1> —«">
HIS SOCIAL
EXPERIMENT
By Willa>.rd Wjk.ll Wheeler
Copyright, 1905, by \V. \V. Wheeler
0 o
"Well, that spoils the evening for
me," observed Strong gloomily, linger
ing a note which said that the grip
would prevent a certain young lady
from attending the opera that night.
"Sorry Gladys is sick. No; confound it
if I am! TSiese eleventh hour excuses
are getting too frequent. I won't stand
for it. I wonder if Elizabeth Miller
will go,"he mused, his
dressing. "No; I'll stay at home to- '
night. What right has a girl to make
a fellow miserable anyhow? I—come
in."
"And here's your mendin', Mr. How
ard," said the young woman who en- !
tered. She addressed him according to i
a custom in his family before the deatii
of his parents had driven him into an
apartment house, where he had found
a position for the faithful servant.
"Thank you, Mary," saitl Strong
without pausing in his wrestling bout
with a collar button. "Mary, I have a
couple of extra tickets for the theater
tonight. Can't you get Pat to take
you ?"
"It's always Pat you're a-teazin' me
about, Mr. Howard, and there ain't a
Pat—not for me. 1 ain't pretty enough,
and, then, I'm thirty-five. Sure, it's
many a year since I've seen a theater.
All our money goes to the doctor. I d
have togo alone."
"No, Mary; yon must not be neglect
ed in that fashion," he said, turning
abruptly from the mirror. "Let me be
Pat tonight."
"Oh, Mr. Howard, I couldn't—it
wouldn't—no, sir. oh. Mr. Howard, 1
it's Jokin' you are, after all," she ex
claimed as a smile spread over his
face.
"No, Mary, I never was more serious
in my life. I am going to give you,
Mary McGinnis, the best time of your
life. Put on your best bonnet and be
ready by a quarter to S. You live at"—
"On Third avenue, hack, three
flights up. Hut, Mr. Howard" —
"No excuses, Mary. Now goodby, or
we'll both l>e late."
Throughout dinner at the club that
night Strong's face repeatedly relaxed
at the oddity of his experiment. Its
unconventionality did not worry him,
for the wealth and social position of
the Strongs put him beyond the sting
of criticism.
"Opera tonight. Strong?" drawled
young Castlewood, whom he particu
larly disliked, dropping into a vacant
Beat.
"No; had planned to surprise Gladys
Hastings with that new piav—Man
ton's—for a change, but she's sick.
However"—
"Well, you needn't waste any time
asking Elizabeth Miller," laughed Cas
tlewood, "for I'm going to take her
myself."
"Oh, don't worry." replied Strong,
nettled.
"No offense, old man; knew you were
Inclined in that direction, though be- '
tween two fires at present. But, by
the way," he added, aiming a parting
thrust, "1 hear that Count tie Mignv
arrived here today en route for San
Francisco. Guess you've heard Gladys
apeak of him. Keep your eye on him.
He's a clever chap."
"Smooth might better describe him.
1 know absolutely that he's bogus," j
replied Strong.
"Oh, have it your way," drawled
■Castlewood, departing. Strong was be
tween two fires, and, knowing it, rc
eeuted all the more these insinuations.
Which disturbed him more, the
thought of Castlewood's recent marked
attention to Elizabeth or the arrival of
the count, he could not determine.
At first Mary was ill at ease that
night with Strong, tlie luxurious car
riage. his evening dress and polished
manners being strange to her, but his
geniality soon put her at ease. On the
way he stopped at a florist's.
"These violets are for you, Mary,
and the roses for another nice young
lady who is 111," he explained.
"Thanks, Mr. Howard, and it's the
lady with the beautiful eyes that is
nick? Oh, I am so sorr3 - !" she ex
claimed.
"Yes, she has beautiful eyes. Mary,
but where did you see her?"
"At the tea you gave in your apart
ments last year. She thinks every
thing of you. Mr. Howard. I could see
that plain, and if she grows up to be
as flue looking as her mother, why,
you'll—you'll"—
"But her mother was not there," he
said, coming to her rescue.
"Oh, yes, she kept saying Elizabeth
this and Elizabeth that. She"—
"But I'm not talking about Eliza
beth. These flowers are for Miss Hast
ings, the girl with the heavy auburn
hair," replied Strong, amused.
"Oh. I remember her," she said dis
appointedly. • I'm so sorry. I thought
it was—l mean—oh, I don't know what
I mean. I'm an old goose, Mr. How
ard," she finally exclaimed, much dis
tressed.
They were now at the Hastingses,
where Strong had ordered the coach
man to stop.
"How is Miss Hastings?" Strong in
quired at the door.
"Why—why— Oh, she's better." re
plied the well drilled man. recovering
himself. Strong left the flowers and
returned to the carriage with strange
misgivings.
Strong did not heed the many won
dering glances his friends cast in his
direction that night, for lie was doing
his best to make it a red letter occa
sion for Mary. Moreover, lie was hav
ing a heart to heart talk with himself,
in which two young women prominent
ly figured. What Mary said and did
iu a situation new \ her is another
story, but when it w < > cr --in. sighed
as if waking from :tifui Cream. |
"Hello, Strong! Cot her. after all, I !
see," came to his ears as they were
entering the foyer. Turning, he saw
Castlewood with Elizabeth Miller.
"How are you, Elizabeth?" he in
quired. "Miss Miller, let me present
Miss McGinnis, and Mr. Castlewood
Miss McGinnis." Castlewood, gazing
in wonder, forgot to bow, but Eliza
beth greeted Mary cordially. It was
a friend of Strong. That was sutfi
elent for her. Soon they passed on.
"Oh, Mr. Howard! That's the girl
with tne beautiful eyes." exclaimed
Mary. "Ain't she handsome
And you don't care—you"—
"I have not said I didn't care,
Mary," he said simply, but earnestly.
"And, oh, Mr. Howard, there Is the
girl with the auburn hair, too!" she in
terrupted. "Why, I thought she was
the sick one."
"Gladys Hastings," involuntarily
came to his lips as he followed Mary's
4&se. la a muiiieut he was opposite
her and their eyes had met.
"Oh, Howard I—l—l thought we—l
thought you were going to the opera!"
she exclaimed in contusion. "You see,
the count came, and I was so much
better I couldn't disappoint him, as he
is here in New York only for one even
ing. But, pardon let me present Mr.
Strong—Count de Migny." And then
her eyes wandered haughtily to Mary.
"And let me introduce the Duchess
of Kilkenny Miss Hastings and Count
de Migny," said Strong gravely, though
smiling inwardly. The count's French
manners brought forth a low bow,
while Gladys scarcely nodded.
"And wasn't that the girl?" asked the
mystified Mary when they were iu tiie
carriage.
"Yes," Strong replied, but he was
silent for a long time.
"She was so uppish to me," Mary
finally ventured, "while Miss Miller
treated me as if 1 was a real lady."
"And you are, Mary a thousand
times the lady that some one thinks
she is," he said seriously.
"But why di<l you call me duchess?"
"That was a little joke on the bogus
count," he replied, his face relaxing.
"That will make both of them think a
bit. But here we are at your home.
And you say your father Is too ill to
work, and you support the family?
Well, you are a noble girl, and I don't
half appreciate the way you look after
me and my apartments,'* lie said as he
assisted her from the carriage and
slipped a fifty dollar bill into her
hand.
"Thanks, Mr. Howard," she said
gratefully, thinking it was her monthly
tip of"This will help father a
lot. Mr. Howard, you've given me the
best time I ever had. I"
"Tut, tut. Mary. It's been a selfish
pleasure for me, I fear. 1 took you as
an experiment, and a lucky one it's
proved. You have helped to open my
eyes to the true woman—the woman of
my heart. 1 can never forget that.
Good night."
\«» Opening? For Mini.
"Morning! Gov'nor iu?" inquired a
confident looking stranger of a young
man who was weighing sugar in a
thriving village grocery store.
"Yes. sir."
"Cm-ni! Advertised for a manager,
I believe?"
"Yes, we have."
"Present manager anywhere about?"
"I'm acting in that capacity at pres
ent."
"You are! Well, then, you can give
me a tip as to what kind of a codger
the govn'nor is, anyway. Old?"
"No; about my age."
"What's your trouble with him—close
fisted?"
"Some people think he is."
"That's the trouble with most of 'em.
but trust me to get the worth of my
time out of him, one way or another,"
with a wink. "Just give him my card,
will you?"
"I'm engaging the new man, if you're
applying for the place," returned the
other.
"You are? Well, now, do you think
you could come to an immediate de
cision if I made it worth your while?"
with another wink and drawing a bill
from his pocket.
"Shouldn't wonder."
"Ah!" chuckled the applicant, flick
ing the greenback across the counter,
"I thought that would fix it. When
shall I show up for biz?"
"Why, 1 don't believe you'd better
show up at all for business here," re
plied the other quietly, pushing the
money back to its owner. "You see,
I happen to be the 'governor' myself,
and—l don't believe you're just the
man we're looking for. Good morning
sir!"
Short on Word*.
Bishop Thirhvall, an English prel
ate, had the greatest possible aver
sion to answering questions. One day j
a tailor said to him when he had been
summoned to take the bishop's meas
urements, "What are your lordship's
orders?" "I want a suit of clothes."
"Here is a very nice cloth, my lord."
"Ah!" "And this is likewise a very
good one." "Yes." "Here is another
of excellent quality." "Yery." "Which
material will your lordship decide
upon?" "I want a suit of clothes."
And that was all the answer the tailor
could get. When the new gardener
accosted him as he was walking, book
in hand, in the garden to ask, "How
will your lordship have this border
laid out?" there was no answer. "How
will your lordship be pleased to have
this border laid out?" was the next
attempt. Still there was no reply, but j
when the question was repeated for
the third lime the answer came, "You
are the gardener, 1 believe, and I am
the bishop."
AMERICAN LANDSCAPE.
llow It Differ* From That of Enjf
lnnd mill the Continent.
The American landscape, even in the
older parts of the country, is generally
unkempt and does not lend Itself as
readily to formal treatment as does the
typical English or continental land
scape. The owners of big estates rare
ly appreciate the scale on which the
landscape architecture should be laid
out and the patience which is neces
sary to obtain a complete and consum
mate effect. They want ready made
estates. Finally, the leading American
house architects have, with a few ex
ceptions, a good deal to learn about
the technique of landscape design. So
far as the large house itself Ls con
cerned, a convention bus been estab
lished which is in the main a good
convention, but the designing of gar
dens is still in an early experimental
stage. The stage properties are col
lected in abundance. There Is no lack
of pergolas, fountains, well heads, ga
zebos, statuary and pottery, but as like
ns not they are Indiscriminately placed.
The architectural features are, how
ever, generally somewhat better man
aged than Ihe planting, which fre
quently looks as If an Irish gardener
had been given some vague general di
rections, or as if die lady of the house
had considered that it was a woman's
business t ) make the garden green.
As a mutter <>f fact, however, the lady
of the house, iti case she lias her own
way, generally points the garden yel
low and red rather than green. Her
Idea usually i; nic e', to get as much
bloom as pos-Ible. and this she does at
n sacrifice oft'• • • e ma-ses of foliage
which are abs u <•!>' ice -ary to give
mass, body and depih to a large gar
den.—Architectural Record Magazine.
"Shorry I m sho late, m' dear," be
gan Dingle apologetically, "but shonie
fresh Jokers stopped me an' wouldn'
lemmee go"
"Indeed?" interrupted his wiftt 'Why
didn't you take the brick out of your
hat and hit them with it?"— Philade
lphia Press.
ffo Not Itnsh.
One need n >t thrust his hand Into a
raging furnace even though he knows
that a precioi's jewel lies therein H"
may be patient until the (lames are
spent.—From "The Bishop's Niece," by
Gtortre H. Picurd.
I
in the Dunes
By HONOR E WILLSIE
Copyright, Unto, by Honore Willsie
i o
Lake Michigan is covetous of her
eastern shore. Year after year her
sands creep inland. Inch by inch, mile
by mile, now a peach orchard is smoth
ered, now a mellow wheatfield is
blotted out, and In their stead scrub
pines thrive and sand burs sprawl in
the sun. Year by year the scrub
| pines grow stouter and the sand burs
tangle thicker and thicker, and with
each year the desolation of the sand
dune country increases. Hoads formed
one month are shifting dunes the next.
Inland lakes, once green and lovely,
slowly and mercilessly are choked un
til only sand skirted pools remain.
And still the desolation grows.
Katherine and her Great 1 »ane hud
dled together under the scrub pine
and watched the gray of the twilight
turn to purple.
"Well, we're lost, Jacky," she said,
"just plain lost! The hunting lodge
ought to be over in that direction, but
it's not, and they have supper so late
they won't miss us for another hour.
How would It seem to spend the night
in the sand burs, do you suppose,
Jacky?"
Jacky whined and laid his great head
in the girl's lap. She rubbed his ears
absentmindedly and started off over
the dunes. "I'm not frightened," she
said.. "I'm just—just lonely. Well,
let's empty our shoes, Jacky, and start
on."
The low shoes once more securely
tied, Katherine picked up the bit of
fish rod with which as a staff she had
strolled from camp early in the after
noon and struggled to the top of the
dune, the dog trudging beside her, with
now and again a growl at the shadowy
pines. From the top of this heap of
sand she saw another heap looming
through the dusk. Down she waded,
now leaning on her bit of bamboo, now
holding to Jacky's collar, until from
' the top of this she discovered a third
bur crowned dune. On the top of the
third dune she dropped down to rest, j
while the dog crouched on Iter skirts, j
with watchful ears pricked forward, j
Suddenly he gave a little yelp and ran
Into the dusk.
"Jacky!" called the girl. Then she
strugled after him through the heavy
sand.
"Why," she said, "it's another little
lake! Look out, Jacky; don't drink too
much. I'm not thirsty enough to drink
water I can't see. Why, how soft this
sand Is! Jacky—it—why—l'm In way
above my ankles!"
She floundered toward the dog as he
turned toward her with a whine, the
Instinctive desire in danger of the liv
ing for the living.
"Oh, Jacky, it's one of the quicksand
bars!"
Trembling and panting, the dog ;
threw himself against her knees, while I
his whines changed to sharp yelps. In
vain Katherine struggled to draw her j
feet from the sand. It had closed
about each foot with the grip of giant j
hands that insistently, silently drew j
her down. She stooped and felt j
Jacky's back. Already the quivering
I sands were half way up his legs. As
she felt of him his yelping ceased. He
\ reached tip and licked the face bending
i over him. Then he crouched low, while
| Katherine felt his great muscles swell
and stiffen. Then suddenly he hurled
| himself forward with all the strength
! of his lean, magnificent body and iu
three leaps had disappeared into the
dusk. Katherine gave a low sob.
"Oh, Jacky, how could you leave
me?" Again, •summoning all her
: strength, she strove to follow him.
i But the struggle was worse than use
less. And now the <"11111 that had pos
i sessed her left her. She stooped and
scooped at the sand about her ankles
| with bare hands, digging frantically,
| with low moans not unlike Jacky's.
I Handful after handful, then a pause,
| while she stared out Into the darkness
with shrieks for help. The sand had
| crept above her knees. With broken
j nails she stopped to listen. Yes, far
1 out across the dunes she heard a
man's shout and Jacky's excited bark,
1 and again she raised her own hoarse
cry. Then she heard the crackle of
j sand burs.
"Katherine, for heaven's sake, where
i are you?" Ills voice!
"Go back, Hugh—go back! I'm In
| the quicksand!"
Silence from the shore, then: "Stay
perfectly still. I'll be out there In a
few minutes. I'm going to cut pine
boughs to walk on."
In utter thankfulness Katherine stood
silent. Then surprise swept over her.
Hugh! That was Hugh, whom she
had not seen or heard of for a year,
not since she had tossed the ring—the
wedding ring—back to him and said:
"Well, six mouths have shown us
what a fuddle we have made of mar
riage. Let's have sense enough to stop
; now. We evidently don't care enough
j to give iu to each other."
Without a word Hugh had taken the
ring and left her. And now to be
found this way, and by him! In si
lence she watched the path he made
grow out toward her and in silence
lieArd Jacky's excited greetings to her
from the shore. Then, after what
seemed a lifetime of battle with a
creeping sand, the man lifted her in
his arms and silently carried her to
the shore. She lay quietly, while the
dog fawned about her and the man, a
broad shouldered figure in the summer
darkness, brushed the sand from her
skirts and emptied her sodden shoes.
"What am 1 <0 do with you, Kather
ine?" he asked.
"I got lost from camp," she an
swered. "I don't know. Show me the
way back, and I'll go when I'm rested.
I don't want that coward Jacky,
though."
"Iv i< driving out to Camp Minitka.
1 didn't know you were there. John
:1 -! .<l :t.• 1.1 effect a reconciliation, I
suppose. It is like him. Jacky was
running about among the burs, whin
ing. Then he aw me and literally
dragged me out of the buck hoard and
down here. I shall drive you back to
camp and then return to town."
The girl put her arm about the dog,
and he snuggled down beside her with
a deep sigl, "That will be best, 1
suppose," she said.
"I think 1 s II leave you here,"
Hugh went on. "• lb 1 '- Igo back for
the horse It li. t be three-quarters
of a mile a a\ ' tie pulled off his
coat, wrapped It ab->ut Katheriue's
shoulders and str< le off into the dark
ness.
Katherine lay in the warm sand
close to .Incky, who watched her every
movement. She was not at all afraid.
! It seemed to her that, after the won
der of her rescue, she never again
could know fear. Little by little the
stars grew brighter and the answering
"low of the sand seemed like the hai*
light of some strange new dawn. At
first she lay without articulate thought,
thankful to l»e alive, to feel the
warmth of the sand and of the great
dog beside her, to rest her strained
muscles.
Then suddenly the past year, which
had seemed to her so heroic, so sacri
ficlal, seemed very useless and shal
low.
"I must find some new thing to do,"
she thought. "Hugh has gone on in
his work. 1 must find work for my
self." I
She moved closer to the dog and i
half unconsciously raised her bead
from the sand to listen for the crackle (
of sand burs under heavy boots. Then
almost without warning Hugh stood
beside her.
"Can you walk," he said, "or shall
I carry you?"
"Oh, I can walk,", she answered as
he helped her to her feet. They walked '
In silence to the buckboard. Hugh
untied the horse and, reins lu hand,
stood waiting to help her.
Katherine stared at the man. She '
seemed to havel awakened from a
dream. "And Iwe missed a whole
year," she said. '(And who am Ito set
myself In Judgment of us both? Hugh," 1
with a pitiful littllo Inflection of huinil- 1
lty In her voice that was as strange to 1
her own ears—"Hugh, will you—shall
we try again?" !
I'or one moment he stared at the
drooping head of the girl. "Dear!" he
said after awhile, and, gathering her
in his arms, he climbed into the buck- |
board, and, with Jacky following close <
behind, they drove slowly off into the j 1
summer night.
j i
FenclnK For Exerefae. 1
The enormous value of continual 1
practice with the foils as a means of i
securing and preserving good health is, i
In my humble opinion, the main reason i
for the steady hold of fencing upon I
public favor In France and Italy. It is i
only of late years that the attention be- i
stowed by medical men upon physical
exercise, In France at least, where 1
I>r. Lagrange's treatises have become <
classical, has given prominence to the ]
worth of fencing as a health factor.
Every one knows, or, rather, every 0110
should know, that fencing presses into <
J service every muscle of the human ;
frame, that It creates and develops
j suppleness and quickness, that prac
j tlced in youth It Imparts a freedom and
I grace of motion absolutely unattain- i
| able by other means, that It is not a i
: violent exercise In so far as injury by i
strain Is involved and, finally, that its
perils are comparatively few. At very
remote intervals one hears of a fatal
Injury resulting, almost invariably
from a cheap or damaged mask or
from the foolhardy practice of exercis- i
ing without the usual head or chest
covering or with an ill buttoned foil.
The proportion of mishaps to the num
ber of fencers, however, is infinitesi
mal.—Frederick A. Schwab In Outing.
A I.IIIIK Wnlk.
The dear old professor was one of
the kindest hearted men in the world,
hut he was also one of the most ab
sentminded. He was recently visit
ing his newly married nephew, and,
naturally, the young wife was full «.•'
the praises of her firstborn. The pro
fessor listened like a man ill a dream
to her recital of the remarkable fort 1
tude with which he cut his teeth and
hls-tnilj wonderful intelligence. At
last the dear old fellow woke up with
a start and felt he really must say
something for the sake of at any rate
appearing interested. "Can the dear
little fellow walk?" he Inquired mild
ly. "Walk?" said the proud mother.
"Why, he has been walking six
months!" "Hear me!" said the pro
fessor, lapsing once more into abstrac- ;
tion. "What a long way he must have
got!"
American < Itilin All Wrong.
"American clul.s are few and small," '
said a soi ial philosopher, "because the\ ■
exist on a radically wrong principle, j
This principle is that dub life is an j
extravagance, whereas the right prin
ciple of club life is that It is an econ
omy.
"London is the club < ity of the world.
Why are London's clubs so splendid
and so popular? Because a man can
dine, drink, smoke and amuse himself
in them almost as cheaply as in his
own house far and away more cheap
ly than In a cafe or a hotel.
"Hence In London every man desires
to Join a good club, for a London club
Is an Institution that actually saves Its
members money. Hut here In Amer
ica our clubs are -ondllcted extrava
gantly, and it Is an extravagance to
belong to them. '>nly the very pros
perous American can afford to be a
clubman."— l'hiiadelp'iia Bulletin.
ancient Sport* \mnnu the llfbrfwu.
Pigeons as letter carriers, tradition
tells us. were employed at the time
when Joshua invaded Palestine as me
diuins of communication between head
quarters and camps in lands far off on
the other side of the Jordan. At the
time of the Talmud they were used In
amusing games. The Talmud tells us
that betting was indulged in at the pi
geon play. The owner of the pigeon
which reached first the point designat
ed was the winner.
Another play coi:;i vtod with betting
was the kubya. Kuhya means a small
pot (Arabic kubeia. -mall glass). The
kubya was a little pot wherein dice
were shaken and throw'i upon the ta
ble. The dice were numbered as our
modern ones are. Against these two
games the Talmud was in arms, and
their players wen not allowed to up
.... .>- ; 'iu>sses before the bar.
J J. BROWN
THE EYE A SPECIALTY
'iyes tested, treated, fitted with <lass
* i'i l artificial eyes supplied.
Market Street, Bloomsburg, I'a.
Fours—lo a. in. t" sp. ui.
SKIING til!
A Reliable
TIN SHOP
Tor all kind of Tin Roofing
Spoutlne and Ceneral
Job ''Vcrk.
Stoves, Hearers. Ranges,
Furnaces. «tc
PRICES Tllli I,(WENT!
(Jlll.in Tlili BEST!
JOHN IIIXSO.N
NO. 116 E. FRONT 81,
AN INDIAN'S CI NNINCi
THE BLACKFEETS' STORY OF THE
GREAT WHITE HORSE
Dfirlns? Slrfil«*K> lit Wliicli Thin
1 lithsl ol' All Slccilh Wsim Secured
i <ir II In Or. n Tribe l»> the Smartest
lltief \MI on the t i O%VM.
All Indians who use horses are very
fond of horse racing and not only race
their own horses against one another,
but they race their own against those
of other tribes and used to do this even
in the wild era of the buffalo and of
constant warfare. Even at that time
friendly tribes :ui 1 bauds joined in the
two grand buffalo hunts of each year
an I after the hunting was over pitted
the fastest horses of the various bands
one against the other. At one time not
so very long ago th • Biackfeet had the
very fastest horse that any one knew
of, the fastest horse of which any one
could tell or which any one had seen.
He was a source of wealth to the tribe,
for Indians are ve/y fond of betting,
and this animal always won every
thing that was bet against hint. You
can imagine how p oml the Blaekfeet
were of this creature. You can also
Imagine how envious were the Stoneys,
the Crows, the Sioux, the <'reeks and
all the other Indians of the plains.
Stealing is cous'dered fair between
tribes, and if u can lie successfully
•lone those savage people think it very
honorable, even glorious. The Black
feet, therefore, kept the wonderful
race horse in a tent at night. They did
not dare leave him out with their other
horses. They bought a string of bells
at the Hudson Bay company's nearest
fort, put the bells around the horse's
neck, tied him to a tepee pole inside a
big tepee and set four men to sleep in
the tent with him. This was the rule
every night, and on no night did the
men forget to close th ■ door of the
tepee and "cinch" it tlrrht with 11: >ngs
of buckskin. Whoever c eiVi steal that
big white beauty of a horse had to be a
very clever thief*, ihev thought: but. In
truth, they never dreamed thai he
could be stolen.
The smartest t!;i> niuong the Crow
Indians told hh cif 112 and t 1 head
men that he wa • gaing Jo try to get
that horse away Iro;i the Bla-';feet.
One evening 1" w ed through the
grass to the tall h!u T a'ang the Bow
river (north o r <at ■ I i dio, I think, was
the locality), v h the Blaekfeet had
their camp. He saw the noble horse
led Into a certain tent, and he saw the
four watcher g > in and close the door.
Night fell, and lie crept down the
slanting bhi.f into the camp. The only
Conviction Follows Trial 1
"When buying loose coffee or anything your grocer happens
to have in bin bin, how do you know what you are y
getting ? Some queer stories about coffee that is sold in bulk,
could be told, if the peoplo who handlo it (grocers), cared to
Could any amount of mero talk have persuaded millions of P
housekeepers to use
Lion Coffee,
the leader of all package coffees for over a quarter
of a centurv, if they had not found it superior to all other brands in
Purify, Strength, Flavor and Uniformity?
This popular success o! LION COFFF.E
can be due only to Inherent merit. There
la no atronfler proof ot merit than con
tlnued and Increasing popularity. j
II the verdict ot MILLIONS OF
HOUSEKEEPERS does not convince
you ol the merits ol LION COFFEE, Mfl' ijj'i
It costs you but a trltle to buy a If li/ffKm
package. It Is the easiest way to Ski
convince yourself, and to make I
you a PERMANENT PURCHASER. W • - I
I.ION COFFEE i* sold only In 1 lb. sealed packages, jj& f*-' '*' Vt J 3
and ruchee you as pure and clean an when it left our It" Kjfi Wk' Ml m
Lioii-head on every package. /ii&YKj/j |Uf
Save these Lion-head, for valuable premiums S
SOLD BY GROCERS W
EVERYWHERE r ,
WOOLSON SPICE CO., Toledo, Ohio. & q
—
eesS&k. _
• : I
j Ills Home Paper j
H
of Danville. j
Of course yon read
I :
|
I I 11(111 Ifl i
• IML mbiiil 111] Plh U. ii&
■Ulugjjp'" j j
'! i
>!! i
y i
THE rUOPLE'S i|
POPULAR
I APER.
j j
Everybody Reikis St. !
Published Lvcrv Mor ry; Hxcept
Sunday v.l
i " i
| No. ii E£. M»h ng St.
I |
I
Suhsc! ti< ii * ccr r Week.
i J
:.. '■***-' 3r
thing he had to fear was the barking
of some dog. If a d>g saw or heard
him and bsrke-l. lliat would set all the
other do:, barking, and he would be
obliged to run for his life. Stealthily,
iis only an In lian <• ,n move on his soft
ly mocca ined 112 ibis arch thief of
the thievinv < -o ■. Nation crept into the
Blaekfeet . i lie had to step over
several >-1 oping dogs, and he did not
awaken on-. He came to the tent of
;'ie white Lo lie looked il all over.
He went t > another tepee and took a
travoi from -- de and carried it and
set it up a ii -a the horse's tent.
A travoi . the wheel less wagon the
Indians ie in the summer. It Is made
of tv.o I "u i' >'.es with the upper ends
near 1 her; the lower ends spread [
apart and <::• : upon the ground. You
ee by this (1 -aption Unit If a travois
Is st 1 one:. i it <■ u be made to serve
as a sort of lad 'or. Thus the arch tlilef ,
of the Crow e' the one he put up j
again t the ho. ■ lent. On It he climb- I
od to the lo iof tlie tepee, and from I
there he g a view of the interior, j
looking down between the tent poles j
that 112 iria the sides of the < himney j
hole. He :\v the horse dimly, and
even more • inly he saw the four men j
beside the horse, all asleep. He climb
e | tv in 1h • tent poles; lie poised his i
body very nicely in the chimney open- i
Ing; he dropue 1 fairly and squarely
upon the wh ■ horse's back.
The instant he felt himself oil the
back of the beast his knife, which was j
in his ban , s vet through the cord
that te'l.en 1 the horse. Ilis heels shot j
In against the horse's sides, the bells
rang out sharp an 1 clear, and the horse
snorted with arprise. But the pres
sure of the thief's heels urged the ani
mal forward, and as lie took one step 1
the man r< In 1 out and slit a gash !
straight up and down through the fas- :
toned door, which was only buckskin. :
The I" ir Indians 1 p• ! to their feet,
but the horse and his captor were now
out in th" <; a ground and like the
wind shot away from the camp. The
wat< ers ran and yelled, the dogs
b I.■ I, the whole tribe rushed out of
the • aiis. and every man sprang to
ut what was the use? Theje
was i, horse that could catch the ani
n..'! : so they all turned sadly home
again -r a mad ride of a mile or
t\v • T\ ■ thief rode in triumph home
to the tents of the Crows, and from
thai his tribe owned the great
while horr-v, anil hi ; fame and their
r:< '.es increased. From Julian Ralph's
••Stories Told by Indians" in St. Nicho
las.
The let les-o!| for a good many
pe ip'e «•(■:•! 1 !e 'o ii ten at a keyhole.
It is a pity fo;- such that the practice
Is dishonorable. Swc chine
FIVE MINUTES.
I Hi!#*r Sonir < ii'ciilt Seciaii
a \ «'rj IIUIIK Time.
In :i lntini , trial before a western
court lli** prisouer was able to account
for the w! :<»!«; of his time except live
minutes on the evening when the crime
wns committed. I lis counsel argued j
that it Mas impossible for him to have j
killed the man tinder the circumstances j
in so brief .1 period, and on that plea
largely l»a.-;*d his defense, the other
testimony ! > g strongly against his
client.
Wh 11 the prosecuting attorney re- 1
nihil, h<> said: "How long a time really
is live mine Let 11s see. Will his
honor 1 ... ;ud absolute silence in the
court rvMin i irt'i t space?"
The judgf graciously complied. There
was a < lock 011 the wall. Every eye in
the courtro mw as fixed upon it as the
! pendulum 1 • •!:« .1 off the seconds. There 1
j was a breathless silence,
j We all know how time which is
I walled 112 >: ;>s and halts and at last
| does not -• 111 to move at all.
The l.f witted counsel waited until
the tin .! :n: 1 ieiice gave a sigh of relief
' at ll:e eli. " of the period, and then
asked quietiv:
"Could he nut have struck one fatal
i blov; in all that time?"
The pr r was found guilty, and,
as it was proved afterward, justly.
THE DOG'S COAT.
Brrgli I!, h ■ \ >! Wash It, if Von
Vt :tnl !t I'erfcct.
11l t!i Com:!;-;. C.il nilar Reginald F.
Main .-. wi'iu -: "I. i!t careful feeding
j will 11;. I give a dogs coat that gl-jw
| which i - such a sure sign of health if
I he Is continually washed with soap and
water. Owi e who allow their dogs
! to live in tli ■ bouse are forever waah-
I Ing the wreii !)!.»d animal and forever
complain Hit his coat is coming out.
The oft. lie.- tl:e dog is washed and
!. scrubb I the more will his coat leave
its trail and the deader and duller will
It look. The health and growth of a
dog's coat depend entirely on a natu
ral oil from the skin. As often as the
dog is washed so often is the oil wash
ed out and so much more is the de
struction of the coat. If a dog were
brushed every day for five or ten min
utes against as well as with the grain
his coat would not only have a luster,
but would cease to distribute itself all
over the place ereept for a very short
time once or twice >1 year. Resides
this, brushing has ,1 stimulating ef
fect 011 the whole system, helps the
blood circulation; by this the digestion,
and so the general health."
\ KlLLtkc COUCH 1
I
CUREJHE LJJNCSJ
"™ Or. Kings
New Oiscovery
LR«N /CONSUMPTION price
IFON I OUGHSand 50c & SI.OO
| V'JLDS Free Trial.
HSurest and Quickest Cure for all
1 THROAT and LUNG TROUB-
PtSiSUVli.mil RAILROAD.
! Philadelphia & Krie Railroad Division,
I Northern Central Railway Division.
Schedule in Effect .June It, 1905.
Trains leave SOUTH DANVILLE as follows:
EASTWARD.
| 7 II a in. (weekdays) for Wilkes Harre. Haz
leton and I'ottsville and Philadelphia
10.17 a MI. 1 daily) for Wilkes Harre, Ha/leton
Pottsville. Philadelphia, Mahanoy City
and Shenandoah.
! 2.21 p. 111. 1 weekdays) for Wilkes Barre, Haz
ieton and I'ottsville.
.">..">o p. :n. (weekdays) fur Wilkes-Barre, and
Hazleton.
.Making eonneetion at Wilkes-Harre with
Lehigh Valley for all points North and
South and l>. it H. for .Scranton.
WESTWAUD.
9.00 a. 111. (weekdays) for Sunbury. Leave Sun
bH] 9.42 a. in daily for Lock Haven and
intermediate stations, tin weekdays for
lieliefonte, Tyrone. lieartield Phillips
burg Pittsburg and the West.
Leave Sunbury 9.60 a. 111. i weekdays) for
Harrisburg and intermediate stations. 1
Philadelphia. New York, Haiti more and
Washington.
, 12.10 p. m. weekdays for Sunbury. J
Leave Sunbury 12.48 p. m daily for Buff
alo via Emporium.
Leave Sunbury 1.13 p. ni. weekdays for 1
I'm poriu 111,1 telle font e.Ty rone, Clearfield,
Philipsburg,Pittsburg,Canandaigua and
Intermediate stat ions, Syracuse, Uoches
ter. Buffalo and Niagara Falls.
Leave Sunbury 1.54 p. in. weekdays for
Harrisburg Mid intermediate statiohs.
Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore,
Washington. Bullet Parlor Car to I'liil
adelphia.
Leave Sunbury 3.48 p. in.daily for Mar
rteburg. Philadelphia. New York, Haiti
more and Washington.
1 !1 p. m.daily for Sunbury. I
Leave Sunbury 5.10 p.m. weekdays for '
Keuovo, Elmira and intermediate sta- >
t ions.
Leave Sunbury 5.20 p. m.daily for Har
risburg and Intermediate points. Phila
delphia, New York, Baltimore and
Washington.
7.51 p. 111. weekdays or Sunbury.
Leave Sunbury p. ni. daily for Har
risburg and all intermediaie stations,
Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore.
Washington. Pullman Sleeping Car from
Harrisburg to New York.
Leave Sunbury y.50 p. 111. Sundays only
for Harrisburg and intermediate sta
lions, arriving at Harrisburg. 11.K0.
Leave Sunbury 8.54 p. in. Sundays only
for Williamsport and Intermediate sta
tions.
Leave Sunbury '.>.53 p. in. weekdays for
Wil liamsport and intermediate stations.
Buffet Parlor Car.
SHAMOKIN DIVISION, N C. K. \V.
WEEK HAYS.
Leave Sunbury 0.10 a. in., 10.10 a. m., 2.10 pin.
5.35 p. 111. for StaamoUin and ilt Carniei.
LEW ISTOW N I>l V IBION.
WEEK DA vs.
Leave Sunbury 10.00 a. 111., 2.05 p. 111. for Lew
is? own and Lewistown Junction. 5.35
p. ni. for Seliusgrove.
For time tables and further information ap
ply to ticket agents.
W W. ATTERBURY, L R. WOOD,
<ien'l Manager. Pass. Traffic Mgr.
GEO. W Ho YD, Gen'l Passenger Agent.
LACKAWANNA RAILROAD.
—BLOOMSBCRO DIVISIUb
Delaware, Lackawanna and Weatren
Railroad.
|ln Effect Jan. 1, 1905.
TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE.
EASTWARD.
7 07 a in. ilailv for Blooinsburg, Kingston,
Wilkes-llarre and Scranton. Arriving Soran
toti at 12 a 111. and connecting at Scranton
with trains arriving at I'liiladelphia at 8.48 a
111 anil New York City ai 8.30 p. ill.
to i!' a. in. weekly forßloomsbarg.Kingston,
W'ilke-- Harre. s. fanton and iuterinediate sta
tions, arriving at Seranton at 12.55 p m.and
connecting there with train- for New ork
fit v. Philadelphia and Buffalo.
2 11 weeki v forßloomsburg,Kingston,Wilkes
Harre. Scranton and Intermediate stations,
arriving at Seranton at 4 50 p. on.
s.t.'i p. in daily for ItlooinHburg, Kspy. Ply
mouth. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre, i'ittston,
Seranton and iiitcrniediate stations, arriving
at Scranton at 5.25 p m.and connecting tbere
with trains arri% ing at New N ork City at •' MI
a ill Philacipeia 10 a. in and Buffalo 7a. in.
TRAINS ARRIVE AT DANVILLE.
0.15 a m weekly from Scranton. I'ittston,
Kingston, Bloonisburg and intermediate sta
tions, lea\ ing Scranton at a m., where it
connects with trains leaving New Yor« City
at !•.:«> pin , Philadelphia at 7.02 p.m. and ■
Buffalo at 10.80 a. ni.
I2.tt pin. daily trom Scranton, I'ittston,
Kingston, Berwick. Bloonisburg and interme
diate stations, leaving Seranton at 10.10 a. in.
and connecting there witli train leaving Buff
alo at2.*s a. m.
l :t-i p. m, weekly from Seranton, Kingston,
Berwick, Bloonisburg and intermediate sta
tions, leaving Seranton at 1.55 p. m., where it
connects with train leaving New York City
at 1 (Hi a. in., and Philadelphia at 9.00 a. in.
on.", p. in.daily from Scranton. Kingston.
I'ittston. Berwick. Bloonisburg and interme
diate stations, leaving Scranton at 0.85 p. 111 ,
where it connects with trains leaving New
York City at 1.00 p.m., Philadelphia at 12.00
p. in.and Buffolo at 9.30 a. m.
T. E CLAHKE. (ien'l Sup't.
T. W. LKE. Gen. Pass. gt.
MB I
111?...
Wb warn io io all
Ms of Printing
fl i.
ll'
ll'S 111.
1 11 i PitK.
ii ii's fin*.
!Ff
A. well printed
tasty, Bill or Le'
W / ter Head, Post *
A/A Ticket, Circulai
Program,
nient or Card <
(V ) an advertisemen'
for your business,a
satisfaction to you
lei Type,
lei Presses, ~
Best Paper, Mc
SHIM M, A
Promptness
-111 you can ask.
A trial will make
you our customer.
We respectfully ask
that trial.
No. II 112:. Mnhoninjc St..