VOL. XXXXI.
Clean-up Sale This Week J
Bigger Bargains Than Ever For
Ladies. Misses, Men and Boys.
THE MODERN STORE. jj
Balance of our stock of Fine Lawn, Madras, anrl Silk Shirt Waists all to l»e i*
clossed out at l j off our former urices. SI.OO line white Lawn ana ivM t « Vi
trimmed, now tfTc. $1.35 White Lawn Waists, now *4o. §1 .«0 andl *1 .«.» » hlte
Waists. beautifully trimmed and 'finished. 12.00 Waists, hamdsoimelly tnmnn 1 Ej
$1.:«. $2.30 Lawn and Wash Sl;k Waists, now $2.00. liner Watets all at th same N
reduction. These are all this "season's latest productions. All o* the « .Hiur. e<
Victoria and Acorn Brands made of the best materials and Antiy unlsliea. \£(J K
Shirt Waist Suits all reduced. 51.75 Percale Suits no Suits, now « K
$l5O and SI.OO Suits, now $2.50. *5 00 Suits, now f£». Walkinff Skirts at, « °fr. i» H
Skirts, now SJ. $5 Skirts, now $*.75. *SO to S7.W Sk irfcs, W t^h/««• \VhIT« P K fj
skirts now *V»*c Ladies' Wash Duck Skirts, now <Bc. Ladies unit r. k. ra
Ekiru winh tsa-now fflS!' WhlteP.Jv. Skirts worth 13.00, now &S. Lot |
Dark Percale Shirt Waist Wrappers, worth si—>. reduced to 78c.
Big Bargains in Musiin Underwear This Week
All Summer Wash Goods to be closed out this mont h regardless of cost. M
15 dozen Men's tine Madras Negligee Shirts ?1 to $l5O gr ides, this week ®Jc. th
Men's be#t 50c Underwear, Blue and Salmon. 35c each. '.»> dozen 50«: four-in-hand Lj
Ties. 35c each. 10 dozen regular Suspenders, lac a pair, n dozen Boys Cotton is
Sweaters in pretty stripes, 3Sc each Men's and Boys 2.> c Underwear reduced to g|
ISo >ach
EISLER-MARDORF COMPANY, |
SOOTH MAIH STREET j OQ-J
: S Vs i Send in Your Mail Orders. »
x>co>'>opooooo^o«cooe>©CN&<
I Mrs. j. e. zimmerman|
I FALL ANNOUNCEiENff
New Fail Jacket Suits for Ladies and Misses O
New Fall Tourist Coats for Ladies and Misses ij
New Fall Separate Skirts for Ladies and Misses f*
New Fall Dress Goods and Silks
Slew Fall Millinery, Dress and Street effects 0.
Lollies' Suit* $lO. worth sls. Ladies' Suits $16.50, worth S2O. v
Ladies' Suits $25. worth S3O Ladieg' Separate Skirts, new kilt effect
$4 98. worth $7 50 Ladies' Separ»t» Skins, new kilt effect, $5 <JB, worth jZ
$7 50. Lndies' Separate Skirts, new kilt effect $7 SB, worth SIO.OO. 1#
All Dress Goods, Millinery and Trimmings priced less than else- A
where. Quality always the best.
Summer Goods. x
I We still have some seasonable summer noods t-j dispose of. Stocks ft
are low. bnt what is here still selling ut end of summer season
clearance prices. A
OUR RECORD IS OUR GUARANTEE
Mrs. J. E. ZimmermanJ
Bell Phone 208. t—•* . -«%■ I p [ -^ *r» o>
People's Phone 126. DUllts, i ci.
KARL SCHLUCHTER, j
Practical Tailor and Cutler,
115 East Jefferson Street, v
(UPSTAIRS)
Has received his Fall and Winter samples,
from three large wholesale houses, and is pre
pared to take orders for Winter Suits snd
Overcoats from the best to the cheapest.
He is a practical tailor, does his own cutting, '
superintends his own work and guarantees fit
and quality. j
(UNION SHOP)
Employs none but the best of Union Tailors. I
BICKEL'S AUGUST SALE.
Many Interesting Bargains
In Seasonable Footwear.
Men's $4.00 and $5.00 fine shoes reduced to $0 IjQ
Men's $3.00 and $3.50 fine shoes reduced to 225
Men's $2.00 fine vici shoes reduced to - - 1.50
Men's $1.50 fine satin calf shoes reduced to 95
Ladies' $1.50 fine Dongola Oxfords reduced to QQ
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 shoes reduced to - - gFj
Child's 75c fine Dongola shoes to - -
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.
K E C K
Merchant Tailor. Jh]
Spring & Summer Suitings
( ) JUST ARRIVED. ( 1
w 142 North Main St. vy
KECK
Til
(state Library jalyOS &
Nasal Catarrh quickly yield? ;o treat
ment by Ely's Cream Ur.liu, which is agree
ably aromatic. It is rei ivcd through the
nostrils, cleanses an l hta'.s tho rvholo sur
face over which it diffuses it-elf. Druggists
sell the 50c. size; Trial si/.e by mail, 10
, cents. Test it and you are sure to continue
the treatment.
Announcement,
To accommodates those who aro partial
to tho use of atomizers iu applying liquids
into the nasal passages f->r c. r' irr/ial trou
bles, the proprietors prepare Cream Balm in
liquid form, which will be krown as Ely's
liquid Cream Balm. Price including the
spraying tube is 1"> cents. Druggists or by
: mail" The liquid form e:nbodie3 the med
icinal properties of 'ho solid preparation.
l!|j Examination^^^
BE norai ji | Silver Plated Ware M
§ spoon and Iyj will convince you that it is
fit Soup Ladle uncqualcd in the beauty of
P Silver Tl\ let us show you as well If
H plate 1| our other specialties in the J
tE way of jewelry, watches,
Ralston & Smith
110 W. Jefferson Street.
$ -I?
tft OA | T
jgl HI I? I
oo
Ob tj?
3•DIFFEf TiNTifi
& KINDS
jfc BUT ALL jg
WSHERW N-WILLIAMS CO'S^
A i'AINT
iji FOR &
& EVERY ffc
*fs PURPOSE &
4*
31 Reciick & Grohman #
$ T
###lo9 N. Main St.,###
# BUTLER, PA. |t
Trusses.
If you are ruptured this will
interest you. V/e have the
agency for the "Smithsonian
Truss," which allocs 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 v/ear 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.,
SUCCESSOK TO
Johnston's Crystal Pharmacy,
BOTH PHONE*
106 N. Main St., Butler, Pa.
ELY MAY V. STUART
MAY & STUART,
Livery, Feed and Sale Stables
Best Accommodations in town
For Transient Custom.
PHONES: People's 1 Dell 59
Rear of Bickel Hnildirg, g. Mian St
Butler, Pa.
E BUTLER CITIZEN.
ALICE of OLD 1
j*
By MAURICE THOMPSON J|
?' Copyriifh*. ?sr*. by th? Bcrcrv me'-r.:iL company 'if
V-i'j."i ; W. .... .. . . ■ v -
BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 4. 1904.
CHAPTER XVII.
A MARCH THROUGH COLD WATER.
ON the stli day of February.
1779. Colonel George Rogers
Clark led an army across the
Kaskaskia river and camped.
This was the first step in his march
toward tho Wabash. An army! l)o not
smile. Fewer than 200 men, it is true,
answered the roll call when Father
Gibault lifted the cross and blessed
them.
It was an army, small indeed, but
yet an army, even though so rudely
equipped that, could we now see it be
fore us. we might wonder of what
it could possibly be in a military way.
Clark knew when he set out on li';s
march to Vincennes that he was not
indulging a visionary impulse. The
enterprise was one that called for all
that manhood could endure, but not
more. With the genius of a born lead
er he measured his task by his means.
He knew his own courage and forti
tude and understood the best capacity
of his men. He had genius—that is he
possessed the secret of extracting from
himself and from his followers the last
refinement of devotion to purpose.
There was a certainty, from first to
last, that effort would not flag at any
point short of the topmost possible
strain.
The march before them lay over a
magnificent plain, mostly prairie, rich
as the delta of the Nile, but extremely
difficult to traverse. The distance, as
the route led, was about 170 miles. On
account of an open and rainy winter
all the basins and flat lands were in
undated, often presenting leagues of
water ranging in depth from a few
inches to three or four feet. Colonel
Clark understood perfectly the stra
tegic importance of Vincennes as a post
commanding the Wabash and as a
base of communication with the many
Indian tribes north of the Ohio and
east of the Mississippi. Francis Vigo
(may his name never fade!) had
brought him a comprehensive and ac
curate report of Hamilton's strength
and the condition of the fort and gar
rison. This information confirmed his
belief that it would be possible not only
to capture Vincennes, but Detroit as
well.
Just seven days after the march be
gan the little army encamped for a
night's rest at the edge of a wood, and
here, just after nightfall, when tho fires
were burning merrily and the smell of
broiling buffalo steaks burdened the
damp air, a wizened old man suddenly
appeared, how or from where nobody
had observed. He was dirty and in
every way disreputable in appearance,
looking like an animated mummy,
bearing a long rifle on his shoulder and
walking with the somewhat halting
activity of a very old yet vivacious and
energetic simian. Of course it was On
cle Jason, "Oncle Jazon sui generis," as
Father Beret had dubbed him.
"Well, here I am!" he cried, ap
proaching the lire by which Colonel
Clark and some of his officers were
cooking supper. "But ye can't guess in
a mile o' who I am to save yer livers
an' lights."
He danced a few stiff steps, which
made the water gush out of his tat
tered moccasins, then doffed his nonde
script cap and nodded his scalpless
head in salutation to the commander.
Clark looked inquiringly at him,
while the old fellow grimaced and
rubbed his shrunken chin.
"I smelt yer fat a-fryin' somepin'
lilce a mile away, an' It set my in'ards
to grumblln' for a snack, so I Jes'
thought I'd drap in on ye an' chaw
wittles wi' ye."
"Your looks are decidedly against
you," remarked the colonel, with a dry
smile. He had recognized Oncle Ja
zon after a little sharp scrutiny. "I
suppose, however, that we can !t't you
gnaw the bones after we've got off the
meat."
"Thank 'ee, thank 'ee, plenty good.
A feller 'at's as hongry as I am kin go
through a bone like a feesh through
water."
Clark laughed and said:
"I don't see any teeth tunt you have
worth mentioning, but your gums may
be unusually sharp."
"Ya-a-s, 'bout as sharp as yer wit,
Colonel Clark, an' sharper 'n yer eyes,
a long shot. Ye don't know me, do
ye? Take ernother squint at me, an'
see 'f yc kin 'member a good lookin'
man!"
"You have somewhat the appearance
i>f an old scamp of tho name of Jazon
that formerly loafed around with a
worthless gun on his shoulder, and
used to run from erery Indian he saw
fiiwn yonder in Kentucky." Clark held
out his hand and added cordially:
"How are you, Jazon, my old friend,
and whore upon earth have you come
from?"
Oncle Jazon pounced upon the hand
and gripped It in his own knotted fin
gers, gazing delightedly up into Clark's
bronzed and laughing face.
"Where'd I come frurn? I come frum
ever'wheres. Fust time I ever got
lost in all my born days. I've been a
trompin' round in the water seems
like a week, crazy as a pizened rat, not
a-knowin' north f'om south ner my
big toe f'om a turnip! Who's got some
tobacker?"
Onele Jazon's story, when presently
lie tokl it. Interested Clark deeply,
lie and Kenton had, with wise judg
ment, separated on escaping from the
Indian camp. Kenton striking out for
Kentucky, while Oncle Jazon went to
ward Kaskaskia.
The information that Beverley would
ba shot as soon as he was returned to
Hamilton caused Colonel Clark serious
worry of mind. Not only the fact that
Beverley, who had been a charming
friend and a most gallant officer, was
now in such imminent danger, but the
impression (given by Oncle Jazon's ac
count) that he had broken his parole
was deeply painful to the brave and
scrupulously honorable commander.
Htill friendship rose above regret, and
Clark resolved to push his little col
umn forward all the more rapidly,
hoping to arrive in time to prevent the
impending execution.
Next morning the march was resum
ed at the break of dawn, but a swollen
stream caused some hours of delay,
during which Beverley himself arrived
from the rear, a haggard and weirdly
unkempt apparition, lie had been for
three days following hard on the ar
my's track, which he came to far west
ward. Oncle Jason saw him first in
the distance, and his old but educated
eyes made 110 mistake.
"lander's that youngster Beverley!"
WfW ■
\m
I <3J
"I'lvr Zhorzli Vosinton!''
lie exclaimed. "Ef it aiu't I'm a
sqaaw!"
Nor (lid he parley further on the sub
ject. but set off at a rickety trot to
meet and assist the fagged and excited
young man.
Clark had given Oncle Jazon his
liask, which contained a few gills of
whisky. This was the first thing of
fered to Beverley, who wisely took
but a swallow. Oncle Jazon was so
elated he waved his cap on high and,
unconsciously falling into French, yell
ed in a piercing voice:
"Vive Zhorzli Vasinton! Vive la
banniere d'Alice Uoussillon!"
Seeing Beverley reminded him of
Alice and the flag. As for Beverley,
the sentiment braced him and the be
loved name brimmed his heart with
sweetness.
Clark went to meet them as they
came in. Ho hugged the gaunt lieu
tenant with genuine fervor of joy,
while Oncle Jazon ran around them
making a series of grotesque capers.
The whole command, hearing Oncle
Jazon's patriotic words, set up a wild
shouting on the spur of a general im
pression that Beverley came as a mes
senger bearing glorious news from
Washington's army in the east.
It was a great relief to Clark when
he found out that his favorite lieuten
ant had not broken his parole, but had
Instead boldly resurrendered himself,
declaring the obligation no longer bind
ing and notifying Hamilton of his in
tention to go away with the purpose
of returning and destroying him and
his command. Clark laughed heartily
when this explanation brought out
Beverley's tender interest in Alice, but
he sympathized cordially, for he him
self knew what love is.
Although Beverley was half starved
and still suffering from the kicks and
blows given him by Long Hnir and his
warriors, his exhausting run on the
trail of Clark and his band had not
worked him serious harm. All of the
officers and men did their utmost to
serve him. He was feasted
stint and furnished With everything
that the scant supply of clothing on the
pack horses could afford for Ills com
fort. He promptly asked for an as
signment to duty in his company and
took his place with such high enthusi
nsm that his companions regarded him
with admiring wonder. None of them
save Clark and Oncle Jazon suspected
that love for a fair haired girl yonder
In Vincennes was the secret of his
amazing zeal and intrepidity.
In one respect Clark's expedition was
sadly lacking in its equipment for the
march. It had absolutely no means of
transporting adequate supplies. The
pack horses were not able to carry
more than a little extra ammunition,
a few articles of clothing, some sim
ple cooking utensils and such tools as
were needed in improvising rafts and
ranoes. Consequently, although buf
falo and doer were sometimes plentiful,
they furnished no lasting supply of
meat, because it could not be trans
ported. and as the army neared ln
cennes wild animals became scarce, so
that the men began to suffer from hun
ger when within but a few days of
their journey's end.
Clark made almost superhuman ef
forts in urging forward his chilled, wa
ter soaked, footsore command. To
ward the end of the long march a de
cided fall of temperature added ice
to the water through which our daunt
less patriots waded and swam for
miles. The wind shifted northwester
ly, taking on a searching chill. Each
gust, indeed, seemed to shoot wintry
splinters into the very marrow of the
men's bones. The weaker ones began
to show the approach of utter exhaus
tion just at the time when a linal spurt
of unflinching power was needed.
True, they struggled heroically, but na
ture was Hearing the inexorable limit
of endurance. Without food, which
there was 110 prospect of getting, col
lapse was sure to come.
Standing nearly waist deep in freez
ing water and looking but upon the
muddy, sealiko flood that stretched far
away to the channel of the Wabash
and beyond, Clark turned to Beverley
and said, speaking low, so as not to
be overheard by any other of his of
ficers or men:
"Is it possible. Lieutenant Beverley,
that we are to fall, with Vincennes al
most in sight of us?" .
"No, sir, It Is not possible," was t' i>
firm reply. "Nothing must, nothi i '
can, stop us. Look at that brave cliiid!
He sets the heroic example."
Beverley pointed as he spoke at a
boy but fourteen years old, who was
using his drum as a float to bear him
up while he courageously swam beside
the men.
Clark's clouded face cleared once
more. "You are right," he said. "Come
on! We must win or die!"
"Sergeant Dewit," he added, turning
to an enormously tall and athletic man
near by, "take that little drummer and
his drum on your shoulder and lead the
way, and, sergeant, make him pound
that drum, like the devil beating tan
bark!"
The huge man caught the spirit of
his commander's order. In a twinkling
he had the boy astride of his neck with
the kettledrum resting 011 his head,
and then the rattling music began.
Clark followed, pointing onward with
his sword. The half frozen and totter
ing soldiers sent tip a shout that went
back to where Captain Bowman was
bringing up the rear under orders to
I s ii2P l every man that straggled or
shnink from «lv*y.
Now came a'liuie whi'n not a niouth
ful of food was left. A whol;' day thoy
floundiTPfl on. starvlnjr. fainl
pr :it evpry sttp. the
the ice thickeninK- Thoy «• übi> >1
oa land, and uext mora ins they
heard Ilamilt n's distant sunrise pnn
boom over the water.
"One half ration for the men," said
Clark, looking disconsolately in the
direction whence the sound had come.
"Just tlve inouthfuls apiece, even, and
I'll have Hamilton ami his fort with
in forty-eight hours."
"We will have the provisions, colonel,
or I will die trying to get them," Bev
erley responded. "Depend upon me."
Tliey had constructed some canoes
in which to transport the weakest of
the men.
"I will take a dug«ut and some pick
ed fellows. We will pull to the wood
yonder, and there we shall find some
kind of game which has been forced to
shelter from tho high water."
It was a cheerful view of a forlorn
hope. Clark grasped the hand extend
ed by Beverley and they looked en
couragingly into each other's eyes.
Oncle .Tazon volunteered to go in the
pirogue. lie was ready for anything,
everything.
"I can't shoot wo'th a cent," he
whined as they took their places in the
cranky pirogue, "but I might jes' hap
pen to kill a squir'l or a elephant or
Boniepin' 'nother."
"Very well!" shouted Clark in a loud,
cheerful voice, when they had paddled
away to a considerable distance. "Bring
the meat to the woods on tho hill yon
der," pointing to a distant island-like
ridge far beyond the creeping flood.
"We'll lie there ready to eat it!"
He said this for the ears of his men.
They heard and answered with a strag
gling but determined chorus of ap
proval. They crossed the rolling cur
rent of the Wabash by a tedious proc
ess of ferrying, and at last found
themselves once more wading In back
water up to their armpits, breaking Ice
an inch thick as they went. It was
the closing struggle to reach the high
wooded lands. Many of them fell ex
hausted. but their stronger comrades
lifted them, holding their heads above
water, and dragged them on.
Clark, always leading, always inspir
ing. was first to set foot on dry land.
He shouted triumphantly, waved his
sword and then fell to helping the men
out of the freezing flood. This accom
plished. he ordered fires built, but
there was not a soldier of them all
whose hands could clasp an ax handle,
so weak and numbed with cold were
they. He was not to be baffled, how
ever. If fire could not be bad, exercise
must serve its purpose. Hastily pour
ing some powder into his hand, he
dampened it and blacked his face.
"Victory, men, victory!" he shouted,
taking off his hat and beginning to
leap and dance. "Come on! We'll
have a war dance and then a feast as
soon as the meat arrives that I have
lent for. Dance, you brave lads, dance!
Victory! Victory!"
The strong men, understanding their
colonel's purpose, took hold of the deli
cate ones, aud the leaping, the caper
ing, the tumult of voices and the
stamping of slushy moccasins with
which they assaulted that stately for
*st must have frightened every wild
thing thereabout into a deadly rigor.
Clark's irrepressible energy and op
timism worked a veritable charm upon
his faithful but almost dying compan
ions in arrac. Their trust in him made
them feel sure that food would soon
be forthcoming. The thought afforded
a stimulus more potent than wine. It
drove them into an ecstasy of frantic
motion and which soon warm
ed them thoror.glu/.
It is said that fortune favors the
brave. The larger meaning of the
sentence may be given thus: God
guards those who deserve his protec
tion. History tells us that just when
Clark halted his command almost in
sight of Vincennes—just when hunger
was about to prevent the victory so
close to his grasp—a party of his
scouts brought in the haunch of a buf
falo captured from some Indians. The
scouts were Beverley and Oncle Jazon.
And with the meat they brought In
dian kettles in which to cook it.
With consummate forethought Clark
arranged to prevent his men doing
themselves injury by bolting their food
or eating it half cooked. Brotb was
first made and served hot; then small
bits of well broiled steak were doled
out, until by degrees the fine effect of
nourishment set in, and all the com
mand felt the fresh courage of healthy
reaction.
"I ain't no gin'ral, nor corp'ral, nor
uotliin'," remarked Oncle Jazon to
Colonel Clark, "but 'f I's you I'd hist
up every dad dinged ole flag in the
rig'ment, w'en I got ready to show my
self to 'em, an' I'd make 'em think,
over yander at the fort, 'at I had 'bout
ninety thousau' men. Hit'd skeer that
sandy faced gov'nor over there till he'd
think his backbone was a-comin' out'n
'im by the roots."
Clark laughed, but his face showed
that the old man's suggestion struck
him forcibly and seriously.
"We'll see about that presently,
Oncle Jazon. Wait till we reach the
hill yonder, from which the whole town
can observe our maneuvers; then we'll
try it, maybe."
Once more the men were lined up,
the roll call gone through with satis
factorily and the question put:
"Are we ready for another plunge
through the mud and water?"
The answer came in the affirmative,
with a unanimity not to be mistaken.
The weakest heart of them all beat
to the time of the charge step. Again
Clark aud Beverley clasped hands and
took the lead.
When they reached the next high
ground they gazed in silence across the
slushy prairie plot to where, on a
slight elevation, old Vincennes and
Fort Sackville lay In full view.
Beverley stood apart. A rush of sen
sations affected him so that he shook
like one whose strength was gone. His
vision was blurred. Fort and town,
swimming iu a mist, were silent and
still. Save the British flag twinkling
above Hamilton's headquarters noth
ing indicated that the place was not
deserted. And Alice? With the sweet
name's echo Beverley's heart bounded
high, then sank fluttering at the recol
lection that she was either yonder at
the mercy of Hamilton or already the
victim of an unspeakable cruelty. Was
it weakness for him to lift his clasped
hands heavenward and send up a voice
less prayer?
A little later Clark approached hasti
ly and said:
"I have been looking for you. The
march has begun. Bowman and
Charleville are moving. Come; there's
no time to lose."
Lro BE CONTINUED.}
Tlie Other Way.
"Why did mamma spank you today?
Because you are bad?"
tatise mamma was bad."—
Ifo'usion I'O.it.
I con ! \ tl: :e - .1 *.r. ...•«. '.e
ri'otfsh.- 1 vi-r.v :i „'... t:;: i t . whk'i
every di-.y <l::::ini-I,e ■ i; ,
forever. Sir William join-s.
C«0*0»C«0*C*00»0>CaO»0*0*0
t HIS fotRMAIDI
5 §
O By HENRY THOLENS O
5 §
0 ...Cop; iro3, by T. C. McClure... O
3iCj«C«si*o»o»o39o*o3o*o*o«o
"By Jove, Jack, you must wait until
1 get my camera for that afternoon sun
over the water. Aren't C.ose clouds
magnificent? The rocks on the beach,
the woods over yonder, the wares al
most too lazy to break as they come
rolling up—l can see the picture now,
printed deep down on sepia paper, fast
to a prize at the amateur exhibition."
Jack laughed good naturedly.
"All right, old man; sail in, but hurry
up." he said.
l'ive minutes later George Carring
tcn had snatched his camera from the
broad hallway of the Berkeley inn,
snapped it at the waterscape, and he
and Jack Cray sou were oil on a fishing
trip. It was the last day of their vaca
tion, spent wandering down the coast
at random, seldom two uights in the
same place.
The final day's sport over, Carring
ton sped back to the city In a train,
camera, fishing kit and grip beside him.
tanned and tired, but happy. He reach
ed his apartments and thought of the
last picture of clouds and rocks and
sea. He must develop it forthwith, and
he did.
"A vacation of jolly good fun with
out a romance." he mused. "Nature,
sunshine, fresh air, a good chum and
good fishing; nothing more to be de
sired."
The film sank In the developing fluid,
and in a few seconds the outlines of a
const scene appeared. First came the
blotches of black, representing the high
lights—clouds and the crests of waves.
By an alchemy which never ceases to
be marvelous all the delicate grada
tions of light and shade filled in until
the perfect picture appeared.
Then occurred something which caus
ed Carrington to gasp in astonishment
and almost drop the developing tray,
for In the center of the picture, head
and shoulders visible above the crest of
a breaker, appeared the form qf a young
woman, like a mermaid arising out of
the sea. There was a saucy tilt to the
laughing face, and the bare arms were
outstretched as a beckoning mermaid's
might have been. Carrington knew that
no hitman being had been in that ex
panse of sea while he was on the beach.
With almost feverish haste he made
a print from the film. There was no
doubt about it. It was no freak ef
fect.
The girl's face, which he had never
seen before, seemed to mock him in
mystery. Clad in a dainty bathing
SILENT AND BEWILDERED, SHE STUDIED
THE PHOTOGRAPH.
suit, she fitted into the picture as if an
artist hand had posed her there, a
dainty bit of indisputably human life
that rounded out the scene and per
fected it. Fate had tossed a romance
Into his vacation after all.
He recalled the events of the day.
Grayson and he had reached the inn
just before noon, tired by a tramp of
a half dozen miles from a fishing sta
tion farther down the coast. Dinner,
then a rest; the snapshot and the final
two hours' fishing that closed the fort
night's holiday, leaving the camera In
the hotel office beside his grip while
he was gone; then supper and the
train back to the city. All this was
clear enough. But how did the mer
maid creep into his camera? Carring
ton stared at the laughing face In
blank perplexity. Only one point was
certain. It was the prettiest face he
had ever seen in his life.
A paper he had recently read In a
scientific journal flashed across his
mind. It dealt with the photographic
discovery of a new light ray invisible
to the eye, but duly recorded on
the peculiarly sensitized photographic
plate.
"Nonsense!" lie promptly said.
"That's a flesh and blood girl. She
has the faee of an angel, but angels
don't wear bathing suits with all those
frills."
Next day he jumped on a train And
was whisked to Berkeley Inn. He
sought the manager and showed him
the picture.
"You recognize her, of course?" Car
ihigton asked, with a careless air.
"I should say I did," said the man
tiger. with a smile. "That's the hand
lome one of the Langford girls, who
were here a month with their aunt.
Went back to town only a couple of
days ago. Splendid picture. Taken
right here on the beach, too," he added
in a quizzical tone. "I didn't know you
were acquainted."
Carrington rejects! tlie conversation
al tender. "Yes; 1 think it's pretty
good," was all he said. But Just be
fore train time he sought the porter
and casually asked him the destination
cf ttie Langford baggage two days be
fore. ,
"New York, sah," came the ready re
sponse. "Thaulc you, sah."
The journey had not been altogether
in vain. And while other passengers
0:1 that train chatted gayly to tether or
read their newspapers or walched the
panorama of forest and farmland and
the twinkling lights of villages there
was one young man whose eyes and
attention did not wander from a photo
graph ho held before him.
Three months later he was at one of
Mrs. Bloomer Billings' receptions. He
cid not know Mrs. Bloomer Billings,
but he had not been idle during the au
tumn months, and without being a
Sherlock Holmes he decided that ho
must get an invitation, and he did.
Mrs. Billings was a literary lady ,
whose assemblages were diverse and ;
often astonishing. Artists and writers j
attended theiu. musicians aud player
folk, with u leavening of accepted "so
ciety." They were truly heterogeneous
gatherings.
Eagerly C'arriugton scanned the
rooms. A long haired violinist had Just
finished a Beethoven sonata, and there
was much clapping of hands. Carring- .
ton was presented to Mrs. Billings. '
who was surrounded by a bevy of '■
pretty girls. A moment of gallant con- |
versation, and then his face lit up with
a sudden joy that caused his hostess to ;
look up in politely suppressed wonder. <
In that group, now in a setting of pink
aud white, but with the same laughing
face of the glistening beach and wave,
stood his lady of the sea.
An hour later they sat together on a
window seat listening to a prima don
na's song.
"I have n picture I would like you to
see. Miss Langford." he said diffident
ly. lie took the photograph from his
pocketbook and showed it to her.
She gave a little startled cry. and the
unmounted print fell from her bund.
"Why—why, you were at Berkeley
inn!" she exclaimed.
"I took a picture of the l»cach, but
not that one." he said slowly. "And
yet that is the one I fouud In my cam
era."
Their eyes met for an instant, and
the girl flushed crimson. Silent and be
wildered. she studied the photograph.
Suddenly she broke. Into the laugh of
the water witch again.
"No less surprising was the picture
my sister took of me," she exclaimed
excitedly. "The water and rocks v.-ere
lovely, but I was nowhere to be seen!"
"Now the mystery is no longer mys
terious!" laughed Carrlngton. "It's plain
enough. I saw another camera in the
hotel office, but never thought until
this instant that I might have picked
up the wrong one. Your sister took a
picture with my camera, and I took
one with hers." Suddenly he became
silent and after a moment or two stam
mered, "I—l suppose this is your sis
ter's property, but may I not keep it?"
The girl tossed her head and smiled
in mock hesitation. She had been turn
ing the picture around and around in
her hand. Then the smile and the warm
blood left her face in company, and
there was au almost imperceptible
tremor of the long dark eyelashes. On
the back of the photograph she had
read:
"My mermaid."
Again their eyes met, but lisrs were
quickly withdrawn. Her hesitation was
real now.
Both were silent another moment. He
sat eagerly, expectantly. Her eyes were
fixed on the floor, and as she slowly ex
tended her hand and placed the picture
in his he felt the warm touch of her
finger tips.
Politeness.
If those who are doubtfiil as to the
correct course to pursue in any given
situation will remember that even the
wrong thing is overlooked if one is but
absolutely polite in the doing of it
their relief might be great.
A gentleness of demeanor and s
courteous response or question can
never be out of place. A man may
wear a business suit of clothes to an
evening wedding less noticeably than
a truculent air of insolence. If he be
perfectly well bred as far as behavior
goes, it matters not so much what his
outward garb, although by an unwrit
ten law of social observance certain
clothes are the correct thing for cer
tain occasions.
Politeness is never wrong. Its prac
tice goes nearly all the way toward
the goal of the right thing in the right
place. We hear of polite Insolence, but
Insolence is never polite, and It is nev
er, under any circumstances, polite to
be insolent
The Tonrlat and the Porter.
An English tourist was discussing the
relative merits of British and Ameri
can railway service the other evening
when he suddenly sprang the following
clincher on his cisatlantic cousins;
"I tell you, though, there's one point
you folks are behind In, and that Is the
lack of consideration showa white pas
sengers in having them pass inspectlen
by an African. Why, the idea of such
treatment Is an Insult to any gentle
man.
"A few days ago when boarding one
of your famous express trains I was
chagrined, to put it mildly, to be asked
by a liveried colored man to show my
ticket to him. I subsequently learned
that this same Individual Is nothing
but a train waiter. Such a thing could
not happen in my country."—New York
Press.
WHEN YOU CAN'T SLEEP.
Jut Pretend Yon Don't Want to and
Yon'll Soon Drop OS.
When we are kept awake from our
fatigue the first thing to do is to say
over and over to ourselves that we do
not care whether we go to sleep or not
In order to imbue ourselves with a
healthy indifference about it. It will
help toward gaining this wholesome
indifference to say: "I am too tired to
sleep, and therefore the first thing for
me to do Is to get rested In order to
prepare for sleep. When my brain Is
well rested It will go to sleep; it esn
not help It. When It Is well rested It
will sleep Just as naturally as my longs
breathe or as my heart beats."
Another thing to remember—and it is
very important—ls that an overtired
brain needs more than the usual nour
ishment. If you have been awake for
an hour and it Is three hours after
your last meal take half a cup or a
cup of hot milk. If you are awake
for another two hours take half a cup
more, and so, at Intervals of about two
hours, so long as you are awake
throughout the night. Hot milk is
nourishing and a sedative. It is uot
inconvenient to have milk by the side
of one's bed, and a little saucepan and
a spirit lamp.—Leslie's Weekly.
WOODEN BREAD.
It la Possible to Make a. Palatable
Loaf From Sawdust.
As long ago as 1834 Professor Aute
rlth of Tubingen succeeded in making
a tolerably good quartern loaf out of a
deal board. Everything soluble was
removed by maceration and boiling;
the wood was then reduced to fibers,
dried In an oven and ground, when it
had the taste and smell of corn flour.
A sponge was then made by the addi
tion of water and the sour leaven of
corn flour, and It was baked and found
to be better than a compound of bran
and com husks.
Wood flour boiled In water forms
also a nutritious Jelly, which the pro
fessor found both palatable and whole
some in the form of gruel, dumplings
and pancakes.
Professor Brunde has also recorded
the making of bread from woody filter.
He says: "Before me is a specimen im
ported from Sweden. Seeing the close
relation between the composition of
starch and lignine, the conversion of
the latter into bread does not seem so
remarkable." He also cannot praise
the quality of strctrtoreirtf i
No. 29
Some Oi/a Plaata.
There are few plants that bare not
been utilized In one way or another by
mankind for food, paper, drags, or In
other ways. Among many not BO well
known may be mentioned the Japanese
wax tree, bearing bunches of fruit
growing like grapes which contain a
species of wax used in making candles.
Another tree, found in the Pacific is
lands aud known as the candle nut,
yields a large quantity of oil, while the
kernels are strung together on a stick
and lighted as a candle. The fruit of
the candle tree is between three and
four feet in length and about an Inch
In diameter, and of a yellowish color.
As they are seen hanging from the
tree they present the appearance of a
number of wax candles. The telegraph
plant, which grows In India, Is a slen
der, erect shrub, so called because of
some resemblance to signals In the mo
tion of its trifoliate leaves—the two
side ones rising and falling alternately
for a time, and then resting. Some
times many of the leaves, are in motion,
and sometimes only a few, the greatest
jctivlty being in the early morning,
and not depending on the wind.
New Year'a Snprritltloii.
The following superstitions In con
nection with New Year's are still be
lieved in various parts of England,
Ireland, Scotland and Wales: On New
Year's morning go to a well or foun
tain and leave an apple and nosegay,
and the water will keep fresh and be
more wholesome all the year. If a dark
complexloned man crosses your thresh
old first on New Year's day you will be
prosperous; If a blond, unlucky, and If
a redheaded man dire disaster will sore
ly follow. Before locking the door for
the night on New Year's eve place a
gold coin near It and let It remain
there until the church bells ring the
next morning, and you will have plen
ty of money all that year. So strong Is
the belief in this last adage In some
places that dark complexloned men are
paid a small gratuity to call early and
walk through the first floor of the
bouse, entering by the back door and
leaving by the front
Nation Without a Lamtiae*.
Among the people of the world the
Swiss arc alone in having no language
they can call their own. According to
a recent visitor to the little country
about three-fourths of the people of
Switzerland speak German, while the
remainder divide four other languages
among them—mainly French and Ital
ian—the languages varying, as a rule,
according to the proximity of the peo
ple to each country whose tongue
they speak. Public documents and
notices are printed In both French and
German. In the Swiss national parlia
ment the members make their speeches
either in French or German, for nearly
all the members understand both lan
guages. The orders of the president
are translated by an official Interpreter
and furnished to the newspapers In
both languages.
Vonm Journey* Made by WBales.
The whales that swim about the Is
lands which lie off the coast of Norway
and Finland In March and April travel
immense distances. In May they turn
up at the Azores or even at the Ber
mudas and sometimes pay a visit to
the Antilles. They swim fast, for In
June they are back again off Norway.
Some of these whalca have been known
to bring back evidences of where they
have been, for harpoons of the peculiar
kind used off the coast of South Amer
ica have been found stuck In them. —
St James Gazette. x
Grand Advice.
A shoemaker came to the minister
asking his advice because "that sweep,
his landlord, had given him notice to
quit and he would have nowhere to
lay his head." The minister could
only advise him to lay his case before
the Lord. A week later the minister
returned and found the shoemaker
busy aud merry. "That was gran' ad
vice ye gied me, minister," said the
man. "I laid my case before the Lord,
as ye tell't me, an' noo the sweep'!
deid." Geikie's "Scotch Reminis
cences."
Good Humor.
According to ancient theory, there
are four principal humors in the body
—blood, phlegm, choler and melancholy.
The predominance of any one de
termined the temper; hence the expres
sion "choleric humor," etc. A nice bal
ance made a good compound called a
good humor, and a preponderance of
any a bad compound called an 111 or
bad humor.
Had Mlajadffed Hl*.
"Does your father ever kiss your
mamma, Willie?" asked the lady who
had once been the gentleman's sweet
heart.
"Yes, every morning when he goes
away to the city."
1 "Dear me! And to think that I onoe
doubted his courage!"— Chicago Bec
ord-Herald.
■
Her Cttrloaltr.
"Mrs. Chellus looks bad, doesn't she?"
"Yes, and no wonder. She's been
awake every night for a week past"
"The idea! What was the matterV
"She discovered about a week ago
that her husband talks in his sleep,
and of course she had to listen."—Phil*
odelpbla Ledger.
A Novice at the Baalneu.
"I suppose you had a perfectly lovely
time at Wexford's house party?"
"No, it was a fizzle. Mrs. Wexford
bas so little tact She was always ar
ranging it 60 that the men would have
to pair off with their own wives."—
Exchange.
Emotion turning back on itself and
not leading on to thought or action IS
the element of madness. —J. Sterling.
For Hnbby'a Eyes.
Shopman—You wont a nice motto to
hang up in the house, ma'am? How
would "Heaven Bless Our Home" or
"No Tlace Like Home" do? Severe
Looking Lady—Wouldn't do at aIL
What I want is a card to bang up In
the hall bearing the words "Better
Late Never."
Why Is This Sot
A father of four boys has discovered
that different sounds travel With dif
ferent velocity.
A call to dinner, he says, will carry
over a ten acre field in a minute and
a half, while a summons to return to
work takes from five to eight minutes.
—Chums.
■till Able to Attend to Bulatu.
"I told Uncle Simon that he was get
ting too old and feeble to attend to
business."
"Did he take it klnAy?"
"He threw me out of his office."—
Vanity Fair.
Looking? Plfimant.
Photographer— Now, sir, if you'll look
u little less as though you bad a bill
to meet and a little more as though
you'd just been left a legacy you'll be
• picture.—New Yorker.