VOL- xxxvii AfftE# I .inmrv Grand Clearance -Sale Of Summer Footwear At BICKEL S. Wc liavc commenced a grand cleat ance sale of all summer foot wear. We hive t)) many tai sho S and Oxford? and will not carry a pair over. Every piir must be closed out during this sa'e and will go during this sale .it away down prices. So look out for some great shoe b-irgai'is U Bickel's. Men's $.5.00 i n Shoes it $2.50 $4 00 I'.. .-IK-CS n $2.25 M ; $3.50 ••'1 • I Shoes $2.25 \f ~\s s•> 50 at $1.50 Li- lie * !•> le 'i.-et Shoes a: $2.00 Lou. We have unquestionably the most satisfactory Shoe Store in this city with prices on good shoes always lower than the accustomed. -- Women's Fine Shoes. Everybody Says Our crisp, snappy sty.'es will interest WE SELL THE BEST SHOES FOR women that want neat fitt : ng, com'ort- BOYS AND GIRLS, able up-to da*. J shoes. Weßhow them in , , New Cuban and Military h*els-2U Clever shoes for clever smallßoy*tand shapes from narrow opera with luht «*"*!«: » »>" h-ss nj,-to-dHt« than turned Holes to the extreme "mannish lam s and Mima h. Kid. kussia all hand welts in Kid Sk.n and Patent anr * * atenl Leathers. Leathers. Regent and Princeton Women's Oxfords. (SHOES FOR MEN $3.50 AND ft. oo I CAN ONLY BE BOUGHT HERE. /gy. There arn more "Kegeant and Prince /fv'*:. j ton" shoes trotting around than any \ rilVMritf " other brand. They are most numerous jf j i " "YUI I Lv% I because man feels most at home in 1 j | them. Best shoes in the world for £1.50 I ?»%, Queen IfegJ Quality ; rlen Oxfords. ft® Oxfords \ / / VrOBBBBaJ \ \ j Other Styles for Street, v . V J Dress, House, Outing. V-. •. There's a wonderful amount of com- fifty* :r - fort in a well-made properly fitted Ox- ''£>/* i ford comfort and stvle combined for 4p,/ the Oxford is the smart shoo of the J, season—this year and as usual the tfr*/ ' ' smartest and swellest shapes are here at HUSELTON'S. Look over the line of L Tan, Calf and Kid Oxfords. Goodyear • ' ~ welts at $2 -ind $2..>0 and the Patent ( Leathers at and and see if you ever saw the equal of them for the money. Other lines in low cut shoes „ , „ , at. r i«c, 75c, #1 and*!.' 2.-» M "' who never wore Oxfords are wearing them now Its going to be a WE SELL distinctly good Oxford seasrm and we've prepared accordingly on the right shapes 'HUPP M Hit A I ITY' in broad choice of leathers Tan, Patent YUMLi I I Leather, Ideal or Patent Kid and Vici. Prices ¥2 to *l. Men's Work Shoes at SHOES FOR WOMEN, $3.00- *'• *> «iand T . her . e „ iH r "' t another shoe in Butler Men DreSS Shoes, that will match our "Queen Quality'' 1 Shoes for Women within .V)c a pair. ; Swell dressy shoes in Sat'n Calf, Vici .tM- Tl" s - Fin ® Sh"e9| Kid. Wax Calf. Tan. Russia Calf splen i ft, »l. . , fci and V) Yon will didly made, exact duplicate of the *:s be surprised. Nothing m Butler ln-gins and *5.50 shoes. Price $!. $1 50, *2 and to equal them at these prices. ! $2.50. Huseltorj/s Sli Have made their way into the homes of the people. Von see them everywhere, on the farm, the shop, on the streets, in the trains. They do service of steady business, they take the summer outing,they travel all the states of our country anil many .are touring in foreign lands at all times— they are 011 the feet of the masses—and the classes and Never Disappoint —no matter where or when they arc wcrn. B. C. HUSELTON'S, ftutler's I.e.'idinn Shoe House. o duos lie Hotel Lorry. Spring SIYLES r, f luff Men don't buy clothing for the pur- L I II or spending money. They r ' I | j/y) fk\ 3;io get the best possible results for the f; A L £/X\\ "^C.notiey expended. Not cheap goods, ,-l J goods .is cli.- Ip ;is they can Ih Q 1 \ fCsold for and made up properly. Itrj ft™ 1 ' I "WCyou want the correct thing at the !ljk price, call and examine ouO«t \ fade!* Ii i CD'-rge st »ck of SPRINC. WlilOllTs - 7 P \ (3 I f ST STVLKS,' SH-vDHri Fi'ts and'WorkmanshiD* ' ill Guaranteed. G F. K^CK, 42 North Main Strast, Butler Pa subscribe for the CITIZfcN THE BUTLER CITIZEN. Audi'fors Report 1899 00 We, I lie ur.dersipno o" By am't pd J II Miller during the next 4 months lt! c ' -*•» By com of a per ct on 1572 07.. 7S lil si,, I*> Am't due District, Jan. 31, 'CO Penally of 5 per ct on SitaT 3s 11' "■ Am't due District Feb. 1. 'OO. 2t7a ' • lly am't paiil J 11 Miller since Feb. 1. I -fl «■> '» By com. of b per ct on iKr.' Kt... :it If ffi>. Balance due the District 17"2 12 J. Harvey Miller and S. M. McC'lure. Over-: seer-.. Dr. to amounts received as fo lows: John S Jack. Col. of Taxes. '9* * *"« « " ' Summit twp, l has Herman acc't. .. 17 4!> Washington Ip. '•»! Say A Mclntvre a • li 9fO i '99 Mclntvre acc't ii 7 i 4 Butler twp. Turk and Gold acc't . .. 6 I'enn twp. Gill acc't 70 ( entre twp. Oordon acc't "l~i lUtrWer lit v. K C Perry acc't.. 1< Jos Walker, Mrs. Geo Wick acc't. 4 ao Total « l ">* 0" Cr. By am't due JHMiller as shown iiy last Aud. Kpt. Mar 13, '99. ? 651 00 By orders redeemed as follows: Medical attendance liy the fol lowing named physicians: Dr. Samuel Graham Ml- Dr. ('has Ii B Hunt 35 Of. lir. Jos Forrester •-') Dr. KJ Grossnian K7 OO Dr. I.ysander Black '*> Dr. Samuel Buppus 54 1') Dr. G M Zimmerman 15 d.l I »r. Geo J l'eters 12 03 Dr. Mav Shryock 49 !5 Dr. W a Grossman 101 50 Dr. II I) liockenberry ' j)r. A M Xeyman 3*» ■ 1103^2 Funeral expenses: W I* Koessing 99 on M A Berkimer > 0o I.on McCuiiough SCO 112 W Maintenance, nursing, relief.etc (e\clusi\ e of medical atten dance, relief tickets, funeral .expenses, etc *O9 OS Drug account: C' N Boyd Ki 50 J F Baiph _2 : _> J I* Sutton 72 fti II lliiidman H 'A l - "' Gas account: Home Nat. Ga> Co '42 4s Independent Gas Co <•> <' K Anderson I- ' ' J Breuman 750 slil 73 Milk account lis 75 Shoe account: WF Met /gar 95 M Ai BulT & Sons 35 to John Bickel HI 35 BC Huselton 14 'a Kepairing 13 3. l*.*i 93 Bent account "19 (H Grocery account; A & II Iteiber 13# '0 Henry Miller 310 in Win k'irkpatrick 314 <■) A Iken Ac Campbell 8a ' F G llolman 257 40 0 Wilson Miller 227 ifl ti D Kamerer 13 49 OM I'lillllns 20 ('At Chris IHiic.iberger 51-2 J W Alton :SlO3 Victor Hayonett la 50 Jas VV right 1 ' A B Galiagan 17 O'.t A K Myers - 1 #4 Jacob I loos 1-0 o.< Graham Bros inlet W A Fisher <0 00 1!U,9 91 Flour account: 11 J Klingler&Co If- '■ l Geo Walter >t Sons (i 3 l*i 255 98 Clothing account: J N I'atterson 42 1 a Douthett & Graham 15 C 9 Til Burton 350 80 60 Coal account.'. "5 Transportation, &c 102 47 Printing 35 C) Court and J I' costs IN, 87 Hospital account: Western I'eun a (Dlxmont) 35: i 84 Butler Co. General ;><'f.O 84 Manorytlle (I'a) Overseers H9 2:.' Dry Goods ;u*count: A Troutman's Hons 77 II H w Koonce "I SH DA Heck 12. 11J 94 W 11 Bitter. Jr. clerical services.. 15 00 Oevrpaid tax account...... 254 19 Interest on warrants 84 40 Water account US 0; Borough Auditors 105(0 Geo K rug. meat account 246 CO Kuuimer Bros, meat account 10 00 J W Hutchison, an y ct ','7 Geo W Zelgler, Overseer 31 .9 Krulien McElvaln. Overseer ... 2.9 24 .1 II Miller, Overseer, 310 days at $1 50. 185 CO ox pimse acc't.. 42 07 S M Mc. lure,Overseer."'(s days at Total 4971* 80 Amount of credits given the Over seers in this as we'll as last Auditors Beport for warrants redeemed by is suing other warrantsln lieu thereo.'. said duplicate warrants remaining unpaid 1410 15 Total credits allowed. *3o* 45 B:.l In hands of Overseers, Mar 12. 'to 1850 21 SI9SH 88 FoPoul.ig is a list of Outstanding Warrants up i M.. h 12th, 19. I. not I icluili -g cer tain w;" anis un-nunoered, the amount of which it is Impossible for the Auoltors to exactly determine and t'efinitely report: Physicians. Dr. Samuel Graham C '7: i O.i l»r. Lys.-.nder lilac': 151 50 Dr. J. C. Boyle s2 D -. W. J. Grossman 34 c.) Dr. M Blppus '•'■I 1 1 Dr. I". J. Grossman :.7 15 D". May Hcliryo. k 20 00 Dr. N. M. Hoover 13 00 SM94 70 Fu ieral Expenses. M. A. Berkimer S 41 m W IV K'H-ss ng 110 50 I/m McCollougli 5 «.o Howard Prior 38 CO #l9l 30 .Maintenance. Nursing, Belief, tic.,.- .$312 07 Drug Account. C. N. Boy«' $lO ( I itedlck Grohman 28 00 J. I'. Button I hi A.C. Anderson 82 o gild 50 Gas Account. 1 ndependent Gas Co ■TJ 'Ai Home Natural Otfl Co » 57 132 07 Milk Account. J. A. F.lllott t 7 » D. F. Borland 17 50 A. D. shearer 14 07 I.G. Pollard 13 72 5M W Hhoc Account. O E. Mill-- T f AI ICulf A Hi)n ♦'» !) li. O. 11 us*-1 ton 'J M John lil<;lce r» 15 ObrU Hartoj t i" 1H 75 Kent Account. K. Andcrnon ( .0 !d< k ru:iri 27 Ki Anna Srhultz.. 12 OM •jri.' io Grocery Account. Henry Miller $1027 05 I». W. Miller UW 2! Wm K rk pat rick HKI 77 A. \ 11. Keltic r 470 «.i» Harper llros :J»i ,V» Granum Hron 100 W. A. Fisher HO on Jacob I loos 2 . 'J.» A. E. Myers 4;JO ** John G. Moore .... 10T> 00 J. W. Allen 10 00 4174 72 Flour Account. 11. J. KUoslcr A Co $ 07 .A George Walters & Hons r j) [Xhl 01 < A. Troutman Sous 10 ;ti) 11. W. Koonce. . L'o h;I John M. I'atterson. • I 'ji w ii. i» \ran % K 74 1(1 Coal Account 512 2C Court & J. I\ Costs. Isaac Meals, Clerk $ 5 00 <'. K. A inlcrson, .11* 10 TiO J aim Kelley. J. P 3 no BUTLER, THURSDAY, >JWXK 7, 1900 Kennedy Marshall, J. I' 11 Butter County General IlosptuU » ' Interest on \V:irr:utts 12 *1 .I. W. Hutchison. Attorney \M Meat Account. George Ivru•' Jl<> <«» >lrs. Jno Sutton. Mrs* Gwi \\ hlte Acc't Bell lien Mchivjiin. Overseer i« -J' J H Miller. - 0» Tota' »*l 1") Resources. Auiouut in hands of the Overseers.. .JI.KO 21 Amount 0 ] Amlnnt due from clarion <"o • 157 ■">- Amo.mt due from Mercer Co .VI 21 I A mount due from Cent; e twp 95 ! Total Resources 5400 08 We submit the foregoing financial statement, believing the same to lie as i near correct as we can come from the ! records kept and the evidence obtain i able, both of which are very inacurate j and unsatisfactory. We find that the grocers at different tinier hitVM turned over to the Overseers i warrants they have cashed as well as j tickets in lieu of warrants which re ul | I on their face given for tickets-: without ! noting the sauie on the warrants re ! deemed, or even endorsing the same, | and neither the grocers or the Overseers ! keeping any record of the tran-s ti on i : thus creating a duplication, t'ue amount i yt which we cannot exactly determine j or they recollect. We finil warrants that were given in lieu of other warrants still lying in the banks and drawing interest, while the original warrants thus redeemed have been presented to the Auditors in this as well as previous audits, and nothing appearing on thein or on the stubs to show that tliey were so redeem ed. They were accepted and the Over seers given credit as having redeemed them by payment. Thus showing the Borough indebted to the Overseers when in fact the Overseers ere indebted to the Borough, the amount of which cannot tie determined at this time. In onr opinion the Poor Funds are very injudiciously handled and the sys in use at the present time very bad on account of being too susceptable to abu ses and to misuses. We further lielieve the Borough of Butler, through its Overseers of the Poor have been imposed upon by Physi cians. because in the Judgement of the Auditors the money paid ont to Doctors for medicine and for medical attendance is far in excess of what it should Tie. The < tverseers having selected their physician should have very few or no bills to pay elsewhere. We condemn the method of furnish ing groceries by giving out tickets that are worth their face in wliomsoever's hands they may come, becanse much fraud may be committed by parties re ceiving tliese tickets whose names do not ajijiear on the overseer's books, and because the holders of these tickets are allowed to select useless articles or trade them off for mere* trifles. The grocer keeps no record of who receives the goods and we are left to mere conjec ture as to whom was aided. There l>eing no means by which we can arrive at an accurate list of depend ants and the amount received by each we have omitted that from this report. EDGAR H NEGLEY, 11. L. GRAHAM. JOHN R. lIENNINGER. Auditors. ?Be Honest! The country is Hooded with cata logues from firms who say they are Manufacturers offering Buggies, Harness, &c., at what they say is whole sale prices. Do you believe it? We will t tell you how to test it. Bring your cata logue along with you to our store and look over our Buggies and I lai ness and see if we cannot save you some money and if we can't do not deal with us, your money is yours and you have a right to use it to the best advantage to yourself. You should at least look around you before send ing your money away and ' if you can save money by buying here you certainly owe it to yourself to do so. Try it once. Bring • your catalogue along if you have one. You are welcome to make the com . parison whether you buy or not. S. B. Martincourt & Co., i 128 E. Jefferson St. S. B. MARTINCOURT. J. M. LEIGIINER. ' Now is The Time to Have Your Clothing CLEANED OR DYED. If you want goou and reliable > cleaning or dyeing done, there is just one place in town where you can get it, and that is at The Butler l)yc Works 216 Center avenue- Bft),„We do fine work in out ] door Photographs. This is the time of year to have a picture ot your house. Give us a trial. Agent for tbe Jamestown Sliding Blind Co.—New York. R. FISHER & SON . Good Fit and Work Gup'anteed. Karl Schluchter, " Practical Tailor and Cutter (i 125 W. Jefferson, Hutler, Pa. Busheling, Cleaning and Repairing a Specialty. , | Milk Cans | X \V<- make the strongest, 1, >1 jfheaviest and most service-J. fable milk cans made. \ ( C 5 gal. Cans $lB per doz. 11 , C Try Our Cans. / > K I. j. KING, X • Ipi STOW a I if EFM '1 8 i FAIR! I \.i A TALE OF LIFE IN THE v.'f \.V ★ BOER REPUBLIC. f-'i • nf; m#* % ? s? S> t Sr: • .v; Si • ?■»» • aV • *» s>%> t : Sr-fSfrt ws CHAPTER XIX A HOER WEDDIKO. "I didn't know before you yere so fond of riding hard," said Gregory to his little betrothed. They were cantering slowly on the road to Oom Muller's on the morning of the wedding. "Do you call this riding hard?" asked Em In some astonishment. "Of course I do. It's enough to break the horses' necUs aud knock one up for the whole day besides," he added testi ly. then twisted his to look at the buggy that came on behind. "I thought Waldo was such a mad driver. They are taking It easily enough today," said Gregory. "One would think the black stallions were Lime." "I suppose they want to keep out of the dust." said Em. "See; they stand still as soon as we do." Perceiving this to l>e the case, Greg ory rode ou. "It's all that horse of yours. She kicks uv such a confounded dust I can't stand It myself," he said. Meanwhile the cart came on slowly enough. "Take the reins," said Lyndall. "and make them walk. I want to rest and watch their hoofs today—not to be ex hllaiated. I am so tired." She leaned back in her corner, and Waldo drove on slowly in the gray dawn light along the level road. They pas-e.i the very milk l»ush behind which so many years before the old llciui.'iii I::, i found the Kaffir woman. But their thoughts were uot with him that morui'.:,: They wre the thoughts of the youi:„'. ih:it run out to meet the future and laimr i i the present At last he touched her arm. "What is it?" "I feaie«i you had gone to sleep aud might be j iltcd out." he said. "You sat so quietly." "No: do nut talk to me. 1 am not as.eep." But after a time she said sud denly. "It must lie a terrible thing to bring a human being into the world." Waldo looked round; she sat drawn Into the corner, her blue cloud wound tightly about her. and she st ill watch <•, l the horses' feet. Having no com ment to offer on her somewhat unex pected remark, he merely touched up his horses. "1 have no conscience, none," she added. "But I would not like to bring a soul into tills world. When It sinned and when It suffered, something like a dead hand would fall on me: 'You did it, you; for your own pleasure you cre ated this tiling! See your work!' If it lived to be 80, It would always hang like a millstone round my ueck, have the right to demand good from mo and curse me for its sorrow. A parent Is ouly like to God If his work turns out bad. so much the worse for him; -he dare not wash his bauds of it. Time and years can never brlug the day when you can say to your child, 'Soul, what have 1 to do with you?' " Waldo said dreamily: "It Is a marvelous thiuK that one soul should have power to cause another." She heard the words as she heard the beating of the horses' hoofs; her thoughts ran ou in their own line. "They say, 'God semis the little ba bies.' Of all the dastardly revolting lies men tell to suit themselves, I hato that most. I suppose my father said BO when he knew he was dying of con sumption. aud my mother when she knew she had nothing to support me on. and they created me to feed like a dog from stitiiiger hands. Men do not say (»od semis the books or the news paper articles or the machines they make, and then sigh and shrug their shoulders and say they can't help It. Why do they say so about other things? Llurs! 'God sends the little babies!'" She struck her foot fret fully against the splash board. "The small children say so earnestly. They touch the little stranger rover entl.v who lias Just come from God's far country, and they peep about the room to see if not one white feather has dropped from the wing of the an gel that brought him. On their Hps the phrase means much; on all others It is a deliberate lie. Noticeable, too," she said, dropping in an Instant from the passionate Into a low, mocking tone, "when people are married, though they should have 00 children, they throw the whole onus on God. When they are not, we hear nothing about God's having sent them. When there has been no legal contract between the parents, who sends the little children then? The devil, perhaps!" She laugh ed her little silvery, mocking laugh. "Odd that some men should come from hell and some from heaven and yet all look so much alike when they get here." Waldo wondered at her. He had not the key to her thoughts aud did not see the string on -vhlch they were strung She drew her cloud tighter al. jut her. "It must be very nice to believe In th»? devil," she said. "1 wish I did. If It would be of any use, i would pray three hours night and morning on my bare knees, 'God, let me believe In sat an.' lie Is so useful to those peo ple who do. They may be as selfish and as sensual as they please and, be tween God's will and the devil's ac tion, always have some one to throw their sin on. But we, wretched unbe lievers, we bear our own burdens. We must say: 'I myself did it, I. Not God, not satan; 1 myself!' That Is the sting that strikes deep. Waldo," she said gently, with a sudden and complete change of manner, "I like you so much 1 love you." She rested her cheek soft ly agaiust Ids shoulder. "When 1 am with you, 1 never know that I aiu a woman and you are a man. I only know that we are both things that think. Other men, when 1 am with them, whether 1 love them or not, they an- mere bodies to me, but you are k spirit. 1 like you. Look," she said quickly, sinking back Into her corner, "what a pretty plukness there Is on all the hilltops! The sun will rise in a moment." Waldo lifted Ids eyes to look round over the circle of golden hills, and the horses, as the Ilrst sunbeams touched them, shook their heads and champed their bright lilts till the brass settings In their harness glittered again. It was S o'clock when they neared the farmhouse, a red brl< - k building, with kraals to the right and a small orchard to tin? left. Already there were signs of unusual life and bustle. One carl, a wagon and a couple of saddles against the wall betokened the arrival of a few early guests, whose numbers would soon he largely Increased To a Hutch country wedding guests start uii In numbers astonishing to one who has merely ridden through the plains of sparsely Inhabited "karroo." As the morning advances riders on many shades of steeds appear from all directions aud add their saddles to the long rows against the walls, shake hands, drink coffee aud stand about outside in groups to watch the arriv ing carts and ox wagons as they are unburdened of their heavy freight of massive Tautes and comely daughters, followed by swarms of children of all sizes, dressed in all manner of print aud moleskin, who are taken care of by Hottentot, Kailir and half caste nurses, whose many shaded complex ions. ranging from light yellow up to ebony biaek. add variety to the ani mated scene. Everywhere are excite ment and bustle, which gradually in crease as the time for the return of the wedding party approaches. Prep arations for the feaiit are actively ad vancing In the kitchen; coffee is liber ally handed round, and amid a pro found sensation and the firing of guns the horse wagon draws up. and the wedding party alight. Bride and bride groom, with their attendants, march solemnly to the marriage chamber, where bed and box are decked out In white with ends of ribbon and artifi cial flowers and where on a row of chairs the party solemnly seat them selves. After a time bridesmaid and best man rise and conduct In with ceremony each individual guest to wish success aud to kiss bride and bride groom. Then the fenst is set on the table, and it Is almost suuset before the dishes are cleared away and the pleasure of the day begins. Everything Is removed from the great front room, and the mud floor, well rubbed with bullock's blood, glis tens like polished mahogany. The fe male portion of the assembly flock Into the side rooms to attire them selves for the evening aud reissue clad in white muslin and gay with bright ribbons and brass Jewelry. The danc ing begins as the first tallow candles are stuck up about the walls, the music coming from a couple of flddleps in a corner of the room. Bride and bride groom open the ball, and the floor Is soon covered with whirling couples, and every one's spirits rise. The bridal pair mingle freely In the tliroug, aud here and there a musical man slugs vig orously as he drags his partner through the "Blue Water" or "John Sperl wig," boys shout and applaud, and the enjoyment and confusion are Intense till 11 o'clock comes. By this time the children who swarm in the side rooms are not to be kept quiet longer, even by hunches of bread and cake. There Is a general howl aud wall that rises yet higher than the scraping of fiddles, aud mothers rush from their partners to knock small heads together and cuff little nursemaids aud force the wallers down luto unoccupied corners of beds, uuder tables and behind boxes. In half an hour every variety of childish snore is heard on all sides, and it has become perilous to raise or set down a foot In any of the side rooms lest a small head or hand should be crushed. Now, too, the busy feet have broken the solid coating of the lloor, and a cloud of fine dust arises that makes a yellow halo round the candles and sets asthmatic people coughing and grows denser till to recognize any one on the opposite side of the room becomes Im possible, and a partner's face Is seen through a yellow mist. At 12 o'clock the bride Is led to the marriage chamber and undressed. Tht» lights are blown out, aud the bride groom Is brought to the door by the best man, who gives him the key. Then the door is shut and locked, and the revels rise higher than ever. There is no thought of sleep till morning aud •no unoccupied spot where sleep may be found. It was at this stage of the proceed ings on the night of Taut' Sannle's wedding that Lyndall sat uear the doorway In one of the side rooms to watch the dancers as they appeared and disappeared in the yellow cloud of dust. Gregory sat moodily In u corner of the large dancing room. Ills llttlo betrothed touched his arm. "1 wish you would go and ask Lyn dall to dance with you," she said. "Mho must be so tired. She has sut still th® whole evening." "I have asked her three times," re plied her lover shortly. "I'm uot go ing to be her dog and creep to her feet. Just to give her the pleasure of kicking me not for you, Em, nor for anybody else." "Oil, 1 didn't know you had asked her, Greg," said his little betrothed humbly, and she went away to pour out coffee. Nevertheless some time after Greg ory found he hail shifted so far round the room as to be close to the door where Lyndall sat. After standing for some time he Inquired whether ho might not bring her a cup of coffee. She declined, but still he stood on (why should he not staud there as well as anywhere else?), and then he stepped luto the bedroom. "May I not bring you a stove, Miss Lyndall, to put your feet on?" "Thank you." He sought for one and put It under her feet. "There Is a draft from that broken window. Shall 1 stuff something In the pane?" "No; we want air." Gregory looked round; but, nothing else suggesting Itself, he sat down on a box on the opposite side of the door. Lyndall sat before lilm, her chin rest lug In her hand. Her eyes, steel gray by dny, but black by night, looked through the doorway Into the next room. After a time he thought she had entirely forgotten his proximity, and he dared to Inspect the little hands and ■eek as he never dared when he was In momentary dread of the eyes being turned upon him. She was dressed In black, which seemed to take her yet further from Hie white clad gewgawed women about her, and the little hands were white, and the diamond ring glit tered. Where had she got that ring? He bent forward a little and tried to decipher the letters, but the candlelight was too faint. When lie looked up, her eyes were fixed on him. She was looking at blin not, Gregory felt, as she had ever looked at iiiui before; not as though he were a stump or a stone that chance had thrown In her way. Tonight, whether It were critic ally or kindly or unkindly, lie could not tell, but she looked at him, at the man, Gregory Itose, with attention A vague elation tilled iiiui. lie clinched his list tight to think of some good Idea he might express to her, but of all those profounil iliinits lie hail (ilcturctl himself as saylnjr to her. when Le sat nlotie In the tinuli and wattle house, not one came. He saltl 'it last: "These Boer dances are very low thitißs." And then, as soon as it had gone from him. he thought it was not a clever remark and wished it back. Before Lyndall replied Em looked in at the door. "Oh, come.'" she said. "They are go ing to have the cushion dance. I do not want to kiss any of these fellows. Take me quickly." She slipped her hand into Gregory's arm. "It is so dusty, Em. Do you care to dance any more?" he asked without rising. "Oh, I do not mind the dust, and the dancing rests me." But he did not move. "I feel tired. I do not think I shall dance again," he said. Eui withdrew her hand, and a young farmer csune to the door and bore her off. "1 have often imagined"— remarked Gregory, but Lyndall had risen. "1 am tired," she said. "I wonder where Waldo is. He must take me home. These people will not leave off till morning, I suppose. It is 3 al ready." She made her way past the fiddlers and a bench full of tired dancers and passed out at the front door. On the "stoep" a group of men and boys were smoking, peepi»g in at the windows aud cracking coarse Jokes. Waldo was certainly not among them, and she made her way to the carts and wagons drawn up at some distance from the homestead. "Waldo," she said, peering into a large cart, "Is that you? I am so dazed with the tallow candles I see uothlug." He had made himself a place be tween the two seats. She climbed up and sat on the sloping floor In front. "I thought 1 should find you here," she said, drawing her skirt up about her shoulders. "You must take me home presently, but not now." She leaned her head on the seat uear to his, and they listened In slleuce to the fitful twanging of the fiddles as the night wind bore It from the farm house auil to the ceaseless thud of the dancers and the peals of gross laugh ter. She stretched out her little liuud to feel for his. "It is so nice to lie here aud hear that noise," she said. "I like to feel that strange life beating up against me. I like to realize forms of life utterly un like mine." She drew a long breath. "When my own life feels small and I am oppressed with it, I like to crush to gether and see It in a picture, in an instant, a multitude of disconnected unlike phases of human life—a me diaeval monk with his string of beads pacing the quiet orchard and looking up from the grass at his feet to the heavy fruit trees; little Malay boys playing naked on a shining seabeach; a Hindoo philosopher alone under his banyan tree, thinking, thinking, think ing, so that In the thought of God he may lose himself; a troop of Bacchana lians dressed in white, with crowus of vine leaves, dancing aloug the Uomau Itrects; a martyr on the night of his death looking through the narrow win low to the sky and feeling that already he has the wings that shall bear him up" (she moved her hand dreamily over her face); "an epicurean discours ing at a Itoman bath to a knot of his disciples on the nature of happiness; it Kaffir witch doctor seeking for herbs by moonlight, while from the huts on the hillside come the sound of dogs harking and the voices of women and children; a mother giving bread and milk to her children iu little wooden itasins and siugiug the evening song. I like to see it all. I feel It run through me. That life belongs to me. It makes my little life large. It breaks down the narrow walls that shut me In." She sighed and drew a long breath. "Have you made any plan?" she asked him presently. "Yes," he said, the words coming in Jets, with pauses between; "I will take the gray mare. I will travel first. 1 will see the world. Then I will tind work." "What work?" "I do not know." She made a little Impatient move ment. "That is no plan—travel, see the world, find work! If you go luto the world aimless, without a definite ob ject, dreaming, dreaming, you will be definitely defeated, bamboozled, kuock ed this way and that. In the eud you will stand with your beautiful life all spent aud nothing to show. They talk of genius. It Is nothing but this that a man knows what he can do best and docs It and nothing else. Waldo," she said, knitting her little fingers closer among his, "I wish I could help you. 1 wish I could make you see that you must decide what you will be aud do. It does uot matter what you choose. Be a farmer, business man, artist, what you will, but know your aim and live for that one thing. We have only one life. The secret of success is con centration. Wherever there has been a great life or a great work, that has gone before. Taste everything a little, look at little, but live for one thing. Anything is possible to a man who knows his eud and moves straight for It, and for It alone. 1 will show you what I mean," she said con cisely. "Words are gas till you con dense them luto pictures. "Suppose a woman, young, friendless as I am, the weakest thing on God's earth. But she must make her way through life. What she would be she cannot be because she Is a woman, so she looks carefully at herself and the world about her to see where her path must be made. There is no one to help her. She must help herself. She looks. These tilings she has—a sweet voice, rich lu subtle Intonations; a fair, very fair face, with a power of concentrat ing In Itself and giving expression to feelings that otherwise must have been dissipated In words; a rare power of entering Into other lives unlike her own and Intuitively reading them aright. These qualities she has. How shall she use them? "A poet, a writer, needs only the men tal. What use has he for a beautiful body that registers clearly mental emo tions? And the painter wants an eye for form and color, and the musician an ear for time and tune, and the mere drudge has no need for mental gifts. But there is one art In which all she has would be used, for which they are all necessary—the delicate, expressive Iwdy, the rich voice, the power of mental transposition. The actor, who absorbs and then reflects from himself other human lives, needs them all, but needs not much more. This Is her end, but how to reach It? Before her are endless difficulties. Seas must I*cross ed, poverty must be endured, loneli ness, want. She must be content to wait long before she can even get her feet upon the path. If she has made blun ders In the past, If she has weighted herself with a burden which she must bear to the end, she must bear the bur den bravely and labor on. There is no use in walling and repentance here. The next world Is the place for that. This life is too short. By our errors we -teener Into life. They help us." She waited for awhile. "If she does all this—lf she waits patiently. If she Is uever cast down, never despairs, never forgets her end. moves straight toward it, bending men and things most unlikely to her purpose—she must succeed at last. Men and things are plastic. They part to the right and left when ouc comes among them mov ing in a straight line to one end. 1 kuow it by my own little experience," slie said. "Long years ago 1 resolved to be sent to school. 11 seemed a thing utterly out of my power, but I waited, I watched, 1 collected clothes, I wrote, tool; my place at the school. When all was ready. I bore with my full force ou the Boer woman, and she sent me ;it last. It was a small thing, but life Is made up of small tilings, as body is built up of cells. What has been done lu small things can be done in large, shall be," she 6aid softly. Waldo lis tened. To him the words were no con fession, no glimpse into the strong, proud, restless heart of the woman. They were general words with a gen eral application. lie looked up Into the sparkling sky with dull eyes. "Yes." he said; "but when we lie and think and think we see that there is nothing worth doing. The universe Is so large, and man Is so small"— She shook her head quickly. "But we must not think so far. It is madness; It Is a disease. We know Ilmt no man's work Is great and stauds forever. Moses is dead and the proph tts, and the books that our grandmoth ers fed on the mold is eating. Your poet and painter and actor—before the shouts that applaud them have died their names grow strange; they are milestones that the world has passed. Men have set their mark on mankind forever, as they thought, but time has washed It out as It has washed out mountains and continents." She raised herself on her elbow. "And what if we could help mankind and leave the traces of our work upon It to the end? Mankind Is only an ephemeral blossom on the tree of time. There were others before It opened; there will be others after it has fallen. Where was the man in the time of the dicynodont and when hoary monsters wallowed in the mud? Will he be found In the eons that are to come? We are sparks, we are shadows, we are pollen, which the next wind will varry away. We are dying already. It Is all a dream. "1 know that thought. When the fever of living Is on us, when the de sire to become, to know, to do. Is driv ing us mud, we can use It as an ano dyne (o still the fever and cool our beating pulses. But it Is a poison, not a food. If we live on It, it will turn our blood to Ice. We might as well be dead. We must not, Waldo. 1 want your life to l>e beautiful, to end in something. You are nobler and stronger than I," she said, "and as much better as one of God's great an gels Is better than a sinning man. Your life must go for something." "Yes; we will work," he said. She moved closer to him and lay still, his black curls touching her smooth little head. Doss, who had laid at his master's side, climbed over the bench and curl ed himself up in her lap. She drew her skirt up over him, and the three sat motionless for a long time. "Waldo," she said suddenly, "they are laughing at us." "Who?" he asked, starting up. "They—the stars!" she said softly. "Do you not see? There Is a little, white, mocking linger pointing down at us from each one of them! We are talking of tomorrow and tomorrow, ami our hearts are so strong; we are not thinking of something that can touch us softly In the dark and make us still forever. They are laughing at us, Waldo." Both sat looking upward. "Do you ever pray?" he asked her In a low voice. "No." "I never do, but I might when I look up there. I will tell you," he added, In a still lower voice, "where I could pray. If there were a wall of rock on the edge of a world, und one rock stretch ed out far, far Into space, and I stood alone upon It, alone, with stars abovo me uiul stars below me—l would not say anything, but the feeling would be prayer." There was an end to their conversa tion after that, and Doss fell asleep on her knee. At last the night wind grew very chilly. "Ah," she said, shivering, and draw lug the skirt ahout her shoulders, "I am cold. InsiMin the horses, and call me when you are ready." She slipped down and walked toward the house, Doss stiffly following her, not pleased at being roused. At the door she met Gregory. "I have been looking for you every where; may I not drive you home?" he said. "Waldo drives me," she replied, pass Ing on, and it appeared to Gregory that she looked at him in the old way, with out seeing him. Hut before she had reached the door an idea had occurred to her, for she turned. If you wish to drive me, you may." Gregory went to look for Em, whom he found pouring out cofTee in the back room. He put his hand quickly on her shoulder. "You must ride with Waldo; I am going to drive your cousin home." "Hut I can't come Just now, Greg. I promised Taut' Sonnle Muller to look after the things while she went to rest a little." "Well, .vmi (.an come presently, can't you? I didn't say you were to come now. I'm nick of tlits thing," wild Gregory, turning slinrply on his heel. "Why must 1 sit up the whole night because your stepmother chooses to get married V" "Oh, it's all right, Greg. I only meant"— But lie did not hear her, and a man had come up to have his cup filled. An hour after Waldo came In to look for her and found her still busy at the tubie. "The horses are ready," he said, "but If you would lllft' to have one dance more I will wait." She shook her head wearily. "No, I am quite ready. I want to And soon they were on the sandy road the buggy had traveled an hour before. Their horses, with heads close together, nodding sleepily as they walked In the starlight, you might have counted the rise and fall of their feet In the sand, and Waldo In his saddle nodded drowsily also. Only Km was awake, and watched the starlighted roud with wide open eyes. At last she ■poke. "I wonder If all people feel so old, so very old, when they get to be 17?" "Not older than before," said Waldo, sleepily, pulling at his bridle. Presently she said again: wish I could have been a little child always. You are good then. You are never selfish. You like every one to have everything, but wheu you are grown up there are some things you like to have all to yourself. You don't like any one else to have any of them." "Yes," said Waldo sleepily, and she did not speak again. When they reached the farmhouse, all was dark, for Lyndall had retired No. 23 as soon as they got home. Waldo lifted Lui from the saddle, and for a moment she leaned her head i>n his shoulder and clung to him. "You are very tired," he said as ho walked with her to the door. "Let me go in and light a candle for you." "No. thank you; it Is all right," she said. • «;ood night. Waldo, dear." But when she went In she sat long alone In the dark. [TO &B cosmron.} UNFINISHED TALES. Stories Thut Authors UIKI" aad Fild It Impossible to Finish. The inability of un author to finish a piece of work that he has engaged to do and has already actually begun is not so very uncommon a thing. It is said thai Dickens began "The Mystery ol' Kdwin Drood" without any clear conception in his mind of how the story was going to turn out and that had he not died, leaving it unfinished, he would have found almost any ending ditlicult to reconcile with certain hints contained iu the earlier chapters. We remember a rather curious instance of the same sort as having happened a good many years ago, when the elder Bonner was editing the New York Ledger. A very impecunious literary man sent to Bonner the first chapters of a most exciting story which gave promise of being Just the sort of thing which readers of The Ledger used to like. The story was accepted and ran on un interruptedly and very successfully for about four weeks, when all of a sudden the author's invention gave out. For the life of him he could not go «n with the tale, and lie had to go to Mr. Bon ner and say so frankly. The next number of The Ledger ap peared without the expected install ment of the story, but with a brief note to the effect that, owing to the sudden illness of its author, its furthei publication was temporarily suspend ed. This was to give that embarrass ed person a chance to recover his in spiration. Mr. Bonner asked him to dinner, took him driving and In vari ous ways tried to brace him up for further work, but it was of no use. He simply could not go on, and so the rest of the story never saw the light.— New York Commercial Advertiser. HE GOT THE INTERVIEW. A Story of Amos CniumlnKi aad Sec retary of State Seward. It was while Amos Cuiimiings was the Washington correspondent of the New York Sun that he had a memora ble interview with Lincoln's secretary of state, Seward. Cummings received orders one day to get certain informa tion from Secretary Seward without fail, and accordingly he went to the secretary's otllce to see him. Mr. Seward did not receive the newspaper man very cordially. "I won't talk to a representative of The Sun ou that subject," said the sec retary. "I am very busy. You are taking up my time, young man, and I can't be bothered with you." In an instant Cummings was boiling with anger and hurt pride. He drew himself up, looked the secretary j straight lu the eyes and said: "You forget, sir, that there are three parties to this interview." "Three?" queried Seward in surprise. "How do you make that out?" "First, sir, there is you. secretary of state and oue of the foremost figures iu the world of men of the day; second, there is the correspondent of the New York Sun, who has come to you on a perfectly proper errand In the service of his newspaper, and, third, sir, there is an American citizen who considers himself the equal of any man on earth and who will not be insulted by you or any man alive!" The great Seward looked at Cum mings and smiled. "Sit down," lie said, "and tell me exactly what you want, young man." The Sun not only got the news It wanted, but also one of the best inter views with Seward ever published.— Saturday Evening Post. Simplicity of F»a. "The funniest thing I ever saw or heard," says Cliauneey M. Depew In Success, "was the lecture of Artemus Ward, then quite unknown, on Mor mons, delivered at Albany. The audi ence was fashionable, conservative aud proper to a degree. Ward, discour aged, finally stopped and said, after one of his best things, which had met with 110 response, 'There's a Joke.' Suddenly, the fun of the whole enter tainment came like an avalanche. The audience began to titter, then to laugh, then to roar and at the end of IB min utes was positively in a hysterical con dition. It was an illustration of the psychology of association and senti ment, precisely the same as that which produces panics, when there are no commercial troubles and no flnanclaJ difficulties." John Mbfrmftii on Hlmaelf. A politician who was very near to Senator John Sherman in the campaign of 181(2 says he will never forget the effect that the first kodak picture of himself had ui>ou the senator. Mr, Sherman had been speaking the night before In the Academy of Music, Phil adelphia, aud the newspaper artists had taken some lifelike snap shots of him In many attitudes. To the poli tician the senator said, upon looking over the newspapers the following day: "Well, well, our time for criticising the newspaper men is over. They have us to rights now. Hero 1 am just as I am, and I'm a caricature of what I have always thought I was."—Satur day livening Tost. What lie Loiit. The nervous commuter had one min ute in which to catch his train. He was hastening exceedingly when the cries of a small boy smote upon his ear. "Iley, mister!" shouted the urchin. "Yer've lost somethln!" The commuter stopped aud hastily counted his bundles. "What have I lost?" lie panted. "Why," said the boy, "yer've lost that shine I put on (yer shoes yistidy. "I'll give yer another fur u nickel."- Philadelphia Press. Corka Float. "Phwas I very place covered in Noah's flood. I>lnny?" "All but th* city of Cork, Larry."— Chicago News. A Matter of Taat*. The Wife—Tills paper says If you wash your hair In tea It will darken It. The Husband—Possibly. But I pre fer to have my tea darkened some oth er way.