VOL. XXXXIII. w The "Black Hand" H w At Brown & Co's. S M Not the kind you have been reading of in the r€ papers recently—but the kind that hurts us and IJ helps you. M #—March Ist! March Ist!--# f F| Our reduction sale on Furniture will positively W close March Ist. Your opportunity is now F< j "«i||||-Look at These pricesi-lIlH"- u 4 Mahogany Davenport, was |B3. now ,1 Mahogany Library Caae, was $24.50, n0w.... 16.50 f < '1 Birdaeye Toilet Table, was sl2, now . 7.00 k 4 Mahogany Toilet Table. waf> sl7, now 11.00 W Oak B«1 Room Suit, was $45, now 35.00 'A Dresners that were 112 and sl4, now 9.00 This is the way you buy all over this store until March Ist, ►J only. Lot* at the saving—come take your choice of our immense V A atook and give as tke room at cnce. > J Carpets! Carpets! Carpets! j We will continue sale of Carpets as advertised, at COST. < ' Greatly reduced prices on all Brussels carpets and rugs of all 4 fcindu * k Bring the measure of vour room and make the saving from our | P laige stock of new patterns. W [I BROWN & CO. | n No. 136 North Main St., Butler. ft MEET THE QUEEN AT THE MODERN STORE- Great Muslin Underwear Sale This Week, ' The crowning event of the year. A multitude of bargains for the ladies. We contracted for these match less Queen undermuslins before the great advance in cottons. See Large Posters for Details. - Muslin garments of all sizes and Qualities and of the newest patterns and most handsomely trimmed sold at prices that will barely cover cost of matte rials. Prices at 10c, 15c, l»c, 25c, 38c, 50c, 75c, SI.OO. $1.25, $1.50, $1.75, $2 up to $4 90. Now is the time to put in your spring supply. An immense new line of white goods, ginghams, laces, spring drees goods, veilings, ribbons, etc, now on display. ' EISLER-MARDORF COrtPANY, EHIF \ 221 Samples sen, on request. OPPOSITE HOTEL ARLINGTON. BUTLER. PA I Duffy's Store 1 I Not one bit too early to think of that new Carpet, orl ■ perhaps you would rather have a pretty Rug —carpet ■ ■ size. Well, in either case, we can suit you as our Car-H ■ pet stock )s one of the largest and best assorted in But-H ■ ler county. Among which will be found the following: ■ ■ EXTRA BUPER ALL WOOL INGRAIN CARPETS, ■ H Heavy two and three ply 05c per yd and np ■ ■ HALF WOOL INGRAIN CARPETS, I ■ Best cotton chain 50c per yd and np H ■ BODY BRUSBELS. ■ H Simply no wear ont to these $1.35 yd H ■ TAPESTRY BRUSSELS. I H tyght tqade, but yery Qood 65c per yd up H ■ STAIR CARPETS ■ ■ Body and Tapestry Brussels, Half and All Wool Ingrains. H I HARTFORD AXMINBTERS, ■ H Prettiest Carpet made, as durable too $1.85 H ■ RAG CARPETB, Genuine old-fashioned weave. H I M ATTING, Hemp and Straw. B ■ RUGS-CARPET SIZES. ■ ■ Axminster Rugs, Beantiea too $22 each and np H ■ Brussels Rugs, Tapestry and Body sl2 each and up ■ H Ingrain Druggets, All and Half Wool $5 each and up H ■ Linoleums, Inlaid and Common, all widths and grades. H H Oil Cloths, Floor, Table, Shelf and Stair. H H Lace Curtains, Portiere, Window Shades, Curtain Poles; Small Hearth ■ ■ Rugs, all styles and sizes. H I Duffy's Store. I I MAIN STREET, BUTLER. I WHY You can save money by purchasing your piano of T ' W- . NfiWTPN, "The Piano Man/ The expense of running a Music Store Is as follows: Rent, per annum $780.00 Clerk, per annum $0i2.00 Lights, Heat and Incidentals . , , $194.00 Total $1286.00 I have no store and can save you this expense when you buy of me. I sell pianos for cash or easy monthly payments. I take pianos or organs in exchange and allow you what they are worth to apply on the new instrument All pianos fully warranted as represented. MY PATRONS ARE MY REFERENCE. A few of the people I have sold pianos in Butler. Ask them. Dr. MoCurdy Bricker Dr. W. P. McElroy Fred Porter Sterling Club Fraternal Order Eagles D F. Reed Epworth League Woodmen of the World ■B, W. Binithftta H. A. MePbereon ~» Geo. D. High " Miss Anna McCandless W J JMatS k I Black * 7 J. 5 Tbqmpeoß SamuelWoodsj jooeph Woodg Oliver Thompaan S. M McKoe John Johnson A. W Root R. A. Longwell Miss Eleanor Burton J. Hillgard Mrs. Mary L. Stroup J. E. Bowers W. C Curry C. F. Steppn F. J. Hauck W. J. Armstrong Miss Emma Hughes Miles Hilliard A. W. Mates Mrs. S. J. Green W. R. Williams J. R. Douthett Mrs. R. O. Rumbaugh E. K. Richey Chas E. Herr L. S. Youch PEOPLE'S PHONE 425. Subscribe for the CITIZEN -THE BUTLER CITIZEN. A A A dfc A A ifTi itfc titk A U BICKEL'S H v Great Bargain Sale. f] v An immense Stock of Seasonable Footwear to be * « i closed out in order to reduce our extremely > large stock. TJ I Big Bargains in All Lines, m i Ladies' Fnr Trimmed Felt Slippers, price *1.25-reduced to . 75c P£ ► Ladies' Warm Lined Shoes, price f I.so—reduced to fl.oo I m j Ladies' Warm Lined Shoes, price $1 2.>— reduced to H.>c la 1 ' One lot Ladies' 3.50 Hand-turn and Hand-welt Shoes reduced to 2.20 WA > One lot Ladies' 300 Fine Patent Leather Shoes, button or lace. I « red need to. ... ... 3.00 A { One lot Ladies' $l5O Fine Dongola Patent tip Shoes reduced to 1.65 WA ) One lot Ladies'l.so Fine Dongoia Patent tip Shoes rednced to 1.10 L'V i One lot Children's Fine Shoes, sizes 4to 8, reduced to 45c R, l One lot Infants's Fine Shoes, sizes ft to 4. rednced to 19c W A ► Men's Fine Box-calf, Vici-kid and Patent Leather shoes'. La i regular price #3.50 and |4.oo—reduced to ~'>o mj l Men's Working Shoes, regular price s2.oo— reduced to. ....... 140 WA One lot Boys' Fine Satin-calf Shoes, regular price 1.50-red dto 1.00 I » k One lot Men's Fine Slippers reduced to _ 40c Ladies' Lamb-wool Insoles, regular price 25c —reduced to 15c W A i Misses' and Children's Lamb-wool Insoles, regular price 20c—at 8c ► All Felt Boots and Overs, all Stockings and W ' Overs, Warm-lined Shoes and Slippers, also balance t * i of our stock of Leggins and Over-Gaiters to be in- m ) eluded in this GREAT BARGAIN SALE. i Sole Leather and Shoemakers' Supplies. I > Repairing Piomptly Done. n JOHN BICKELt | 128 S Main St., BUTLER. PA. B y TLER New buildiflgs, new rooms, elegant new equipment, excellent courses of study, best of teachers, expenses moderate, terms VERY LIBERAL! Over $2,000.00 worth of new typewriters in use (allowing advanced students' from 3 to 4 hours' practice per day), other equipment in proportion! Winter Term, Jan. 2, 1000. Spring Term, April 2, 190«. Positions secured for our worthy graduates. Visitors always welcome! When in Butler, pay us a visit. Catalogue and other literature mailed on ap plication. MAY ENTER ANY TIME. A. F. REGAL. Principal, Butler, Pa jj Fall and Winter Millinery. | 1: Everything in the line of Millinery can be found, $ f f the right thing at the right time at the right price at •*! j| ROCKENSTEIN'S | Phone 656. 148 S. Main St. • Pre-Inventory SALE, Preparatory to the ANNUAL STOCK-TAKING we will offer remarkable values at our PRE INVENTORY SALE OF MEN'S AND BOY'S CLOTHING. Owing to the extensive assort ment it is impossible to give a detailed descrip tion of all articles. We have planned to make this sale of greater importance than ever, and will place on sale thoroughly reliable and stylish apparel at figures that are below all possible com petition. There is something worth investigat- I ing in every line of the magnetic bargains. SCHAUL& LEVY 137 South Main Street. Butler. Pa. r ' .s>{ 7VLEIN f j , "■ i. f. , ' -r, j] Won't buy clothing for the purpose of i [ " spending money. They desire to get the i! f!! best possible results of the money expended. U' j ' , Those who buy enstom clothing have a I i :■ '• j) j t right to demand a fit, to have their clothes /ST! I • t . . '■ correct in style and to demand of the / A\\- -t'-.nj'] seller to guarantee everything. Come to -Xkyili. C'V 'l. us and there will be nDthine; lacking. I iq havejnst received a large slock of Fall i\ ' . lij and Winter anitinga in the latest styles, [ f \ s ' i? f and colors. m-l j G..F. KECK, S.« • wU MERCHANT TAIfeOR, 142 N. Main St., Qutl?r, Pa I J. Q. &W. CAMPBELL, ' ■ J BUI LE, PA. BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1900. r I THE GIRL AT THE Y By SEWARD W. HOPKINS Copyriyhl. WOO. by K. A. Whitehead The up express was due to pass at 1 o'clock, but !t did not stop. Graham would not have been In tlie office at all, only he had same money in the safe and had received orders by wire to sleep in the station that night. He did not know how much there was. It had come in a sealed package, locked in a small pouch. He knew it was pay day on the new branch then building en the Ist, and this was the 31st. "Why can't they send a pay car?" asked Graham of himself. "Too confounded mean," he muttered. The hours dragged slowly, but Gra ham found some solace in thinking of Miss Delaine. Miss Delaine was from Chicago. She was visiting the daughter of Silas Jones, whom she had met at school. Miss Jones was tall, big and strong; Miss Delaine was dainty. . Miss Jones, with the advantage of her boarding school years, dressed well; ' Miss Delaine dressed better. Graham had suddenly felt a peculiar sensation when Miss Delaine got off the local at Naomi. He knew that Silas was going to have company. He had no idea the company was built more on the fleeting vision plan than any other. "If Silas don't feed that girl up he will be all out of company." Graham had said. "She's almost gone now." Graham was a husky fellow and had been at Naomi two months when Miss Delaine appeared. As Graham board ed with Silas he had an opportunity to study her well. "No more turkey hunts while she's here," he grumbled to himself. Miss Delaine took the grumble out of him when she proposed a shoot, and the three went to the scrubs, and Miss Delaine brought down live to his three and Miss Jones ene. Miss Delaine proved to have more get up and get in her diminutive body than Graham acknowledged in his five feet ten. She could box big Miss Jones all over the barn floor; she could climb a cherry tree In a light summer frock and come down as neat as she went np; she could swim better than Miss Jones and dive as deep as Graham. She could play the most charming waltzes and sing the prettiest songs. She had not been at Naomi two weeks before she was singing in the choir, and Graham made the harrowing dis covery that he sang bass. So on this night Graham consoled himself by thinking gloomy thoughts about Miss Delaine. "I'd be a fool to ask her and a brute to expect her to accept if I did ask." He said this with almost a groan. "Why couldn't it have been Fan?" Fan was Miss Jones. "B"'t, no; she'll marry Larklns, and if Delaine was poor I'd marry Uer." He knew she was rich. Sbe had of ten spoken about "our railroad." James Delaine was president of the Q. and B. Disconsolate, he smoked his pipe. He wondered how much money there was in the safe. He knew the payroll must be long. He had read last Sunday's paper a dozen times and gone ofT to sleep and nearly fallen off the chair which he had tilted back. He had left the door open for air. The night was warm. "Hello there, young follor!" came a voice. He turned toward the door and looked into the barrel of a big revolver. "Hold up your hands!" "Er— I am agent here," stammered Graham. "Oil, w* know that. You keep yer mouth shut. We'll do tbe rest." "I won't submit to robbery, if that Is what you mean," said Graham. "Robbery, eh? Won't submit, eh? Well, young feller, ye don't look much like a fool. Under the circumstances I wouldn't advise yer to be one even If ye do know how. I've got two partners here, and the first yawp out of ye will mean a game o' shootin' big. Now, Jim." Another fellow came iu and went through Graham's pockets. "Now, young feller," said tlie leader after Jiiu had deposited an express re volver on the table, "just tell us the combination to that safe." "I refuse." "What did I say about bein' a fool? Say, I'll give you three minutes to make up your mind. You'll either give us the combination or I'll put a hole through you. Now, one." Graham was silent. Jim was working at the safe. The third cauie in and grinned at the pic ture Graham made, "Pretty boy," he said. "Three." Graham opened his mouth to speak. "Ain't 110 use sayin' anything unless It's the combination." "Aw, kill him. We can blow open the safe." Graham knew that these men meant business. They would as soon take a life as eat. Ho could see his revolver lying where Jim had placed it. If only he could divert the leader's attention while he grabbed his own re volver he would take a chance. Gra ham was no coward. He fixed bis eyes on the door, nodding to some Imag inary person behind the leader. Tho bandit laughed. "See that, Bill? He don't know how old that trick Is. Young feller, that trick was old before you were born. Give us another." "It is no trick!" shouted Graham. "I am not afraid of you, but don't let that bear in here." He looked frightened. The one call ed Bill looked. Graham had moved a few steps forward. "Are you goin' to open that safe?" "I tell you to shoot him," said bill. "He's tried to fool us twice. No bear outside." Graham could see the desperado growing blacker. He knew that after he had opened the safe for them thoy would shoot him to prevent identifica tion. It had been done many times be fore. He resolved to sell his life fighting rather than yielding. He suddenly darted toward his revolver, but the leader was too quick. He had been expecting that. The revolver was sim ply a lure. He fired, and Graham fell with a bullet in his side. "Now, hang you, If you wan{ a show for your life give us tue combination." Graham was gasping. He was wait ing for the next shot that would kill him. Suddenly there was a sharp crack— the smashing of glass—another—and another Thp leader was down, with s> bullet In his heart, shot through the back. Jim lay writhing near the safe. Bill had pitched forward aqd | was grasping the side for support. Then an apparition appeared at the • door. A bit of a girl stood there, her face white, a rifle in her hands. She was so small she looked like a child. Oraliam saw her. "You —you, Miss Delaine—at half past 1 ? How—how"— She calmly gazed at the result of her lightning work. "To tell you the truth, I was afraid and came here to sleep. After you left" she was examining his wound while she spoke—"Charley Jones came over on horseback and said Mr. Jones' brother was dying. I was out in the orchard, and they could not find me and thought probably I was with you. I returned to the house and could not get in. I had left my key in the house. I man aged to get a window open and went in that way, but I was afraid to go to sleep. I could sit up without fear, be cause I always feel safe with my rifle. But I was dead tiped after the dance last night, and I wanted to sleep. I thought I'd risk the talk and come here. It was nearest. I heard the shot and knew you were in trouble. I ran and got here just in time. Can you nin the sender?" "I guess so," he said feebly. "Wire to order that express to stop here." She even knew the stations. Graham dragged himself to the table, got his call and clicked off the mes sage. At 2 the express came roaring and rumbling in. "What the mischief's the row here?" bawled a heavy voice, and a powerful man in a silk hat and black frock coat stood with mouth agape while a frac tion of what Would make a fair sized girl slid, unconscious, to the floor. "Nan, my girl, here?" said the big man. "Here, tell Hawkins to come here." Hawkins was Mr. Delaine's pri vate secretary and an operator. "Hawkins, get Burns and stay bere till relieved by a new man. This man won't come back. He'll either go to jail or the head of a division. Get Nan into the stateroom. Get a doctor. There must lie one on the train. Get a woman to take care of Nan. Take this man—his name Is Graham—into the coach. Guard that safe as well as I think Graham has. There is a pack of money in there. Evans said he feared a holdup, and I sent the money yester day with orders for Graham to stay all night. But what I dou't understand is what—what Nan—at this time of night"— It was not many hours before the whole story was told. "Well," said Mr. Delaine, "you have told a good story, but I know a better one. I'll tell it when I see the result of Graham's injuries." "Yes, I know one as good as yours, but it won't be time to tell It until yours Is told. And, papa, won't you be surprised?" "Um—not a lot," said the president. The other two stories were told. Gra ham is now second vice president, which was Delaine's story, and Nan Is liis wife, which was Nan's. Now Miss Jones goes to see Mrs. Graham and travels In a private Pullman with the second vice presidential guardianship for her safety. fltyrt lng Willi ui< ti. There can be little doubt that the ox was the earliest beast employed for the plow. A white bull and a white cow were yoked together to draw the furrow for making the walls of Itomc. Greeks and Romans employed oxen In plowing; asses only for sandy soils. When the plowman had finished his day's labor he turned the instrument upside down, and the oxen went home dragging its tail and handle over the surface of the ground, a scene describ ed by Horace. The yoking together of ox and ass was expressly forbidden by the law of Moses and is made the ground of a lu dicrous comparison by Plautus. Ulys ses. when he feigned madness in order to avoid going on the Trojan expedi tion, plowed with an ox and a horse together. The North Star. The north star is exactly in line with the poles of the earth—that is to say, it is exactly north of the earth—which Is the reason why its position with ref erence to us does not change by the revolution of the earth upon its axis. Tho reason Its position does not seem to change by the annual revolution of the earth around the sun is that it fs bo many billions of miles away that the difference in direction from differ ent points of the earth's orbit is i pereeptible. GIFTS TO JOCKEYS. Qurfr Itfivnrdu and llemlndern That Come to tlie Rider*. One of tlie greatest of living Jockeys has a most remarkable collection of tributes from admirers, unknown uud otherwise. It contains, among other gtrange things, pawn tickets, writs and f ammonscs contributed by unsuccess ful backers of his mounts, talismans of all kinds to bring him luck In his races, sermons and tracts for his spir itual welfare, recipes for all kinds of ailments, from coughs to a tendency to corpulence, forms for insuring against accidents, offers of marriage, accompanied by bundles of photo graphs of would be wives, welshers' tickets and a pair of woruout boots with tlie legend: "All that is left of them after walking froui York to Lon don. Backed all your mounts." A few years ago, after his horse had lost an important race, a well known turfman went up to the Jockey and made him a formal and public pres entation of a silver snuffbox, saying that if he would look inside he would see the kind of horse he ought to ride in future. The Jockey opened the box and found In It half a dozen fat snails. It was the same satirical owner who on another occasion presented his jock ey with a sumptuous casket, which on being opeued disclosed a wooden spoon, and to a third jockey who had fnllwd to win an important race he handed a pair of crutches bought from a beg gar on the course. When John Singleton, a clever jock ey of nearly two centuries ago, first won a race in Yorkshire the farmer whoso horse ho had ridden to victory was so delighted with his achievement that he made him a present of a ewe, whose offspring soon mustered a round dozen, and really started the ex-shep herd lad on his career as a jockey. Singleton was very proud of and grate ful for his singular fee. In this respect he furnished a great contrast to a well known Jockey who wheu a check for $1,500 was hapded tq him by the owner of a horse on which he had won a race crumpled it up con temptuously, with the remark tliat he had "often received more for riding a " —<'■!•!—•«»« Vouio Didn't Siml To, "It's too bad," snid tho Judge caustic ally, "that the defendant should havo chosen you for counsel. You know j nothing about law." "Well, your honor," replied the young ! lawyer, "I don't need to In this court.* I _Ptii)flrlAlnhlfl Ptau 1 SHE CHANGED HER MIND By JELANNE O. LOLZEAUX j j C«p vri'jUt. 130!, fijy Ruby Douglas L =- r ~~ ,jg Marion ro<le at an angry gallop. Tlie Uust was thick and the heat intense cvfu for July—no weatiier for riding. Hie girl wore a neat blue gown, and a wide straw hat shaded her golden hair and clouded blue eyes. As she passed the hayfield, midway between her fa ther's farm and Jim Bradley's, Jim himself stepped to the road and motion ed her to stop. She reigned the rough bay colt up with difficulty ami pushed her lover's hand away when he laid it o:i her arm. She gave him no chance to spenU. "Now, don't say anything. I shall ride whatever horse I please. See how quiet he Is, anyway. Well, suppose I am killed? Then you will be free to marry Agnes, since you seem to like her so well. You can ride with her every day. You are free now, for that matter!" She knew It was an unjust remark, but jealousy had the upper hand. Jim liradley was every inch a man, tall and good looking. His dark eyes flashed, and his jaw set. He had seen Marion in a temper before. He tried to explain. "But, dearest, she only overtook me on my way to town. It was not planned by either of us, and I have al ways known her, as I have you. Would you have me tell her you did not allow me to ride a mile with a neighbor? Where's the harm? You know whom I love, dear." "She's always after you. She's In love with you. She"— "No, she is not, but if she were ought you to be angry with me? And even then should you blame her? You love me yourself, don't you? Com A dear, be reasonable. Let me lead the brute home, and, if you must ride and get a sunstroke, get it on a safe horse." Ills masterful air of possession irritated her as much as it ordinarily pleased her. "I dou't love you. I hate you! Come on, Prince." She gave the reins a little slap, and the colt danced and snorted wildly. Jim caught him l>y the bridle. He spoke with repressed anger. "Well, love me or not, you shall get down! You shan't break your, neck just to break my heart. You know plenty of other ways of doing that Prince has not been saddled half a dozen times, and I know your father docs not allow you to ride him, though you are an old hand at horses. And you know perfectly well that Agnes is nothing but a friend. She cares noth ing for me. She's a nice girl"— "That's it—stand up for "her, Jim Bradley! She told Sue Field that she would take you from me, and she's done it. Not that I care—much. Let Prince go, I say!" "I will not. I shall take you down and have your father forbid you to mount him. to mako trouble. Agues never said or thought a thing like that." Marion sat quietly a moment, as if to obey his command to dismount. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks glowing. He dropped the bridle and came to reach his arms up for her. Then sud denly the demon of prido seized her agaiu. She gave Prince a cut that sent him out of Jim's reach with one bound. "Goodb.v," she called. "You are free. I wouldn't marry you if you—l would have to be dead and come to life again before I would say I love you!" The horse was off at an unruly gal lop. Jim was angry, but his heart stood still as he watched the little blue figure riding away so lightly. Untrust worthy as he knew the colt to be, she seemed to have him under fine control. She could tame anything but her own temper; it was a way she had. Per haps her own unruly spirit made the conquest of others easy. Of all her suitors-and she was much sought— only Jim had ever held his own and refused to bow utterly under the yoke of her will. That was why she loved him and quarreled with him—and had always come back to him. He was the stronger, and, while at times she re sented his power over her, she also gloried in it. This was the worst she had ever done —defied him, broken her promise to marry him, risked her life to wring his heart. He watched horse and girl fly from him over the level road. Then he shouldered his hayfork, walked swift ly to her father's place, entered the de serted barnyard—the men were all in the fields—closed the open barn door and waited with set jaw. Meantime Marion and the colt were having a grand ride past grain lands and groves and farmhouses, flying past meadow and hayfleld. The brisk mo tion, the wind lu her face, cooled the girl's anger a little and made her ashamed. She thought with a pang that she had gone too far this time that she could never make It up with Jim now she had been a fool. Then she remembered coming back from shopping with Sue and meeting him riding gayly to town with Agnes Sutherland, with whom she had warred from the A BCs up. Jim had always had a fondness for her. Her wrath rose agaiu, and she twitched the bridle. Prince was tired and beginning to be a bit sulky and nervous. With horse womanly instinct she humored without yielding to him, let him drink at a roadside trough and turned his head for home. As they reached Field's farm she no ticed preparations for thrashing going on. The great red thrasher stood wait ing for the engine, and men and horses were standing all about the conical yel low stacks. Sue came from the house and called to her to stop, which she did* to the colt's disgust. Sue leaned on the fence, and the two girls chatted a mo ment. "You better get off till the engine comes, Marlon. You might meet It. You've no business on that crazy colt. It isn't safe. I don't see how Jim al lows it!" Marten's face flamed. "What has he to say? I am not en gaged to him any more. I" Sue gasped, then, with remorse—too late, as usual—remembered what she had told her friend on the way from town that day. "Marlon, yuu weren't ever fool enough not to know I wits joking? What Ag nes really said was that Jim was so silly about you he didn't hear what she said half the time. Oh. May, I'm so sorry!" But Marion did not wait. She rode away. Prince settled into an ugly, obstinate gallop, swerving and jolting. They were nearing the crossing when an unearthly shriek made Marion look up to see the thrasher engine approach ing. She urged Prince on, trying to reach the corner where the road turned toward home before the m&ghiae came J closer, licr Lunula trembled, but she | remembered tbat it is fatal to lose nerve witb an unruly horse. Prince snorted, laid back bis ears, but went on well enough. They were almost at the corner when the fiendish shriek came again. The colt took the bit in his teeth und bolted in utter terror. Marion knew her danger and kept her head as they . turned tl.e corner. She let ber bat go, i and the wind whipped he# long hair ; back like a yellow banner. She spoke I to the colt soothingly, patted his neck. 1 tried to got the bit from his teeth— all | lu vain. They were still a mile from home and going so fast that the mo tion was as easy as the rocking of a cradle. If they met no teams and he kept to the road all might yet be well, but be might throw her. lie swerved at the bridge and nearly dragged her against the railing. She felt cold perspiration on her face. It seemed like the end of things. She ; thought of Jim—all he had been, all he ; was to her, what she bad said to him— and now she— might—never be able to say she was sorry, that she loved him— get him to forgive her. She recalled a baby prayer, a little brother long dead, thought of her mother's face when they would take ber home. As they neared the house she remembered that she had uot weeded the pausy bed. Everything wavered strangely in her mind. As they passed the windows she saw her little sister's baby face. As the colt tore around the corner to the gate aud Into the yard she grew cold with horror. She had left the barn door open. lie would make for his stall and crush her. It went suddenly dark before ber, and her head swam. Jim— she wanted to call his name, but could not. He would have saved her, she thought. Against the closed door stood a brim ming pail of cold water. As Prince stopped with a jerk that threw Marion from her seat Jim Bradley came quiet ly up. She was hanging by all ber skirts, that had caught on the pommel. Only a quick hand and a steady one could have disengaged her as he did. He drew ber into the shade and held her close. She opened her eyes and looked up into his white face. It was like heav en to her. "Jim:" she said. "Jim"' "Are yon hurt—arc you hurt? Mar lon, are you all right?" She drew a long breath, stood up and walked a step to show him she was uninjured. Then she went close to him and put her hands on his shoulders. Her face was very serious. "Jim," she said, "I have changed my mind." He saw a queer little light in her eyes and was wary. "About what—Prince?" ~ "About you. Couldn't you—ask me if I—love you? I think that I wouldn't have to lie to say—yes." Jim tried to get hold of her, but she held off. "I want to tell you what I think of myself. Don't you speak. I am a hor rid little—beast. Yes, I did say 'beast.' Will you—take me back?" Jim thought he would. Thackeray's Disfigured None. That George Venables, Thackeray's schoolmate, was not entirely responsi ble rot-TneUdveTTsTs disfigured nose Is to be gathered from the autobiography of Sir Wemyss Reid. On one occasion, when both Venables and Reid were visiting Lord Houghton, Reid bluntly asked his fellow guest who broke Thackeray's nose. "It was winter, and we were walking In Indian file through the woods. As I put this quest Ipn to Venables he sud denly stopped and, turning around, glared at me in a manner that instantly revealed the terrible truth to my alarm ed Intelligence. He continued to glare for several seconds, and then, apparent ly perceiving nothing but innocent con fusion, not unmixed with alarm, on my face, his features became relaxed Into a more amiable expression. 'Did any body tell you,' he said slowly and with solemn emphasis, 'to ask me that ques tion?' I could truthfully say that no body had done so. My answer seemed to mollify Venables at once. 'Then, If nobody put you up to asking that ques tion, I don't mind answering it. It was I who broke Thackeray's nose. We were only little boys at the time aud quarreled over something and had the usual fight. It wasn't my fault that he was disfigured for life. It was all the fault of some wretched doctor. Nowa days a boy's nose can bo mended so that nobody can see that It has ever been broken. Let me tell you,' he con tinued. 'that Thackeray never showed me any ill will for the harm I had done him, and I do not believe he felt any.' " DARING WILD BRUTES, Tl«e Panthers of India and How They Secure Tlielr Prey. In certain parts of India the panther is named "bipat," which meaus calam ity, for he Is au ever present scourge ainoug the people. His proper name is tendwa. It is the habit of these pan thers for a family of them to quarter themselves on a circle of villages with in convenient distance of their nightly prowllngs. As soon as the sun is below the horizon they sally forth from the cover of the surrounding forests and watch the paths by which the village herds and llocks return to their resting places. If a meal cannot be secured then, later ou they enter a village and patrol the dark lanes in the boldest manner. Nothing comes amiss to them that is not too large and heavy for their strength. Children, dogs, goats and the young cattle arc their favorite quarry. They are bold enough to dash into a hut even with a light burning in It, seize their prey, then rush away with lightning speed and, with a noiselessncss that Is marvelous, retreat with their prize to the nearest cover and there devour It. In the morning the poor villager, following the tracks of the retreating animal, soon arrives at the few re mains of his goat or calf or maybe his child. In the following way the natives get their revenge: A stray dog Is caught lu the village and is tied out on the path generally frequented by the panther family. The bait Is carried off during the night and devoured close by. Next day a machan (platform) is fixed in a convenient tree, and lu the evening a kid Is tied on the spot occupied by the dog on the previous night. The sports man settles himself in the machan be fore sunset nnd begins his watch. Terrified by his louely position, the kid begins a frantic bleating, which soon attracts the panther marauders, which are skulking about near the spot where they found their last meal. A short Htalk soou brings them to the kid and directly under the concealed sportsman, who shoots Uio beasts. It is impossible to follow the panthers into the Impenetrable cover they fre quent, and they never show themselves lu daylight— Chicago News. UlfU>h aa She la Written. The publication which was once brought out iu Portugal bearing the title 'English as She Is Spoke" has for No. C. a long time enjoyed a worldwide repu tation. Tourists on the continent of ■Europe sometimes come across exam ples of English quite as curious as tbat of the Portuguese author. In the bedroom of a hotel at Genoa the following notice was found: "The lamentations of the waiters are obliged to l>e made at the bureau." It was in a hotel also, and not a church, that the following request was made in writ ing: "Visitors ar<> prayed into dinner when the bell rings, that they may not disturb the order of the service." There is a hotel advertisement ih Calais sta tion to the following effect: "Quit® a peculiar unlmatlon resides at this fash ionable spot of Paris. In the rear the grand opera of a splendid architecture ou one side of the Grand hotel, entirely made afresh and in a more extensive way, is the meeting of all strangers of distinction." Finally, this curious leg end has recently been seen on a notice board on a garden wall In Jersey, one of the Channel islands: "Any dog found in this garden the proprietors of the dog paid one pound sterling for each timaa " A THIMBLE OF GOLD IT IS MADE OF METAL ALLOYED DOWN TO FOURTEEN CARATS. The Process of Manufacture, From the Ingot a of Pure Uold Fresh From the Suhtreasury to the Fialahed Shining Product. Out of whatever part of the earth It may originally have been dug, the gold from which thimbles are made in Phil adelphia was bought at the United States subtreasury in the city in the form of snug little Ingots, brick shaped and about two and a half inches long, an inch and a quarter wide and about an inch thick. These little ingots would be of a con venient size for paperweights. But they would be rather heavy for such use and probably too expensive for most people, for each one contains, of pure gold, 24 carats fine, metal of the value of about SOOO. Gold of this fineness would be much too soft for thimbles, and it is alloyed down to 14 carats, In which condi tion it is rolled into sheets of suitable thickness. In the first process of man ufacture a sheet of this gold is run into a machine which cuts out of it a disk in size sufficient to form a thim ble, the same machine stamping this disk also into the form of a straight sided capsule with irregular edges. Then the thimble blank goes Into an other machine, in which a die Btamps it into its conical 6bapc. Out of this ma chine it goes into an annealing fur nace for tempering and from that into an acid bath for cleaning and the re moval of the fire coating. Then the thimble is put into a lathe to be turned down to Its final shape and dimensions. It is dull colored when it goes into the lathe, but at the first touch of the keen edged Cutting tool it shows a glistening narrow band of bright gold surface, which is widen ed in a moment to cover the whole length of the thimble as the skillful worker shifts the tool along. With repeated of the tool the operator Liingc (lie W Ten of thimble into its perfect form and cuts down along the thimble's sides to bring the walls of the thimble to the requi site thickness, and he defines and fin ishes the smooth band that runs around the lower part of the thimble and brings Into relief the rounded rim that encircles the thimble at its opening at once to give it a finishing ornamental grace there and to stiffen it The glis tening little gold shavings that he cuts off in these various operations all fall Into a canvas trough suspended be tween him and the bench upon which stands the lathe. With that last touch to its rim In this stage of making the former has grown , marvelously more thlmble-llke in ap pearance, but somehow it still lacks the breath, so to speak, of thimble life; it lacks yet the familiar indentations in its surface that serve to support the needle and to hold it In place. These the thimble maker now proceeds to make, and the making of these Is nice work indeed. It is dqpe with a tool called a knurle. There is an end knurle and a side knurle. An end knurle Is simply a han dle having set in it a tiny, thin revolv ing wheel of steel, upon whose periph ery Is a continuous encircling row of little bosses or knobs corresponding In size to the Indentations to be made. The side knurle has in place of such a wheel a little steel cylinder of a length sufficient to cover that section of the thimble that is to be Indented on its sides, this cylinder having knobs all over Its surface, as the end knurle wheel has around its edges, and turn ing, like the wheel, on Its axis. The thimble in the lathe Is turning with 2,500 revolutions a minute, and it seems as though the application to its surface of any sort of tool with pro tuberances on it must leave there only a Jangled and mixed up lot of irregular marks. But now with the end knurle the thimble maker makes an indenta tion In the center of the top of the thim ble, and then he proceeds rapidly and with perfect certainty with the end knurlo to describe around that center concentric rings of indentations, with the Indentations all perfectly made and the rings all perfectly spaced, from the center to the circumference of the top. You may see him do this, but you can't tell how he is able to do it And then with the side knurle he-makes the indentations in the 6ldes of the thim ble, making there as well, as he deftly presses the tool against it, indentations that run absolutely uniform and true and that end at their lower edge in a perfectly true encircling line. It is astonishing and a pleasant thing to see how it develops and comes to Itself with the making of these fa miliar indentations, and now there re mains to be done to it only the polish ing inside and out and you have the finished gold thimble.—Philadelphia Press. llow Exclamations Originate. "Halloo" and "hurrah," which are among the exclamations in common use, can bo traced to curious origins. The author of "The Queen's English" tells us that the people of Camwood forest, Leicestershire, when they wish to hail any one at a distance call out not "halloo," but "halloup." This, he takes it, is a survival of the times when one cried to another "A loup! A loup!" or, as we should say, "A wolfl A wolf!" "Hurrah," according to high suthorlty. Is derived from the Slavonic "huraj," "to paradise," a battle cry which voiced the prevailing belief that all soldiers who fell In the fight went straight up to paradise. Pearson's Weekly. Her Contribution. Visiting Philanthropist—Good morn ing, madam. I am collecting for the Drunkards' home. Mrs. McGuire— Gbure I'm glad of It sor. If ye come around tonight yez can take my hus band.— Harper's Weekly. - - ""S ' • v. ■ i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers