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