VOL.- xxxv i CLEARANCE SALE. Our new spring stock is arriving daily and we still have on hands many winter goods which must be closed out antl closed out quickly. So to make a long story | short the goods are youi s at less than one half their real value. In addition to our sale of winter shoes we will place on sale 1000 pair* Men's, Boys' and Youths' Sample Shots made of fine Russett Calf and Yici Kid in the litest styles which will be sold at a gTeat reduction. READ! -READ READ ****** a*** a*! ************>• % »**»%*****».** i Men's fine Ruessett Calf shoes (<• t i.25 Men's fine Russett Yici Kid shoes C< 1.45 Boys' fine Russett Calf shoes <5 1.00 Ladies' fine Dong. I land welt shoes (<• 2.15 Ladies' fine Dongola Flexible sole shoes <•• 1.00 Men's solid working shoes (•• 90 Boys solid working shoes <■• 50 Ladies' waterproof Kangaroo Calf shoes (« 90 Children's fine Dongola shoes, Infants'soft sole shoes (<i 20 And many other bargains. Just Recived a Big Shipment of SOROSIS Shoes. The New Shoes for Women. . These are all new spring goo<U, on the latest style lasts, in.fine Ta-i-., I) i and Patent Leather, in Leather or Vesting tops. Very Swell are Sorosis. Daintily hed Are They Who Wear Them. REPAIRING ® PROMPTLY ® DONE JOHN BICKEL. 128 SOUTH MAIN STRKET BUTLER, PA. j HOSELTON'S SHOES We're ready with some special lints—the comfort-giving' sort that will afford you the needed protection. We'll sell them, too, with a slice of the original prices cut off; a big saving is what jou may expect. Every shoe from our regular stuck md fully 'juarantctd • The Best Shoes in Butler. SCHOOL | Vtn Boys HEAVY | "«= SHOES/ G iru. SHOES j Grow ,"eo P i. i FINE l K^ a "y , FELTS >, Men SHOES/ „ OVERS, Showing of Shoe Values!, That are bound to be the pride of th*; whole county. A cordial in vitation is extended to all to visit our store. You will be m ide wel come whether you buy or not. Glad to show what we have. Some little shoe venders think all they have to do is to get all the worthless trash they can, no matter what, so tin.y can fix a low price, then blow their little tin horn and the people will hurry to them by the hundreds They will find that a little later it will take a trumpet equal to Gabriel's to make the people hearken unto their lamentations. I lie people don't want to buy two pairs at once— one to go home with, another pair to come back with. B. C. HUSELTON S. Batw» ahnr Home. Opposite Hotel Lowry. ; MEIN,— - ; ; > Won't buy clothing for the purpose of sj>cnding money. They i > ■ desire to get the best possible results for the money expended. , I i Not cheap goods but goods as cheap as can IK- sold and made un | ► pro{>erly. Call and examine my larg<- stock of < ► ► SPRING SUITINGS. < ► ► Right tit) to date, the latest styles, shades and colors that could I I > lienought. Call and examine them. i i > Fits and Workmanship Guaranteed. { > : g. f. kgck, | r HE IS A WISE HAN | |> —WHO HECUftEM HIM CLOTHING FROM # J. S. YOUNG, | )| THE MERCHANT TAILOK, 4 4 The fundi) style* tit un<l general wire 4 11 up of bin suits i their own STORY | | Knowledge Concentrated ; boiled down, pressed to- I jf gether is what you get in ; /IV the New Werner Edition ! H C/A\ /rsu of the ENCYCLOPEDIA ; /3// l\V/W BRITANNICA. The facts contained therein are reli l|||k able, the statements author i vC yljy itative. The index which ' accompanies each set of | Npsl I enables you to find —\ the information you want j quickly, and you can rely | I upon it, for even the courts do not question its state- J ments. You can secure the entire set, complete in ; thirty superb octavo volumes, of the Encyclopedia Britannica 1 for One Dollar Cash | and the balance in small monthly payments. \ FOR SALE BY J. H. DOUGLASS, BUTLER PA Subscribe for the CITIZEN. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. Tonight If your liver is out of order, causing Biliousness, Sick Headache, Heart burn, or Constipation, take a dose of Hood's Pitts 1 On retiring, and tomorrow your di gestive organs will be regulate 1 and you will be bright, active and ready for anv kind of work. This has been the experience of others; it will be you re. HOOD'S PILLS are sold by all medicine dealers. 25 cts. Pianos. W R NEWTON, Representing The Chickering-Chase Bros. Co. Manufacturers ot .Grand and Upright Pianos AND | Farrand & Votey Organ Co.. Manufactures of Organs. j Can save you money in 'Jie purchase of a FIRST CLASS Instrument. Call and examine them at the ware room, 317 South Main St., Butler, Pa. I TERMS: —Cash or easy payments to suit purchaser YOUR SUIT lay seem dear at the sta't, and prove remarkably cheap befo.e you've worn it out. ; It's the long time satisfaction you get from it that decides ; the superiority of our make. It does pay to buy good 1 clothes. Our fall display is j of the kind yon would expect ' to find only in the larg-- cities. ALAND, ; MAKER OF MI-A S C.1.07 HES I affe' - 3 M& J,jl J,| +++ + + M 6 Unilei aiuuil After tliey hit him. It don't re quire any bricks to make you understand that it is money in your pocket in dea'ing with us. This comes from the fact that we sell only reliable goods at a low price, buying direct from the manufactures, saving the middle profit to you. Many bargains to offer now. Ed. Colbert, Fomerly Colbert & Dale. 242 S. Main St., Butler, Pa. Braun's Pharmacy, Cor. 6th St. and Duquesne Way. Pittsbuiy, Pa,, L, I). Telephone 2542. Wholesale and Retail. Importer and Jobber of Drills, Chemicals, Perfumes, Soaps, Biushes, ICtc. The only house west of New York carrying ;i full line ot Meyers' Grease, Paints and theatrical goods. Physicians' Prescriptions Compounded Day or by "Registered Pharmacists" only. Wholesale and retail dealer in Lubricating and lllumniating Oils, Capital Cylinder, Dynamo, Water White and Standard Gas lingine Oils. Gasolein, Ben zine, Paraffine Wax and Petrolatum. Address all in.iil orders to W. F. Braun. COCOA PURE! HEALTHFUL!! TWO SUNBEAMS. , 6trcight through a casement, open wide, A sunbeam found its way. And down upon the cottage floor A shaft of brightness lay. Sent from the gay, glad outer world, A messenger apart. It glorified the humble room. Ajid cheered the matron's heart. It coaaxed the little one from play. And mocked, with true delight. The vain attempts of baby hands To grasp the !ance of light. "Catch If you can," It seemed to say. "I'd willing captive be." Ar.d danced before the wondering eyes To the tune of baby glee Bright shone the little golden head As It flitt- J here and there. As though the sun itself had lent Of Its shining store a share. And mother caught her darling up. In the midst of his fruitless chase, And showered kisses, warm and soft, ! On the pretty baby face. "You cannot catch the sunshine, j Though you followed the wide world through; You're mother's little sunbeam, dear. And she has caught you. too! "Two sunbeams have I In my home; !Dark would It be, and drear, Without the bright rayon the floor. And the bright face shining here! "God owns the sunlight, but He gave This precious beam to mother Content am I to call one mine And entertain the other" Straight through the casement, open wide, The sunbeam crept away. And twilight shadows, stealing through. Foretold the end of day The outer world In darkt.tsa lay. But mother's heart was light. For a golden head ar.d a baby face Kept home forever bright. —Ella Randall, In Golden Days. -7-^—^ I; THE CALIPH'S CUP I | CF WATER % i'' « S By David Kerr | TpIIK sun was setting red and sullen ' | ly over a battlefield in western j Asia. upon which two great armies had [ en contending' since daybreak. Barely 15 vi ars had elapsed since the j dealli of .Mohammed, and already the j strong arms and sharp swords of his ' soldier disciples had spread the faith of i Islam through every land from Syria to Morocco, and now the turn of Persia had come at last. The native warriors fought as stout ly as men could do; but they were ' matched with men who had never met ! their equal in war. Caliph Omar, wiping his heated face with the sleeve of his robe, watched keenly the giving away, little by little, ! of the pointed Persian helmets before the white Arab turbans, and hurled up on tlie wavering enemy, just at the de cisive moment, the thousand picked men whom lie had hitherto hel<l ill re serve. "Figlit bravely, n>y sons!" was his last charge to them; "for God Ilimself fights for you. But should ye meet with a Persiau chief, wearing a lion-skin cloak and gold-inlaid helmet, whose name is Ilurmosan, the satrap (gov ernor) of Yezd, kill him not, but bring 'him to ine aJivei for men say lie is the bravest warrior in Persia, and I would fain see hirn with my own eyes." This sudden charge of fresh and vig orous troops upon men exhausted wi(h a long day of hard fighting was quite irresistible. Tlig Persians gave way on all sides; the sacred staiifJurd of the shah wtia trampled in the <iust and the few who still strove to hold their ground were overwhelmed by numbers. The whole field was In a whirl of flight and pursuit, and only In one spot, where a solitary clump of pal in trees broke tlio gray, unending level of the boundlesa plain, a clamor of shouts and clashing weapons showed that resistance had not yet wholly censed. Beneath those trees, with his back against the largest trunk, stood a tall, noble-looking inan, in the prime of life, -with large black eyes, which flashed aa fiercely as the sword that played like lightning amid the wild faces and UJSS <ing arms of his swarming enemies. More than one broken arrow head was sticking in his breast plate; the silver buckler on his left arm was hacked and dented, as if by the blows of a sledge hammer; hi* armor was dyed red with more than one wound. But he still held his ground unflinch ingly, striking right and left with the strength of a giant, and never once in vain. Bjjt such a fight was too unequal to last. The brave man's aim began to wax weary, liis strength to fail. Closer and closer to him gleamed the merciless spear he«/ls, and in another moment all w/>uld have been over, when sudden ly a powerful voice broke through the din of the fray: "Hold your hands, brothers I per chance this may be the man whom the commander of the faithful bade us spare 1" The Arabs made wuy for the new comer (who was no other than the cap tain of the caliph's guard), and he looked keenly at Uie hard-pressed man for the signs by which the famous satrap was to be distinguished. Hut he looked in vain. The stranger's cloak was gone, and his helmet so battered and stained that tho keenest eye could not have told the color of its metal. "Persian!" cried the. captain, at length, "iirt thou llarmosan, the satrap of Yezd? If so, otir swords have no edge against thee. If thou wilt but yield to the caliph's mercy." But the Persian answered only with ablow, which, had it hit its mark, would have ended the captain's wars once for all. A gigantic Ycmenee rushed for ward only to fall dead be neat not her of those Irresistible strokes; but now the Pcrslau'» sword snapped close to the hilt, and he was left defenseless. "We have him now!" shouted the cap tain. "Seize hirn and bind liim f i t!" Despite the stranger's tremendous BUTLER RA., THURSDAY, MARCH 9, struggles, he was overpowered by num bers, and securely bound. But to all the taunts of his captors he deigned not a word of reply, and maintained the same stern silence, even when he was dragged into the presence of the caliph himself. As he listened to the recital of his prisoner's exploits. Omar eyed him with a look of grim approval; and the cap tive, in his turn, surveyed with equal admiration this prince of the desert, who, master as he was, of nine powerful kingdoms, was sitting cross-legged up on the bare ground, in a rough cloak of camel's hair, and supping on a handful of dates and parched corn. "Knowest thou," said Omar, at length, with a stern look, "what fate awaits him who hath shed the blood of the faithful?" "I have fought for my country," an swered the prisoner. "I am in thy pow : er, and I ask no mercy. Let the fate that awaits me be what it may, it is all one | to me." Omar's eyes sparkled; for, brave as a lion himself, he loved nothing better , than a brave man, whether friend or foe. "Methinks there is but one man in Persian hosi who could speak to me so," cried Le. "Art thou Ilarmosan, the satrap of Yezd?" "I am," replied the Persian, drawing himself up proudly. "I would not tell my ngme in the battle, lest it should seem that I did so because thou hadst bidden thy men spare me; but it mat ters little who knows it now. lam nar mosan, the soldier of Persia, and thine enemy!" Even the fierce Arabs around him smiled approvingly at the fearless words, and more than one voice was heard to mutter: "This is a bold fellow, and worthy to be one of the faithful! Pity that he must die!" "Persian," said Omar, "I may not give thee thy life; but to show how the prophet's followers honor courage, any other request thou canst make is granted before it Is uttered!" "Give me a cup of water, then," an swered Ilarmosan; "for since this day's •fight began, my thirst hast not been quenched." Omar nodded, and a black slave brought forward a large silver cup, •filled to the brim with clear, sparkling water; but, instead of drinking, the prisoner held it doubtfully in his hand. "What now, friend?" cried the caliph, impatiently. "If thou fearest treach ery, be easy; for I pledge thee my word that none shall harm thee till thou hast drank that water." Quick as lightning, Ilarmosan dashed the cup to the ground and said, with a mocking smile: "Bid thy men, then, gather up that water from the sand; for, by thine own pledge ,1 am safe till I drink it!" There was a moment of amazed si lence, and then the outwitted Arabs rushed at him with a savage yell; but high above the uproar was heard the commanding voice of Omar: "A caliph's word is sacred, my chil dren. Bring the brave Persian another cup of water, and as I once bade him drink and die, so now I bid him drink and live."—Golden Days. Worked Vntll (he Lnnt. Ad anecdote of the late Pierre Puvis de Chavonnes, given on the authority of M. Octave Mirbeau, deserves to take a permanent place in the annals of painting. "Feeling himself very 111," says M. Mirbcau, "he sent for his med ical adviser. 'My dear friend,' said he, 'I want to know exactly how long I 1 11—.. ■» •• ../.lr.: rut' In flrflpr self, I have neglected my work. I want to complete my fresco before I. die. I ask you for the truth —the real' truth!' 'Eh bien!' gravely replied the dootor, 'you perhaps have eight more days to live.' The same day he went Jnlo his studio and commenced to work furiously. For a whole week he painted ten hours a day, only abandoning his canvas when with increasing weakness the brush fell trom his hand." —Studio. Utile Conr(enton. There is often something luminous about a child's definition. livery Amer ican will agree with the little lad la a board school In England who In an examination on Scripture subjects gave uu original answer to the question: "What can you tell me about Moses?" "Please, sir, he was a gentleman," re plied the little fellow. "A gentleman!" repeated tine In spector. "What do you mean by that?" "Please, sir, when the daughters ol Jethro went to the well to draw win ter, the shepherds came and drove Wiem away, and Moses helped the daughters of Jethro and said to the shepherds: 'Ladies first, please, gentlemen.'"— Youth's Companion. Our War l« «;«•( Alirnd. "Young man," said the l<*uf, r haired passenger to the stranger in the oppo site seat, who was ou very intimate terms with a pocket flask, "don't you know that if you persist In drinking you will never be able to get ahead in Ihe world?" • "I won't, eh?" replied the thirsty in dividual. "Well, old man, that's, where your trolley jumps the wire. You may be long on hair, but you're short on knowledge. Won't get 41 head, won't 1? Bet you a dollar to a stale dough nut I'll get a head by to-morrow morn ing bigger than a barrel."-'—Chicago l Dally News. Hut I'liee l« •!« T«». Mr*. Crimsonbeak I wonder where in the world the alarm clock has gone! I saw it 011 the mantel yesterday. Mr. Crimsonbeak —It was there yes terday, but I heard it going off this morning. "Well, I hope it hasn't gone where you told It to go."—Yonkers States man. He Wnaa'l I'repn red. "Would you advise me to take an ocean trip, doctor?" asl.ed tin invalid. "No," was the reply; "I think n series of mud baths would benefit you more." "But, doctor," said the sick man, lu tones that savored of ness and de- pair, "I can't afford to go into poli tics."—Chicago ltecord. Would Have to Unit. The billionaire's little son wept bit terly. "Why Is th.is?" asked the fond fa ther. "He wants the moon, sir," tin- nurse explained. "ile will have to wait until I ean get ill in the earth."—Cincinnati Enquirer. Hnnlr for Settlement. "That Harkilis will case which has hern 111 the courts for several yeurn will soon l»e settled now," said Lawyer Habeas. "Yes," assented Lawyer Corpus, "I understand the property Is alioul all gone."— Ohio State Journal. Ilurd to Mnke 11 t'liolee. "Young man," said the minister to the heedless sinner, ''have you evrr thought on your future life .' "Yes, a great deal, and, do you know, I cannot make up my mind between Porto Kico and the Philippines." Kan $ TIM BRANIGAN'S : l COURTSHIP I By B. W. Cbanuing j§ BRAXXIGAX carried ice for the Syl van Spring Ice company. He was n goodly young fellow, standing stST feet one in his stockings, with a countf-uance deeply bronzed by weather, out of which his wide blue eyes laughed unceasingly. His flannel shirt, open a little at the base of the strong, round throat, and 'his broad felt hat, indented with a ver tical "Denver poke," gave him a cow bow effect. He was perfectly cognizant of this, and traded on it with the maids at the vurious houses on his beat, before whom he swaggered not a little, drop ping hints of a western past, ttrewn with Indian scalps. "And was you ever there, now, Mr. Brannigan?" one of them once asked him, and he answered, ambiguously: "Aw, an' if I hadn't a-lteon, how would I get the wow nd on me crown?" "What wound on your crown? Go on!" "I'll show It ye if ye'll step over here." Urannigan bent his burnished curls, antl pretty N'orah stretched on tiptoe to meet them. But just as the two heads reached one level, the bero lifted his own quickly and kissed the fresh colored face that looked so intently at him. "Shure, the situation was that eon vaynient, I cudden't help it!" he urged, fleeing to the door with a smart cuff ringing In his ears. Hut he was to learn that there was a type of womanhood demanding more deferential approach. The first time he saw Alma was on a hot afternoon in Aug\ist, when she had just come down from Nova Scotia, and was feeling the* atmosphere of the South end oppressive. Her mother, who kept a boarding house, and had combined with that re sponsibility the care of a shiftless sec ond husband and his two small boys, had written to Halifax that Alma was needed. Alma was a slender, dark- "I AM NOT THAT KIND," BAID ALMA. haired girl, with a delicate complexion, and slim, ladylike hands. ISrannigan, swinging in witli his huge ice block, took a swift, appreciative swing VoVtforfVWttWtU! iff lu iU re " 'Tis a warm day!" "Dreadful!" said Alma, listlessly. "I didn't see you before?" "No. I've just come." "Ye'll not stay liere! the old can't kape no gyurl more than a week; 'tis a hole of a place!" "I'm Mrs. Brown's daughter, from Halifax." Brannigan went away at that, sud denly speechless. He saw her nearly every day after, but he did not seem to make much head way. A packet of chewing gum, which had appeared to him a graceful atten tion suitable from any gentleman U> any lady, was received with disappoint-, ing coldness. "It's very kind of you," she said, "but, I never use It. Mrs. Dalby, where I lived In Halifax, thought it was common." One day about a month after her ar rival, he found Alma alone In the kitchen- and marked with concern that her eyes were rid with crying. Now, Jtrannigan had a man's philosophy re garding tears. "Aren't ye well at all?" he asked, coming up beside her. "I'm all right!" said Alma, holding her head down, and plunging her thin little arms into a tub of soapsuds. The next moment she was startled and scandalized by the elasp of an arm about her waist, and the touch of a brown mustache on her cheek. "Ah, cheer up!" whispered lirauni-, gan, tenderly, "it don't sthorm ivery day!" lie stepped liack to avoid the expected slap; but the girl made no sort of dem-i oustration. Hhc simply stood there with a white face and looked unutterablore proach. Tactics of so novel a kind were dis composing. Hrantilgun's bronzed cheek flamed, and the laugh died out of lila eyes. "Say. I'm mighty sorry!" he mur mured; "I niver thought but yo'd like It! The gyurls mostly does, an''tis noi harm at all." "I'm not that kind," said Alma, sternly. "I'm mighty sorry," he repeated, and nt Alma showed no signs of relenting, went dejectedly to the doer. " 'Twas sweet, what I got of it," ho mused, "an* 'tis bad luck I'll get ho more. She's not the kind, it's true for her." The next few times that.he carried ico to the house he did not see Alma, ami when he did, on the fourth day, her manner was excessively dignified. Hut Brannigan was h<ard to snub. Instinct ively, he reconstructed his too florid vocabulary, and altered some of his ways. "She's worth tiukln' trouble for," he said to himself. Ills gentle persistence had Its reward, and after awhile they had become so far friend* that Itrannigan hazarded a new departure. "Ho you iver go out Sunday avenlnsV" he inquired one flue Saturday. "Sunday afternoons I do," Alina amended. " 'Tis great out In the park." "I've heard it wjis nice." "I'd 1m proud if ye'd ride out therft with me toinorry?" Alma's delicate color deepened. She gazed (lxedly at the handle of the door. "Let's say three o'clock." "I'm not through my work till four." It was the same thing as an assent. "I'll call for ye at four!" ile went off beaming, but her voice made him turn back In sudden panic. "Don't call for me," she said, In alow, hesitating tone; "3011 I'd rather you wouldn't. Maybe I'll tie at the corner at four." Th 6 ride out on the open car was very pleasant. Alma enjoyed every bit of it, though she asked herself frequently what was she about. Brnnnigan was not introspective; be sides, he knew what he was about per fectly. lie paid Alma's fares with an authority she dared neYt gainsay, and sat with his- arm ou the back ofThe seat behind her. * His heart swelled; he almost wished some man would do something for which he could knock him down. He. Lad the primitive instincts of the tribal lover; he wanted to show his strength to the woman he desired, and to have her know that strength would always 1 stand between her and danger. This feeling increased as time went on, and he saw more and more clearly that Alma was unhappy at home. Her eyes were often red. She complained of headache, and on being pressed con fessed that "the boys were tiresome." One afternoon a strange man came with the ice. "Tim Brannigan's hurt,", he ex plained. It appeared that Brannigan had been at a fire, and rushing out of the burning tenement with a forgotten j baby, had broken his leg. He was in the city hospital. The next day Alma dressed herself with care in the blue gown Brannigan liked, and the Sunday hat with Its soar ing plumes and outspreading ribbons, and started for the hospital. When Brannigan saw Alma enter the ward his face was irradiated with joy. j And yet, when she reached the bedside, I he was lying very still, with closed eyes j —or, with eyes that seemed to be closed, j "Ah. an' is it you?" he asked, faintly, . feigning a languid awakening. ""Pis good of ye to come, but I'm that wak? I can scarcely take it In!" "O, but you'll soon be better, Mr. j Brannigan!" she said, struggling not [ to cry. "Ah. an' do ve think so? - ' he asked, ' feebly. Alma looked down at his splendid j porportions in perfect seriousness. I "Do you feel pain anywhere?" she t a-skeel, fearfully. "Ahful, just here!" said Brannigan, | laying a muscular hand upon the car- | diac region. Not a muscle of her face changed, as hv saw through his half-shut eyes. A ripple of laughter parsed over him, and lie bit his lips under the long, tawny inustache. And while lie laughed, he could have fallen at her feet— she w-as so atlorablv innocent! Alma saw and wholly misinterpreted the tremor which shook him. "Are you cold?" slit inquired, anx iously. She knew that it was a bad sign to feel cold in serious Illness. "Froze out!" said Brannigan, in a choked voice, another and more violent tremor convulsing him. "Don't thev give you anything for a chill?" she asked. "They can't give me notliin'," he whispered, " 'twouldn't do no good!" Poor Alma began to cry. She did not know people never died of a broken leg; and with Brannigan's young strength and heultli it was inexplicable. But, ce*-:ainly, he was near his eiwl. Keek less of observation, she bent her face to his and kissed him. And then a strange* thing happeneel, for the helpless sufferer revived, rc turned her farewell salute with inter est, and held the girl close in a clasp of ustonishing vigor. "O, my! Mr. Brannigan, aren't you ashamed? And me thinking you that ill!" gasped Alma. "I niver told ye there was anything wrong will me arm*!" he cried. "An 1 {•■■jkrtt. .ilU.' .llillTl J-'m', tor n {us*. dcaH Alma, dariin', say yc'll go to pnwi wUI me when I'm out o' here! I've a tidy bit. in the bank, an' nirer a soul depending on me, an' I'd make ye so happy yc'd not know yerself—" He became aware of tlie ■everely-dis approvlug regard of a middle-age<} liursc on the other side of the bed, and let Alma go. Then ho winked with glu<4 effrontery at the Intruder. " "lis all right!" he assured her; "kissin' ain't agin the rules whin it's a man's own gyurl he's goln' to ninrry— is it, now ? An' ye're goin' to marry me the minute I'm out, aren'tye, Alma, me dear?" Alma was torn with a variety of emo tions; but she loved Urnnaiigan. "Yes," she said. —Boston Globe. Tin* (»<>od->ittuMan. Blessings on the heiwl of the good natured business man. lie does more good than a missionary. So many business men are cross and. unreason able that a good-natured one lias a start that is very valuable. —Atchison Globe. One Way of Hettlln*. "No more late hours, remember, Mr. Grimshaw," concluded theeminent spe riallst. "No more c.igars; no more small bottles." "H'mi" replied Griui»haw, In a non committal way. "Good-day, doctor. "Pardon me," aftid the physiciaq, niavely; "but the—ah- fee-for my ad- Wco Is ten dollars." "Very likely it is worth that amount, but as I have concluded not to take it, of course I owe you nothing." Aud fie departed, leaving the eminent spe cialist entirely without language ap propriate for the emergency. lllu strated American. Stanllink « »> 'or the Anluist. "Accordlug to th* wltnctJM'S," said t|»o polled jus' i\ "the num called jou vile names and yvu paid no attention jo him, but u ben he spoke to tin- mon key you picked up«i brick aud knocked nim down." "Ves«a," replied the org* in-grlnder. "lie tyll de monk It looka like me." — Chicago Tribune. iippoxcl In Eip«n»l«n. "Are you an expansionist, Mr. ScaAdsV" asked young Mr. llunker, who felt bound to talk to the old gen tleman while he waited for Mis»Scadd« to descend to the parlor. "No, I am an anti-expansionist," re plied Mr. Hcadds. "My family is quite as large now as I caru to have it." —De- troit I' rec Presa. Whr Wsstnl tin- !>»<*••. Old Mr. Cashly (to his private secre tary ) - Ho you want an advance in your salary, eh? Why, I'm sure I've always tried to be liberal with you. Mr. (J<»11- 1 know it, sir; but your daughter and 1 have agreed V" get mar ried, and I want to support her deoent ly.—Hurlem Life. "Did you ever iuive any trouble iy getting out of town?" asked the friend to whom Mr. .Stormington Ilarne* was relating his tlirat rie experience*. "None whatever," was the answer. "The towu* we played were mi small that all we liiad to do was to walk two or three blocks." Washington Star. 1.140t I*l leal. •The trouble 11Ji him," *>aiil the voting man who had bftii. trying to tit dmribc an arquaLntajiee, "l* ihut whin lu- (lipped into the hen of )iiiowlecljf*' he thought he brought up I mueh thai the blumed tiling went i ilrv M - Cbinuiro l\>»t. TOMMY SPINK'S EARS. Tommy Spink was a boy Who brought bushels of Joy- To the hearts IT. the sleepy old school. But 'twu set his flne looks Nor his liking for b^oks. For he stootj at the foot, as a rule. But Tommy was blest Above all of the rest Whom 1 k:.nv In those Jubilant years. For In some funny way. But Just how I can't say. He was able to wiggle his ears. The lazy old clock Would be dreaming, "tick-lock," And the room quite as still as a mouse. When some one of the crowd Would dare snicker out loud And arouse all the rest In the houss. Then the teacher's command Would be "Hold out your hand!" Ar.d some one would shed a few tear* And all Just because. Spurning Nature's 6et laws, Tommy Spink chose to wiggle his ears. His scalp, so he said. Was too big for his head And he rolled It about as he willed. While his ears, to and fro, So grotesquely would go. You would laugh though you knew you'd be killed. And to this very day. When my skies are a gray. There Is one recollection that cheers. As I think, with a smile. With what Innocent guile Tommy Spink used tu wiggle his ears. Oh, the years have been long Since I left the glad throng I lowd In those happier days; They have passed fromimy view All those friends whom I knew And are threading life's dtvlous ways. All Is fading, I find, I'et with pleasure my mind To that one youthful picture adheres. And from out the dim past I'll recall to the last How Tommy Spink wiggled his ears. —Nixon Waterman, in L. A. W. Bulletin. | For Nothing Per Cent. 1 ■MNMN Til JO house in which Mr. William Johnson carried on the business of money lender nntl financial agent was in no way different from those sur rounding it save that the downstairs front- window bore the legend "Loan Office" in large black letters on n white ground. A quiet, orderly, middle-aged man was Mr. Johnson, and people who met him in the street and did not know him would have taken him for anything rather than a man who put out his money to usury. Certainly there was nothing of the Sliylock about him as he sat one spring morning in his dingy office over a much thumbed account book. He was a tall, spare, loosely-built man, with a pale face and a thin, straggling crop of beard and whiskers that always looked aj> if it had grown in patches. Usually, .when he was not talking- to his clients, jhe carried a quill pen in his mouth; [there was something in this habit t-> at | gave him the appearance of an ab i stracted poodle carrying a stick. ; Mr. Johnson was deeply engrossed in J the i-onsideratioii of a certain entry in *1 is account book when the door of the loan office opened very suddenly and net the bell ringing with sharp dis sonance. lie heard a light step in. the little lobby, which was partitioned oil from the rest of the room. For a mo ment he did not answer the summonsof the bell—it was never wise to be in too much haste to welcome callers. But presently he rose and opened the door, the quill pen still retaining its hori zontal position in liis mouth, lie lifted his eyes carelessly from the little swing counter to the person who stood behind it. lie was not easily surprised, for he hail i many strange things in hi> Behind the little counter stood a young lady—nay a girl—of some 18 or "WHAT AMOUNT DO YOU WISH TO BORROW?" 11) years, fashionably dressed, evidently of good position and palpable refine ment. Her pretty, fresh face, revealing itself to Mr. Johnson's astonished eyes from beneath tho ravishments ol a much be II owe red picture hat, seemed strangely out of keeping with the dingy color of the little lobby. "Oh —er —yc are Mr. William John son.?" she said. "Yes." answered Mr. Johnson. "Von er. you —lend money, don't you V" "Yes," said Mr. Johnson again. "I—l want to borrow some money," she said, looking out of half-averted eyes at the money lender. "Jr. Johnson's first Impulse was to stretch out his hand for one of the ap plication forms which stood ready in a small box on the counter. Hut upon reflection lie lifted the swinging shelf and asked his new client to step Inside. When she had {Missed Into the office he closed the door and joined her and from sheer force of habit lie restored the quill pen to his mouth. The girl saw the resemblance to the abstrnetcd poodle, and a smile rippled over lier face. Mr. Johnson did not observe it t he indicated a ehalr at. the side of his desk and when the girl had taken it he resumed his own seat and looked at her. "What amount did you wish to bor row, ma'am V" said Mr. Johnson. "Oh—ah—well, £20." "Now —" said Mr. Joluison. "I sup pose you could furnish good security?" "I thought that you— it says iu your advertisement, you know, that you lend money on borrower's note of hand alone—l think that's how it's put. Isn't it? and no inquiries, and no securities —isn't that it?" "To approved borrower# — yes," »n --swered Mr. Johnson. "Ohl" said tiio girL "Oh I Than you—" "We don't lend money without se-. curlty," said Mr. Johnson. "Of conrse. if we know the party, and know that, it's all right and safe, why, of course, in that case—" "I see," said the girl." "Yes— of court-c, you don't know any thing about me. How f illy of me! I thought, one had Just to come and get the money and sign a paper or something." Th<- girl looked up from her parasol, with which she had been tracing lm- ]ni((crii» <>ii tliu floor. "IVilinps I\l belter tell you nil about _ it," ( lie mil]. <>f course, }'ou v.on't tell oujjHfityi Pitt >«•«»" No. lO "Never divulge professional secret*,''} said Mr. Johnson. "Well, I want to borrow £2O tobuyal I bicycle. There!" said the girl, with £ j decisive tap of the parasol upon tii« floor. "\ ou see, I've spent of iny quarter's allowance, ancf there* still a month before I've any more duflj and I simply must have that ami I looked overall the advertisement* about money, and I saw yours and so 1 came to you." "Might I inquire what name, ma'am?" suid Mr. Johnson. Oh. I iti Miss Lattijner—of course, you know my father—Mr. Robert Lat timcr?" "Certainly," replied Mr. Johnson, more astonished than ever. "I've no doubt that he'd buy you a bicycle now." "No, he won't. He thinks £BOO a yeur quite enough for a girl to spend. No, I shall have to buy my own bicycle." Mr. Johnson took the quill out of his mouth and scratched his head with the feathered end of it. "I m afraid your father wouldn't ap prove, ma'am —he began. "Oh, he's not to know, you know. This is a little deal just between you and me. After all, It's not getting things on credit, is it? Because the money will really be mine when you've lent it to me, won't it?" "Ye-es," answered Mr. Johnson. "Ye-es." "That's all right, then!" said Mis* Lattimer, triumphantly. "Well, have I got to wgn any papers or anything, Mr. Johnson?" "It is usual to make inquiries before completing." "Oh, but I've no time for inquiries!" exclaimed Miss Lattimer. "I've got to meet a friend at the cycle agent's In an hour. Oh—look here, I'll leave you my card, Mr. Johnson, iu case you want my address." Mr. Johnson looked at the piece of pasteboard and then at Miss Lattimer. Something impelled him to rise and un lock a safe, which stood in a corner of the office. He fumbled about and Anal ly produced four live-pound notes, new from Hie Bank of England. "Well, ma'am," said Mr. Johnson, "it isn't my usual way of doing business, but—" and there he paused, utterly un able to explain matters to himself. "When did you say you could pay it back, ma'am?" "Oh, on the first of July," replied Miss Lattiiner. "That's scarcely a month, is it?" "Then I may expect to see yqu on the first of July, ma'am," said Mr. Johnson, laying do\sn the notes. "Certainly you may!" exclaimed Mi«s Lattimer, delightedly. "Thanks, awful ly!" She stutTed the notes Into a gold mounted purse and smiled at Mr. John son with all the innocent pleasure of 4 child who has got what it wants. "But we haven't arranged anything —haven't I to sign a paper or anything?" "I think," said Mr. Johnson, alowly, "that we'll leave that o\er until you paJJ the money, ma'am. I'll only charge yott reasonable irrterest for such a short loan. Of course, ma'am,you'll not mention thW little transaction to anybody," tie a4a ed, anxiously. "We alway s "keep tre«i matters quiet—very quiet." "Oh, to be sure!" laughed the gtrL "Well, thanks, Mr. Johnson, and by—you'll see me on tho first of July dead certain, you know." On the first of July Mr. Johnson sat in his office in a state of nervous expeo tancy; but the nervousness had noth ing to do with the money which was dua from Miss Lattimer. All the morning he waited and all the afternoon and still she came not. And then as evening rjjrjj^n^a^ms^ianjbrough t a reg of violets. After a long time Mr. Johnson rose from his desk and locked up the note# ,in )iis safe. Then he«took the sovereign 4n his hand and went out into ta» street. He presently came to th« little shop of a working jeweler and entered it timidly. When he came out the sov ereign hung on his simple watch chain and his fingers f«lt for it and caret.«e(J it as if It had been a live thing. And that was the end. —Chicago Daily News. Oatnltte-d llta Slii»r|>-Ton»ued Wife. An Englishman of Lymlngton had the misfortune to live in a continuous quarrel with his wife, who wasa modern X.antippe, and threatened, in case she survived him, to dance over his grave, was her lot to outlive him, but it was not so easy to carry out her threat. The husband had the precaution to make an injunction in his will requir ing his body to be burled in the sea near his residence and without cere mony. The injunction was complied with. —Chicago Chronicle. RoantLed It Kafelf. Mre. G william* —1 heard you tell Mr. Sflin-t to come around at lunch, time downtown to-morrow and you would have a hot-scotch. What Is a hot-, ac-cHch, dear? Mr. Gwilllam* —Cooked oatmeal, my dear.—Chicago Tribune. Why He Was lUjrolrt, Young Poet—Why do you rcfufle n» for a son-in-law ? Is it because I lAok merit? Paterfamilias (old Journalistic baadl, —Oh, no; it is simply oi\ fic<?otyj.t <2 lack of space. We are really crowfle® for room hero now.—Tlt^DiVs- Too True. "J>e«ure«t." she rnurmured, "I'm BO afraid you U change." "Darling," he answered, "you'll never find an v change about me." Which waaDnlnfullv true in a doubla sense.—Cleveland Plain brtiler. I> nil nine. "8o aladl Why, what a beautiful drsMl And i bonnol from Tarts, too, my de4r. You're well? I sec your Wrinkles ar6 less By nany than whon you were h«r6 last year." —Jurtiro. A lV*«*eful flection. Missouri Traveler- This is a famous section for feuds, I understand? Native —No more peaceful |>arts any-! whore than right here. No feuds here. Everything's as pleasant- a* pie. "Hut how about the Hillington-Wel lingtou feud?" "Over long ago. I'm llillington." "Indeedl I haven't met any of the Wellington*." "No, nor you won't. The feud is over."—N. Y. Weekly. Tlir llemctlon. Hhe (who }i |i s Just sajd no) —I am sorry I cannot give you the answer you wanted, Mr. Bpooner, but it is for the best, believe me. Home day you will ask youVself what you ever saw in me to attract your fancy. He— l have no doubt I wilj, Miss PtJiarpe. My frlcndp huye asked me that question a hundred times since I began paying attentions io you.—Chi cago Tribune. An lSpt|<>A<s In hi* wlllltiK »tnis tho heiress ho triumph antly unromsd. Hut her i>a abruptly entered and hs loosed his clinging clump. Twas tlio *n<ltnK of tli« romance, but he haßn't y«t ceased toiling Of ths ijK-motabU time no bad a fortune
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers