. ll*'Ultn, stn nptli ;in<l pro<ia<Mi\. power J
U> anliuJiU. \ri- you feeding it? Cheapest 5
ieeu In tlie market.
LINSEED OIL AXI> WHITE I.EAD
years on l.ouse. I.arn iirVein^Ml u
are donlitful .inality: some g.,,,.1 and some
very IKICI. >Vntofur our circular. L
i'or pure Linseed oil or meal, and white ,
lead, ask for " I liompsnn's," nr addi. 1
manufacturer. I'lloMt'SUN &<) " •"* \\
Diamond street Allegheny, i'a. ' a
t
M. A. BERKIMER,
Funeral Director. 1
337 S. Main St., Butler, j \
jousi fHe Bapf isi
| 1
1 By ward Rles j
COP V RIGHT ED BY THE C. P. A.
KIGHT6 RESEHVEO.
[COXTIVCED.]
XXI.
COM COYNE ABANDONS HIS AR
TILLERY.
Miss Stell.' sat there in the welcome
Slow of the sun. inhaling the pure
'resh air with a great physical delight
while the soft morning zephyr gently
fanned and refreshed her like a potent
ilixir.
What a restful rest it was! What a
delight; what a glorious, satisfying
repose! There seemed to be nothing
; n the world left to be wished for— if
ihe could sit there forever, motionless,
absorbing light and air and sunshine
and re3t!
Far down within the lost, unmoved
iepths of her tranquil mind there was
i. faint, unrealized inclination to think
jf something outside of herself, and be
(tond tlie moment, in some direction;
jut to do so involved an exertion which
she lacked the desire to make. To
think would be to invite fatigue and
»he felt so weak that she wished only
:o rest forever, with her mind as blank
and still as the placid bosom of an un
:roubled pool.
The lapse of time was ustioted and
:he protracted absence of the Prophet
was unnoticed.
"Hullo!"
She looked around and saw Tom
Coyne with his elongated artillery on
ais shoulder. His presence did not
surprise her; she was not interested in
ais presence or in his errand c: a:
.hing beyond her own restful rest.
She knew that Tom Coyice was beside
aer but that Pact was all that she ex
»rted herself to comprehend.
"Good morning, Tom."
"Thunder! Jerusalem crickets! Stell
Senith! Where'd you come from?"
She was so thin and wasted and pale
'.hat he had not recognized her till she
spoke. In startled surprise he relaxed
his grasp upon his gain, which fell with
a loud rattle and clangor upon the
stones. She was not interested in Tom
ar his artillery, but she was too indo
lent to be actively uncivil, so she an
swered:
"I came from Barton; from the Let
sons!"
"But that was ever so long ago!
You've been lost an' given up for good
an' all this long time!"
"Have I?"
"Of course you have! Don't you
tcnow you have?"
"No."
"You didn't s'pose they knowed
where you was?"
"I had not thought about it at all."
"Hadn't thought about the folks all
the time you've been gone?" Tom was
indignant.
"Have I been gone long? I hadn't
noticed. You haven't grown tip yet!"
"See here, Stell Zenith! What ails
you? You look like a biled ghost got
cold!"
"I guess I have been sick."
"Why in thunder doa't you go home
when j our pa an' ma an' Carrie an' all
US Vlazy *afi' dj!!<! RB3WT JuJl! • ***■
gone an' lost? Why don't you go home
I say?"
Hi 3 energy aroused her dormant
mind all at once. A great longing to
be at home with her parents and sis
ters surged over her soul and she
cried:
"Oh, Tom! Take me home? I can't
walk; can't you take me home, Tom
dear
"Golly, I wish I could carry you; but
I can't! Can't you lean on me an'
walk?''
"No, no; I can't walk; I can't stand
jp. Oh, Tom, take me home? Do take
me home? Please, Tom?"
She wept and Tom was in great dis
tress and began to cry also.
"Say, Stell, how 'd you git here?" -
"The Prophet carried me." '
"Tlie old thief! I'll shoot a pound o*
shot into him! The old abduction!"
"No, no, Tom' He is kind and good
and if it hadn't been for him I would
have died on the hillside yonder. He
carried me up here and has taken care
af me when I was so sick that I was
:razy and helpless for I don't know
how long. Has it been a year, Tom?"
"All the same he shall carry you
home right now or I will shoot that
pound of shot into him anyway for not
tellln' us? Where is the old gibber
gosher?" m
"He is inside. Oh, do run in and ash
him to carry me home. I will die if 1
have to stay here another night."
Tom went into the hut; thpugh the
first room, through the second; intc
the third. There he saw the Prophet
kneeling before the altar. Both hands
rested, palms down, upon the ope_i
Bible; the face was upturned and the
light fell full upon it.
Tom stopped suddenly and sat down
in reverent silence to await the conclu
sion of the prayer.. It appeared tc
Tom to become entirely too long for a
reasonable prayer and he ventured tc
signal his presence by a cough which
was unnoticed by the worshipper. Al
length the boy's impatience overcame
both his awe of the Prophet and his
reverence for the Prophet's devotions
and he timidly exclaimed:
"Amen!"
There was no effect and after a while
he ventix-ed again, louder and with
boldness:
"Amen, amen!"
Still tfcere was no effect, and after a
time that Tom thought very long he
got up and noisily moved a stool; then
he tried coughing roughly two or three
times. Still the worshipper remaineo
undisturbed.
"Say!"
There was no response and Tom be
came desperate:
"Lookee here. John the Baptist, i
want you to carry Stell Zenith homer
As he made the announcement ha
stood ready to retreat and fall back up
>n his artillery; but there was no dem
snstration on the part of the Prophet
ind Tom walked close to his side and
;azed down upon him. Only for an
nstant; then with ghastly face he
rushed out to Miss Stella and in a voice
.rembling and husky from fright,
:ried:
"Oh. Stell! He Is dead!"
She sank back against the hut and
silently wept in his memory, for she
lelt now how kind and unselfish and
devoted and tender he had been to her
and she loved him for his goodness.
His death was a poignant grief to her
ind she wept long in silence. Tom sat
an a great stone iu awe, sympathy and
silence. Finally Miss Stella, still weep
ing, said:
"Tom, will you go home and send
alter me?"
"Of course! Why didn't I think ol
that before! Jimminy crickets! Won't
I raise the town!"
At her words he sprang to his feet
and before his own were fully uttered
he started down the hill at a wild gait.
She called him back and remonstrated:
"No, no, Tom! That won't do! Gc
to Bell Morton and tell her. Tell her
to get a carriage and come with you;
don't tell another living soul! The
folks at home must have some warn
ing and Bell will know what to do."
"aW ritht! I wou'i ueaeli! Now Stell
BUTLER PA..THUKSDAV,
i don't y<get soared or lonesome. It'll
j take a i-oaple of hours to git there an' '
; back; but I'll run every inch of the
\v .y, au' I won't iet Dell Moi >.ou waste
j a minnit, you bet; b L 1 don't h;iose |
she'i; wamtta! Nw don't you to afraid ;
Mebbe Mollie Zenith will find out boys
is good for soiuethln' on earth after j
all!"
! Forgetful of hib precious antique ar
! tillerv Tom da>hed away down th A hill
at his best speed. Miss Stella kept
eyes on him as he dropped lower and •
I lower, till he disappeared entirely.
XXII.
I MISS STELLA ACCOMPLISHES HE3 j
JOURNEY.
I Once more Miss Stella leaned back
and enjoyed the serenity of the morn
ing with its soft sunshine, its gentle
breezes, its caressing zephyrs, and the
chirrup and twitter of happy birds.
Now she wondered why she had neg
lected to learn from Tom Coyne just I
how long she had been away and what j
had transpired among her friends in i
I the interim. Tom had spoken of her j
disappearance as a thing of long ago.
She grew anxious to get home. She I
was overwrought with anxiety to re
turn. She looked forward to the two
or three hours that must elapse before
her rescue with depression; it would
be so long; so long! It was horrible |
to be there alone! The birds made her j
more lonesome; so did the breeze by |
the way in which it set the bushes to
trembling! Everything made her lone
ly. How dreadful it was to l;e thera !
w:th not a living fellow creature with
in call!
Then she thought of the dead with
in! Now she could recall as one re
calls a dream, how he had taken care
of her. She remembered how she had
depended upon him; how faithful he
was. She recalled his constancy, his
care, his kindness of heart, his gentle
ness, the sweetness of disposition that
mr.de the uncouth old man a tender,
tireless and watchful nurse. She
thought of him with affection and wept
again.
There was no violence to her grief;
she was too weak for violent emotion
She was only lonely and worn out;
worn out physically and men'ally. Yet
this calm morning administered a
halm, the balm of nature, which
brought quiet and rest strangely con
tradicting her sorrows; and in some
incomprehensible way it sent a thrill
of peace and content and gladness
through her soul.
She was annoyed by her inability to
make a satisfactory guess at the time
of day. She was unable to measure
the growth of time; she could not tally
the treading minutes as they passed
Sometimes she Imagined that Ton;
Coyne had been gone long enough tc
have made the round trip many times;
then she would invent causes of do
lay and grow fearful that they would
postpone her rescue until the next
day. Again she would convince her
self that Tom had not yet had time
to reach Minersvale.
Confidently, hopefully, doubtfully
despairingly by turns, she watched foi
the coming of her friends. She always
looked in the direction t>ke:i by Tore
Coyne who had gone as the bee flie*
regardless of roads with their wind
ings and turnings and deviations.
While Miss Stella kept watch down
the hill toward her right, the party 3fce
watched for approached from the road
which lay quite in the other direction
She did not think of their cominf
from thence until Bell Morton rushed
upon her like a whirlwind of affec
tion.
"Oh, Stella, Stella, Stella! Dear!"
"Bell!"
That was all that was said. They
clung to each other and wept in theii
gladness. Miss Morton hovering and
'lettering over her friend like a 1110 he
t- UUU Mil ill Jfctja ita>
while Miss Stella clung to her in satlS"-** 1
fled silence, supremely content in hei
presence.
Miss Morton and the astonishec
driver —who had not been informed cj
! the object of their drive —assisted Miss
Stella to the carriage, which could no',
be brought quite up to the hut, and
j they immediately started for home.
011 the way they met the "dead wa
gon" and the coroner and his jury go
> ing after the body of the Prophet, foi
Tom had thoughtfully told the official
I that he had found the dead Prophet
1 while hunting rabbits, not hinting at
his more startling discovery. The
coroner took his jury out to view the
scene, intending to hear Tom's testi
mony on their return to town.
During the ride homeward Miss Stel
1 la related her strange story as far as
she knew the details. From Miss Mor-
I ton she learned of the loug search bj
I the people t.nd the longer search bj
:ho adjutant; of the despair of hei
i friends; of their vain surmises; of the
rumors of her discovery all over the
country; of Captain Zenith's trip tc
Mew York; of the confessions of Mollie
! ind Miss Letson; Anally of the death 01
lope and of the reluctant abandon
'itent of the search.
"Where is the adjutant now?"
"At Camp Cook, just below Scran
•.on."
"Tell the driver to go to the tele
graph office."
"For what?"
"I want to telegraph to the adju
tant."
Her wish was oVeyed and at the tel
egraph office Tom ran in and procured
1 telegraph blank upon which Miss
Stella wrote:
"I want to see you," and after ad
iressing it, signed it simply "Stella,"
ind Tom took it in, paying for its
ransmission with money from Miss
Vlortou's purse. Miss Morton wanted
:o send a long message but Miss Stel
la insisted that explanations could
iwait a meeting.
When they were near the Zenith
residence Miss Morton stopped the
carriage and got out, saying:
"Wait here until I return; I will go
aefore and announce your coming; do
aot be impatient; do not get excited
when you see the folks at home; re
member, control yourself and take
;are, dear, for you are weak."
Having delivered her cautionary ad
monition she walked to Miss Stella's
home. Captain Zenith was sitting by
an open window with a newspaper in
his hand. Walking as if it was her
purpose to go beyond, Miss Morton,
after passing the gate a step or two,
said:
"Good morning Captain Zenith! How
are you to-day? Well, I hope?"
"Good morning Bell! Yes, pretty
well, thank you. Will you come in?"
"Have you any news from Stella?"
"Ah, no, and dear child, we never
shall have news of her."
"Oh, it won't do to give up; we must
always hope for news of her; doubtless
she will come home all right some
day."
"Bell, Bell! Girl! You have heard
from her! Have you not heard from
j her?"
1 "I really believe that I have heard
j from her; and if I have she is all right
and quite safe."
"My daughter! My dear daughter!
j Where is my poor child. Bell? For
God's sake don't torture me? Don't
keep me waiting? Where is she? Tell
me?"
He had come out through the open
window and now stood by her side,
with his hand laid appealingly on her
shoulder.
"I will tell you where she is and will
take you to her when you are suffi
ciently calm to approach her without
excitement. She has been very sick ;
and must not be agitated."
"I will not excite her; I will restrain
j myself; take me to her?"
"Not yet; the family, too, must be '!
i prepared. Where is Carrie?"
j "In the house; I will call her."
' "If you please; it will be better."
Going to the window Captain Zenith 1
railed within:
"Carrie can you ion.-; here a mo- 1
ment? Miss Morton wi. !:es to see you '
and she cannot come in?"
Miss Cr rle < ->nv. ov '.ml Mis- Mor
i ton said:
"Carrie, dear, wa have found Stella
; she has been very sick and is now
. :onvalescent; she can be brought home j
■ ;o-day; very shortly; but she must be :
' received quietly and without excite
ment. Will you prepare your moth
-9r and sisters while the Captuin and 1
' aring her? You must hurry—and take
: :are."
"I will take care, only, be quick;
| :lo not keep us waiting; she shall not
1 be excited."
Miss Carrie returned to the house
to make the gladdening announcement
and Miss Morton, taking Captain Ze
nith's arm said:
"Let us go to Stella.''
She did not proceed directly to the
carriage, but went the longer way,
! around the block. As they approached
i the carriage she explained;
"Stella is close to your house: I have ;
taken you out of tho way in order tc
, give Carrie mere time. Remember,
you must restrain yourself when you
see Stella."
"I will remember."
.The driver seeing them approach 1
moved up at the most leisurely pace
!of his horseo. When the pedes
j trians were opposite the carriage Miss
I Morton, turned and said quietly:
"Stell, dear, here is your father."
Captain Zenith entered the carriage
! and as he did so Tom Coyne, with his
long gun leaped out at the opposite
ioor. shouting:
"Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!"
Tom placed the butt of the piece
between his knees and with both eager
hands cocked the \-capon; then, aim- j
ing at a little cloud high above the ho- j
rizon, he cried:
"Hooray! Hoo —"
He had pulled the trigger; there was I
1 sputter of fire, a flash of flame from j
he pan, a preliminary hiss of the prim
ing, then a dreadful rolling roar like j
1 clap of thunder, a trembling of the j
»arth, a rattle of recoiling artillery up
-311 the pavement and Tom was seen j
lying prostrate half way across the
street.
Every resident in the vicinity was
at once upon the street and Tom who 1
was up in an instant recovered his gun 1
md went to the carriage, saying:
"Stell, they don't any ov 'em make
:he noise over findin' you that I do! Je
rusalem crickets! Don't the old thing
roar! And oh, Jimminy! Don't she
kick!"
Tom's exuberant nature effectively
irmored Miss Stella against dancer
!rom excitement. Captain Zenith fold
ed her to his heart.
"My child! Thank God we have you
again! You are safe!"
"I am safe! and, oh, Pa, so glad to be
with you again! Take me home."
At the gate Miss Carie was waiting.
She clasped her returning sister to her
arms, tears. of rapture rushing over
aer cheeks, soft, cooing exclamations
af affection flowing from her lips be
iween kisses.
Half way to the house they were met
jy the other members of the" family,
»ach one greeting her with great joy,
yet without demonstration of excite
ment.
XXIII.
TOM COYNE IS MADE HAPPY.
The next day the mortal remnant of
;he Prophet was buried. All the peo
ple of Minersvale and everybody from
he country roundabout joined the fu
aeral procession; for all had known
fjim and the story of his kindness to
Miss Stella was upon every tongue.
Miss Morton speut the day with her
riend.
Nothing had been heard from f
Mfss Stell* had asked Mm t
jutxio .Uii in- J> i.J not come 1 '
"was nearly two days ago and he bad
not even answered. She had been so
confluent that upon receipt of her mes
sage, day or night, he would hasten to
her side as fast as his speediest horse
could carry him. His silence troubled
her, palpably to the detriment of her
health. She did not doubt his con
stancy but feared for his person.
There was no telling what had befallen
him.
After discussing the matter with Miss
Morton she telegraphed to Lieutenant
Doyle inquiring for the adjutant. That
message, too, remained unanswered.
The next day, however, came a mes
sage from the adjutant:
"Have been absent; Doyle with me.
This moment returned and for first
time in four days see newspaper.
Found your telegrams awaiting us.
Last train gone till afternoon; I come
in saddle forthwith. God be praised
for your safety."
In less than two hours after the re
ceipt of the dispatch the adjutant gal
loped up to the gate and Miss Stella
was standing there to welcome him.
There, at the gate, in the sight of all
who chose to see she "paralyzed pro
priety," as she afterwards declared,
by throwing her arms about his neck
and kissing him over and over and
over.
Together the lovers entered the
house and went into the drawing room
whence the assembled family had wit
nessed the scene at the gate. Standing
just within the threshold of the room,
Miss Stella's arm drawn within his
own, the adjutant said:
"Miss Stella and I will be married '
this evening; we would rather be mar
ried here, at her home, in the presence j
of her parents and sisters in a quiet .
and proper way, than elsewhere or oth- (
erwise. Shall the ceremony take place (
here or somewhere else? It is for you
to determine; but it must be deter- '
mine at this moment."
"It shall be here, of course!" said |
Captain Zenith.
Miss Zenith left the room so quietly
that no one observed her going. After
all the others had submitted their con
gratulations and while the prepara- '
tions for the ceremony were under
discussion Miss Lettie missed her eld
est sister and went to her room Where ,
she found her, her face burled in the
pillows, sobbing.
Miss Lettie threw herself upon the
bed beside her sister and drawing her '
arms gently about her, said:
"I am so sorry! My heart bleeds for
you, Mollie, my poor, poor, dear sis- '
ter!"
"Never mind! May God bless them!
They will be happy for she loves him '
and he will always be kind. He
would never have loved me, even if he .
had not met her. I would not let him 1
even suspect now how I love him and '
I must cure my heart. She knows it; I '
could not hide from her what I could *
not make him see! Oh, Lettie, I wish I *
were dead."
"Hush, dear! Hush, darling! Don't!
It's wicked!"
The wedding took place in the draw-
ing room at 8 o'clock, in the presence -
of the family, Miss Morton, Colonel 1
Monies and his partner, Lewis Pugh.
Tom Coyne's greatest ambition was e
realized and his happiness was perfect-
ed within a week after the wedding, 1
when the adjutant gave him a hand-
some liammerless breech loading shot
gun and he became the envied of all
Minersvale boys.
Last week I was at the wedding of 1
the adjutant's youngest daughter and 1
he put his arm about his handsome
wife and said:
"In 1803 I spent ten weeks at the a
Zenith and stole away a star to shine *
tor me throughout the night of life,"
and his wife boxed his ears and said: 1
"Nonsense! I caught you with the a
smallest of nets; my veil!"
r 1 ►
[THE B.ND.j g
f
Study «f Art for Girls.
"I wish I could make my girls' un- a
deistand." writes Ruth Ashmore, ad- I j
dressing "The Girl Who Aspires to | v
Art" in the Ladies.' Home Journal,
"t t while each on-e should aspire to
the best work, that girl is foolish who
having been once made conscious of
her mistake, persists In offering
u diocre wo: k that deserves no recog
nition whatever. If you feel th. " you
have the artistic instinct and the love
for color, then se-">k for yourself a
gt-od art school, and fled out in what
branch of work your ability lies; you
will then b: : . ;re art to attain the
position you long for than if you are
content with self-culture. It is a
practical Impossibility for you to teach
>ourself. If you have foolishly bc-
Lelieved all the praise that has been
s; \ cr you then be sure you will never
eeed. You will be wasting your
n. ney in going to any school. Put
A your pretty head gome of the
silly fancies that are there. The girl
who learns to draw a good wall-paper
1 ;ign, who teams how to combine
.ul - so that a rich-looking rug is J
the result, who understands how to
embellish a book with a suitable covei j
— eh i is the girl who can be called an 1
mist. She does not a.sk the world to
look upon her from a sentimental j
point of view, because she has claims |
to listinction and can demand recog
nition."
t •> Your
A youns lady who always does
everything nicely said recently: "What ;
a high-bred, look
there is about an envelope that is |
properly prepared for the malls. A I
little thing, of course, but one of the |
little things which tell. The hand- i
writing? No, the handwriting doesn't
stand for much, because each individ- 1
1 ual has his own specinl chirographv, j
;nd it is more characteristic that she
should, But the writing on a well
j looking envelope is begun far enough
|to the left to be well balanced. The :
I last word is r.nt squeezed and cram
| med. The addresa. with the name of
| state and city, is written in full. The
-tamps are evenly placed in the upper
right-hand corner, with a slight mar
sin left betwe-en the top of the en
velope and the edge of the stamp. The
flap, too, of the weillbred envelope :3
mucilaged down in a cleanly, orderly
manner. It is oftun rendered modish
with sealing wtx and the sender's mon
ogram."
RAFFLED HIS GIRLS.
JOVEL SCHEME Or A FINLAND FARM
ER IN WISCONSIN.
io Tvsw Dfspt'rjitoly iii and to 00l
Out He Conduct Bd a Lottery wltli
Tliree Daughters for the Prist©*—'The
Draw ing an AmufTng ne.
The Finnish settlement, a few miles
south of Maple, Wis., has been in a
state of great excitement over a re
markable succession of events, 'luere
ire about two hundred residents in the
settlement —all farmers, thrifty and
nearly all in comfortable circumstan
ces. There is a large surplus of un
married young men In the community
and a scarcity of marriageable young
women, so that every female old
enough to be courted receives the at
tentions of from one to a dozen rival
lovers. A widower named Ilanes Dorf
kie is one of the settlers, and has been
living, since the death of his wife. w r ith
three pretty daughters in a little log
house somewhat removed from the
main settlement. Lately Dori'kie met
with a number of reverses which crip
pled him financially, so that while his
neighbors saw plenty on hand the old
man saw starvation looking into the
faces of himseif and three daughters ■
Something must be done and the wary
old Finlander set to thinking out a
scheme for replenishing his depleted
exchequer.
old man, Dorfkie. held a confer
-ith bis three dau(t^ T "rs, and un
tulucu ww r'"" roaking
money. He proposed at first to have
an auction, and to sell them, one by
one, to the highest bidde>. but the
young women shrank from such a bar
borous suggestion, though they signi
fied their willinKiiess to acquiesce in
any legitimate scheme of money mak
ing that the father might devise. At
last the old gent thought it might be
a good scheme to have a raffle, and so
informed the three dutiful young wo
men.
So it was whispered about the neigh
borhood that Farmer Dorfkte" had de
cided to raffle off his daughters, and
the day later the whisperings were
confirmed, for Mr. Dorfkie himself ap
peared among the people with a bas
ketful of pasteboard cards, upon each
of which the information was con
tained that the holder thereof was en
titled to one chance on one. or another
jf the three maidens fair. The tickets
went like hot cakes at $1 apiece, and
within a few days the loving father
had exchanged his basketful of paste
boards for a like measure of shining
silver and gold.
The day came for the great event
and the schoolhouse was packed to
the outer door with men, women and
children. Two hundred and fifty tick
ets upon each girl had been
sold, and the arrangements was
that each prize should be dis
posed of separately under the aus
pices of a committee selected out of
the audience. Tickets numbered to
correspond with those sold were placed
in one box and another box contained
249 blanks and one number marked
"Prize." 'two young girls were then
selected to preside over the boxes, and
the drawing commenced, the tickets
being removed from both boxes simul
taneously until the lucky number drew
the prize. For half an hour the audi
ence sat in suspense, while the two
girls slowly withdrew the numbers
and compared them, under the vigilant
eyes of the committeemen, but at last
the number 115 was responded to by
the exclamation "Prize!" and the f.rst
raffle was over. Then followed a wild
skirmish for the holder of tho lucky
ticket, and when found he was carried
to the front over the heads of the good
natured crowd. The holder of the
winning ticket proved to be a thrifty
young man of the settlement, who had
long sought for the hand of the eld
est daughter, Hulda, whose husband he
was now to become.
Next came the raffle for the second
daughter, a rosy-cheeked lass of twen
ty-two summers. This time the win
ning ticket was held by one of the
richest men in the town, but unfortu
nately, ho was a married man with a
large family. This caused a long delay j
in the proceedings, during which the
entire audience entered into a heated j
discussion as to what disposition |
should be made of the ticket, but it j
was finally agreed that the lucky num- |
ber should besold at auction then and
there. This was done, and, after con- j
alderable bidding. Miss Minnie, the sec- i
ond daughter, became the prospective j
bride of a middle-aged widower, who ;
paid ?50 for the prize.
Then came the raffle for the young- j
est daughter, and things were pro
gressing smoothly enough, when an er- I
ror was discovered which caused a )
bitter altercation between two ticket
holders, and came near precipitating t
a free-for-all fight among the specta
tors. Througii carelessness the win
ning number had been duplicated, and
there were two claimants for the hand
of daughter No. 3. At length a gen
eral row was averted, however, by the |
adoption of a happy suggestion. The
two claimants resorted to a game of
"freeze out" for a determination of ths
matter, and for two hours they sat at
a card table, surrounded by an excitod
crowd of friends, manipulating the
pasteboards for a bride. Slowly the
stack of chips in front of the unlucky
player dwindled to a paltry few, and
at last his opponent swept the board
and the game was decided In favor of
A young man named Gustav Johnson,
who labors by the day on the farm ol '
his ftuliti".
True to their promise* the thre«
laughter* allowed themselves to bf
ied to the altar by the three lucky
*• itinera.
A I iiiijue I*o»torttee.
A curious poatofflce. the smallest
nmplest and best-protected postofflce
in the world Is in the Straits of Mag
;llau. nnd has been there for many
years. It consists of a small painted
keg or cask, and is chained to th«
rocks of the extreme Cape in
a manner so thai it floats free, oppo
site Terra del Fuego. Each passing
jhip sends a boat to take letters out
uirt put others in. This curious post
iffhe is unprovided with a postmaster,
md la, therefore, under the protection
jf all the navies of the world. Never
in the history of the unique "ottice'
aave its privileges been abused.—Nor
nal Instructor.
;AN BE CUT LIKE CHEESE.
tiii« L> the Nature cf the liuil<ling Stone
I'fteil in lieiuiutla.
Nature has mad® it easy to build !
douses in Bermuda. The entire group I
j if islands is made up of coral rock, I
j so that every man can have a quarry 1
j 'n his back yard if he cares to dig j
leep enough. This stone when first
nit is soft and white, po that it "cuts
ike cheese," like the wood of the
famous "onc-hoss shay," and can be
got out in square blocks with an ordi
l nary handsaw. On exposure to the
' lir, however, it soon becomes dark and
! hard enough to break the teeth out of
i he saw that cuts It so easily from its
bed.
As there is no lumber in Bermuda
that which is brought from
Canada at considerable expense, stone
Is used for nearly the entire house.
I The walls are laid of blocks about
j ?ight inches by six, and two feet in
length. Window sills and door Jambs
ire also sawed out of stone in the prop
er shape, and even the rocf is covered
vvith stone shlnglw. which are made
by simply setting a block of soft, fresh
?tone on edge and sawing It into thin
slabs. Both roof aad walls have to be
kept whitewashed, or the stone would
crumble away. ha:d as it finally be
comes; but with this precaution it
lasts a long time. There is an old
coral-stone house on Harrington
Sound which is considerably over two
hundred years old.
Coral islands are formed by the
coral polyps, or insects, which build
up reefs to about the level of the sea
and then die. On the rough surface
~>t these reefs seaweed clings. The
wind and the wav<*» work together tc
grind up their su'-atance and pile It
in heaps of sand, which finally solidi
fies into the rock lrhich can be cut so
ensily.
The freshly broken stone makes ad
mirable road mate: ial. Even the rub
ber tire of a bicycl i will crush a piece
of it fl?.t, and the rain soon solidifies
it in that shape, so that the whole
roadbed, new stono and old together,
becomes like a smooth track cut in
solid rock.—Philadelphia Times.
Race for L.IIV In a Tunnel.
The story of an unhappy bridegroom,
whose hair grew white in a single
morning, and that the morning of his
marriage, is reported from Zigrad in
Hungary.
Mitru Popa, born in Teregova, son
of a small farmer, and affianced to a
daughter of a prosperous citizen of Zi
grad, recently started for Zigrad, there
to wed and bring home his bride. The
place can be reached in two hours by
the mountain road. There was, how
ever, a short cut; it led through the
railway tunnel with a single line of
rail. Popa laid ear to the ground and
listened. As there was not the slight
est vibration, he took courage and
ventured into the dark passage. Here,
tho report goes on. he had been stumb
ling "along as bext he couid, wh»n,
after ten minutes jossed in the total
darkness, and being, as he Judged,
near the center of the tunnel, he heard
the distant rumbling of an approach
ing train.
The noise grew louder behind him
and Topa ran; louder still, and Popa
raced. It was a via dolorosa, with
the small point of daylight far off
amid the darkness, and if he could win
It then it meant life, safety and bride,
but the thunder of the train grew
ever nearer. Fortunately the gradient
was a steep one, and the express was
called express by courtesy only, and
tho race between the man and death
terminated at the tunnel's outlet, the
man winning by about his own
length.
The mercifully sluggish "schnell
eug" passed into the daylight as the
bridegroom fell prostrate on the bank.
When he had started he had dark
brown hair; when he arrived at the
bride's house it was as white as the
bride's veil. The lady, however, ac
cepted him on the somewhat dubious
grounds "that the hair would come all
right In time, and that the injury was
jovered by insurance."
Dangerr* to Life in India*
India is the only country that makes
deaths by the attacks of serpents and
tvlld beasts a feature of its annual sta
tistics. That it has good reason for
doing so is shown by the Impressive
Qgures of last yeax's mortality—l,l33
deaths from snake bites and 291 peo
ple killed by tigers and other wild ani
mals. Although India is one of the
most densely populated countries on
the globe, tbt> increase of human in
habitants does not have the effect of
Secreasing the number of wild beasts,
as it does elsewhere, because the re
ligion of the natives —or a great pro
portion of them—forbids them to take
the life, even of dangerous beasts and
serpents; hence they let thes? destroy
ers thrive and multiply in the midst
of their communities. One of the
best works of the British in India Is
their reduction of the number of wild
beasts, and especially tigers, as a re
sult of their passion for hunting big
Same. —Philadelphia Ledger.
"One Lump or Two 1"
There is such a thing as fashion,
even in the simple matter of taking
sugar. A few years ago all the people
who had no very strong feelings of
their own on the matter took their
tea without sugar. It was the correct
thing to say "No" when you were of
fered sugar; now the fashion has
changed , and the people who have no
opinion of their cwn on the mattei
all take sugar with their tea.
Climbed Mt. Green.
Professor Fay, of Tuft's College, ha*
piloted a party of enthusiastic Appa
lachians to the top of Mt. Greene, 1e
he Canadian Rockies—a peak hitherto
jonsldered inaccessible. This Is the
mountain which stretches across the
2nd of the valley at the head of Lake
Louise, and is thi most impressive
mountain in the view from the chalet
of the Canadian Pacific railway.
The Latljr From Albany.
A party of Buffalo people, who went
to Niagara Falls the other day, made
'the acquaintance while there of an Al
bany woman who had been around and
taken In the various views of the great
spectacle. She thought it was Just
splendid, but, she asked, lunooently,
"Do they turn It Jtf In lit* winter
time?"—BuCalo OJiamarcial.
sUocLluklt Practical.
"Miss Wigglesworth thinks she's
eligible to the Order of the Crown.
She's sure she can trace her lineage
back to one of the English sovereigns."
'"How far has she got?"
"She told me yesterday she had
struck a bar sinister."
"I guess that's right. I knew her j
treat grandfather was a bartender." 11
No. 19
STRICT 30ARDING SCHOOL.
Three Caller* r. VrP.r nt Twenty Min
ute* ■> ( nil for Girl Studentn.
The young ladies of the normal
ecli d 1 i.i Vi' ua were lately thrown
into a flurry of excitement, says the St.
Paul (Minn.) Dispatch. They were
cn'lotl into ont of the recitation-rooms
and i it through a rigid examination
about tlie number of callers each had
nnd a sonption of each caller. They
were told that it was highly improper
to receive a caller from out of the city,
ar.d that many of the young men of the
city were not proper persons with
whom to Associate.
It was also considered highly Im
proper to receive n call which was ot
more than 20 minutes' duration. In all
<>rer a dozen questions were required t®
be answered, all of which were in regard
to the subject of gentlemen callers.
A number of rules were given to the
young iadies, which they were told they
must obey. Among them \tas one for
bidding the same young men to call •
! upon tliern more than three times a
1 year, and then the call must be purely
formal nnd not exceed 15 or 20 minutes.
The young ladies were also requested
to furnish a list of their callers and
their characters, and ns to the general
subjects of conversation when calling
or riding, and if the landlady where
they boarded approved of the young
men.
Some of the young ladies are indig
nant, arid say they will not submit to
such rules, while others believe they are
nil right, and propose to follow them.
IN THE NATURAL GAS DISTRICT.
A Very lunttractlve Place Where
Mnny Accidents Occur.
Passing through a gas-belt one will
see near the roadside, in a farm lot, a
mud-bespattered, weather-beaten der
rick, with the apparently rickety ac
companiment of crude appliances made
familiar years ago in the oil regions—
a small reversing engine, a rusty loco
motive boiler, usually without a stack
nnd leaking nt every seam; the pon
derous wooden walking beam slowly
oscillating night and day, stopping only
to {rive place to the use of the bull wheel
when the drill is raised and the sand
pump is lowered, or a newly-dressed bit
is put in service. Crude as the rig and
all Its details may seem at first glance,
every part is soon seen to have its use,
nnd the journey ot" the bit from the
surface to the unknown, and perhaps
barren, depths, is always accompanied
by interesting nnd ever-varying devel
opments. says Cassier's Magazine.
At night the measured beat and clat
ter of the rig In the dim light of a few
flickering torches of gas. piped from
some neighboring well; the trembling
derrick, its lofty top lost in the dark
ness; the driller carefully manipulat
ing the temper screw after each stroke,
controlling the bit nt the end of a rope
perhaps half a mile below the surface,
all form a weird sight. Accidents are
frequent, nnd the slightst carelessness
may result in dropping the tools, the
recovery of which requires patience
and often great ingenuity.
A FIGHTING DIET.
Bncli Is Sal«l to lie That of the Vege
tarian.
I regret to say that vegetarianism is
a fighting diet, writes G. B. Shaw in the
London Vegetarian. Ninety-nine per
cent, of the world's fighting has been
dono on farinaceous food. In Trafalgar
square I found it impossible to run
away as fast as the meat eaters did.
Panic is a carnivorous specialty. If the
army wore fed on a hardy, healthy,
fleshless diet we should hear no im.fe of
the disgust of our colored troops and of
the Afrldis and Fuzzywuzzles at the
cowardice of Tomm_v Atkins. lam my
self congenitally timid, but as a vege
tarian I can generally conceal my
tremors; whereas in my unregenerate
days, when I ate my fellow-creatures, I
.was as patient a coward ns Peter the
Great. The recent spread of fire-eating
fiction nnd Jingo war worship—a sort
of thing that only interests the pusil
lanimous—is due to the spread of meat
eating. Compare the Tipperary peasai-t
to the potatoes-and-buttermilk days
with the modern gentleman who gorges
himself with murdered cow. The Tip
perary man never rend bloody-minded
novels or cheered patriotic music hall
tableaus, but he fought recklessly and
wantonly. Your carnivorous gentle
man Is afraid of everything—including
doctors, dogs, disease, death and truth
telling.
ANCIENT GLOVES.
Made of Chicken Skin and Wora at
IVlßht in the Sixteenth Century.
The wearing of gloves is a more an
cient custom than it is generally
thought to be. Homer speaks of gloves
and tells of one who wore them to pro
tect his hands while working in his gar
den, says the New York Tribune. The
use of some coverings for the hands
was known to the ancient Persians and
Old Testament writers also mention
them. They were in such common use
among the Romans that they were worn
eicn in the wild country by the Britons.
St. Anne, the mother of tho Virgin
Mary, was, it lins been said, a knitter
nnd manufacturer of gloves, for which
reason the glove-makers of France long
ago made her their patron saint. At
one time gloves had a certain meaning
nttachcd to them, nnd were chosen to
show the character or occupation of tho
wearer. There are records of gloves
being ordered for "grave and spiritual
men." About this time, the sixteenth
century, jrlovcs mnde of chickens' skins
were used by both men and women for
whitening the hands and were worn nt
night.
Some Millionaire Statlntlca.
Berlin boasts of 2.003 millionaires,
reckoned on the basis of incomes that
would represent a capital of 1,000,000
marks—that is, $9,000 a year. Only
1,103 of these, however, aotually have
the $250,000 of capital; 7S have 5,000,000
marks or over, and only five have the
20,000,000 marks* that woi/d m\ke 'he: )
mi'lioi ire-' in £nf*and.
A Dlnnffrernble Neighbor.
Chinks —Have you got an agreeable
neighbor?
Hardup (sadly)—No; I'm next dool
to starvation!— London Fun.
I'Mleni to Him.
"Here's n valuable little book called
'Jtight Living,' " said the canvasser.
The man at the desk waved lilm
away.
"I'll have no use for it until I get out
of politics," he said.—Chicago Post.
A Chicago Society Event.
Mrs. Wabash —Mrs. Lakeside is going
to celebrate her golden wedding next
week.
Mrs. Manhattan —You don't say sol
Mrs. Wabash —Yes; she will then have
been married 30 times.—Town Topics.
What He Wan Abont.
Lawyer—l'm afraid you'll hare a
hard time proving- your innocence.
Bill the Burglar Well, dang itl
that's what I hired you fer.—Philadel
phia North American.
-rhonc Kxpenntve Lninrlei.
Van Wither —Don't you find keeping
up n yacht expensive, Von Miner?
Von Miner—Dh, no. I once kept up
a camera, you know.—Cincinnati Com*
mercial Tribune.