o«o*o*o*o*o*oo*c«o*o«o«o*o • Ordered by 2 § Mail § O O • • O By Troy Allison O • • O 0 • • O i opyrnjht, 11M», b> M. M. (.'uuuiugliaw O • • o*o*o*o«o«o*co* ?o»o«o*o*o Mrs. Johnson. *■ i.iiug unexpectedly Into the dining ro hi. where the new flrl was lay ing tli * cloth for dinner, looked at her with ; sudden Inteutuess. "Haven t you l> •-n crying, Johan nashe asked kindly. "Ach, it iss uot much," the woman said, a refractorj- tear starting down her che« ••it is, that America so strange i ud the city—l the cows mi* ai* . t» gar, en and making the butter .< ." And her exceedingly blond skin turned red with the effort she made to keep the tears from com ing In torreu: s. Mr- J iuison's eyes looked medita tive while •• tried to think what form of comfort io offer. "I'm s.,rry you are homesick; it's an awful feeling; but cheer up," she said sympathetic illy. "I'll give the cook money for theater tickets, and you ••an both ; • to see that spectacular thing the) - y is s > wonderful." Joli.ii.n i liled gratefully. "You so very g> i-»s," slie said us she went toward the kitchen. In the midst of his dinner Mr. John son thought of something and com menced laughing "1 had a most unusual order today from a customer down south He or "1* Jo.. MOM MMB SIMPLY, dered tt whole list of things, then cli luai.-l with 'one wit.* f«»r a widower of thirty tire.'" Mrs Johnson's ey« were wide with uabeix 112. "t'ljarle v ,!.>huson. you cer tahili an* 'king' 'I he man couldn't hm»* !.•»-'! • foolish as to ls» in ear nest'"' "It wan t for himself; it was for a CMMrtr eu-tomer— a young widower wit!, a d I; . farm on his hands that La- b !.g to rack and ruin since lUi \i iie ti.e Mrs Johnson was evidently struck with an Inspiration. •-<»» <•»> i-y, I tow would Johanna dj geste I enthusiastically. *1 think slie n >uld do finely—just Ml! the bill if - ie would go," Mr. .. dubiously Hut if I MKt down a piece of pink ami white yellow haired jierlection as Johanna 1 am afraid I wouhl have au order from every farmer in North Carolina and would I*- for>t*d to ojk-ii a matrimonial bureau." "l#o you know nny ling aliout the wldowtt'f Mr Johnson asked at letigt h ~Ye*. Hayes wrote iae a letter and gate a |*ii p. lure of liis life fr iin the cradle to tl"- _rn • his v. fe's grave," he added, with a «rln appreciative of his mtt. ivs be will abs ihitely vouch for him and that if I can tind a woman ' who is suited to the man he described j It will I* a good thing for her. By Jove. I beliefe Johanna Is the ne plus 1 ultra if sl»e"ll go I'lty she can't talk | twtter English." "oh. her little foreign talk won't I make any differen e. lie ean stand it. | You ««»••. 1 m able to stand your Latin or Freiwrh, whichever it is I can never <ju:te determine fr »m your accent." • •••••• John Burden pulled the horses up under tin- shade of an elm near the door of t;.e ladies' waiting room and handed the reins to his companion, with a sheepish smile. "Hold onto these, Mr Hayes. You got me into this business, and you must help see me through. I»o I look much like a fool?" Martin II ves. dealer in general mer chandise < buek ed as he took the reins. "No, sir. You are the personitleatiou of the gay and festiv • bridegroom ii.it an untie* ess : \ »,gn of fooli-im« > si alcmt you of course, the new suit an I the rosebud i?i your buttonhole are allowable as Itetitting the occasion. \l.fSt suit I had in stoek. old lioy. flop* she'll like It " Harden • i.j.'l his jecktie with uiasy fln-rers "Clad all this Internal tkfllg don't sll iw f>n the outside, metes tn • tram in sight <;ee! Don't believe Hum's i ,-r .|:iv niade as hot as this." lie made his way through the crowd ar nid the de| t ■<l statioiie l himsel' Wher** he .Il ll lg t lIT I I i-\\ of Ml* {(•sseng-rs alighting from the train. Tve been sta d and have travnled I I i.il * Iv life," be coin t hi. Uut if this aiu't i.; I -a teiHxv ,n a novel, 1 never t.i one.'* • ■ >«ept on the I- .kout for a woman .1 •• k i dress an l carry ii a i I Johanna Horsier. S J thus m I i t written that lie would i it ; e , v is printed in large i. - and t t'.; would probably I no trouble . utity In a town v «■ the ii.. - trave ers were few. •i ill.inii i I l" .n. the train, her • w . ,< s |«. a is wondering and as didiltnh ll«ej • Ii«l when she landed ■it Amerl » -iv months Iwfore. She |iaase<| le-tpl - Iv. am! Just then Bur J«-a saw- the t ,-i|ue on the suit case. He l<»okiil at the woman's face- its blond faiine s au unusual style in a southern town and the thermometer •wilted t.» Jump s. veral degrees up ward "She looks ,ike like an angel!" he muttered She will lw disappointed tu me," and In- went to her anxiously and diffidently ■ I'm John Burden lie said simply. "You you did want me to come?" Her voice trembled and he saw tears tn her blue eyes. "Vaut von * W ant vouT* liis tone gained assurance. "Anybody with an ounce of sense would want you to come —and to stay," he said, his face radiant as he took the suit case from her. After the dinner with llayes at the hotel and the quiet marriage ceremony in the hotel parlor they drove the five miles to Burden's farm and reached there just at the beginning of the long summer twilight. Tl<€ c!!:..o".ag rose was in full bloom over the veranda, and a flock of wliife geese wej-e wandering through the gate toward the barnyard. "Do you like it?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. "It is so nun It home." she gasped in her halting English, "even the cows that in the farmyard stand." lie led her into the house and paused before a sweet, clean room whose mus lin curtains blew in and out the open windows. "This is your room," he said simply. "Mine is across the hall, where I can hear if you get afraid and call me." His honest sunburned face was full of kindftess, and although her compre hension of English was limited, slie caught a glimpse of his soul in a lan i guage that is universal. "Take off your L it, little woman. I hear old Jenny putting supper on the ' table." He looked at the pale gold of i her hair where her hat had pressed it | tightly against her moist forehead, and he hesitatingly touched it with his hand . and freed it from her temples. "1 hope you'll feel homelike and will grow to love the farm—and maybe i some time—me," he added timidly. , "I like it all—and you," slie answered softly. THE ANCIENT INCAS. They Knen Neither Idleufvtf Nor ICielien \or Poverty. The flocks of llamas belonged to the ; sun and the Inca. It was death to kill one. At certain seasons of the : year they were collected from the hills ! uud shorn. Large numbers were sent to supply food for the court and to be used at the religious festivals and sac rifices. Male llamas ouly were killed. ! The wo*>l belonged to the Inca and %vas store*! iu the government deposi tories and dealt out according as the people's \\ants required. In this w-ay they were provided with warm cloth- J Ing. When they had worked up enough wool into clothing for themselves they 1 were then employed iu working up | material for the Inca. The distribu tion of the wool and superintendence ' of its manufacture were in the hands of officers appointed for the purpose, j No oue was allowed to be idle. Idle ness was a crime and was severely punished. All the mines belonged to the Inca 1 aud were worked for his benefit. The ! various employments were usually in ; the hands of a few and became heredl- ; tary. What the father was, that the son became. A great part of the agri cultural products was stored in grana ries scattered up and down the couu try aud was dealt out to the people as required. It will thus be seen *hat ; there was no chance for a man to be j come rich, neither could he become j poor. The spirit of speculation had no . existence there. -Chambers' Journal. THE BLACK BALL. A C lever Scheme 'Mini Wan Spoiled In I lie lira %\ liik. Two young men in a French village were called onto draw for conscrip tion. Oue only was wanted to complete the number, aud of the two who were to draw one M as the son of a rich farm er and the other the child of a poor widow. The farmer ingratiated himself with the superintendent of the ballot and promised him a present if he could find means to prevent his son from going 2n the army. In order to accomplish this the official put into the urn two black balls Instead of one white and one black ball. When the young men came, he said: "There are two balls, one black and one white, in the urn. He who draws the black one must serve. Your turn Is first," pointing to the widow's son. The latter, suspecting that all was not fair, approached the urn and drew one of the balls, which he immediately swallowed without looking at it. "Why," said the superintendent, "have you done that?" . How are we to know whether you have drawn a black or a white ball?" "Oh, that's very easy to discover," was the reply. "Let the other now draw. If I have the black, he must necessarily draw the white one." There was no help for it, and the i farmer's son, putting his hand into the ! urn. drew the remaining ball, which, to I the satisfaction of the spectators, was a black one. FREAKS Of THE LAVA. koine I orlnua liii'lilrntH of un Over flow of \ muviu«. At on*' house, which had been entire ly surrounded by the flood, but not de stroyed, one saw people, on top of the mass of lava, entering the upper win dows with a ladder and bringing forth their household goods to transport them to a place of safety. One vine yard was surrounded on three sides by this dividing current, and it was pos sible to walk into it among the lines j of trimmed vines and to perceive the j fire still glowing In the towering walls of lava on each side. The people at tributed thi> remarkable phenomenon to the miraculous Intervention of their Madonna, "Our Lady of the Snows," with whose sacred image they had con fronted the all devouring monster sweeping implacably down on their ap parently doomed homes. Step by step the priests and the faith ful sluging the litauy. retreated as the uwful floo I swept on.and still the sou,el of inghig and prayer rose above the fearful roar of the torrent and the thuud'-r of die mountain aliove, belch- : lug forth from tli ■ central crater fiery 1 bombs and enormous swirls of cinder, Baml and smoke, which rose t<, great heights Yard by yard the lava swept onward. Now a palatial villa would be surrounded by the torrent, crushed down and disappear In smoke; now a weeping peasant would see his little j cottage and vineyard. Ills all, go under In an instant One poor woman was thus watching (lie fate of her earthly belongings from u little eminence when a smaller crater came roaring forth at her very feet. She turned to flee, fell, rolled to the bottom of the little hill, and the next moment the lava flowed forth like the foam from a glass of beer and swept jver the spot where she had Iteen standing an Instant before.—William I*. Andrews in Century. Jury V n* K*i»erlen«•«■«!. "Flatman. I bear you were arrested the other day for Insulting aud brow beating a Janito.. How did you come out ?" "I was trie I r>r it and acquitted." "On tfie gr.itind that It was justifi able?' "N .. the j iy • etlldtft be made to liebeve such i thin; was possible."— . Chicago Tribune. & FOR $2,000 EACH By C. li. LEWIS Copyright, liMi, by Kuby Douglas I Young Jauies Harper, farmer, and Sarah Lee, daughter of another farmer, married for love. They had two or three lovers' quarrels, as was quite on the cards and very natural, but for two i years after marriage no couple ever . lived more happily. This state of af ; fairs might have continued at least two i years longer but for Abuer Jones, Esq., country justice of the peace and j agent for the Farmers' Fire Insurance company, and sewing machines of all makes, bought and sold. lie made his I appearance at the farmhouse one day. "Well, Jim." he said, "what do you and Sarah think? I've got the agency for a life Insurance company and am going to branch out a little. I want to insure the i ot'.i of you. I've got Tom Spooner and his wife. Bill Wheeler and his wife, Silas Johnson and his wife l and sever. 1 others, and I'm here to get j you 1 want you lo take apiece, l!" you die. S uah. Jim has got $2,000 to buy you a monument, pay funeral ex- P :i- sand o away to Niagara Falls lo get ovc his grief. If you die, Jim, Sa, i has gi. money to bury you de • ii.. iid carry «>:i the farm without t:> nsh off and marry again." T.ie sqii w nt iulo further expla | ■ :tlons, i: • talked life Insurance and yeJ to dinner, lie talked life in i:jc • ! stayed to supper. He jta 1 iilV insurance and stayed until j 9 o'. io . i'l the eve.ling. Then he [ dr ;iiA two .losses of cider, ate three fried cakes and a piece of mince pie ! and went home to make out two poli cies fo • ' *'•» each. Jim anil .'.irali had decided that such : Insurance vas a good thing. Neither wanted to •. but if death must come they would not be seltish about It. It would be a bond to draw them still closer to ether. Iu the course of a couple ot weeks the policies were de livered.the premiums paid, and Squire Jones stayed to dinner again and said as he finished and wanted to lick his plate, but remembered his dignity In time: "Now. then, young folks, this is the best thing you have doue so far in your lives. Keep on 1 jving. keeping up your premiums they fall due, and don't worry about the future. With S2,iH)U coming to the survivor iu case of death you nee.iu't either of you begrudge the Astors or Yaiiderbilts. Sarah, you can dress la the most expensive mourning, aud Jim, you can wear patent leather shoes and hear Niagara roar till you get tired of it." It was Squire Jones who was respon sible for the Insurance, but it was Aunt Deborah who was responsible for what resulted. The policies had been care fully laid away In the bottom bureau drawer and the subject talked out when Aunt Deborah came visiting one afternoon. She had not been invited, nor was she expected, but she proceed el to make herself at home, and by and by announced: "Sarah, 1 have heard that you and James have had your lives insured for each other's benefit, but I told 'em you were not the woman togo into any thing like that." "But we have," replied Sarah. "Wt were insured two weeks ago." "Upon u y soul! No one could have made me believe it." "But why? What's the matter." "Sarah Harper, do you know that yoti have the same as doomed yourself to death?" asked Aunt Deborah, in a hoarse whisper. "What do you mean, Aunty?" "I mean that there isn't a man on the lace of this earth who wouldn't kill liis wife for the sake of $2,000 in cash. That insurance is a temptation to mur der. Hundreds of wives have been killed off every year, and you will be one of them togo before another year rolls over your head." The young wife laughed merrily at the idea, but Aunt Deborah grew more solemn and serious, and said: "Don't 112 »ol yourself, Sarah. Jim is just a g»o 1 a husband as any of 'em, but you have put temptation in his way. Ile'll be thinking of them $2,000 :.I1 the time, and the longer he thinks the easier It will come for him to murder you. Two thousand dollars in cash and you out of the way so that he can marry again is more'u he can stand up under. 1 shan't be a bit sur prised any day to hear that you have been found murdered. Squire Jones ought to be prosecuted for coaxing you into such a thing, and I'll tell him so before the week is out." Sarah continued to laugh and make fun at the idea, and it was finally dropped to take up soft soap and car pet rags. When she set about getting supper Aunt Deborah made a sneak outdoors and caught the husband as he came up from the cornfield. "Well," she began, after he greeted her. "you want Sarah to chop you up with the a\" or pour melted lead In your ears, I see?" "What is it, aunty?" "It ; that life insurance. Henry Har per. I'm astonished at you. Do you know how many wives killed their husbands last year to get the insur ance'-" "A million perhaps, but Sarah Isn't going to kid me." "Time will tell. James: time will tell. Sarah is sweet and lovely and inno cent. but when there's $2,000 at stake who can tell what a woman will do? With tliis farm and all that money be hiud her if she was a widow she cau catch a better looking man than you." The goo I nature*] young man con 'li. '•ad at the supper table if' I-', -h I with him as they > !ii 1 Aun* Deb >r.ih. but the old lady c »nl i!"'d to shake her head and re ply "V> tit till ih" ax or the melted lead '.ret ' . > <rk an.l then we'll see whether the • is anything to laugh at or not." ii it night at midnight Sarah woke up with her heart beating rapidly. She was ab nit 1 i nu I ,-e Henry with her el-, bow when a su-l leu thought came tn her Aunt Deli nah's grewsome predlc ' o came up, and she wondered If she II aw aliened by s uite move on j her hi: ii ind'-. part some move to take • ■ ■ the throat. She smiled at first, ■i.ily ;he smile faded away. I.i killed that the hus baii I might profit by the Insurance. | A;r t Deborah was always predicting,: hut i the sin e time many of her pre- ' dieii . I i| ■ iii* true She knew that Henrj loVe I h t with a great love, but i ;iI . inmi. ior an ifour sh* lay awake an I thought, and the longer j she thought the more miserable she was j . i it had only fallen into a troubled I sleep en tlie ilng barked and Henry j awn! He did not get up for fear of I disturbing hi . wife, and after listening I ' i the dor; for a few minutes t_. 1 thought ol Aunt Heboran s predictions aud solemn face caine to his mind. He grlnue.l at the idea of Sarah kill iiig him off for that $2,000, and yet he began to recall eases where wives had done that same thing. She could pusli him into the well, push Win dywn the cellar stairs or dispose of him in other ways to enable her to escape detection and with that $2,000 she would be a rich widow, and windmill men, wire feuee men, piano agents aud men with patent farm gates would tumble ovei each other t > ask for her hand. She might not even put a $lO headstone at his grave. There was constraint between them when the couple woke up next morning They tried t > make out that there wasn't, but realized that there was. Sarah claimed to have a headache, and James said lie had a touch of rheuma tism. At noon when the husband came up from the field he had l*;en thinking things over and almost wished he had turned Aunt Deborah out of the house. She was a meddlesome, gossipy old thing, and he would let nothing she had said annoy him In the least. Sarah had als > been thinking, and about Ihe same thoughts, and so there was a return «.f love and confidence. It did not list thirty-six hours, how ever. Ileury had to sharpen the ax, aud Sarah saw him at it and felt that he was contemplating a crime. Sarah asked If the handle of a table knife could not be made fast by a little melted lead, and Ileury said to him ! self after answering her question: "Ah, ha! Got melted lead on her ' mind, has she? Well, I've got to look j out for my ears." For the next four weeks the pair were hypocrites toward each other. ! They dissembled aud deceived. They thought black thoughts of each other. ' James wanted to sleep in the barn o' nights, and Sarah wanted togo home and tell her mother all about II Things were hastening on toward a separation when, as they sat on the veranda one night after supper, say ing little, but thinking a great deal, farmer Joe Collins came driving along and halted to say: "Say, you f.-lks heard the news?" "No. What is it?" "It'll take your breath away " "liut let's have it." "Wall, that life insurance company you are injured in lias busted taigher'n Gilroy's kite!" "Oh. James!" "Oh, Sarah!" And as they went dancing around the veranda in eaeh other's arms Mi Collins looked at them in astonish ment and said to himself: "By Ccorge, I ut they seem to be durned glad of it!" And so they were. A Little MlNiinilerNtantlluK, "A young lady I I now," said ijii Englishman, " ;ot married last year In London and had only been keeping house a week or two when a cousin in the country sent h-r a brace of pheasants. Some people like to 'liang' pheasants—to keep them a week or two, lettinr them get 'high,' on the ground that tin? fresh flesh is tough and stringy. The cook knew this, but her young ni'stress knew nothing pos i I. cly nothing—of cooking. "'l'lease. ina'am.' said the cook when the pheasants" arrived, "do you like the birds 'lghV '" 'The bird's eye?' said the mistress, puzzled. " 'What 1 mean, ma'am,' the cook ex plained, 'is that some folks likes their birds stale.' '""The tail?' repeated the mistress, more puzzled than ever. "And then, in order not to appear ig norant. in the cook's eyes, she smiled brightly and said: " 'Prepare the birds, please, with the eyes and the tail both.' " DEATH BY A BOMB. liiniKiiiiir> of Ihe Crimean War by Tolstoi. The following imaginary incident of the Crimean war is found in Count Tol fctoi's "Sevastopol: Ihe bomb, com ing faster and faster aud nearer and nearer, so that the sparks of its fuse were already visible, descended. 'Lie down!' some one shouted. They lay flat on the ground. I'raskouhin, closing his eyes, heard only the bomb crashing down on the hard earth close by. A second passed, which seemed an hour. The bomb had not exploded. He open ed his eyes and at that moment caught 112 sight of the glowing fuse of the bouih riot a yard <>lf. Terror, cold terror, ex cluding every other thought and feel ing, seized his whole being. He covered his face with his hands. "Then he remembered the 12 rubles he owed, a debt in St. Petersburg that should have been paid long ago aud the gypsy song he had suug that evening. The woman he loved rose In his Im agination, wearing a cap with lilac rib bons, and yet, inseparable from all these and from thousands of other rec ollections, the present thought, the ex pectation of death, did not leave him for a moment. 'Perhaps It won't ex plode,' and with desperate final de cision he wished to open his eyes, but at that instant a red flame pierced through the still closed lids, and, with a terrible crash, something struck him in the middle of the chest." "He jumped up and began to run, but, stumbling over the saber that got be tween his legs, fell on his side. 'Thank God, I'm only bruised,' was his first thought, and he wished to touch his chest with his hand, but his arms seem ed tied to his sides, and it felt as if a vise were squeezing his head. Soldiers flitted past him, and he counted them unconsciously. Then lightning flashed before his eyes, and he wondered whether the shot were fired from a mortar or cannon. 'Cannon, proba bly, and here are more soldiers—five, six. seven soldiers. They till pass by.' He was suddenly filled with fear that they would crush him. Ho wished to shout that he was hurt, but his mouth was so dry that his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. "He felt it wet about his chest, and this sensation of being wet made him think of water. Fearing lest the sol diers might trample on him, he tried to shout "Take care with you,' but instead of that he uttered such a terrible groan that he was frightened to hear it. Then other red fires began dancing before his eyes, and it seemed to him that the soldiers put stone-; on him. lie made an effort to push "ff the stones, stretch ed himself, and saw and heard and felt nothing more. He had been killed on the spot by a bomb splinter in the mid dle of hi-; i." I lie lOiifl nnd I lie Wettta. The numerous kinds of west of which the effete east solemnly dis courses are enough to bewilder a Philadelphia lawyer It will assure you that besides "the middle west," a phras • th ' it employs continually and with evident pleasure, there are an eastern west, a western west, a northern west aud a southern west! Vet there Is only one east, and hardly enough of that to swear by.—Call 'ne»dau * A I m | Queen Luriines Wishes-and Mine By IK A WRIGHT HANSON j • 'o|»j-ritfl,t, l!*»i, li\ Homer Siiraßiio , ||J At the fancy dress ball the profile of Queen Lurline pleased me greatly, a beautiful line from the gold banded, ; decked forehead to the piquant fliin where 1 remembered years before j t. dimple had lurked. "Your chin is charmingly the same," I murmured, bowing low before her. "And your cheek, Gordon Bell." I laughed. Slang from the lips of j royalty is delightful; also I was pleas ed that she had recognized me. I look ed with distaste at the crowds. "Do you know a bank whereon the ' wild thyme grows?" I asked seduc tively. "1 do. Let's find it." It was down by the lake, and over j nnd around was moonlight, caressing Lurlino's face, and making her eyes ' glow like the gems in her dark hair. "It has been nine years," she said j presently. "Nine years, two months and a day," I corrected. "Have you received your money's worth?" "I suppose so." she answered, color lessly. " I used to think if I could have j a gold watch and a piano I should be ! perfectly happy, but when they came ' so many other things came with them that I felt like the child who has too many ■ jfts at Christinas. I didn't know which one to play witli first, and so I got tired of them all." Her dark eyes held a look that had ■ ' no right i:i the eyes of three and 1 twenty. "If youth, beauty and riches cannot j bring you contentment you must be i hard to please," I said. She gave an impatient shrug. "And j royalty you forget that or perhaps you didn't know.l suppose lamto be the | Princess < "asimir." i "Lurline." I exclaimed, "you wouldn't! ! Why, he is a beast! His name isn't tit | to be mentioned in a woman's pres- i | ence." "So I've heard." she answered calm- ! ly, "but he's a prince. Shouldn't Ire- | ward my benefactress by making her a mother in royalty, so to speak? I think I shall tell him yes." The queen leaned toward me and j touched my arm. "Why don't you tell j me of yourself, Gordle?" she asked, wistfully. "And the old home and j the schoolhouse are they still there? j And the wintergreens and the old oak tree?" "1 have brought you a picture of the j schoolhouse. The tree is gone. The j wintergreen patch is there, but berries j and leave- seem to have lost their fla- I vor. I wonder why?" She bent over ihe picture, which j showed dimly in the moonlight. "Do you remember when we used to j sit oa the schoolhouse step after the j others had gone and plav three wishes, * Gordle? If you could have three wish j cs now. what would you ask for?" "Power, position and pelf." I answer- ! ed promptly. She sighed. "You are foolish. Gor die, and I am surprised. Your letters these nine years haven't sounded that way." Her mellow and full, needed | just this note of ...lnc ; to make me well n!-Ii foivet that I was only a vil lage doctor ail'! > lie i heiress. She mustn't marry th • i ince. but I must remember my place, 1 had no right to e.Milaiu to ! ,t H: 1 what niv three wishes really i. -int. "I.urline." I id. "the old school master. crippled D k Gregg, still lives in th * villa .re. When he knew 1 was coming to see you he said: 'You'll not find her changed, boy. except perhaps taller s;nd i,i >rc winsome. The good heart of little Lurline II dland could not be tarnished b_\ I'aris or London or the courts of the wicked." " "Dear, blc i | ■ »!< 1 man!" I was sure 1 could i ",ect tears in her voice, but she added -lightly: "Too bad you'll have t > go back and tell him his mis take isn't it? Take your queen in, Gordia. It • ,twt be nearly time for me to dance a stupid polka with the wick ed prince." I saw her the next day and the next •tin! the day after. We reveled in remi niscences of the time when we were bo*, and girl together before the eccen tric aad rich Mrs. Van Houter, struck •y 'ie oroli a's great promise of beau ty, had adopted her. 1 was fairly car ried away with Lurline's charms, but I prided myself on my strong will, and the did not know how my arms aclieil to hold her. When we were together she was not at home to the prince, for which I was duly thankful, but 1 exerted all my energies toward making her relalze the horror of a union with him. She would not argue, neither would she promise to refuse hi in At last I appealed to Mrs. Van Ilouter "It is not right of you to let the child sacrifice herself!" 1 blazed. KlLLthe couch AND CURE the LUNGS I j WT Dr. King's New Discovery /Consumption Price FOR I WUGHS and 50c & SI.OO Free Trial. Surest and Quickest Cure for all THROAT and LUNG TROUB LES, or MONEY BACK. HII SEW! A Reliable TO SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing I Spouting and General Job Work. Stoves, Heaters. Ran***, Furnaces, «to. PRICBN TUB LOWEST! QLil.ll'V TUB BUST! I JOHN HIXSON NO. lit E. FRONT ST. ,\.i s. t ,i;i uouter regarded me lazll*'. "Would you iniiiil telling me why you don't want Lurline to marry the prince?" •'Hi' is a wreck, physical and moral," 1 answered, trying to keep cool, "lie is a drunl nrd. 1 should think these are sufficient re., ons." "H.-ive jon told them to LurlineV" Yes. I Ml --lie is blinded by her grati tude :o yoti. A young girl cannot real what it means anyway." • Ila\«» von no other reason, Gordon?" 1 l it i;iy fa< row hot. "I think you .> v then' is If it weren't for \ mi w retch -d money, Mrs. Van llou b-r. I would marry I.iuiine Holland if ' 1 on Id I t me." il what have you to offer her, >s • '! a i le.n hands and a tongue that r ■•■ ii evil of a woman • id n .iiic ut resources of a vil li _« i >r." I added bitterly. ••I »: I shoui i advise you to tell c■: lid so." I < ii' i . i h"r: then I took up my * 11>;>> i- impossible, Mrs. Van 1 I .mi i i a fortune hunter." V. Vau 11 outer laughed. "Make iii ens; on that score, Cor •. I.i have lost every cent I had. Only i.nrline M:d 1 know It yet, but SOO l •i '-rivingly rude, but 1 wait > nor;-. I hastened into t> i- ■ rd" i t.) I.urline. • l Irl. I want to explain those t.'o- • !i power, position and pelf. It \ ■ n't ; >r '!> -niselves that I crav i-i ii in -ar li'.t because 1 thought li. .. po» e io>: iii* lit help me to win y 'iii.' ar: • i is down between us n • My >elo" •<!. l.iay I take you back t i old home i the wintertrrcens? I " :i lie oil ■:> yon Lurline." 1.11 » l.urKue'; face Hashed rose col o •; f.•«'in ii v glu.'otrs eyes looked heav e J too!, her into my arms, that were so •'! 1 s.i : lail. and she whispered: "Yon didn't ask me my three wishes. Cor lie The first one was you. and the second was yon. and the third was you." ilitil Xot llo'ii Intro* tluccd t«i lliiko or lliiiiihu. Alexandre I)uin:is, the elder, tells this story in his diary: "One day Victor Hugo and ! were dining wkh the Due I>< >:f s. and anion;' the guests were I.ord and I.uly I'almerston. Lord and Lady Palm;Tstoti had come late. There had been no time for an introduction before dinner, and after dinner, while \v • w -ii' 1 iking tea, the formality had been forgotten. Young Due Decazes came rp to me. 'My dear M. Dumas.' he s->'d. 'l.ord I'almerston has begged me !•> ask you to leave an empty chair between yourself and Victor Hugo.' I diil so. "Lord I'almerston got up, took his wife by the hand and brought her over to us "Look ;:t the clock, my lady,' he said. '\\ hat o'elock is it?' asked Lord Palmeistou. "Thirty-five minutes past li»." replied my ladv. 'Then remember.' s.iid h • • hu-cuud. "that this evening at thirty live i funics past 10 you were ■- Mi d between Victor Hugo and Alex andre i> :nas and that such an honor is not Ii:, •ly to happen to you twice in a llfeiiuH*.' "lie tit'ii tool; his wife by the hand and took her back to her place at the othi ;• side of the room without another wo: i. Yo i see. he had not been intro duce! either to Victor Hugo or me." 'lhe Valuable "Mj I*r«-lt>' Jane." "My I'retty Jane" was one of the most profitable songs to the publishers ever written. Some years ago it brought over iOO, yet all that Mr. I-'itzball, tiie writer of the words, and Sir Henry P.ishop, the composer of the music, jointly received did not exceed £lO. Fitzbail, to be sure, declared that it took him just ten minutes to write, and itishop thought so little of his own selling tint lie had thrown the manuscript nt » the waste paper bas ket. from \ iiich it was fished out by the in:,,, t ,f Vauxhall Gardens. But. even >. the composer was surely entitled i i a proportionate reward with the publ -!,er, ami it is not consoling to recall t! • circumstance that Bishop ai 1 ..1 a pauper.—Chambers' i 7 I | The Home Paper | of Danville. ! ! i ! • i Of course you read j l* n j I if i THE T\EOPLE'S |J MOPULAR I APER. ! Everybody I ; It. ; * : r I : i Publisher Every Mot Except l i Sunday I No. nfc. Ny St. j t Subscription c V-' el.. MAKE CALLS AT NIGHT. TV* ii lin I- I.ii >fo in of Hie \r«li Ifidlee of /,aii/ilmr. The Yr.ib ladies of Zanzibar live in great occlusion in the large white houses. never »ill r out in the daytime from one year's end to another, says the Ma:i In-ster Cuardian. A little cooking and s\ vetincat making is their only recognized employment, though some few of them ean do beautiful silk embroidery. To lie on their beds and be fanned by their slave girls is the usual oc< upation of the richer women. If they w.Lijt tn \ :sit their friends, or, its is i."ore oft ;i the ease, to perambu late the town, 1 hey wait until 8 o'clock in the evening when a gun is fired warning all M< liammedan's that it is the fifth and la -i hour of prayer; then they may go out. Th'y are entirely enveloped in I ,iyv mantles and their face.; complet '.y hidden by very ugly gilt mas!; . Ii oblong slits for the eyes, and in;: ■ of tliein wear these even in tlie p: .icy of their own homes. Their <>ii' r i meats are trousers and a tuni< iva •! i::»• r below the knee, which is often lered and trimmed with gold braid, 'hoy h;:\ » a number of gold and silver ornaments, nose rings and e.irri.. bracelets, anklets, and so on. They are v " v light in color, many of them c. eai; I. Their features are regular and ■ oo;l. and they have dark eyes and •; . ■ black hair. They paint under th i;• .-yes and stain their hands anil nails a reddish color with senna. If they want togo any distance from home they ride through the narrow streets on large white asses stained a brick red, their slaves running by their sides, but you generally meet them stalking solemnly along, surrounded by their slaves, who carry enormous lan terns as big as a London street lamp. Very often they do not return home till 4 in the morning, when another gun Is fired proclaiming the first hour of prayer. It Is very awkward at times ■when you meet in the streets some of these ladies whom you ought to know and are greeted by them. You cannot see their faces, it Is not always easy to recognize a voice, and nothing would offend them more than to ask their names. Libeled London. When the most has been said against London smoke nnd London fog, against the dirt laden atmosphere and the noise and worry of the metropolis, it is still true that there are healthy people In the capital. London lias not perhaps deserved all the hard things that have been said oft.- London Country Gen tleman. T ACKAWANNA RAILROAD. BLOOMSBURG MVidlON Delaware Lackawanna and Westeri Railroad. In Effect Jan. 1, 1905. TRAINS LEAVE DANVILLE EASTWARD. 7.07 a. m.daily tor Blooinsburg, Kingston Wilkes-Barre and Seranton. Arriving ton at 9.12 a. m., and connecting at Scrantoi, with trains arriving at Philadelphia at -1.48 a m.and New York City at 3.30 p. in. 10.19 a. in. weekly for Bloomsburg. Kingstou VVilkes-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 Buffalo. 2.11 weekly forßlooinsburg.Kingstou.Wllkeb Barre. Seranton and intermediate mat ions arriving at Seranton at 4.50 p. ni. 5.43 p. in.daily for Blooinsburg, Espy, Ply mouth. Kingston, Wilkes-Barre, Pittston, Seranton and intermediate station*, arriving at Seranton at -.25 p. m.and connecting thert with trainsarriviug at New York City at 0.5( a - in.. Philadelpeia 10 a. in.and liutlalo 7a ui. TRAINS A iRIVE AT DANVILLE 9.15 a.m. weekly from Seranton, PittNlon, Kingston, Bloomsburgand intermediatesln tions, leaving Seranton at 6.35 a. m., where li connects with trains leaving New York City at 1). 30 p. m., Philadelphia at 702 p.m. and Buffalo at 10.30 a. in. 1".44 p. m.daily from Seranton Pittston. Kingston, Berwick, Bloomsburg and Interme diate stations, leaving Seranton at 10.10 a. ui. and conneetingthere with train leaving Butt alo at 2.25 a. in. 4.33 p. m. weekly om Seranton, Kingston. Berwick. Bloomsburg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Seranton at 1.55 p. in., where 11 connects with train leaving New York City al 10.UU a. in., and Philadelphia at il.oo a. m. 9.05 p. in.daily from Seranton. Kingston Pittston, Berwick. Blooinsburg and lnteriue diate stations, leaving Seranton at fl.iffi p.m., where it connects with trains leaving Ivew York City at 1.00 p. m„ Philadelphia al VI I! p. m.and Butlolo at 9.3'.' a. m. T. K. CIjAIIKK. Uen'l Sup't. T. W. LICK. Uen. Pass. A«t. mm... 'tfe want to io aii Ms of Printing trt in rs M. IIR Pieose. : lis IM ! u I « *""" A. well \r tasty, Bill < W / tor Head, i)lt Ticket, C Program, » l m' LjA ment or Car. I (w an adverfi: .:h !i for your busine: > ■< satisfaction to vn iei Type, Nei Presses, ~ Best Paper, W Stilled fort Promptness \ll v°u can ask A trial will mak* you our customer We respect full'' ;■ • that trial. m i i • 6 ** No. m R. Malsoninir v t. T7*IT .X-."B . TP
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers