THE FJLTON COUNTY NEWS. McCONNELLSBUEO. PA. SmRYmnow araPMAN Andrews " u 17 J JT.STI? ATTON.S fiw FUVWnT?TH YHlTKfr- W SYNOPSIS. Francois Henitpre, a peasant babe of thr- yen, Hrter an amusing iiicii.-mi in which Mnrnhnl New Humes, la made a Chevalier of Kronen by the Emperor Na pnl.'nn, wlio timiilieaied that th hoy mklit one ilny be a marshal of France under another Hnnapiirie. At the ukh of ten I'riini'olH viHlla General Baron (!as panl Cimrinnl, who wltli Allxe, his a.-vi-n-yeur-rtld dnui;hter, lives at I he Chateau. A auMier of the Umpire under Napoleon lie fliva the boy's IniiiKlnuiinn with stories or hla campaigns. TIih gen eral offers Krnneols a home at the ( ha trail. The hov refuses to leave Ills pa r.'iils. but In the enil becomes a copyist for the general and learna of Ihe fiiend lihln between the general and Maniuls .itppl, who enmpalgned with the general under Napoleon. Maniuls Znppl and his on, F'letro, arrive at the Chateau. The general Hgreea to rare for the .Varolii on while) the former goes to Amerli-a. The Maniuls before leaving for America asked Krunenls to he a friend of his son. The boy solemnly promises, rramos goes to the Chnteau to live. Marquis ftappl dies leaving J'lelro an a ward or the general. Allxe, l'lelro and Inincots inert a strange bov who provea to he Prlnee I la Napoleon. Francois unvfi hie life. The general discovers Francois loves Allxe. and extracla a promise from him that he will not Interfere between the girl and l'lelro. Francois goes to Ilaiv a secretary to rietro. Queen llortense plans the escape of her Hon Ionla Na poleon bv disguising hlin and Maniiila Zappl aa her lackevs. Francis takes Marqula Zappl's place, who la 111. in the scape of Horientn "d I onia, Prcssi-n a I.ouIb'b brother Francois Inrea the Austrian from Ihe hotel allowing the prince and his nmther to escape. 1- ran rola Is a prisoner of the Austrian Mr five years In the castle owned bv I'letro In Italy. Mo discovers In bis guard one or Pletro's old family servants, and through him sends word to his friends of his plight. The general. Allxe and I'letro rn-ar from Francois and plan his lescu". Francois as a guest of the Austrian gov ernor of the ensile prison InspeeM the Interior of the wine cellar of the 7.nppH. Francois receives a note from I'letro ex plaining In d.tnll how to escape from his prison. Allxo awaits lilm cm horseback and leads him to his friends ort board the American sailing vessel, the T.m-clv I.ncy." Francois, as a guest of Harry Hampton, on the "I.nvelv l.uey." goes to America to manage I'letro' netutu In Vlri;lnla Francola wins the respect anil nilinlrutlon of tho aristocratic southern era. CHAPTER XXI. Hero Worship. It had como about Hint Lucy Hamp ton was a scholar of FraneolB. The colonel, lamenting on a day that there were no capable teachers of French In the neighborhood, that Lucy's school girl command of the language was fast disappearing, nd an accomplish ment so vital to a lady was likely soon to bo lost this saga of regret being ung by the colonel at the dinner-table, Francois had offered to teach madem oiselle his mother tongue. And tho colonel had accepted the offer. "If you are not too busy. Chevalier. And I suppose your ah accent Is entirely good? One can not be too careful, you know. At least we shall rot quarrel about the terms, for what ever money you think right to ask 1 shall be ready to pay," and tho colonel felt himself a man of the world and extremely generous. "Father!" Lucy cried quickly. Francois' eyes were on his plate but they swept up with their wide brown gaze full on the colonel's face. "1 am pot too busy, Monsieur the Colonel As for my accent 1 am a peasant, as Monsieur knows, but yet I am In structed. I was for years at Salnt Cyr, the great military school of France. I believe my accent Is right. Aa for money" a quick motion, all Frtach, spoke a whole sentence. "If Monsieur Insists on that that must finish It. To me It would bo Impos sible to tako money for the pleasure of teaching mademoiselle." lie flashed at Lucy a smilo all gentleness, and Lucy's eyes, waiting for that mile, met his shyly. Ihe colonel blustered a bit, but the lesttons were arranged as Francois visited, twice a week throughout the winter he rode over from Carnlfax- to give them. And little by littlo ho came to know the small mistress of the ma nor ns few had known her. I'eople thought Lucy Hampton too serious and Lucy Stood In the Doorway. ctald for a young girl; no one realized that, her mother being dead and ber father such as he was, the clear-headed Utile person had begun at ten or twelve years old to know that she must make ber own decisions, and many of her father's also. At four teen she had taken the keys and the responsibilities of the houso, and now, at sixteen, she was In reality the head of the whole great plantation. The colonel, who would have been most In dignant to be told so, leaned on her In every detail, and It wag she who planned and decided and oftnu execut ed the government of the little king dom. All this lay on the slender shoulders of Lucy Hampton, and besides all this ho bad begun In very childhood to bold up the hands and do the thinking of an Incompetent father. It was uot wonderful that she was graver and lower to frolic than other girls of sixteen. Her conscientious young brain was full of care, and light-heart dness of youth had never had a chance to grow In that crowded place. I't - bad come to live with them H only the ear before, when hi mother had died, his futher being dead long ago; and Lucy knew quite well that her father hud planned that the two should marry and unite the broad acres of the Hamptons. Hut Ihe young longing for ro'mnnce which was In her in spite of tho chok ing sober business of her life, re belled at this. She would not give herself as well as all her thought and effort for Koanoke. She wanted to love somebody, and be loved for her self as othor girls were; sha would not marry Harry because ho and her futher considered It a good arrange ment. So strongly had this determi nation seized her that, looking entire ly down that way of thought, she failed to see that Harry might not be clussed with tho colonel In his view of the plan. She failed to see that If she had Dot been heiress to Koanoke House, or to anything at all. Harry Hampton would still have been In love with his cousin Lucy. For Harry saw how tho young life had been pressed Into a service too hard for It almost from baby hood; Harry saw how un selfish she was and trustworthy; how broad-minded and warmhearted; how she would like to bo care free and Ir responsible like other girls of her age, only that the colonel and the estate were always there, always demanding her time and her attention. Ho could do little to help her as yet, but he longed to lift the weight and carry it with her, not away from her, for the fairy of a person was not the sort to lenn on others or to be happy without her share of tho burden. Vet, Harry thought, "If I might only help her, and make It all a delight Instead of a labor!" Hut Lucy, going about her busy days, never guetwnd this. She thought of Harry as the boy whom she had grown up with, to be cared for ten derly always because of his misfor tune, to be helped and planned for and loved Indeed, beeauso he was lame and her cousin, and because he was a dear boy and her best friend. Hut as the hero of her own ronianco to come, she refused to think of him at all. More firmly she refused such an Idea, of course, because her father had hinted that It woSild complete both Harry's and his happiness. Francois, with quick Insight, saw as much us this, and was nnxlous for the boy who bad been his warm and steady friend. What he did not see was that Luck was fitting bis own personality Into that empty notch of her imagination where an nltar stood and a candle burned, ready for the image that was to come above them. That never entered his mind, for In his mind Alixo was the only woman living to be considered in such a re lation. And. in Shite of the seigneur. In spite of I'letro. It plte of his whole hearted giving up of her, there was a happy obstinate corner In the depths of his soul which yet whispered ngninst all reason that It might be that Alixe loved him, that It might be, for unheard-of Stings happened every day. It might be yet that w.th alL honor, with all happiness to those others whom ho loved he might some day bo free to love her. So that as h grew to care for and understand Lucy Hampton more and more, no faintest dream of caring for her as he' did for Ailxe came ever Into his mind. On an evening when winter was wearing away to cold spring, Francois waited in the dining-room of Koanoke Houso for his scholar. The room had a sweot and stately beauty, a graceful stiffness like the manners of the women who first lived In It, a hundred years before. The carved white wood work over tho doors was yellowed to Ivory; the mantelpiece, brought from France in 1732, framed in its fluted pillars, Its garlands and chiseled nymphs and shepherds, as If under protest, the rollicking orange of the lire. Over a mahogany sofa, covered with slippery horsehair, hung a por trait of the first lady of the mnor and Francois, sitting soldierly erect in a straight chair, smiled as his gaze fell on it It was so like yet so unlike a face which bo knew. There was the delicate oval chin and straight nose, and fair, loose hair. Hut the portrait was staid and Berious, while Lucy's face, as this man had seen It, had kindly eyes and a mouth smiling al ways. He shook his head In gentle amusement at the grave dignity of the picture. ' "Hut no, Madame you are not so charming as your granddaughter," be said, addressing It niud. And then he stepped across the room to tho (ire, and hold his hands to It and stared into It. The clock ticked (irmly, tho logs fell apart with soft sliding sounds, and ho stared down at them his thoughts far away a look came Into his eyes as if they concen trated on. something beyond tho range of eight, the characteristic look of Francois, the old look of a dreamer, of a seer of visions. Then Lucy stood in the doorway, gentle, charming from the slippered feet, locked over the Instep to the shadowy locks of light hair on ber forehead. "Good evening. Monsieur. I am sorry 1 kept you waiting. Hannibal hurt his foot and I must find plaster and bandage for him. Hut you will havo enough of my talking even now. Father says I talk a great deul. Do I, Monsieur?" Francois stood regarding her, with frank admiration In every muscle of his face. Ho smiled, the same gentle amused smile with which ho hud ad dressed the portrait. "You never talk too much for me, lademoisclle. It is a pleasure to me always to hear your voice," be answered in the deep tone of a Frenchman, the tone that has ever a half note of tragedy, as of some race-memory which centuries do not wipe out. "Only." he went on x'nklng in French, "one must not talk Kngllsh. That Is breaking the law, you remember, Mademoiselle." She answered very prettily In his own tongue. In words that halted a little. "Very well, Monsieur. I will do my best." He still gazed at her smiling, without speaking. One could understand that, to a girl of more self-contained people, this open hom age of manner, this affectionate gen tleness, might Beem to mean more than a brotherly loyalty. The girl's pult o was beating fust as' she niado an effort for conversation. "What wore you thinking of as you looked at tho ore when I came In, lonsleur? It had an air of being something pleas ant. Did 1 not say all that beauti fully?" she finished In English. He corrected a lame verb with seri ous accuracy and she repeated the word, and laughed happily. "Hut you haven't said yet what you were thlnkli.g about." Tho large brown eyes turned on hers. "It wns of my old home In r ranee, jMaueim.'sclle, when I was Stretched Out His Arm as If to Hold a Sword. very little," ho suld simply. "A large Ore of logs makes me think of that." "Tell me about It," she begged with quick Interest. "Will you? Was there always a lire at your house?" "Jlut no, Mademoiselle not, of course, In the summer It was of the winter time I thought, wbun the neigh bors came, In tho evening, and we sat about the hearth, sometimes twenty people, each at his different duty, and my brothers and sisters were there, und the dear grandmere, was there and " he stoped. "Does Mademoi selle really wiHh to hear how it was in that old farm-house of ours, in the shadow of the Jura Mountains?" "Indeed, Mademoiselle wishes It," she assured him. "It will bo a trip to Kurope. I am sure I shall speak better French for going to France for ten minutes, and being among the French people, your friends. Wait now, till 1 am comfortable." She turned a deep chair so that It faced him, nnd dropped Into It. "I'ut a foot stool for me," she ordered, as south ern women order the men they care for and tho men they do not. And she settled back with her littlo feet on It nnd smiled at him. For a mo ment the man's brilliant gaze rested on her and the girl saw It, and thrilled to it. "Now, Monsieur, rucontez-mol une hlstoire," she spoke softly. Francois Heaupre's look turned from ber to the fire, and the air of gnzlng at something far away came again. "It is a picture I see as I think of that time of my childhood," he began, as If speaking to himself. "A picture many times painted In homelike col ors on my bruin. Many a night In tho winter I have sat, a little boy, by the side of my grandmother, at that great hearth, and have looked and have seen all the faces, have heard all the voices and the lire crackling, and the spinning-wheel whirring, even as I see them and hear them tonight. "And from time to time one of the men, as he tafked, rose up and strode across the room to the great oak table where lay always on a wooden plate a long loaf of black bread, with a knife, and always a glass nnd a bottle of eau-de-vie brandy. And I remem ber how manly it looked to me, watch ing, when I saw him take the Iqaf under his arm and hold it, and bIIco off boldly a great piece of the fresh rye bread, and pour out a glass of brandy and toss it off as he ate tho bread. The stories seemed to grow better after the toller had done that. "And always I waited, even through the tale of the ghost and the fire breathing hound, till the talk should swing round, ns It did ever toward the end, to the stories of Napoleon that were fresh In men's minds In those days. It was as if I sat on needles before my bedtime came, yet I did not dare to be restless and move about for fear that my mother might send me suddenly to bed. Hut I always gave a sigh of content and always the grand-mere patted my head softly to hear It, when my father cleared his throat and began " ""lHiere Ib a small thing that hap pened when the Emperor was march ing' and then he was launched on his tale." A great hickory log fell, rolled out toward the hearth. Tho carved nymphs and shepherds Bcemed to frown In disapproval at this Irregularity, and the girl In tho deep chair smiled, but the man sprang up and put the log back In place with quick efficiency. He stood silent by the tall mantel piece, deep yet In his reverie, as the flames caught the wood again and sparkled and spluttered. "Did any of them ever soo Napo leon those men who talked about him?" the girl asked. The Frenchman turned a queer look on her, and did not answer. "Did any of your family over see him. Monsieur?" she asked again. The alert figure stepped backward, sat down ugaln on the gilded chair and leaned forward consideringly. Francois nodded as If to the lire. "Hut yes, Mademoiselle," ho Bald, In a whis per. "Oh, tell mo!" the girl cried, all in terest. "Who was It? How was It? It couldn't bo" she hesitated "your self! If you, whom I know so well, ehould have seen the Kmperor!" She caught a deep breath of excltemont. This was another Lucy Hampton from the serious young mistress of Konnoke House whom the country pooplo knew. "Quickly, Monsieur, tell me If it was yourself!" Francois turned his eyes on her. "Yes, Mndamolselle," ho answered. "You have seen Napoleon!" she said, and then. Impetuously, "Tell me nbout It!" Hut, though he smiled at her with that affectlonato amusement which she seemed, of all sentiments, oftenest to Inspire In him, he did not answer. "Monsieur! you will not refuse to tell me when I want to know so much!" sho pleaded, and went on. "How old were you? Did he speak to you? What did he say to you?" And tho Frenchman laughed as If at a dear child who was absurd. "Mademoiselle asks many questions which shall I answer?" ho demanded. and tho tone to her ear was tho tone of love, and she trembled to hear It. "Answer" she began, and stam mered and flushed, and stopped. Francois went on, little thinking what damago he was doing with that unconscious charm of volco and look. "It Is as Mademoisello wishes, most certainly. I will even answer Ma demoiselle's two questions at once to plciwe her. . It was when I was not rjuito threo years old, Mademoiselle, at home in tho farm-house In the val ley of the Jura." "And he spoke to you, to your own self? Are you sure?" "Hut yes, he spoko to me. Mademoi selle." "What did he say?" The smile on Francois' face went out and Into Its place swept an Intensity of feeling; ho answered solemnly: "There were but few words, Mademoisello, but they have been much to my Hfo. They shall lead my life, !f God pleases. those words shall lead It to the fato which they foretold." "What were the words?" whispered tho girl, Impressed with awe. Francois suddenly stood erect and stretched out his arm as If to hold a sword. " 'Rise Chevalier Francois Henupre, ono day a Marshal of France under another 'Napoleon,'" he repeat ed dramatically. "Those were the words the lCmperor said." CHAPTER XXII The Story Again, girl, her face lifted to Mm, bewildered. "I don't under- The looked btand." Tho visionary eyes stared at her un certainly. "I have never told this thing," he said In a low tone. "Ah but It's only me," begged the girl. "Only you, Mademoiselle!" His voice went on as if reflecting aloud. "It Ib the guiding Btar of my life that story; yet I may tell it" he paused "to 'only you.' " Again the girl quivered, feeling the Intensity, mistaking its meaning. "I should be glad It you would tell it," she spoke almost In a whisper, but FrancolH, floating backward on a strong tide to those old beloved days, did not notice. "It may seem a simple affair to you, Mademoiselle I ran not tell that. It has affected my life. The way of It was this: Nnpolcon marched to Ger many In the year 1813, and passed with his staff through our village. The house of my father wob the largest in the village, and It was chosen to be, for an hour, the Emperor's head quarters, and the Emperor held a council of war, he and his generals, there I, a child of three, was sleep lig In a room which opened from the great room, and I wakened with the sound of voices, and ran in, un noticed, for they were all bent over the table, looking at the maps and lists of the mayor and I pulled at the sword of Marshal Ney. And the mar shal, turning quickly, knocked me over. I cried out, and my grand mother ran to me, and I have often heard her tell how she peeped from tho door under the shoulder of tho big sentry who would not let her pass, and how she saw a young general pick me up and set roe on my feet, and how all the great officers lnughed when he said that the sword was in contest between Marshal Ney and me. And how, then, the young general sug gested that, to settlo the point amic ably, the marshal should draw his sword and give me the accolade the blow of knighting. And so, Mademoi selle, to shorten the tale, it was not tho marshal, but the Emperor himself who choBe to do It. Ho made me kneel before him, I a baby and he struck my shoulder the blow of the accolade, and said the words which I have told you." Francois sprang to his feet and stood as ho rrifatod once more the Emperor's words. Ills voice shook. "'Rise Chevalier Francois Deaupre. one day a Marshal of Franco under another Bonnpnrte,' " he crlod, thrilled through with the words which he re pented. The girl leaning forward, watched him; with a gasp she spoke. "Then that is why you are really Chevalier Heaupre? Did the Emperor have the right to to knight you?" "Hut yes, Mademoiselle," Francois answerud with decision. "I have stud- ted the question, and I believe that the accolade the knighting was always a right of the monarchs of Franco, disused, perhaps at times, but yet held In abeyance, a right." The glance of the brilliant eyes met hers with a frank calmness which showed that be claimed nothing which he did not feel; that this haphazard nobility had lived In his soul and grown with his growth, and come to be part of him. With a gentle humil ity, very winning as it sprang from bis gentle prldo, he went on. "I know, Mademoiselle, that I am a peasant nnd that I must be content with a small place In life at the pres ent. I know this. And even that position which I have Is more than my brothers, For you must know, Mademoiselle, that the others grew up to be farmers or tradesmen." He hes itated, and then In a few words told her of General Gourgaud, the seigneur of Vlcqires. nnd how he had given the peasnnt boy all tho opportunities which his own son could have had. And as he talked ho remembered how, after his father's ruin, he had stood Inside the bare, Utile, new cottage and watched through the window his mother standing nt the gate and talk ing to the seigneur, who held Llsotto's bridle. It seemed to him he could see the dnrk braided hair of I .a Claire, coiled around her iicnd, and the deep point of her whlto neck-handkerchief as sho stood with her back to him, and the big bow of the apron tied about her waist. The picture came vividly. And It opened his heart so that he talked on, nnd told this strang er in a strange land many things that hud lain close and silent In his heart. Ho told her about tho general's gruff nesB, which could not hide his good ness; and how he had come to be the child of tin custle as well as of the pottage; something of I'letro also he told her; but ho did not mention Alixo. "You spoko of three children, Mon sieur; who was the third?" asked Lucy. Francois went on ns If ho had not hen.-d the question. "It wns a happy life., Mademoiselle," ho said. "And It has been so ever since even, for the most part, in prison. 1 havo wondered at times If the world Is all filled with such kind people as 1 have met, or if It is Just my good luck." Lucy Hampton had been reading aloud to her sick black mammy that day, nnd some of the words of the book hbn had rend came to her, and seeini d to (It "Tho kingdom of God nnd was tried for it and all that fa ther talked about it so much I could not help knowing a littlo about it, but I don't remember distinctly." "Hut certainly. Mademoiselle. It was the prince." "Then, haven't they Just done some thing to him? Isn't there something people are Interested in Just now about lliut Prince Iouis?" The grave bright smile flashed out at her. "In truth, Mademoisello, there Is. Tho, prince was shipped by his Jailers on tho frlgnto Andromede more than four months ago, for what port Is unknown. Ono has not heard of him lately, and there arn fenrs that ho may have suffered shipwreck. Hut I do not fear. It Is the hope of France, It Is France's destiny which the An dromede carries. It will carry that great cargo safely. Tho young prince will yet come to his own, and I and perhaps you. Mademoiselle who knows? will cry for him 'Vive I'Em pereur'!" ( The tone full of feeling thrilled through the girl. She flushed and stammered ns she went on, but Fran cois, carried away by his enthusiasm, did not think of It. "If you will let mo ask Just one question more, Mon sieur, I will promise not to ask any after." The flicker of amusement lighted bis face. "Ask mo a thousand, Mad emoiselle." "No, only one. Did that seigneur that General Gourgaud did he have any any daughter?" Tho Frenchman roso In a business like way, the way f a teacher of lan guage nt the end of a lesson. "One," he nnBvered briefly in a matter-of-fact tone. And then, "Made WAY FOR THE YOUNG MEN! Condition That Must Be Recognized Is Pointed Out by Writer In Magazine. Clear the way for the young men. They nre entering "tho strong, flour f iling, and beautiful age of man's life." They decree the changes. The map of the world may be rolled up every acre tramped upon and Inhab ited. Hut still they come, claiming all the rights of the adventurer and pio neer. Domains must be found for them If the old earth has gono stale. If tho lire of danger and discovery Is ended, then thoy will turn their hand against our secure world and refash ion the pleasant places. They will uproot tradition and shatter the insti tutions. We should like them better If they fitted Into our scheme, if they were ruddy and cheery and ended there. Hut they come earnest and critical. They Jeer at our failures, teject our compromises. It isn't our idea of youth ,our peaceful picture of waht youth should bo. Poets sing It as if It were a pretty thing, the gentle possession of a golden race of beings. Hut It Is lusty with power and disas trous to comfort. Men sigh for It as If it had vanished with old Japan at the hour when it is romping In their courtyard and challenging their dear beliefs. They are wistful for It in their transfigured memory, and they curse it In their councils, for youth never Is what the elders would have it It does unacceptable things, while age stnnds blinking and sorrowful. It Is unruly, turbulent power on its end loss track. Collier's Weekly. Thing Never Paid For. Anyone who docs his work well or gets satisfaction out of It, puts him self Into It. Moreover he does things that he cannot be given credit for, finishes parts that no one else will notice. Even a mediocre amateur mu sician knows that the best parts of moiselle has talked enchantlngly well this evening, but 1 have perhaps talk ed too much. I may have tired Mad-emo-sctlo. 1 have the honor to wish you a good evening." His heels together, he stood In the doorway and made his bow. "Au plalslr de vous rovolr," be said, and was gone. ... CHAPTER XXIII. "' . I The Prlnca Comes. The glittering morning sunlight of late March flooded the eastern dining room of Roanoke house. A lire blaz ed on the hearth; hot dishes steamed on the table; the girl s face, the crack ling flro. the polished silver reflected from polished mahogany; the soft shod, solicitous servlco of a wblte aproned negro; nil this made the room fragrant with homeliness In spite of tho fact that one could boo ono's breath In the air. Hut they were used to It the hardy Virginians of those days of open fires and no fur naces, of many luxuries nnd few com forts, and In happy Ignorance of world progress, they suffered cheerfully and were strong. Colonel Henry Hampton faced a por trait of the first Hampton of Roanoke, stately with brass buttons nnd silver lace, set In tho panels seventy-flvo years before. Lucy had concluded her broiled chicken and hncon and hot bread, and now ns he, late for break fast always, followed In her wake, he read tho Norfolk and Portsmouth Herald with which a colored boy Had that morning ridden out from Norfolk, eight miles away. It was before the time of dally papers, except In a largo city or two, and this of onco a week was an event; a boy was Bent to Nor folk tho day before Its publication that the colonel might have It at the earliest moment. "How would you like to see a live prince, Lucy?" he Inquired. "The Her eld states that we have ono with us, not ten miles from Roanoke. Prince IxjuIs Napoleon was landed from the Aiidroinede, In Norfolk, only yester day. Poor young man," he went on condescendingly, "he hus no money, I understand, and" here he Is stranded In a strango country with his fortune to make, and no assets but a title. It's little that will help him in the states!" Colonel Hampton glanced over to seo if she wcro listening to bis words of wisdom; ho lilced an attentive au dience, llo was enchanted with her expression. She had dropped knife and fork und. wiili her blue eyes stretched wide, her white teeth shin ing, was drinking In his sentences. "Father! Is Iiince Uiuis in Nor folk? How cati It be? Monsieur Heaupre was talking to me about him last night, and ho did not dream of his coming here. Surely ho would huve known if tho prince were expected." Colonel Hampton smiled sarcastical ly. "You will find thai your futher occasionally knows more than even Monsieur Heaupre, and even on French questions, 1 tuny add," he an nounced, from a mountain height. "Hut In ono point you are right, my dear. The prince was not expected by any one, not even by the great Chevalier !i(iiupre. lie was exiled from France, us you may or may not know, some four and a half months ago, on account of his attempt on Strus burg, and was sent out on Hie Andro mede, with sealed orders. No cue knew his destination until he landed, on the twenty-eighth. In Norfolk. Thero" tho colonel got up and walk ed to the fireplace und stood with his back to tho bla.e, und his legs far apart, masterfully. "There, my dear, I have given you a doso of history for a female mind. How are you going to nnitiso your littlo self today?" (TO COXTINl'KD.) Dreadful. "Mercy, child!" exclaimed Mrs. Hniiem. "I never would havo be lieved my little hoy could use such lunguugo. Ileen playing with had children again, haven't you?" "No'm," replied her little hoy. "Teddy I la eon and I have been playing with n par rot his uncle sent hlin from Chicago." Ms ploying, his personal tributes to tho genius of tho composer whom ho plays, are heard by no one but him self and "tho God of things as they aro." There might ho bitterness In the thought that In our work we get paid or praised only for what Is not particularly ours, while the work tnat we put our hearts Into Is not recog nlzed or rewarded. Hut In the strng gle for spiritual existence wo adapt ourselves to the unnppreclntlve fea tures of our environment nnd lonrn to look elsewhero for recognition "We do not expect people to pay us for our best. We look to the approval of conscience, to the light of our Ideal seen more clearly when our work Is good, or to the Judgment of God. Our terms differ more than our tendon cles. Tho essential point Is that for appreciation of our beBt work wo look to a judge more Just and keen-sight-ed than our paymaster. Richard C Cabot, In the Atlantic. HI Failed to Come Up HI Larity trented his peg Pg to a handsome coat of white paint one day this week, after which he painted Inches nnd half Inches on it nnd has since been using It as a measuring stick when digging postholes and do ing other work. Our road overseer came along a few days later nnd placed a hlte polo In the creek with Inches and half inches painted on It so team sters can tell when tho creek Is too high to ford. Link Lollop passed that way shortly after and found Simp Summers staring at the ry! moat n. tently. Link asked hii what he was watching. "I've been settln' here early, an hour," Simp replied, "waltln' to Bee what Hi's dlvln' after, but hit seems like hit takes him a long time to come up." Kansas City Star. Queer Things. Queer how things even themselves up. Even when a woman's love grows cold her ,temper Is apt to remain as hot as ever. Philadelphia Record. Ofioffl HLW HOWLAND AINT.TOU GLAD TOUEE LTVIN'? Ain't It splendid ti ba livln', 'iotn 'bout this tluia ' year, wiin tn gnn thing P"npit,' upward anl th mornlnci orljp ana clear; With the chlMr-n'i clicks n-t,'liuin' and th f'ltun lookln' bright, And tho glad.l.nM roosters cruwln' Just for fun with all their ml:;ht Ain't It chofrful, uln't tt np'.i-nM to rct out anl whiff the ulr Whn the wlnw time Is e.i.l". and theri'i besuty eviy. where. When tho bii'ls nri busy nwi-llili' anl thu culls kick up their heeln An. I tho lainliH quit fr'skln' hnnlly lunj enough to get their meals? Ain't It Hne to henr tho ruckle of tH hen wh'ine heart Is Hubt An. I b have tho will to lu.iile u:iy Jib there la In light? Ain't It tine to thlni? gruwlii' Ji it the way they used to itrnw. Anl to f'ii the warm wind blowln' Jut the way It usd to blow? Ain't It good to itart the furrow nnd to mill the new-plowed c.irth, Anl to hear the blackbirds rlKiitr. buntln' worms for all they're wnh' Alt.'t It K'od to bear Ihe rlngln' nf tl.e ritat.-int dinner Ix-IT. And lo bear Ihe robin alniftn' Just to how that all Is well? Ain't It luekr to be livln' when the W sums brlRhten things. And you're wnltln' fur the summer wlih the gl.-idoeas hat It hrlnrs? Ain't It good to seo tho g-lerwnln' dm I' ll. ins In the lane; Diin'l It kind of start you dreamln' tin old biiyhuod dreams nmiin.- CANOID OPINION The man who la always positive that he Is right loses many bets. Frequently the worm that turns merely gets Itse'f bruised on the ( tticf side. A poor beginning may lead to a guml ending, but It Is not likely to do no If one has started ro tumble downstairs. A theatrical producer Is a man h) !iad a drawing-room on the limited train last week nnd Is sucking an orange In a common coai'h today. Somo of the college profilers ari tryinR to find out whether the 1 mlian lias a sense of humor. After they through with the Indians they ou.nlit to exiimlne the people who like popular songs. For Instance. "The fphcre," said the philosopher, "Is the first principle of nature. 'Ifl-' earth is a sphere, tho sun, the nmoa nnd the stais are spheres. The r.iln diop is a sphere; nearly all fruits ii'i'l seeds nre spherical, nnd what Is it tli.it a child learns to play with first? A hall. Our eyes nre spheres, and our heads, by far the must Important part of us, are round. In fuct, there's hard ly unytlilm: of any Importance that ien't round." "h. yes there Is," replied the Icono clast. "What for instance?" "A sirloin steak." NO WONDER THEY DISAGREED "What were the grounds on which your wife secured her divorce?" "I n c omputabil lty of tempera ment." "Why was l' that vou couldn't agree."" "She Insisted that her former Inn band was an abler man than I am be cause ho wore smaller Bhoes and ' larger hat than I do." ' The Center of Interest I never rend the sporting sheot. It all Is nicnnhiRless to me: I do nut euro which club may beat Or whleh the Inll-end team muy b- The market page I put aside, Ktoeks muy be hlKh or very low; Thero may be melons to divide 1 do not know nor caro to know. I hnve no wish lo read about The work of congress day by day; I never hunt the book news out, Nor piiuae to reud about the play. I write the letters which vou read Sinned "t'ntiiot" and "X. Y. 55." I ri-ud them only; they, Indeed, Alone have Interest for me. Changed Her Mind. "My husband and I were engss for live years." "You must bo one of those who be lieve In long engagements." 1 "No. 1 did before we were nia rled." Unsatisfactory. "Pretty severe snowstorm.' "Yes." replied Mr. Growcher. "J"'1 severe enough to make It disagreeable and not severe enough to prevent man from going to work." Certainly. "Hilger Is boasting that he will hrt three bathrooms In his new houe." "Why should he boast about that "Why not?. Every man ought have something to boast about." Liberal. "I suppose you are giving your son' liberal education?" "You bet you." replied the gf1 wheat king. "Whenever he telegraP"' borne for money I send It right oil. generally making the check even blf ger than he expected."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers