O (» Under Colors By W. W. HINES Copyright, IS*U, hv \V. W. lliiies O- <! Ogden could not recollect having lost any uncles lately, and it was a distinct surprise to be greeted as a nephew by the stern featured old man in the puff lng automobile. "Come here, you young rascal," the old man almost shouted as the automo bile drew up to the sidewalk. Without knowing why, Ogden went, l'erhaps it was curiosity, perhaps it was because he did not happen to think of anything else to do. At any rate he stepped up to the automobile .and took a good long look at its occupant. "(jet in here at once," said the old man. "Why?" asked Ogden. "Why?" repeated the old man. "Re cause I tell you to do so. Here I have been looking for you for the past two weeks and now you want to run away w hen I tind you. That is a pretty way for an only nephew to treat his uncle!" "So you are my uncle?" said Ogden quizzically. Then the spirit of adven ture, which had been his guiding star all his life, seized possession of him, and he stepped into the vehicle, which started, putting, down the avenue to ward Washington square. Oti the way down he puzzled with himself as to the part which he waa acting, or rather being forced to act. As nearly as he could gather from the conversation of the old man, he was his nephew Rodney. The last name had not been introduced into the con versation. Kodney seemed to have come from the west for a visit and to have left the house without warning, after a more or less violent quarrel with his uncle. "What did you want to run away for, you young rascal? The girl is cer tainly as pretty a girl as you will hud in the whole country, sir. It was j only to be expected that she should ; show some coquetry about accepting you, but 1 am surprised that any nephew of mine would be such a fool as to ruu away from a pretty girl. Why did you do it. sir'.'" The old gentleman was very irate. Taking his cue from the fragmentary information furnished him by these leiuarks, Ogden. resolved to carry through the comedy, straightened him self up and remarked, with his most ' dignified air: "Because I trust that I am too much of a gentleman to force my attentions iu any quarter where they are not wanted." He had read this sentence in >ome old fashioned book and thought it might go well with this elderly uncle. The old fellow looked rather pleased and said: "I should have understood it, my boy The sentiment does credit to your blood and your breeding, sir. But my heart Is set on this match. Just tell the girl you won't take 'No' for an answer and she will come around in time. Eh, sir, when I was your age 1 would have been delighted with the coquetries she has used on you." By this time the automobile had come to a stop in front of one of the old houses along the north side of the square, and the two passengers alight ed. Entering the house, the old man, with Rodney in tow, made for the drawing room, where they could hear some one playing on the piano. The room was rather dark, but as they entered the light was good enough for Rodney to make out the uncommonly pretty girl seated at the piano. She got up hastily as they entered the room and ran to greet the old man. Then she turned to Ogden and said: "So you have come back. Cousin Rodney? 1 was under the impression that you had left the city." Feeling rather ashamed of himself for carrying on the deception, but over powered by the desire for adventure, Ogden sat down and joined in the con versation, fencing carefully for time whenever he was ask<»d a question the answer to which might betray his iden tity. Whenever he got a chance he stole a glance at the girl. He fancied once or twice that he detected a flicker of amusement upon her face. She was evidently watching him narrowly, and the conviction grew upon him that she suspected he was an impostor. The girl was certainly a beauty, and he could not understand why the real Rodney had been callous enough to run away from her society, even if he had found his presence more or less unwelcome. By and by the old gentleman excused himself upon the plea that he must take Ids regular afternoon nap and left the two young people alone. The mo ment he was safely out of hearing the girl broke into a peal of laughter and said: "Did you think he had fooled me?" She was taking It very nicely, thought Ogden, and he braced himself up enough to say: "No: 1 knew you recognized my im-1 position. But, believe me, I am not an I intentional impostor. Your uncle picked me up mi the street and swore up and | down that I was his nephew. It j would not have been proper to accuse j him of falsehood, so I Just came along." j The girl grew serious and said: "You know uncle Is a bit near- I sighted, and he will not, under any circumstances, consent to wear glasses. j You do look wonderfully like his nephew. But don't you know who you are supposed to be?" "No more idea than the man in the moon," asseverated Ogden solemnly. "Why, you are supposed to l»e Rod- j uey Phillips. Y<>u know him, you "Rodney Phillips! No; 1 don't be- j lleve I do. But stop. Why, 'Chesty' j Phillips that I used to room with at I Yale. His right name was Rodney, > but no one ever called him by that name. So that explains the resem blance. The fellows used to call us the 'Two Dromlos.'" "Yes." said tlie girl, laughing heart ily. "and you are Ogden Harwood. Cousin Rodney lias shown me pictures of you a dozen times and commented on the resemblance." "Rut toll me," Interrupted Ogden— "why did Rodney run away from you?" "Because he is engaged to a very dear friend of mine, and uncle won't hear of his marrying any one but me. Rodney hasn't a cent except his slen der salary and the allowance uncle makes him, so he has to dissemble." "I would like very much to see the girl Rodney Is to," said Ogden. "And why?" ask** the girl. "She must be very beautiful indeed" "How do you know?" "Is it proper to pay compliments up on short acquaintance?" "You may answer my question wheu you have known me longer." ' "Ihanks. since that means you are not going to cut me when next we meet." "But you had better leave before un cle comes down from his nap." "And when can I bo properly Intro duced to you?" "Didn't you know Raymond Pearson at Yale?" ' Yes. but why?" "He is to be married to a friend of ! mine next week, and I am to be the , maid of honor. Can't you get hlm to t invite you?" "I am In town to be his best man." "\\ hat a coincidence! Rut you must go now." "All right. Then I'll Just say au re voir until we are properly introduced." "Yes. an revoir until the rehearsal of the ceremony next Tuesday." And Ogden was down the steps and into tin- street, conscious of the fact that he was looking forward to the wedding of his friend Pearson with much more interest than even a best man is supposed to take In such an event. KEEPING WELL. It Is Uetter unit More koonomlcal i Thnii Grlliaa Well. i I have often been horrified by find- | lng people at Carlsbad or Marienbad j or some other of these severe water ; cures who had come there simply on their own initiative and without any medical advice. This is really tam pering with one's constitution. I am coming to the conclusion in recent years that it Is better to trust | to air and to exercise than to waters ! for the renewal of the physical sys ; tem. Since 1 have taken to golf I tind so much improvement in my healUi I that I no longer pine, as 1 used to do, for the water cure. But there again every man must judge for himself. If a man has too profound a love for the ■ pleasures of the table it is almost a necessity for him togo to one of those places where the system seems to get a thorooghly complete washout. But if a man be of moderate appe tite and be able to keep himself well under control even when temptation ; Is great, then he has no reason for J going to Homburg or Carlsbad or i Marienbad. He had better seek good ! mountain air, play golf and keep out of doocs. —London M. A. P. OUR FINGER NAILS. Method by Whlrh They Are Formed and How They Grow. The nail is a special modification of tho cuticle, the superficial cells being harder, more horny and more firmly adherent to each other than in the proper skin. The deep layerof the skin Is peculiarly modified to form the bed of the nail, is highly vascular, and is Btudded with almost parallel ridges, the true skin overlapping the sides and root of the nail, which fits into the groove, as a watch glass Into its rim. The surfaces of all these ridges are covered with growing cells which, as they flatten and change into horn, form one solid curved plate, the nail. Nails grow both in thickness and length. The Increase in thickness Is caused by the formation bf nerve cells on the bed of the nail; the increase In length, through the formation of new folds at the hinder part of the bed. The nail, thus constantly receiving ad ditions from below and from behind, is slowly pushed forward over its bed till it projects beyond the end of the finger and Is cut off at Intervals or woru away. LIVING A LIE. Chone I'eople Who Dreaa or !.!▼* Be yond Their Mean*. Dressing or living beyond one's means Is nothing less than absolute dishon esty. If you are trying to do what you cannot afford to do, you are living a lie; if you are wearing clothes that you cannot afford, they are perjietual witnesses against you. They are la beled all over with falsehood. If your Jewelry, your carriages, your furs and your costly gowns tell me that you are rich when you live in a poverty strlck eu home and when your mother Is obliged to make all sorts of sacrifices to enable you to make tills false dis play, you lie just as surely as you would if you should try to deceive me by your words. The consciousness of being well dressed and yet owing for it, of riding In carriages which one cannot afford or of patronizing expensive hotels and restaurants which one cannot by any stretch of imagination or sophistry af ford, is destructive to self respect, to truth and honesty and to manhood and womanhood. You cannot afford to wear lies or eat lies any more than you can afford to tell lies. There Is only one pimslble result upon character of falsehoods, whether acted or told, and that is perpetual deteriora tion and demoralization. No one can act a lie or live a lie without being dis honest. When a man sacrifices his hon esty he loses the mainspring of Ills character, and he cannot be perfectly honest when he is lying by frequenting costly restaurants or hotels, by wear ing expensive clothing or by extrava gant living when he cannot afford It- Success. Win Injtiliig tho I*ala. "What's that watch worth V asked Mr. Kloce, pointing to ouo in the show ease. "Ten dollars," replied the Jew eler. "I'll take it," said the customer, and after paying for it he went out. The next day he came round again. i "This watch doesn't exactly suit me," 1 he said. "What's that one worth?" pointing to another. "Fifteen dollars." "I'll tßfce that instead of this one, if you don't mind." "Certainly." A day or two later he came again. ' "How good a watch have you got ' for $25?" he Inquired. "Well, $2T> will get a pretty good timepiece," said the Jeweler, handing one out. "Here's one with a gold filled case and full jeweled. The movement Is warranted." "I'll take it." He paid the difference, took the watch and went away. After the lapse of a few days he made his appearance once more. "Have you got a first class watch with a solid gold case that you can sell for $50?" lie said. "Yes. Here It Is." "Well, I'll take It," aaid Mr. Kloce. ( "Here's the other watch and |23. , That's the one I really wanted at first but I hated to pay out all that money at once." ( bnrm* of I'oaall Kantluf. One of the charms of the fossil hunt er's life Is the variety, the element of certainty, combined with the gambling ' element of chance. I.lke the prospector 1 for gold, the fossil hunter may pass 1 suddenly from the extreme of dejection to the extreme of elation. I.uck coines In a gn-at variety of ways, sometimes as the result of prolonged and deilber ate scientific search In a region which Is known to be fossillferons, sometimes 1 In such a prosaic manner as the dig ging of a well.-—Century. £>*0*0*0*0«0*00«0*0*0*0»0»0 5 He, She— g § And Charles § § Augustus By F B § 0 WRIGHT O • ( oin/riy'it, 19UL, lu • ! £ /'• C Mr (lure O o*o*o*o»o*oooo»o*o*o*o*o*o Charles Augustus had had a most ' unpleasant day.it had commenced i well enough, but had clouded over soon ! after he had started on his lessons ! about the dog and the rat and the ac tive cat. Then Iliggins had brought j Miss Purvis a letter, and with it some | thing had entered into «'harles Augus- I tus' life that he could by no means un | derstand. You see, Charles Augustus loved his I governess greatly. She came next to his father and mother and way above the goat. Charles Augustus had quite decided to marry Miss Purvis wheu he grew up and had i*en talked over the details with the young lady herself. The letter, when she read it, made Miss Purvis' face go all pink and beau tiful, and then pale and her eyes till j with tears. Then she put the letter I away in the bosom of her gown, and Charles Augustus thought that was the end of it. But It was not, for as often as he looked up from his book or slate he saw Miss Purvis reading the letter, and each time he saw tears in her eyes. What could it be in those scrawly black marks to make people cry? He cried when he was spanned or shut up in a closet or had to do something he did not want to—but this wasn't like that. Charles Augustus could not un derstand this silent crying. When be cried he wanted to let the whole world know—and usually succeeded. Later, when lessons were over, he saw Miss Purvis, through the window, Writing a letter, and she was crying over that Plainly there was some thing in this writing business which was decidedly unpleasant. Charles Au gustus decided then and there that he would never write. Then when she had finished slit* went off to the village and would not let Charles Augustus go with her. In that half hour of easy time which came when t'harles Augustus had shifted from his day things Into the ample lengths of his flannel pyjamas and, cuddled down into the big chair with Miss Purvis, toasted his pink toes before the tire preparatory to go ing bedwartl. he came once more across this peculiar thing which he could not understand, for Miss Purvis was strangely silent, only answering a list less yes or no to his observations on life aud the curious ways of people and the idiosyncrasies of the goat. She did not take much interest even when he touched upon the many things ho would give her when he became a man and they were married—the rings like mamma's and an express wagon and a Jnr of ginger. Though her arm drew him close when he told her how much he loved her, yet Charles Augua tus was not satisfied. He felt as though something invisible were be tween them. He put up a hand and turned her face toward him "You do love me, don't you?" he said. "And you will wait for me until 1 am big?" She kissed liim and told him "Yes." She would always be his sweetheart. "But I'm afraid, dear, I'll have togo away. Will you mind?" Charles Augustus minded very much and said so. and the thought kept him awake long after he had got into Ills bed. Through the door he could see Miss Purvis and the fire. Then he saw her of a sudden bend forward, her face In her arms, and hear her sob. Though he wanted to comfort her, something told Charles Augustus that Miss Purvis wanted to be let alone. At last she raised her tear stained face. "No, it must not be!" t'harles Au gustus heard her say. "They would think it was for his money, it is bet ter as it is—better for him. I must leave here as soon as I can, and, oli, I don't want to!" Then Miss Purvis took the letter, kissed It and put it iu a box on her dressing table, a box with curious pat terns in mother of pearl on it, and with a queer lock that only she and Charles Augustus knew how to open. Charles Augustus' mind started to work this thing out. This letter was the cause of Miss Purvis' feeling bad. It must be taken away that was all about It. The room was quiet; tin- fire died to a little glow of winking embers; Miss Purvis was asleep. Charles Augustus got up and got the letter. Then he hid It under the mattress and went to sleep with a lighter heart. Now Miss Purvis would be happy again, and she would not go away. But the next day Miss Purvis was not happy. True, she did not cry, nor did she read the Ivtter which Charles Augustus had craftily tucked Inside his blouse, but yet she was not the Miss Purvis of aforetime, who laughed and sang and romped on the lawn with him. It was not the mere possession of the letter then. What was It? "He must not come." "I must leave here." Charles Augustus remembered those words. Some one was coming then; some one who would carry Miss Purvis, the beloved, away. Charles Augustus thought of giants and gypsies and grew horribly alive to the exigen cies of the occasion. His father and mother were away, so he could not go to them for advice. There was only fine man in Charles Augustus' confidence, and he was very big and strong and knew everything Next to the goat, who was manifestly Inadequate under the circumstances, Charles Augustus adored this man. He lived In a house by himself, a long, loug way off beyond the most distant trees. Charles Augustus saw the man that afternoon. He had come to call, but Miss Purvis had excused herself. She had a headache, she said. Now, the man, whose name was Mr. Houghton, was going down the drive with great strides, and so intent on his own thoughts that he did not hear <"harles Augustus call to him. It took him a long time to catch up with the man. Inde«>d It did not happen until the lat ter had turned off into the woods and Charles Augustus' hat had been lost on the road and his legs much scratch ed with briers. Then Charles Augus tus told his story—about the letter and how she had kissed it and yet cried and was going away. "And she sahl 'I can't! I can't!' like that," ended Charles Augustus. "'He mustn't never know.' she said, and 'he mustn't never come here.' " What wasn't he to know, and who was he. aud did Mr. Houghton think It was a giant that was coming to carry Miss Purvis off? Then t'harles Augus tus took the letter from his blouse— and then the man knew. "I'm afraid it Is a giant," said Mr. Houghton gravely, "and it's lucky ! heard of it lu tiiue, because 1 was go- ? log away tomorrow. Hut now"— j "But now'/" said Charles Augustus ' anxiously. » "Now 1 think I'll go right hack to | | the house with you.'' 3 | "And you won't let her he tooken—l mean taked away?" Htiid Charles Au » gustus. I "No, she isn't going away," the man D 1 replied—"at least not very far " ® i They got out into the road and start | back. Charles Augustus' hand in t that of his friend and his small shoes 1 plowing through the dust. And then, [i at a turn in the road, they came sud 8 denly on Miss I'urvls, very white and Beared looking and carrying Charles t j Augustus' hut. "Charlie,"' she cried, 112 "I thought you were lost!" Charles Augustus plunged toward ' her. "I tolded him!" he cried trluui phantly. "I've told hint all about tho | letter and how you cried because the s giant was going to carry you off, arid i) he says the giant shan't and that you e are going to live here happily ever aft e er, amen, like people do In fairy sto u ' rlea. And you are, ain't you?" B Miss Purvis looked at the man a sec ond, and then her face came all pink— ,, and then she said "Yes." It was a very happy walk back home I to Charles Augustus, except that he r for some reason could not manage to \ walk between his two friends and hold s both their hands at the same time, a „ thing which Charles Augustus partlc r ularly wished, e Tit For Tat. ) Mr. A. was a millionaire. lie was I fifty. He met Miss B. Miss B. was a milliner. She was twenty. 9 Mr. A. fell in love with Miss B. He ' asked her to marry him. They were married. in ten years? Mr. A. wun sixty. Mrs. i : A. was then thirty. Mr. A. was still In j ; love with his wife. But he had found | out that she was not In love with hiiU. tlwit she never had i>eeii in love with 9 him and that she never would be lu ' love with him. He brooded over this. And ho diet! from a broken heart. But he left her all his money. Mrs. A. was u millionairess. She was , i forty. She met Mr. C. Mr. C. was a , musician. He was twenty-five. Mrs. A. fell in love with Mr. C. He 4 asked her to marry him. They were married. In ten years Mrs. C. was fifty. Mr. C. I wus then thirty-five. Mrs. C. was still j ! lu love with her husband. But she had 4 found out that he was not In love with her, that he never had been in love , I with her and that he never would be In | love with her. She brooded over this. , And she died from a broken heart. But t she left him all her money.- Town Top . lcs. Skeptic and Pr»imUt. Mr. Dolan looked at his visitor with ' an expression of confirmed opposition, and during the friend's argument he 1 further einphasized his disagreement ' by an occasional emphatic shake of the 1 j head. ' ! "Saw, 1 don't hold wld loife lusur -1 ance companies, nor yet wld savings 1 banks," he said stubbornly. "A couslu ; o' me own, he had his iotfe insured for the benefit o' his wlddy, an' nfther all ' he nlvver had one, for 'twas him lived to be eighty, an' her that doied. j "Wld banks it's Just the other way," he continued. "For there was urn own ' uncle, he put money la the bank and he kept sticking it lu and sticking It In In the hopes that whin old age come he | cud take It out gradual loike and enj'y himself, and instid o' that 'twas him that had the wlddy befoore he touched sixty-two! They're wurrked on the wrong plan, the both o' thlm institu tions, man, and It's a wonder to me to j hear you bp'aking a g>*>d wurrd for "em." QUEER ENGLISH BELIEFS. Boprmlllloni That Still Abide With the Country Folk. There is a well known weed with dark blotches on it. not unlike blood stains. 1 have been twice assured with tlie utmost seriousness by an old woman that "where you find them there a growing there's been a battle long ago." The same dame once seemed rather in a hurry when buying a setting of eggs from me about tea time, and 1 found the reason was that she believ ed you had no luck with eggs if you did not set them before sundown This Is curious, for, though the modern poultry keeper might make the nest and place the eggs lu It during the daytime, he would probably defer put ting the "broody" on them till dusk that she might have the best chance of settling down quietly. The other day in a neighboring cot tage I was admiring a fine baby and ventured to suggest that if its nails were left so long it might scratch its face. The mother said she would cut them, but the grandmother burst in with: "You'll do nothing of the sort, my dear, asking your psrdon, sir. You don't seem to know, sir, that to cut a i child's nails before it's twelve months old makes it light fingered." And 1 am perfectly certain the nails will not be cut. It will be of Interest to add that the cottagers 1 speak of live near enough to London to see its lights in the sky.—London Chronicle. Talked Too Much. Speaking one day of club soclabil i lty, Hy Mayer, the cartoonist, told of a club to which he was invited while in Berlin. The club was composed of elderly Germans, who met In a back room to drink beer and smoke. At In J tervals one of the clubmen would re move his pipe from his inouth, nod his head sagely and remark, "Yah." After a little pause another of the smokers would say, "Yah." That was the ex tent of their conversation. "One night," said Mr. Mayer, "one of the members brought his son to the club. After sev eral of the older ones had spoken as usual the youngster spoke. He said. 'Yah. yah.' They expelled him at once," concluded Mr. Mayer, "for talk lug too mueh." An Effective Whlotle. A popular English author was whol ly Incapacitated from work by a lady who lived next door and strummed through Handel's "Messiah."' His Idea of the inviolability of ati Englishman's house did not allow him to send in any message, and he was at his wits' end till he saw ins dally paper that steam whistles could be bought to fit onto kettle spouts, lie provided him self with one and put the kettle or j the tire m the room nearest the singer. As soon as the whistle began he went out. (if course the bottom came olt the keiile. but It cost little to solder i It on again, and alter two or thre* i Soldering* the 'ady took the hint. . __ ___ He Didn't Have to Kneel Dunn. Flora—What a lovely ring! And it'* a lady's ring too. Horace —Yes, I thought you would like it. Flora —Why, Is it for me? Horace—You are a lady, aren't you? Flora- Oh, dear! This is so sudden! —Chelsea I MUMS.< LIAXVTTN I TilK COCOON CI'A III,E MODE OF WRAPPING UP THE LITTLE REDSKIN PAPOOSE. Bead Hedecked Huckrikin Una Wlilcli the Indian Mali? llnntiiiK i Grown and Thrive!—Orfcln of Till* <loeer « ramped < rndlc. I j Fancy a tiny copper colored papoose i buckled up snugly in a queer buckskin I bag that resembles nothing In nature j so much as the cozy cocoon cradle of a baby butterfly and then draw upon ! your imagination still further, pictur ing tiiis odd receptacle swinging from the leafy canopy of an Indian wickiup or brush arbor, and you have before you an Indian baby and his wonderful cradle. (Jorgeous yellow butterflies and brown Kiowa babies are seldom linked together in song or story, yet in real life their wrappings while in tlie chrys alis state bear a remarkable resem blance to each other. The eocoon cradle proper and Its various modifications as found among the different tribes of North American Indians are constructed from the skins of animals. And right here we may pause and trace the origin of another famous nursery rhyme to the Indian cocoon cradle, for did not the father of Baby Bunting go a-hunting to get a little rabbit's skin to wrap that myth ical baby In? All full blood Kiowa babies are born into the pho-11-yo-ye, or rabbit circle, and are taught to dance In the mysterious circle of rab bits as soon as they learn to toddle, belonging to the rabbit order of the Kiowa soldiery. Hence a rabbit skin would be a very appropriate wrapping for a Kiowa Baby Bunting, though neither large enough nor strong enough for his cra dle. The red deer of the forest, quarry of the redskiuned hunter, gives of his beautiful covering to make the cradle that is to swing from the tree top, lit erally tree tops cut from the cotton woods and elms that fringe the clear little streams rippling through the Kiowa reservation and piled high on a framework of poles to serve as a "sum mer parlor" in front of his father's tepee. The crude deer hide is carefully dressed by a tedious and secret process kuown only to these Indians, and when finished is as soft and pliant as the most expensive chamois skin. Then loving lingers skillfully embroider with quills beautiful beadwork designs up on the delicately tinted deerskin. Kio wa cradles are more ornamental than I those of other tribes, and Kiowa ' squaws excel in that marvelous luiliau beadwork now the popular fad of their paleface sisters. Some of this bead work embroidery is not only very beau tiful, but very elaborate. The Sioux ■ squaws, who alone rival their Kiowa sisters, ornament the cradles of their little ones with bands of deerskin, up on which are wrought in colored beads gorgeous patterns of men, horses, birds, fish and flowers. Instead of a wooden j framework they substitute a basket work frame of reeds and sometimes they use seed and grasses instead of beads The Cheyenne, Apache and Coman che Indians all use cocoon cradles pat terned after the Kiowa cradles, but theirs are not ornamented as elabo rately as those of the Klowas. In truth, the grim and warlike Comanche of the plains wastes very little time In decorating the receptacle of his off spring. A stout piece of deerskin, fas tened to an equally stout wooden frame and laced up securely with rawhide thongs, suffices his simple need. The origin of the cocoon cradle itself, like that of the redskins, seems wrap ped in mystery, though we might with reason trace this primitive cradle back to the Lapps of northern Europe, whose babies sleep In little hollowed out af I fairs swung down from the lower limbs of trees. They are lined with moss and laced up, and in shape are exactly like the primitive Indian co coon cradle from which the modern cocoon cradle, beautified and improved, has been evolved. After the beadwork embroidery is j '.•ompleted the deerskin pouch or bag The Home Paper ;of Danville. j Of course you read j ,1 1 mii j THE AEOPLE'S \\ KOPULAH I A PER. | i Everybody Reads It. | | Published Every Morning Except Sunday n! ! i 1 F V No. ii E. Mirh rig* St. 5 a ai Subscription 6 , : \ r Week. " V Is" fastened sc. urcly upon a strong I board whose two upright handles, pro | jectlng above the headpiece or hood, ; are strengthened by a crosspiece at the back. These handles are very con venient when the mother '•"* htisy about | her manv tasks; il it be warm weather, ; baby is swum; from the top of the brush arbor, his round, brown face pewring smilingly from out its trap- j plugs of gay U beaded deerskin, his j bright little eyes blinking at the sun- I beams shining through the leafy roof, or the llaiues of the nightly campfire leaping up to mingle with the uioon -1 light. When ''trailing'' at the agency ! stores, the squaw props the cradle, "baby and all," against the counter and goes calmly about the important business of laying iu a supply for her j family in their tepee far out on the ; reservation. Mother love fills the heart of a poor squaw as completely as it does that of her more fortunate paleface sister. Her clumsy fingers fashion playthings of shells, odd shaped bones, carved wooden beads, bright pieces of tin, china or glass, which she hangs about the hood of the cocoon cradle In reach of the chubby brown fists. Baby soon i learns to rattle these primitive play things gleefully. Srtange as it may appear, the red- Bkitmed Baby Huntings seem to thrive in their cramped quarters, but they en joy as a famous treat a change to the blankets upon their mothers' backs, when the t >!!it;g squaws are forced togo down to the scant timber stretches along the creek to bring up firewood and water for the camp.—Los ; Angeles Times. fieiue*N Seune of Humor. Heine's sense of humor did not leave him until the last. A few days before his death Hector Berlloe called on him Just as a tiresome German professor : was leaving after worrying him with his uninteresting conversation. "I am | afraid you will find me very stupid, j my dear fellow," he said. "The fact Is i I have Just been exchanging thoughts with Dr. On one occasion when the doctor was examining his chest he asked him, "Can you whistle?" He replied, "Alas, no; not even the pieces of M. Scribe " .Made n Look Kor the Key. An old and curious key and lock are attached to the door of Temple church in Fleet street, London. The key weighs seven pounds, is eighteen inch es long, and. unlike other keys, it was not made for the lock. On the contra ry, the lock was made for it. Both key and lock have been in use since the crusades, the church itself having been built by the Knights Templars In 1485 ) —London Standard. J .J. BROWN THE EYE A SPECIALTY. Eyes tested, treated, fitted with , es AUII artificial eyes supplied. Market Street, Bloomsburg, Pa. Honrs—lo a. m.to r> p. in. fil If I A Hellatoi© TIN SHOP | Tor all kind of Tin Roofing Spouflne and Gsneral Jolt Work. Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, Furnaces, sto. PRICES THE LOWEST! QDiLITY TAB BEST! JOHN HIXSON NO. 116 E. FRONT ST. Nothing has ever equalled it. Nothing can ever surpass it. Dr. Kings New Discovery A Perfect For All Throat and Cure: Lung Troubles. Money back if it fails. Trial Bottle* free. | ACKAWANNA RAILROAD U -BLOOMSBURG DIVISIOI^ WKHT. A. M. A M. A. M. > i New York Iv 200 .... 10 00 I • P. M. Hcranton ar bl7 ... 150 P. M. | Buffalo ... Iv il BO 245 v M. | Hcranton ar 558 10 05 .... A. M. A. M. P. M. P. 5. | Scrantou Iv tb 35 *lO 10 1156 *t 1 j Bellevue Taylor. 644 10 17 £O3 t< Lackawanna.. 650 10 2-1 210 eg- I Duryea 663 10 2b il3 Mi | PittHton 658 10 33 217 6 5 I Susquehanna Ave 701 10 37 218 66; i West Plttston 705 10 41 223 7 0 j Wyoming.... 710 10 46 227 7 0 ' torty Fort 2 31 I Bennett 717 10 52 234 ;i ! Kingston ar 724 10 66 240 7 2 , Wlikes-Barre ar 710 11 10 250 7 * j Wilkes-Barre Iv 710 10 40 230 T1 Kingston Iv 724 10 56 24C 72 l Plymouth June Plymouth 735 11 06 2it 7 Nantlcoke 743 11 13 258 7 Hunlock's 7IV 11 IK 3 Ofc 7« Hhlckshlnny 801 1131 820 7 5 Hicks Kerry 811 111 43 330 fb C Beach Haven 819 1148 S« 8 0 (Berwick 827 11 54 344 j Brlarcreek f8 32 .... f3 50 Willow Grove fb 36 .... f,s 54 rt 1 Lime Kidge 840 fl2 OK 358 fN Kspy 846 12 15 406 8 » ! Bloomsburg 853 12 22 412 8«i j Kupert 857 12 25 415 K4l I Catawlssa. 902 12 32 422 tj i Danville 915 13 44 433 » Cameron 924 fl2 67 443 I Northutnber 'd ar 955 110 455 KASr A M. \. M. P. M. P. 6 I Nortmimher'.' ... *ls fl<'W' t' »o * 5 ! "araerou •> 57 .. . f2 01 < Danville 705 10 19 2D at 1 Catawlssa 1 .'1 10 82 223 4 » Kupert 726 10 17 22# 0 0 j Bloomsburg 733 11) 41 233 61 | Kspy 738 10 48 240 b 1 I Lime Kldge 744 flo 54 f2 46 fs 2 | Willow Grovn f7 48 r2 00 .... Brlarcreek 7 62 f2 53 I 6« Berwick 757 11 05 258 6 i Beech Haven sOS fll 12 803 «i Micks Kerry 811 fll 17 3 jfc t ( Hhlckshlnny 822 11 31 i2O ft ftl Hunlock's Bas 331 f7 uj NantlCOke 838 11 44 338 711 Avondale 841 342 72J Plymouth 845 1153 347 'SI Plymouth June 847 .... 352 .. . Kingston ar 855 1159 400 781 Wlikes-Barre ar 1) 10 12 10 410 781 Wllkes-Barre Iv 840 11 40 350 7M Kingston Iv 855 11 59 400 71 Luzerne 858 al2 02 403 7 4 Forty Kort f9 0C .... 407 .... Wyoming 905 12 08 412 741 West Plttslon 910 417 71 Susquehanna Ave ... 913 12 14 420 71 ! Plttston t» 19 12 17 424 801 Duryea 923 429 101 Lackawanna 926 432 811 Taylor 932 «40 817 Bellevue .... Hcranton ar 942 12 35 450 821 A. M. P. M P. M Hcraitoj Iv 10 25 f55 .... 1111 A. M Buffalo »r .... 755 701 A. M. P. M P.M A.fc ScrantOD . . l«* 10.10 12.40 (3 35 *2 01 P.M. P.M P.M A. tt New York ar 330 500 735 651 •Dally, tDally except Sunday. Stops ou signal or on notice to conductor - a Stops on signal to take on passengers lo< New York. Binghamton and points west. T. K.CLAKKK T. W. LEE' Gen. Huperlntendent. Gen PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD, TIME TABLE In Effect Nov. 2!>th, 1903. A.M.iA.M. I\M. Scranton(D4iH)lv $6 M? iv 471 143 i* 28 Pittston " " 705 fH'la'S 2105 & v A.M. P.M. P.M Wilkesbarre,.. IvA. M. §lO 35 24558 00 Plym'th Ferry " 8 725f 10 42' f25218 07 Nantlcoke " 732 10 50 301 817 Mocanauua .... " 742 11 07 32n 6 37. Wapwailopen.. " sOl 11 lti 331 8 47; Noscopeck ar slO 11 2»i 342 7 ooj A.M. A.M. p-jst- Pousville 5 sfi |SII 55 Hazleton "' 705 ...... 245§2 45 Tomhicken "I 722 1 305 305 Fern Glen " 724 315 315 Kock Glen "i 7 5 22 822 Noscopeck .... ar' 102 j Catawlssa j , j400400 ~ . _! *~il A. M P. M. P M | Nescopeck... .Iv? blB 511 26 342 j7 001 Creasy •• 83( 11 lit j 852 7 09| Espy Ferry... ' I S4: 1146 14 02 7 801 E. Hloomsburs " 847 11 50j 406 72 i Catawissa Iv 856 11.57 413 732! South Danville '• 914 12 15: 4 31, 751 Sunhury ur 985 12 40 4 soj 8 15 ! ~~ A.M. P.M. P. M RM.j Sunbury Iv; li 9 42 sli 48 § 5 18 <1 531 Lewisburg.... ar 10 13 1 4"> 54* Milton " 10 08 1 39; 544 10 141 Williainsport.. " 11 0<» 141 640 10 00! Lock Haven... " 11 69 2 20, 737 i Kenovo "A.M. S 00! 830 j Kane " 8 25 P.M. P.M. Lock Haven..lv jl2 10 3 3 45' Bellefoute ....ar 1 05,1 444 { Tyrone " 2 lo'il 600 Phillpsburg " 510\ 802 1 Clearfield.... " 654S 845 Pittsburg.... " 655 310 45 A.M. P. M. P. M. P Ml Sunbury lv| 9605i1 SB I 5 10>S8 31 Harrishurg.... ar 11 30 §3 15 6 50,10 10 j ■ P. M. P. M. P. M. A M Philadelphia., ar § 3 17 j, 6 23 || 9 2b 4 23 Baltimore "|§ 311 |8 00 945 220 Washington... " j 4 20 |, 7 16 1 0 55 .3 30j |A."M. PTM. : Sunbury Iv }lO 00 § 2 15j 1 Lewistown Jc. ar 11 45 405 | Pittsburg •'! 6 55]g10 45 1 ~~ A.M. P, M P. M. Harrishurg.... Iv 11 46 il 6 20 |i 7 20 5110.) P. M. A M. A. M. A M Pittsburg ar J ti 55; j| 160,j| 1 50; 5 30 P.M. P MA M AM; Pittsburg Iv 7 lo f9 00 i 3 00.18 00 .... IA. M A M( 1 PMj Harrishurg.... ar 200 S 4 25|j|U 25 J3 lo ... Plttsbuig Iv I 9 00; ;8 00 .... A.M. PM L.ewlstown Jt. "i \: 7 Sunbury ar ; 8 2D| j5 4 60 .... :P. M.j A M A M A M Wnshington... Iv 10 4o ill 7 5 1 ' 10 5n Baltimore " 11 00|J 440 840 11 45 Philadelphia... "11 40 jj 4 25jj 8 30 U 'N'i"" A. M. A M 1 A. M. P M Harrishurg.... Iv 335 j 7 ■'•s|jll 40 53 25 Sunbury ar,,: 5 00; : »;»i 1Ob; 613 P.M. A M A M | Pittsburg Iv ; 12 45 3 00 ; b o<i Clearfield.... " 3 :s0; j : 920 •••* Phillpsburg.. " 4 25; 10 It:; *•' Tyrone " 70C s8 10 12 25, •* * • Bellefoute.. " bit; 9 32' 125"" Lock Haven ar 915 10 30: 210 "" P. M. A M A M P.V ' Erie Iv 535 Kane "I 8 45 1 U 600 Kenovo " II 50|j ti 4n, 10 30 ji 1 1! "' Lock Haven.... " 12 38 730 11 25 2 50,"" A.M.; P M WllllamsiKjrt .. " 214 825 :12 40 350 Milton 2 23, 913 1 2r"> 438 •" Lewisburg " j 905 I 15 4 221"" Sunbury. ar 3 9 45; 164 605 "*i~7M. AM I' M PMi Sunbury Iv 6 45. {955i2 00 s 6 2'.; South Danville" Hi io 17 221 550 "" Catawlssa " 32 10 36 236 6 081"*" E Bloomsburg.. ' 37 10 43 243 8 15,"" Espy Ferry...." 42 flO 47 (8 lit "" Creasy " 52 10 58 205 630 "" Nescopeck " 02 11 06, 305 840 A M A M P. M. P M ! Catawissa Iv 10' ft*; Nescopcck Iv 823 5505; 705 •••• Kock Glen ar 11 22 7 28 ••" Fern (Hen "i 851 11 281 532 734 "" Tomhicken " 868 11 38 538 742 Hazleton " 919 11 57 5 5!», 806 "" Pottsvllle " 10 15 150 655 AM AMP M P M| Nescopeck Iv j8 02 11 05\\ 305ij 840 Wapwailopen..ar 8 lit il '2O 320 662 "" Mocanaqua.... "I 831 1132 830 7 01"" Nanticoke "l 854 11 64 349 719 "" P Ml Plym'th Ferry' I 9 02 12 <>2 357 I 7 is •••• Wilksbarie ..." 910 12 10 406 736 AM P M P M P Plttston(DAH) ar \ v 39 112 29 \ 4 ftti inuton " M l io 08, 108) ft M'| Weekdays. I llaily. I Flag station. Pullman Parlor and Sleeping Cars run on hrouith trains between Surbury. Williamspori md Erie, between Sunbnry aui Philadelphia ind Washington and between Harristiurs:- Pitta >urg and the West. For further Information apply to Ticket Agent .V. W. ATTERBI KY, J. K. WOOD General Manager. Pass. Trattle Mflr (j to \\ BOYD, GEN I Passenger Ageitt 1111 jllllL We want to io oD Ms of Printing ' !■! ITS Nel. I II ill Pltß. : is unit. , 4 i i i A well prin!c tastv, Bill or Le \\ ( ter Head, Por.L-r A/A Ticket, Circuhn y»V Program, State nient or Card ( w an advertisement f'oryoui business, a satisfaction to you low Type, Net Presses, ~ Best Paper, Moil Wort Promptness- All you can ask. A trial will make you our customer. We respectfully ask that trial. 111 11 No. II K. Mahoning St.. JI-riLiE:. IP-A
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers