VOL XXXIX
M There. Isn't ■ I
W There Isn't |f|gj§
' A Man, Woman or Child ,
* * in this town or county that i
* cannot be satisfactorily (to *
n here in my store, and my >
I translation of "satisfactory" \
H Goods and service W
li $0 good, price so n
l| reasonable, there's
| K Huselton's. e |
BICKEL'S •
Spring Footwear.
The Largest and Most Complete
Stock We Have Ever Had.
MEN'S SHOES.
All the latest styles in Men's Fine Shoes
A fall line of Men's Patent Kid Shoes- the latest style lasts, *2.50, 13-00,
|S SO |6 00 and |6.00. Men's Pine Calf, Vici-kid and Box-calf Shoes, $1 -•> to |o.
Large sto<A of Men's Patent Leather and Vici kid Oxfords in np-to-date styles.
BOYS' AND YOUTHS' SHOES.
Oor stock of Boys' and Yonths' Shoes mad« on the new spring lasts are very
attractive. Fnll stock of Boys' and Little Gent's Shoes in Patent-kid, Box-calf and
Vici-kid. See onr large stock of Boys' and Youths' Fine Patent Leather Oxfords.
LADIES' FINE SHOES.
f See Chem and You Will Buy Them-
Onr stock of Ladies' Fine Shoes is Complete -Made in all leathers and on the
latest style lasts —ranging in price from SI.OO to |4.00.
THE SOROS 18 SHOES $3.50.
THE GOLDEN RULE SHOES $8 00.
THE CABTER COMFORT SHOES $2.00.
See Them, they are Handsome.
Onr line ot Ladies' Patent Leather Oxfords.
fllisses' AND CHIfcDReN'S SHOGS.
Extremely large stock of Mieses' and Children's Fine Shoes and Oxfords —conij
prised of many new and pretty styles for Spring. All sizes—A to EE.
All Winter goods to be closed out regardless of cost
Large stock of Rubber Boots and Shoes to be closed out less than cost.
SPECIAL BARGAINS ON SAMPLE COUNTERS.
JOHN BICKEL,
BUTLER, PA.
AT THE TOP OF STYLE!
WE ARE R€ADy WITH OUR fcINE OF
| , Spring Clothing
The styles were chosen with critical discrimination and our mag
nificent display represents the best selections from the"leading makers.
We Want More Men and Boys
To Know Our Clothing
We want more Men and Boys to see it. The better they know
our clothing the more they will be astounded and delighted by its
qualities, styles and all round excellence.
We are willing to rest our case on the goods themselves. Let
them do the talking.
Satisfactiun Guaranteed or Money Refunded.
Schaul & Nast,
LEADIN6 CLOTHIERS AND FURNISHERS,
137 South Main St., Butler.
KECK
j||> £| Fall and Winter Weights
f* I /-m Have a nattiness about them that J]
rl (J k n*H /i U mark the wearer, it won't do to
~J \hl (d[ fe\ wear the last year's output. You
f fV-tfy lA won't get the latest things at the
, py *3 stock clothiers either. The up-to-
V HI 1 IV /"i date tailor only tan supply them,
I 7Vv 'i rylfi (, if you want not only the latest (J
fill (If I I things in cut and fit and work
i 111 ill I monship, the finest in durability,
1 J 1// 11 I where elite can you get combina
t I UJ II 9 tions, you get them at
K E C K
G. F. KECK, Merchant-Tailor,
*2 North Main Street All Work Guaranteed ~ Butler,Pa
... ...
Try The CITIZEN
j FOR
JOB WORK
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
R*in and aweit \ \ \ \ H
have no effect on M,w fwp W?TtT]k ■
barnrt* treated M tJ ft F M\ /!» fl
with Eureka Har- g 1 M
nes> Oil. It re- * . -g
situ the damp. ri..\ \. M
HARNESS I
able. Stitches JM \ " ■
do sot break. \ \ 'S\ „ SB
No roughsur- \ \\\ Mlffy . 3
(ace to chafe . \ f §lLf\ \ ■
and cut. The kVV%, V \\\ ■
harness not iA*. *. \A \ \ \
only keeps
locking lik« ITB>. ( \t £
wears twice \, ffj . V,
as loneby the o>L„—l
use of Eureka V _ I
"canli"® /j/\\
alt sizes. (V* X 1/ \ '■
Made by !/\
Standard Oil \ \ W \
Company ££ " »
Nasal /gSysN.
CATARRH
In all IU stages. /P;^J?. jj^D#
Ely's Cream Baling mt "|#
cleanaes, soothes and heals f a
the diseased membrane.
It coreacatarrh and drives M
away a cold in the head
quickly.
Cream Balm is placed into the nostrils, spreads
over the membrane and is absorbed. Relief is im
mediate and a cure folicws. It is not drying—does
not produce sneezing. Large Size, 50 cents at Drug
gists or by mail; Trial Size, 10 cents.
f Johnston's
r Beef. Iron and Wine
I is the nA
Best Tonic j
I and F £
4 Blood Purifier. n J
> Price, 50c piut. rJ
Prepared and W A
sold only at « k
! .\i
a Johnston s
| Crystal [<
4 Pharmacy. ►J
> R. M. LOGAN, Ph. G.,
t Manager, w J
r Both 'Phones • V J
' Everything in the fcT
> drug line. r J
.: 14
LsJ
1> dl sStS. V. A
want
'»-/ W ever y
reader
th*
A f /f** / advertis
ment
l°p
at our store for a
Free Sample
Mennen's Talcum
The best powder for the toilet, for the
baby and for chaped and roughened
skins.
We carry a full line of household
drugs and toilet articles. You will find
our prices lower than most.
Try us with your next prescription.
Reed's Pharmacy
Cor. Maiu and Jefferson Sts. , Butler, Pa
WALL PAPERS were never so
pretty in color ana design as they are
this seasoji.
A wall well papered is a thing of beauty,
it gives tone anrl finish to an apartment
which is obtained in no other way.
Everything in the latest and best desigus
of the best manufacturers are bere at
pttces that you can't match. Come in
and look over our large stock before you
buy. We can please you,
Picture Framing i Specially.
Patterson Bros.,
336 N. Main St.
Wick Building,
Phone 400.
p >\ L. McQUISTION,
V. Civil, ENGINEER AND SURVEYOR.
Office aw Qourt House.
RUTLKH, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 27, IPO2
ipAiiAi PAsrrNFRS i
<% V c"
•■ > V. » * ££
8 By HOWARD FIELDING
ax
Copyright, 1901, by Charles W. Hooke.
CHAPTER X.
"CLA KE.NCE."
T DI- N looked years
<Z\tm w younger than yester
-5)/ j~-r day. His expression
Vi» aXSk had lost much of its
<\ r?£:'\ \ painful concentration
!»vv. nt, d intensity, though
11 shrewd man might
' J—iJ ga y [ le was still under
the domination of a single thought.
"Such splendid news at the hospi
tal." said he. "that I ventured down
here for a few minutes. I can see her
this afternoon. Jnck," he added, ad
dressing Robinson. "you'll have to loos
out for my mail for the nest few days.
I shall be at St. Winifred's all the
time, or at the house next door on the
wes*. Any t»-ws this morning. Mr.
Elmendorf?"
"No." replied the detective. "1 came
down to have a little talk with Mr.
Robinson, but as neitliei of us Knows
anything the result was not important.
By the way. can 1 write a note at your
desk?"
Alden was just raising the lid.
"Certainly." said he, and Elmendorf
sat down and wrote fast with a sput
tering pen.
"I don't s£e any blotter here," he
said, when the pen stopped scratching.
"Never use one," rejoined Alden; *1
don't have time. There's a pad, but I
never blot anything on it."
"You don't spill as much ink as 1 do,"
said Elmendorf. "except on your signa
ture. You write that black enough."
» "Habit of mine," replied Alden.
"How do you happen to know anything
about it?"
"1 saw the note you wrote yester
day."
Alden flushed.
"I couldn't help it," said Elmendorf
hastily. "And let me tell you that I'm
greatly mistaken if the result of my
Beeing it isn't very important."
"In what way?"
Elmendorf begged to be excused from
giving an immediate answer, and Al
den did uot insist.
"This 'making trouble' that you men
tioned last x evening," he said, "is get
ting its .work in this morning. 1 am
shadowed by the most conspicuous
man in Greater New York. Every
time he fancies that 1 have forgotten
his presence he barks like a dog and
remarks to every one who will listen
that the grip Is worst In hot weather."
Elmendorf glanced at Alden with an
anxious eye. He seemed to have some
thing on his mind, but he said only:
"I'm surprised. There are shadows on
the force who can't be picked out so
easily."
Alden regarded him Intently over the
top of the desk upon which ho was
leaning.
"See If I've got any more letters out
side, Jack," he said and added when
Robinson had left the room, "Do you
mean to say there's another one?"
"Sure." returned Elmendorf, "one
for trouble and one for business. 1
don't know why I tell you these things,
except that I hate Neale. He wants to
know where you were yesterday, and
he thinks you'll go there again. He ex
pects you to throw the man with th
grip and never notice the other one."
"I'll remember this, Elmeudorf," said
Alden.
"It's a gift," replied the detective.
"As for that, you've paid me already
with the information that you don't
use a blotter. Good morning. I'll see
you later in the day."
It may have been about half an hour
afterward when he presented himself
at the house where John Robjnson
lived and introduced himself to the
landlady thereof, with the result that
he was presently ushered up two
flights of stairs to a large room at the
rear of the house. Left alone there, he
remarked to himself, "This doesn't
seem to go against me so much as It
usually does."
Then he proceeded to examlue the
personal effects of Mr. Robinson. The
examination was thorough, but the
product was singularly meager. He
discovered an envelope containing
some pawnbroker's tickets, showing
loans upon a watch, a winter overcoat
and a ring of small value, and in a
waste paper basket a part of an envel
ope which had beeji addressed to some
person In Philadelphia, but the name
was missing. Remembering that Rob
inson had thought of Philadelphia first
when groping about for a falsehood,
the latter discovery assumed some little
Importance as a guide for subsequent
Investigation.
The particular object of the detect
ive's search eluded him, however, aud
when he left the house he was fur
from satisfied with his luck.
"I thought I knew why Robinson
went home," he said, "but either I
didn't or he changed his mind."
He spent some hours in verifying
Robinson's statement about the place
where he had passed the night and In
attempting to ascertain the young
man's favorite haunts-and the names
of his The verification
was easy, but the search for the man's
associates yielded little. Apparently
Robinson had not a wide circle of ac
quaintances.
Returning to the lower regions of the
city, Elmendorf encountered a bit of
better fortune In learning that Robin
son had visited his place of employ
ment on the previous day between 5
and (1 o'clock.
"If he's the man," reflected the de
tective, "he took that money home, and
then, not finding a satisfactory place to
hide it, he brought It down here. By
the everlasting, he must have had It in
his pocket right there in Elsie Miller's
room! No wonder he had nervous pros
tration!"
Alden, as was to have been expected,
bad left his office long before Elmen
dorf returned to it. Itobinson also had
gone away, but might come back soon.
By the exercise of a little tact the de
tective secured permission to wait In
the private office, aud while there he
familiarized himself thoroughly with
the contents of Robinson's desk, but It
was not worth the trouble.
It was difficult to suppose that Rob
inson was still carrying that money In
his pocket. lie must have put It some
where. And Elmendorf racked his
brains, asking the conventional and
generally useless question, "What
would I have done In the same cir
cumstances?" It came into his mind
at last that Robinson had been present
when Alden was arrested, and for
this reason would not have expected
to see him at the office again 1111 me
diately. Thus reflecting, Bime»dor£
drew some keys of convenient design
from his pocket and cautiously raised
Hie lid or Alden's desk. It was fairly
tlear on its working surface and the
pigeonholes did not look promising, so
It random Elmendorf opened a little
drawer i:i which, under >v>me papers
which seemed to have lain there a long
time, lie found an envelope addressed
lu typewritten characters to Johu Uob
iuson.
The envelope looked fresh and the
papers on top of it did not. Tiie infer
ence that the thing had been slid Into
a little used drawer and under tUose
old documents for purposes of conceal
ment was as easy as possible. Elmen
dorf closed the drawer and the lid of
the desk aud walked to the window
with the envelope In his hand. It
looked suspicious, and the detective
gently murmured that he would
"chance it."
With the thin blade of a penknife he
very adroitly raised the gummed lap
pet without inflicting any injury
which could not be repaired. The en
velope . contained five. SIOO bills
wrapped in a blank sheet of the firm's
paper.
Despite the coincidence of amounts,
this was uot necessarily the money
mentioned in Alden's note to Elsie. If,
for instance, Mr. Robinson should say
that he had frugally laid by that sum,
and had thought his employer's desk
the safest place for It. the statement
would be equally hard to believe or to
disprove. For Ibis reason Elmendorf
scrutinized the bills with an eager eye,
and when he found upon one of them
a peculiar mark, as if 1 a word of a
strange language had been scrawled
there, he was more than pleased.
Raising the lower sash of the window,
he made a mirror of the glass by hold
ing the cuff of his black coat against
IL Placing the bill before this mirror,
he beheld the strange word reversed,
and It became legible as "Clarence."
"The signature was blotted against
tlfe money," said he. "It couldn't be
anything else. The bills were folded
into the note while the signature was
wet. and of course It printed Itself on
one of them."
If Robinson had entered the room at
that moment, he would have been ar
rested for attempted murder, but he
did not come In. Whether this was his
luck or ElmendoiTs may be hard to de
termine.
The detective sat down by Alden's
desk, holding the money in his band.
His face wore a look of triumph, but it
was not pleasant to see, for the resent
ment which this crime bad inspired in
him was burning in his heart. He w"hs
not the hunter who does a day's work
In the woods and counts his gains with
dull Interest at uigS.t. He was the msn
who has caught the wolf that killed the
pet lamb. '
But there came a slow change upon
him. His face was puckered around the
eyes, and his lower lip got between his
4eeth. Presently with a b»sty hand he
scribbled upon a sheet of paper this
sentence:
For further particulars Inquire of William El
mendorf. New York detective bureau, 300 Mul
berry street.
This message he inclosed instead of
the money in the envelope, which he
carefully resealed. Ue held It balanced
upon two fingers for a moment, eying
It critically. Then he replaced It In the
drawer under the papers.
The knife with which he had opened
the envelope was lying open upon the
desk. He picked it up, pulled down
the desk's lid and drew out one of the
sliding leaves, upon which he beat out
a gentle tune with the point of the
knife blade. He had worn a little hole
in the wood without lieiug aware of it,
when ho heard Robinson's voice just
outside the door.
Elmendorf suddenly gripped the knife
hard and set the point upon the back
of his left hand. Then with a bit of a
laugh he shifted the knife to his left
hand and slowly, steadily pressed the
blade down upon the other. This Spar
tan act was accompanied by much
wrinkling of the forehead and a few
hard words softly uttered. When Rob
inson opened the door, the knife was
lvlng on the floor and Elmendorf was
stridlug toward a bowl in the corner.
"Dropped my knife on the back of
my hand," he said. "Sharp blade, and
It went In deep."
Robinson came forward hastily and
viewed the Injured member, from
which a steady stream of blood was
Mowing.
"Bleeds like the deuce!" said be.
•"You must have cut an artery."
Elmendorf looked keeuly at Robin
son, holding his hand meanwhile in a
stream of cold viater.
"It will stop ID half a minute," said
the detective. "If you'll pull my hand
kerchief out of my pocket aud tear off
a couple of strips, we'll tie it up."
Robinson assisted In this operation,
by request, but he was awkward and
nervous and seemed not to relish the
sight of blood. When it was done, El
mendorf tliauked him cordially, asked
a few trivial questions and departed.
Half an hour later he delivered the
five SIOO bills to the chief of the de
tective bureau, with a full report upon
the manner In which they had come
into his possession aud the method by
which he had succeeded In identifying
one of them.
CHAPTER XI.
ST. WXSIF BED'S--MORNING.
HEN the sun had been
j fag w Mr Vt up three hours, it was
f\ IWL mJ/ able to look over a
' ow Portion of St.
\ M Winifred's building
uyH ByjM and see the window
of the foom where El
g)e lay as i ee p The
sudden Increase of light awoke her,
and she found that Brenda was hold
ing both her hands.
"I was afraid you would move too
much and hurt yourself," said she. "I
knew you must wake soon. How do
you feel?"
Elsie winked her eyes and twisted
the left corner of her mouth with the
air of one who is testing a bruise to
see how sore It is.
"There was s girl who felt better
once a long time ago," she said, "but
It doesn't matter. Haven't you been to
bed all this night?"
"I have slept on the couch," replied
Brenda. "My maid brought dowu this
loose gown, and I've been very comfort
able. I have had some things brought
front your house too."
"Did you get my little silver mirror?''
, asked Elsie, with eagerness. "(Jh, how
geed of yew! Jt'kKtim let haru **"
Brenda gave her the mirror, and she
gazed long and Intently into It; then
she sighed and laid down the glass.
"All gone," she said. "Well, that
doesn't matter either. Nothing matters
any more. But I used to think I would
be pretty when I was dead."
"So you will, my dear," answered
Brenda. "You'll have a sweeter, pret
tier face than you have now—the dear
est old grandmother's face, with beau
tiful white curls all around—and the
children who come to kiss you will cry
like a little shower on a May morning,
but they will be better children after
ward, for they will want to live the
life that brings such happy sleep at the
end of it."
"I wish I could say things like that,"
said Eisie. "Even if they aren't true
they make people feel good. I—look
fierce! Don't 1, honestly?"
"Fierce!" echoed Brenda. "Why,
anything else in the world, I should
say."
"That's slang," said Elsie. "It mere
ly means terrible."
"Well, I'd hardly agree to that word
either," said Brenda. "You don't in
spire any terror in me. You're only a
little bit pale, and perhaps you have
cried too much."
"You must think I am a perfect baby.
Really it Isn't so. I have borne some
things in this life fairly well. I would
bear much more and be as happy as
any girl if 1 only knew how. But
there's no way. My life is in a tangle
that cannot be unwound. I just sim
ply can't go on. Brenda. That's what 1
felt when I opened' my eyes in this
room the tirst time and while 1 lay
thinking l>efore i would let Dr. Ken
dal) know 1 was conscious. There is
no way. absolutely no way"—
Her voice began to tremble, but she
resolutely checked the tendency.
"How everything settles down on
you in the morning!" she said. "You
wake so happy. Perhaps you have
dreamed of tiie pleasantest things. 1
almost always dream of people 1 like
and of being with them in the fields or
abroad somewhere in a strange city
and all dressed up in the most wonder
ful clothes, and then the reality be
gins to come down, like—like a great
ball of rags. 1 saw them loading a
barge with rags once—she was along
side a steamer—and I always remem
bered how those dirty, heavy, stifling
bales came down. They were like life."
"Your life hasn't been altogether a
bale of rags, my young friend." said
Brenda, "and unless I'm much mis
taken it will be in the future quite
like some of those dreams. There was
a young man who made a promise or
two about strange cities and beautiful
clothes, you know," she added, redden
ing a little. "I saw Mr. Alden's note
to you, and I was tricked into reading
a part of It."
"I snppose it will be pcinted In the
papers." s.-Hd Elsie, "with your picture
and mine and Mr. Alden's. Isn't this
awful? It Is so absolutely horrible
that there's no use being polite about
it. Rut really I never meant to do you
any harm. I never encouraged Mr.
Aldeu. 1 loved him from the begin
ning The very first evening I saw
him I went home and cried about him,
but when he began to come to see me
I made him think that I didn't care
for him. I actually tJid make him
think so."
"I know It." replied Brenda gently.
"He told me so."
"It was only on that last evening
that 1 let him guess the truth," said
Elsie, "and how I did that, heaven may
know. Suddenly he seemed to see it,
and then, honestly. I had no oppor
tunity to deny it. 1 didn't speak a
word in two hours. Mr. Alden talked
for both of us. making my arguments
for me and then answering them
without the faintest perception that
they weren't really mine at all. In
fact, he was like a big boy, so carried
away with his own Idea that all the
world seemed to be rushing along In
the way he wished. It was only when
he talked about sending me a lot of
money to buy wedding clothes that I
managed to make myself heard, and
even then he thought that my objec
tion was altogether to the money and
not to tiie wedding. Remember that I
was uot much calmer than he, and you
will have some idea of the confusion.
Oh. Brenda. how can I talk to you like
this? And you don't seem to care in
the least. Are we all crazy together?"
"Some of lis have been so perhaps,"
said Brenda. "but this morning I think
we are all particularly sane."
"It was wrong, of course, to let him
come to see me." Elsie continued. "But
it must end soon, and It was so little,
and you would have so much. You
know in those days 1 hated you-, envied
you, lay awake at night to think bitter
Uc bchcUl the strange word reversed.
thoughts about you. with your beauty
and position and luxury! Oh, I saw
you! I walked up and down in front
of your house for an hour one day until
you came out and got into your car
riage. And 1 wished the horses would
run away with you, and Just as the
thought flashed into my mind one of
them began to prance, and 1 actually
prayed out lon.*, because I was so
afraid hi; really would run, after I had
wished it."
The "thetorical value of this speech
was somewhat marred by the circum
stance that Elsie's face was being
washed while it was delivered. Hav
ing rendered this service, Brenda be
gan to arrange her patient's hair.
"I felt so small and shabby outside
your house," said Elsie. "You can't
have any idea (if it. Fancy that man
sion full of- serv mts, all yours, and
there was 1 who was In nee ' of shoes.
I don't mean to say they were full of
holes or anything like that, but they
didn't look very nice, aiud I couldn't
afford to b»y a new pair, for I wa ■ sav
ing every penny. My mother and 1
have a little Im-oine. aud I was down
to that, for 1 hadu't had an engage
ment since February I suppose you
never wasted your time thinking about
mo — after you knew there was such a
girl."
"I never knew there was such a
girl." rer ed Brenda. "until 1 M'W you
in this room The girl 1 thought about
nexer existed. Al I now let me .av
this: There is no rivalry between us.
There are matches so made
in heaven that even a woman's jeal
ousy must admit the divine sanction.
So don't think of 'sparing my feelings,'
as my New England aunt expresses
it, or 'being polite,' to use your own
phrase for the same Idea. You and
Mr. AUlen were made for each other.
If I had been writing a book or a play,
I might have tried to create two people
so perfectly reciprocal. The way 1*
made smooth for ine to be a friend to
both of you."
Elsie turned her head suddenly and
kissed Bronda's hand. Then she re
lapsed into thought which culminated
in her saying:
"You couldn't have loved him. I
ought not to say that, of course, but
it's true. Divine sanction hasn't any
thing to do with jealousy. They don't
come from the same locality. I have
always been jealous whenever 1 have
been in love."
She looked up out of the corner of
her eye to catch the effect of the shock.
"Whenever you have been in love!"
cried Brenda. "I hope It hasn't hap-
IK'ned often."
"Well, not so very often." replied
Elsie. "1 remember being in love with
an actor once for as much as two
weeks. You spoke about putting Mr.
Aldeu and uie into a play. Well, this
man resembled Mr Alden, and we
were ill the same aggregation of gen
ius He was just as much like Mr. Al
den as the man they get to play Napo
leon in a third rate road company pro
duction of "Sa:is tJene' is like the real
Napoleon. They pick out a fellow with
the right kind of nose. However, I
loved him with a consuming ardor. 1
remember leaning out of a window of a
fierce little hotel in a Jay town in the
west to watch him sitting on a fence in
tiie tniinlight. smoking a cigar after
tile show. I imagined that lie might
be thinking of me. By and by another
fellow in tlie company came along and
asked him if he was enjoying the
moon. And my idol said: 'To—some
where— with tiie moon. I was waiting
for you to buy me a drink.' It wasn't
very bad. but it was coarse, and I
didn't love htm any more after that,
and as he had uever taken the slightest
notice of me the romance was not seri
ous except that 1 caught an awful cold
leaning out of that window. Now, why
did I tell you that story. Brenda7"
"Because it is amusing, I suppose,"
said Brenda. surprised by the question.
"Because at that time 1 was not quite
17 years old," said Elsie, "and 1 was
traveling around the country alone.
My mother was not strong enough to
go with me, and we both needed money
very fondly."
While Brenda was striving to grasp
the full meaning of this, being well
assured that Elsie spoke with a definite
purpose, tiiere came a rap at the door,
announcing the morning visit of Dr.
„
"/ was so afraid."
Kendall. Brenda was sufficiently and
very becomingly attired, and not so
much as a single shining thread of her
hair showed the smallest disarray, yet
she could not help feeling a sense of
disadvantage. Having leaned upon the
conventionalities quite steadily nil her
life, she had come to need them, and
Dr. Kendall was to her a young man
whom she had met in society rather
than a physician. She was surprised
and a little ashamed to find that this
was true.
As for Kendall, he was all doctor
that morning. He had been detained
from Elsie longer than he would have
wished, and that strange thing which
Is a doctor's conscience was driving
him hard. He wasted no time In words
until he had satisfied himself about his
patient. In the course of his investiga
tion he discovered that Elsie still calm
ly believed that she would die of her
wound, and this was the sole unfavor
able symptom. It was the more re
markable because she had not at that
time any sensations which a rational
mind could attribute to the approach
ut dissolution. There was pain, of
course, but it was not of the kind that
depresses and frightens the sufferer.
Tiie doctor spoke to her in the most
encouraging words that he could com
mand, but they seemed not to produce
an adequate effect. Elsie said little
upon the subject of death, but It was
clear that her mind was fixed upon it.
"I must hurry away," said the doc
tor. "Mr. Alden is waiting in my room
in a state of anxl ity that I need not de
scribe. I shall not only relieve that
completely, but I shall tell him that he
may see you this afternoon, five min
utes precisely, and Miss Maclane will
hold the watch."
"Tell him. please," said Elsie, "that
I thank him very much for the violets;
also that I received his message and
that he must not think of it any more.
You will remember? Ho must put It
out of his mind."
Kendall glanced somewhat uneasily
at Brenda as he repeated this singular
message.
"I received from Mrs. Simmons," said
he, "a telegram sent to her from you/
mother—that is. from one of the family.
I haven't It here; must have left it in
my room"—and he pretended to search
his pockets. "It said that your mother
was uot quite well enough to start at
once. and. In view of the encouraging
telegrams sent last night, your rela
tives wouldn't let her come unless she
was quite able to make the journey.
Mrs. Simmons' message, sent immedi
ately after you were hurt, was quite
alarming, I'm afraid; but we have cor
rected all that."
"My mother is prostrated," said
Elsie, her eyes tilling with tears, "and
I shall never see her again."
"I assure you that you will," replied
Kendall earnestly, "and, by the way,
here's a letter from her. tt came this
morning. 1 was told. There was no
other mail for you."
"It's strange what has become of Mr.
Alden's letter." said Elsie, "the one he
mentioned in that note."
"Do you mean that you didn't receive
It?" exclaimed Brenda.
EI ie sliook her head.
"It didn't come," she said.
Kendall did not understand the sig
nificance of this, as he had no accurate
knowU.'ge of the contents of the note.
He situ •!• and n. ived toward the door.
Brenda accompanying him
"It' you should chance to meet Mr.
Lluicudorf this morning," said she.
"perhaps ft would be better not to men
tion what you have Just heard."
"About the letter 7**
"Y.s."
"1 will not speak of It." said Kendall,
"anil as to the message which 1 shall
take to Sir Alden from Hiss Miller,
while of coarse I attach no sinister
meaning to it. I shall take pains to for
get it immediately."
"We cannot know what it is that she
wished him to put out of his mind."
said Rrenda. "Perhaps his love for
her."
"We will rake that view of it," re
plied Kendall.
At this moment a nurse came to take
instructions about breakfast for Bren
da and the patient, aud she brought
word that Mr. Maclane was in the re
ception room, very anxious to see bis
daughter.
[TO BE co.rriyuiD.]
■ite^gspgN
AN EGG TESTER.
Knaily Made, Coin Xotbtn* and
Serve* n Good Purpose.
The desirability of setting two or
three hens on the same day and exam
ining the eggs at the end of a week to
see which of them are fertile and
which sterile is urged by W. B. Leget
ineier, an eminent English poultry au
thority. Of numerous instruments ad
| vertised under th» names of ovascopes
and egg testers hs finds none superior
and few equal to one that can be made
without the slightest cost as follows:
A piece of common cardboard, such
as an old book cover, should be taken
and an oval hole cut in the center not
quite large enough to allow an egg to
pass through. The cardboard Is more
conveniently used If It is dark or color
ed on one side* Supposing, as should
always be the case, that two or three
hens are set on the same day, on the
evening of the same day of the fol
lowing week the eggs should be re-
TESTXNQ AN EGO.
moved quietly from under the hen. She
need not be lifted off the nest, but the
hand can be passed under her and the
eggs taken away one by one. These
should be conveyed in a basket into a
room lighted only by one lamp.
The cardboard, with the dark side
toward the observer, should then be
held up against the lamp, as shown in
the cut, and the eggs one after another
should be held against the bole and
the light looked at through them. If
they appear unchanged and look like a
fresh egg, they are barren and should
be put on one side. Those eggs with
chickens In them, the only ones which
will hatch, are perfectly opaque at the
end of a week except at the larger end,
where the air space exists. This opaci
ty is caused by the blood vessels, which
at that period of the hatching line the
shell, extending all over its interior ex
cepting at the air space.
Now, supposing that between thirty
and forty eggs have been set under the
three hens and that owing to any cause
a hHlf or third of them are sterile. It
will obviously be of advantage to place
the fertile opaque eggs under two of
the hens and to give a fresh sitting to
the third. In this way the services of
a broody hen are utilized and good
clutches of chickens are much more
likely to be insured.
There is no use in allowing a hen to
sit upon a number -of barren eggs. If
she breaks one near the period of
hatching, the contents cover the othera
and foul the nest and Interfere greatly
with the due hatching of the chickens.
BRISTLESJ3Y GEORGE.
Idea* That Are Good For the Swine
Raiser and Ills Herd.
George, in Farm Journal, says:
It is a good idea, and one the hogs
will like, to throw over to them every
week or so a few freshly cut sods dur
ing the winter, when they can find lit
tle opportunity for rooting about. The
fresh earth Is good for them, and they
will not fail to show their apprecia
tion of the treat.
There Is no great secret of success
in swine raising—a good, warm, dry,
well ventilated hoghouse and pure wa
ter for all seasons, a good pasture for
spring, summer and fall and a variety
of feed for winter, with thrifty, strong
pigs, and success Is yours.
We must keep the fattening pigs
warm. If they are kept in a cold pen
or allowed to run out In cold weather,
at least 25 per cent more food will be
required to produce a given gain.
The squealing pig, with staring coat
and humped back, who crowds and
pushes in the steamy nest for a warm
place, is surely losing money for his
careless owner.
It does not injure a well nurtured,
mature sow to give birth to two litters
If piss each year.
Two hundred pounds Is a good mar
ket weight, and do not have the pigs
too fat.
Potash Masterful In Plant Life.
The best and cheapest potash ma
nure is that neglected home product
wood ashes. These contain an average
of 5 per cent of potash besides a sensi
ble amount of phosphate and a very
large amount of carbonates of lime and
magnesia. They are an all round
plant manure so far as mineral matter
Is concerned, supplying each ash ele
ment.
Unless the farmer can bring into ac
tive form the great store of potash in
his soil, he will then have to buy the
German potash salts, the muriate or
sulphate. These salts are yearly com
ing into greater prominence as potash
fertilizers.
The influence of potash on plant life
Is masterful. No plant can grow with
out It, and its influence In developing
the carbohydrates and maturing fruits
is marked and apparently controlling.
ONION GROWING.
Nnoh Intercut In It Tbls Season on
Aceoont of Good Prices.
As there will be much interest in
onion culture this season because of
high prices Professor W. J. Green of
tli' 1 state Ptatlon gives a few hints In
the Ohio Farmer which his experience
No. 13
leads him to think will be useful.
Simco does not permit the reproduction
of al! bis advice, but ab to soil the pro
fessor says:
The onion plant doe* not possess the
power of many other plants of forag
ing for food. It must hare an abundant
food supply near at hand. Whether the
t>uil Is clay, sand or muck does not mat
ter, provided the food supply Is suffi
cient. I'or ease cf culture, however,
muck stands first, sand second and
clay third; hence the first named Is usu
ally chosen. A soil that endures drought
is of course desirable, but this de
pends largely upon location, with ref
erence to the underlying strata. The
quantity of vegetfble fiber or bumufl
present in the soil has a marked effect
also.
Those who cultivate onions on muck
land are apt to think that upland is not
suitable, but little patches of good on
ion ground can be found upon nearly
every farui. Muck, however. Is ready
for ouious as soon as It is brought un
der cultivation. It may need drainage
to lower the water table, and the nat
ural surface vegetation must be thor
oughly subdued, but manure Is sel
dom needed, and as a rule concentrated
fertilizers will not do much good at
first. Sometimes lime Is useful to cor
rect acidity and hasten decomposition,
and a few years later wood ashes, boue
meal and superphosphate may be help
ful.
On the other hand, upland soil needs
special preparation before it is suita
ble for onions. An otd garden spot may
answer very well to begin with, but in
any case there must be a heavy dress
ing of stable manure each season. On
land that has been heavily manured
In previous years one can begin opera
tion in the spring by early plowing and
top dressing with as much fine manure
as can be worked into the soil, but new
laud ought to have a very heavy coat
ing of manure plowed under in the
spring and worked one season in some
otuer crop.
In the fall It should be manured
heavily again and tiffc manure plowed
under. The next spring top dress with
tiue manure aud work the soil with cul
tivator and harrow, but do not plow.
By the addition of fifty loads of good
manure each season and half a ton of
high grade commercial fertilizer one
ought to be able to harvest from 500 to
1,000 bushels of onions per acre, which
is about the same as can be done on
muck. Of course muck is preferable
to upland because of greater ease in
working and because less fertilizers
are required.
HORSES FOR THE FARM.
llctlthr Little Vermont Hprgmni.
Gentle, Willing and Hardy.
Speaking of the present advocacy of
heavy draft horses—Percheron, Clydes
dale or JShlre —from 1,600 to 1,800
pounds up to the weight of a Jumbo, if
such can be found, The American Cul
tivator says:
Such horses serve excellently well in
the heavy trucking of the city. Here is
where dead weight or main strength
and awkwardness will count What
would a pair of these 1,800 to 2,200
pound horses do on a plow or harrow
In the spring when their feet sank in
the mdfi almost as deep as the plow?
They might not feel the weight of the
plow, but they would feel their own
weight before night. With a pair of the
little Vermont Morgans, the two of
them not as heavy as one of those big
fellows, we could draw a heavier load
through a miry place or a snowdrift
than we ever saw a pair of those big
ones draw in a bad place.
And when on the road they could trot
eight or ten miles an hour or walk four
or five miles on a dirt road not for one
hour only, but for five or six hours in a
day for as many days as there are in
the week, and that not In a rubber
tired sulky, but a good honestly made
farm wagou with from two to four per
sons in it.
That is the kind of horses that used
to be bred in Vermont and some of
them not quite as compactly built in
Maine, and some of them, a little
coarser built, came here from Canada,
with legs about as large and hairy as
the Clydes. None of them ever got
spavins or crooked knees or tender feet
if they had decent usage, for they did
not go down the street as if they had
taken a contract to pound down the
paving stones.
The breed of these horses cannot be
entirely exhausted. There must be
some farmers who have good brood
mares yet, and there may be a few stal
lions that have the Morgan blood In
them. If such can be bred, we venture
a prediction that in five years they will
be in demand and in ten years more
popular on our New England farms
aud hilly roads than the heaviest west
ern bred horse that may be offered at
the sale stablen in the city. Do not
make the mistake of trying to put too
much weight into them by trying to
breed from the heavy stallions nor too
long legs on them in the hope of get
ting a two minute horse, but try to get
a good, honest, well built horse of 1,000
to 1,100 pounds with the disposition of
a lamb, the willingness of the ox and
the endurance of the mule.
For Early Rhubarb.
Give the rhubarb plants in the gar
den a heavy dressing of fine old com
post. If you wish a few early stalks,
place kegs or boxes over some of the
plants and heap over them some heat
ing horse numure.
An Odd l : se For the Pin.
An odd use that the pin was put to
long ago was that of checking the in
temperate habits of the English. St.
Dunstan conceived the idea of dividing
the tankards out of which the liquor
was drunk Into eight equal parts, each
part marked with a silver pin. The
cups were generous affairs, holding
two quarts. Consequently the quantity
from pin to pin was half a pint, and
the regulation was that the drinker
"stop at a pin."
Roisterers, however, prevented the
purpose of good St. Dunstan and estab
lished the rule of "good fellowship,"
by which the drinker was to stop only
at a pin. If he drank beyond, he had
to go on to the next mark. As it was
difficult to stop exactly at a pin the
vain efforts always excited much
mirth, and the trial usually ended with
the draining of the tankard.
BUI Nye'a Criticism.
It was In Frisco when Peter Jack
son, the colored pugilist, was a feature
in "Uncle Tom's Cabin." Bill Nye
was to have lectured at the Baldwin
theater, but was greeted by so small an
audience that be excused himself and
went over to hear Jackson talking of
the pearly gates to L&tle Eva. After
the performance V. R. Stockwell, the
veteran actor, met Nye in the lobby of
the theater, and he exclaimed:
"Hello, Nye! What did you think of
Peter?"
"Well," responded the humorist dry
ly, "anatomically he was great, but
Uncle Tomically be is the .worst I ever
. „