FAN ANGEL: f'LEPHANT RiTCHEN CRAYDON , by K. Parcel Is 1 | 112 vou dream how atlor i * 1 that blue sown," Ileth < • ins w himself of ; > ! t away, pursed her lips ; fluns ba< k at him, "Oh! j 1; - sown. Is it? Thank you for i .-- 1 shall 1M- Mire to wear it j t li: e thf MacCarty comes to in the MacCarty!" Ilether i -.1 "I'd like to break his li n, the presumptuous oaf. > , bush. has he even to admire v ili t a eat look at a king?" Pliilo iter ipted demurely, lier eyes „• ii the screen of their long hi I the charm of infinite va - she was positively otla « ravishlngly beautiful, i - . i!i - lantlM days. | si,, karar it. ami aeted upon tho s:,. OMi lletherton for t I tli ;s, hiefly Miss Mannering 1). ikNl 1 !«e paid In full. lie had I : i"it! to her outright, but .ill ' i .-.1 gnyly that she would . ;• ill g openly, In a light ... M\ manner that might meau cwytl g or nothing. She bad not tie Bgfct comedy manner, be- j i - <iir«'of her own mind. Still ad been distinctly agaravat liim run off after the Man l in* same as the other men. •lei. »ys ho had kept In tho ■ s tr . n; worse still, he had In Philomena not merely re- ! it with the air of one who • l.e has discharged the duty t»f a p -oper man.i ' \ y Ink at a king; the prov jt a- tn queens," lletherton • t'-d. "Moreover, you can scarcely eh It t » tit an elephant, which Is ■ • M rty's animal prototype." , " v i kii"W how I came to promise h • iauces I adore elephants—al-1 *' Pllomeua murmured, re l! < h as If aside. caught both her hands aud to her feet. "I>o you meun to I, prom «■?" lie asked, his face SI •• smiled up at him an- 1 da- a< she answered: nous? He may prefer to sit But if he should, you needn't w II take eare to keep out of t you and Miss Mannering"— ■" lletherton laughed, not I but wth a magical light coaatentMe. "I must say '•e haudsmue of you," he t!!••:». his hands slipping up r 1 -rs. Sweetheart, let's run :i« us everything tbe grand ball, M nr. th- MaßMTiaff rim atAy srrled. Listen! It will be « ii \ ;i pin across eountry to it r I ttle stone chureh we saw • ■'II take along witnesses ;i.iph f..r our traps to follow ii :f v.re <* iiie, when 'twere done v w«'twere done quickly.' i 1.-nv much we shall escape, all th . and frills and upsetmonts of a Idiiu And this Is the only way m . ,|n" thc;n. I know your aunt has I, !; 4 rt eton St. Thomas', with bridfsii): s and all the rest S y yes. there's a darling. I will - t to keep you from l>elng sorry f«r it, even one time." "It • iini'ls enticing," Phllomeua said, tlx :i ■ i:h .i l -ilci "But It can U' done Vou see if 1 ran off will ••• i.the Mannering would inevlt . t the Muc< arty and his millions. Tka what si..- is !., re fat, and that's wh;it I'M bound not to let her do." "11. your .ke." lletherton grum- j Mel. t :. r to draw her to his breast. SI it him away with gentle .1 . \ .• "But It is not a joke. I Th Is\ I am si» provoked with \ ; ourscif be one of her bait guds - oil. she's a shrewd piece— I si,.- knows a man like the MacCartby i. . n- .j> , a wife as he has picked a rt s'.title, from among those other n • 'i want very much." •||.i .» vou know?" lletherton de tuanled. r opened her eyes very vi. \VI In* till me so," she said. • \ i know we !• ;-reat friends and 1 talk 112 u t! > t! And he Is really j raatlj entertaining such a big bulk of tii nature, with stre.iks of > tln-r -treaks of understand _ 'iifiiiiih It- honest ignorance." II : Vou are somewhat a lielle. j II \ ti:nes has he proposed to vnii?" lletherton asked. vie the tir-t day." Philomena >-. i ■!. si liits wickedly. "1 asked time fur :•'ration, but he wouldn't give ; t Me wanted a straight yes or no. 1 me by telling me that if j • 11• twhile lie was not engaged he ild s- e me another chance. So I j ■ i!~t be rare and make up my mind. I kieiw ! - not engaged, not unless I M 1 This I is lamleil him since morning." i nitid made up?" lletherton teasingly. 1"! ! m.eti; shook her head, but said I■ . tl .Vot yet Still, there's no t.-lli ■ I t iit.'t \ hapiten between "it v „ refuse tny olan ami everything?" lletherton salil, paling I ' i i'-na shot a glance at him and faintly. ' ut said, with an nc • -.-tit gentle pr m, 'Why. I <li«L that s .r «■ time agn." • ',l ' slit t je Mannering wo >i • . M ur Vou would not ' ! : :e," lletherton u 1 .rt. malicious a novice from wli. r v ho knows the i t i "surd luip as an Im ..t: :itf " -!se said. - teeth. "Gotxlby." . I.ii ;ly above his breath, hold- I' lii 1 • icna l<Mik»Hl at v and a I.eil, "Where are t i the devil ni'ist k- . " l.e answeretl recklessly. I.- • pti '. 'ii, ti'legrani f>»r you, sir," t . . . i l.i 'luing to the pair with i ycOnw i his tray. I open, ilsnrrel at its , i,t. then food twisdnf It be tween bta llngera and nHn| an odd, l-ti.ed smile After a long breath he , I hiloniena in his arms and kissed her. sitjing in her ear: "I khi stusl your friend. I'm a • tr, or hall he In two hours more. That wm a i-ail for BWfgbM I can no more put up 111■ i:i 1 t .tn tly I've been spei-ul:-' _ v. ildly I wanted you so badl> I thimght I must offer you mll ilons no I- - than myself I'ntll totlay th. \ wen .-.i 111 i. j (map That was why I dared. But I'm losing every thing at once." "Not quite," she said, dinging to him, her eyes shining up at him through a uilst of tears. "You may have me, If you lose everything else. I'm not afraid of poverty if I may ] have love." "Seems like it's time l took a hand in this game," a throaty voice said be hind them, and there stood the Mac- Carty, very red, and all over perspira tion. lie had been ambushed all the while in the summer house outside which the lovers stood. "You folks think list'nin' ain't the right thing," he went on. "No more it ain't, but I waked from a nap as you were in the midst o' talkin', and it didn't take ten words to show me the lay o' the land. I like the lay of it. The little lady thai - ," nodding toward Philomena, "has got me doped out fine and pat, but she didn't make sport of the old galoot. She said it in sport, but she j lias looked out fer me. And tnore'n that, she's made me understand thar was at least one woman money j couldn't buy. You ain't half good I enough fer her," this to lletherton with I a chuckle. "Hut since it appears she likes the looks o' ye, be hanged If you're a goin' to take her and try love in a oottage. At least, not onless the cottage's got all the flxin's. No need to tell me how you stand. I ain't quite out o' the market if I am up here in the mountains, eourtln' and rusticatin". If you need inargius, I know the rea- ' son why. (io risht straight to the tele phone. I'll lie along o' ye; together we'll get the straight o' things down to a dot over my private wire. I'm goin' to see you through If It takes one million or even two. Rut when you are through you git married and keep out of sech messes." "I will," lletherton said, holding out his hand. Before tho MacCarty could take it Philomena flung herself between them, threw her arms about Ills thick neck and kissed him on both cheeks. "You're an angel elephant," she mur mured. "I shall love you always, no matter what he says," with a nod toward lletherton. "lie says. 'Amendment accepted,"' lletherton said, wringing tho Mac- ; Carty's hand. That gentleman laughed apologetical ly, but returned the grip heartily, and said as he puffed away with lletherton at his elbow: "It takes jest an angel elephant to skeer the bulls and bears good and hard." Women of Anrlrnt Home. "We are assured by Seneca," says the historian Inge, "that there were women In ancient Rome who counted their ages not by their j ears, but by the husbands they had had. Juvenal tells of one woman who hud married eight husbands in live years. Divorce was i granted on the slightest pretext. Many separated merely from love of change, j disdaining to give any reason, like iUmlUus Paulus, who tokl his friends ! that 'he knew best where his shoes j pinched him.' Rich wives were not much sought after by wise men. Their complete emancipation made them dif- \ licult to manage. Accordingly, since both rich and poor wives were objec- : tlonable, the large majority of men 1 never married at all. In most cases a j Roman bridegroom knew practically nothing of his wife's character until : after marriage. Marriage for the Ro man woman meant a transition from | rigid seclusion to almost unbounded liberty. She appeared as a matter of course at her husband's table whether he had company or not. She could go where she liked, either to the temples of j Isis and Serapls or to the circus and amphitheater. She had her own troops of slaves, over whom she ruled without interference." WATERLOO. Gronchf Wn* Solely to niam* Foi the Dow II fa iI of Napoleon. Napoleon would have won the battl* j i>f Waterloo had Grouchy prevented j the junction of the Prussians with the English arniv, because he would uoi bare had to light two battles at once Few'persons realize that the so called battle of Waterloo was in reality 8 double battle, somewhat like Jena and ' Aoerstadt. Napoleon fought one bat tie at Waterloo against the English. On the arrival of the Prussians he was forced togo In person toward Planehe nolt and there fight another battl* against the Prussian army, leaving tc Ney the conduct of the troops at Wa terloo. It Is a well known maxim li war that a very great or decisive vie • tory cannot be gained unless one com ' mander makes a serious blunder ol J which the other takes Immediate ad | vantage. It Is very evident that the fact of the emperor having to flghl two battles at once instead of concen tratiug his attention ou one alone enor mously increased the possibility of e mistake. Moreover, Napoleon did nol have the able lieutenants of his formei campaigns. liesaix, Kleber, Lannes and Bessleres were dead, Massena and Macdonald had taken the oath of alle giance to the Bourbons, and Murat had Hx>llt with the emperor. Napoleon'f personal attention was therefore im pemtlve. To Grouchy alone all blame must be attributed, for had he prevent ed the union of the Prussians with the English the emperor would have had to light only one battle at a time and could have given his entire persona attention to that one battle. In tiie second place. Napoleon would \ not have been forced to tight with 71, ' lt-17 men against two armies numbering about J 25,000—nearly two to one; against him. He would have had 71, 017 good soldiers pitted against a raw undisciplined army of 07,001 men un j der the IMike of Wellington, which was not only inferior in mere numbers, but' far Inferior In morale and experience I The chances would have been greatlj in favor of tho French. Then, too, the | French army was commanded by the acknowledged master of modern war fare, who«e brilliant successes at Rl-! vol!. Marengo, Austerlltz, Jena, Fried land. Wagram. tho Borodino and Fires den had dazzkd tho whole world. T'n til then Napoleon had never been de feated In any great decisive battle ex cept Lelpsic, and the French were strong in tlieir confidence of the em peril's succe Two of Hie best writ «rs 1,11 the Waterloo campaign, Shaw Kennedy and Sibourne, both English me:!, concur in saying that had Grouchy kept the Prussians away the English army would have been badly beaten. This view Is also held by the ablo<?1 writer of all, .Mr. Ro|»es.—United Serv ice Review. fiin l.iiM|u<*nee. The curate of a country parish lately preached a charity sermon, and the coll.- -lion which followed amounted to C'-'o 7s. I'/l. In the vestry after the service the church wardens counted It out «nd mentioned the result. "Well," said the reverend preacher, "I must have preache | pretty well to get all that." "No doubt you did, sir," replied one of the church wardens who had been collecting, "but the squire put In a £lO note, and he's deaf."—London M;j!l Trespassers By C. B. LEWIS i ipuright, IfJii, hi/ E ('• I'arcell.i When Captain Ben Golden retired from the sea and bought a place on the Connecticut shore he made only care loss inquiries as to who were Ills neigh bors As a matter of fact, he did not rare. As lie explained It: "I ain a man as attends to my own busiuess and expect other folks to at tend to theirs. I shall have a house keeper nnd ii servant and live very quietly. My nephew, George I.ee, may | come down from the city now and then to stay over Sunday, but that's all the company I shall have." I Two weeks later, in buying and tak- I Ing possession of the property adjoin ! Ing Captain Golden's on the west, the i purchaser, who was a man of sixty ami rather crusty, had said to those who sold to him: "I don't care who lives around here. All I want of them Is to mind their | own business and let me mind mine. If I catch any of them trespassing on my land they won't do it a second time. I shall live here quietly, with my niece ! to manage the house." There were no fences dividing tho property, but for the first few weeks rapt i Golden and Mr. Bingham, who w::< tii.' man with the niece, were too In \ to wall: abroad much. They saw e.tch ol'.i ".- from a distance, but made i:o o: 11 t to get acquainted. One day 1 th -y were tramping through the shrub ' be: v near the dividing line and came face to face I'.oth were there for the same ii ij. e: Kneli one of them had been thin).lng of putting up a lino i fonc ■ to si. ii the other out. There was 1 some eusiia: n.ssnient for a moment, and then Captain Golden, being the | more jovial of the two, called out: "Good day. neighbor; glad to meet | you." "Good day, sir," replied the other as he drew himself up in an icy manner. "Being we a. 1 " neighbors"— "We are n»t neighbors, sir. You sim | ply happen to live near me. That Is no ~"> V, J "YOO ARK AT LEAST ForUTEEN INCHES ON MY LAND." excuse, however, for j'oti to trespass on my property." "Who's a tre-passing?" "You are, sir. The line runs this I side of that beech, and you are at least fourteen inches on my land." "Then I'll set off your land, right J off!' exclaimed the captain, as he be gan to bristle up. "Yes, sir, I'll get off—l am off—and if you are that sort of a man I warn you not to set foot on my property." "I will be careful not to. I will see about a fence at once." "I shall also see about it at once." "I shall build the fence." "Sir." said Mr. Bingham, "I forbid you to put up a fence here!" "And I forbid you!" There was further emphatic and even violent language, and they finished up by almost threatening the shotgun in case of further trespass. When Mr. Bingham reached his house his face [ was so red an 1 his manner so per turbed that his niece, Miss Jennie Gray, was forced to take notice of it and ask If he had been attacked by tramps. He thereupon explained what had occurred, favoring Ids side of the case as much as possible, and con eluded with the declaration: "I am not going to let that old brute of u sailor bluff me, and If you let him scare you off you are no niece of mine." "I've taken a great liking to rambling through that shrubbery," replied tho niece, "and now I've got to be very, very careful not to get even one toe I over the line." "You go right ahead and ramble just where you want to, line or uo line, 1 and if that old lump of salt says any i thing to you make faces at him. I told lilra I'd build a fence, but I won't. He ' may build one and pay for It. It's curious how the Lord lets some folks continue to live." Miss Jennie Gray nail lived with her uncle long enough to know how hot headed and irascible he was and that If there had been any trouble he had done his full share In provoking It. But i she also felt It her duty to stand by | him, right or wrong More than that, she also felt it her duty to trespass up on Cnptalu Gol Jen's laud because tres passers had been forbidden. T! e old sailor was also In an angry moo 1 when l.e reached his house, but he did not explain matters to his house keeper. He waited until his nephew came down, a week later, and then he told the story and added: "George, I don't want no trouble with anybody, but if that old fossil drives me to the wall I shall drive him under ground. I ild I'd build a fence, but 1 w >n't do it. He can build and pay for it if Me wants to. I've warned him 1 to keep off my land, and if he don't tlo it" l.ee, l.ee, civil engineer, had a win: ! i t for his bluff old uncle, and !l was only natural that he should espouse his cause. He arrived at the house on Saturday evening, and soon after breakfast Sunday morning he set out for li ' shrubbery with o cigar In his mo'iih mid a cane In his hand to look the ;; uind over. He found n belt of shrubs .-i nl trees about forty rods wide an i esiendlng from the highway back tot! >ii no. He could walk there and al:. t > nagine himself in a forest. The ground was dear of any tangle, and the whole thing was a happy thought < air ed out between neighbors. Young Mr. Lee had left the house 1 roofing oniewnat belligerent, out tie lost li all soon after entering the grate ful shade. A rabbit ran nway, squirrels chattered at him, and he caught sight of birds' nests among Hie branches. It was a place of good will and peace, and he was feeling so when lie heard a suspicious noise on the other side of a heap of brush lately cut and stacked. 110 thought lie heard the movements of a man. If It was a man he was a tres passer. If he was a trespasser ha must be sent about his business. "Iley, yon, beyond the brush, what are you doing there?" called tlie young man. There was no answer, but he heard a movement lie advanced and gave the lx-ap a whack with his cano and shouted: "Come out and show yourself, you skulker!" Tl* skulker made no response. The silence aggravated Mr. Lee, nnd. draw ing his cane up to his face like a gun, he continued: "if you don't come out of that before 1 count (en I'll lire a charge of buck shot into the brush." "You'd better not!" replied a voice that Jumped him a foot high, and ho circled around the heap to find a young lad\ standing there with a freshly gathered bouquet In her hand. lie looked at her with open eyes and mouth. She looked at him with her chin stuck out and a glint of defiance < In her eyes. "Good I .ol d, but you really must ex- j cuse me!" •; sped Mr. Lee after a long minute. "You can no ahead nnd shoot now," j replied the girl. "Hut i I didn't think to find a wom an—a girl—here." "No. Neither did I think to find a young man ready to do murder. Do you l;i ow that you are a trespasser, sir? You are on my uncle's land, and as his ropn -e itative 1 warn you off. The dividing line is two feet behind you." Mr. Lee slowly moved over the line, and his 1":: ■ • I—trayod such astonish ment and perp! vitv that the girl could not prevent a smile. "Can can I say anything to explain this unfortunate occurrence?" he beg ged." '•v-otii!:,.' except that you wanted to ? hoot me.'' "I'.ut you ! now 1 didn't. You know that I ha 'n't the slightest idea of your presence. 1 cam:* out here to—to"— "To shoot my uncle. I infer that you are stoppi: • wiih the sailor and. hear ing of the 1 ;!• di pute of a few days ago, you vol■ i- -ere 1 your services as assassin. Very kind of you. I'm sure." Mr. Lee looked at the girl In a help less way. II • didn't believe there were words enoiv: i in the English language to set hiiii r: lit.and yet If felt a great longing to !>■ for-riven. She maintain ed a saucy, acen ;i:i: front for a minute and then melted enough to say: "I se ■ my uncle coming In search of me, and if you do I't slay him you may o;;i! do things to his satisfaction.** A track I; ' in v otild have made it a LiO to 1 "<l!o; ::ua!:ist, but he would have t. It tool; a year and more to do it.and ther» was Captain Golden to p! N"M • ide e. but the "assassin" has bccoi • :i d". >:ed hmband and the "skulker" : loving wife. :::id the two old men . •inn in arm through the shrubbery ami timl no for quar reling. THE REAL LINCOLN. Slf* WIIN V»t llonifl), untl Ho Wm \ot Slovenly In Drew*. For many ; 'irs It has been the fash ion to call Mr. Lincoln homely. lie WHS very tall and very thin. His eyes ! were deep sunken, his skin of a sallow pallor, his h.iir coarse, black and un ( mly. Yet !■" was neither ungraceful | nor awk- a: I nor ugly. His large fea tures fitted his large frame, and his i hirge hands and feet were but right on : a body that measured six feet four Inches. was a sad and thoughtful face, and from boyhood he had carried n load of <ar •. It is small wonder that when alone or absorbed in thought the face should ! ake tin deep lines, the eyes appear in if - 'dug something beyond tli" vision of other men and the shoul ders stoop «ts though they, too, wero bearin? a weight. But In a moment nil would he changed. The deep eyes could flash or twinkle merrily with hu mor or look out from under overhang lug brow-; ; they did upon the Five Points children in kindliest gentleness. So, too, in public speaking, when his tall body ro.e to it - full height, with head thrown back and his face trans figure;! v. iiit the fir'- and earnestness of tii> thought, lie would answer Doug las in the h gh, clear tenor that came to him in tli'» lie: i: of debate, carrying his Ideas so fir out o-er listening crowds. An 1 later, during the years of war, when he pronounced with noble gravity the words of his famous ad dresses, not one in the ihrougs that heard him could truly say that lie was other than a handsome man. It has been the fashion, too, to say that he was slovenly and careless in his dress. This also is a mistake. His clothes could not fit smoothly on his gaunt and bony frame. He was no tailor's figure of a man, but from the first he clothed himself as well as his mean# allowed ai. 1 in the fashion of the time and place. In read ins the ; rotes-pie stories of his boyhood, of the tall stripling whose trousers left « d osed a length of shin, It must lie r< lembered not only how poor he was, but that he lived on the frontier, where other boys, less poor, were scarcely better clad. In Vandalia the blue jeans he wore were the dress of bis companions as well, and later, from Springfield days on, clear through his presidency, bis costume was the usual suit, of black broadcloth, careful ly made and scrupulously neat. lie eared nothing for style. It did not matter to him whether the man with whom ne talked wore a coat of the latest cut or owned no coat at all. It was tinman inside tiie coat that In j terested him. Helen N'icolay in St. j Nicholic. Coltsfoot or the leaves of lettuce, be ing slightly narcotic, would form a harmless make believe for the good ' folk who persuade themselves that | they could not leep a wink were they deprived of tli> r evening comfort Ages ago both Creeks : ud Romans, ac cording to I >ioscorhl sand Pliny, found comfort in smoking through n : reed or pipe the dried leaves of colts foot, which relieved them of old ' coughs un.l difficult breathing. And as to Icttuee, it lias been famous since ! the time of Colon (Claudius Gnlenus) who nsser!-; tb >t It • 112 >un<? reli 112 froir j sleeple -Jlie ! I : ; g it at lligllt. Mother r.artli'w t 011. I Force oui-elvt ln»w we will to leat | a strained 1111,1 Mural life, we car I never < i; 'i 'y us >.l to it. It is never lice Is a yearn In; for the MIII| '«■ life, for the natura life. and. foi most of us, country life \Ye want to el Mother Earth, tc breathe the lie !i air, to drink In thr beauties of flower, of field, of moun tain and ■>! s inset, which never tin or pall upon the mind. Ficbange. I WITHOUT | license! £ By EDITH M. DOANE j< Copyright, Hffl, •») W. It. Caldwell | There was such excitement In Four Corners as had not been known In that small settlement for many a day. The quail on the Cornish estate were protected l>y the game laws from April to September and by Dawson, the gamekeeper, at all times, yet one May morning found I »an O'Connor in the Cornish preserves with a brace of quail at his belt, whereupon Dawson, BUinmonlii; the sheriff from Windsor Bend, had promptly arrested O'Connor and jailed him. Such a thing had never happened be fore In the history of Four Corners, and public feeling ran high. A crowd had gathered at the one store the place boasted, and their muttered threats finally merged into open defiance. "I heerd that Dawson had kinder got his eye on a couple more o' tho boys," I hinted old man Plerson. A ruffianly looking fellow leaning against the counter looked np with a | heavy scowl. "He'd better look out tho boys don't | get their eyes on him first," he growled savagely. "A few birds more or less ain't noth- j In' to make a fuss over nohow," put In , a tall, lank fellow behind the stove. "He's got to look fer a little shoot- In'," mumbled old man I'lerson. The hard faced fellow against the counter straightened up and moved slowly toward the door. "He might '8 1 "HIST, MISS MOLLY, HIST !" SAID A VOICE. well look for it; it's comin' to him," he i said menacingly as he slouched heavily from the ro mi. The rougher element of Four Corners were ;, -e I to depending upon their rifles to eke out an • > i fence, meager enough at best, and in the lifetime of old Mr. ; Cornish, the 112 >m er owner of the great estate, the'.* depredations had been practically unchecked, but now a new 1 order of thi :•» pr> ailed. Old Mr. Cor ' nisli was d -ad, and the villagers re garded the • who had succeeded lilin ! i with sus|ili >:> and the gamekeeper he ' J had appointed with sullen hatred. The villa L'OM were not alone in their disapproval o - Dawson. ' "You are I :akin;; a mistake in ap p »lnting h: < the doctor's daughter 1 had declared, her brown eyes resting 1 on the tall y n m beside her. "I don't ■ • » why," Robert Cornish ' had retnriie | stubbornly. "Something ' lias to be to preserve the game. : These fei! c are a lawle s set, shoot- ing in seas hi :iii< 1 out and ruining tlio preserves. **l ;des" his voice rung de terminedly "it is n:y property." ••yc.-i." she admitted, "and yet they have so little it doesn't seem quite fair tliey slui!: 1 have no rights." "Hut i i villlng they should do a certain jus • of hunting," lie pro teste!. '•n!. liiey must observe tho me lav i'nd they must also realize that it is my pi >perty, not theirs." "Do they l:n nv you will allow them a cert:'.'!) amo it of game?" Hubert (' *ii ii sli Mtk Ills head. "Not yi t. Dawson advised cutting them oIT *>: irt until they learn to realize the es tate is r • property. When tfiey i. . ' 1 ! •: Is a privilege, not a right, they will give less trouble." Molly slunk her head doubtfully. "I know ♦hem better than you do," she said. They are lawless and Ig norant, taw there is more good in them than you believe, and Dawson Isn't the man to deal with them. I wish you would talk to them your self." she went on. There was a brief silence. "I will if you wish," he said impul sively. "1 will do it tomorrow." lint on the morrow two unforeseen thin - :s h n > ;■ 1. Uobert Cornish was railed suddenly nwnv on n?i nrrent KILL,th« COUCH and CURE the LUNGS wit " Dr. King's New Discovery _ /Consumption Price FuR I OUGHS and 50c&$1.00 Free Trial. H Surest and Quickest Cure for all I THROAT and LUNG TROUB- I LES, or MONEY BACK. Hi M! A, Flellabl® TIN SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne and Cenaral Job Work. Stov©», Heaters, RinfM. Furnaces. «to- PRIMS THE LOWEST! QL'ILITV TUE BEST! JOHN HIXSON NO. 116 £. FRONT ST. business trop and Dan O'Connor 1 »ar»- ged the quail. It was the evening after the excited discussion at the store that Molly, prompted by an unusual feeling of restlessness, crossed the room to the window and, stepping out on the ve randa, wandered down into the moonlit garden. Robert Cornish would l>e back that night, but of course it was no "ague hope of meeting him that bright ened her eves or led her through the gai:> into th • road, made light as day by the full noon overhead. "Hist. Mhs .Molly, hist!" said a voice close at her ear She starter! violently as a small, uu kfinpl figure crept through the hedge ai.l Mopped short In her path. "i in.! t goon. miss." said the boy, vii i iiic'i i A<-iteinent. "Don't! They ;i v. aitin' fer Dawson below, an' i: n> th y might do ye some harm." • Vv'aiting? For what? To shoot h: nV" asked the girl breathlessly. Yes miss. The wagon has gone to Wiii'l •>!• 1 lend to meet him, an' when i: ..rr.es back well, they're waitin', . . down in the hollow." .• ,tit -n't Dawson the wagon has > t > s ii t." said Molly in a horrl . I ■ :.ls;»er. "It Is Mr. Cornish." i • nes-; i; won't make no difference t > th •!;!, miss, whether it's Dawson or the master himself. They're bent on bit. . i " 'i !: • boy fi.ii'ied through the hedge, leaving the jjrl, white and horrified. In the middle of the road. For a mo ment she stood as if stunned. Then her mind leaped riotously to the chance ot escape. "If I can reach the Windsor road through the cross path," she thought desperately, "I may be in time." She turned through a broken gap in the hedge, into a field beside the road, and, breaking into a quick run, rushed through the wet srrass into the thicket, over a high bank, Into a tangle of blackberry hushes, whose thorns clutched at '• -r light dress, through another gap. across a wall, whose stones slipped and slid''finder her feet, on again, lightly, swiftly, through a plowed field, across a diteh, over a marsh where her slippered feet sank deep in the soft, wet sod, still onward, with a passionate thankfulness In her h< art as she heard the distant ring of horses' hoofs. Could she reach him? "Robert! Robert!" she crieu desper ately. 'llie sounds came nearer. A light road cart swung swiftly toward her. "Robert!" she cried again. Then, as a tall young man In the cart pulled up his horses sharply, she sank, spent and breathless, beside the Windsor road. **•»•#• The excitement had largely been a matter of misunderstanding, and when ! young Cornish had explained his plan of sharing the game, and, furthermore, had refused to prosecute the ringlead ers of the disturbance, Four Corners was with him to a man. It Is hard to say which of his two next moves—his marriage to Molly or his appointment of Dan O'Connor to the position of gamekeeper—evoked the more admiration. "Each av 'em beln', so to speak, a * stroke o' genius," mumbled old man ■ Pierson. Once there was a man who thought Russell Sage ought to stop work. He spoke to him about it. "Why get to gether any more money, Mr. Sage? You can't eat it; you can't drink 1L What good will it do you?" "Ever play marbles?" Uncle Russell asked. "Yes, when I was a boy." "Couldn't eat 'em, could you? Couldn't drink 'em, could you? No use to you, were they? What did you play marbles for?" Harper's. Tlio Rmull of Kn vlronment. "I saw the oddest freak the othei day."says the man with the hones* eyes and the trustworthy face. "A three leurged cat?" we ask, smil itig. "No. It was a chicken that had fur instead of feathers." "I'.ir?" • Yes !; s Patched from a cold s: •. . . .. 1 e. The Home Paper 1 of Danville. Of course you read i i mi«., \\ * i 1 THE nEOPLE!S \ pOPU L AR I APER. .. j i Everybody Reads St. ! >l Publisher l;verv Except I Sunday r.' ■ I No. ii E. Maht ngSt. I II L J KILLED THE LAUGH. The Story of il»e Prayer I u Rnn*ini*i "Mose in Kgitto." The sublime prayer of the Hebrews, when preparing to cross the Red sea, Is, perhaps, one of the most solemn and majestically grand compositions that <-an be found in the choral reper tory. yet, at the 'ante time, simple to a degree. This was an afterthought of the composer and was not intro duced until the second season of the ,iro(luction of "Mose In Egitto" at Na ples. 'I lie opera then, as; now, terminated with the passage of the lted sea by the Israelites; I tit. although the audi ences were entranced with the music, they invariably saluted the passage of the lied se.i with peals of laughter, owing to want of skill of the machin ist and scene | aiuter, who contrived to render this p irtion of the affair su perbly ridiculous and brought down the curtain amid uproarious mirth. Rossini exhibited his usual indiffer ence, but poor Tottola, the poet, was driven nearly crazy by this unwel come termination of his literary la bors an I intensely chagrined at the idea of so sacred a subject exciting laughter. This lasted throughout the first season; tlie next it was repro duced with similar brilliant success (0:1 the fir. i for the music, and similar laughter at the end of the op era. The next day, while Kosslni was indulging in his usual habit of lying in bed and gossiping with a room full of friends, in rushed Tottola, In a most excited state, crying out: "Eviva, I have saved the third act!" "How?" asked ltossini lazily. "Why," replied Tottola, "I have written a prayer for the Hebrews be fore crossing the dreadful lied sea, and I did it all in one hour." "Well," said Rossini, "if it has taken you an hour to write this prayer I will engage to make the music for it in a quarter of the time. Here, give me pen and ink," saying which be jumped out of bed, and in ten minutes he had composed the music without the aid of a piano and while his were laughing and talking around Idm. Thus, owing to the blundering igno rance of a stage carpenter and scene painter, the world is indebted for the most sublime preghiera ever penned. Night came. The audience prepared to laugh as usual when the Red sea scene came, but when the new prayer commenced deathy silence prevailed, every note was listened to with rapt attention, and on its conclusion the entire audience rose en masse and cheered for several minutes, nor did they ever again laugh at the passage "t the Red sea, T A( KAWANNA RAILROAD. * -BLOOMSBURG DIVISION Delaware, Lackawanna and Wester r Railroad. In Effect Jan. 1, 1905. TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE EASTWARD. 7.07 a. m.daily tor Bloomsburg, Kingston Wilkes-Barre aud Seranton. Arriving S«?r:ui ton at 9.42 a. m„ and connecting at ScrautoL with trains arriving at Philadelphia at "t.4K a. m.and New York City at a.30 p. m. 10.19 a. 111. weekly for Bloomsburg, Kingston, Wi 1 kes-Barre, .Seranton and intermediate sta tions, arriving at Seranton at 12.85 p. m.and connecting there with trains for New York City, Philadelphia and Bufl'alo. 2.11 weekly forßloomsburg.Klngston.Wilksk Barre, Seranton and intermediate stations, - arriving at Seranton at 4.50 p. m. > 5.43 p. n.. daily for Bloomsburg, Espy, I'ly mouth. Kingston, Wiikes-Barre, Pittston, ' Seranton and intermediate stations, arriving 112 at Seranton at ->.25 p. in. andconnecting lliert j with trains arriving at New York City a! 'j.fif. ■ | a- m.,Pli;.adelpeia JO a. m.and Buffalo 7a m. TRAINS ARRIVE AT DANVILLE I 9.15 a. m. weekly from Seranton, I'itiston, Kingston, Bloomsburg and intermediate sta | tions, leaving Seranton at 6.85 a. m., where It connects with trains leaving New Yori City s at 9.80 p. m., Philadelphia at 702 p.m. and ! Buffalo at 10.80 a. m. I 12.44 p. 111. dally from .Seranton Pittston, , Kingston, Berwick, Bloomsburg and interme- I diate stations, leaving Seranton at 10.10 a. m. and connecting there with train leaving Buff alo at 2.25 a. in. I 4.88 p. in. weekly 0111 Seranton. Kingston, ! Berwick. Bloomsburg and Intermediate sta t tlons, leaving Seranton at 1.55 p. m., where it i connects with train leaving New York City ' i at 10.00 a. 111.. and Philadelphia at 9.00 it. 111. I 9.05 p. 111. daily from Seranton. Kingston. ' Pittston, Berwick. Hloonisburg and inter me diate stations, leaving Seranton at 6.85 p.m. 1 where it connects with trains leaving New YorkCityatl.oop.nl., Philadelphia at 12.0» ' p. 111. and Buflolo at 9.30 a. m. ! T. K. CXJAHKE, Uen'i Sup't. T. W. LEE. (Jen. Pass. Agt. I 1 1(1 ill if 11G1L We want in tie aii tills of Printing ?| | _ j|i | L J 11! IIS M. I! nil MB. j irs taint 1 S A well pv:;»U tasty, I>ill < ■ \)/ ter Her 1, I • . A) A Ticket, Cir y,v Program, Si. ment or Caivi (v) an ad vertise;. -. •11 for yom business,a satisfaction to you New Type, lew Presses, Best Paper, Stillei Wort Promptness \W you can ask. A trial will make you our customer. i " We respect full " asl that trial. I 11 ill 11 No. it P. Mahoniiilt r.rxT s
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers