Her Christmas Aivgel—Or His A CHRISTMAS STORY By Sully Chamberlin Copyright, lUU4, by Sally <'hamberlin "Whom do you think I saw today, teu.san Strong?" said Ned, with his win ling suiiles, as he walked Into the room uf his invalid sister at the end of his day's work. "Eleanor Carriugton," replied Susan promptly. Surprise overspread his beaming countenance. "That's exactly who it was, but how iu time did you guess?" "A sort of second sight we invalids have, dear boy." answered his sister. "The moment you appeared around that curtain a seusatlou swept over me which I always used to have when I saw her standing across the aisle in church with her unapproachable bear ing and her calm. Madonna-like face. 1 fairly worshiped her, Ned. Where did you see her?" "At the Grand Central depot. She was helping a crippled boy out of a cab when his crutch fell under the wheels. Maybe I wasn't Mr. Johuuy on-the-Spot! My, but she is a queen!" More than this he never said of any girl, for it was Susan's greatest cross that her stalwart brother, the apple of her eye, had been obliged to give up his young life, social and athletic, to bear the financial burden of her illness. Ned Strong had held the record for hammer throwing at his university and had been candidate for the next year's football team when he had been forced to put it all behind him and turn his at tention to sterner realities, including exorbitant bills presented by the spe cialists employed to relieve his sister. For two years she had suffered with an affection of the knee which even the most eminent surgeons had been un able to name. For some weeks now she had been fastened In a brace which gave comparative relief and permitted her to sit up In bed. and with the ces sation from suffering came renewed eagerness to hear of the beautiful out side world. "Eleanor doesn't seem to be going In very strong for society," Ned contin ued. perching himself on the edge of Susan's couch. "When I was lunching with Billy Sanford yesterday he said she had spent almost the entire sum mer going to and from New York with chlldreu whom she was having treated at the hospital for cripples on Forty second street." "Why, Ned, that's the hospital where l>r. Gibbs fs head surgeon. He was telling me alaiut those patient little children only yesterday when lie was working on my knee." "Sure enough. I telephoned him this morning and he says he has a new contraption which he will try in a week or so that will simply discount the brace you have on now." "I shall ask him if he knows Elea nor." "Dou t you worry. He isu't the kind of man who would let such a beauty pass unnoticed and uncultivated though I understand she's spoken for. Billy says Senator Elkus Is the favored •ultor." "He's too old for her." This in a tone of disappointment. "That's the way of the world, Sue. The man that's got the money Is the only one who need come round. The rest of us poor devils can stand back and adore silently. Think of the crip ples she could have treated on the sen ator's money!" He flung back his shoulders as if throwing off an ugly thought, then he bent tenderly over the invalid. "Oh, Sue, It is splendid to see you free from pain once more," and with a rousing kiss, emblem of all his devotion and self sacrifice, he strode away to bis solitary dinner. In one of her wakeful night watches Susan lived back In the year which had preceded her illness. It came to her like a revelation that In those days Ned had not exactly stood back and adored hi silence. Eleanor Carrington hat,' shared all his college enthusiasm, and though Susan, lively, golden haired lit tle sister of a big strapping brother, had never entirely entered into these Interests, in the new light of under standing vouchsafed invalids as a com pensation for physical deprivations she •aw why Eleanor Carrington had sud- ■ denly dropped out of her brother's life. When Dr. Glbbs called the next morning he was surprised at her ani mation. "You want Christmas work to do? Now, see here, you're uot worrying about bills and things?" She shook her head. "I Just want to make some one happy for Christmas. Don't you think I could dress some dolls for the hospital children?" "Just the thing to make you forget the occasional twinges in this knee— that Is, If you don't sit up too long at a time. Til speak to Miss Carrlngton, who is chairman of our Christmas com mittee." And he did not dream why the eud- I'eii, glad light came Into Susan Strong's eyes. Two days later Eleanor Carrlngton'a carriage stopped before the hutcble Strong cottage She brought Into the sickroom a new and Invigorating at moeirtiere "My dear girl I have never heard of your Illness We have lived almost constantly In the country of late, and I seldom see your brother. Why didn't you let me know? I should have been •o glad to come. And now you send for me that you may help me In my work You make me feel so so self lsh." Her rirh furs dropped from her shoul der*. and the tall, statuesque young n..u;n!i fell to the Ilt tie lnvaild w ilii <■«•. pathetic face, big, wistful short, curl ing hair. "Oh, you mustn't tee I th it way," said the girl as she <tr >K<- i the fur with her wasted hand. ".Ned a.< taken such g:>od care of me. mid I well, I Just uccd something to occupy my mind Did you bring the dolls?" -Dolls? Dozens of them!" said Miss Carrlngton, with a happy catch In her voice. "But you must let me cut out .he clothes It is enough for you to *ew." This was the beginuiug of happy days for Susan Strong. Hardly an aft ernoon passed without a call from Eleanor, who wanted to see how the gay ladles from I'aris. Berlin, Switzer land, Japan and Russia were coming on. Sometimes she laid aside her wraps anil sewed with the Invalid. Daring these hours Susan learned many things, not only of the hospital work, but of Eleanor's life at home and In the social world. And. best of • 11, she learned that the rumors regard ing the beautiful girl's engagement to Senator Elkus were without founda tlon. Ouly ouce did Susan, wise little girl th*t (h« was refer to Ned. "If you happen to see Ned, don't tell him about this, will you? I don't want hlni to know until all the dolls are fin ished, and then we'll have a dress pa rade. Maybe when he sees the work Las not hurt me, be—he will let me do something to help him—pay the bills." Eleanor Carriugton looked past the invalid, through the window, Into the clear winter sunlight as if seeing a faraway picture. "I do not think there is any danger of my seeing your brother." Itut she was wrong. She saw him the very next day, when he came home earlier than usual. She had brought some holly to deck Susan's room, for Christmas was drawing near, and she had brought a beautifully embroidered dressing sack for the Invalid also. Su san was tying tin bow at the throat of her dainty gift and surveying herself In a small mirror. Eleanor was hang ing a holly wreath above the dressing table, when she swung around sudden- ly, the gay wreath rolling to the floor. In the mirror she had caught sight of Ned Strong's amazed face. He was standing in the doorway. "Oh. N'cd. why did you come too soon?" cried Susan in mock dismay. In reality her heart was singing with very joy. "Eleanor." said the man without moving from the doorway. She stoojted to pick up the wreath, and when she stood up once more her color had come back and her composure was perfect. "We were just fixing a little surprise for you." she said, offering her hand and meeting his glance squarely, "but I don't think you deserve it. You haven't played fair, Ned." His glance wavered from her face to the Invalid's couch. Susan was landing over, tying a refractory bow In a doll's hat. Elea nor went on quietly. "You might at least have told me why"— "1 couldn't." His voice was very low. "I did not dare ask you to wall." She drew her breath sharply. "And yet you must have known." A minute later Ned Strong bent over his sister's couch. The refractory bow hail couie to time. She looked up into his face with shining eyes. "Susan, dear, you're our Christmas angel." Stork Lrfradi. In an old collection of matronly sto ries entitled "The Gospel of the Dis taff," printed at Bruges in 1475, this passage occurs: "When a stork builds her nest over a chimney It is a sign that the proprietor shall have wealth and long life." Ancient beliefs admit ted that the stork protected buildings against lightning. It is a holy bird, and in certain German towns the ar rival of the storks, heralds of spring, was announced with joyous blasts by the watchman on the tower. What Is certain is that which Mlchelet says of the swallow may be applied to the stork. "He has taken not only our house, but also our hearts." Legends go still further. They con sider storks as the Incarnation of de parted souls. In that metamorphosed capacity they have for mission to search the bottom of wells for the souls of newborn infants. In the whole of northern and central Germany they have their baby wells. Hamburg, too< had her "kindelbrunnen." This naive faith has Its origin in ancient mytholo gy, which represents the stork, jointly with the peacock, as the favorite bird of Juno, goddess of maternity.—French of Maurice Engeihart. U«Hle With Maxim Goo. One of the instructors of a big uni .versity led the way to a small box, smiling with pride as he did so. "I want to show you a rare species of bee tle," said he. The beetle, which was a burnished blue, with a red head and red legs, lay partly hidden under a stone. The in structor advanced his linger slowly. The beetle waited, watchful »nd in trepid. The finger almost touched the insect, and then—puff, a cloud of blue smoke shot out, and under cover of this smoke the beetle beat a rapid re treat. "Isn't that marvelous?" the Instruct or said. "And the little rascal can emit puff after puff -can fire gun after gun nineteen or twenty to the minute. No wonder he 1s called the bombar dier, is it? 4 "This bombardier bet-tie is rare. He has In his body certain glands secret in# a liquid rhlch, on contact with the air, has the curious property of turn ing Into a smoky vapor The vapor la his defense against bigger beetles. Hidden under tt, he seeks a new re treat." I THE PUEBLO INDIANS. Their llrlltilon la In a War a Speciaa of Water Worship. Eagle feathers are much used In the ceremonials of the I'ueblo Indians, and in order to make sure of a supply the Zunl keep the birds In cages, plucking a few feathers whenever they happen to want them. On the otlier hand, the Moki have eagles' nests located at va rious spots within thirty or forty miles of their towns, which are considered the property of different clans among them. The eagle lays its eggs In the same nest year after year, and the clans inherit rights to certain nests from generation to generation. The eagles are not killed, but the new fledged young ones are taken from the nest—that Is to say, all but j one or two, which must be left. To I remind the engle god to encourage the I laying of more eggs by the birds an egg carved out of wood Is placed : where the divinity will be sure to see It; also, after being plucked, the ea glets are carefully burled In a certain j cleft In the rocks, which Is the eagle , cemetery. Here the eagles have l»een | interred for centuries, and the place is ; very sacred. The I'ueblo Indians have a tradition of the flood, and they say that the tur key is marked In commemoration of that event. Its tall being black at the end where It was dragged through the mud after the water had subsided The duck is another sacred bird, be ing associated with water. From the I'ueblo point of view, anything that is related t > the all precious water In any way is an object of worship. Their re ligion is made tip to a great extent of aquatic divinities and might be called a species of water worship The Hirer Kon BO Tropical rivers vary greatly in vol ume In the rainy season sweeping to the sea In vast torrential floods and near the end of the dry season flowing •lowly and only in the central and deeper portions of their beds 'I he Kongo, however, the largest river in Africa, rises and falls very slightly, and Commander Cameron accounts for this peculiarity, which was at onetime considered inexplicable, by the observa tion that the basin of this great river extends oti both sides of the equator, and therefore one moiety of Its tribu taries are In flood while the other are at their minimum volume ♦ • Circus vs. Coohery By COLIN S. COLLINS Copyright, 19ui, bu J. W. MulUr 0 <> Jackson Peters regarded the girl by his side almost with horror. "I can't help what you think," she cried defiantly. "I Just can't stand tills sort of thing any longer." "You don't have to."he urged gently. "You Just say the word, Sally, and I'll see your pa tomorrow " "Can't you understand. Jack Pe ters?" she cried, with a stamp of the foot. "That woman wouldn't let me take the high school course 'cause I'd be wantlu' togo to college next, she said. She Just don't want to see me do anything grand; Just get married and settle down slaving for some man Just as I've been slaving for her ever since pa married her." "Don't you think," he suggested gen tly, "that perhaps she means well? She's seen a lot of the world. Mebbe she knows 'twouldn't do no good." "There you go, preaching like all the rest," she stormed. "Some of these days you'll wake up and find me gone. 1 can be as good as her." "I d«*i't see why you want togo off and be foolish Jest because you don't •like Mrs. Burrows," he declared gently. "She means well." "I'm going to be like lier," insisted the girl, pointing to a lurid poster rep resenting a young woman in gay ap parel standing upon the tip of her toe on the back of a spirited horse. "She was one of 'em once. I guess I can ride that way as well as on a saddle." "Iluh," mused Peters. "A girl as can cook as well as you ain't got no call to be trapesing round the country with a circus." Sally Burrows got down from the wall. "All the same," she cried defi antly. "I'm goin' with "em," with a noil toward the circus posters. "I guess 1 can cook for 'em until I can ride. She darted off down the road. Peters looked regretfully after her. He knew from experience the futility of seeking to overtake her. Things had been well between him self and Sally Burrows until her father had married a circus rider who had been thrown from her horse and left behind by the show until her fractured leg grew well. Ixmg before that time she had won the affections of Hiram Burrows, and she made him a good wife. Sally, how ever, had refused to accept her new mother, and there had been quarrels ever since llirani had brought home his bride. The girl resented the intrusion of another woman in her mother's place and her own dethronement as mistress of the house. Now she chafed to leave the quiet home and make a name for herself even as the rival had done, and Jack son Peters pleaded In vain. He had a strong ally In Mrs. Bur rows, who saw that the girl In a home of her own would be far happier than lu her father's house, but this very alii ance was against him, and Sally from the barn saw him go into the house, and her Hiender frame shook with sobs as she realized that Jack was talking over her new ld«*a with her stepmother. She did not, however, connect Jack son's visit with his departure fur the county town the following day, nor did sllie realize that he carried with him a letter to the proprietor of Wells' tJrand United Shows and Consolidated Men ageries; therefore it was with no sus piciou that she regarded that gentle man's enthusiastic welcome of her proposition that she join the troupe and act as cook until she could learn to be a performer. "Just what 1 wanted," he cried jo vially. "You've got the very build for a rider. We lay over here tomorrow, and I'll give you your first lesson In the afternoon." Sally wanted to wait, but Weils would take 110 denial. Tlte show would stay 011 the grounds over Sunday, and there was no time to be lost. She could slip away from her people, and he could tell just what she could do. Her stepmother had driven over to the next town for a visit after the matinee performance Saturday, and there was nothing to hinder her from keeping her appointment with Wells. One of the women furnished her with a costume from her own wardrobe, and Sally, blushing furiously at the bloom ers, crept into the ring. Wells was teaching his own daughter to ride, and to the center pole of the tent had been added a huge boom which reached out as far as the cir cumference of the ring. From a pulley at the end of this dangled a rope with the horrible suggestion of a gallows, and beneath it stood a broad backed white horse, his back sticky with pow dered resin. A man In his undershirt and overalls, looking very little like the ring master of the afternoon before, stood talking with the tired faced clown. As she appeared he came toward her with a broad canvas belt. This they fastened about her waist, hooking the ring at the back into the dangling rope. The ring master lifted her to the horse's back, while the clown pulled the rope tight, and with a few brief directions about keeping her bal ance the ring master cracked the whip and the horse started off. For two or three paces she kept her balance, then, with a yell, she realized that she was falling. Her feet went up and the weight of her body was thrown against the belt. They let her down, gasping for breath, until she clutched the horse's mane and could regain her footing. Then the dreadful whip cracked again, and again she hung by the belt wildly waving her limbs. The boom was pusneu around s> that she kept always over the back of tJ • horse, and by an effort she recovers! her balance, aided some what by the slackening of the rope at the end of the "mechanic." Twice around the ring and her am bition to be a rider died within her. She scrambled from the horse's back, trying to choke back the tears of hu miliation. Wells was all sympathy. "Perhaps you might be better its an acrobat," he suggested kindly. "You'd make a good enough rider if you kept at It I)olIy, here, was worse than you when she started in. Want to try it again?" "1 thiyk I'tl rather be an acrobat," she almo-t whispered, trying to choke I back the smhs. Acrobats were not left j dangling over a horse, and they had a ! soft mat to fall upon. The clown led the horse from the ; ring, and two men unrolled a f»'lt pad , Upon the sawdust. liven without the 1 blue tights she recognized them as the | acrobats, anil she watched them curi ' ously as they fastened a rope about the belt." "Now,when we say 'Now!' "cautioned one, "you throw yourself forward just as though you were going to dive into water." She braced herself for the command It seemed ages in coming, but at last eke heard the cry and gave a Jump forward. She felt the rope around her waist tighten; she realized that she wan spinning in the air, and then she land ed on bands and knees on the pad. She had only turned twice, but it seemed as If she had been revolving lu space ! for an hour l or a moment she lay there, sobbing, ! until the kindly faced woman took her | to the dressing tent. "It's harder work than you thought, isn't It?" sin asked kindly. "We all have t<> K'» through with that. I thought they were going to kill me before 1 learned to ride." Wells seemed disappointed, but not surprised, when he learned that she had abandoned a circus career, but he was very nice about It, and she crept out of the tent humiliated and nsham | eil. Three months later Jackson Peters was saying g< xlby to Mrs. Burrows before taking his bride to her new home. "Be a good husband to her, Jack." 1 said the lady, "and if you want to hold her love never let her find out that 1 used to ride for Wells and that we had it fixed up for her." And Jackson, being wise, never told. Twelve Series of Perfume*. A leading authority on perfumes di vides the entire list into twelve series— (l) floral, as of the rose, violet and the like; herbal, as of bergamot, mint ; and other aromatic plants; (3) the grass series, comprising several fragrant grasses which grow- in Ceylon or In dia, as the orai.ge grass, which con tains an essential oil Identical with that of the orange, and ginger grass, ! which has the perfume of the ginger root; <4i the citrine scries, comprising the orange, lemon and their combina tions; (."n the spice series, derived from the clove, cinnamon, allspice and the like; (ill the wood series, as the sandal wood, sassafras, rosewood, which de rives its name not from the fact that if lias the color of roses, but from the odor exhaled by it when freshly cut; (7i the root series, as the orris root and many others; (Si the seed series, as the caraway and vanilla; (!h the balm and gum series, of which there are many varieties; <lti| all perfumes and es sences derived from fruits. The elev enth series consists of combinations of the foreg >ing varieties, and the twelfth comprises all animal perfumes of what- I ever nature. lioSv Lurice »w Zealand Is. New Zealand is popularly supposed | to be a gr >up of comparatively unim portant i lands lying close off the coast of Australia and subject to what Is vaguely termed "the Australian govern ' nient." As a matter of fact, it is about equal iu area to the British Islands, Is distant sjinc 1.2"" miles from the neighboring continent, is an Independ ent. self governing colony and pos ses cs in »rc I l at'.tiful and varied scen ery than any other single country of the world except the I'nited States. Tb -s colony consist* of two large ls l.iu - and a third small one, called S c.a i lan ; to the south. The two I r,e i i iids are pr iperly called the N . h is'and and the Middle Island, | bui in < •ny language the Middle M • I li '::•*• i the South island. As i!:. s it' ;s|.- -|il is nearer to the ant a'ctii r»*le 111:iit the North Island, It has. « <].» yin its southernmost part, a cold clini; l 'e. The North Island has a warm en ► i!gh climate to cause the ole i andci and . ai ellia to bloom luxurious ly, a nil i'i s northernmost part the orat:g< gr-iv.'s well. \it <* if* li t Artiats. lii known generally that works of J art were w . .! paid for in ancient times? I A Germ., i review furnished recently some i> i • "liars about that question, poljgnoie o! ill siis, who lived about I,Vi r. « . i i escd. it is true, any pay ment 112" ii* hi- works and declared that he was - Mil: ■ inlj rewarded with the title of clt'zeii of Athens. whl< 'l had been <• inferred <>n him. But such dls- Interi -te h:. s vis seldom imitated. Thirtj yi a - later the painter Zeitxls of Ileraclciini was called to the court of A rein ' itis 1 kin.; of Macedonia. He received tic his frescoes iu the palace | nf I Vila li«' mines, about SN.iKMi. Mna siin of K'.itbca paid for a "Bat tle With ■ Persians,'' which he had ordere 1 fr«n. \istides, .the leader of the Tl eban ■■e'lool. I'amphllus of Syci (niii u ,e i i-nur-e of lectures on paint ing I'. eh i.pi paid for attendance one i: •: '. r -1 "i i'a year. Apelles re cei.eil r ■ i : ■; id talents, about $240,- ;oi (if p. ait of Alexander 1., or ■ dor- 1 by tl .- ■ ?; of Kphesus Hate Ml % round- The famous Kngllsh thief Justice Holt and liD wife hated each other to the limit, and she fell dangerous ly 111 he was so delighted that he be came disgracefully tipsy. But his wife was equal i > the emergency and sent for the great Dr. Radellffe, who hated Holt, and therefore out of spite when the case was presented to him came with great promptness and saved her i life.—London Chronicle. Goblets with st in and stand like those we use today were employed Iu Troy !»'i > B C. Among the valuable | objects found by Dr. Schllemann was a golden goblet Vessels of this metal j were c inimonly employed iu the serv j lee of the temples. J J. BROWN THE EYE A SPECIALTY Eyes tested, treated, fitted with <la«s --* and artificial eyes supplied. Market Street, Blooinsburg, Pa. Hours—lo a. m. t'» sp. m. mm ei i A. Reliable TIN SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne: and Ceneral Job Work. Stoves, Heaters, RanMi, Furnaces, eto. PRICES TIIR LOWEST! QUALITY TUE BEST! JOHN HIXSON NO- 116 E. FRONT BT. o , Slhcn J3bner Fuietlcd By C. B. LEWIS l I'M.', bu Mc< lurv, I'lullipn A Co. , Abner Hope, twenty four years old, lived 011 a farm Just out of Melville, with lils sister for housekeeper. Ad joining his farm was that of the Wid ow Williams She was thirty-five years old. but she moved around with the \ step of a girl. She had only put off her mourning when Abner fell in love with her The widow was looked upon as a t catch by more than one, and Abner had to brush aside three widowers, two old bachelors and a young man or two be 1 fore he stood in the front row. Abner Hope was what some folks call a poke. He wasn't lazy, but he was easy going. He intended to take the widow under his arm indue time and clear away the line of fences be I tween the two farms, but he didn't sec , any special hurry about it. The widow had said that if she ever married again she would insist on a bridal tour lasting at least two weeks, j and lie had to figure as to the most convenient time for sparing those two weeks from the farm. He also wanted to study the widow and make sure that she was what she seemed, and it was j also a pleasant thing to sit with her on the veranda and talk romance and love. There were many reasons for let ting things drag along. Abner never had popped the question and been answered with a "yes," al though it was tacitly understood that | there was an engagement. One even | ing he strolled over in his easy way tc find the widow in a snappy frame of mind. She had been doing up pre serves that day and burned her hand. Iler greeting was not as effusive as usual, but that did not disturb Abner in thr> least. He sat down and began to talk about the corn crop, and tli* widow stood it for ten minutes before she snapped out: "Look here. Abner Hope. I)o yoi know that folks are talking about us?" "I hadn't heard anything in particu lar." "Well, I have. Mrs. Richards told me today that the whole neighborhood was wondering why you came here sc often." "Why—why, 1 come a-eourting, of course. 1 thought everybody knew that." was the surprised answer. "And what has come of it?" "Nothing as yet. but as soon as I can ,get around to it I'm going to ask you to marry me. I suppose you under stand that." "Mr. Hope," replied the widow as she looked up with flashing eyes, "vou needn't waste your breath asking nit to marry you." "Why. Mary, what's come over you ' all at once?" "I am Mrs. Williams, if you please j and as 1 am very busy this evening 1 hope you will excuse me." "I)o you mean that you are going tc marry some one else?" asked Abner after a moment's thought. "My business is my own, sir." "Don't be a dodo, Mary." "How dare you talk to ine this way? Sir. I bid you good evening!" She rose up and entered the house, and after sitting around for half an hour Abner took a slow departure and made his way homeward. As he thought matters over his conscience J told him that he was derelict. He should have settled the matter weeks before and been ready to get married as soon as corn husking was over. The result of his deliberations was that he would let a day or two pass to smooth down the widow's temper and then call and ask her to set the day. He realized that he loved her, but be didn't per spire over the thought of losing her. It so happened that Abner had togo to town on a lawsuit for a couple of days and that he was extra busy with j work on the farm, and It was a week before he made bis next visit to the widow's. The Home Paper | of Danville. 1 i Of course you read J I 111 MI, j THE HECKLE'S 1 KQPULAR I APER, Everybody Reads It. 1 Published Every Morning F-xcept Sunday at No. II E. Ma he ngSt. I Subscription o cer. ;'-r Week. He rouna mat tmngs had changed. - She was entertaining a man about forty I I years old whom she Introduced as Mr. j Simpson, and it was plain from Mr. i Simpson's attitude that be was much 1 i attracted. Abner was formally introduced as 1 Mr. Hope, and the widow conversed with him as if they had seldom met. 1 Mr. Simpson was engaged In driving wells, putting up wire fencing and > ! erecting windmills, and Abner dls- . 1 I covered that he had a rival. Indeed, j ; ; Mr. Simpson was more than a rival. ■ He was now the man inside. Abner Hope went home to wake up. j There was a feeling In his heart that 1 i he had never felt before that of Jeal- I ousy. It made him stir himself. Bright j ! and early next morning he went over J : to the next farm to borrow a hoe and j incidentally to ask the widow to set the \ i 1 day. but she was not to be seen. He called three times that week, but j had no luck. Then he lay In wait to j 1 i pound Mr. Simpson. Fortunutely for ; the drive w«»ll man.he carried a gun, ' and when he exhibited it Abner backed j - off like a sensible man. Within two 1 weeks it was reported that Mrs. Wil- j j liams and Mr. Simpson would make a , i match of it and that the engagement j would be brief. Abner Hope thought ' fast and mnvml fast. He was deter -1 mined not to give the widow up, but under existing circumstances was help ' less in the matter, when accident fur ' nlshed him a weapon. There was to be a circus in town, ' eight miles away. Mr. Simpson had ln ; vlted the widow, an 1 they were to drive in a livery rig. Mr. Simpson I boarded at the village tavern. On the j morning of the circus there was u row In the place when he woke up. Some one had entered his room in the night j i from the open veranda window and J j hail robbed him. Ii took him fifteen j I minutes to explain what he had been i robbed of, and then only after he had j ! resorted to pencil and paper. He raved i and gesticulate I an I jabbered strange j words. He w;is sure there could be no mistake as to his having been robbed. He wanted the sheriff and all his con , stables put on the trail at once, and he ordered mush and milk for breakfast and ate it without appetite. After breakfast he wrote two or three notes to the widow, but tore them all up and finally set out for her house. People who had seen him every day for weeks did not know him. Mr. Simpson and the widow were to start for the circus at 11 o'clock in the , forenoon. At that hour lie drove up to . her house and descended. She was not i quite ready and asked him to wait a ! , few minutes. He smiled and bowed i and answered in the Choctaw dialect. "Why, Mr. Simpson, what on earth ails you?" she asked as she looked him over. Smiles and bows and more Choctaw. "You your cheeks have all fallen in; you mumble your words: you don't look at all like yourself, what has bap . pened?" I "I've been robbed," be replied through the medium of paper anil pencil. "Good lands; But what of?" I "My teeth. Both plates are gone. , Some one entered my room last night." "Did 1 ever! And you expect togo to the circus and entertain uie without a tooth in your head. I'll not go." And so evident was her determination that Mr. Simpson abandoned further effort to persuade her and drove ofT. At that juncture Abner Hope drove up A minute after hitching his horse lie was on the veranda beside the i widow. "Mary." he began, "I have cotue to take you to the circus." "1 I expected togo with Mr. Sinip i son." "I wanted to have a long talk with j you." "But you the same as called me a dodo." "1 know, but neither of us knows what i a dodo is." They drove away together, and when they had made a distance of two miles and were crossing a swamp Abner took : something from his coat pocket and j gave the packet a tlinp among the crass ; and water. "What is it?" asked the widow. "Shall we be married Thanksgiving ' day?" be asked as he dodged her ones- tlon by Littinff at a horse fly wlth'tLe lash. And the sheriff found DO clew. A Mutter «>r I'ronnudut lun. Is it too l.ire t'« make a stand against tile mispronunciation of the word frieze as s;j>j,;ie« 1 to Irish tweed? On • lie other side of St. George's channel they know better than to confuse their wall decor::tion with their dress ma terial ami pronounce the one "freeze" and the other "frise." So did we in old England. Originally meaning the cul ling nap on cloth from the French "Miser." to curl; Welsh. '"tTris," nap of cloth fri'.' as it was then spelled an ! pronoun, i-d, < aine to mean cloth that h I a nap on one side and is now applied to a::y rough kind of home spun We can lie sure of the old pro nunciation from the motto worn by ltrandon. duke of Suffolk, when, on his marriage with Henry Ylll.'s sister, lie appeared at a tournament on a burse i!raped half in "frieze" and half in cloth of g ild : Cl' ill <>r i ol !. oo not thou despise, ThourrU thou i»' matched with cloth of Ii i"< : Cloth of friz' . not thou too bold. Thou-I tho I matched with cloth of Bold. London Chronicle. Kurly I:U■ <>|M-II 11 I'liNtui Events. M irrh i. r.iio to. S.i, Francis de Taxi- . p: iinte.l "capitaine et maistre denis p l es" by I'hilip, regent of the \eth<rla:i is, ai Chent. It is a matter of record thai the Taxis posts carried English ! ail* from Calais to Vienna and Home before 1000. J; ii. l v . r.ol n>. Si. Francis de Taxis instructed to • stalilish regular posts between Urus.M'ls and the capitals of Germany. France and Spain, with pay at I'J.OOO li> res per annum. In 1.",07 England had a "magister postarum." appointed by Henry VII. I'ossibly it was Sir Brian Tuke, who served until 10-l-l. NA . lolsi. Charles V. concluded a contract with Francis anil Baptist de Taxis requiring them, for 11,000 gold ducats, to maintain posts between Brussels, the capitals of Germany, France and Spain and Naples. Every postotfice was to have two horses. The Brussels-Paris route was to be covered in thirty-six hours, Brussels-Burgos In seven days and Brussels-Naples In fourteen days. AIMIIII'M Way. Abdul I la mid insists upon It that ev ery ruler or other political personage should die a natural death. Other manners of death are not "recognized" officially in Turkey. When King Hum bert was assassinated at Monza the Turkish newspapers announced this pad event in the following form: "King Humbert left the hall amid the frantic cheers of the people. The king, much affected, bowed several times and to all appearance was immediately dead." When the late shah of Persia wss as sassinated the Turkish papers said: "In the afternoon the shah drove to his summer palace and there complained of Illness. His corpse was sent to Te heran." < »ne paper, however, exceeded all others In "simplifying" tin* piece of news by publishing thi< absurdity: "The shah felt a little 111, but finally his corpse returned to the palace." This phrase was too much even for the Turks, who have retained it to this day as one of their proverbs. Dundee Advertiser. One of tlie Symptom*. "But how did you know that I wei In love with vou?" he asked. "You were so foolish." she answered —Chicago Post. Alcoholic perfumes, manufactured by saturating alcohol with the odor of certain fruits or flowers, were made at early as th" fourteenth century KSLLTHE COUGH AND CURE THE LUNGS wth Dr. King's New Discovery ___ /CONSUMPTION Price FOR I OUGHS and 50c &SI.OO Free Trial. : Surest and Quickest Cure for all THROAT and LUNG TROUB i LES, or MONEY BACK. LA< K A WANNA RAJLROAD. BLOOMSBCRCJ DIVIHION Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad. In Effect Jan. 1, J905. TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE. !EASTWARD. 7.0T a. in.daily tor Bloomshurg, Kingston, Wiikes-Harre al.d Scranton. Arriving Scran ton at 9. t'J a. in., and connecting at Scranton with trains arriving at Philadelphia at 3.18 a. ni. and New York City at 3.30 p. in. HUM a. in. weekly for Bloomshurg. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre.Scranton and intermediate sta tions, arriving at Scranton at 12.35 p. m.and connecting tli're with trains for New York City, Philadelphia and Buffalo. 12.i 1 weekly forßioonishurg,Kingston,Wilkes Barre, Scranton and intermediate stations, arriving at Scranton at 4.50 p. ni 5.43 p. in.daily for Bloomshurg, Espy. Ply month. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre, f'ittston, Scranton and intermediate stations, arriving at Scranton ;il -.25 p. in.and connecting there with trains arriving at New York City at 6.50 a- in.. Philadelphia 10 a. m.and Buffalo 7a. in. TRAINS ARRIVE AT DANVILLE. 9.15 a.m. weekly from Scranton, Pittston, Kingston, Bloomshurg and Intermediate sta tions, leaving Scranton at ti.35 a. m., where it connects with trains leaving New Yor* City at 9.30 p. m., Philadelphia at 7.02 p. m.and Buffalo at 1u.30 a. ni. 12.41 p. in.daily Irom Scranton Pittston, Kingston, Berwick, Bloomshurg and interme diate stations, leaving Scranton at 10.10 a. in. and connecting there with train leaving Buff alo at 2.V5 a. in. 4.33 p. m. weekly Ironi Scranton. Kingston, Berwick. Bloomshurg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Scranton at 1.55 p. m., where It connects with train leaving New \ork City at 10.00 a. m..and Philadelphia at 9.00 a. ni. 9.05 p. in.daily from Scranton. Kingston, Pittston. Berwick. Bloomshurg and interme diate stations, leaving Scranton at 6.35 p. m., where it connects with trains leaving New York City at 1.00 p.m., Philadelphia at 12.00 p. ni. and Buffolo at 9.33 a. in. T. E. CLAIIKE, Gen'l Sup't. T. W. LEE. Gen. Pass. Agt. Pennsylvania RAILROAD. S«li e<ltilr 111 Klfect Janimr)' I, l»Ofi. Trains leave Sinitli IJanvlll* as follows: Fori atawissa. East Bloomshurg, Nescopeek, N'anticoke. Wilkes-Barre. Pittston, Scran <on,.ind intermediate st at i0n5.7.11 a. m., 2.21 and r>.. R iO p. m. week days,and 10.17 a. m.daily. For Siiiihury and intermediate stations,9.ooa. m.and 7.si p. in. week days, and 4 31 p. in. daily. , i'or Sunhury onlv, 12.10 p. ni. week days. For Pottsvllle, lieidlng. and Philadelphia, 7.11 a. m.and 2.21 p. in. week days. For Ha/leton 7.11 and 10.17 a. ni . 2.21 ond 5.50 p. in. week days. For Lewishurg. Willianisport and Lock llaven 9.00 a. m.. 12,10 and 4.31 p m week days: for \\ illiamsiMirt and intermediate stations.7.sl p. in. week days. For Beltefonte Tyrone, Pliilipsburg, Clear lield. and Pittsburg, 9.00 a. m.and 12.10 p. m. week days. For llarrishurg and intermediate stations 9.d0 a. in.. 12.10. 4.31. and 7.51 p. m. week days; 4.31 p. m. Sundays. I or Philadelphia (via Harrisnurg'.Baltimore and Washington. 9.00 a. m.. 12. 10 and 7.51 p. in. week days: 4.31 (Baltimore only) p. m. daily. For Pittsburg (via llarrishurg 1,9.00 a. m.,12.10, 4 31, and 7.51 p. m. week days: 4.:il p m. Sun days: (via Lewistown Junction) 900 a. m. and 12 10 p. m. week days; (via Lock Haven) 9 00a. ni. and 12.10 p. tn. week days. For further information apply to ticket w' W' ATTFBBI RY, J R. WOOD, Gen'l Manager. Pass'r. Traffic Mgr. GEO. W l«)Yl>,Gen'l Passenger Agent MP I 111:?... le van! to ia ai Ms af Printing f\ 11 !IS j ■! ITS HI. II ill nut. lis Btnit. I f A well prin! 112 tasty, Bill or Le . \f / ter Head, Post-. * A)Z Ticket, Circuln: Program, State £>l ment or Card (y ) an advertisemen for your business, a satisfaction to you New Type, New Presses, „ Best Paper, m Mien loft A Prompiness -111 you can ask. A trial will make you our customer. We respectfull v ask that trial. 11111 *«• No. II K. Mahoning St.. TZ) ,XJB.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers