A Tragedy In Pall Mall. With terrific speed they drove down St. James's street into Pall Mall, and stopped dead scarce an inch from the curbstone. There were two men on the box, and an heraldic design in pur ple and gold glistened on the door/ The footman bounded to the ground and turned the knob nervously. A slender woman, dressed in mourn ing, stepped quickly from the carriage, her eyes red and swollen. Following closely in her wake, and steadied by the footman, came her maid, bearing in her arms a bundle of something wrapped In a white cashmere shawl. (Unearthly wails fell upon the air. It was heartrending to hear them. Evi dently the" came from within the depths of that white cashmere. "Poor darling!" I heard the little woman exclaim. "Don't jolt him, Fe lice!" and together they hurried up a narrow stairway, at the bottom of which I read on a brass plate, "Sur geon-dentist." "The blamed pup!" blurted the coach man, "to raise such a row over a dog's toothache!" Then I understood.—.London Express. Tlie Paris Oliost Mystery. The Paris "ghost mystery," in which a whole neighborhood is disturbed nightly by the cries of a child for help, remains as impenetrable as ever. There Is absolutely no doubt as to the reality of the cries. The Chief of Police has listened in the vicinity of the "haunted house,"and has heard them himself. The house from which" the cries appear to come has, however, been thoroughly searched, with no re sult. The police are now inclined to believe that the cries are a practical joke on the part of a very clever ventriloquist. He must be very persevering, though, as the sensation is now several weeks old.—raris correspondence In New York Times. Kindles Can Wear Shoes One size smaller after using Alien's Foot- Ease, n powder tor the feet, it makes tight or new shoes easy. Cures swollen, bot, sweating, aching feet, ingrowing nails, 3ornsan<t bunions. At all druggists and shoe stores, 25c. Trial package FREE by mall. Address Allen S. Olmsted, Le Boy, N. Y. A man may make his mark in the world without making it a dollar mark. What Shall We Have For Dessert? This question arises in the family daily. Let as answer ft to-day. Try Jeil-O, a delicious ind healthful dessert. Prepared in 2 mln. No boiling! no baking I Simply add a little hot water A set to cool. Flavors: Lemon, Orange, Raspberry and Strawberry. At grocers. 10c. It's the man with an elastic conscience . who stretches the truth. TIM Best FreserlptlM for Chills ! and Purer Is a bottls of GBOVA'I TASTILBM CHILL TONIC. It is simply iron and quinine In a tastelssa form. No curs—no pay. Pries 500. i Some men are too busy making money j to find time to spend it. Carter's Ink Is Used by the rreatest railway systems of the United Stats*. ' They would not use it if it wasn't the best. Modesty is sometimes only another I aame for deceit. Piso's Cure is the best medicine we ever used 1 for all affections of throat and lungs.— WM. 0. ENDSLEY, Vanburen. Ind.. Feb. 10, 1900. The undertaker never requires a rehear sal. Conductor E. D. Loomis, Detroit, Mich., lays: "The effect of Hall's Catarrh Cure is wonderful." Write hlni about it. Sold by Druggists. 75c. The sulphur mines of Sicily yield over 300,000 tons a year. The Pinkham Record la a proud and peerleaa record* It la a record of oure, of oonatant con quest over obatlnate Ilia ; of women 112 Ilia thai deal out doapalr; aufferlng that many women think la woman 'a natural heri tage; dlaordera and dla placements that drive out hopom ourea theae troublea of women, and roha men atruatlon of Ita terrors. No woman need be with out the safest and aureat advice, for Mra• Pinkham counaola women free of charge» Her addreaa la Lynn, Maaam * Can any woman afford to Ignore the medicine and the advice that haa cured a million women 7 ■lf IN CHILDREN ARE ■UfhttMAA veritable demons, WW 111 and must bo quickly W ■ ■ m■ ■ removed or serious results may follow. The medicine which for the past 60 years has held the record for successfully rid ding children of these pests Is Krey'a Vermifuge—made entirely from vege table products, containing no calomel. 25 cts. at druggists, country stores or by mall, postpaid. E. A S. FBET, Balttmore, Md. ADVERTISIWG7 N .v;:'^l'!.■a.^'^ M Best Cough Syrup. Tastes Good. Csc M Cd in time. Sold br druwriats. N»f THE PORTRAIT. By Fanny Kemble Johnson Such a careless, gay, young face Thero above you on the wail— She was married, do you know, Near a hundred years ago, Here, within this very hull. l'hey made wives of children, then- She was not as old as you— Just fifteen, said they that knew, And her eyes, you see, were blue As that morning-glory, dear, That the wind has tossed in here. There came days, my little one, When the menace of a shame, And a levelled foreign gun Lighted all the land to flame— And there came an hour when. After sob, and kiss, and prayer, In the little porch out there, She was left alone, alone. Just to make her useless moan. Just to dait, and wait, and wait, For the hand upon the gate. For the step that never came. Ah, the pity of it, dear! They made wives of children, then. And of boys they molded men— Men to put the love-dream by, Men to do, and men to die, As he died, my little one. Flere, within this very hall. Where she gave her childhood's all. Where she played at wifely state, Where she sobbed all desolate, IVar, at last an hour came When they brought him home to her, And the gladnesses that were Vanished ns a sunken flame. For they laid him at her feet With a sword-thrust in the breast That her youthful head had pressed In the old days, and the sweet. Such a careless, gay, young face, There above you on the wall,— Near a century of death. Sob. and prayer, and laughing breath* How the face smiles over all! —Youth's Companion. | UNCLE THOMAS, j "To whom are yon writing now? I declare, I never came to see you that I don't find you with that everlast ing ink-stand open and the pen just ready to dip," and Ruth Boyden tossed her gloves on the stand, her hat on the bed. und her jacket in the big chair. Then she proceeded to give May G lea son nil enthusiastic hug. "Who is it? Tell me quick!" "Oh, you crazy. It isn't always the same one. This morning it's Tom." "Tom ? Tom who?" "Tom? Oh, just Tom. Uncle Tom. if you must have all the particulars." "Well, then, May Gleason, I should think you would say Uncle Tom. I think it does sound so rude and dis courteous when children t'ail to give their relatives their proper title. There's Joe Kenney always calls his mother Helen, and his father Joe. I'd lecture you well if you were my niece." "Oh, Tom doesn't care." "How do you know he doesn't care? His feelings might be very much hurt, and he would not say a word, just suffer in silence. Old people are very sensitive." May giggled, though Kuth couldn't see a thing to laugh at. "I think just as you do about it, and I'm going to reform. Now what shall we do? You haven't seen my new idea for sarhets. have you? Wait, till I wipe my pen and cover the ink, for it's sure to tip itself over if the cover isn't screwed on tight." One morning later in the season, Ruth Boyden received a note frarn .her friend, which read something like this: "Dear Ruth —Can you come up to tea to-night? I have just had a letter frovi Tom, I mean Uncle Tom. and he is coming here for a few days be fore starting on a trip west. I should like to have you meet him, for he is my dearest relative. Wear your maroon trimmed with sable, you do look so superb In that. Come early by 5 o'clock, so we can talk. Tom, I mean Uncle Tom, doesn't get here till the 0 train. Your most devoted May." Ruth dressed herself in the maroon dress, and as she studied the reflection In the mirror she hoped he would feel satisfied with May's nearest friend. "I must try to be dignified and quiet. Old people don't ever like fly-away girls. Of course May has told him all about me. I do hope she hasn't over rated me. She thinks the world of Uncle Tom, and some way I should like him to be pleased with me. I am going to carry my lace handker chief that Mrs. Baker gave me. It will make talk, for plie was a returned missionary and I am sure there is no thing better than that work. Almost ail old people are interested in that." "Oh, Ruth, you darling," was May's eager greeting. "I nm so r;lad jou wore that. I tlo think the white yoke and the fur bands round the neck and wrists do soften the tints so, Tom," there was a catch in her voice, "I mean Uncle Tom, is such a judge of beauty. But don't be alarmed, he will like you, I know—and your lace handkerchief, too—l am honored." "I really put it onto have something to talk about, you know. Does your uncle enjoy missionary work?" May half snickered and then covered it with a cough, but she liastehed away with Ruth's wraps; while she was going she laughed heartily. Her face, when she re entered the room, was gravity itself. Ruth tried to find out some of Uncle Tom's tastes, but May avoided the subject, and Ruth finally decided to trust to luck to show her what to say and do. A little past 0 there was a commo tion outside, and from the station cab Uncle Tom descended. He was wel comed at the door by May's mother, i and May excused herself to grevt htm. saying: Ob, Ruth, he 1B the haud< somest, dearest man." "I'm glad to see you, Tom, and 1 have a friend here to meet you." "The friend?" was the laughing question. "The only," was the reply. "I pre dict you'll say so, too." Tea was called in a few minutes, and so Ruth did not meet Uncle Tom till they entered the dining-room. Then before she had become accus tomed to the lights or could think what she would say May's voice said In a sort of trembling quaver: "Ruth, this is my uncle, Mr. Gordon, Uncle Tom, you know." Ruth looked. A young man not over 25 stood before her with right hand extended- He had the brightest of laughing blue eyes, and his hair of brown was so curly that May was always threatening to buy him side combs to keep it in place. He was, to say the least, somewhat astonished at the demeanor of May's friend, for she suddenly collapsed Into a chair, and laughed, and laughed, until tears ran down her face and May was fear ful of nn attack of hysterics. Tom turned to May, "Is anything the mat ter with me? Is my necktie straight?" he asked anxiously. "What is the matter, Ruth?" and Mrs. Gleason brought the camphor, while Mr. Gleason stood wondering what ailed the girl, but then there was no accounting for girls, they are always surprising. Ruth suddenly recovered herself at sight of the camphor, rose to her feet and said, "I do hope you will forgive me—all of you—But I—it was so funny —I had no time to recall my senses— Oh, May you did it a purpose. You see I expected to see an old man of oi> at least, who would be interested In missionary work —ha. ha, isn't it too funny? I can't get over it." "I might wear a white wig if you'd like to have me took older," said Tom shortly." "Now. Tom, I mean Uncle Tom" began May. "Come now. drop that." "Well, she said it was irreverent to call you just Tom, and it would hurt your feelings, an<J I promised to re form, and I'm going to." but she was laughing as she said it. "I don't believe I can ever forgive you. May," said Ruth. "Oh. yes. you will. It's April fool, you know, and didn't I fool you mcst completely?" A jollier party never sat at the Gleason table than the one that night, for every now and then May would say. "Tom. I mean Uncle Tom," or Ruth would suddenly have a laughing lit in her handkerchief. . "I don't unite understand it yet." "Oh. Tom. I mean Uncle Tom is manna's half brother, and there is 'ZZ> years difference in their ages." Tom Gordon deferred his trip west, and when he went lie took Ruth. "Dear Aunt Ruth." whispered May as she kissed the b.-ide. "Don't you ever dare," was the reply, whereupon May declared it sounded so dis courteous, and she didn t ant to hurt her feelings, "but if you insist you'll forgive me if I sometimes for get to put on the title." "I'll forgive you on condition that you always forget it."—Chicago Times Herald. MR. MUSKRAT AT DINNER. lie Eats His Succulent Jtuuli Kzactly a» w Boy EnU Ills Kanana. If you know where there is a colony of muskrats—and if you don't know you can easily find out; any farmer or hunter will > how < <>ll t'air village of grass houses by the river—you can have 110 end of enjoyment by being there at twilight and calling them out. Squeak like a mouse, only louder. and if there is a pointer nose in sight making a great letter V in the water, it turns instantly toward you. And if the place is all still you have only to hide and squeak a few times, when two or three muskrats will come out to see what the matter Is, or what young muskrat has got into trouble. If you go often and watch you may see a good many curious things: See "musquash" (that's his Indian name) digging a canal or building his house, or cutting wood, or rolling a duck's egg along on the water's edge so as not to break It, to his little ones in the den far below. And if you like bauanas you may sometimes smack your lips at seeing liim eat his ban ana in his own way. This is how he does it: First, he goes to the rushes, and, diving down, bites off the biggest one close to the bottom, so as to have the soft, white part that grows under water. Then he tows it to his favorite eating place. This is sometimes the top of a bog, sometimes a flat rock 011 the shore, sometimes a stranded log; but, wherever it is he likes to eat in that one place, and always goes there when he is not too far away or too hungry to wait. Crawling out to his table, he cuts off a piece of the stump of his rush, and sits up straight, holding it In his forcpaws. Then he peel's it carefully, pulling off strip after strip of the outer husk with his teeth, till only the soft, white luclous pith remains. Tills he devours greedily, holding it in his paws and biting the end off and biting It off again, until there isn't any end left—exactly as a schoolboy often eats a banana. Then he cuts oft a second piece. If the rush is a big one, or swims and gets another, which he treats in the same way. And If you are a boy watching him your mouth begins to "water," and you go and cut a rush for yourself, and eat it as a muskrat did. It you are hungry It !c not very bad,—St. Nicholas. TH£ Et£)l©Tg> Off ASH'ON- New York City (Special).—A pretty outdoor bodice, and at the same time one simple of construction, is always welcome. In this model, reproduced BODICE FOB A WALKING FROCK. from the Philadelphia Record, tucks dispose of slight fulness at the waist both back and front, the opening in the latter being fastened by cords from tiny gilt or silver buttons. The vest we should suggest making in either white satin or cloth embroidered all over with an indescribable design in gold and silver thread, a narrow ap plique of the same edging the revers, cuffs, and that smart Medici collar, which Is so invaluable in imparting an outdoor air to a bodice. Black panne or satin, slightly folded, fashions the corselet, which is ob viously made over a well-shaped and boned foundation. Two Klabornte lSloimes. Of the two blouses shown in the large engraving the tirst is of chiffon iu the new tea-rose yellow coloring, over this charming foundation coming black net embroidered in jet paillettes, and in its turn overlaid with a design of single flowers and leaves in ivory lace applique; while then at the waist there is a deep swathed band of rose pink silk, a twist of which—in a slight ly paler shade—is drawn up between the glittering meshes of the net in frout, and finishes in flower-like rosettes beneath a yoke of shirred yel low chiffon, which gives place to a collar-band of folded chiffon decorated with jetted flowers arranged in medal lion form. The second blouse is of plisse chiffon in the delicate coloring of old ivory (the very latest fashionable shade this>, where the soft effect of the closely clustering pleats is considerably in creased by the use of pressing instead of stitching to keep thein in place. Medallion insertions of mellow-tinted old muslin embroidered in a floral de sign are edged with black Chautilly lace; while at the sides, as you may see, some other lace of ivory-tint is in troduced. Bands and rosettes of black velvet baby ribbon hold the lace to gether in front over the fulness of the pleated chiffon, and there Is a waist band to match, while the revival of the quaint old fashion in sleeves is shown in quite its prettiest form by the effective arrangement of the com bined laces which give place just below the elbow to a big puff of the ivory chiffon, which, after being caught in closely at the wrist, is finished with a edged narrowly with black lace. Tlie Neneit Leather Belt. V P Soft fawn-colored or pearl-colored suede leather or ooze leather forms a stylish belt for the fastidious girl in a world which is much given to wear ing pulley belts of satin or corded silk. The newer leather belt should match ns nearly as possible the tone of the homespun suit. Beautiful light browns or grays predominate. Select a chate laine bag to match, for this is the pocketless age. (Jet a bag with an out side half pocket, in which you can tuck your little kerchief, so as to get it easily without opening the chatelaine bag in which your money is laid away. You can get a red or black and some times a dark blue leather belt, also a cream one. They are much less wide than formerly. The latest tapers off very mucli in front, where it shows de cidedly more narrow than at the back. They run in sizes from eighteen to twenty-four inches. The narrow leath er belt is certainly quite smart. An Eait Indian 'Kerclilef. A great many girls like to cover the top of the head when bathing with a silk handkerchief of some becoming color, instead of wearing one of the mackintosh caps. The handkerchief can be chosen of a becoming tint or to match the bathing suit. If your suit is of black serge, satin or brillian tine, or of navy blue material, you can use one of the bandanas of glorious East Indian coloring, tropical greens and orange, blue, violet and dusky reds. Cut the bandana in half diagon ally and then it is just the right size. New Summer Stockings. There is no silk nor design of floriated pattern on the new summer stockings yclept foulard stockings. It is simply the clever idea of a merchant who sells silks and also hosiery. Fine lisle thread stockings of colors to match the foulards most in demand, blues of various shades, browns, gray, a few "crushed raspberry," amethysts, sage green or tans are heaped up by the silk counter. Some, but not all, have open work meshes as decoration. They are obviously meant to be woru with low-cut shoes. Popular Lace Rnwi. A new trimming exploited this sea son occurs iu the lnce bows, made very small and very neatly. They do not appear singly, but In a series, connect ed with narrow satin ribbons, upon which they appear to be mounted. They can be used in various ways, and on a great many materials. Their manifest destiny, however, is on organdie and lawn frocks or dainty summer gowns of some sheer woolen material. A (lat Trunk. A hat trunk or hat box, as our En? lish cousins say, will accommodate as many as half a dozen pieces of milli nery. Each hat has a stout cushion, which enters the crown and serves as a mount. The hat pins run through the cushion and fasten your big hat to the mount. Now it is firm and cannot wabble about and so get out of shape. Mohair Ontinj; Suit. Mohair, the most serviceable material made for summer wear, is used for the above costume, reproduced from the Chicago Record. The tone is sand col or, trimmed with tailored bands of golden-brown silk. With it a violet silk skirt, finished with a high white satin stock, is worn. TURNING THE JOKE ON HERRMANN. Bill Ny# ffti More Than a Match for the Magician. When Bill Nye, In collaborallou with James Whitconib Riley, was touring the country as a lecturer he stopped at a well known Chicago hostelry one evening and was escort ed to a place in the big dining room directly across the table from a dark man with heavy, black mustachios and a Mephistophellan goatee. Nye recognized liis vls-a-vjs as Herrmann, the magician, but beyond a quizzical stare gave no sign that he knew the eminent prestidigitator. H.-rmaun was very well aware that the bald man opposite him was Bill Nye, but did not indicate his recognition by word or manner. Herrmann had, in fact, prepared a little surprise for the humorist, and several others seat ed at the table were in the secret. Nye was about to lance a leaf from his salad, when he espied, lying be neath it, a superb and seintillant dia mond, set in a wry fine gold ring. Without showing the least surprise, he lifted the ring from the salad bowl, slipped it on his finger, conscious all the while that every eye was upon him, and turning to Riley, who sat next to him, remarked, with his dry, inimitable drawl: "Strange how careless I am getting in my old age, James. I am forever leaving my Jewelry in unlikely places." Herrmann was dumfounded at tha sudden manner in which the trick had miscarried, but he was destined for a still greater shock, for when the colored waiter who presided over the table brought on the next course Nye turned to him and, soberly handing him the gem set ring, said: "You are a very good waiter, Joe." "Yes, sail. I guess I is, pah." "And you always will be a real good waiter, Joe?" "Yes, sail. I'm boun ter da ma best, sab." "I believe you, .Joe, I believe you, and as an evidence of my faith in you I want you to accept this little trifle. Wear it, and always remember the man who most appreciated your services." The waiter's eyes bulged. Herr mann's fork rattled to the lloor, and he tugged at his great mustachios, but was far too clever to cut in w'.th an explanation at such an inopportune moment. There were half suppressed titters all around the hoard during the rest of the meal, which the pro fessor of occult art did not appear to c.ijoy. At a late hour that night llerr maiir was heard In loud argument with the recipient of the diamond ring, trying to two languages to con vince him that it was all a joke on the part of Mr. Nye. finally, after disbursing a tip of more than cus tomary liberality. Herrmann got bficK ills ring. He afterwards vowed that tiie stone alone was woith S2OOO, and t'.iat Hill Nye's nonchalant presenta tion of it to a grinning m niai had spoiled a whole evening's perform ance in legerdemain.—Succes-s. MULES, RATS AND MEN. Miners Show WI««lom In Paying Ihed It. i ertaln Phenomena. "Well, that isn't superstition: it's reality," and Coal Mine Inspector Penman didn't seem a bit p'.eased with the suggestion that superstition might be responsible for the actions of miners. "Coal miners," he went onto say, "are not superstitions. Hear noises? Of course they do. but do people sup pose that noises are imaginary? It beats all how little Is known generally about coal mining. "Folks get it into their heads," the inspector continued, "that a man win will quit work in a certain part of a mine because he sees the rats de serting that section is supe. stitious when, as a matter of fact, lie simply displays sound judgment. Y( ry soon after the rats quit sounds will be heard, and later on a slide follows. What would have happened to the man had lie credited his fears to su perstition by disregarding the exodus of the rats and the subsequent noises? "Rats are the first of a mine's in habitants to realize danger, and then conies the mule. Man is the last. So it is only natural that he should take as positive indications of trouble the actions of the others, and he should not be regarded as a superstitious creature 011 that account. "After rats desert an entry It is next to impossible to get a mule Into It, not because the rats left, but because the mule realizes the danger. Left to themselves rats or mules would never be caught in slides in mines, but it is different with men, who will not fol low the lead of the other two."—Den ver l'ost. War Level* All Mankind. There Is scarcely an old family in England without a relative or connec tion among the members of the battal ion of yeomanry captured by the 1H >crs near I.indley. One section of (lie f..»rce, the Duke of Cambridge's troop, was known as "the millionaires." One of their tents had an aggregate imo:ue of $400,000 a year. They sup; li d their own horses and kit. Yet julgicg from the reports, they did diudging and underwent hardships with as gooa grace as any uncultured "Tommy." While oil the way to the Cape on r transport an officer, seeing one of the "millionaires" swabbing the deck a gale, said: "You seem to have good sea legs. / inan." The reply was: "I have kept a yacht for the last ten years, sir."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers