Butler citizen., July 10, 1900, Image 1

VO- xxxvii
MILLER'S
JULY SHOE; SALE
A RECORD BREAKER!
Now is your time SSOOO worth of Summer Shoes atyour own price.
We have too many shoes and not enough money, hence no
reasonable offer will be refused. Good, seasonable footwear regard
less of cost. cash buyers will be sure to take advantage of this
great sale.
Read Every item a Leader and a Money Saver For You.
Men's Tan Shoes 08c Ladies' Serge Slippers '2t>o
Men's Bnff Shoos 98c Ladies' Gaiters ''-C
Men's Working Shore 98c Ladies' Kid Slippers
Men's Low Shore 98c Indies' Strap Sandals 48c
Man's Patent Tip Shrs $1.24 Ladies' Walking Shoes 48c
Men's Tennis Oxfords 48c Ladies' Tan Oxfords <>9c
Men's Canvas Shoes 98c ' Ladies' Kid Polish.. 99c
Many other bargains in shoes for you. Come in and sec for yourself.
July Sale A Hummer—Take It In.
C- E MILLER,
Butlcr'si Progressive Shoe Ffouse, 215 South Main Street
Bickel's Bargains!
i Great Reduction in Summer Footwear. |
We have on hand a large stock of summer footwear which will
be sold at a great reduction. Too many Tan Shoes and Oxfords.
It will pay you to visit this sale and secure some of the bargains
being offered.
FKW PRICKS.#-
Boy's $1.50 tan shoes reduced to $1 00
.. Men's $2.00 tan shoes reduced to $1.25
.... Men's $3.50 tan shoes reduced to $2.25
Men's $2.00 Oxfords reduced to $1.40 ....
Ladies' $1.75 tan shoes reduced to $1.25
Boy's fine box calf shoes reduced to SI.OO
Men's heavy sole lace working shoes .... SI.OO
Men's three sole box toe shoes 1.40 ....
.... Ladies' fine Dongola slippers 35c. •
Men's fine satin calf shoes SI.OO
Sweeping Offers in Misses' and Children's Shoes.
Wc are offering some big bargains in Misses' and Children's fine
DONGOLA and RUSSETT shoes and slippers.
We have made reductions in all lines and ask you to call and
examine our goods and we can save you money.
JOHN BICKEL,
~I2S SOUTH MAIN STREET, - - BUTLER, PA
Out of Style. Out of the World!
_ /SV. b Our garments have a style that is
\ * II ® easily distinguished from the ordin
'rary- They are the result of careful
. fefriCTf study and practical application of the
ideas gathered by frequent visits to
// ;the fashion centres, and by personal
Umf contact with the leading tailors and
Wq | fashion authorities of the county.
j! V They are made in our own work
ijj I shop by the highest paid journey-
W men tailors in Butler, yet it is pos
sible to (and we do) give our patrons these first-chtss clothes at the
price you would pay for the other sort. We believe we have given
good reasons why our tailoring is the best and cheapest and would
be grateful for the opportunity to show you our handsome spring
stock arid give you prices to prove them.
A| Q « ,-4 MAKER OF
-**.10.1 MEN'S Clothes
s.
Spring STYLES m §yj
■Jfv Men don't buy clothing for the pur-'Jfr _V , lV.f 1 !
Appose or spending money. They I |T f L CT
fCto get the best j>ossible results for A If £j At T
expended. Not cheap
for and made up properly. If
want the correct tiling at the cor-'®" LA 1
,Sg£.rect price, call and examine ~~~~~ \ ife' 1 ! •'i-'fl ?
a;iar K e stack of SPRING WfirGJITS-rC \ W 'li if
jL.yrivST STYLES, SHADES and& \1 'VI 1
Fits and Workmanship I'M i'f
Guaranteed.
G F. K6CK,
42 Norv Street, :-: Butle.r, Pa
a LUXURY SUCH AS THE
' t ROMANSINDULGED IN
* can be reveled in a modem bath
t+T j 'f&- room, when fitted up with porce
.lain tub, shower bath, tiled walls
.i'ii. and floors and exposed plumbing.
'■) \ We will fit you up a bathroom
J'.- such as Lucullus never laved him
' Jeffs' self in, with all the modern im
. l " .- v ••-,s. provements and conveniences, at
• prices that cannot be competed
Wl th .
Geo. Wl. VA/hitehlll,
318 South Main St., PLUMBER, Butler, Pa.
i übscribc for the CITIZEN
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
IH plLLs\
Rouse r th' 1 tor J pi J liver, and rure
biliousness, sick I headache, jaundice,
nansea, liidlsjcsf tion, etc. They are in
valuable to prevent a cold or break up a
fever. Mild, gentle, certain, they are worthy
your confidence. Purely vesetable. they
can be taken by children or delicate women.
Price. 25c. at all n.edicine dealers or by mail
of C. I. HOOD & Co., Lowell, Mass. •
BUTLER
BUSINESS
COLLEGE.
1 Fall t?rm begins, Mo.iday, Sept. 13, 1900
COURSES.
I—Practical1 —Practical Book-keepers. 2—Expert
Accountants. 3 —Amanuensis Shorthand
; 4 —Reporter's Shorthand.- s—Practical5 —Practical
j Short Course in Book-keeping, for those
who merely wish to understand the
I simpler methods of keeping books. 6
; English.
OCBTEACHERS— We hive fonr :it rresent
■ always as manv :is we need, no more.
I POSITIONS— \«e expect to be able to place
at least twice as mauy graduates in positions
the coming year as we have the past. We
could place three when- we plare one If we
only had more of the kind of material
to work oa. Young man. young woman. If
you have a fair English education, and are
Industrious and persistent it will be to your
interest to take at least one of our courses,
and let us assist you to remunerative em
ployment. *
The finest system of shorthand ever pub
lished will be used in our school the coming
year. Call and examine It. Send for a copy
of our new catalogue and circulars.
A. F. REGAL, Prin.,
319-327 S. Main St., Butler, Pa.
Good Fit and Work Guaranteed.
Karl Schluchter,
Practical Tailor and Cutter
125 W. Jeflcrscu, Butler, Pa.
Busheling, Cleaning and
Repairing a Specialty.
SNYDER <& THOMPSON
West Jelerson St, Butler, Pa.
LIVERV, BOARDING
AND SALE STABLE.
PLENTY OF ROOM,
GOOD CARE AND
I-'IRST CLASS EQUIPMENT.
BIRD SNYDKR,
JAMFS A. THOMPSON.
i eoplc's Phone 109,
Bell's Phone 50
NEW HOUSE. NEW FCRNITORE.
Central Hotel
SIMEON NIXON, JH.,I M
J. BROWN NIXON, ) '•
BUTLE R, PA
Opposite Court Ih.use.
• Next Door to Park Theatre.
Sunday Dinners A Specialty.
Meals 25 cts. Rooms 50 cts.
Regular Rates sl.
Local and Long Distance Phones
Hotel Waverly,
South McKean Street,
J. W HAWORTH, Prop'r.,
BUTLER, PA
Steam Heat and Electric Light.
The most commodious? office in the
city.
Stabling in Contiec'ioc.
HOTEL ARANDALE,
Bedford, Penn'a.,
Now open wlt.h increa ted attractions. Ar
rangements have been made with the
Springs Company far the famous mineral
water to !>e brought to the hotel daily.
Terms moderate. Write for booklet
ALSIP & SMITH. Props.
'/? J{. VK Jf. A M &MJK M y 3' yXy *K *f'
ft sjc y %rjfr y x
Butler People
Should Patroni2e the |
1 Hotel Kelly I
I* A. Kelly & Sons, Prop'rs., §
Cambridge Springs- Pa. $;
A first-class hotel, Just opened, 5
in acharmlnj? country location. *
in connection with the famous J
Mitchell Springs; everythiuß, 3j
new. modern and up-to-date; £
further information with rates, jp
a-. etc., cheerfully furnished on 3?
* application: free carriages to $
$ and from all trahis.
ft * ' Jt I
WMHH it***
************* * *m**>i:'.l | :i*)K*HiHMfc
Pfanos Tuned, Voiced and
Regulated.
Now is the time to have your
Piano looked after. You want a
reliable man to do the work, not
one that is here today and gone
tomorrow. "Tramp Tuners" gen
erally half do their work if they
know how to do it at all. A great
many pianos get the blame when
the tuner (?)is at fault. lam here
to stay and guarantee all work.
J. C CANER. at Newton's
Music Store, or 109 Water Street,
Hutler, Pa.
Instruction given on all instru
ments.
Now is The Time to Have
Your Clothing
CLEANEDjOR DYED.
If you want good and reliable
cleaning or dyeing done, there is
just one place in town where yo»
can get it, and that is at
The Butler Dye Works
216 Center avenue
do fine work in out
door Photographs. This is the
time of year to have a picture ot
your house. Give us a trial.)
Agent for the Jamestown Sliding
Blind Co.—New York.
1 R. FISHER <& SON-
BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, *J UI.V IQ, IQCX3
|th mm. ■j „ I
•| ® SCISIUKR. S
I mm Fin 1 i
S H
A TALE OF LIFE IN THE £?
"A" BOEFT REPUBLIC. 2^
iusUf'jTii X': X' •- • si-ii • s(7 Or tiv • m ■_ s*z a ? •-ailvi"
She moved restlessly, as though in
pain.
Gregory, assented, and there was pi
lence again. It was the first time she
had ever spoken of her child.
"It was so small," she said. "It liv
ed such a little while—only threo hours.
They laid it close by me, but I never
saw It. I could feel it by me." She
waited. "Its feet were so cold. 1 took
them In my hand to make them warm,
and my hand closed right over them,
they were so little." There was an uu
even trembling in tlio voice. "It crept
close to me. It wanted to drink; It
wanted to be warm." She hardened
herself. "I did not love It. Its father
was not my prince. I did not care for
It. But it was so little." She moved
her-hand. "They might have kissed it,
one of them, before they put it In. It
never did any one any harm in all its
little life. They might have klused It.
one of them."
Gregory felt that some one was sob
bing in the room.
Late on in tl.e evening, when the
shutter was closed and the lamp light
ed and the raindrops boat on t! • roof,
he took the e!--uk from behind the door
and v. -at away with It. On his way
back h< called at the village postollioe
and brought back a letter. In the liaH
lie stood reading the address. How
could he fall to know whose hand had
written It? Had he uot long ago stud
ied t M i* characters on the torn frag
ments f paper In the old parlor? A
bun. pain was at Gregory's heart.
If 1:. -.v. 1- w at the last, one show! I
come. : i.i '.'hi step in between! II- c;.:'
tied the letter Into the l;edio.-.in I
ga\e It t-> her. "Ilting rae the i- i;>
nearer. 1 ' she said. Wl;. ;• she had re. .1
It. she a: l ed fot her desk
Then CJregotj at dowu In the lamp-,
light c,i the . -I:.-.- side of toe curiala
anil he- . ! the i« .licit move on the pit
pet V* . *' . 1 looked :»und the cur
tain, she e, u.» lying <•!. (lie 1 -v min
ing. The open letter lay at I. v sido.
She glance ;at it with soft eye.-. '1 he
man with lie languid cyeiid : :.:~t
have been strangely moved before h : s
hand set down those words: "Lot me
come bnri to you! My darlh let me
put my hand round you and gaard yvu
from all the world! As my th.';.
shall iiev,-r touch you. I have 1 • t: 1
to love you more wisely, mere tender
ly, than of old. You shall have per
fect fre-dom. Lyndall, ;rraud little
woman, for your own sake, be my
wife!
"Why did you send that money back
to me? Ye 1 are cruel to me. It is not
rightly done."
She rolled the little red pencil softly
between her lingers, and her face grew
very soft. Yet—
"lt cannot be," she wrote. "I thank
you much for the love ybu have shown
me, but I cannot listen. You will call
me mad f-iollsh the world would do
so—but I know what 1 need and the
kind of path I must walk In. I cr.nuet
marry you. I will always love you for
the sake of what lay by me those three
hours, but there It ends. I must know
and see. I cannot be bound to one
whom I love as I love you. lam not
afraid of the world. I will fight the
world. One day—perhaps It may be far
off—l shall find what I have wanted all
my life, something nobler, stronger
than I. before which 1 can kneel down.
You lose nothing by not having me
now. lam a weak, selfish, erring wo
man. One day I shall find something
to worship, and then I shall be"—
"Nurse," she said, "take my desk
away. lam suddenly ho sleepy. I will
write more tomorrow." Slie turned
her face to the pillow. It was the sud
den drowsiness of great weakness. She
had dropped asleep in a moment, and
Gregory moved the desk softly and
then sat in the chair watching. Hour
after hour passed* hut he had no wish
for rest and sat on, hearing the rain
cease and the still night settle down
everywhere. At a quarter past J2 he
rose and took a last look at the bed
where she lay sleeping so peacefully.
Then he turned to go to his couch. Be
fore he had reached the door she had
started up and was calling him hack.
"You are sure you have put it up,"
she said, with a look of blank terror at
the window. "It will not fall open in
the night, the shutter—you are sure?"
lie comforted her. Yes; it was tight
ly fastened.
"Even if It is shut," she said in a
whisper, "you cannot keep it out! You
feel It coming In at 4 o'clock, creeping,
creejilng, up, up, deadly cold!" Sho
shuddered.
lie thought she was wandering and
laid her little trembling body down
among the blankets.
"I dreamed just now that It was not
put up," she said, looking into his
eyes, "and It crept right in, and I was
alone with it."
"What do you fear?" ho asked ten
derly.
"Thu gray dawn," sho said, glancing
round at the window. "I was never
if raid of anything, never when I was
k little elilld, but 1 have always been
r.fmld of that. You will not let It
lome In to me?"
"No, no; I will stay with you," he
rontinucd.
But sho was growing calmer. "No;
fou must go to bed. I only awoke
with a start. You must be tired. I
am childish; that Is all." But she
shivered again.
He sat down beside her. After somo
time she said. "Will you not rub my
feet?"
lie knelt down a; the foot of th»
bed and took the tluy loot ia his hand.
It was swollen an 1 unsightly now, but
as lie touched It he bent down and
covered It with kisses.
"It makes 1t better when you kiss it.
Thank you! What makes you all love
me so'/"' alien dreamily she muttered
to herself: "Not utterly bad, not.quite
bad. What makes them all love me
so?"
Kneeling there, rubbing softly.i with
his cheek pressed against the; little
foot, Gregory dropped to sleep at last.
How long lie knelt there he cofuld not
tell, but when he started up awake
she was not looking at him. Tlio eyos
we.. Ivod on the far corner, gazing
wide and latent with an unearthly
lib :
lie ;. .. i round fearfully. What
did she see there—God's angels come
to call her, something fearful? He
saw only the purple curtain with the
shadows that fell from It. Softly he
whispered, asking what she saw there.
And she said, la a voice strangely
unlike her owu: "I see the vision of a
poor weal; soul striving after good. It
was not cut short, and In the end it
learned, through tears and much pain.
that hi ■lines.; is an Infinite <•« '£i; passion
for others; that greatness Is to take the
common things of life anil walk tru!;.
among them; that"—she mm-ed her
white hand and laid it on her fore
head—"happiness Is a great love and
much serving. It was uot cut short,
anl it loved what It had learned—lt
loved—and" —
Was that all she saw in the corner?
Gregory told the landlady the next
morning thai she had been wandering
all night. Yet when he came ln to
glv her her breakfast she was sitting
up against the pillows, looking as he
ha-.l 1. >t seen her look before.
"Put It close to mo." she said, "and
when I have had breakfast I am going
to dress."
She finished all he had brought her
eagerly.
"I am sitting up quite by myself."
she said. "Give me his meat." And
she fed the dog herself, cutting his
food small for him. She moved to the
side of the bed.
"Now bring the chair near and dress
me. It Is being in this room so long
and looking at that miserable little bit
of sunshine that comes In through the
shutter that Is making me so ill. Al
ways that lion's paw!" she said, with a
look of disgust at it. Tome and dress
me." Gregory knelt on the floor lie
fore her and tried to draw on one
stocking, but the little swollen foot re
fused to be covered.
"It Is very funny that I should have
grown so t'at since 1 have been so ill,"
she said, peering down curiously. "I'er
haps It is want of exercise." She look
ed troubled and said again. "Perhaps
It is want of exercise." She wanted
Gregory to say so. too, but he only
found a larger pair and then tried to
force the shoes—oh, so tenderly!—on
to her little feet.
"There!" she said, looklug dov n at
them when they were on with the de
light of a small child over its first
shoes. "I could walk now. How nice
it looks!"
"No," she said, seeing the soft gown
ho had prepared for her; "I will not
put that on. Get one of my white
dresses, the one with the pink bows.
I do not even want to think 1 have
been ill. It is thinking and thinking
of tilings that makes tliem real," she
said. "When you draw your mind
together and resolve that a thing shall
not be, it gives way before you; It ts
not. Everything is possible if one is
resolved," she said. She drew in her
little lips together, and Gregory obeyed
her. She was so small and slight now
It was like dressing a small doll. He
woul 1 have lifted her down from the
bed when he had finished, but she
pushed him from her, laughip? very
softly. It was the first time she had
laughed 111 those long dreary months.
"No, uo; 1 can get dowu myself," she
said, slipping cautiously to the floor.
"You see!" She cast a defiant glance
of "triumph when she stood there.
"Hold the curtain up high. 1 want to
look at myself."
He raised it and stood holding It.
She looked into the glass ou the op
posite wall—such a queenly little fig
ure in Its pink and white; such a
transparent little face, refined by suf
fering iuto an almost angellike beau
ty. The face looked at her. She look
ed back, laughing softly. Doss, quiv
ering with excitement, ran round her,
barking. She took one step toward
the door, balancing herself with out
stretched hands.
"I am nearly there," she said.
Then she groped blindly.
"Oh, 1 cannot see! 1 cannot see!
Where am I?" she cried.
When Gregory reached her, she had
fallen with her face against the sharp
foot of tho wardrobe and cut her fore
head. Very tenderly he raised the lit
tle crushed heap of muslin and ribbons
and laid it on the bed. Doss climbed
up and sat looking down at It. Very
softly Gregory's hands disrobed her.
"You will be stronger tomorrow, and
then we shall try again," he said, but
she neither looked at him nor stirred.
So she lay all that morning and all
that afternoon.
At last In tho evening he bent over
her.
"The oxen have come," he said. "We
can start tomorrow If you like. Shall
I get the wagon ready tonight?"
Twice he repeated his question. Then
she looked up at him, and Gregory saw
that all hope had died out of the beau
tiful eyes. It was not stupor that shone
there. It was despair.*
"Yes; lot us go," she said.
"It makes no difference," said the
doctor, "staying or going. It Is closo
now."
So the next day Gregory carried her
out in Ills arms to-the wagon which
stood "Inspanned" before the door. A»
he laid her down ou the "knrtel" she
looked far out across the plain. For
the first time she spoke that day.
"That blue mountain far away—let
us stop when we got to It, not boforo."
She closed her eyes again. lie drew
the sails down before aud behind, and
the wagon relied away slowly. Tho
landlady and the niggers stood to
watch It from the "stoep."
Very silently the great wagon rolled
along the grass covered plain. The
driver on the front box did not clap his
whip or call to Ills oxen, and Gregory
nut beside him with folded arms. Be
hind them, hi the closed wagon, she
lay, with tho dog at her feet, very
quiot, with folded hands. He (Greg
ory) dared uot be ln there. Like Hagar
when she laid her treasure down ln
the wilderness, he sat ufar off. "For
tlagar said, Let me not seo the death
of the child."
Evening came, and yet the blue
mountain was not reached, and all the
next day they rode on slowly, but still
It was far off. Only at eveniug they
peached It, not blue now, but low aud
brown, covered with long waving
grasses and rough stones. They drew
the wagon up close to its foot for the
night. It was a sheltered, warm spot.
The night was growing very old
when from a long, peaceful sleep Lyn
dall awoke. The candle burned at her
head. The dog lay on her feet, but
he shivered. It seemed as though
a coldness struck up to him from
his resting plnce. She lay with fold
ed bauds, looking upward, and she
heard the oxen chewing, and she saw
the two mosquitoes buzzing drearily
round and round, and her thoughts—
fcer thoughts ran far back Into the past.
Through these months of anguish a
mist had rested on her mind. It was
rolled together now, and the old clear
Intellect awoke from its lonx torpor. It
•looked back into the past. It saw the
present. There was uo future now.
'i he •>':.! Hi >■ ! g::'.:.e:v.l Itself to
g« :her fo. t! ;( < tost time. !t knew
where it stood.
Sl.wly herself 00 i.er iil>o\\
slu» t.ioi. fro.ll the sal! a glass that
hucg pinned there. Her Angers wen
stiff and cold. She put tlio pillow on
her breast and stood the glasj against
it. Tli.-ii the white face ou the pillow
looked iuto the white face In the glass.
They had looked at each other often so
before. It had been a child's face once,
looking out above Its blue pinafore. It
had been n woman's face, with a dim
shadow In the e-jvs and a something
which had said: "We are not afraid,
you and I. We are together. We will
fight, yon and I." Now tonight It had
come to this. The dying eyes on the
pillow look«>d Into the dying eyes in
the glass. They knew that their hour
had come. She raised one hand and
pressed the stiff lingers against the
glass. They were growing very stiff.
She tried to speak to it, but she would
never speak again. Only the wonder
ful yearning liglit was in the eyes still.
The body was dead now, but the soul,
clear and unclouded, looked forth.
Then slowly, without a sound, the
beautiful eyes closed. The dead face
that the glass reflected was a thing of
marvelous beauty and tranquillity. The
gray dawn crept In over it and saw It
lying there.
Had she found what she sought for—
something to worship? Had she ceas
ed from being? Who shall tell 11s?
There is a veil of terrible mist over
the face of the hereafter.
CHAPTER XXVI.
DREAMS.
"Tell me what a soul desires, and I
will tell you what it Is." So runs the
phrase.
"Tell me what a man dreams, and 1
will tell you what he loves." That
also has Its truth.
On the night when Gregory told his
story Waldo sat alone before the fire,
his uutasted supper before lilm. He
was weary after his day's work, too
weary to eat. lie put the plate down
on the floor for Doss, who licked It
clean and tben went back to his corner.
After a time the master threw himself
across the foot of the l>t-d without un
dressing and fell asleep there. He slept
so long that the candle burned Itself
out and the room was In darkness. But
he dreamed a lovely dream as ho lay
there.
In his dream, to his right rose lilgli
mountains, their tops crowned with
snow, their sides clothed with bush and
bathed in the sunshine. At their feet
was the sea blue and breezy, bluer
thau any earthly sea, like the sea he
had dreamed of in his boyhood. Ln
the narrow forest that van between the
mountains and the sea the air was rich
with the scent of the honey creeper
that hung from dark green bushes, and
through the velvety grass little streams
ran purling down iuto the sea. He sat
ou a high, square rock among the
bushes, and Lyndall sat by him and
sang to him. She was only a small
child, with a blue pinafore and a grave,
grave, little face. He was looking up
at the mountains. Then suddenly when
he looked round she was gone. lie
slipped down from his rock and went
to look for her, but he found only her
little footmarks, nc found them on
the bright green grass aud ln the moist
sand and there where the little streams
ran purling dowu luto the sea. In and
out, ln and out. and among the bushes
where the honey creeper hung, ho went
looklug for her.
At last, far off. In the sunshine, he
saw her gathering shells upon the sand.
She w as not a child now, but a woman,
and the sun shoue on her soft brown
hair, and ln her white dress she put the
shells she gathered. She was stooping,
but when she heard his step she stood
up, holding her skirt close about her,
and waited for his coming. One baud
she put in his, and together they walk
ed on over the glittering sand and pink
seashells, and they heard the leaves
talking, and they heard the water bah
bllng on their way to tlie sea, and they
heard the sea singing to Itself, singing,
singing.
At last they came to a place where
was a long reach of pure white sand.
There she stood still and dropped on to
the sand one by one the shells that she
had gathered. Then she looked up into
lilft face with her beautiful eyes. She
said nothing; but she lifted one hand
and laid It softly on his forehead. The
other she laid 011 his heart.
With a cry of suppressed agony Wal
do sprang from the bed, flung open the
upper half of the door and leaned out,
breathing heavily.
Great God! It might be only a dream,
but the pain was very real, as though u
knife ran through Ills heart, as though
Borne treacherous murderer crept on
him In the dark! The strong man drew
his breath like a frightened woman.
"Only a dream, but the pain was very
real," he muttered as lie pressed his
right hand upon his breast. Then he
folded his arms on the door aud stood
looking out into the starlight.
The dream was with him still. The
woman who was his friend was not
separated froiU him by years. Only
that very night he had seen her. Jle
looked up into the night sky that all
his life long had mingled Itself with
his existence. There were a thousand
faces that he loved looking dowu at
him, a thousand stars in their glory, lu
crowns and circles and solitary gran
deur. To the nuiu they were not less
dear than to the boy they had been not
less mysterious, yet he looked up at
them and Bhuddered, at last turnod
away from them with horror. Such
countless multitudes, stretching out
far iuto space, and yet not ln one of
them all was she! Though he search
ed through them all, to the farthest,
faintest point of light, nowhere should
he ever say, "She Is here!" Tomor
row's sun would rise and gild the
world's mountains and shine into Its
thousand valleys. It would set and
the stars creep out again. Year after
year, century after century, the old
changes of nature would go on, day
and night, summer and winter, seed
time aud harvest, but In none of them
all would she have part!
He shut the door to keep out their
hideous shining and because the dark
was Intolerable lighted a candle and
paced the little room faster and faster
yet. He saw before him the long ages
of eternity that would roll on, on, on,
and never bring her. She would exist
no more. A dark mist tilled the little
room.
"Oh, little hand! Oh, little voicel
Oh, little form!" he cried. "Oh, little
soul that walked with mine! Oh, little
soul, that looked so fearlessly down
into the depths, do you exist no more
fonever, for all time?" lie cried more
bltjterly: "It is for this hour—this—that
men blind reason and crush out
tbtouglit! For this hour—this, this—
tliey barter truth and knowledge, take
lOiy lie, any creed, so it does not whis
per to them of the dead Clint they are
dead! O God, <Jod, for a hereafter!"
Muttering to himself, Waldo walked
with bent head, the mist In his eyes.
To' th 6 soid's wild cry for its own
there are many answers. lie began
to think of them. Was not there one
of then) all from which he might suck
one drop of comfort?
"You shall,see her agalji," snvs the
Chrlsthtu, llu* true Blhle ChrlstUu.
"Yon; you shall si-e her 'An 1 i
saw the d.-a«l. gnat and small, stand
U'lore God And the books were open
ed, and the dead were Judged from
those thiug.i which were written In the
boots. And whosoever was not found
written In tl.e book of life wa» cast
Into the "lake of lire, which is the sec
ond death.' Yes; you shall see her
igalii. She died so, with her knee uu
lu-at. with her hand uuralsed. with
a ;,:-a;.'. t unuttered. In the pride of her
intellect and the strength of her youth.
Sh'j loved, and she was loved. But she
no prayer to God; she cried for
uo mercy; she repented of no sin! Yes;
you shall see l:er again."
In his bitterness Waldo laughed low.
Ah. he had long ceased to hearken
to the hellish voice!
r.tit yet another speaks.
"You shall see her agnln," says the
nlnet -enth centßry Christian, deep Into
whose soul modern unbelief and
thought have crept, though he knows
It not. lie it is who uses his Bible
as the pearl fishers use their shells,
sorting out gems from refuse. He sets
his pearls after his own fashion, and
he sets them well. "Po not fear." he
says. "Hell and Judgment are not.
God is k>ve. I know that beyond this
l lue sky above us Is a love as wide
spreading over all The All Father
w 111 show her to you agaiu— not spirit
only. The little hands, the little feet,
you loved -you shall lie down aud kiss
them If you will Christ arose and did
eat and drink. So shall she arise. The
dead, all the dead, raised Incorrupti
ble! God Is love. You shall see her
again."
It is 11 heavenly song this of the nine
teenth century Christian. A man might
dry his tears to listen to It but for tlila
one thing—Waldo muttered to him
self confusedly:
"The thing I loved was a woman
[•ruud aud young. It had a mother
once, who, dying, kissed her little baby
and prayed God that she might see It
again. If It had lived, the loved thing
would Itself have bad a son, who,
when he closed the weary eyes and
smoothed the wrinkled forehead of
his mother, would have prayed God to
see that old face smile again In the
hereafter. To the son heaven will be
no heaven If the sweet worn face Is
not Ui one of the choirs. He will look
for It through the phalanx of God's
glorified and the youth will
look for the maid, and the mother for
I'.- baby. "And whose then shall she
\e at the resurrection of the dead?"
"Ah, God! Ah, God! A beautiful
dream!" he cried. "But can any one
dream It uot sleeping?"
Waldo paced on, moaning ln agony
end longing.
He heard the transcendentalisms
high answer:
"What have you to do with fiesb,
the gross aud miserable garment In
which spirit hides Itself? You shall
see her ag9.ln. t But the hand, the foot,
the forehead, you loved you shall see
no more. The loves, the fears, the
frailties, that are l>orn with the flesh,
with the flesh shall die. Let them die!
There Is that in man that cannot die—
a seed, a germ, an embryo, a spiritual
essence. Higher than she was ou
earth, as the tree Is higher than the
seed, the man than the embryo, so
shall you tiehold her, changed, glori
fied!" *
High words, ringing well. They ure
the offering of Jewels to the hungry, of
gold to Uie man who <IIOB for bread.
Bread is corruption; gold Is Incorrupti
ble. Bread Is light; gold Is heavy.
Bread Is common; gold Is rare. But the
hungry man will barter all your mlues
for one morsel of bread. Around God's
throne there may be choirs and com
panies of angels, cherubim and sera
phim, rising tier above tier, but not for
one of them all does the soul cry aloud,
only perhaps for a little human wom
an, full of sin. that It once loved!
"Change Is death, change is death 1"
he cried. "I want 110 angel, only she
no holier and no better, with all her
Bins uiMjn her. So give her me or give
me nothing!"
For the soul's fierce cry for immor
tality is this, only this: Return to me
after death the thing as it was before.
Leave me lu the hereafter the being
that I am today. Itob me of the
thoughts, the feellugs, the desires, that
are my life, and you have left nothing
to take. Your Immortality Is anuililla
tfon; your hereafter Is a lie.
Waldo flung open the door and walk
ed out Into the starlight, his pain
stricken thoughts ever driving him on
as he paced there.
"There must be a hereafter because
man longs for It," he whispered. "Is
not all life from the cradle to the grave
one long yearning for that which we
never touch? There must be a here
after because we cannot think of any
end to life. Can we think of a begin
ning? Is It easier to say 'I was not'
than to say 'I shall not be?' And yet
where were we 90 years ago? Dreams,
dreams! Ah, all dreams and lies! No
ground anywhere!"
All dies, all dies! The roses are red
with the matter that once reddened
the cheek of the child. The flowers
bloom the fairest on the last year's bat
tleground. The work of Death's fluger
cunningly wreathed over Is at the
heart of all things, even of the living.
Death's fluger Is everywhere. The
rocks are built up of a life that was.
Bodies, thoughts and loves die. From
where springs that whisper to the tiny
soul of man, "You shall not die?" Ah,
Is there 110 truth of which this dream is
the shadow?
lie foil Into perfect 6llence. Ami at
lust, as lie walked there with his beut
head, his soul passed down the steps
of contemplation Into that vast land
where there Is always peace; that land
where the soul, gazing long, loses all
consciousness of Its little self and al
most feels Its hand on the old mystery
of Universal Unity that surrounds It.
"No death, no death!" he muttered.
"There Is that which never dies, which
abides. It is but the individual that
perishes; the whole remains. It is the
Organism that vanishes; the atoms are
there. It is but the man that dies; the
Universal WIIOW of which he Is part
reworks him into Its inmost self. Ah,
what matter that man's (lay be short;
that the sunrise sees him. and the sun
set sees Ids grave. That of which he
is but the breath has breathed him
forth and drawn him back again. That
übiiles; we abide."
For the little soul that cries aloud for
continued personal existence for Itself
and its beloved there is no help. For
the soul which knows Itself no more as
a unit, but as a part of the Universal
Unity of which the Beloved also Is a
part, which feels within Itself the
throb of the Universal Life—for that
soul there is no death.
"Let us die, beloved, you and I, that
we may pass on forever through the
Universal Life. 1 " In that deep world
of contemplation all tierce desires die
out, and peace conies down. He (Wul
<lo) as he walked there saw no morv
the world that was about him; cried
out no more for the thing that he had
lost. Ills soul rested. Was it only
John, think you, who saw the heavens
open? The dreamers see It every day.
So nge succeeds age, and dream sue
cecds dream, and of the joy of the
dreamer no man knowcth but he who
drenmoth.
Our father-" had their ilrttun; wr I
have ours: tbe generation that follows
win have Its oiva. Without dreams
and phnut ms nun eanuot exist.
(TO sj co::T:"7*».J
ORGANIC NITROGEN.
Savlnfi Itn Cost by Growlnd
pens and Clo>«r.
Many good farmers tire coming to
understand that In -irdlnary fruit cul
turt- nitrate of soda Is al»>ut the only
form <>f nitrogen they need to buy. By
growing cowpeas and crimson clover
Hid fertilizing them with rock and pot
ish they can ol>taln a large supply of
organic nitrogen which can lie renewed
year after year. If the plants give
evidence that they need It, nitrate of
soda can be plowed In. and the effect
of this form of nitrogen is so rapid
that a late application will fully-kcep
up the yield. In this way many farm
ers can save the cost of organic nitro
gen. provided they handle the cowpeaa
and clover to the best advantage and
use enough of the minerals In connec
tion with them.
In some cases orchard growers object
to green manure in the orchard be
cause, they say. It Interferes with sur
face cultivation. The use of the cow
pea may remove this objection. Tbe
cowpeas may be planted in drills or,
like corn. In bills, three feet apart.
This planting may be done ahe.it the
Ist of June and the cultivator kept
at work through the crop until the
vines are too large to permit It to pass
through. At the last cultivation a mix
ture of rape and crimson clover seed
may 1m» sown In the cowpeas and cul
tivate! In. When It obtains a start,
tho pigs may be turned in to eat down
the cowpeas, clover and rape and also
destroy small and wormy apples. In
this way we secure not only a green
crop, but we are also able to cultivate
thoroughly up to the middle of August.
—H. W. Collingwood.
Section* For Honey.
The accompanying cut shows the
section box which Is now so largely
used for getting comb honey stored in
marketable shape. A crate of sections
I] v 'fijy \ ° I.'jsh
SECTION HOSES.
Is seen and u shipping case of honey in
sections, with three sections resting on
top. In the center is seen a section be
fore it Is folded in a square and the
dovetailed ends driven together.—
Farm, Field and Fireside.
Hymn Unccata For Apple Stock.
"The winter of 1898-0 was a disas
trous one in many sections of the Unit
ed States to fruit trees. The apple,
among others, suffered very much, be
ing killed roots and all. This has led
to an efTort to secure more hardy
stocks, and Pyrus baccata Is possibly
more In favor than anything else at
tbe present time. This apple produces
numerous clusters of small fruit about
the siste of some of our larger native
cherries. Seedlings of the Transcend
ent crab have also been tried with
good results thus far. Mr. E. H. S.
Dartt of Minnesota places little faith
In any of these so called hardy roots
and claims that all were killed alike in
his vicinity. Of course," concludes,
Meehan, "this does not demonstrate
that one will not at least prove less
liable to being killed, and experiments
aloug the line mentioned are worth the
effort Where the snowfall was heavy
and remained on the ground during the
coldest weather the roots were preserv
ed. By this Is shown that some tem
porary cover, acting as a mulch over
winter, would help them."
Hon to Test Seed.
A simple germinntlng apparatus can
be made from two ordinary plates and
a piece of flannel cloth. Fold the cloth
and lay It In one plate, placing the
seeds between folds of the cloth, which
should be moist, not dripping. Cover
the whole with another plate inverted
and stand In a warm place. During
cold weather the temperature should
not be much below 50 degrees F. at
night nnd 05 or 70 degrees during the
day. The seeds that have sprouted
should be removed and counted every
day. When the test is completed, the
number of seeds sprouted can be com
pared with the number put in the test
and the percentage of germination de
termined. Clover seeds, cereals and
timothy should be tested for about ten
days, while other grass seeds need 14
to RO days.
Agricultural Brevities.
Seed testing establishments generally
allow ten days as tho limit within
which red clover will sprout. Fresh
seed is generally bright and plump in
appearance, and such Is moat valuable.
Samples that have a large admixture
of dull, dark brown seeds should lie
looked upon with suspicion.
Returns to the uational census de
partment from the preliminary investi
gations of the cranberry industry show
that there are 2,000 cranberry growers
In the United States. There are grow
ers In Washington, Oregon, Rhode Is
land, New York, etc., besides the old
established sections Of Mew Jaruoy,
Massachusetts, etc.
If Canada peas aud oats are to be
sown together for a forage crop, sow
the peas a week or ten days before the
ioats are sown aud put the peas about
I three Inches below the surface and
harrow the outs lightly, says American
Cultivator.
The rot Is the most troublesome ene
my of the Japan plum unless It be Its
tendency to overbear. Eternal vigilance
is'the price of plums, picking off and
burning the rot whenever it-appears.
A Facetlons Inference.
She—Oh, Jack, tho restaurant goi
afire, and I Just sat perfectly still and
finished my luncheon.
He—H'm! Somebody must have treat
ed you to ice cream.—Detroit Fre»
Press.
Heal Hardship.
Dolly—What an awful, awful tlint
the pioneers must have had!
Polly—Yes. Just think the pool
things didn't have challng dishes! —Chi-
His Honor Sllithtly Unbends.
"He's your husband, isn't he, mad
am? And lie pounded you, didn't he?"
"Yes, your honor, but if you will let
him off this time I don't think he'll do
It again. If you tine him, I'll have It to
pay, your honor."
"What Is your name, madam?"
"Anna I'eale, your honor."
"Anna Peale? Well, an appeal ot
this kind moves me. I'll not fine him,
my good woman. I'!' send him to Jail
for six months. Call tie next case."—
Chicago Tribune.
NJo. 23
FAMILIAR GARDEN PEST 3.
Tomnln tint! Catibav* Wotai-llnua
I'lckluu and ltr>U-l.lint Mixture, '
tbe immense green or brownish
tnato worm, tlireo or four Inches lori£,
Is familiar to all gardeners. Its large
j'ze and ravenous appetite inuke It
very destructive to tomato plants. To
ward full the worms burrow Into the
ground and transform to ehrysallds
about two Inches long and of a reddish
brown color. The eh ry sal Id has a pe
cutlar tongue case, which t»ends nndei
the body, much in the shape of the
handle of a pitcher, fci the spring
those chrysaitds are often plowed up
and should theu be destroyed.
they transform Into very large, beauti
ful uight flying sphinx moths four 01
five Inches across the wings. Tbe
body Is sjwotted and marked with black,
white and yellow, and the wicgs are
as by gruy, with dark tfrap an;! black
markings.
Hand picking Is about the most satis
factory way of disposing of them. An
active boy can kill them rapidly by
striking them with a stick as he walks
aloug the rows. When worms are
seen with little white objects sticking
to them, they should not be Injured,
because tbe white objects contain
parasitic Insects, which destroy the
worius.
The greeu cabbage worm and tbe
pale yellow butterfly, into which it
matures, are among tbe most familiar
of our Insects. They work on the tur
nips, cauliflower and other near related
plants There are three or more broods
of these worms during tbe season.
Tbey are gross feeders, eating tha
leaves and often enough of tbe head
of cabbage to destroy It
Remedy.- The resin-lime mixture
will adhere to the oily surface of the
leaves of the cabbage and similar
plants and can thus be used to dis
tribute equally and to hold poison oa
the foliage. In preparing a stock solu
tion of this mixture the directions
must be very carefully followed. It If
made as follows: Pulverised resin, five
pounds: concentrated lye, one pound!
fish oil or any cheap animal oil except
tallow, one pint; water, five gallons.
In an Iron kettle put one gallon ot
water, the tlsh oil and resin, and heat
until the resin Is softened. Prepare
, the lye according to directions on tbe
can, pour into the kettle and mix It
thoroughly with the oil and resin. Add
four gallons of water, and boll until
the mixture will unite with cold wa
ter, giving a clear, amber colored
uld. It will take about two hours.
Add suiUclent boiling water to make
five gallons of the stock solution.
For spraying take one gallon of the
above solution, add 10 gallons of water,
then add three gallons of whitewash or
milk of lime. This is now really a liq
uid holding In suspension the minutest
particles of hard soap. Add foftriK
ounces of paris green. It Is with
particles of hard soap that ti»e-par*3
tides of poison are united, and thus-s?
tbe poison is equally distributed
throughout tbe solution. When this
soapy mixture Is sprayed on the cab
bage, It spreads Into a thin film which
holds the V>lson wherever pie spray
reaches tlio,le«.voa. Apply this Jnst as
soon as the' worms appear and repeat
whenever necessary to bold them in
check. This applies to cauliflower,
turnips, etc., as well as to cabbage.
Do not use this mixture after the
cabbage heads are two-thirds grown or
after the "flower" of tbe cauliflower is
exposed for fear of rendering them
dangerous for food, is the caution with
which the Utah station concludes the
foregoing advice.
Tbe World's Wheat Crop.
The statistician of the United Btate#
department of agriculture has issued
a statement showing the wheat crop
of the world for the flvo years, 1893 to
1800.
Commercial interest in this state
ment naturally centers In the crop of
which a portion still remains In the
bands of producers and dealers, the
crop of 1800. The aggregate wortd'B
production in 1800 amounted to 2,725,-
407,000 bushels, a decrease of 105,638,
000 bushels, or a little less than 7 per
cent from the crop of 1808; but, com
pared with the average of the four
preceding years, 1803 to 1808—a com
parison which is obviously more satis
factory—the 1890 production shows an
Increase of nearly C 1-3 per cent, or,
expressed In quantity, of 161,838.000
bushels. The Increase from year to
year in the amount consumed, a fact
that Is universally conceded, has doubt
less so enlarged the absorptive ca
pacity of the markets that last year's
crop may pnn'b no more than, sutficieat
for consumption and necessary re
serves.
The variation in the quantity of
wheat produced on each continent In
1809 from the quantity produced on the
same continents in 1898 was as fol
lows:
Dusbela
North America (decrease til 196,03^000
Europe (decrease In 1836) 80,164,000
Asia (decrease in 1890). '®*s"2s!
Africa (decrease In 16SW) 10.830,000
South America (increase in 1880) 45,755,000
AOKtralasia (increase in 1880) 21,58 5 l '^l
World (decrease in 1890) I«I,eS*,UOO
Fop a Doceeulen of Peas, Corn, Etc.
One of a number of lists for a suc
cession of peas, etc., given in Rural
New Yorker is Nott's Excelsior, Mc-
Lean's Advancer, Chelsea, Juno; tall
varieties. Prosperity, Telephone, Amer
ican Champion and Champion of Eng
land. Sw«i>t corn. White Oob Cory.
Early Champion, Henaeratm ouo
try Gentleman. Pole wax beans, Gold
en Champion and Early Golden Cluster
Wax; dwarf wax beans, Flageolet Wax
and Improved Golden Wax.
Wuuted a Stone.
"Have I not always been generous
with you in the matter of household
expenses?" he demanded.
"Yes," she replied bitterly. "I ask
ed for a stone and ye gave me bread."
Then he realized that be would have
to get her the diamond she desired bo
fore there would be peace In the fuml
ly.—Chicago Post.
Strategy In the I'alpit.
"How dkl you gather such a large
congregation of old and middle nged
people?" asked the young minister of
the old one.
"I advertised a sermon to the young,-
was the latler's reply.—Chicago News.
i*leu»ure» of Opulence.
Dorothy—Pa, Ido wish we were rich.
Dorothy's Pa— llow rich would yon
like to be?
Dorothy—Oh, awfully rich; rich
enough to snub people and still be call
ed agreeable!— Chicago Record.
A German tailor who died at lires
la u in 1837 had such keen sight that
he was able to see two of Jupiter's
four moons with the naked eye.
Hailstones In India are said to be
from 5 to 20 times larger than those in
England or America-