After Fifteen Yeßk.rs By VIRGINIA LEILA WENTZ Copyright, 1905. by I. I>. Marshall For almost a twelvemonth now Mr. Fawcett had bought his daily morning paper of a certain little newsgirl be neath the steps of his L station. "Little Timber Toes" was the nickname the boys had given her. She was a cripple and carried a crutch. "I've missed you, sir. Indeed, you stayed away so long I began to think you weren't coming back at all." "Lit tle Timber Toes" laughed at her owu falsehood, showing all her fine, Infan tile teeth at once. Mr. Fawcett had spent Sunday with some of his New Jersey relatives, and this was the greet ing he received from under the L stairs on Tuesday morning. "So you missed me, did you?" It was good to be missed, and it warmed the cockles of this old bachelor's dry heart. "Well, I hail a uice time in the country, little one," said he. "Ah," said the child, leaning slightly forward on her crutch, "it must be like fairyland In the country. Mother used to live In the country, ami she's told me all about it. And did you go in the woods the deep woods? They must smell so fresh and cool and delicious. And then the shade!" She had a long vista of thoughts in her eyes an entire forest. She was to all appearances a pretty child of twelve, with delicate features and a mass of brown hair. Just now some rays of sunlight slant ing upon her head from the platform above made it sparkle like gold. "Do you know," she went on, seeing that her customer was in no especial hurry to catch his train, "I often pic ture the woods to myself—trees grow ing up by themselves without being planted, squirrels running over the boughs, birds singing in the branches. Oh, it must be wonderful!" "How would you like togo with me some Sunday to see the woods?" asked the man. "They are all around the city here, to be seen for the mere riding to them in the cars." "Oh. I should love it!" The big dark eyes looked disproportionately large In the pale, tiny face. "And I think mother will be sure to let me," added she gravely. "You see, I've told her about you so many times." Somehow the whole of July slipped by and "Little Timber Toes" did not get to see her dear woods nor the ■squirrels nor the birds. To be sure, there was no immediate hurry about it. There was always the facile ex cuse. "Next week, perhaps—or week after next." However, there came a morning when as Mr. Fawcett stopped to hand over his coin and take back a paper he found "Little Timber Toes'" place was vacant. Evidently she was late today. On his way home he would stop again. The place was still unoccupied In the evening; also the following morning. A policeman on the corner, being consulted, thought the child might be ill and gave Mr. Fawcett the address where she was supposed to live. "Of course she's ill," mused the man as he set out to find her late that aft ernoon. "Her little face has been un commonly white of late and her eyes uncommonly big. - ' On his way up the narrow stairs in the miserable tenement in which the child lived a buxom woman passed him. It turned out to be the Janitress. "Yes, she's up there all alone, poor little kid. I've just been a takin' her some gruel. Holy saints, hut it's hot up in that attic'." She mopped her brow in confirmation of the statement. Th»> door of the little attic room was open, but to the man standing there quietly in the hallway It all seemed quite dark. The shutters were bowed tight, tiut the August sun threw tiny shafts of light through the slats. As his eyes became use<l to the half light he saw "Little Timber Toes" sitting close against the wall, where she had been driven by the advancing heat from the window. For coolness she had piled her hair on top of her head. It gave a certain air of distinction. Her exquisite, small face, her shapely little head resting against the dingy wail here in this poverty reduced room, bad the antique perfection and grace of an old cameo in a defaced and scratched setting. He waited for her to move, to look up He imagined she would hear him breathe, the room was so still, but ho bad to knock twice before she seemed able to disconnect herself from her list less reverie. Then— "Oh, oh! I—l was wishing you might come!" She reached out her hand for his and held It tight. "I>o you know," stroking the hand she clasped with her free one as if to make sure her words would not hurt him, "I kind of thought you'd come, even if you did forget your promise about the dear woods." She smiled, one of her gay, volatile, capricious smiles. And by that he saw that she was better. His conscience smote him somewhat. He changed the subject abruptly. "How's mother?" he asked. "Pretty well, thanks. She's In the tailor trade now." "The tailor trade, Is she? Then shirts didn't pay?" "Not so well as trousers. It's the buttonholes, you see." The child was profound In her practical wisdom. Fifteen minutes later, as Mr. Faw eett was opening the shutters to let In the evening nlr. a slightly built woman came slowly tip the attic stairs. She WHS very tired, but for the sake of the child she bravely summoned a gay smile, putting her face on dross pa rade. as It were. For a second, seeing that there was a stranger in the room, she stood uncertainly in the doorway; then she went toward him. "I think, sir," she said, with a certain quiet dignity—"l think you must be the geutlemuu who's been so kind to"— "Kitty!" cried the man, taking an un conscious step toward her. Then they stood and stared into each other's won dering eyes. She, worn with work and worry, was the tirst to lose control. She dropped into a chair presently and began to cry softly. He, for his part, paced the room in dazed fashion, lie recalled "Little Timber Toes'" innocent disclo sures. Father was dead. She thought •he was glad. He wasn't fond of chil dren, and he sometimes used to strike dear mother. Why, he had figuratively shrugged careless shoulders at the commonplace skeletou laid bare by the child. But now? He turned hot eyes and looked at the pretty, fragile, sobbing creature —Kitty, his Kitty, as he had been used to call her, the beautiful, dainty girl who had flushed under his first kiss! Something in his throat swelled big. He stood still before the attic window, doing battle with It. In the place of chimneys and lightning rods, tiles and alates, came greeu ticliU and woods. 'l nere was a little vine covered cottage, too, and out of the cottage eaine a girl as fresh and sweet as the morning. A youth leaned over the gate saying good by. for he was going oIT to win fortune for theui both. Then he departed, with her moist kiss upon his lips, while the golden morning shone hopefully on the woods and meadows. And, oh, the long misery <>f that subsequent misun derstanding! Later news had reached him that she was married to an old ri val; after that, no news at all. James Fawcett went near to the weeping little woman and laid his band upon her arm. "Kitty," he said again, "it's years since we saw each other." "Fifteen," said she struggling to 1)3 calm and smiling through her tears. "That's a long tijne, James, and time brings many changes." "Does it ? I don't see them, dear. To me you're just the same." { At his words the woman flushed—as pretty a wild rose flush as any maiden ' might claim. lie drew up a chair for himself and placed it hear her. Then j he set about bringing up old tales that made her cheerful and gave the dim ples play What a dance those same | dimples ased to lead the boys, Billy and Ben and the rest—did she remem i ber? And did she recall the wooden ! schoolliouseV There was a brand new ! brick one now. The old farmhouse | was down, too. and on its site was a gorgeous brick villa. Tims, though all the while hunger i was gnawing at his heart, he talked j cheerily 011 and on. Presently he ; arose. He could bear it no longer. She was such a sorrow laden, pale, fragile, dear little thing to fight all alone against the world. He opened his arms wide. ! "Will you come now, Kitty? It's not too late." I When she laid her hands on his broftd shoulders and said tremulously, "I'm so tired, dear—so tired!" lie put his strong arms about her and fondled her caressingly, just as he might have fondled the child by the wall or any other helpless thing. "Little Timber Toes" all the while looked on and smil ed. "And when we goto the woods," she asked presently, "we'll take dear moth er along too?" "Well, rather!" answered the man in a queer, hoarse tone as he drew the woman in his arms still closer. Fidelity and Affection of n Hume. In the "Memoirs of General Count de Segnr," an aid-decamp of Napo leon. the following affecting incident is related: "During the nocturnal attack of the Ukra. on Dec. 23, I was unhorsed. My animal had been wounded by a bullet In his chest, from which the Mood was streaming, and as he could no longer carry me I had been forced to leave him, loading his equipment on my shoulders. When I had reached our first outpost, about 300 paces off. I sat down to rest before the fire, in some grief at the loss of my mount, when a plaintive sound and an unexpected contact caused me to turn my head. It was the poor beast, which had re vived and had dragged Itself in the wake of my footsteps. In spite of the distance and the darkness, it had suc ceeded in finding me and, recognizing me by the light of the campfire. had come up groaning to lay its head on my shoulder. My eyes filled with tears at this last proof of attachment, and I was gently stroking it when, ex hausted from the blood it had lost and its efforts to follow me, in the midst of the men, who were as surprised and touched as myself, it fell down, struggled for a moment and expired." Aii Arctic Dok. It is said of Dr. John Brown, the gen ial and much loved author of "Rab and His Friends," that be was personally acquainted with every dog in Edin burgh. Once while out driving he stop ped in the middle of a sentence and looked out eagerly at the back of the Carriage. "Is it some one you know?" asked the friend who was with him. "No," he replied. "It's a dog I don't know." . An old resident of Edinburgh tells this story: A dog had recently been brought to the city from Iceland and for a long time apparently suffered from all the pangs of homesickness. Dr. Brown became much interested in the animal and tried frequently to comfort it. At last one day he came to the house of his friend. Dr. Feddie, with a smiling face and said: "That dog is all right now. He went out last night and saw the pole star, and that has made him feel quite at home here." BEQUESTS OF HEARTS. The Dylnic W'l»h of Brace and the F«t# <>f Uouiclnn. Bequests of hearts have been by no means uncommon. Richard Coeur de Lion bequeathed his heart to the can ons of Rouen cathedral, and In July, 1838, this remarkable relic was once again brought to light after the lapso of six centuries. The heart, which la said to have been surprisingly large, was inclosed In boxes of lead and sil ver and withered, as it was described, to the semblance of a faded leaf. Bruce's heart was by hts dying wish Intrusted to I>ouglas to fulfill a vow which he bad been unable to execute In person of visiting the sepulcher of Christ. T>ouglas, "tender and true," promised to fulfill his sovereign's last request and after Bruce's death, hav ing received the heart Incased In a cas ket of gold, set forth upon his mission. Proceeding to Spain, however, he foil In the thick of a fight with the Moors, havlnx previous to his final charge cast the heart of Bruce from his breast, when he carried It Into the ranks of the Infidels, crying, "Onward as thou wert wonf; Douglas will follow thee!" Bruce's heart was afterward recovered by Sir Simon Lockhart, by whom It was brought to Scotland and buried along with the bones of Douglas In the abbey of Melrose. When the remains of Bruce were disinterred at Dunferm line In is in the breastbone was found sawed through so as to permit of the removal of the heart. I" I* I art y Tien. "I didn't ki ow young Snohlierly real ly took any interest in politics." "Nonsense! He doesn't." "But I Just heard him talUirg for the past tea minutes about 'party ties.' " "Oh, he means white lawn bows."— Philadelphia I'ress. A wfii I. Isn't it awful when a woman keeps fixing her back hair at the theater and then when the performance is over finds that she has left her diamond ring on the dresser at home!-Cleve land Leader. .Foil nII le*» i hoflce. Barber—How do you want the little fellow's hair cut, Mr. Balder? Johnnie Balder--1 want mine cut like papa's, with a hole on top —Yorkshire Post cj«o*o*o*o*o*oo*o«o*o*o*o*c I From Heaven o c • • o By RUTH MORRIS C o ===== c • • O t'opj right, 1906, by K. A. Whitehead C • • o*o*o*o*o«o*oo«o*o*o*o*o*c "An angel from heaven?" repeated Jack Elder. "Well, mother, I guess when an angel from heaven drops down this way I'll think of getting married. I'ntil then I am very well content as I am." He snatched up his hat and, whis tling to his dog, strode across the fields while his mother stood iu the doorway and watched him until the woods swal lowed him up. Then she turned with a sigh and en tered the house. An inveterate match maker, It was oue of the sorrows of Mrs, Elder's life that her handsome young sou had withstood tile persua sions of all the girls of his acquaint ance. lie had even assisted her In the plans whereby she deputized for Cu pid, but, perhaps, it was this familiar ity with her methods which enabled him to escape so easily from the snares she set for him. Had he shown an interest In any one she would have felt some hope, but not oue of the girls she knew had been able to arouse other than his friendly interest, and she was In despair. Had she seen his face as he strode through the brush she would have been surprised, for It was white and drawn and his teeth were clenched. It was hard for him to face his moth er's persuasions with a jest when all the while his whole soul was bound up in a woman to whom he could not offer his love. It happened on one of his trips to the shore. He hail formed one of a yacht ing party, and there he had met Clara Ripley. For a time it had seemed to him that there was the woman for whom he had been destined, and through the long summer evenings he had sat by her side and wondered how It was that to some men It was per mitted to have a foretaste of heaven. Then Tom Itipiey had joined the par ty, and for the first time ho had learn ed that she was married. The blow had been too much for him, and, feign ing illness, lie had left the yacht and come home heartbroken. That had been a year ago, but the wound was still fresh, and on those long strolls through the woods he could still feel her presence, could smell the salt air above the fragrance of the pines. And his mother had declared that he was a confirmed bachelor who would not marry an angel from heaven were she suddenly to appear and make declaration of her love. He thought bitterly of his mother's hopes, and tears dimmed his eyes as he realized how Impossible it was to grant her her heart's desire. He made his way down to the lake where there was a little clearing. He loved to lie on the soft grass and look up at the white clouds traversing the summer sky, while he pictured to him self how different life would be with Clara by his side to face the world. So full of liis thoughts was he that he did not notice his dog's agitation until with a sharp bark he dashed to ward the water's edge. With a cry he sprang to his feet. Over the surface of the water came bounding a huge hulk from which de pended a swaying mass of black and white. Now It struck the water; now It rose in the air only to fall back again like some wounded bird. In a dash Jack remembered that there was to have been a balloon as cension across the lake that afternoon, and he knew that this must be It. though he was at a loss to understand why a feminine figure should be cling ing to the ropes. Just as he neared the shore the car dipped again, and as it rose a rope brushed past Jack's shoulder. In stinctively he grasped It, and with a wrench that very nearly tore his hold loose he was jerked Into the air. For a moment he clung, dizzy with excite ment and the shock, and then with a rending sound the balloon swept down ward, and Elder was dragged through the branches of the trees, the twigs cutting his face and hands, though they did not loosen their grip upon the rope. There was another upward bound, and as they rose Jack, regaining his wits, began to climb the rope, drawing himself up hand over hand as they rose in the air. He had almost reached the car when they struck the trees again, and now he had to endure the weight of the car as it crushed him against the branches and left him well nigh breathless. Still he clung to the rope with grim persistence, and as the car rose once more clutched the wicker work of the edge and felt a hand tinder his shoulder assisting him over the side. For a moment he lay breathless while the balloon made another dive, and then with a start he realized that his companion was Clara Itipley. One glance into her face as she bent anxiously over him assured him of her love, and the knowledge of this fact stimulated his faculties. The balloon was diving again, but at each rise the recovery was less buoyant, and now they scarcely cleared the tops of the trees. Ji>«« beyond was the clearing, and as they sank the balloon with a lurch settled to earth, covering them beneath Its huge bulk. In some way the valve rope had become entangled with Jack's arm as he fell into the car, and the gas was rushing out of the neck of the tube and adding to their discomfort. WVrh a desperate energy, he worked his way over the side of the car, drag glng his companion after him. Just as It seemed 1., nr • i.p, a puff of fresh i i strils, and with one I: , i rl i; ■ dragged Oara from bine 'ii infolding cloth. Whe.i coo: i. iii's- came again she was chatin iii-s tnd in hers while the tears st,-e.:: | »wn her face. As he opened hi* ~e lie gave a little cry and. It'.miii., forward lightly, brushed his cheek. "1 was afraid." she snid, a tremulous catch in her voice, "that you had In haled too much gas. I I was al»out to leave you to seek assistance." "I am all right now," he answered feebly. Then, after a minute, "How did you happen to l>e in that car?" "There were three of us," she an swered "Tom. the professor and my self. I had a. lys longed to take a balloon trip, an I this seemed such a splendid chance. "The profess r was just helping Tom Into the car when somehow the rope parted, and I was carried up alone. Then the gas 1.. gnu to give out, and I thought I should fall into the lake. Hut it's all right now, isn't it?" "Yes," he answered, with a wni smile. "We'll telegraph Mr. Itipley ana send you home in the morning. Out '• »uie Is Just beyond here, apd wy mother will be most happy towel come you." I "You «11<1 not goto the shore this summer," she said quickly. "No," he answered, "I could uot go with the memory—of Inst year." "Was It so unpleasant, then 7" she asked gently. "Mr. Elder, I've always wondered why you left us so suddenly. Could it l>e that anything I said gave offense?" Her face burned red ut she asked the question, but she met his gaze unflinch ingly. i "No," was the quiet answer, "it was nothing—that you said. Somehow, I gained an idea that you were Tom Rip ley's sister and that he was bringing his wife aboard with him. When wo landed to take him on, George Homers told me that Mrs. Itlpley was already on board and that Tom was with his sister." She broke into a merry peal of laugh ter. "That was my sister Grace," she explained. "Tom's wife came aboard while you were at the postotiice." "Then you are his sister, after all?" he cried, suddenly sitting up. "And that was your reason?" she asked softly. The question was com monplace, but the mau read all he wanted to know in the tone In which it was asked. Mrs. Elder, watching the sun set across the fields, saw them coming to ward her. "Mother," cried Jack Jubilantly, "this is the angel direct from heaven, and we are going to be married Just as soon as we can arrange matters." Punlfililns n l'runil Maiuc Judgt. In the <mrly days of Augusta, Me., when the people rode about the country on horseback, a certain aristocratic Judge, riding into town one day on his smart horse, was overtaken by a neigh bor, a poorly dressed Irishman, riding a rather rough looking animal. In the outskirts of the city the two Jogged along side by side, discussing the topics of the day, but as they near ed the town the proud Judge, thinking it beneath his dignity to be seen In company with l'atrick, requested the Irishman to fall back a little. The quick witted son of Erin, grasp ing the situation, fell back a few paces and awaited his opportunity for re venge. As they were entering the principal street the Irishman called out from be hind: "Jedge , am I fur enough be hind yer honor?" The discomfited Judge, sitting very erect, paid no heed to the Irishman. A little further on l'atrick again call ed out, to the intense amusement of the bystanders, "Jedge , am I far enough behind yer honor now, sir?" So, all along the way, l'atrick pun ished the proud Judge.- Boston Herald. A Smart Man. "Fourteen cents for each of these," he salti, handing the saleswoman two cravats he had selected. "That's 28; 18 for this and 14 for this. That's just 50 cents in all." And lie placed a half dollar on the counter. '1 lie girl took the cravats lie had se lected, entered the purchase on a slip, which sin: looted up at ."> > cents, und sent them away. Soon they came buck wrapped ready for the purchaser. lie took tiiem, but did not K" away. "I knew I could do it."he said. "Just count it up again three for 14 cents each and one for IS." The girl counted and found the total was 00 cents Instead of 50. Then he wanted to give her 10 cents more and go off with the goods, but it took more than 10 cents' worth of iiis tine us well us of everybody else's concerned before the mutter e »uld be straightened out. "The lesion \\;is quite as expensive fur me as fur you." lie said to the when he tianlly left with his eruvaU.— Philadelphia Ki^-ord. \ i.lfe of I*ll NMI Oil. In I.orl Fyrvn's letters he tells how he onc< iiad a visit from "a Mr. < 'ool- Idge of i:>;i. .1 very pretty lad, only somewhat too full of |>oetiy and 'en tusymusy.' " Byron says:"l was very civil to him during I.is few hours' stay and talked with him much of Irving, who " writings are 11:;. delight. But I suspect he did not t ike quite so much to uie, from Ids li ving expected to ine<»t a 111lsanthrople.il gentleman in wolfskin hree<hes and answering In fierce monosyllables instead of a man of thLs world. I can never get people to understand that poetry is the ex pres lon of •■xclteil passion and that there is r..-> rii<h thing as a lift? of pas sion uty more than a continuous earth quake or mi eternal fever. Besides, who woti'd ever shave themselves in such a state V" Slrfp ttna neain. Au animal deprived of sleep dies more quickly than from hunger. One of the cruekst of Chinese punishments is to kill a man by preventing sleep, he dying Insane about the fourteenth day. All animals sleer for some period of the twenty-four hours. How and when they do so depend upon their natural habits. But tlicy all have this In common that after any unusual ex ertion they sleep 1 mger. London Mail. Thr Hn»:xrc! of (lit* A.—Where are you off to? 15.—1 nrn going to iu lv Mr K —, the wealthy banker, for the hand of one of his daughters. A. In*';' 1! Which of them? R.—l don't know yet. If he it! lu a good humor, I will take the youn gest; If in a bad humor, the eldest.— I.ustlge Blatter. J J. BROWN THE EYE A SPECIALTY Eyes tested, treated, fitted with <lass % fid artificial eyes supplied. Market Street, Blooinsburg, I'a. Hours—lo a. in.to sp. in. US EI! A. Rellabl© TOf SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne and Ceneral Joh Work. Stoves, Heaters, Ran*#®, Furnaces, stc. PRICES TIIK LOW KST! QUALITY Tllli MOT! JOHN HIXSON NO. 116 E. FRONT BT. A COST I.V DROP CURTAIN. The OIK* KIELKNOII Ier Didn't I'alnt ' For n Freneli Theater. The eute;!/; rising manager of a the ater ti'iMi i :pou the famous French p.rl'-.'. .If Louis Ernest McHSonier, on one occasion, says Mr. Robert Kempt in I'encil and I'alette, and ask ed him to paint a drop scene for a certain theater and name bis own terms. "You have seen my pictures, then?" nsked Meissonier. "Oh, yes," exclaimed the munuger, "but it is your name I want! It will draw cr >wds to my thcuter." ."And how large do you wish this j curtain to be?" Inquired the artist. "Ah, well, we will say 15 by IS me ters!" Meissonier took up a pencil and pro ceeded to make a calculation. At last he looked up and said with imperturb able gravity: "I have calculated and flud that my pictures are valued at 80,(XX) francs per meter. Your curtain, therefore, will cost you just 21,ti00,000 francs. But that is nit all. It takes me twelve months to paint twenty-live centime ters of canvas. It will therefore take ] me just I'JO years to finish your cur- j tain. You should have come to me earlier, monsieur. I am too old for - the undertaking now. (.rood morning." CONQUESTS OF SILENCE. Washington never made a speech. In the zenith of his fame he once at tempted it, failed and gave it up, con fused and Abashed. In framing the constitution of the United States the labor was almost wholly performed In committee of the whole, of which ; George Washington was day after day chairman, and he made but t«vo speech es during the convention, of a very few words each. The convention, how ever, acknowledged the muster spirit, and historians affirm that had it uot been for his personal popularity and the thirty words of his speech, pro nouncing It the best that could be unit- , ed upon, the constitution would have been rejected by the people. Thomas Jeft'er-uni never made o speech. He couldn't do it. Napoleon, whose executive ability is almost without a parallel, said that his difficulty was in finding men of deeds rather than words. When asked how he maintained his influence over his superiors in age and experience when command);- in chief of un army in Italy he said, "By reserve." The greatness of a man is not measured by j the length of his speeches and their number. 112 Facts Are Stubborn Things Uniform excellent quality for OVCT a quarter of a Century lias steadily increased the sales of LION COFFEE, The leader of all package coffees. Lion Coffee ... is noTv used in millions of homes. Such popular success speaks for itself. It is a JR\ positive proof that LION COFFEE has the Confidence of the people. Tlie uniform quality of LION 112 M COFFEE survives all opposition. ■ tjffW LION COFFEE keeps It* old friend* and fji fl makes new ones every day. Wyflf ffcffivjMM LION COFFEE has even more than Its Strength, Flavor and Qual ity to commend It. On arrival Irom 'jT/I the plantation. It is carefully roast- r - jdr ftf I ed at our factories and securely I packed in 1 lb. sealed packages, and not opened again until needed a for use in the home. This precludes the possibility of adulteration or contact with germs, dirt. I dust, insects or unclean hands. The absolute purity of I LION COFFEE Is thereiore guaranteed to the consumer. Sold only in 1 lb. packages. Lion-head on every package. Suva these Lion-heads for valuable premiums. SOLD BY GROCERS EVERYWHERE J m . The Home Paper | of Danville. Of course you read 11 ■ n,, \\ jf j THE fVEOF'-E'S jl <J POPULAR F 1 APER. Everybody Reads it. i Published llverv Mommy. Except Sunday " i No. ii E. Ma ho >■ ng St.i Subscription o cent •> Week. HAWAIIAN SERVANTS. A Story Which liluNtratet) One of Tlieir Peculiarities. "Hawaiian servants," said a brown Woman, "are the best—the best in the world, but the\ are strangely unso phisticated, -trangcly naive. ••Hawaiian servants insist on calling you l>,\ your first name. Ours were al ways saying to my husband, 'Yes, John,' or 'Ail right. John,' and to me, 'Very well, Ann,' or 'Ann, I am going out.' "At last I got tired of this, and to John, when we pot a new cook, I said: " 'Hon't ever call me by my first name in this new cook's presence, Then, perhaps, not knowing my name, he'll have to say "Mrs." to me.' "So John was very careful always to addivs> ine as 'liearie' or 'Sweetheart, 1 but the new cook, a watchful chap, gave me no title at all. "One day we had some company, some English otlicers. I told them how I had overcome, in my new cook's cas ■, the native servants' horrid abuse of their employers' Christian numes, and I said. 'By this servant, at least, you won't hear me called Ann.' "Just then the new cook entered the room. He bowed to me respectfully and said: " 'Sweetheart, dinner is served.' "'What?' I stammered. "'l>inner is served, dearie,' answer ed the new cook." —New York Herald. MARINE LEAPERS. Tiie In nil I* I tie Most C race fill of the Jumper* of the Sea. Many of the inhabitants of the sea are good jumpers and some have be come famous. Among them should be mentioned the tarpon or silver king, a huge tisli with scales that gleam like silver, which constitutes the famous game li-h of Florida. The leaps of this beautiful creature are often astonish ing. Several years ago a steamer was r: down the St. Johns river. The caj> iin was sitting on the fore deck, 1< "Kiig against the pilot house, when in di nly there rose in the air a beauti ful 'lining lisli four feet in length. It <• is.' on like an arrow and landed in the Ip of the captain as neatly as thoi'gh it had been placed there. In the Pacific waters the tuna, an ally of the horse mackerel, Is noted for its leaps. Sometimes a school sweep ■ up the coast and the powerful fish, often weighing 800 pounds, are seen in the air in every direction. They are like an arrow, turn gracefully five or six feet in the air and come down, keeping the water for acres In a foam, and if not the greatest jumpers they are certainly the most graceful of the leapers of the sea. THE HIGH CLASS KOREAN. ll#»lriK H DRJIMINN UOOIII <■♦*!»T lcmiiri, ll«» IN :I SI <«» f)re NK. Tbo Korean is aliovo every tiling ds» a man ol tin* drawing room, an<l all liis instincts move along the leisurely ways of liie. Anything like baste 01 "en i»rt*sst'i;i' nt" is unknowu to the eternal laws that govern him. This characteristic ol' his is evident in all his actions at all times and under ail couceivabie circumstances. Being a drawing ID *III gentleman, dress to the great ambition of hi* life, From the shoes of l'is feet"to the topknot on the top of bis head lie is ordered so as to be seen and admired of men. ilis slio while in mourning must be spotie <i> v. bite. No atom of dust or fly speck siiail mar them. His socks, beam if ui y isuded, are stitched to per fection: In- pantaloons, big enough for a Ur.-inl.iignag, are padded, quilted ami iroiK il HI: 111 th y come forth look ing like • iir.e icyst« rious fabric of pol ished mar bit; his jacket likewise and his overt >a and wristlets. •Not on.y lias lie a headband, a top knot and a hat on bis head, but be buys a pair of spectacles and adds tliem to bis already overcharged head gear, am! tin:; rigged, with a ring OIJ his finger and a fan in his hand, lit gix-s forth i » make his way through this troubled world. North China Her ald. T!i?» First CurronoilM. The <: riie i tuentloii of the use of carronaJes iu actual warfare which 1 have met with is contained in the Ellin burgh Advertiser for April 13, 1771), where accoi -i ; are g - i-u of uu action fought Ma. ii 17, 117;), in St. George's channel, near the Tuskar rock, between the British privateer Sharp and the American privateer Skyrocket. The former w armed with carronades, "short g IMS of a new construction, made at Canon." One of these ac counts is from Captain Mac Arthur, nn Englishman, who was at the time a ' prisoner on board the Skyrocket and was in a position to speak, of the dam age sustained by that ship. On April 19, in the same year, u spirited action was fought In the chan nel between the Spitfire, a British pri vateer armed with sixteen elghteen pounder carronades, commanded by Captain Thomas Bell and owned by John Zulller and others, and the Sur veillante, a French frigate of thirty two guns and a large crew. The Spit fire was taken after an obstinate fight, i-the Surveillante sustaining considera ble damage.—Notes and Queries. KILLTHE COUCH ' '" CURE THE LUNCS W,IH Dr. King's New Discovery rnn /CONSUMPTION Price FUR I OUGHSand 50c & SI.OO Free Trial. Surest and Quickest Cure for all THROAT and LUNG TROUB LES, or MONEY BACK. PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD. Philadelphia & Krie Railroad IMvisinn, Northern Central Railway Division. Schedule in Kfleet Nov. ISHVj. Trains leave SOUTH DAN V11.1,K as follows; EASTWARD. 7 11 a m. weekdays) for Wilkes Barre. llaz leton and Pottsville and Philadelphia 10.17 a. in. idailyi for Wilkes Harre, Ha/ieton Pottsville. Philadelphia, Mahaiioy City and Shenandoah. 2.21 p. m. (weekdays) for Wilkes-Barre, Haz leton and Pottsville. o.uO p. in. (weekdays) for Wilkes-Barre, and llazleton. Making; connection at Wilkes-Barre with Lehigh Valley for all points North and South and I>. & H. forScranton. WESTWARD. H.OOa. in. (weekdays) for Sun bury. Leave Sun -1 >nrv 9.40 a. ni. daily for Lock Haven and intermediate stations. On weekdays for Pellefonte, Tyrone, Clearfield Pliillips burg, Pittsburg and the West. Leave Sunbury 0.60 a. m. (weekdays) for Harrislmrsr and intermediate stations. Philadelphia, New York, lialtimore and Washington. 12.10 p. in. weekdays for Sunbury. Leave Sunbury 12.48 p. in daily for Buff alo via Kmporlum and for Krie and in termedlate stations. Leave Sunbury 1.13 p. ni. weekdays for Kmporiu in, liellefonte.Ty rone. Clear field, Philipsburg, Pittsburg,Canaiidaigua and intermediate stations, Syracuse, Koch es ter. liu Halo and Niagara Falls. Leave Sunbury 1.54 p. in. weekdays for Harrisburg and intermediate stations. Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore. Washington. Buffet Parlor Car to Phil adelphia. Leave Sunbury 3.48 p. ni. daily for Har risburg, Philadelphia. New York, Balti more and Washington. 4.31 p. ni. daily for Sunbury. Leave Sunbury 5.20 p. in. weekdays for Kenovo, Watkins and intermediate sta tions. Leave Sunbury 5.10 p. m.daily for Har risburg and intermediate points. Phila delphia, New York, Baltimore and Washington. 7.51 p. no. weekdays for Sunbury. Leave Sunbury 8.36 p.m. daily for Har risburg and all intermediate stations, Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore. Washington. Pullman Sleeping Car from Harrisburg to New York. Leave Sunbury 0.53 p. m. Sundays only for Harrisburg and intermediate sta tions, arriving at Harrisburg. 11.30. Leave Sunbury 8.64 p. m. Sundays only for Willlaiusport and intermediate sta tions. Leave Sunbury 0.53 p.m. weekdays for Williamsport and intermediate stations Buffet Parlor Car. SUAMOKIN DIVISION, N.C. K. W. WEEK DAYS. Leave Sunbury 6.10 a. in., 10.10 a. ni., 2.111 p. in. 5.35 p. m.for Shamokin and Mt Carmel. LKWISTOW.V DIVISION. WEEK DAYS. Leave Sunbury 10.00 a. m., 2.05 p. m.for Lew istown and Lewistown Junction. 530 p. in.for Selinsgrove. For time tables and further information ap ply to ticket agents. W. W. ATTKKBURY, J K. WOOD, (ien'l Manager. Pass. Traffic Mgr. OEO. W. BOYD, Gen'lPassenger Agent. LACKAWANNA RAILROAD BLOOMSBURG DIVISION Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad. lln Effect Jan. 1, 1905. TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE. EASTWARD. TOT a. ill. daily tor Bloomsburg, Kingston, Wilkes-Itarre a,.d Scranton. Arriving Scran ton at !M2 a. in., and connecting at Scranton with trains arriving at Philadelphia at 8.48 a. ni. and New York City at 3.30 p. in. to.ltt a. ni. weekly for Bloomsburg. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre.Scranton and intermediate sta tions, arriving at Scranton at 12.35 p. HQ and connecting thore with trains for Ni w York City, Philadelphia and Buffalo. 2.11 weekly for Bloomsburg,Kingston, W ilkes Barre, Scrauton and intermediate stations, arriving at Scranton at 4.50 p . n>. 5.43 p. in daily for Bloomsburg, Kspy. Ply mouth, Kingston, Vllko-Btnc, Pittston, Scranton anil intermediate stations, arriving at Scranton at p. in.and connecting there with trains arriving at New York City at 0 50 a in., Pliiladelpeia 10 a. m.and Buffalo 7a. in. TRAINS ARRIVE AT DANVILLE. 0.15 a in weekly from Scranton. Pittston, Kingston, Bloomsburg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Scranton at 6.35 a. in., where It connects with trains leaving New York City at 0.30 p. in , Philadelphia at 7.02 p. in.and Buffalo at lO.SO a. m. 12.44 pin daily from Scranton, Piitston, Kingston, Berwick, Bloomsburg and interme diate stations, leaving Scranton at 10.10 a.m. and connecting there with train leaving Buff alo at 2.75 a. m. 4.33 p. m. weekly from Scranton. Kingston, Berwick, Bloomsnurg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Scranton at 1 55 p m , where it connects with train leaving New York City at ln.«o a. in., and Philadelphia at 0.00 a. in. 0.05 p. in daily from Scranton. Kingston. Piitston. Berwick. Bloomsburg and interme diate stations, leaving Scranton at 6.35 p. m., where it connects with trains leaving New York City at 1.00 p. in.. Philadelphia at 12.10 p. in.and Buttolo at 0.30 a. in. T E. ci ..\ it KK. Gen'l Sup't. T. W. LKK. Gen. Pass. Agt. Ilill win i... fe want to ilo aD kinds of Priming IS ill . Its ML II 111 Kft lis Bad. I ! A. well printed tasty, Bill or Le \f / ter Head, Po-jt.- A/A Ticket, Circulai, Program, P{:i' e merit or Card < (y ) an advertisement for your business, a satisfaction to you New Typo, New Presses, ~ Best Paper, Skilled Work, A ' Promptness \ll you can ask. A trial will make you our customer. We respectfully ask that trial. ; _ . i i iii n — " No. II 11. Mahoning St..
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers