Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, March 09, 1905, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    VOL. XXXXII.
THE MODERN STORE-
First With New Spring Goods.
Special Low Prices on New Spring Arrivals.
Every Lady Reader Will be Interested.
Ladies' Dip Hip Corset, with supporters attached, made by the Kabo
Co.. all sizea. worth 75c, 50c . I
Ladies' New Mannish Cape Walking (iloves. a reeular $1.35 glove, $1 pr.
New Veilings for March blustery winds. 25c to 50c yd
New Turnovers and Stock Collars, 5c 10c, 18c, 25c, 50c-
New China Silk Shirt Waists good quality silk, nice'y trimmed, a
regular $4.00 waist S3 1
New Hand Bags special value at 50c and 11 00.
A Flyer For the Men.
New Negligee Shirts at 50c and SI.OO.
They are the right kind too.
EISLER-MARDORF COfIPANY,
SOUTHluramirr \ QQI
JSESrc?2«' s ' I Send in Your Mail Orders.
OPrOSITE HOTEL ARLINGTON. BUTLER. PA.
jwe*""wish to Announce |
S That we have now in stock and ready for your inspection /
C the finest line of spring clothing ever shown in Butler. 1
J When we tell you that the I. HAMBURGER & SONS' ✓
J Suits, Overcoats, Top Coats and Rain Coats are here 1
j nothing more need be said. c
N Our crack line of boys' and children's spring suits /
C and top coats are on display. For quality, taste and style, r
/ the Skolney make of boys' knee-pant suits and top coats »
) are worthy of a place with I. Hamburger s clothing for )
J Fine lot of hats for spring wear just in. C
S We still continue our discount sale on heavy goods /
/ for the beneft of those who have not had the opportunity J
/of attending this sale in the past. Remember, only a \
< few days more. \
/ Watch for window display of spring clothing and hat?, f
\ Douthett & Graham, j
i J INCORPORATED (
K '
|{ KECK;
I? Merchant Tailor.
Spring Suitings
n JUST ARRIVED. (
KE C K
WHY ABE YOU SITTING UP ALL NIGHT FIRING COAL
WHEN YOU CAN GET AN
EVANS OAS OR GASOLINE ENGINE
WITH REVERSIBLE CLUTCH PULLEY.
t |JIT WILL PULL RODS.
MSmJ 111 Ski IT WILL PULL TUBING
IT WILL
|| wells with
11 uF THE qas
FIRE A
MM STARTINO ENOINE ON THE
WRITE FOR CATALOGUE.
THE EVANS MFG. CO , LTD.,
BUTLEB, FA,
I I
* $
• •••
il J. Q. & W. CAMPBELL, |
AGENTS FOR BUTLER. j|
• j Cypher's Incubators and brooders also Poultry 31
i 4 Supplies and International Stock Food. &
CALL FOR CATALOGUE.
! j 'BIJT L.EB, p
It Fail and Winter "Millinery**!
j i Arrival of a large line of Street Hats, Tailor-made &
| j and ready-to-wear Hats. All the new ideas and *£
i l designs in Millinery Novelties. Trimmed and Un- 3;
•; j trimmed Hats for Ladies, Misses and Children. All 21
| i the new things in Wings, Pom pons; Feathers, 31
Q§trich Qoods, etc, etc. X
jj Rockensteln's I
|| Mil littery Emporium,!
S 828 Soath Main Street, Bntler P»; lit
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
iif
I WICK'S
sSpring Hatsl
| for men j
| are here. j
? The best ever j
£ shown in j
| Butler. |
jSee our windowj
;Jno. S.Wick. |
# HATTER AND FURNISHER, r
# Peoples Phone, 615. f
j BUTLER, PA. t
Beef, and
Iron
This preparation is famous as a sys
tem bnilder and general tonic Onr
preparation differs from all others of
the same name. be< anse we nse pre
dicted Ueel". the be«)t sherry wiue, and
the iron is in snch form that it is quick
ly taken into the system. It is pleasant
to take and prompt in action, making
rich, red blood.
Do You Require a Tonic?
Are you weak, worn out, run down
and nervous? Is your blood thin and
impure? Are you pale and "haggard,
lips white? Do you become exhausted
from every little effort, your sleep rest
less, your appetite poor? If yon have
any of these symptoms use our Beef,
Iron and Wine. If the result is not
satisfactory we will gladly return your
money. Price. 50 cents a pint
NURSES DIRECTORY.
THE
Crystal Pharmacy
R. M. LOGAN, Ph. G.,
BOTH PHONES.
106 N. Main St., Butler, Pa.
£YOUR MONEY BACK}
? IF NOT SATISFIED I
S We have a line of remedies put c
C np under our own label such as /
i a Cold Cure, Blood Purifier, i
S Dyspepsia Tablet, Headache Cure, J
\ etc., which we sell upon a guar- V
# antee or money refunded. f
N Just now the sale on our £
| Cough Syrup
M lea4s that qf all orh&r cough C
S gyrups combined. '
\ TRY IT FOR YOURSELF.
< 25c, 50c- /
>Redick & Grohman |
) 109 Korth Main St., >
s Butler, Pa.
THE
ideal
is said to be un- U|#
attainable. But i mflLff
we flatter our- || |M
have came pretty
PHOTOGRAPHS
in our sample
albums include
some portraits J-y- JWH
which will bear L* '
and look at them
nice it would be mi 111 |i j
to be in such a a}|lUpi|| Hp
handsomecollec-ip W|| 'JjHT
ZUVEfI'S STUBie,
216 S. Main St., Butler.
WM. WALKER, (.'HAS. A. MCELVAJN.
WALKER & McELVAIN,
807 Butler County National Bank Bldg.
REAL ESTATE.
INSURANCE.
OIL PROPERTIES.
LOANS.
BOTH PHONES
CLEANSING CATARRH
4ND HEATING
CURE FOR
CATARRH
Ely's Cream Balm
Eaey and pleasant to
tisi*. Contains no in-
Jurlom drug.
It is qnickly absorbed.
Given Kelief at once. \ V 1
AU.IYS Inflammation. ** WFCJ* *
Heal* ai.d Protects the Membrane. Restores the
Senses of Taste and Smell. Large Size, 80 cents »t
Druggists or by mail; Trial Size, 10 cents by mail.
ELY BfOTilEKi, 66 Warren Street, New York.
"PROFESSIONAL CARDS.
PHYSICIANS,
T C. BOYLE, M. D.
F) , EYE, EAR, NOSE and THROAT,
SPECIALIST.
121 East Cunningham Street.
Office Hours, 11 to 12 a. m., 3 to 5 and
7 to 9 p. m.
BOTH TELEPHONES.
DR. JULIA E. FOSTER,
OSTEOPATH.
Consultation and examination free.
Office hours —9 to 12 A M.. 2 to
M., daily except Snud«y Evening
appointment.
Office —Stein Block, Rooms 9-10, But
ler. Pa. People's Phone 478.
CLARA E. MORROW, D. 0.,
GRADUATE BOSTON COLLEGE OF
OSTEOPATHY.
Women's diseases a specialty. Con
sultatiau aud examination free.
Office Hours, 9to 12 m., 2 to 3 p. ni
People's Phone 573.
116 S. Main street, Bv.f'-r, Fa
GM. ZIMMERMAN
• PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
At 327 N- Main St.
T R. HAZLETTrD.,
Lit 106 West Diamond,
Dr. Sraham's former off-ce.
Special attention gve.- to Eye, v os>
and Throat Peoole's Phone 274.
OAMUBLM. BiPt-L-s;
U PHYSICIAN AMR SURG VON
200 West C" nningharr. St.
DENTISTS.
DR. FORD H. HAYES.
DENTIST
Graduate of Dental Department,
University of Pennsylvania.
Office—2ls S. Main Street, Butler, Pa
DR. S. A. JOHNSTON.
SURGEON DENTIST.
Formerly of Butler,
Has located "opposite Lowry House,
Main St., Butler, Pa. The finest work
a specialty. Expert painless extractor
of teeth by his new method, no medi
cine used or jabbing a needle into the
gums; also gas and ether nsed. Com
inanimations jreceiva prppipt at
tention.
DR J. WILBERT MCK.EE,
SURGEON DENTIST.
Office over Leighner's Jewelry store,
Butler, Pa
Peoples Telephone 505.
A specialty made of gold filliugs, gold
crown anu bridge work.
W J. HIND MAM,
, DENTIST.
« 1274 South Main street, (ov Metzer'e
shoe store.)
DR. H. A. MCCANDLESS,
DENTIST.
Office in Butler County National Bank
Building, 2nd floor.
DR. M. D. KOTTRABA,
Successor to Dr. Johnston.
DENTIST
Office at No 114 E. Jeflerson St., over
G W. Miller's grocery
ATTORNEYS,
RP. SCOTT,
• ATTORNF.Y-AT-LAW,
Office in Butler County National
Bank building.
AT. SCOTT,
• ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office at No. 8. West Diamond St. But
ler, Pa.
COULTER & BAKHR,
ATTORNEYS A'R UV.
Oftpe iu butler County National
Bank building.
JOHN tt. COULTER,
A TTORNEY-AT-LA W.
Office on Diamond, Butler, Pa.
Special ittention given to collections
and business matters.
JD. McJUNKIN,
• A TTORNEY-AT-LAW.
Office in Reiber building, cornei Main
and E. Cunningham Sts, Entrance on
Main street.
JB. BREDIM,
• ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office ou Main St. ti«r Court Houaf
HH. GOUCHER,
• ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office in Wise building.
EH. NEGLftV
• ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office In the Negiey Building, West
Diamond
WC. FINDLEY.
t ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, AND
PENSION ATTORNEY.
Office on South side of Diamond,
Butler, Pa.
MISCELLANEOUS.
p F. L. McQUISTION,
V. Civil, ENGINEER AND SURVEYOR
Office near Court Ilouae.
T P. W4LKSR,
■ML NOTARY PUBLIC,
BUTLER,
Office with Berkmer, next door to P. O
BF. HILLIARD,
» GENERAL SURVEYING.
Mines and Land. County Surveyor.
R. F D. 49, West Sunbury, Ps.
S. MoJfFNKIN; tltA McJUNKIN*
GEO, A, MITCHELL.
h. S. McJUNKIN & CO,
Insurance &■ Real Estate
117 E Jefferson St..
SUTbER, - - - - PA
H. I^ILFCSS.
FIRE and LIFE
INSURANCE
and REAL ESTATE.
OFFICE— Room 50S, Butler County
National Bank building.
BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 9, 1905.
Mother For
John Philip
By H&rriet G. C&nHeld
Coprivl i. 1904, by I G. Car.: r kj
John I'hilip Brown sat up very
straight at his end of tlie breakfast ta
ble. Mrs. Rachel Noah, at the other
end, could not see his little bare feet
playing tag beneath the table.
"Aunt Rachel looks just like my
chicken hawk—anyways she would if
he wore spit curls," he said to himself,
with a little chuckle. "I bet"— But John
Philip's bet was never recorded, for Su
lan appeared just then, red and gig
gling.
Mrs. Noah stared at her reprovingly.
' I did not ring," she said sternly.
"No'm, I know you didn't, but she—
she's here, an' "
" 'She?' Take your apron down from
your mouth aud talk connectedly. Who
is here?"
"Columbia Columbia Farley. She
says that's her name, ma'am, an' she's
from the Orphans' home— a little mite
of a thing, an' that funny!" Here Su
san retired again behind I'er apron,
"What does she want?" Mrs. Noah
asked grimly.
"Well, ma'am," Susan exploded, "she
wants to stay!"
"Stay?" her mistress repeatod blank
ly. while John Philip, unreproved,
squirmed with delight. Here was some
thing doing at last.
"Yes'rn," Susan went on, "She's had
her eye on this house, she says, for a
long time, but it wa'n't till thi3 morn
in' that she decided S(lie'd live with
you. She's a-settin' on her satchel out
in the kitchen."
Mrs. Noah fairly snorted with aston
ishment and indignation. "Much oblig
ed to her, I'm sure," she said sarcas
tically, "aud may 1 ask what decided
her in our favor?"
"It was John Philip, ma'am," Susan
said, choking with laughter. "She—she
says she wants to be a mother to him."
John Philip's face matched his hair
in color now; even the freckles took on
a livelier red. "Consarn he!" h§ said
under his breat^.
•/.Any more?" his aunt asked, with
the air of one prepared for the worst.
"Yes'm; she asked what your name
was, an' when I said 'Mrs. Noah' shg
was that ohe said she'd
neard about you an' Mr. Noah at Sun
day school, but she had no Idee you
was livin' yet."
"Anything more? My oatmeal is get
ting cold. Don't stand there, giggling
like an ldio{ "
i'Bnti vvyuuered hew old you was,
nia'am, an' when I said I didn't know
she thought she could tell by lookin'
at your teeth, like the hired man at
the home done • when he bought a
horse."
A great wave of color rolled over
Mrs. Noah's face and broke on the
beach of "spit curls' 5 outlining her high
forehead. "Bring her iq," she said,
Closing her thin lips tightly over her
"store" teeth.
Susan disappeared and a moment lat
er ushered "Columbia Farley" Into the
august presence of her mistress. She
was truly "a mite of a thing," with
great dark eyes and a most engaging
sndle.
"How do you do, Mrs. Noah?" she
said, holding out her hand in a quaint,
old fashioned way. To John Philip's
surprise, his aunt took the little hand
In hers.
"So you'd like to live here?" gbp said
not unkindly.
"Yes, awful well. Don't you need
me?" she asked naively.
"I think not," Mrs. Noah said, very
gently for her, "aud, besides, I couldn't
take you without tho consent of the
n»3trou at the home."
"Oh, she won't care!" the little girl
exclaimed eagerly. "There's too many
of us now and"—
"Well," Mrs. Noah Interrupted, "you
can stay to breakfast, and then I'll go
With you to tbe home," The child had
crept thus quickly into a warm corner
of the grim lady's heart.
She was eating her oatmeal when
John Philip's father came down tq
breakfast and asked so kindly. ' Whose
little girl is tUiaV" 'hat Columbia's
heart went out to him then and there.
"1 don't know," she said simply in
reply to his question. "They ain't
found out yet at the home, but 1 know
how old I am. I'm going on suven.
I'm little, bnt
—ghe nodded cheerily at John Philip—
"till he got a really, truly one."
"A really, truly what?" Mr. Brown
asked smilingly.
"Why, a mother, of cour»6. I learned
how to be one from Mis' Jones. She
has eight children. She lives near tbe
home. You just help 'em be good, and
they will, 'cause you love 'em so. It's
awful nice to have a mother," she said
wistfully. "I asked Tommy Jones if
lie didn't thiuK st), and ho said, 'Sure
thing!""
John Philip tried to scowl, but his
forehead refused to pucker, and when
bis father said, "Shall we let her
you, son?" he laughed outright. "We—
we—RiigUt give her a try," he stammer
«*l.
And so it happened that Columbia
Farley entered the Brown family "on
probation" and later was taken Into
"full membership."
It was on a Saturday morning, a
month or more after Columbia had
been received into full membership,
that the children were playing together
in" the garden.
h I guess J')l wadln' this after-
HOOfi," John Philip announced. "Aunt
ttwbhel would just worry If I told her,
and daddy won't be home for lunch, so
I can't ask him."
"I'm 'frald you'll be drown-ded,
dear," the little mother said anxiously
(John Philip did not object to "dearing"
ill private), "an' I don't believe you'd
hotter go,"
■"pooh!" John Philip rejoined. "You
iiin't my mother. I uln't had a mother
fclnce I was born."
\ "No," she sighed, "if you had a real
ty truly oue I guess you'd have to
njind. Your father uiiriit got rou one."
Jolm Philip grinned. "He's too busy,"
h«* said, "but I kuow oue I'd like to get.
Last summer we was down at Cove
iaiet three weeks—daddy an' me—an'
tliere was a jolly nice girl there, an' WO
liked her awful well—cloddy, an' ui»-
aij' we her pictui-e one day—snnp
—l mean daddy did. lie's got it
yeK Cojue UP to his room, and I'll hunt
for'j It."
Tlae children tied into the house aud
up to Mr. Brown's sitting roqm. Be
lling a tall vase John Philip found the
Qbjejpt of Ida search. For a moment Co
lumbia gazed at It with wondering
eyes "Why, It's her!" she shouted, with
mqie force than grammar. "It's my
Milss Curtis! She lives near the home.
'Course she's awful nice!" She gazed
and lovingly at the picture. "Say,"
stye said at last, "s'pose we get her ror
yfour mother?"
/Thrrgupyii followed a discussion of
and means, and it was not until
i
after luncheon that the committee of
two set forth in qu ant of a mother for :
John Philip. It wns a very startled
and amazed voting lady who listened >
to tl.eir plea. It was Columbia who of- \
fered the most persuasive argument. i
"lie hasn't anybody but his Aunt i
Itachel and his father," s!ie said plead
ingly. "an* he keeps your picture back
of a vase, an' "
"Who keeps my picture?" Miss Cur- '
tis interrupted, her sweet face Bush
ing a rose red.
"Why, Johu Philip'a father," Colam- '
bla explained. "I s'pose you didn't j
know 'bout it then?"
"No, I didn't know," she said. "I
didn't know," she repeated to herself (
again and again.
"Now you know, an' won't you j
come, please?" It was John Philip
who pleaded now. ills*, Curtis stoop- j
ed and took his freckled little face be
tween her slender white bauds. "I'll j
think of it, dear," she promised, "but i
It will be better not to mention your
—your proposal to your father."
John Philip did not agree with her,
and that very evening he broke the
news to his unsuspecting father. Co
lumbia, with r»r« delicacy, had declin
ed to be present.
'•Daddy" John Philip said bluntly, "I
asked her—Columbia an' me."
Philip Brown looked up from his pa
per. He was a fine specimen of man
hood—strong of body and mind, cieau
of heart and still ou "the sunny side"
of forty.
"Asked whom?" he said. "Asked
what?"
"Miss Curtis, you know. I—l asked
her to be my mother."
Philip Brown sat up very straight
and stared nt his smn jl sou and heir.
"Don't yqi; want her?" the little fel-
Jow said, struggling manfully to keep
back the tears. "I said I was sure you
wanted her, same as I did."
"What did she say?" 'l'tio question
came from between white lips.
"§he didn't know you had her pic
ture till Columbia told her. She said
she'd think about it, but I'd better not
tell you I'd asked her to"—
But John Philip was talking to the
empty air. His father was out of the
room before the last sentence was fin
ished. He bas his hat and van
"Gee," John Philip said to himself,
"we've done it now, I guess—Colum
bia an' me!"
They had. The bridg pnd fwom said
so on their day. John Philip's
Salter had suggested that the orches
tra play "Hail Columbia" while the
knot was being tied, but, strange to
say, the bride elect objected.
P^UVI'KI^
t#ne day in the cloakroom of the sen
ate, apropos of a discussion whether,
from an intellectual standpoint, states
men of the present fall below the
standard set by those of the past, one
of the members told the following
story:
"There \ived in Lee eounty, Ky., a
sage by the name of Jesse Cole,
Jesse entertained the notion that the
present day type of lawyer was not
to be compared with the Jurists of the
old days. One day as he was entering
the courthouse at Beattyville he notic
ed a group of lawyers who were dis
cussing the points of a c<tßo that wa» l
to come up that day. Cole, disgusted
hy their conversation, stepped up to
them and said:
" 'Gentlemen, thirty or forty years
ago the lawyers in this state were
men—great, big, immense men, wear
ing fur hats as big as bushel baskets.
But now, gentleni*n, I honestly believe
that a rellow could without the least
difficulty draw a tomato can over the
head of any one of you,' "—Harper's
Weekly.
Thlnga to Eliminate.
That candy eating habit, girls—does
It do you any good?
That tobacco habit, boys, or tho oc
casional "treating" or "being treated'*—
is it of real use or benefit?
That \v»y of spending money on ev
ery little trifle that we fancy— is it of
real use or benefit?
Those people whom we go to see and
also entertain, yet really care nothing
for—is this society of auy veal uao or
benefit?
fetter one goad friend of nature,
stimulating, congenial and sympathetic,
salth the prophet, than a host of soci
ety friends of the wreathed smile, the
nod and beck which conceal tb9 anoer.
These fails of music- or art or short
fits of ktuay— are they of any real use
i>r benefit?
One branch of knowledge concentrat
ed upon amounts to more In the long
run.—Philadelphia Bulletin.
Sword Stnndu In Churches.
Sword stands came Into use in Lon
don churches when it became custom
ary to carry the city sword before the
lord mayor as be wont to church in
state.. During service the sword was
placed in tli<; stand or case provided
for It, and in his own church the lord
mayor generally had the stand piftwd
conveniently near to QV Ui his family
pew. Tliig vWMt'.un, which was quite
before the end of the six
teenth century, apparently began in
the reign of Elizabeth. Tbv state vis
its to the city clpuv-hes weft) discontin
ued in \\i* mayoralty of Sir R. N. Fow
ler, 1883.—London Standard.
Profitable'lnvention*.
No one class of inventions has been
so profitable to both the manufacturer
and the inventor a* musical instru
ments and appliances for same. Nu
merous Improvements to the piano
have been a source of large fortunes,
and various devices are at present be
ing continuously applied. Radically
uew instruments possessing real merit
are the inventions needed in this line.
The public is always ready to adopt
almost anything new in both wind and
stringed instruments.—lnventor.
Would Even ThlnftM Up.
l4 Oh{ Ouch! Stop that!" yelled Tom
my.
"Why, Tommy, aren't you ashamed?"
exclaimed his mother, "I wouldn't cry
like that if it were my hair that was
eombed."
"I'll bet you would if I wuz doin' the
combin'," replied Tommy fiercely,—
t'atholic Standard and Times,
A Mentt TrleU.
Adele- Harry is a brute! Estelle—
What is the matter now? Adele—He
bough. my engagement ring while he
was on a trip to Chicago, and 1 will
never be able to find out how much It
cost—Philadelphia Bulletin.
Doing Is the great thing, for if, reso
lutely, people do what is right they
come to like doing it—Ruskin.
Couldn't Be Po*»lble,
"Your symptoms," pronounced the
physician, "Indicate hydrocephalus."
"What's that?"
"Water on the brain."
"It can't be that, doctor," said Mr.
Jagway, greatly relieved. "I haven t
drunk a drop of it for six months."—
Exchange.
Treasures of
Brookmere
By MARTHA
HcCULLOCH-WILLIAMS
Gvrtwfat. 1904. far Mutfa*
"Jessamine, come in at once!" Mrs.
Brookmere called acidly from the west
porch. As her granddaughter rose
obediently, but with a little impatient
sigh, her companion, Austin Wills,
whistled softly, then said:
"Jessamine! What a wax Madam
Brookmere must be in! You're always
Sunbeam and Fairy and Bright Eyes
When she's In a good humor."
"That Is to say when the Beveridge
thing is around," Jessamine said, with
a shrug. is in a wax—she always
Is when you come—and she feels In
her bones when you are coming."
"H-m-m! I ought to be flattered, but
I'm not the least bit," Austin answer
ed, also rising and catching Jessa
mine's hand. She looked aghast, but
he kept sturdily at her side until they
were facing Jessamine's dragon. Then
he said, with his best flourish: "Oh,
Madam Brookmere, I have brought
this young person to tell you why she
can't possibly come in. She Is to go
rowing with me. We will be back by
late tea time. The afternoon la too
heavenly to be wasted on land."
"Jessamine, go upstairs and fetch
my embroidery. Be sure you don't for
get my glasses," madam said, us
though the young man had not spo
ken. Jessamine made to obey, but Wills
held her back. He lifted his hat to
the elder lady, turned and walked off,
saying over his shoulder: "Send the
maid up, madam. It's bad luck to turn
back. I can't allow Miss Jessamine
to risk spoiling our cruise."
"Oh, what will she do to me?" Jessa
mine cried as they hurried away.
Madam had been too paralyzed by
Wills' audacity to say a word. Austin
drew Jessamine's hand farther over
his arm and smiled down at her, say
ing: "I hope it will be 'Out of my
house, ingrate!' Then, you see, yon
will have to come to my house wheth
er or no."
"Mercy, you do take a lot on your
self!" Jessamine said, pulling away her
hand, her eyes dancing wickedly. "I
begin to fear, Mr. Wills, that you have
taken our little affair seriously"—
"Isn't it to be taken seriously? Real
ly you lift a weight off my conscience,"
Wills interrupted in her own tone: then,
after a chuckle: "Jess, I must lecture
you—point out the sinful folly of your
course. Here you might be, by taking
pains and showing yourself properly
devout and submissive, Mrs. Beveridge
—possibly Mrs. Bishop Beveridge—l
jieally believe the gentlemau has it in
iilm to go high ecclesiastically, he's so
suave and silken, Just the sort to worm
himself Into the minds of rich church
men, not to mention their check books.
Yet you are passing him up—passing
up the chance of a lifetime—for the
sake of"—
"A very commonplace sinner," Jessa
mine broke in.
« Wills gave her a look of pained sur
prise. "I was going to say 'for the
sake of having your own willful way,'"
he protest^.
It was early afternoon, and the long,
smoot|v- riv«r reach, flecked with sun
mid shade, mirrored perfectly the sum
mer world either side. Jessamine hung
over the boat side, staring at her own
image. Austin watched her with hap
py eyes, but after a little he drew her
upright, saying softly: "Vanity, thy
name is Jessamine. I can't have an
other case of Narcissus and his image
upon my conscience."
"Really! Have you a conscience?"
Jessamine retorted.
"Pirates even have conscelnces—about
some things," Austin answered, ship
ping his oars and letting the boat drift
toward the other bank. "For example,
It goes against their consciences to let
treasure manifestly within reach go
to some other fellow. That other pi
rate, Beveridge, shan't have the treas
ure of Brookmere."
"What is the treasure of Brookmere?"
Jessamine asked demurely. "How much
is it worth? Aud how are you going
to snve It from clerical clutches?"
"Let me see. I believe the Brook
mere rating Is about three millions,"
Austin aijgwered rollectlvely, but with
a twinkle of the eye, "handy millions
at that," he went on, "all in gilt
edged securiLies. If you were more
than a baby. Jess, you would see a lit
tle beyond the end of your none. Bish
op-to-be Beveridge did want you—in
fact, he still wants you, being a man
of taste, for all his sins."
"Thanks!" Jessamine interrupted
Wills shook his head at her.
"He wanted you rather badly, but
not so badly as he wanted the Brook
mere mouoy. And that he means to
have- in iptte of our teeth. Madam Is
only sixty and young for her years"—
"You can't mean be is trying to mar
ry her?" Jessamine cried, aghast.
Wills nodded. "That's his present
laudable aim. Therefore he would like
nothing better than to have us openly
defy madam. Our elopemeut would be
a trump card for him. Now, although
we are not mercenary, neither are we
destitute of common prudence. Three
millions, or even one or two, might
ome in handy a heap of times. More
over, we owe madam a certain duty.
We can only discharge It by meeting
guile with guile. That means, in plain
English, you have got to turn from
your evil way of preferring my compa
ny and smile instead upon the bishop
to be"—
"I don't understand. How will that
help?" Jessamine asked in bewilder
ment.
"He is mighty near committed to
madam. Wait until he is quite com
liitled. then do your best to take him
rway from her. You can do it, never
fear. He's human, if he Is a preacher,
aud no mere man yet born of woman
Is able to stand against you"—
"Thank you again," Jessamine said,
tossing her head. "Oh, I want that
clump of cardinal flower," leaning as
she spoke toward the shelving shore.
Wills shook his head. "Snakes!" he
said laconically, speaking very loud;
then. In a low aside: "Here's where we
quarrel, Jess. Insist upon getting out.
The bishop to be is coming down the
path."
"Oh, Mr. Beveridge," Jessamine call
ed eagerly, "do come and pick some
flowers for me. I want to pick them
myself, but I find I am a prisoner,"
with a withering glance at Wilis.
Beveridge ran down to the water's
edge. "Won't you let me rescue you?"
be cried, balding out his hand. "Jump!
I promise you shall get nothing worse
than a pair of wet feet by it."
"She needn't have even them," Wills
said boorishly. "If you'll agree to see
her to the house I'll be glad enough to
put her ashore. Not in the humor for
walking myself and still less for botan
izing."
Hatf an hour later Mrs. Brookmere
was surprised and, if truth must bo
spoken, not wholly pleased to see Jes
samine sauntering Lome, her hauds full
of scarlet liloom, with the Rev. Bewly
Beveridge at her elbow. Now the min
ister bad been madam's own compan
ion all through the earlier afternoon,
and, though be had not Mid much—
quite too little to make madam aware
of her own state of mind—he had look
ed unutterably things. She had found
the looking pleasant—she was of the
women made to be married, childless,
although she had burled three hus
bands, and still possessed of an alert
and lively vanity. She liked to see her
name at the head of lists of patron
esses, especially missionary and rescue
bands. Further, flattery was meat her
soul loved to feed on. The Rev. Bewly
had found that out at about the second
minute and acted upon the knowledge.
Indeed, his mind was pretty well made
up to marry her before the interview
ended. But then he bad not seen Jes
samine in this mood. Jessamine upset
bis calculations; she fairly swept him
off his feet.
Madam was sadly puzzled through
out the next week. Wills haunted the
bouse as much as ever, though Jessa
mine openly flouted him, at the same
time smiling shy propitiation at the
bishop to be. He also was' in a maze.
Jessamine's encouragement was too
elusive to warrant giving over bis pur
suit of madam, yet sufficiently unset
tling to make him at times distrait.
Wills glared at him and ostentatiously
Ignored blm. It was that which gave
him the strongest hope. Wills must
be Jealous— madly jealous. If only
Beveridge had never begun to court
that old woman! She was in the be
ginning eager to play fairy godmother.
It was sickening to feel that he bad
disturbed this pious purpose, making
the lady feel that she was not too old
to inspire grand passion number four.
Presently he began to see light He
would have It out with Jessamine—ask
her plumply to be Mrs. Beveridge, and,
if she said "yes," go to madam for her
blessing, along with an apocryphal talo
of a distant wooer ready to sue for her
hand. He could make it appear he
had been finding out her mind toward
a fourth marriage. It would go hard
with him, but that somewhere he
would find a man to make good. In
deed, providentially he already knew
the man—a college president, poor and
pious, entitled to write half the alpha
bet after his name in honorary distinc
tions, with children all safely married,
and much in want of a good home. So
he went straight to Jessamine, begging
her to sing to him. The music room
was at the very end of the house, thus
well apart. There was small chance
of Interruption. All the rest were busy
with games or flirting or walking in
the flower garden under a white moon.
Jessamine went with him, walking
high headed and Joyous. At the door
of the parlors she waved him forward,
running back herself upon some er
rand he did not understand. What
ever it was, she did It very quickly.
He had hardly found the songs he
wanted when she was beside him, smil
ing at him In the most bewildering
fashion. As she reached for the music
her hand, apparently by chance, fell
lightly upon his. He tried to hold it,
but she snatched it away, turned from
him and began to sing very softly. He
watched her with burning eyes, his
breath coming hard and fast. As she
made to rise he put his arms about
her and gathered her to his breast, say
ing hoarsely: "Jessamine, darling,won't
you make music for me always? Un
less you do my life will be wasted."
"You—you are not in earnest!" Jessa
mine said, slipping from his arms and
averting her face. "You, who are so
great, so wise, so good, need another
sort of wife—somebody who can help
fou. I—l should be only a burden."
"A blessed burden, one I shall re
joice to carry," Beveridge said, trying
to take her hand. She drew away from
him, saying as though in despair: "You
—you are playing with me. You really
want grandmother"—
"Grandmother! Oh, you Jealous
darling! How dare you name any
thing so preposterous?" Beveridge said,
catching both her hands. "Grand
mother is the most estimable of old
ladies, but even if I knew she would
take me I could not think of marrying
her—not for all the money in the
world."
"H-m-m! You've been trying to do
it for a very moderate part of the
money," grandmother said, stepping
through the French window upon Aus
tin Wills' arm. After one look at her
the Rev. Bewly Beveridge stepped out
through the same window. He knew
the treasures of Brookmere were whol
ly lost to hlxa, no matter how they were
reckoned.
A SCHOOL FOR SPIDERS."
/he Inaecta Taoght «o Wtart Their
Weba Only on Bottles.
"This is my spiders' school," said the
young woman, and with a little stick
she brushed a few webs from the wall.
"Not much to look at, is it? Only a
dozen rows of wine bottles, a great
many spiders and a great many webs.
I make nevertheless a little money
out of the school.
"Spiders' webs are In demand among
surgeons and among the makers of cer
tain astronomical Instruments, the sur
geons using them to stop hemorrhages
with and the instrument makers using
them in certain very delicate instru
ments—lnstruments wherein, strange to
say, a human hair would not take their
place, because a hair is neither fine
enough nor durable enough to serve the
required purpose.
"Besides selling the webs I also sell
the spiders. A corrupt class of wine
dealers buy the spiders. These ineD
put them among bottles of new wine.
I train the spiders to weave on bottles
only—l tear down webs woven any
where else— and It Is amazing how
quickly these well schooled pupils of
mine will cover a case of port or claret
with cobwebs, giving to the wine an
appearance of great age.
"Six spiders in a week will add two
years to the aspect of a dozen bottles
of wine; hence you will readily see
how valuable the ugly little creatures
are to wine merchants of a certain
type."—Philadelphia Bulletin.
Dntr, Then Plea»«re.
Mr. Nasmyth, the inventor of the
steam hammer, once said: "If I were
to try to compress Into one sentence
the whole of the experience of an active
and successful life and offer It to
young men as a rule and certain recipe
for success in any station, it would be
comprised in this: 'Duty first; pleasure
second.' From what I have seen of
young men and their after progress I
am sutlsfled that what is generally
termed 'bad fortune,' 'lll luck' and
'misfortune' Is In nine cases out of
ten simply the result of inverting this
simple maxim. My own experience
convinces me that absence of success
arises in the great majority of cases
from want of self denial and want of
common sense. The worst maxim of
all maxims is, 'Pleasure first; work and
dntv necourl' "
While petty thieves are hanged, peo
ple take off their hats to great ones.—
Old German Proverb.
No. 10.
WAYS OF THE MOOSE
CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NOBLEST
OF ALL WILD ANIMALS.
The Urseat of the Deer Family, LIT.
la* or Extiaet-The Alaakan Ball
Moose Have the Greatest Antlers.
The Cow aad Her la*atnlr Calf.
Now and then In wanderings through
the mountain and forest one comes up
on a gigantic blackish brown deer
Which by reason of the great length of
its yellowish gray legs stands higher
than a tall horse. It is clothed in
coarse, bristly hair, longest on the neck
and shoulders, and It has a rather ugly
•verhanging nose which distinguishes
It at once from all other kinds of deer.
From the throat of the male hangs a
long hair covered appendage known as
the "bell," and in the fall and winter
he has also a pair of wldespreading
antlers, very heavy and much flattened
or "plamated." He stalks the forest
through undergrowth and over fallen
trunks like a king of giants, or, if
alarmed, he speeds away at an amaz
ingly swift swinging trot and with a
crashing which resembles the -sound of
felling trees. Such Is the moose, the
largest of all deer, living or extinct
The moose is chiefly an animal of the
northern woods, the southern limit of
its range being the head of Green riv
er, Wyoming. It is also found in
northern Maine, New Brunswick,
southern Canada, Idaho, British Colum
bia, Alberta, Athabasca, Yukon and
Alaska. It Is Btrlctly a dweller of the
forest seldom venturing to treeless
plains. It lives for the most part by
browsing on the leaves, twigs and bark .
of trees, particularly young trees. In
order to reach the tops of tall saplings
the moose rears up against them, strad
dling them with his long legs and lit
erally riding them down. He is fond
est of birch, hemlock, alder, aspen, wil
low and maple. He also eats mosses
and lichens.
In May the "cow," as the female
moose Is called, gives birth to a long
legged, ungainly, tawny colored calf,
to protect which the mother will fight
any woodland creature to the death.
She has no antlers, but she can use
her great sharp hoofs with the skill of
a prize tighter and has been known to
pound to death a large black bear and
fairly trample his body Into the
ground. The calf stays with Its moth
er for two or three years, or until he
wanders off to seek a mate for him
self. One day last summer I came sud
denly upon a cow moose standing knee
deep, in a shallow pond, while from
beneath her neck her grotesque looking
calf peered out at me with eyes wide
open, as if with astonishment I hur
ried home and returned with a camera,
but when I reached the spot they were
gone.
Like all American deer, the "bull"
moose sheds and renews his antlers
every year. They become full grown,
hard and sharp about the Ist of Octo
ber, the beginning of the breeding sea
son. At this "time of year the bulls are
very savage and not only fight furious
ly among themselves, but are apt to
attack anything or anybody who comes
in their way.
The call of the bull is a long drawn
bawl with several loud grunts at the
end. If there is a cow within hearing
she will answer with a low cry, and
the bull will come forward to meet
her. Hunters often take advantage of
this fact and attract the bull by an
imitation of the call of the cow, exe
cuted on a cone shaped horn made of
birch bark. Lying concealed on the
bank of a lake or stream, they give
out the call, and when the bull comes
within range they shoot him. But as
this trick is usually played at night
and as the bull sometimes never gives
any warning of his coming until he is
almost on the spot the sport Is apt to
be dangerous. The bull at such a time
is in no mood to be trifled with, and
unless the hunter is cool headed and a
good shot the moose Is not only willing
but very able to kill him and a dozen
like him If they happen to be on the
spot
Probably the largest moose of which
there Is reliable record was shot by
Carl Runglus, the animal painter. In
New Brunswick in 1901. This great
beast stood seven feet high at the
shoulders, and the length of its head
and body together was nine feet seven
inches. The Alaskan moose have the
largest antlers, and one pair from an
animal shot on the Kenai peninsula
has a spread of seventy-eight and a
half inches and has thirty-four points.
With the dry skull to which they are
attached these antlers weigh ninety
three and a quarter pounds, a weight
which nothing but an animal of gigan
tic strength could carry at top speed
over the roughest ground and through
thickly wooded country.
In the winter, when the sn,ow is deep,
the moose, sometimes several families
together, will gather in a certain sec
tion of woodland and be breaking out
paths for themselves over a space of
perhaps several acres from what is
known as a "yard," where, if not dis
turbed, they may stay for weeks to
gether. But the moose is able to travel
well at all seasons, and even In deep
snow his long legs enable him to move
at a pace which astonishes any hunter
who tries to run him down on snow
shoes.
A wild, free life Is the only one on
a moose can live and thrive. In
Captivity it is much less nervous than
most deer and Is disposed to be gentle
ond affectionate. But, as a rule, It will
live but a short time, even though It
gets the same food which It had in Its
native woods. It may appear to relish
its food, bnt it will grow to no great
size and In a short time will probably
die of Inflammation of the stomach.
This is one of the noblest wild ani
mals in the world, and It should be giv
en adequate protection throughout its
range.—Bangor Commercial.
Yoiif Hunter's Hard Lack..
"Some years ago," said a hunter,
"when I lived down on the eastern
shore of Maryland, where I was born,
I had passed a whole day gunning rab
bits and had not killed one. On my
way home through the woods I met a
boy who had a live rabbit. Ashamed to
go home empty handed, I gave the boy
25 cents for his rabbit.
"I then said to myself, 'I will tie
Mr. Rabbit to a bush and kill him, and
the folks at home will say Ed shot n
rabbit.' I took a shoestring and fas
tened the rabbit to a bush and then
stood off, took aim and fired. When the
gun had stopped kicking I saw Mr.
Rabbit flying through the woods. My
bullet had cut the shoestring In twain
and had set the little animal free."—
Baltimore American.
Amltigaooa EnglUh.
"Have you ever tried to explain the
various meanings of some of our Eng
lish verbs to a foreigner?" asked a lady
who employs many servants. "My
German maid went to the drug store
the other day for some headache medi
cine and returned very much puzzled.
" The man say, "Vlll you take It or
shall I send It?" ' she reported. 'Eef he
do not send It, how can I take it?" "