VOL. XXXXI. BICKfeL'S JULY SALE. Many Interesting: Bargains In Seasonable Footwear. Men's $4.00 fine shoes reduced to $350 Men's $3.00 and $3.50 fine shoes reduced to 2.25 Men's' $2.00 fine vlci shoes reduced to - - 1.50 Men's $1.50 fine satin calf shoes reduced to 95 Ladies' $1.50 fine Dongola Oxfords reduced to 90 Boys' $3.00 fine patent leather shoes reduced to 2,00 Boys' $1.50 fine satin calf reduced to - - 95 Youths' $1.25 fine calf shoes reduced to 85 Ladies' $3.00 fine hand-turn shoes reduced to 2,00 Ladies' $ 1.50 patent tip afioes reduced to - - 85 Child's 75c fine Dongola shoes to - 45 Infants' 35c soft sole shoes reduced to - 19 Ladies' fine serge slippers reduced to - - 24 Balance of our stock of Oxfords to be closed out regardless of cost. JOHN BICKEL, BUTLER, PA. 1 * 53 I SUMMER GOODS UNLOADED > COST PRICE NO CONSIDERATION | THE MODERN STORE. [ EVERY DAY NEW BARGAINS ADDED. | Ladles' 25c Lisle Lace Hose reduced to l*e a pair, 3 pair for 50c. Ladles' fine Gauze Lisle Hose. 20c quality, 15c a pair, 2 pair for 2.V. J; Ladles' Fine Brilliant Lisle Lace Hose, fiOc grade. 35c a pair, :i pair for sl. jjj 1(0 dozen Ladles' fast Black Cotton Hose, l.fc grade, 10c a pair. I? S> dozen Infants' Slilcjr Lisle Lace Blockings and Socks. Black, White and Colors, B worth INC. 10c a pair. 1- 50 dozen Ladles' Sleeveless Vests, 5c each. f 50 dozen Ladles' Sleeveless Vesta. Taped Neck and Arms, reduced 7c each. 4> 20 dozen Ladles' Swiss Ribbed Lisle Vests. Sleeveless Best 25c grade, ISc each. Z' Men's and Boys' Bargains—Men's and Boys' Colored Balhrlggan Underwear, best ■< Sic grades. Iftc each. Men's Blue and Salmon Ribbed Underwear, nicest SOc Goods reduced to 35c each. Men's Silky Lisle Underwear, Finest . |I.OO Goods reduced to 73c each. Men's McNamee's Irish Linen Mesh Underwear reduced to §l.lß each. 50 dozen Men's Socks. 15c quality Black, Black with White feet and Fancies, 10c per pair. « dozen Ladles' Dark Percale Wrappers, #I.OO and ?1 25 Goods, 78c each. Big Bargains In Odd Lace Curtains.—H pair. 1 pair and 2 pairs of a kind at about K regular prices. H off on all other Lace Curtains. Portlers and Tapestry, Table Covers. » Big Sacrifice of Summer Wash Materials—At Bc, Goods that sold at 12Vic.and 15c. At tie. Goods that sold at 18c and r!c. At 18c, Goods that sold at 25c to 3oc. At 33c, Goods that sold at 50c to 73c. Our Remnant Sale Begins Tuesday Morning, July 26th. A collection of odds and ends to go- EISLER-MARDORF COHPANY, soon KADI muucT » 001 JJjjjwiafSox" ) ■ Send in Your Mail Orders. OPTOSITB HOTBL ARLINGTON. BUTLER. PA. MRS. i. E. ZIMMERMAN Announces a Continuation of Sacrifice Sale All This Month. OUR TWENTY-THIRD SEMI-ANNUAL SACRIFICE SALE was a big success, but, as we stated in our circular of last week, we had an unusually big stock to sacrifice. We find it is still too heavy for the season yet before us. So, notwith standing that the knife was used sharply last week, it will be thrust with a keener edge and deeper cut the balance of this month. DRESS GOODS at Sacrifice Prices of last week. LADIES' JACKET SUITS at Sacrifice Prices of last week. LALIES' SEPARATE SKIRTS at Sacrifice Prices of last week. LADIES' COVERT JACKETS atSacaifice Prices of last week. RAIN AND TOURIST COATS at Sacrifice Prices of last week. WASH SHIRT WAIST SUITS at Sacrifice Prices of last week. Table Linen, Towels, Napkins, Crashes, Cretones, White Quilts, Sheets, Sheetings, Muslins, Ginghams, Lace Curtains, Curtain Poles, Cheviots, Calicoes, Portiers, Window Shades, Umbrellas, Corsets, Neckwear, Gloves, Belts, Leather Bags, Embroideries. Then There is Millinery and Art Goods, and hundreds of other useful, needed things included in this wonderful BARGAIN SALE. Mrs. J. E. Zimmerman MTRICIAM (V THE WOMAN 'S SHOE M Jnne outings find added pleaanre where yonr feet enjoy perfect cotufort. Whether at sea-shore or mountains—on trap or train—woods, fields,lake side or links, a pair of Patrician Shoes will be fonnd to possess every require ment the fastidious woman demands. An infinite variety of styles—all one quality—the be»t Price 18.50. YOURS FOR SHOES. DAUBENSPECK & TURNER. People's Phone 633. 108 S. Main St., Butler, Pa. KECK E Merchant Tailor. Spring & Summer Suitings C] JU3T ARRIVED. C\ w 142 North Main St. vy I KECK THE BUTLER CITIZEN. Catarrh quickly yields to treat- 1 meat by Ely's Cream Bulin, which is agree ably aromatic. It is received through the nostrils, cleanses acl heals, the whole sur face over which it diffuses itself. Druggists sell tho 50c. size; Trial size by mail, 10 cc-ats. Teat it and you are 6ure to continue the treatment. Announcement. i To accommodate those who are partial ! to the use of atomizers in applying liquids into the Ea<ul passages for enUirrhal trou bles, the proprietors prepare C'rcam Balm in liquid form, which will be known as Ely's Liquid Cream 15:tlm. Trice including the spraying tube is 75 cent 1 ;. Druggists or by mail. The liquid form embodies the med icinal properties of the eol.d preparation. »|| i;j »«*ffitf? IPAINTI ! 20 jfjOIFFEHENT ifi tit KINDS St & n? # BUT ALL # SsHERWiN-WtLLiAMS Co's||; A ' •Jj fOR »?; # EVERY # PURPOSE # !j! Redick & Grohman iji 109 N. Main St., j? ! tit BUTLER, PA. Mt w' . w tl? fit Do Yoti Buy SVledicines? Certainly You Do. Pheii you want the bot for tl»«_- least money, 'bat is our motte. Come an<l ®ee us w*her. in need of anything in the Drug Line and ws aie sure you will call again. We carry a fu!i iine of Drugs, Chemicals, Toilet Articles, etc. Purvis' Pharmacy S. G. PURVIS, Ph. G Both Phones. 213 S Main St. Butler Pa. Trusses. If you are ruptured this will interest you. We have the agency for the "Smithsonian Truss," which allows absolute freedom of movement and holds at the "internal ring," the only place where a truss should hold, but very few do. When a cure can be affected with a truss, this truss will cure. Children can often times be cured with a properly fitted truss. Safisfaction guaranteed. If after a months wear you are not satisfied, your money will be returned. Come, or write for literature. Don't forget our special Saturday sale, a 60c box of candy for 35c, on Saturday only. The Crystal Pharmacy R. M. LOGAN, Ph. G., SUCCESSOR TO # Johnston's Crystal Pharmar.y, BOTH PHONES. 106 N. Main St , Butler, Pa. WM. WALKKI:. CHAS. A. MCELVAIN. WALKER & McELVAIN, 807 Butler County National Bank Bldg. EYL FSTATR. INSIJKV'CE OIL PUOPKHTIES. I.OANS, BOTH PHONES. L. i>. McJUNKIN. IHA McJCNKIN OEO. A. MITCHELL h. S McJUNKIN & CO, Insurance & Estate 117 E Jefferson St., SUTbER, - - - - FA Pearson B. Nace's Livery Feed andSSaleStablo Rear of Wick House Butler, 'enn'i, The best of horges and flrst r'osa rigs al wavs on hand and for hire. Best accommodations In town for perma nont hoarding and transient trade. Sped al care guaranteed. Stable Room For 65 Horses A good c ass of horses both drivers and draft horses always on band and for sale •j'-jer a full guarantee; and horses bough pon proper notification by PEARSON B. NACE. Teieonone No. Z1 1 1 ALICE of OLD I VINCENNES 1 Xj iJ | «? f By MAURICE THOMPSON JJ tgi|| || gjmf Copyright. !9CO. by five BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY f CHAPTER XV. VIRTUE IX A LOCKET. LONG IIAIU stood not upon cere mony in conveying to reverli y the information that he was to run the gantlet. The prepara tions were simple and quickly made. Each man armed himself with a stick three feet long and about three-quar ters of an Inch In diameter. Rough weapons they were, cut from boughs of scrub oak, knotty and tough as horn. Long Hair unbound his body down to the waist. Then the lines formed, the Indians in each row standing about as far apart as the width of the space In which the prisoner was to run. This arrangement gave them free use of their sticks and plenty of room for full swing of their lithe bodies. In removing Beverley's clothes Long Hair found Alice's locket hanging over the young man's heart. He tore it rudely off and grunted, glaring vicious ly first at it, then at Beverley. He seemed to be mightily wrought upon. "White man thief!" he growled deep in his throat. "Stole from little girl!" He put the locket in his pouch and resumed his stupidly indifferent expres sion. When everything was ready for the delightful entertainment to begin Long Hair waved his tomahawk three times over Beverley's head and. pointing down between the waiting lines, said: "Ugh, run!" But Beverley did not budge. He was standing erect, with his arms, deeply creased where the thongs had sunk, folded across his breast. A rush of thoughts and feelings had taken tu multuous possession of him, and he could not move or decide what to do. A mad desire to escape arose in his heart the moment that he saw Long Hair take the locket. It was as if Alice had cried to him and bidden him make a dash for liberty. "I'gli, run!" The order was accompanied with a push of such violence from Long Hair's left elbow that Beverley plunged and fell, for his limbs, after their long and painful confinement In the rawhide honds, were stiff and almost useless, fcong Hair In no gentle voice bade him get up. The shock of falling seemed to awaken his dormant forces; a sudden resolve leaped into his brain. He saw that the Indians had put aside their bows and guns, most of which were leaning against the boles of trees here and yonder. What if he could knock Long Hair down and run away? This might possibly be easy, considering the Indian's broken arm. llis heart jump ed at ihe possibility. But the shrewd savage was alert and saw the thought come into his face. "You try git 'way, kill dead!" he snarled, lifting liis tomahawk ready lor a stroke. "Brains out!" Beverley glanced down the waiting and eager lines. Swiftly he speculated, wondering what would be his chance for escape were lie to break through. But he did not take his own condition Into account. "I'gh, run!" Again the elbow of I.ong Hair's hurt arm pushed him toward the expectant rows of Indians, who flourished their clubs and uttered impatient grunts. Beverley made a direct dash for the narrow lane between the braced and watchful lines. Ever}' warrior lifted his club. Every copper face gleamed steadily, a mask behind which burned a strangely atrocious spirit. The two savages standing at the end nearest Beverley struck at him the instant hi' reached them, but they were taken quite by surprise when he checked him self between them and, leaping this way and that, swung out two powerful blows, left and right, stretching one of them flat and sending the other reeling and staggering half a dozen paces backward with the blood streaming from his nose. This done, Beverley turned to run away, but his breath was already short and ills strength rapidly going. Long Hair, who was at his heels, leaped before him when he had gone but a few steps and once more flour ished the tomahawk. To struggle was useless save to insist upon being brained outright, which just then had no part In Beverley's considerations. Long Hair kicked his victim heavily, uttering laconic curses meanwhile, and led him back again to the starting point. The young man, who hail borne all he could, now turned upon him furi ously and struck straight from the shoulder, setting the whole weight of his body Into the blow. Long Hair stepped out of the way and quick as a flash brought the flat side of his toma hawk with great force against Bever ley's head. This gave tiie amusement a sudden and disappointing end, for the prisoner fell limp and senseless to the ground. No more running the gantlet for him that day. Indeed it required protracted application of the best In dian skill to revive him so that he could fairly be called a living man. There had l>een no dangerous concus sion, however, and on the following morning camp was broken. Beverley, sore, haggard, forlornly disheveled, had ills arms bound again and was made to march apace with his nimble enemies, who set out swiftly eastward, their disappointment at hav ing their sport cut short, although bit ter enough, not in the least indicated by any facial expression or spiteful act. Was it really a strange thing, or was It not, that Beverley's mind now busied Itself unceasingly witli the thought that Long Hair had Alice's picture in his ! pouch? One might find room for dis- j cussion of a cerebral problem like this, j but our history cannot be delayed with j analyses and speculations. It must run its direct course unhindered to the end. Suffice it to record that while tramping at Long Hair's side and growing more and more desirous of seeing the picture again Beverley began trying to con verse with his taciturn captor. He had a considerable smattering of several Indian dialects, which he turned upon Long Hair to the best of his ability, j but apparently without effect. Never theless he babbled at intervals, always : upon the same subject and always en-' deavorlng to influence that huge, stol- j id, heartless savage In Uie direction of letUng him see again the child face of the miniature. When nlglit came 011 again the band camped under some trees beside a swoll en stream. There was no rain falling, fcut almost the entire country lay under a flood of water. Fires of logs were , soon burning brightly on the compara- j BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 21, 1904.- l/pji Pi W MA f Ww\\iW/k \\ Pi "Try run 'nay, klV!" tively dry bluff chosen by the Indians. The weather was chill, but not cold. Long Ilair took great pains, however, to dry Beverley's clothes and see that he had warm wraps and plenty to eat. Hamilton's large reward would not be forthcoming should the prisoner die. Beverley was good property, well worth careful attention. To be sure, his Sf.ilp in the worst event would com mand a sufficient honorarium, but not the greatest. Beverley thought of all tills while the big Indian was wrap ping him snugly in skins and blankets for the night, and there was no com fort in it save that possibly if he were returned to Hamilton he might see Alice again before lie died. At about the mldhour of the night Long Hair gently awoke his prisoner by drawing a hand across his face, then whispered in his ear: "Still!" Beverley tried to rise, uttering a fiecpy ejaculation under his breath. "No talk!" hissed Long Hair. "Still!" There was something in his voice that not only swept the last film of •lecp out of Beverley's brain, but made it perfectly clear to him that a very important bit of craftiness was being performed. Just what its nature was, however, he could not surmise. One thing was obvious. I.ong Ilair did not wish the other Indians to know of the move he was making. Deftly he slipped the blankets from around Bev erley and cut the thongs at bis ankles. "Still!" he whispered. "Come 'long." Under such circumstances a compe tent mind acts with lightning celerity. Beverley now understood that Long Hair was stealing liini away from the other savages and that the big villain meant to cheat them out of their part of the reward. Along with this discov ery came a fresh gleam of hope. It would be far easier to escape from one Indian than from nearly a score. Al ready he was planning or trying to plan some way by which he could kill Long Hair when they should reach a safe distauce'-froni the sleeping camp. But how could the thing be done? A man with his hands tied, though they are in front of him, is in no excellent condition to cope with a free and stal wart savage armed to the teeth. Still Beverley's spirits rose with every roil of distance that was added to their slow progress. Their course was nearly parallel with that of the stream, but slightly con verging with it, and after they had gone about a furlong they reached tho bank. Here Long Hair stopped and, without a word, cut the thong; from Beverley's wrists. This was astound ing. The young man could scarcely re alize it, nor was he ready to act. "Swim water," Long Hair said in a guttural murmur barely audible. "Swim!" Again it was necessary for Bevcr ley's mind to act swiftly anil with pru dence. Tho camp was yet within hail ing distance. A false move now would bring the whole pack howling to the rescue. Something told him to do as Long Hair ordered, so with scarcely a perceptible hesitation lie scrambled down the bushy bank and slipped into the water, followed by I.ong Ilair. ' who seized hini by one arm when he began to swim and struck out with liini Into the boiling and tumbling current. Beverley had always thought himself a master swimmer, but Long Hair showed him his mistake. It was a long, cokl struggle, and when at last they touched the sloping, low bank on the other side Long llalr had fairly to lift liis chilled and exhausted prisoner to the top. "Ugh, cold!" he grunted, lieginning to pound and rub Beverley's "forms, legs and body. "Make warm heap!" All this he tlid with his right hand, holding the tomahawk in his left. It was a strange, bewildering expe rience out of which the young man could not see in any direction far enough to give hini a hint upon which to act. In a few minutes I.ong Ilair Jerked him to his feet and said: "Go." It was just light enough to see that the order had a tomahawk to enforce It withal. Long Ilair Indicated the di rection and drove Beverley onward as fast as he could. "Try run 'way, kill!" he kept repeat ing, while with his left hand 011 the young man's shoulder he guided him I from behind dexterously through the I wood for some distance. They had Just emerged from a thick i et into an open space where the ground i was comparatively dry. Overhead the stars were shining in great clusters of | silver and gold against a dark, cavern ous looking sky, here and there over run with careering black clouds. Bev erley shivered, not so much with cold as on account of the stress of excite ment which amounted to nervous rigor. Long llalr faced hi 111 and leaned to ward him until his breathing was an ! dible and his massive features were | dimly outlined. A dragon of the dark [ est age could not have been more re pulsive. "I'gh, friend!" Beverley started when these words were followed by a sentence In an In dian dialect somewhat familiar to him, a dialect iu which he had tried to talk with Long Hair during the day's march. The sentence, literally trans lated, was: "Long Hair is friendly now. Will white mau be friendly?" | Beverley heard, but tho speech seem- Ed to l uiSi ii of va<iU aadl: > '.v distant. !!«■ could not r aHzr* It f :'r" He felt as if in a dre.uu. f:tr off * - wh 're In Inn. I :i with a b!g. owy form looming liefore him. lie heard the chill wind ir. tho tUlc'i *"s roundabout, and l»yond Long llalr rose a wall of fjam trees. "I'gh. not understand?" the savage presently demanded in his broken Eng lish. "Yes, yes." said Beverley, "I under stand." "Is the white man friendly now?" Long Hair then repeated in bis own tongue with a certain insistence of manner and voice. "Yes, friendly." Long llalr fumbled In his pouch and took out Alice's locket. ■ rhieh he hand ed to Beverley. "Whits man love little girl?" he inquired In a tone that bor dered upon tenderness, again speaking in Indian. Beverley clutched the disk as soon as he saw it gleam in the starlight. "White man going to have little girl for his squaw, ell?" "Yes, yes," cried Beverley without hearing his own voice. He was trying to open tho locket, but his hands were numb and trembling. When at last he did open it he could not see the child face within, for now even the starlight was shut off by a scudding black cloud. "I-ittle girl saved Long Hair's life. Long Hair save white warrior for littU girl." A dignity which was almost noble ac companied those simple sentences. Long Hair stood proudly erect like a colossal statue in the dimness. The great truth dawned uix>n Bever ley that here was a characteristic act. He knew that an Indian rarely failed to repay a kindness or an injury, stroke for stroke, when opi>ortunity offered. "Wait here a little while," Long Hair said, and, without lingering for reply, turned away and disappeared in the wood. Beverley was free to run if he wished to, and the thought did surge across his mind, but a restraining something like a hand laid upon him would not let his limbs move. Down deep in his heart a calm voice seemed to be repeating Long Hair's Indian sen tence, "Wait l»er<- n little while." A few mintm-s later Long Hair re turned bearing two guns, Beverley's and his own. the latter a superb weap on given him by Hamilton. He after ward explained that he had brought these, with their bullet pouches and powder horns, to a place of conceal ment near by before he uwuke Bever ley. Delay could not be thought of. Long Hair explained briefly that he thought Beverley must go to Kaskaskia. He had come across the stream In the di rection of Vincennes in order to set his warriors at fault. The stream must be recrossed, he said, farther down, and he would help Beverley a certain distance on his way, then leave him to shift for himself. He had a meager amount of parched corn and buffalo meat in his pouch which would stay hunger until they could kill some game. Now they must go. They flung milcM behind them before day dawn, Long Hair leading, Bever ley pressing close at his lieels. Most of thu way led over flat prairies covered with water, anil they therefore left no track by which they could be followed. Late iu the forenoon Long Hair killed a deer at the edge of a wood. Here they made a flre and cooked a supply which would last them for a day or two, and then on they went again. But we cannot follow them step by stop. When Long Hair at last took leave of Beverley the occasion had no ceremo ny. It was an abrupt, unemotional parting. The stalwart Indian simply said in his own dialect, pointing west ward: "Go that way two days. You will find your friends." Then without another look or word he turned about and stalked eastward at a marvelously rapid gait. In his mind he had a good tale to tell his war rior companions when he should find them again—how Beverley escaped that night and how he followed him a long, long chase only to lost? him at last under the very guns of the fort at Kaskaskia. But ln-fore he reached his band an incident of some importance changed his story to a considerable de gree. It chanced that he came upon Lieutenant Barlow, who In pursuit of game had lost his bearings and, far from his companions, was beating around quite bewildered in a watery solitude. Long llalr promptly mur dered the poor fellow and scalped him with as little compunction as he would have skinned a rabbit, for he hail a clever scheme Iu his head, a very auda cious and outrageous scheme, by which he purposed to recoup to some extent the damages sustained by letting Bev erley go. Therefore when he rejoined his some what disheartened and demoralized band he showed them the scalp and gave tliem an eloquent account of how he tore It from Beverley's head after a long chase and a bloody hand to hand fight. They listened, believed and were satisfied. ITO BE COOTrmJED.] C'oniiidcratc I'npn, At the end of thirty years Hiram had accumulated a fortune. His wife and daughter were delighted, "for," said they, with becoming modesty, "wo now not only have money enough to cut a splurge, but poor, dear papa is too broken down to appear among the best people."—Life. Resented. The Installment Collector—Are you sure your mistress isn't in? The New Maid—l hope you don't «Joubt her word, si*.—Chicago Journal. Conceit may puff a man up, but can never prop him up.—ltuskin. Or IK 1 n of the Salvation Army. The Salvation Army had its origin in the town of Whitby, in the rough coal mining district of Yorkshire, where General Booth, at that time Rev. Wil liam Booth, was doing humble mission work. England was then in arms, ex pecting to jump into tlie Itusso-Turklsh war. It occurred to Booth that he might attract a crowd by issuing a dec laration of war himself, so he prepared one forthwith, sprinkled it plentifully with halleluiahs and posted 2,000 copies of it about town. The device tickled the British sense of humor, there was a "redhot. rousing meeting," to quote General Booth, "the penitent fell down in heaps," and the Salvation Army sprang into life full grown. Where the Crowd* Went. An old actor was illustrating the danger of giving advice, and lie told of a theatrical manager who adopted the line "Go where the crowds go" as a sort of trademark and used it on all his literature and posters. "The scheme worked pretty well." said (lie actor, "until the theatrical man struck a town at the same time a circus was there. Then the suggestion, 'Go where the crowds go.' proved a boomerang, for the crowds were going to tho circus, and the theatrical man went broke." c vo«o>e.*a:o< a >c I HER I | CliOiCE I t By Louise Hubert Guyol ? I Copyright, 1 3. l*u T. C. Mc( Jure 9 "Now that it is all over. I don't mind telling you that is the girl that I had chosen for you to marry." She looked up at him over the great bunch of pink roses that she held in he r arms and from under the soft chif fon of her white hat, an.l he looked down at her out of deep set eyes un der shaggy brows. Then bis glance followed hers down the long distance ot the room, resting on the girl who stood there beneath a bower of palms. The cloudy masses of her white veil were thrown back from a face of smiles and blushes as she received congratu lations and wondered vaguely at the strange sweetness of It all. "You—don't—mean—it?* There were great pauses of Incredulity between Wilton's words, and the slow smile that came Into his eyes was not one of vanity, rather of great pleasure in an unexpected compliment. "Is she not the girl I have always de scribed? Tall and slender, big brown eyes and soft, curling, light brown hair? You have been blind all this time not to have seen who I meant. crJ "I DON'T HER WHY WE DON'T EITHBB DO YOU, MAKOAKET?" I had set my heart on it somehow," SIK' added sadly. "You both seem so well suited to each other." "Why did you not tell me sooner? I might have set to work. It would have been luird work, though." He was still looking ut the bride. "IMay the part of matchmaker? And where my little sister was concerned? Ah, no! I could not tell you, but I did so went it." "That is the greatest compliment you could have paid me. I really"— He had turned and was looking down Into her eyea Suddenly he stopped as if a thought had stifled his words, and the color left his ■face for one short second. "Come," she said, as though divining Ills though? and wishing to interrupt It, "you are to make the flrst toast, I believe. You must continue your du ties as best man." She led the way down the long hall, and together they paused on the threshold of the dining room. "Did you do tills?" he asked. "Yes. Do you like it?" He stood silently drinking in the beauty of the room, with Its filmy draperies of asparagus fern, amid the delicate green of which stood forth tall silver and crystal vases filled with long stemmed Bridesmaids' roses. Hero and there low bowls of green and gold Bohemian glass were half buried be neath the dainty color of the Duchesse rose veiled in leaves of maidenhair. The conventional cake, with Its stream ers of narrow satin ribbon, shimmered White amid the colors, and the pink shaded candles threw soft reflections over everything. It was very beautiful, and he said BO to her. She was very beautiful as she moved about In her clinging gown of palest green chiffon, straightening a leaf here or bending a flower there, and his eyes said so, although she did not see It. Then the next thing he knew the room was filled with people, the young bride was beside him, and some one was holding a glass toward him, say ing, "Will you not toast them?" He looked at the bride, bowed and began. "Hail to thee, blithe spirit!" then stopped, laughing. "That won't do. You are not a skylark." "She's a bird, though," vehemently Interrupted a boy who had adored the girl for years. "Then I cannot continue at all, for 'bird thou never wert' won't apply. What shall I say?" He looked at the tall man standing near, then Into the eyes of the girl bride. "With thy clear, keen joyance Languor cannot be," he quoted, then, Improvising, contin ued : "May shadow of annoyance Never come near thee." lie raised Ills glass and turned to praril the groom: •Thou wilt love and ne'er know love's sad satiety." And amid a murmur of applause and •linking of glasses the toast was drunk. Then some one, taking up the thread of Wilton's thought, began: "What thou art we know not What is most like thee?" And the boy who had used the slang surprised them all by continuing the quotation: "She is 'like a glowworm golden.' Oh, oh, oh! But 'like a star of heaven in the broad daylight' or 'a rose em bowered in its own green leaves.' 'All that ever was joyous and clear and fresh' or"— "I'lease," said the bride appealingly, "no more, it is very beautiful, but so embarrassing. I don't deserve it. I am going to drink to Shelley, who taught you to say such beautiful things." "With such a subject." some one be gan. but Margaret and her sister had disappeared. Wilton slipped f in the crowded room out into the quiet hj'lls, where be wandered up and down, thinking, won dering how he had not thought the same tiling before. All these months past how stupid he had been! Yes, he tiiotiglit it would do no harm to try ''ls luck. Aii, no; she never would, she could not love him; It was too much to expect. She would look higher and fiud — Hut she had ('boson biui for the little sister, whom he knew she loved bolter than life. If she thought hiiu good enough for her, would she not be willing to— The idea bad taken so strong a hold upon h!tn from the moment be bail looked down Into kcr eyes to thank her for her compliment that now he won dered how he could have been blind to it for so long a time. It seemed to him as if he had never had any other thought than this, as if he could never have any other thought than Mar garet lie wondered If— The carriage was at the door; the bride had her arms about her mother s neck; the groom, already halfway down the steps, was impatiently walthig. A shower of rice filled the air, a white satin slipper shimmered through the shower. With a quick pull the horses started, and the man within the car riage turned from waving a last adit-u to the party on the balcony aud put his arms about the girl. "At last I have you safe," he said. "Do you know, I was always afraid of that man Wilton?" That man Wilton was already fol lowing Margaret into the drawing loom Just as a voice behind them said: "That's the best fellow in town. 1 don't see why he and Margaret don't"— The color rushed over Margaret's face as she glanced up te see if he had heard. The smile in his eyes made her look down again quickly. She walked to the far end of the room beneath the palms where her sister had stood and, stooping, picked up some rose petals that lay scattered at her feet. She did It all unconsciously. When she rose Wilton was standing over her. Ho took her hands In his, rose petaL' and all, and looked down into her eyes. "I don't see why we don't either. Do you, Margaret?" Some one had gone to u piano, and the strains of the march from "Le Propliete" came to them through the open doors, a breeze 6oftly stirred in the palm loaves above their heads, the pink rose petals slipped from her lin gers in a shower down over her gown as she put her hands up on Wilton's shoulders and met his eager, question ing look. "No—l don't," she said very softly. Her Stately Carriage. The play was over. The actors, who had lived long on dreams of a full house such as had faced them at this performance, hastened to the box of fice, where they expected to witness ftlie manager enact the role of the ghost in a beautiful, heart throbbing drama called "The Postponed Walk of Hamlet's Father." But they were late. The manager had walked ahead of time with the money, and, like Mother Hubbard's bowwow, the members of the company "got left." One thing, nnd only one thing, re mained for the actors to do, walk back to the city with silk and money blest. It was discouraging, but— "Say," said the low comedian to the woman who had won storms of ap plause by her representations of Ophelia, Portia and other characters of equal note, "you shouldn't mind this. Just think, as you walk, of the critic who praised your stately car riage!" He laughed at his Joke, but the ac tress turned up her nose, drew herself up to full height and strode on—with the stately carriage in evidence, but unavailable for locomotion.—New York Press. Why Parrota Are Great Favorite#. Of all the members of the feathered tribes there are none which have been greater favorites and have been re garded with a greater degree of genu ine attachment than parrots. The beauty of their plumage, with its wealth and variety of gorgeous colors, their symmetry of form and graceful ness of manuer would alone have been sufficient to give them their popularity. But the closest link they have estab lished with our affections is, of course, found in their wonderful faculty for the repetition of spoken words and va rious familiar sounds, together with their possession. In many instances, of a reasoning power which suggests that they are not nlways mere imitators, but really understand the general sense of what they say. Combined with this power of speech, the fond at tachment which they are capable of showing toward those who feed or are otherwise kind to them leads to their being nmong the most favored as they seem to be among the best fitted com panions of human beings. This place of honor in the animal world they have held for many centuries.—Strand Mag azine. DURABLE WOOD. Teak, When Senaonetl. Will neither Warp, Crack Nor Shrink. The most durable wood of which we have evidence is that of which the wooden tombs discovered in Egypt were built and which Professor Petrle estimates to date from 4777 B. C. They were most probably constructed from timber yielded by a species of palm. Oak wood when once It has passed a certain age becomes practically ever lasting. Evidence of thfß Is found in the roofs of Westminster hall and of the cathedral at Kirkwall, which have lasted almost a thousand years. An cient oak canoes discovered from time to time yield strong testimony to this, for one thirty-three feet long was re cently refloated on the Clyde, probably 2,000 years after it was first made. For general durability, however, oak must give place to teak, which when seasoned will neither warp, crack nor shrink. It will, indeed, last longer than many kinds of stone, since nei ther weather nor water affects it in juriously. Fragments of teak many thousand years old have been found in Indian rock temples. It Is proba bly the most durable material used in modern ironclads, where it is invalua ble as backing to armor plates and as deck sheathing.—London Standnrd. THE WORD "TAWDRY." Where We Get it and What It Meaat Originally. The word "tawdry," spelt In John son's Dictionary "stawdroy," Is a cor ruption of St. Audrey, or St. Ethel retla, In whose honor n fair was held In East Anglln on Oct. 17. Tlie word was originally used of a necklace bought at that fair, often made of white pebbles, as Drayton writes: Not the amnllest beck Hut with whlto pebbles make* her taw drya for her neck. Originally this word did not necessa rily Imply shabby splendor, for Shake speare in "The Winter's Tale" has: "Come, you promised me a tawdry lace and a pair of sweet gloves." Since his day the word has long lost its better meaning and now stands for things gaudy. In poor taste and of little value. Others say that St. Audrey died of a swelling In the throat, which she con sldered a special Judgment for wearing a necklace, and that from this legend such ornamcuts wore connected with her name and later took on Its worse meaning.—London Telegraph. No 27 SHODDY CLOTH. 11 I* Made Fran *rr«iilini YUM Span Over railaa Warp. "I would like you to tell me Just what is meant by the term 'shoddy' as ap plied to cloth used iu clothing," said the young man who was looking for clothing In the store of a well informed clothier. "1 have heard of 'shoddy' all my life, and I do not Just understand exactly what is meant by It" "'.V. 11." replied the clothier, " 'shod :> is used in the construction of many i rios which go into the manufacture of clothiug for both men and women. It is so skillfully combined In recent years that it is not possible for any but an expert to detect It until the goods are worn to some extent Shod dy cloths are made from cheap yarns spun over cotton warp. These yarns are spun from old woolen rags chop ped into waste, then carded and spun into threads of various sixes and strength. The cloth Is soft nicely fin ished and attractive In appearance and comparatively free from Imperfections. The goods cost the clothier from 15 to 30 cents a yard, and a larger yardage is consumed than of any other kind of goods manufactured for men's wear. "One of the advantages of the shoddy is that it can be woTen Into patterns similar to those of the ftiost expensive woolens, which Is not always true with respect to pure cotton yarn, which, be ing hard and wiry, does not lend itself to soft effects."—Utica Observer. DOVECOTS IN SCOTLAND. According to Lair, So Oi« May Build More Thaa Oat. It is not universally known that the right of erecting a dovecot was a prir ilege only to be enjoyed in England by the lords of the manor, and the ljlw was vigorously enforced on this point But in Scotland, according to a statute still held in observance, nobody has a right to build a cot in either town or country unless he Is the owner of land yielding about OCO Imperial bushels of produce per annum, and this property must be situated within at least two miles of the dovecot or pigeon house. A further enactment also states that on the above named conditions only one cot shall be built A distinguished authority on hus bandry estimated that in 1628 there were 20,000 dovecots in England and that, allowing 500 pairs to each house, the damage wrought by the birds in devouring corn would work out at no less than 13,000,000 bushels—that is, an allowance of four bushels yearly to each pair. Any one who destroyed a cot was guilty of theft and is so held at the present time in Scotland (the act was passed in 1579), while a third offense of dovecot breaking was capi tally punishable. Perfeot specimens of these cots are becoming scarcer ev ery ypar.—Hour Glass. SUGAR FROM RAGS. ProNii by Which Shredded Linen U Turned Into Grape )a|ar. A curiously interesting experiment' may be made by slowly adding concen trated sulphuric acid to fialf its weight of lint or shredded linen, which Is then pounded In a. mortar and left to stand for some hours. Afterward this la rub bed up with water, warmed and filter ed, and the solution Is finally neutral ized with chalk and again filtered. The gummy liquid retains lime, part ly in the state of sulphate, partly In combination with a peculiar add, com posed of the elements of sulphuric with: those of the llgnlue, to which the name sulpho-llgnlc acid is given. If the liquid before neutralisation 1* boiled for three or four hours and the water replaced, the acid evaporates, and the dextrine is entirely changed 1 into grape sugar. Linen rags "by this process may be made to furnish more than their own weight of this sub stance.— Pearson's Weekly. In Caaea of Shock. A person in the state termed "shock" Is in a very critical condition. Med ical assistance should be procured as Boon as possible. The face will be deathly pale, the body covered with cold perspiration, pulse very feeble and the mind bewildered or there may be complete loss of consciousness. It the patient is dressed loosen all the clothing about the neck and chest ap ply heat to the extremities, to the pit of the stomach, under the arms and mustard over the heart Give stimu lants freely, and if there is nausea give, bits of cracked ice. ■ Different Meanlnga. "Arrah, you're lookin' very sad," said Pat O'ilolllhan, addressing his friend Denis the other day. "Oi feel sad," responded Denis. "Ol'vo lost my mother-in-law! 01 tell; you it's bard to lose your mother-in-, law!" , "Hard!" exclaimed Tat "B'gorrsli, 1 it's almost Impossible!" Home Owner's Perplexity. "So you put up the rent?" "Yes." "Was the result satisfactory?" "Well, if there Is more satisfaction in having a high priced flat vacant than in having a low priced one occupied lt| Was entirely satisfactory." Chicago | Poet. A Logical Deduction. Bright Boy—l'm a chip of the oldj block, uin't I, pa? Fond Parent—Yaa, my son. Bright Boy— An' you're the* head of the family, ain't you, pa?| Fond Parent— Yes, my son. Bright I Boy—Then you're n blockhead, ain't 1 you, pa?—Pittsburg Press. The Verdict. Miss Breezy—Well, Mr. Harkaway. now that you have Inspected me thor oughly, what have you to say? Mr. H. —All I can say, Miss Breezy, la, "I came, I saw, you conquered."— Brook-I lyn Life. An Excellent Memory. Ilicks—lie's very charitable, Isn't he? Wicks—Who? Pincher? HlCka—Yes. He says ho always remembers the poor. Wicks—Well, that's sll. Ifs a matter of memory. Philadelphia Ledger. An Un ant la factory Cuatomer. Bystander—That man seems to be a good customer. Bookseller No, he isn't. I never yet have sold him a book that 1 wanted to sell him. He buys only the books he wants himself. —Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. In Hlfllcultlea. A woman has as hard work keeping l.er cook from discovering what she doesn't know alwiut cooking as a man has to keep his children from learning what bo doesn't know about every thing.—New York I'ress. Proof. Insurance Agent What are the proofs of your husband's death, mad am V The Widow—Well, he has been home for the last three nights.—Smart Set.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers