»-. =P All tli® B®@ir By NANCY HAZUP ' < <jri. lit,l U, by Iluby I»ounliui 'id ml see why you would name a i. ! i 'I Jess.ea you might 'a' known up so prim and high headed j i . nil no it. HI in his senses 'd .lit t>» marry her. and, laud • u that don't marry have a t Grandma Cole said to her so i'S meek widow. Nil * 'ole answered a little tremu lously. Bur, mother, they do want to marry !..T Je*s\ might 'a' had four pr *als last year, if only she'd 'a' g e aud let the men speak out." "And who were the men, I'd like to know V" Grandma puffed, her throat ■welling visibly. "Wldderwers with n ie children, or else oue foot in the grave, or cranky old bachelors, or may be «* -n preachers. Besides, how can y. »ii kn«»w even a preacher wants to marry you unless he ups and says so? I never did hold with this way of u ikln' out every man that went to a li e s.- or even rode past It had a notion of golu' there courtln'." H .• pau.-ed In breathless triumph. If Mr- 1 .em Cole had l>een wise she would have held her peace. Grandma b.re controverting \«ry 111 Indeed, and t., prove hei in the waong was to risk everything Mrs Lem knew that very well, but a goaded woman Is often a desperate one Therefore she burst out Well! Three of the men and they weren't widowers nor preachers, !.ut real good chances usked me to a>k Jess.\ If ithe'd listen to 'em. And the other ousT ' There \yosn't any other one- Maria, I don't believe one word you're ay In'," Grandma broke out furiously. "Four pro|«»sals Indeed'. Why, Ann L:za didn't ha\e but three in the whole of last year and the beaus around her all the time like bees around a honey !>ot" T •• other one was Jimmy Wakefield. And he wouldn't be stopped. Just up and asked Jessy like a man," Mrs. Lem said, not meekly, but with such red spots In her cheeks she looked almost us young as her daughter. "Get out of here, you!" Grandma panted Jimmy Wakefield, Indeed! Why In « never had a notion to any body but Ann Liza And she's goln'to take him, too, when she gets good and I '•nit >ou dare talk of him wantln" that stick of a Jessy. If I thought there was any truth in what tu've said I'd send you straight out of the house." -Then we'll go without waiting to bo sent." Jessy burst out from the doorway She had been standing Ju9t outside, feeling somehow that h«r dear pent mother might need her help and countenance. "I don't like to tell, to 4} such tilings," she went on, "but mammy told the truth, nothing but the truth And she shan't stay here to be disulted I'nless you usk her pardon we'll so away." "Where To the county poorhouse? i don't know any other chance for ye." Grandma said, white faced, her eyes flashing. j-.'ie was au imperious old lady, nobly p rtlal to her namesake and favorite grandchild. Ann Eliza Wicks, partly U- a use Ann Eliza was pretty and tak h.g and ii. jiertinent, partly also be e;.:i»- she had money euough of her own to be entirely independent. Grandfather < ole had left everything She held onto It with a g p ..f iron All le-r live children had jj; ,«|,ered except luckless Lemuel. He h;i i .■ ft wife and daughter little except his 111 tack. It had followed them so tin .ugh nit the three years since hi* >:• -ii they had at last been forced to . ; : tie- shelter Grandma had grudg ingly offered ! ■ ' - 1 1! You know I won't t •• tii.it.' grandma had said to Jes n j lun No, missy, I'll marry you H-; iu a year Then you can take your n -her bore with you. Itemember be.girs mustn't Is? choosers. You si:n't ijulto a beggar. You'll get some thing when I die, <if course. But 1 ii ■ _ ai i see my husband's money \ ;-Ti-i us long as I can help It, even If I bad any to spare, which I haven't. II rst« * i-ii n lot to do things Why, Ju • e 1 If llvin' nearly bankrupts me Ann 'Liza has to hare thliigß. h-L- -» „■ it delicate appetite, aud so DotkMiate She can ufford to be, be cause she fan keep on bavin' what she want* v hen she comes to spendln' her own money You've got no money to t-pe;,.l -i you'd better learn economy every way.'' J.->-y ha l l«een forgoing away then, hut her mother's timorous fears had prevailed on her to stay Jessy was n-it strictly pretty. Her eyes were too s«r;>Hi.-«. her lips too severe. She had a g ««1 bin. tine aud clean cut, aud a lovely ikh k below It. Her hair was faxeu. her eyes a water blue. Ann I i had black eyes and hair *ti<l rery I igh color Grandma thought I• r the j t; est creature In the world. se thought Jessica hardly ps sssbU But now as she faced her g ind' hli.l *he saw n Jessica new and fctrang- one whose cheeks were dain »-k roses change startled her She turned Ii 112 s.-iylng in a grumbling j- 'i-»- "Marta, you oughtn't to pro- Go out hi the gurdeu. I i coiuln' pretty shortly. And you, j. t.-u |„,y t,, t.riiig round the buggy I : rit you uiul Ann 'Liza to i.rive « i r t i the store for me" I'm - rrv but I • an't go," J«-say •! hni l. • tight to her moth«»r*B I ' ' ' I ;:i II lie busy [lacking up ■ ' \v we can IteSt get your foolish tulk!" ... led fretfully, i in from the garden, • ' lii in full of dewy roses. H-te . ui- i e-e and lix the parlor v . e -lie < ii.nnded Jessica. Ii • her head and turned '••••: Grandma had weak 1, • was on the point of t in atH.l.igy, Hut as I ; etttsfctj. "I wish ii I « that, i told you what I ettiof iicggars 0 u MwrwtMH-* ner ;tiiL - er named up no ter than e • er N-ui d i ,'s j n're told." she cried, w hi lie Jessl' a by tie* shoulders and trying to shake her. "You say you want to work for a llvin'; prove It by wultln' ou your betters." Je*--ic« set her teeth bard, broke from the quavery hdd and rushed Sway At the Steps she stopped, smiled bitterly and -hook the dust from her feet i iver her shoulder she - ' v. 'M'.'l.cr, meet me at the big g »tc In an h iur; by then I shall know exactly what we can do." Ten minutes latei -he st.„ M i | U the Wakefield yard facing Jluuny, with her. She had so dreaded to tell wha' must be told- to ask the help that was imperative. It was not much, only to carry her mother and their scant be longings to the poorhouse. Any shelter would be better than the Cole roof. There was nobody else she could ask. Jimmy was the only friend within walking distance—moreover, the single person to whom 6he could bring her self to make such appeal. She was. In a way, bound to make It. She hud promised, when she denied him that dearer promise, to call on liltn If she found herself In need of him. Now she was blessing him silently that he hud not asked anything; had listened only to what she cared to tell and said afterward, with a little soothing touch on her hand: "You did right to come to me, Jessy. Of course I'll take you anywhere you may want to go." "You. you must only send us. Black Billy can take us In the wagon. Grandma will be so angry If she knows you helped us escape," Jessica had answered, but at that Jimmy only smiled. Very shortly he made her sit down on the bench under tho big elm and went away whistling, to reappear, all in a whiffet, driving a spanking pair, which drew a aoubie seated vehicle spick and span "I think we'd better make the trip a quick one," was all ho said in an swer to Jessy's expostulation. Almost before she knew it she was sitting beside him, bowling along the turnpike at the team's best pace. As quickly her mother was gathered up, and, the hand luggage properly be stowed, Jimmy amazed Jessy by bid ding her sit behind, adding, "I want to talk to mammy—and these horses don't let me turn my head for any conslder oble time." Jessy began to feel desperately lone ly-she could not even divert herself by watching the dazzle of the flying spokes as the wheels spun round. Jimmy was driving very fast, and keeping to the turnpike. It must be he meant to take them through town— that, no doubt, accounted for his choice of a rig. She knew he hated a shabby outfit—especially upon Saturdays and court days. It might be he had busi ness that could not wait—but some how she felt that he was unkind to think of anything but her extremity. Then she sank into a sort of daee, won- 1 dering dully how it would seem to And herself a pauper, duly committed. She had not thought of that before—of course there were legal forms before they could claim the last refuge of the destitute, and would not the authori ties get back at grandma? She had a dim Idea that well to do folk had to answer for their near kin. No doubt that was what Jimmy was speaking about—he was talking low j and eagerly to mamma. Yes, he was turning the horses toward the court house square. In a wink they drew up there, and Jimmy, springing down, held out his arms to her. "You know there are - arrangements- will you trust me to make them?" he asked very low. Jessica could only bow her head; speech was beyond her. Jimmy looked at her. his eyes tender, yet mischievous. "I want to commit you for life to a poorhouse of which I am keeper." he whispered. "Mamma Is willing. What do you say?" "Nothing." Jessica said, but as she 1 said it she laid her hand in Jimmy's strong clasp, and dropped her long lashed lids to veil a rush of happy i tears. A Clock Hnn by Mnn Power. He was a fine old man who had been to South America, but who was de- ! voting his old age to acting as the works of the clock In the piazza in Capri. It was he who rang those many, many bells we heard and puzzled over. Some forty rapid, high pitched bells at 12.42, seven bells of deeper tone at 3:ofi, and so on. Adelaide had asked Archangelo, the l>ld man's son, to explain these seeming Irregularities and had learned that the bells were only intended to approxi mate the hour; that his father was old and occasionally forgot and rang too little or too much; also that be was but a man and that hunger sometimes came gnawing at his vitals at, say, 11:4G, whereupon he rang for 12 o'clock and wandered home to his spaghetti. His appetite also accounted for occa sional delays In the bell for 1 o'clock. Buppose Archangelo's mother was late In the cooking of the midday meal, could his father return to the piazza without his luncheon? And what doos n quarter of an hour matter after all? In Capri it is truly dolee fur ulente,— Bcrlbner's. The Apirkea Are Son Worahlpert. The Apaches, like many other North American tribes, are sun worshipers. Their myths tell them that the sun is the all powerful deity, and to It all supplications are addressed. Ongoing into battle, planting corn or on start ing on a cattle stealing expedition, the sun Is asked to look with favor. That they believe In a future world is prov ed by their custom of killing horsea and burying them, as well as their clothing and implements of the chase, for life in the future world. Not only the medicine men but the people claim to hold communion with the Cbindl, or spirits of their ancestors. They are also great believers in omens, talis mans and amulets, but are very con servatlve. and It Is witli difficulty that one gets them to discuss tilings super natural They will not talk about God among their own people with familiar ity and scarcely at all with the whits man—E S I'urtls In Pcrlbner's. CHIRSCHMUS. A (In Inn llnltit) 'Mint It Wnde of I're- N**r\«'U C'hrrrlen. Last summer I ate genuine Swiss ehlrschmus twenty years old. It tasted like a concentration of all the richness and sweetness of the most perfect cherries. In appearance It was a pur pllsh black mass. Age had not Impair ed It In the bust. I'pon Inquiry 1 learned how this <-herry concoction, with Its wonderful preserving quality, Is made. The cher ries used must l»e perfect very large, ripe. Juicy black ones and, above all, very sweet. The Juice of them pressed out and strained through n bag is putin a large preserving kettle, at the bottom of which Is placed a piece of smoked pork fastened to a block of wood. The wood serves as a weight to keep tho fut down and prevent the Juice from burning as It thickens. The cherry Juice is boiled for about twenty-four hours without sugar, but stirred from time to time until it becomes a mass of sweetness so firm and thick that It would not fall if the j kettle were Inverted. That is all, a simple process, but the j result Is delicious. Tills chlrschmus Is ! In general use In Switzerland with the "stisse anke" (sweet butter) and bread. Loudon Ladles' World. Q*0*0*0*0»0«00*0»0*Q*0*0*0 § AN I § EPIDEMICS 2 S 5 By c <> Martha McCulloch-WUliams • Q Copyright, IDO6. by C. H. flutcliffe 0 o»o*o*o*o*o*oo*o«o*o*o*o«o "1 have my opinion," Mrs. March said Impressively, "of folks that don't know no more'n to give a candy pull. You don't goto it, Louiza; not on» step. I've brought you up genteel and genteel you've got to stay while you otay with me and your pa." "H'mp! That's likely to be always, the didoes you cut up," her spinster sister-in-law, Miss Mary-Bet, unified. "Patience knows, if I had a girl like Louiza. com in' on twenty one, and four more a-crowdln' her, I'd be glad and thankful of any chance to show her off. And I'd like to have you tell me what there is against a candy pull? Dear knows, I've seen better'n you at 'em and bavin' a mighty good time." Miss Mary-Bet had "means;" hence her outspeaking. Squire March had charged his wife never to argue with her. Therefore that lady contented herself with a mild retort. "I can't say as it's real sinful, un less they mean to have playin' after ward. And I hope you don't think I hold with them kissin' games." "I don't know but you'd better," .Miss Mary-Bet said rumlnatively. "I say let Louiza go, and Mary-Bet and i-.iUy too." "My! That would be a team of M relies," Mrs. March said, drawing il jwa the corners of her mouth. Miss Mary-Bet got up decisively. "There's go in' to be four Marches," she announced. "I'm goln' myself. I know the l'eterses would 'a' asked me ! if they hadn't thought it wasn't wnth I while. And I'm goln* to take my nieces ! and buy 'em a new frock and rlb | bons and shoes. Don't you say a word, Ilannah! One old maid In the | family is more'n enough." Mrs. March gasped; she was past | speech. Miss Mary-Bet was commonly so close with her money her present liberal mind was in the nature of a miracle. But if she repented it she held fast to her word and trotted off a week later to the l'eterses In the high est possible feather. Louiza was gorgeous in a plaid frock —green, blue and purple; Mary-Bet | Junior sported a scarlet delaine, and little Sally, a yellow haired fairy who TUB NEXT MINUTE HE MEASfKED HIS LENGTH ON THE C.VKPET looked like a changeling among her high colored brunette sisters, was in robin egg with little reliefs of white. Miss Mary-Bet herself was a picture of elegance in a span new black silk. Mrs. March declared it was tempting providence to wear such a thing where molasses candy was so to abound, but Miss Mary-Bet had only tossed her head and marched off with it some thing higher than usual. She was rising forty, also fut and fair. Her sharp tongue and masterful ways had kept men rather in awe of her. Now that youth was past she began to see that the world wagged mainly for married folk. so she had made up her mind to marry off her nieces out of hand in spite of their mother. Louiza was not much of a problem. She was so kindly and sweet spirited, withal so much a born economist, at least three personable widowers were thought to !>o on tenterhooks about her, each waiting the lucky chance that would lot him speak his wish. All of them would be at the candy pull, and each should havo his chance. "Miss Mary-Bet had cautioned Lou iza not to be precipitate. "Don't let any man have It to throw up to you that you couldn't get anybody else," she had said. "You Jest listen to ali of 'em and say you gotter have time to make up your mind. Then you can take your pick. Shucks, don't tell me you won't get it! You'd 'a' been mar ried long ago If your lua'd had the sense of a goose. She's kept you tied right to her apron string and never let anybody name courtln' that she wasn't right there to stop the whole thing." Mary-Bet Junior was a handful even without the red frock Her godmother was none too fond of her—they were too nearly off the same piece. The most eligible of the widowers had shown symptoms of wavering when ever he found himself in Mary Bet Junior's vicinage lie was under thirty. it i.'»ni'.a li.nl the bad taste to pre f r one of '.lie other*, »Nn Mary-Bet ivllectel, the wandering and waver ing might he turned to account. Henry May could hardly be •.-tilled a real widower he had but married his sweetheart on Iter deathbed for the privilege of soothing her last fevered hours. That was live years back, so he had been wonderfully constant. I', was only this last year that he had been seen anywhere but at church. Sally's blue eyes were still thoso of i child at least to the casual glance. Looking to their depths, there was foinething more. Sally had light. Miiau i<• i mm moved line thistledown in summer stirs. When the playing iKgan sin- was the star. She had not hone in the candy piilWng; It was hard work. :m I, besides, she hated her pulling pirtner, Sandy Roberts. it made her aim > t sick to touch hands with him in tli • folding of their candy skein. After ihe lir-i time she had let tr» the candy, thereby giving Sandy a I f.lll or so. He meant to get even with | her in the playim: by choosing her out J of thi' very lirM ring and kissing her not once, but many times. Fos-dhly Sully suspected as much. (■ •"tainly she fought shy of any ring where he stood up. Since he was a line singei aim a reauy leaner, tnai cut her out of many things, but she dia not very much mind. Silas Yeuu, the oldest and staidest of the widowers, somelAow took her under his protection anil saw to It that she was not lone some. Miss Mary-Dot chuckled to see it. "Thinks he's same as in the family and belli' good to little Sis," she said to herself, adding after a breath, "but, unless I miss my guess, he's goin' to get the sack. Loulza looks like she plum' wropped up in John Trotter; he's been telllu* her all about the cir cuses he's went to ever since the call come to pull candy." Evidently John was much flattered, lie talked on and on through "Swing Old Liza," through "Mister Muster," through "Onts, Peas, Beans and Bar ley" and to the beginnings of "Snap." "Snap" forbids conversation, albeit It is destitute of singing. Loulza was a beautiful runner, a swift and sure catcher. What need to add that she was ruthlessly snapped onto the floor almost as soon as ever she sat down? Sandy Roberts, in especial, got her out whenever he could, and since ha was the life of the game that was very often. Rut when. In the course of play, she became part of the stump, ho thought It would be great sport to get himself Irregularly the pursuer of Sal ly. He caught her, of course, although she made him pant for It, and would not let her go until he lind given her a resounding smack. The next minute lie measured his length on the rag car pot. Silas Venn's tist had sent him there, and Silas himself stood over him with eyes that said plainly, "Come out side and settle it." Then something happened; something to talk about for at least a generation. Loulza, the meek and mild, the gentlest creature living, flow at Silas in a rage, shook him hard and whirled him aside, then stooped over the prostrate Sandy, half sobbing: If-If be hurt you, I'll kill him! (Jet up, Sandy, darlln'. I don't care who knows now." Sandy rose to his foot, to the occasion. "There's a mix got to be straightened up. folks," lie said, catching hold of Louiza's hand. "We're goin' to mar ry next week, if we have to run away. I've been waitln' and waltln' till she said I in 1 Klit tell the old folks. They don't like me, but they'll have to lump me." "Sandy. I bog your pardon! Shake! I thought you were after somebody else," Silas Venn said joyously, edging to Sally's side. "I'm goin' to speak out, too," she said. "If Sally won't have me I'll stay a lone widower till the end o' my days. How is It. little gal?" ' Ilumpli! I. >ek at her face. She's boon lovin' you since she saw you cry so at your wife's buryln'," Mary-Ret Junior, the Irrepressible, broke In."And I ain't ashamed to say I've loved Hen ry Just ns long. He —he's Just now found it out Rut It's all comln' right"— "Except for me," John Trotter Inter rupted. crestfallen. John was thirty seven, If lie did ad mit to only thirty-three. He had, more over. a flock of girl children. That was why Loulza had beeu set down so much his special benefaction. He look ed speculatively at Miss Mary Bet. After all, sh>- didn't show the five years between them. "I wonder if you'd look at a fellow my size and shape," he murmured un der breath. Miss Mary Bet shook her head at him, but said In his own key: "It must be marry In' Is catchln', same as measles, i' one, and let's talk It over some other time." Whill I* an Ahriiilif This question Is answered In a most Interesting manner by lieorge I.elaud Hunter in an article entitled "The Truth About 'Doctored' Hugs" In Coun try Life In America. Ho writes: "Abrasli is a most interesting word. In Persia If father, son and grand l>ou have Roman noses, then a Roman nose is then brash of that family. If gluttony I* characteristic of genera tion after generation, then Is gluttony the hereditary abrasli. If it Is a strawberry mark on the left shoulder, then the strawberry mark Is an abrash. The a brashes of a rug are the stripes or bands that run parallel or entirely across the pile When seen for the first time bj Americans accustomed to admire and Insist on the deathlike uni formity that characterizes machine products nbrashes are apt to Impress them as defects, particularly If wide. It takes experience and acquaintance with tho art Industries to grasp com pletely the significance and artistic value of Individuality." THE GOOD OLD DAYS. Try Sow THE UIIJN of Vore anil See How Von Mke Thani. Good old times, says the San Antonio Light, are a delusion and a snare, and tho man who sigh:! for them has little conception of what they were. Return to them, would you? Then rise on a cold morning and wash at the pump, pull on a pair of rawhide boots that rival a tin can In stiffness, pull on a woolen shirt over your back and sit down to a bare menl with ;-our three legged stool dancing around on a split 1 slab floor, eat corn pone and bacon for a steady diet and labor fourttnm hours out of twenty-four. Go without u dally paper, a fly screen, a mosquito bar, a spring mattress, a kerosene lamp, geehaw your oxen to market and sit on the floor of an ox cart as you wend your way to church or a frolic. Parch corn and peas for eofifeo and sassafras for tea and see how you like It. The old days are looked backward to affectionately, says tho Galveston News, because they were the days of our youth, of bounding blood and sup ple Joints, the days of hope and the days of love and laughter and song. The days of the present will be the good old days of the coming generation and will be regarded by our successors as rather crude in customs and harsh In many ways, yet withal not to be de spised. The progressives of our age are the niossbacks of later eras. Fifty years hence we will be accouuted as slow and immature as wo now regard those of half a century ago. Tin- Illr«*r lllrcl. A Hant/.le correspondent writes: While swimming on a lake with her brood of live a diver bird was shot and, although mortally wounded, collected her young ones and dived for their safetj When her dead body floated to the surfaee the the little birds were <till clinging with their beaks to her win: -, but :i 11 had been suffotated by remaining too long under th* water.— London Mail I'll llltNOtlll)'. A Ivans;,s philosopher warns the men ißalnst the girl who takes time to con sider a proposal of marriage. He Inti mates lliat she Is hopeful that some thing better will turn up. Still, the nian she Ii 11 a 11 \ iceepts can console lilmsi-]f with tho reflection that she has discovered It wasn't possible for any thing better to turn up. Cleveland • 'lain Dealer. WILES OF THE CHEFSj BANQUET TIDBITS ARE NOT ALWAYS ! WHAT THEY SEEM. "A Cod mill n Kr«-n<-li Cook Can Work Mlraclea"— Tlie HreaM of One "Clilfken" llaw lleen Known to Sat- ' l*fj Twelve llunicr) Dinern. It lias almost passed into a proverb that many of the dishes served up in oheap restaurants, where nothing Is ivasted, are. to put It mildly, mysteries. But, on the other hand, most people who patronize fashionable and more ambitious restaurants are generally content to accept the menu for what it is said to be. This blind trust is some what abused, and the amount of "fak ing" which goes on today in somo of the well to do establishments would probably surprise those who aro un initiated in the higher branches of the culinary art. For instam , by the addition of veg etable juice Just before being dished up cod cutlets are, at seasons when salmon is very dear, set before cus tomers as salmon cutlets and are, needless to say, charged accordingly. This deception, according to an ex chef, is wisely practiced not only in better class restaurants, but also on some of the great liners. Another popular trick as practiced by the restaurateur is to serve a veal beef done up overnight in salted band ages, while a skillful chef has very little difllculty in palming off flatfish for sole on epicures who pride them selves on the soundness of their judg ment of cooking. On one occasion some time ago a dinner for seventy-five people was or dered at a well known fashionable res taurant in the upper part of New York. A large consignment of salmon had been previously ordered, but, to the consternation of the chef, the dinner hour slowly approached and still no salmon arrived. In despair the chef, a Frenchman, decided to "take the bull by the horns" and procure another fish to do duty for the coveted salmon. Accordingly ho sat to work to turn cod cutlets lntosalm on cutlets, and this rapid transforma tion was soon effected by an addition of vegetable juice. The waiters, who naturally were aware of this whole sale deception, were given express or ders to report any complaints to the chef at once. However, to the intenso delight of the chef, all passed off well, and on hearing that his subterfuge had not been detected lie gleefully ex claimed, "Ah, a cod and a French cook can work miracles." Green peas at certain seasons of the year are naturally a luxury quite be yond the reach of the man of average means, while even caterers for fashion able hotels themselves frequently have the greatest difficulty in getting a suf flclently large quantity to meet the de mand. However, to fake peas does not offer any great difficulty In times of stress, and by adding vegetable color ing matter yellow peas are quite com monly served up as green peas along with the duck and flavorless new po tatoes, which more often than not come from abroad. Roast ve | served with a thick white sauce makes, says a well known chef, a most satisfactory substitute for the breast of chicken, and therefore it does not come alt" ether as a surprise to learn that the breast of one chicken has been known to satisfy twelve hungry diners. "The staff take good care of the breast of a • iiicken." was the comment of a waiter v. ho was being for the first lime initiated int » the mystery of how to feed a dozen people off one chicken. Perhaps the cleverest deception prac ticed by eminent chefs is the art of manufacturing the lobster patty, so dear to the heart of the epicure. This appetizing dainty would at llrst sight seem to defy even the most ingenious cookery fakir. However, here again the artful chef h is overcome apparently Insuperable difficulties, and many tooth some looking lobster patties are thus not always quite what they are said to be. The deception is worked In this way: A con:;.ion crustacean is boiled and the meat carefully chopped off and put into a mortar, while afterward part of the shell is added. The mixture is then vigorously pounded as fine as possible, and on the addition of flavoring it would tax the powers of the most critical con:i »isseur to detect any dif- bet we. -n the gastronomic mix ture and the genuine lobster patty. "The various deceptions I have told yon of," remarked a famous chef to the writer, "are naturally not prac ticed every day, but are only utilized in times of emergency, and these emer gency moments arrive more frequently than the trustful customer would like •Jid he but know."—New York Tele graph. What Tact Is. What we call tact Is the ability to find before It Is too late what It Is that our friends do not desire to learn from us. It is the art of withholding on proper occasions information which we are quite sure would be good for them —S. M. Orothers. KILLTHE COUCH AND CURE THE LUNGS W,TH Dr. King's New Discovery /CONSUMPTION Pric» FOR I OUGHSand 50c & SI.OO Free Trial. Surest and Quickest Cure for all THROAT and LUNG TROUB LES, or MONEY BACK. sunn FEW! A Reliable TO SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing* Spoutlne and Canoral Job Work. Stoves, Heaters, Ranftt, Furnaces. «to. PRICES THE LOWEST! QUALITY TUB BEST! JOHN IIIXSON MO. 116 E. FRONT BT. GERMAN GLEE CLUBS. Earl}' Du>» of the Saeiin«-rf«*Ntn In THI* Country. In tins early days of saengerfests In thin country they wore held annually. The third saengerfest wan held In New York in 18T>2, and many Newark Ger mans attended. Below are given ex tracts from tlic Newark Dally Adver tiser, printed at the time: June 10, 1852. The German glee ?lubs of New York will celebrate the third annual festival In New York this year on the l!»tb to 22d of June. The New York Journal of Commerce i-.fates that the trlee clubs from abroad v. ill be received by the New York clubs and honored with a torchlight procession, 'i h" principal performance will take place at the Academy of M' ic, I'ou'tecnth street, when the choruses will be sung by over 1,200 m .le voices, iiccornpanied by an or <•' •stra of luii pieces. On the 22d will be hel 1 a picnic on the Blooinlngdale road, opposite Striker's bay. June 22. Third musical Jubilee of Cermaii sin<»crs, Saturday to Tuesday, 1 !i to 221. The execution of the "Magic 1 line" overture by 1.200 voices was very uncommon and surprising by the New York clubs and was received with great applause. The Eintrachta of Newark sang "Wallislseher Sehif fer: • san-f l.i a distinguished manner. But the most marked performance was Martin Luther's "Kin Festo Burg Ist Unser Gott," arranged by Finke. We felt immediately what religious music really Is how grand, solemn and sub lime such a hymn is when performed by a larj-e orchestra and hundreds of voices. It was something to be re membered long. Kossuth was present during an Intermission and was cheer ed. — Newark News. THE SERPENT'S VENOM. Mohammedan Leiirnd of the Origin of th«- Toltncco I'lnnt. The prophet was taking a stroll In the country when he saw a serpent, stiff with cold, lying on the ground. He compassionately took It up and warmed it in his bosom. When the serpent had recovered it said: "I'ivine prophet, listen. I am now going to bite thee." "Why, pray 7" Inquired Mohammed. "Because thy race persecutes mine and tries to stamp It out." "But does not thy race, too, make perpetual war against mine?" was the prophet's rejoinder. "How canst thou, besides, be so ungrateful and so soon forget that I saved thy life?" "There Is no such thing as gratitude upon this earth," replied the serpent, "and If I were now to spare thee either thou or another of thy race would kill mo. By Allah, I shall bite thee." "If thou hast sworn by Allah, I will not cause thee to break thy vow," said the prophet, holding his hand to the serpeut's month. The serpent bit him, but he sucked the wound with his lips and spat the venom on the ground. And on that very spot there sprang up a plant which combines within It self the venom of the serpent and the compassion of the prophet. Men call tills plant by the name of tobacco.— Conte Arabe. A picturesque ceremony takes plw. every year in Haute Ylenne. All the girls in the place on the day at Bt. Bh»- tropius file In procession to Bt. Junlan loa-Cotnbes to the cross which la er®ot» ed near the church to the saint. Bach girl hangs her left garter on the CTOM and prays that she may have a good husband and then gives way to ibs next girl. The cross is so smothered In garters of different colors that at * short distance It looks as though H wer* covered with flowers. Prepared. A Kansas City druggist says a wealthy west side man came into hi» store Sunday morning and, throwing a dime on the show case, said: "Give me two nickels for that, please." "Going to try a slot machine?" asked the druggist pleasantly. "No," repliad the wealthy man. "I'm going to chare!)." Kansas Cltr Tlm®« ! The Home Paper of Danville. Of course you read j i iii 11. 1i 112 ii I | THE AEOPLEIS I KQPULAR I APER. I Everybody Reatis It. Publisher Every Morninv; Except ) Sunday I t No. II E. Ma ho ngSt. Subscription o c . r W<*ek. MONDAY MORNING. Ia It u Had Time to Approach u Man on UuHlneul "Come in au<l see me Monday morn ing and we'll talk It over," said Gass awuy, but Biuks replied: "Couldn't you make it Tuesday morn lug or Monday afternoon?" So it was arranged for Tuesday morn lug. Binks turned from the telephone to mo with a smile, saying: "I'm glad he didn't make It Monday morning. We would never come to a conclusion then. You see," he contin ued, noting my surprise at such a state ment, "Monday morning is the morning after Sunday. Never approach a man on business on Mondu morning. ' "I can't explain why It is, but every man gi>es to his office on Monday morn ing with a grouch. I suppose it's be cause he's been resting up all day Sun day and sort of hates to tear himself away from it. Anyway, I know it Is so. "Tuk- your own ease. I've known you many years, and whenever you meet me Monday morning I notice that you are yawning, taciturn and un smiling. You had a good Sunday no doubt. Either you rested to beat the band or played golf or did something. Anyway, that took your mind off your business cares. Then you went to bed rather early, all prepared to get up ear ly Monday. When the clock went off you were miserable about rising, and when you did get up you were ugly to everybody. It's the same way with all of us. We rest too hard Sundays. In stead of just relaxing a little we let everything of the week go and fall all to pieces In doing what we call recoup ing. It's the great American habit. "That's the reason we have 'blue Mondays.' Some day, I suppose, we'll learn how to rest up over Sunday with out completely disorganizing our work for Mouduy. If we don't I think it would be a good idea to cut Monday out of the business week and begin on Tuesday."—New Y'ork World. PolltleH find Love. "It's funny," remarked Sandy Bowen, "how politics and love are so much alike. For instance, If you meet a bonnlo girl and she gives you half a chance to kiss her you go in for free trade. However, after you get mar ried and your wife's mother wants to embrace her newly acquired son-in law you go In for protection. If your wife seeks an osculatory exchange you in time become a passive reslster, and"— "She turns out a home ruler if she has any sense," remarked Mrs. Bowen, who happened to overhear the conver sation. -London Mall. T AC KA WANNA HA 1 LRU AD. Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad. In Effect Jan. 1, 1905. TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE. EASTWARD. 7.07 a. in. dally tor Bloomsburg, Kingston, Wilkes-Barre and Scranton. Arriving Scraa lon at 9.42 a. in., and connecting at Scranton with trains arriving at Philadelphia at 8.48 ». in.and New York City at 3.80 p. in. 10.19 a. tn. weekly Tor Blooiiisbnrg. Kingston, Wllkes-Barre,Hcranton and intermediate st a- Hons, arriving at Scranton at 12.85 p.m. and connecting tlwre with trains for New York City, Philadelphia and Buffalo. 2.11 weekly forßloomsburg,Kingston,Wilkes Barre, Hcranton and intermediate stations, arriving at Scranton at 4.50 p. m. 5.43 p. m.daily for Bloomsburg, Kspy, Ply mouth. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre, IMttston, Scranton anil Intermediate stations, arriving at Scranton at *.25 p. rn. and connecting thert with trainsarriving at New York City atb.so a- m., Philadelpeia 10 a. m.and Buoalo7a m. TRAINS ARRIVE AT DANVILLE 9.15 a. tn. weekly from Hcranton, Plttston, Kingston, Blootnshurg and intermediate sta tions, leaving .Scranton at 6.85 a. in., where It connects with trains leaving New York City at 9. H0 p. in., Philadelphia at 702 p.m. and Buffalo at 10.80 a. m. t 12.44 p. m. dally from Hcranton Plttston, Kingston, Berwick, Bloomsburgand interme diate stations, leaving Scrauton at 10.10 a. ni. and connecting there with train leaving Buff alo at 2.25 a. m. 4.88 p. m. weekly om Scranton, Kingston, Berwick. Bloomsburg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Scranton at 1.55 p. in., where it connects with train leaving New York City at 10.00 a. in., and Philadelphia at 9.00 a. m. 9.05 p. m.daily from Scranton. Kingston, Plttston. 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. m., Philadelphia at 12.00 p. m.and Buttolo at 9.30 a. m. T. K. CLAKKE, Oen'l Sup't. T. W. I.KE. Gen. Pass. Agt. 11l I ffliilL We want to do ali Ms of Prating :[ [ nr i II! its tool. II ill Mb. lis Ruwtt 1 1 112 A well prin. tasty, Rill or ■ \} / ter Head, I - ■. » h )lt Ticket, Circu . m y«V Program, St ' ? r>j ment or Card Ly ) an advertisemen for your business, a satisfaction to you New Tyje, New Presses, Best Paper, m Skilled fort A Promptness-. A.ll you can ask. A trial will make you our customer We respectfull" asl that trial. I ill II No. !i I" 'Mahonmtr IT- A. T>TTr X T "P *
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers