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
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hopom
ourea theae troublea of
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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."