VOL XXXIX
BICKEL'S
Spring Footwear.
The Largest and Host Complete
Stock We Have Ijjver Had.
MEN'S SHOES.
All the latest styles in Men's Fine Shoes-
A full line of Men's Patent Kid Shoes—tbe latest style lasts, #2.50, #3.00,
$3.50, $5 00 and $8 00. Men's Fine Calf. Vici-kid and Box-calf Shoes, $1 25 to $5.
Large stock of Men's Patent Leather and Vici kid Oxfords in up-to-date styles.
BOYS' AND YOUTHS' SHOES.
Our «tock of Coys' ar.d Youths' Shoes made on the new spring lasts are very
attractive. Fuli of Boys' and Little Gent's Shoes in Patent-kid, Box-calf and
Vici-kid. See our large stock of Boys' and Youths' Fine Patent Leather Oxfords.
LADIES' FINE SHOES.
Them and You Will Buy Them-
Onr stock of L .dim' Fine Shoes ij Complete —Made in all leathers and on the
Utest »ti li iasu —vnogtnK iu price from |IW) to ft.oo.
n THE H:»kO->IS SHOES $3.50.
THE GOLDEN RULE £HOES $3 00.
THE t'ARTEIi COMFORT SirOES #2.00.
See Them, they are Handsome.
Onr line ot Ladies' Patent Leather Oxfords.
jnisses* and cHibDßeN's SHoef>.
jiji: uitl > large stocji of JJisses'. and Fine Shoes and Oxfords—con J
piiaefe Irtnneliy new'and pretty stales for Sprin'g. All sizes—A to EE.
Ail Winter good* to be closed out regardless of cost
f<ar(£p e| ck of Rubber Boots and Shoes to be closed out less than cost.
BARGAINS ON SAM&LE COUNTERS.
JOHIN BICKEL,
RUTLIR, PA.
„ . 5=
ilTSFiAnnual I
I Gnnnifioo C«l« ®
loawmic DttltJ. :
Oiir Seiiil-Aiißuai Sacrißte bale fates Place as tlsaal]
Beginoius Wednesday, Jan. Bth, and contipiiiog ; j
tte entire biodih of January.
The many inquires we are receiving daily asking if we in-| )
tend to h..ve our sale testifies to the popularity of these >
hce Sales among our many patrons who have been benefited byi
attending them in the pa<t. We are anxious to m?Le gale- .
the biggest success of all preyiQiij jjqjp, §hall do so by ( (
ofipijnp ppj gc.ojlj pfjCf? ypjf £9t>npt resist. We canjiotV
cjuotc £l] pricps—oply a few—consequently it wjTJ pay you to*
make us a personal visit ' >
I ) / All Wraps, Suits and Furs. < >
AniflAA I All Wijjjt?, W'»ipj<ers aad Jjresslng Sacques.j i
fYrkV IIIVW I All Millinery—trimmed and untrimmed. 'i I
£ | All Dress Goods, Silks and Satins.
(V / All Muslins, Calicoes and Ginghams.
< a__ m j All Underwear, Hosiery and Qloves,
Vr PIOAC An / A'l Lacvs. itwbio!deiies<* Dress Trimmings. ( )
Wl I will All Slankets—woolen aud cotton. i. ►
1 i All Lace Curtains and Poitiers. ' '
J . Sanifice prices for cash only. Come early to secure first choice., .
'Sale begins WEDNESDAY, JANUARY Bth, 1902. ' '
|Mrs. J E. Zimmerman. |
100 Overcoats
Sizes 16 to 42,
A.t Half Price.
We have placed the above umber of
Overcoats on our counters and will sell
them at just one-half the original price.
We do just exactly as we advertise.
Stop into our store and see for yourself.
Yours for Clothing,
DOUTH6TT &GRAHA^I.
KECK
$ Q Fall and Winter Weights
i f\ Hi Have«nattinesa about tbem tbat
'•», V IJ- • JlfAk / ' re mark the'.wearer, it won't do to
f* k JK) /J t tjl wear the last year's output. You
/ >1 V**J \ft won't get the latest things at the
P/ vit P? 1 R stock clothiers either. The up-to
if \*\ U yffl f-* date tailor only tan supply them, g
« 1 fyv. . ulf O y° u want not on 'y " ie ' atest (J
\ I / il //Til I things in cut nnd fit and worlt-
II I 11 flf If I nionship, the finest in durability,
11 I Jp ]]l 11 I where e'se can you get combina
' I 111 l Hill V tions, you get them at
KECK
G. F. KECK/ Merchant-Tailor,
41 North Maim Street All Work Guaranteed. Butler,Pa
Subscribe for the CITIZEN
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
S preserves and pickles, spread 9
fe a thin coating of • S
I PURE REFINED 1
| PARAFFIN E |
51 Will keep them absolutely moisture and B
|g\ acid proof. Pure Refined Parafflne is also Bp
H useful in a dozen other ways about the H|
QS boose. Full directions In aach package. V
Sold everywhere. S
Nasal
CATARRH Bi&m
Ely'sC
cleanses, soothes and heals I M
the diseased membrane. !<**"*<. 1
It cures catarrh and drives M
away a cold In the head
qnicklv,
V'renm Balm Is placed into the nostrils, spreads
gver the membrane and is absorbed. Relief is im
mediate and a care follows. It is not drying—does
not produce sneezing. Large Size, 50 cents at Drug
gists or by mail; Trial Size, 10 cent*
F<| Johnston's
Beef, Iron and Wine
vi lhe
Ffl Best Totjir
fcl ana
r M Purifier. kl
Tree, 50c pint.
f.srand and W2
I" ti
A Johnstons H
>1 Crystal N
N Pharmacy. >1
H U
IP J W. M. LOGAN, Ph. G . kW
[ V Manager. B j
9 A IW N. Main St.. Butler. Ph k 1
v Both ' Phones V J
P2 Everything in the k*f
kl drug line. » A
111
New Liver" Barn
W. J. Black
Is doing business in liis new barn
which Clarence Walker erected
lor him. All boarders and team
steis guarranteed good attention*
Barn just across the street from
Hotel Butler.
He has room for fifty horses.
People's Phone. No. 250.
Eyes Examined Free of Charge
R. L. KIRKPATRICK.
Jeweler and Graduate Optician
T)->or to Ocnrt Hot-.*?, PB.
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 Dye Works
216 Center avenue-
do fine work in out
door Photographs. This is the
time of year to have a picture oi
your house. Give us a trial.
Agent for tbe Jau,eßto<vn Slid nz
Blind Co.—New York.
R. FISHER 4 SON.
A. M BERKIMER,
Funeral Director.
45 S. Main St. Butler PA.
RIITLER PA.. THURSDAY, MARCH 0, lOOli
©♦©♦©♦©♦OSC- O V>4o»©arMKs4©^o
I EQUAL PARTNERS J
'"o f. p. * fO
S By HOWARD FIELDING ||
C> H « 6$
Copyright, 1901, by Charles W. Hooke. *0
« tc*o 10*. c >cio<-c ;^o^o^o^o-rO«>o«oao^o^o¥
H;v'J5
CHAPTER V.
THE PATIENT AT ST. WINIFRED'S.
'^ e T " n '
ifred's with Brenda
ST- Xlr " Barucs -
r-5»S>? F' * Haggerty exerted
Ey A jtf themselves to be en
ytei-talning. By way
ot opeuiaK a °°nver
xs—— sation and showing
that personal interest whieh a lady al
ways appreciates Mr. Barnes mention
ed the singular circumstance that he
liappopeJ to know a man who had seen
Mi:ss Maclaue that afternoon. He won
dered whether Miss Maelane could
guess where It was that this man had
seen her. Upon Brenda's acknowledg
ing that she was unable to solve this
riddle Mi - . Barnes kindly gave ber a
clew.
"If you could remember where you j
were at precisely ten minutes to 3," he :
said, "why, that would settle it."
Breuda smiled at the great astute
pegs pf Mr. Barnes, but she declined to
|fd iuta a review of her movements
that afternoon. Mr. Haggerty then
struck into the conversation with the
remark that it was curious how people
coul.i forget where they had been, and
he instanced the case of a young lady
who had lost an excellent alibi in a
criminal affair through the error of net
taking the nolicj Suto oonriOtenetj
til nil early'stage of the proceedings,
the facts were fresh in her mind.
Brenda suggested that perhaps the
lady did not fully trust the police,
whereupon Mr. Barnes asserted warni
lv that thfij was *iie greatest mlstakfe
ftosslbie to a human being.
"Always trust the police," he said.
"Guilty or innocent, it's the only tiling
fu ' "" I
the H
***"" .^uiKUl
«ie»y enaent that Barnes and Hagger
ty had encountered a mysterious and
formidable obstacle. They were about
to accompany Brenda into the recep
tion room, and she had begun to fear
that they might never leave her while
she remained In the building, but for
some Inscrutable reason they vanished,
and Brenda's last glimpse showed
them obviously crestfallen.
She had been somewhat lightened In
spirits by the absurd comedy played
by these dull witted men. It had end
ed, however, and the real significance
pf the drama again asserted Itself.
The reception room of St. Winifred's
is lofty and bare, and there was a chill
air In it even on that sultry June even
ing. Brenda observed that the place
inspired her two companions with a
vague terror. The maid was seized
with a vi.- ible trembling, and the stal
wart James shifted his heavily shod
feet upon the floor, arousing singular
ly loud echoes that seemed to affect
him unpleasantly.
The attendant who had shown them
in returned after some minutes' ab
sence with two men, one of whom
Brenda had seen in the hall as they en
tered. He was the typical hospital phy-
f—
'/ /' ''
' ' J
"Miss Maclanel" she cried in a weak
voice.
siclan of the popular conception. Bren
da noted only that he wore spectacles
and that his upper lip was very thin
and rigid. In his companion Brenda
was rejoiced to recognize a young doc
tor of her acquaintance, Sumner Ken
dall. She advanced hastily, with ex
tended hand.
"Dr. Kendall." she exclaimed, "I had
no idea you were connected with St
Winifred's. I have come to see Miss
Miller. Is she conscious? What has
she said?"
The physician seemed to be laboring
under considerable embarrassment. He
took Brenda's hand with a quick, nerv
ous movement, and he clasped it hard
er than the forms of polite society per
mit. But he did not meet the young
lady's eye.
"Our patient is conscious," he said.
"She has an excellent chance of recov
ery. Indeed under ordinary circum-
Btanees there would be small cause for
alarm. To our great surprise, we find
that she does not know who Inflicted
the wound. It may be only a lapse of
memory due to shock, but I myself fear
that she will never be able to answer
the question."
"She does not know?" echoed Brenda.
"You must understand," said Ken
flail, "that the assailant stood behind
her. He, whoever it may have been, is
supposed to have entered the room
while Miss Miller was out on the bal
cony. I have had the place accurately
described to me. In the corner of the
room near the eastern window there is
quite a large closet. Perhaps you no
ticed it."
Brenda Inclined her head.
"The assassin may have hidden him
self there," Kendall continued. "Miss
Miller remembers stepping into the
room through that eastern window,
and she knows nothing of what hap
pened between that moment and the
time of her awakening here."
"She will live," said Brenda. "She
will remember some day."
"She can never remember what ih®
Aid not observe," replied KendalL "It
may be that she neither saw nor heard
the assassin. As to the wound, I hard
ly know what to say. The knife enter
ed between the first and second ribs
and passed downward very close to the
body wall. Ordinarily it would be al
most Impossible to inflict such a
wound. The assassin must have been
singularly ignorant of anatomy to
strike downward at such a spot, for the
chances were a thousand to one that
the bony structure would protect the
vital parts. The knife should hav»
cleared the first rib and hit fairly
against the second. Rut it happens that
Miss Miller received an injury on this
precise spot years a;ro, as a result of
which the first rib ig somewhat de
pressed. Thus the murderer was favor
ed by an extraordinary chance. His
idea was, lirst. to escape being seen by
her. and, second, to strike at the front
of the body while standing behind in
order to avoid the blood that must fol
low the blow. Having struck, he un
doubtedly supposed that he had reach
ed the heart, and only a miracle pre
vented. Our ambulance surgeon believ
ed that the wall of the heart was punc
tured and that a clot of blood was stop
ping the wound, as happens once In a
million times. That is not the case. Not
only did the knife miss the heart but
it missed the arteries in a way that on
ly divine Providence can account for.
So the first effusion of blood was not
followed by the fatal drain that might
have been expected. Do 1 make myself
clear?"
"I-understand enough," said Brenda.
"I know that she may recover, and 1
thank God with all my soul."
There was a pause, during which
Kendall's embarrassment, that had
been less noticeable while his mind was
bent upon a description of Eis'.e'a In
jury. once more; Itself. Brenda
K u»i . >c-d that his face was flushed and
his forehead moist, and she was puz
rled.
"Have you told her that I am here?"
6he asked. "Does she to see me?"
"We have liot mentioned It," he re
plied, "but you nPed have no hesita
tion. We have given her a very nice
room." he hurried on. "You'U And
that everytUliitf In the world Is
aonv 'tor her. SUaU we so m'f l
'£h* eth»* —' •'
then came for
ward, nnd Brenda gave him her hand,
though Kendall, in the extremity of his
embarrassment, forgot to utter the
form of presentation.
A straight and long corridor, the
longest, as it seemed to Brenda. that
mortal architect had ever designed, led
rearward to the part of the building in
which Miss Miller had been sequester
ed. Kendall led the way, and his col
league walked behind. For the third
time that day Brenda experienced the
sensation of surrendering her volition.
The hospital became a prison; she was
being marched to some deep cell be
yond the reach of rescue or the light of
day. Then, in a moment, she saw Dr.
Kendall open a door and step back that
she might pass before him.
Brenda's first glance happened to fall
directly upon the face of the patient,
and she cannot truly be said to have
seen anything else In the room. The
bed was only an indistinct splash of
white. The bare walls, the plainly
curtained window, the nurse In profile,
motionless as a figure on tapestry, en
tered Into the feeling, but not into the
view of the scene. She beheld only
that sweet and sad little face, so pret
ty, so maidenly and tender. And the
real essence of this despicable crime,
tho Inconceivable Inhumanity of it,
seemed to speak straight to Brenda's
heart In that language of nature which
Is without words.
Elsie's brown eyes opened wide.
They had been half closed, and she
had been looking at heaven knows
what; nothing In that room surely,
nothing that ever had been anywhere
perhaps. They turned to Brenda with
utter surprise.
"Miss Maclane!" she cried in a weak
voice, but distinct as the tone of a little
1 silver bell. "You have come to see
me! How kind of you!" Then sudden
-1 ly, "Why did you do it?"
Brenda sank upon her knees beside
' the bed and took Elsie's hand.
"lt was an Impulse—a mere impulse,"
she said; "but I am very glad I came.
I am so sorry for you. I am a good
nurse. I have been taught. Will you
let me stay here with you until you are
well?"
Two tears gathered in Elsie's eyes
and gilded slowly down her cheeks.
Her lip quivered like a child's.
"I shan't get well," she said. "I don't
want to."
And then the tears came very fast.
CHAPTER VI.
AN ARGUMENT FOB THE DEEEJT9E.
HEN one Is In the val
-7/W m win ley of the shadow,
LI VALMX/ age and experience
may furnish many
ZJ W W r\ reasons for desiring
VV M t/l to go farther in pref
erence to returning.
'r W As a rule, however,
these reasons are swallowed up in the
'nstinct of living and in the interest
one takes In one's own struggle with
the dark angel. A physician will hear
many people say that they do not
wish to recover, but most of them will
wait until after the danger is over be
fore giving utterance to words which
the supernal powers may take too seri
ously.
Dr. Kendall was not In the least pre
pared to hear such an expression from
this particular patient. He would have
said that she was one who enjoyed
life, every minute of it. Certainly she
was as full of natural vitality as a
young fawn in the woods. Plainly
Brenda was at least as much surprised
as Kendall, and the physician awaited
her response with critical interest. If
she should ask an explanation or offer
an argument, it would Blow that she
had not the instinct of the nurse. It
was in the nature of an exafntnatlco,
and Brenda passed it with great credit.
"If you will tell me I may stay," she
said, "I will do something that will
make you feel much better."
"You know that I want you to stay,"
said Elsie. "It was very, very good
of you to come, and I thank you tru
ly."
"Such being the case," replied Bren
da, "I am going to fix your hair. One
moment, while I make myself ready.
And now," she added, "don't move;
not a muscle. See, I can reach It with
out tbe slightest trouble."
And with cool and steady hands she
arranged the brown masses in which
there lurked a strange glow like red
gold in tbe sun. It was cleverly done.
Elsie felt the caressing hands, but they
were so deft that not a tremor reached
the wound. Dr. Kendall, observing
closely, nodded his head as one who
considers a question satisfactorily set
tled.
"Such beautiful hair!" said Brenda.
"You must be very vain of it."
But Elsie averred that she did not
care for dark hair; It was so common-
She would much rather have Brenda's.
"The entente cordiale Is now fully es
tablished," said Kendall. "Miss Mac
lane, the patient Is iu your hands. I
shall expect her to be playing golf in
about a week. It won't be necessary
for you to assist me any furiher. Dr.
Johnson," he continued, addressing his
colleague. "I will Join you ifl my
room."
Dr. Johnson bowed and withdrew.
Dr. Kendall took a seat by the bed,
and without appearing to do anything
particularly Important he determined
with great thoroughness the condition
of his patient. Not all that he observed
would be comprehensible by a layman.
The most conspicuous feature in the
case was the improvement of Elsie's
spirits. She spoke cheerfully t«> Bren
da and seemed to have acquired in so
short a time a certain dependence up
on her. Then, almost as she was speak
ing, her eyes closed, her hands upon
the white coverlet relaxed, and she fell
asleep.
Kendall and Brenda watched her In
silence for a momeut while the profes
sional nurse, who had remained in at
tendance, adjusted the shades upon the
electric lights.
"While she sleeps." whispered Bren
da, "1 would like to telephone to my
father. Dr. Johnson told me that Mr.
Alden is probably still held at the sta
tion. He must lie or he would be here.
My father must try to secure his re
lease. By the way, of coutve Miss Mil
ler asked for bimV"
"For Mr. Alden? Ves," replied Ken
dall.
"What did you tell her?"
"We said lhat he had sent all sorts of
kiud messages and that he received
constant « ports from 11s, but that she
must not ass to see him before tomor
row."
"Did she plead to see him at once?"
asked Brenda.
Kendall hesitated for a rooaient while
they w*re silently out of the
room.
"Miss Miller is a very obedient pa
tient." he said. "No one could give
less trouble."
"Well?" rejUued Brenda. "Please
proceed."
"1 don't quite understand."
"Vou have something more to say."
"It occurred to trie," Kendall
slowly, "that sihe exhibited less auxie
ty U> *ep Air. luan »■»•---"
fespeoteri " .ouid have
This statement seemed to furnish
Brenda with abundant food for
thought. She said nothing as they
traversed the long corridor, and Ken
dall also was silent. After Brenda
had sent the message to her father
she conferred with Kendall in regard
to her remaining in the hospital as
Elsie's nurse and then dispatched ber
maid under James' escort for such
things as she would need.
Tbe departure of the servants left
Brenda and Kendall alone in the re
ception room.
"1 wish you would tell me more
about Miss Miller," said she. "I can
not understand why she should not
have wished to see Mr. Aides."
"I did not say that." responded Ken
dall. "It was her manner that struck
me as peculiar."
"She seems as unaffected and Impul
sive as a child," said Breuda. "I can
imagine her asking for Mr. A'den as
naturally as If he had been a drink of
r.-ater."
"That Is precisely what she did not
do," said the doctor. "Let me tell you
just what happened. When she was
brought to the hospital, she was un
conscious. For certain reasons we
took her to the room where she now
is, though that would not have been
the ordinary course. While I was
making my first examination of the
wound she began to revive, aud I be
lieve that she regained the full com
mand of ber faculties within a few
minutes. It is not always possible to
say just when a patient's mind be
comes effectually clear, but I am per
fectly sure that Miss Miller's was wide
awake some little time before she
chose to let that fact appear.
"You must remember that we over
estimated the gravity of the wound
and indeed were expecting the worst
at any moment. Considering the na
ture of the casn it was important to
question her immediately. I asked
her who had inflicted the injury, and
I know that she heard and understood
me as well as you do now, but she
made no sign. After her first view of
the place, which she must hflve recog
nized as a room in a hospital, she
closed her eyes, and I think It must
have been a matter of five minutes
before she opened them."
"Thinking," said Brenda, "thinking,
thinking. Poor child!"
"Though she is obviously abnormally
sensitive to pain." Kendall continued,
"she bore what had to be done with the
fortitude of a Christian martyr. I
made up my mind after awhile that a
miracle had protsrted her and that shs
had a chance to survive; therefore I
ceased to ask questions, deciding to let
her take her own time. When she
spoke, it was not in reply to me, and
she seemed to address no one. 'I am
going to die,' she said, and then she be-
J
Kendall and IJrcnda ivatchcd her in si
lence for a moment.
gan to cry very softly, as you saw her
a few minutes ago. 1 replied that 1 did
not think so. but she shook her head,
murmuring something about the grief
of her mother, who could not come in
time to see her. 1 asked for her moth
er's address aud was Informed by a
police sergeant who had just been ad
mitted to the room, coming under or
ders from Captain N'eaie, that Mrs.
Simmons, the landlady, had telegraph
ed to Mrs. Miller.
"The sergeant then came lumbering
up to the side o." tbe bed armed with a
notebook and a pencil. Without wait
ing for him to put a single question
Miss Miller told her story of the crime
as 1 told it to you. Stv had stepped
out upon the veranda aud had almost
iinmeu ately re-entered the room by
the ea- tern window. She neither saw
nor hi ard any one. Beyond a confused
memory ol a sharp at'J terrible pang,
sutVcn. unexpected and probably mean
ingkas. because the mind Is darkened
before it can comprehend, she can re
call notblug. There was very little for
the sergeant to put down in hia note
book."
"Did he believe her?" asked Brenda.
"Ves; I thiuk the sergeant did," re
plied Kendall, with a slight emphasis
on the noun. "At least the only indica
tion of doubt he gave me was to ask
me in the corridor afterward whether
the wound could have been self inflict
ed. 1 told him to dismiss the idea, and
he seemed to have no difficulty in do
ing so. It is not, at the first glance, a
physical Impossibility, but practically
it is precisely that."
"Suppose she should say that she did
it," said Brenda.
"With apologies to Miss Miller," re
sponded Kendall, "I must tell you that
thar would not affect my opinion In
the least. If she has any desire to
shield the guilty, she cannot do it in
that way."
Brenda's keen grey eyes searched tbe
physician's face.
"Do you believe that?" she demanded.
"Frankly." said Kendall, "my opin
ion is that Miss Miller knows perfectly
well who did this deed."
"And her motive for concealment?"
"1 leave that to ber own heart," was
the reply. "Yet it would seem that
there could be but one."
"A motive of the heart," said Brenda.
"Do you realize that this amounts to
au accusation?"
"Then let us not speak of it any
more." said Kendall. "Let us get back
to Mr. Alden."
"We have already done so," she said;
but the doctor would not be drawn
Into such an admission.
"After the police officer had gone,"
he resumed. "Miss Miller asked me
whether a note addressed to her ha(J
been found in her room. I answered
yes, and then she Inquired whether
Mr. Allien had been Informed of her
misfortune faring to excite her, I
substituted for the truth the fiction
that I just outlined to you, and my
poor little patient merely sighed. Bhe
did not ask when she could see Mr.
AKleu nor mention his name again
in any connection."
"From which you infer"—
"Nothing wlMUewv. 1 " insisted Kee
■ You uei triw* - „ ~ ,
lioi w<*» - - " ,e - 811,(1 Bren(la '
...out bitterness. "You believe
Mr. Alden guilty of this frightful crime,
and you date not say so In my pres
ence fot fear that I may not be dis
creet and you may be put into an un
pleasant position."
"1 could scarcely be put Into a posi
tion more unpleasant than this one,"
said Kendall earnestly. "1 want to
tell you the exact truth about—about
everything that 1 know or Imagine,
and it is deadly hard to do it when
you look at me as if I were an enemy.
This Is as near as 1 can come to an
accurate expression: Miss Miller's man
ner convinces me that she Is shielding
the assassin, and there is no known
reason why she should shield any one
else than Mr. Alden."
"But why not take the perfectly easy
alternative that she is telling the
truth?"
"I will," said Kendall, "if you wish
me to."
"I am very serious," said Brenda.
"This Is a promise you are making?"
"It is," replied Kendall, his face
flushed and his voice not quite steady.
"It is my word of honor given to you,
and so twice sacred as the word of
r friend," he added. "You were good
enough to say that we were friends
two years ago."
"I have better cause to say It now,"
she replied. "Let me hasten to prove
my sincerity in the usual way, by bur
dening you with a confidence. You
must be wondering at me."
"Why?"
"Because I am here."
"It is a fine thing," said Kendall
earnestly. "So much I know."
"I will tell you more," rejoined
Brenda, "and it will make you think
better of Mr. Alden. This tragedy of
today is a revelation to me, but not of
the kind that you suppose. Mr. Alden
had not concealed from me that his
heart had been won away, but I did
not understand. He told me of Miss
Miller's existence two months ago, but
I would not hear all he wished to say.
He intimated that he had begun to re
gard her with feelings that made his
engagement to me dishonorable. I
viewed him with pity," and Brenda
laughed very softly and without mirth.
"I was so incredibly Ignorant of every
thing outside my own sphere that I
could not imagine the existence of
such a woman as lies now in that room
out there.
"Clarence said she was an actress,
and he looked at me as a man upon
the defensive. I can see him now. I
pictured a siren, a creature grotesquely
unworthy, appealing to his wild and
reckless nature with thin artificea
that would be clear as glass to him
when he should view them with a dis
passionate eye. Truly, I was only
sorry for him, ashamed of him a little,
yet very anxious to help him. It seem
ed to me that breaking our engage
ment would be the very worst thing
that could happen to him, and so I re
fused to consider the woman at all.
One meets men in society. Dr. Ken
dall, whose well known ways of life
have an unfortunate tendency to per
vert women's Ideas in such matters.
We admit the existence of certain per
sons whom we see in the park with
elegant equipages, but we cannot con
sider them as rivals."
"But surely he spoke of her with
respect," said Kendall.
"Absolute," replied Brenda, "but I
thought him the more a fooL He said
one evening, I remember —and it was
only a very short time ago—that Miss
Miller cared nothing for him and never
would. I was merely convinced by his
sincerity that the woman was playing
a deep game, and I swore by such gods
as I have that I would save him from
her. And so it went on until last even
ing, when he sent me a note which
made it impossible that our engage
ment should continue. It was only a
frank, honest statement that his heart
had passed utterly out of his control.
I can see now that he could have done
no better, but I did not take the right
view at the moment. Perhaps it was
because 1 had heard that day for the
first time that Mr. Alden's engagement
with me was of the highest importance
in his business affairs. If he had al
lowed it to continue for that reason-
But he had not. It was really all my
doing.
"However, to continue, I went to his
office today because I was impatient,
aud 1 told him that the engagement
was at an end. That was in ten words.
And the loss of me. Dr. Kendall, affect
ed him so little. He was obviously so
wrapped In an impenetrable happiness
that T lost my temper for the first time
iu a good many years and cut short the
Interview. Oh, we were perfectly cour
teous to each other, and when we part
ed—most uuromautieally. with an ele
vator man rattling the catch of the
door to make me hurry we shook
hands upon a vow of friendship. But
I was in a shameful rage as I left the
building.
"1 went up town as far as the shop
ping district and wandered aimlessly
In the stores. Then I got upon a street
car, preferring it to the loneliness of a
eab. And so It happened that a news
boy tlirust the story of this crime into
my face. The paper was wet from the
press—printed and upon the street with
in half an hour after the discovery of
the crime. A reporter must have been
right upon the scene by accident and
have rushed to his office immediately.
"Let me confess my own folly. In
the very first instant 1 feared that Mr.
Aldeu might have struck the blow. It
was sheer madness. I was over
wrought by the ercitement of the after
noon. and. remember, I then pictured
Miss Miller as a desperate and schem
ing woman, one whose real nature was
likely to be revealed to Mr. Alden In
an instant by an unguarded word.
What mad scene might follow, who
could say? There might have been
some sort of struggle. She might have
turned the knife against herself, mean
ing to strike him. Impatience smoth
ered me. I must know at once. and.
besides, I had a deadly longing to see
her—to set- the woman who liad wrick
ed a life that was dear to me and lost
her own in dolug It
"My tirst awakening was In her
room. There vans something of herself
In it. Afterward I came here and
hoard thai old uian in the oQice say
'Hi; i hi! 1 -\r.d iln n I saw her, with
li!flt :cr;!.;il:ie surprise, even after such
prep: at: •:! a* I had had. Iler rival?
I ai:» l: i vain. Why did 1 not see
her liefeii'? And the idea that Clar
ence Alt!• • 'i| have lifted his hand
arra'::»i ;• . . i eso t-atin tieally l>eau
t• i": : - '■■■ i :".-t a;:?*, al irresistibly
to a man so strong as lie Is utterly
monstrous. You can't believe It."
"You are nuite right," said Kendall.
"I don't believe It."
|to be continued.)
INDIVIDUALITY OF COWS.
A f'.-ay From LUc With «» Indica
tion. nnil Safucestion.,
What a farmer keeps dairy cows for
Is to make money. He wants to put
in feed aud milk out profit The
scientist can talk about gluten and cot
tonseed, but if these do not make
milk the farmer does not want them,
lucrjktia.
and if be can make milk on anything
cheaper, like hay and corn fodder, be
1s going to do It. Mr. Walter A. Co
nant of the Rhode Island station has
lately been pursuing an untried field
of investigation bearing on this point
in a study of the individuality of dairy
cows. It has seemed to him that cer
tain feeds and certain amounts of feed
have made more milk in the case of
some cows and less milk in the case
of others.
The remarks in bulletin No. 80 on
the peculiarities of temperament and
habits of a dozen cows, separately re
corded and with excellent illustrations
of each animal, have a lively interest
and are likely to set any farmer to
trying for better results In bis own
practice. Two of the cows are here
pictured.
Lucretla is described as a registered
Guernsey cow, dropped Jan. 10, 1892.
Lucretia shows large Intelligence even
for a thoroughbred. Lucretia's dispo
sition at present is all that could be
desired in regard to man. Again, she
Is neutral in the matter of affection
and in regard to brushing and petting,
though a trifle sensitive to carding.
She will quietly domineer over any
smaller cow, seemingly taking pleasure
in keeping her from getting any water
to drink. She is a slow drinker, but
dislikes cold water. She prefers to lap
her water unless very thirsty. She
rarely eats fine salt, nor does she lick
rock salt freely. Lucretia is so sensi
tive as to shrink in milk if any one
talks to the man who is milking her.
Lucretia is a ready eater of hay and
takes to corn fodder, though not show
ing eagerness for either. The effort to
keep Lucretia from fattening was a
failure.
Rotha is a registered Guernsey cow,
dropped Marcn 21, 1894. Rotha shows
the dairy temperament Though ex
tremely nervous, she is not rendered
so by external circumstances, for they
do not seem to trouble her. She is
not affectionate with man and does not
care to be petted or brushed and is
quite sensitive when carded. She is
a keen trickster. She lies in wait, in
conjunction with Lucretia, in the yard
about the watering tub to punch the
weaker cows. She is more ugly with
the other cows than Lucretia and
more tricky with man, though she Is
not Intractable and never toward man
a kicker or hooker. She eats but little
salt. She is n good, deep and ready
drinker, not stopping to lap or mind
ing the temperature of the water. She
takes to hay and corn fodder well.
Where it is practicable Mr. Conant
recommends as economical feeding,
except on farms where grain is grown
in large quantities and is cheap, to
give hay and fodder first water
promptly and fully and afterward feed
the amount of grain (concentrates rich
lu protein) that experience with each
individual cow proves will make the
largest yield of milk. The grain can
UOTHA.
be varied until the exact amount and
ISU>. IO
kind are fiord that will make ecc-h cr>-tf
give the rno.*t milk. By feeding liay
arwt -too Je- lirst and taking pains to
that each cow is fed all that she
will cat clean the necessary amounts
of iiirestiUle dry matter, carbohydrates
and fats are supplied from material
rrised on the farm and the cow
the fnll beneOt of the digestible pro
tein !n the that has to be boivjht
aud paid tor with ready money. The
feed cf each of the twelve cows and
its result up n the milk are noted In
the bullctiu.
A HARD PROPOSITION
SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION OF THE
FOURTH DIMENSION.
To the Lay Mind It Woold Appear at
Thoogh This Measure of Space
Were the Ability to Disappear
Through Stone Walls.
Suppose a world consisting of a
boundless flat plane to be inhabited
by reasoning beings who can move
about at pleasure on the plane, but are
not able to turn their beads up or
down or even to see or think of such
terms as above them and below them,
and things around them can be push
ed or pulled about in any direction, but
cannot be lifted from the plane. Peo
ple and things can pass around each
other, but cannot step over anything.
These dwellers in "flatland" could con
struct a plane geometry which would
be exactly like ours in being based on
the axioms of Euclid. Two parallel
straight lines would never meet, though
continued indefinitely.
But suppose that the surface on
which these beings live, Instead of be
ing aa Infinitely extended plane, is
really the surface of an Immense globe*
like the earth on which we live. It
needs no knowledge of geometry, but
only an examination of any globular
object—an apple, for example—to show
that If we draw a line as straight as
p;)! slble on a sphere and parallel to it
draw a small piece of a second line.
:> nd continue this in as straight a line
as we can, the two lines will meet
when wo proceed in either direction
one-fjuarter of the way around the
sphere. For our "flatland" people these
lines would both be perfectly straight
because the only curvature would be
In the direction downward, which they
could never either perceive or discover.
To explain bypergeometry proper we
must first set forth what a fourth di
mension of space means and show how
natural the way by which it may be
approached. We continue our analo
gy from "flatland." In this supposed
land let us make a cross—two straight
lines intersecting at right angles. The
Inhabitants of this land understand
the cross perfectly and conceive of it
I Just as we do. But let us ask them to
draw a third line intersecting the same
•point and perpendicular to both the
other lines. They would at once pro
nounce this absurd and Impossible. It
is equally absurd and impossible to us
If we require the third line to be
drawn on the paper. But we would re
ply, "If you allow us to leave the paper
•or flat surface, then we can solve the
problem by simply drawing the third
line through the paper perpendicular
to its surface."
Now, to pursue the analogy, suppose
that after we have drawn three mutu
ally perpendicular lines some being
from another sphere proposes to us the
drawing of a fourth line through the
same point perpendicular-to all three
of the lines already there. We should
answer him in the same way that the
inhabitants of "flatland" answered us:
"The problem is impossible. You can
not draw any such line In space as we
understand it" If our visitor conceived
of the fourth dimension, he would re
ply to us as we replied to the "flat
land" people: "The problem is absurd
and Impossible if you confine your line
to space as you understand It But for
me there is a fourth dimension in
space. Draw your line through that di
mension, and the problem will be solv
ed. This is perfectly simple to me; it is
impossible to you solely because your
conceptions do not admit of more than
three dimensions."
Supposing the inhabitants of "flat
land" to be Intellectual beings as we
are, it would be interesting to them to
be told what dwellers of space in three
dimensions could do. Let us pursue the
analogy by showing what dwellers in
four dimensions might do. Place a
dweller of "flatland" inside a circle
drawn on his plane and ask him to
step outside of it without breaking
through it He would go all around,
and, finding every inch of It closed, he
would say It was impossible from the
very nature of the conditions. "But,"
we would reply, "that is because of
your limited conceptions. We can step
over It"
"Step over it!" he would exclaim. "I
do not know what that means. I can
pass around anything if there is a way
open, but I cannot imagine what you
mean by stepping over it"
But we should simply step over the
line and reappear on the other side.
So if we confine a being able to move
In a fourth dimension in-the walls of a
dungeon of which the sides, the floor
and the celling were all impenetrable
he would step outside of it without
touching any part of the building Just
as easily as we could step over a cir
cle drawn on the plane without touch
ing it He would simply disappear
from our view like a spirit and perhaps
reappear the next moment outside the
prison. To do this he would have to
make a little excursion in the fourth
dimension. —Professor Simon Newcomb
in Harper's Magazine.
Hli Maiden Name.
It is sald that at certain seasons in
Scotland when the fishing is not very
brisk the fishermen act as caddies and
are easily recognized by their costume,
a woolen Jersey and trousers braced up
to the armpits. One of these was asked
his name by the gentleman for whom
he was carrying, and the reply was,
"Weel, sir. hereabouts they malstly ca'
me Breeks, but ma maiden name is
Broon."
HI. Early Lore A«alr.
May—l wonder why Reggie never
married.
Jack—He had a love affair when
quite young and has never got over it
May—Who was the object of his af
fections?
Jack—Himself.—Harlem Life.
Function, of Fruit.
The Medicine Brief thus summarizes
the various uses of fruit In relieving
diseased conditions of the body. The
list is worth keeping: Under the cate
gory of laxatives, oranges, figs, tama
rinds, prunes, mulberries, dates, nec
tarines and plums may be Included.
Pomegranates, cranberries, blackber
ries, sumac berries, dewberries, rasp
berries, barberries, quinces, pears, wild
cherries and medlars are astringents.
Grapes, peaches, strawberries, ■whortle
berries, prickly pears, black currants
and melon seeds are diuretics. Goose
berries, red aud white currants, pump
kins and melons are refrigerants. Lem
ons, limes and apples are stomachic se
datives.