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-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers