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.