• A AAAAAAA/NAAA AA ? AUNT ADRA'S» APOLOGY. By LILLIAN LEE. 4 Copyrighted. 1908, by Associated Literary Press. • wwTvtvwvv vTvwrvfyrv ▼ • "Jimmie, Aunt Adra's come." IJttle Mrs. Boxley's voice was dull and lifeless. "I don't think that she likes tne," ■was the additional remark, which ex plained the depression. "My dear child, she must! She is the only member of my family with money, and I was iter favorite nephew. If she does not approve of my mar riage It's all off. But she's got to like you, Dolly," he ndded fondly. "How could any one help liking you?" "But she has done nothing except sit and glare at tne,'' walled the little wo man. "1 phoned Bess for an extra ticket for the concert tomorrow, and when I told Aunt Adra that we were going she just said Th-hn!' like that." "She'll say you're the best little wo man in the world before you get Sjf - J I ' 1 1l - "IT IS MY TIiEAT AND MY APOLOGY." through," declared Jimmie as he put tits arm about her shoulders and went Into welcome Aunt Adra. Jimmie was genuinely fond of his maiden aunt, even if she did call him James. Sometimes he wished that lie did not have "expectations" from her so that he might insist upon her call )ng him Jimmie. It was the first time since his mar rtage that he had seen her. He mar ried Dolly because he could not help It. From the moment that he had set eyes on her as she stepped on the stage at a studio recital Jimmie had told himself that she was the one wo man In the world whom he wanted for a wife. After that he was in the hands of fati». Two mouths later they were mar ried, and it was not until they had sat themselves down to address the wed ding invitations that Jimmie even thought of asking Aunt Adra's permis sion. A long letter of explanation had gone with the invitation, and the re sponse had been a plated berry spoon and a promise from the old lady to pay them a visit. Now, she was none the less welcome because she had come unannounced, and there was real sincerity in Jim mie's greeting. Aunt Adra unbent a little as he came in. but as they went out to dinner Jimmie was conscious of 31 certain air of disapproval which b«-re down on his spirits. For Jimmie was proud of the little woman he had married and wanted all tlie world to approve his choice. 111- ■leed he could not understand how <>. Ie could do otherwise. All through the evening this fee :ig wet blanketed their pleasure. For he tirst time the little parlor seemed dis tasteful to him. For the first time 1 >is eontent was a guest. It was not that Jimmie was discon tented with his wife, it was the first time that he was discontented with his home. The tiny parlor was no longer the center of paradise, and as Jimmie kissed Mrs. Jimmie good night In whispered that the visit wonld not last long, since Aunt Adra was clearly as unhappy as themselves. But the visit did endure far beyond the first week. It was well toward the end of the tirst month that Jimmie was startled by the appearance of Aunt Adra at the office. "Is there anything the matter with Dolly?" he gasped. Aunt Adra shook her head. "She is well, so far as I know," slit answered coldly. "I want you to come out and have lunch with me. That Is the purpose of my visit here." It was the work of a minute to ar range with the managing clerk for a little additional time at lunch, and Jim mie led the way to the quiet cafe where lie bud often entertained his aunt before. Then they had been jolly little occa sions; now she sat grim faced :nd silent, while her nephew devoted him self to his lunch. Not until the table hail been cleared and o:tl;. t!i-> coffee cuj 1 were left did she spenl:. "I have kept silent as long as i con Id, James." she began. "Hut tlii nii "ning something occurred that I fait you should be informed of. "I have tried to like your wife tie cause she Is your wife. with held criticism and have sought to in dorse your choice even while the first glimpse told me that you have been roped in by a designing woman. Don't say anything," she commanded hur riedly as Jimmie sought to make ob jection. "I know what I am talking about. There never was a man who was u match for a woman. "I made up my mind to overlook the extravagant taste In dress that leads her to wear silks and satins. 1 over looked the fact that you have a piano that is of a far more expensive make than I could afford to purchase. She even had the audacity to tell me that the piano was loaned her by the maker. "Then she made you put In a tele phone, and her extravagance about concert tickets is something shocking. .Tallies, there are hundreds of concert programmes in her room and even tickets that she purchased and did not use. They cost $1 and $2 a piece. "All that I could stand—though such * a extravagant woman naier will uet a chance to waste "my money as she has yours—but today I insisted ongo ing downstairs after my mail, lu spite of her protest, and there in the box was a letter addressed to some one j else'. Your wife blushed when 1 hand ed it to her, but later I saw her read- ( ing it, nnd later still I heard her at th j telephone telling a Signor Marascreck , that she had his letter and would come right down. "James, that shameless woman is j meeting strange men, and you know j what those foreigners are, and she is getting letters addressed to an alias. It j is Dorothy Chappelle. If you want to j get a divorce. I will pay all expenses, j but not a penny of my money shall you | have otherwise." Miss Box ley settled back In her seat 1 with a determined noil that made the plumes on her hat dance vigorously, j Jimmie lay back In his seat nnd choked with laughter. Miss Boxlcy. supposing it to be hysterics, regarded him pity lnglv. : "It is all Dolly's fault," explained Jimmie at last. "She was af:ald tha you might be prejudiced against hot | profession, and she wanted to win your affection before we told you. Auntie, do you know that Dolly would love to own some gingham dresses, but tha: she can't afford them?" "She might sell the piano." suggest j ed Miss Boxley, with a sniff. "But that is only loaned." explain? ' ! Jimmie. "Here's the way It goes. Dol ly Is a concert singer and teacher. She j has no pupils through tht vuuiiner. i-n , she closed her studio and had the piano moved over to the flat. It 1 loaned by the makers, and she pay: i for it by recommending It to her | ■: pils. Her work also explains the con ; cert tickets. The singers send her tick ets free and are only too glad to have people like us come and lead the sip plause." "And the dresses? They are ah o j loans?" "Not much! Thc.v were given to 1: >r ; by rich women who love to patroni/. struggling artists, but they give lit.: only evening gowns. Dolly has one j good street dross, but in tin* house she feels she onght to wear out this hall , worn finery. She can't afford to give the dresses away, and tlicy would not bring a dollar apiece secondhand. You see we are paying lor a little home lu the country, and every penny goes into that fund. "That Is why we live so cheaply an i that is why Dolly is trying to get a steady appointment at the conserva tory. The fact that Marascheck sent for her argues that she has landed li It is good news. Aunt Adra, uot bad. that you bring me. Hut to think that you have accused poor Dolly of wear ing frivolous clothes when she loathes her 'glad rags' as she does." .llmmle went off Into another gale of laughter, then sobered down to tell the sacrifices they had made to earn a home that should be their very own. When he had finished, the old lady's eyes were suspiciously moist, and i> 1 they rose togo she looked at hl.'i ' pleadingly. i "You will forgive a meddling o : | fool, won't you, Jimmie?" she pleaded ! and Jimmie kissed her twice once hi ' token of forgiveness and once for tliv title "Jimmie." That night as he let himself into the tiny flat lie found the two women por ing over samples and fashion sheet Aunt Adra was sitting in the Morri. chair, and Dolly was perched on its arm, the brown head against the gray Miss Boxley looked up. with a smile, as Dolly Hew to greet her husband. "After this." she said dryly, "Miss Dorothy Chappelle is still going t<• wear silks and satins, but Dolly Box ley Is selecting what she wants for her home use. It is my treat and my apol ogy." The Faster Nag. A writer, relating some of the inci dents of General Grant's last days, tells in the Century Magazine this an ecdote of the ex-president. He was, as every one knows, very fond of horses and while spending a summer at I.ong Branch was accustomed to take a dally drive behind a uoted trotter. By courtesy, although often against his wish, he was always given a free and open course. One day while jog ging along he noticed in a casual way a farmer and his wife, who, with a sin gle horse and errand wagon, were just ahead, evidently returning from mar ket. On attempting to "draw alongside" and pass the couple there was a race 011 in a moment. The farmer chirped in a peculiar way. and his horse squatted into a long gait ed and easy trot. Altogether it was a veritable surprise to the other driver, with his "professional trotter" and light road wagon. But the farmer kept the lead in spite of General Crant's of forts to overtake him. Occasionally through the dust he could see the farmer's wife look back to note their relative positious. Final ly.after a mile heat, the farmer slow ed up a little to allow the general to come within hearing distance. "Did you know who it was?" General Grant was asked. "Oh. yes." he replied. "The man simply said. "General, you've got a gor-d one.' and then I allowed bin, to goon." Taft's Turn to Buy Now. To the jovial rivalry between l'resl dent Koosevelt and President Elect Tuft over the football prowess of Har vard and Yale was added a new chap ter the other day. The president elect had just returned from riding with his brother, Henry W. Taft, and Brigadier General Clarence li. Edwards, both of whom reached Hot Springs, Va., re cently. "How did the game come out?" he asked. "Four to nothing, and all for Har vard." "Oh, pshaw!" and then, with a laugh. "I'll just have to send the president a tittle congratulation by wire, but Yale won last year." The Brakeman's Joke. "Ban over a cow this morning up above Coffeyville," said the brakeman to a reporter. "How did it happen?" asked the re porter. "She was drinking out of a creek under a bridge." shouted the brakeman as he swung onto the last car and wont grinning out of town.—Kansas City Times. TDEROSSHORTHPOLE Explorer Godwin's New Plan of an Arctic Expedition. WILL DRIFT FOUR YEARS. Expects Ice Pack to Carry Ship and ( Party From Alaska to Greenland In That Time—To Start Next Septem ber—Many Casks to Be Taken. Evelyn Brings Baldwin, the arctic explorer who led the unsuceesful Zlegler expedition in search of the north pole, a few nights ago revealed his plans for another dash northward whereby he not only hopes to reach the pole, but actually to cross over it by traversing a course from northwest of Point Harrow, Alaska, to a point between Spitzbergeu and the east coast of Greenland, it is his plan to let nature shape his course by run ning his ship Into the drift ice, per mitting it to become part of the ice pack, and then to drift with the Arctic currents until he has accomplished his purpose of discovering the pole. Bald win estimates that the drift will last four years and that Its slowness will permit him and his associates to make many exploration trips on sledges on both sides of the course. Ily that means he feels sure much will be added to the present scientific and geographical information in rela ; tion to the arctic regions. Efforts will lie made to keep the public in America and Europe in touch with his progress by sending up balloons carry ing bulletins, says the New York Press. That plan was pursued on the Zlegler expedition, and several of the bulletins, which were incased in cork buoys, were fouint on land or at sea. The start on this new expedition will not be made before next September. I The Baldwin party will leave the Pacific coast in a steamship, which I will be the main ship of the expedi tion. There also will be two or more supply steamships, which are to be employed In transporting many heavy timbers from the Oregon or Alaskan forests, and also thousands of strong casks, which will be tilled with oil, clothes, food, emergency supplies and other things needed for the long voy age. There also will be portable houses, sledges, small but strong boats, forty or fifty dogs and three or four Siberian horses. The horses will be used the first year of the drift or until provender runs out, and then they will be killed and eaten. The exploring party will consist of about twenty-four persons, including probably two American navy officers, who already have expressed eagerness togo on the expedition. Not more than two or three Bsklinos will be taken along, because they will be of lit tle use on an expedition conducted for 1 purely scientific purposes. Baldwin says he does not expect to find land at the pole. He will not lie surprised, however, to find it to the cast of that 1 point. j "The initial point of the drift will be to the northwest of Point Harrow. Alaska," he said. "There we will make fast to one of the large ice does at the southern edge of the ice pack. The supply steamships will discharge their ' supplies on the surfuce of the ice floes and then leave us in charge of the main steamship. We will proceed at once to form a settlement upon the floating ice island. These ice floes are from eight to thirty feet thick and in size as large as Central park or even Manhattan Island. They are close to gether. and the edges continually rub, thus forming the ice pack." | He said the reason for scattering ! thousands of logs and casks 011 the ice 1 floe is that if the floe should split they can be recovered easily from the wa ter. Even if a few should be lost thousands will remain to supply the needs of the explorers. Asked how fast be thought the drift j would bo after his ship bad become I part of the ice floe, he said: "We will be forced along at an aver age rate of two utiles each tWenty | four hours—that is to say, one d ree Jof latitude a month—and in a course j parallel to the course of the Joan net to | of De I.ong's expedition and of the j From of Hansen's expedition. Our j course, however, will be directly j across the Arctic ice pack instead of across the margin, as was the case I with De Long and Nansen." "How long do you think that drift j will last?" Baldwin was asked, j "As we are to drift midstream— that is, through the field of unobstruet | ed drift of the pack, where the ice j moves more swiftly than it does near j the coast lines—we probably will con | sume about four years hi the actual drift. We will have drifted over the ; northern curvature of the earth, leav | ing the pole about midway in the line •if drift. We will go right over the I pole." Baldwin said the hull of his ship j will be shaped to avoid the danger of : being nipped by the ice if the floe iliouid break to pieces and that the discharge of the supplies on the ice | Will make her ride high. Asked if lie , thought such a long drift would break ilown the minds and bodies of him and his companions, the explorer said it probably would if the expedition were conducted on antiquated lines. Will Green Shoes Be Worn? Tanners of green calfskin report mat manufacturers of men's and wo men's fine shoes are making samples I of that stock to be hurried to their salesmen. New York city buyers are said to look very favorably upon green shoes owing to the prediction 1 that green will be widely worn next spring and summer. When Tired Out. In case of exhaustion alcohol added to the bath is a great invigorator. The 1 most economical way of using it is to have a basin of clear water, and into ; this put a tablespoonful of the spirits ; to a quart of cool water. The body is well sponged in this, using the water 1 freely. There will lie little danger of ' taking cold, and the bath will prove to ! be refreshing and restful The trouble with many a man's In tegrity is that it needs constant vindi cation.—Chicago News. • *AAAA/\A/ \AA AAAAAAAAAA/WVA • 3 THE LADY OF^ ? THE PARASOL. ► |> | ? By Martha Cobb Sanford. Copyrighted. 1908. by Associated j Literary Press. j • TVTVTVTVWWVWTVTyTi/TVT • So far as Tom Brewster was con-! cemed, feminine accessories were fash- j loned for the sole purpose of frighten ing masculine beholders. If, for In stance, wheu walking on the avenue; in town he saw a mass of dancing; plumes and feathery streamers about to swoop down upon him, he shied as j would a nervous thoroughbred at the sight of fluttering paper. This timidity was due both to his i temperament and Ills circumstances.: Ills mother had died when he was very young, he had had no sisters, had never cared for women's society, and last, but far from least, bad never availed himself of the privilege of; studying the eternal feminine In the. abstract—that Is, by gazing into shop windows. And so it happened that Annette Avery, with her rullly gowns and alarum supreme, her whirling parasol, terrified Tom to the point of paralysis. j From the hotel veranda, painfully con scious of his own Ineligibility, he watched other men from time to time stroll off with her, all of them adepts in the art of parasol manipulation. Ordinarily such an exhibition of flip-1 pant superiority would not have piqued him. It would have either roused his disdain or escaped his observation al together. But for some reason wholly 1 unintelligible to himself the thought of any other man's holding Miss Avery's parasol sent him Into a state of feverish emotion. Tom was nothing if not Ingenious; and persistent. In the seclusion of his 9 by 0 hotel bedroom he prac ticed twirling a carefully poised um brella over his shoulder. The idiocy of it tickled his demure sense of hu mor. and the results were very grati fying. Whether the bewildering presence of Miss Avery beside him would upset tills heroically acquired equilibrium could only be discovered by putting himself to the actual test. lie decided to risk it. | "Miss Avery"—he ventured on hav-j I lag the good luck to find her alone on | / i mj "THEN ACrF.PT MR, DEAREST,'' TOM PLEADED. ; the veranda in tlie early part of an Idyllic summer day "won't you let me paddle you up the creek a bit thin I morning?" Gracious as was Miss Avery's ac knowledging smile, it could not <iuite i conceal the astonishment in her wide j open blue eyes. This Tom noticed, i meeting the implication gallantly. "You see." he explained, endeavor , Ing to t<>ss eff the words witU worldly j I ease, "you are so discouragiugly pop 1 Ular, Miss Avery. This is the tirst j time 1 ever found you—detached, as it, were." Annette Avery laughed with delight ful ingenuousness. "I'd love to go. Mr. Brewster," she i assured him. "It's too glorious a morning to spend waiting for some one w ho does not show up." "Oh," said Tom, crestfallen, "then! I you're not really detached, after all?" I "Absolutely," was Annette's emphat j lc reply. "A laggard in—n laggard," she finished weakly, "isn't worth wait ! lug for. When shall we start?" | "Night away," urged Tom. lie was apprehensive of that "laggard." "All right," agreed Annette. "Just j wait till I run In and tell mother." | "Bring your parasol." Tom cried aft j er her and then stood dumfounded at his own temerity. But by the time Annette reappeared he had braced ! himself literally for the shouldering, 1 of this formidable responsibility. What | matter if on their way to tlu> boat- I house he did carry the frivolous thins; at an angle diametrically opposed t<_ Its protective purpose? He was h.ip pily unconscious of it.and Annette. | blinking heroically, was too mag i nanimous to disillusion him. The canoe launched, Tom, with soni show of savoir falre, tossed the rush lons into it and extended his hand tc Annette. At length, with a long graceful sweep of the paddle. they were off. The shimmering radiance of the sea! marshes as they followed the win I ings of the little creek soon subdued their outbursts of admiration, and they j fell by mutual consent Into dreamt silence. Suddenly in her excitement at sight i of a "blue" crab scuttling sldewlse be neath the canoe Annette lost hold ot her parasol. Before Tom could rescut It with his paddle a yelping mongre of n dog sprang out of the tall grasses and dashed Into the water after it. "Bravo, old fellow!" called Tom. "Here, here, sir." But to the victor belong the spoils, i and the dog made off with his capture. Pursuit was impossible through the wet marshes, i'owerless to avert the catastrophe, they watched the dog's fiendish demolition of the fragile con trivance. "It's au outrage!" exclaimed Tom. "And It's your favorite sunshade too." At this Annette burst Into a merry , peal of laughter. What other man among all "her conventional friends would have used that quaint word "sunshade?" It tickled her fancy. "How do you know?" she asked him teaslngly. "Because you always carry It,"was Tom's candid admission. "That's because I haven't any other," Annette Informed him. "But it doesn't matter, really. It was Just a garish cretonne thing." Of these extraordinary specifications Tom took rapid mental note. The next day found him scouring the rural me tropolis of Greenville for something that corresponded to Annette's descrip tion and to his own visual recollection of the 111 fated purasol. But nowhere had such a novelty as a "garish cretonne sunshade" ever been heard of. lie told Annette so when, weary and disgusted, he returned to the hotel. She laughed at hlui mercilessly. "Is It so funny?" he asked her wist fully. "Well, you are," she enlightened him; "cretonne is quite a new thing for parasols to be made of. It's generally used for covering chairs and cushions and window boxes and things like that. So very probably all the shop keepers over in Greenville thought you were crazy when you asked them for a cretonne para—sunshade." "They acted so," was Tom's feeling comment. A few days later, forearmed with 1 this wealth of "cretonnlc" Information, j Tom took his way confidentially up to | town. Annette comforted herself with ] the thought that nothing short of very 1 urgent business had forced him to post- j pone even for a day their morning pad dle up the creek, which had come to be ! for each of them an accepted and an ticipated pleasure. On his return, although (or more like ly because!) it was late in the evening and full moonlight, Tom sought out Annette in the gay chatting groups on the hotel veranda and quietly signaled to her. "Get something to throw around you, Annette," he directed, "and let's go down on the beach for a stroll. The moonlight is beautiful on the water." Annette, her heart fluttering prophet ically, acquiesced without a moment's hesitation. When they had found a sheltered nook on the lee side of a picturesque old rock, Tom took off his overcoat and spread it for Annette to sit upon. As he did so a long, narrow package dropped on the sand at his feet. "What's that?" asked Annette sus piciously. "Something I picked up in town," Tom chuckled. "Want to see It?" With exasperating deliberation Tom unrolled the wrappings. "Of course," answered the truly fem inine girl, perched on the rock. "There!" he exclaimed at length, un furling the treasure. "Do you like it?" "Oh, what a beauty!" gasped An nette. "I never had such a—l mean 1 never saw such a lovely one. But, Tom, cretonne would have been all right." Tom shook his head as one who knows whereof he speaks. "No," he told her boastfully. "The cretonne ones aren't in the same class with this. I know because I've got two awfully garish ones of that kind for you up at the hotel." "Why, Tom Brewster!" reproved An nette in astonishment. "Really, I can't accept"— "What?" Interrupted Tom calmly as with the slender tip of the parasol, which was all one mass of exquisite filmy flowers, he made marks in the smooth sand, upon which the moon light shone with unmistakable distinct ness. Annette, her eyes tracing with fas cinated wonder the written words, "1 love you," almost forgot Tom's ques tion. "I couldn't accept but one," she sud denly roused herself to answer. "Then accept me. dearest," Tom pleaded, smiling up at her. As to what happened then under the sheltering "sunshade" even the man in the moon was left to imagine. ALL THE WAY ROUND. An Odd Sort of Dinner and the Rea son of It. Lord rolkemmet, a Scottish lord of session, usually retired lo his country residence during the part of the year when the court does no business. John Ilagart, the Scottish advocate, equally idle from a similar cause, went to shoot, and, happening to pass Lord IVs property, he met his lord ship, who politely Invited John to take, or. as he said, to tak\ a family dinner with himself, his wife and daughter. John accepted the invitation, and they all assembled at the hour of din ner. There was a joint of roasted veal at the head of the table and stewed veal at the bottom, veal soup lti the middle, calf's head on one side of the soup and veal cutlets on the other, calfs foot jelly between the soup and roast veal and calf's brains between the stewed veal and the soup. "Noo," said his lordship In his own blunt way, "Mr. Ilagart, you may very likely think this an odd sort of dinner, but ye'll no wonder when you hear the cause of it. We keep nao company. Mr. Ilagart, and my daughter here ca ters for our table. The way we do is just this: We kill a beast, as it were, today, and we just begin to cook it at one side of the head, travel down that side, turn the tail and just gang back again by the other side to where we began." The Year Without a Summer. The year 1810 has a remarkable cold weather record and is known as "the year without a summer." In that year there was a sharp frost in every month, and the people ail over the world began to believe that some great and definite change In the earth was taking place. The farmers used tore- ! fer to It as "eighteen hundred and starve to death." Frost, ice and snow ; were common in June. Almost every green thing was killed, and the fruit was nearly all destroyed. During the month snow fell to the depth of three inches in New York and Massachu- j setts and ten Inches in Maine. There j were frost and Ice in July in New York. New England and Pennsylvania, and j corn was nearly all destroyed In cer- ; tain sections. Ice half an inch thick ' formed In August. A cold north wind prevailed nil summer. WHEN TED COY WEPT Hew Yale's Football Hero Col lapsed After Tigers' Defeat. SOOTHED BY HIS BROTHER. Coach Tells Remarkable Story of the Great Fullback's Hysteria Following the Gridiron Battle at Princeton. Fortunes of Game Rested Upon Him. One of the Yale football coaches supplied the facts for the following story, which was written for the New York Evening World by Bozenian Bul ger: When the great football game re cently played between Yale and Prince ton was ended a big, flaxen haired boy drew a heavy blanket around his band- I aged head and shoulders, hid himself I In a corner of a bus, rested his elbows [ ou ills knees and sunk his cliiu and | Jaws Into his hands. Outside thou ! sands were cheering for Old Eli. Along the streets of Princeton the ! old vehicle rolled with its twenty ! silent passengers. At the hotel all ' alighted, and a crowd rushed around ! to sing "Boola" and cheer Yale. | Heedless of the victorious yells, the j boy with the wliije hair and th" big I blanket rushed up the steps, (lung j open the door to his room, fell ou tlie I bed and burst into a hysterical fit of | weeping. On a chair near the bed sat j a more elderly man—an exact replica ! of the young man. Without a word i he soothingly took the athlete's feet, threw them across his knees and sileut i ly loosened the laces of his shoes, i When the shoes and stockings had been removed the older man. who also carried an athletic breadth of shoulder, ; reached his band beneath the shoulders ; of the weeping athlete and pulled him J to his feet. "Brace up, old fellow," he said. "It's nil over now. Tell me what came Into you." For a minute the boy stammered. Ite couldn't say a word. Finally he threw his arms around the neck of his brother and gulped: "Well, we won, anyway." And with another hysterical spell of weeping Ted Coy, acting captain of the Yale team, fell across the bed and burled his face in his bands. The brother, who had carried the Yale team to victory eight years ago, sat beside him holding ills band, and this is the way the rest of the team found the heroes of 1908 and 1000 when they came to see if everybody had been dressed. The strain had told, and this was the relaxation which followed the greatest gnme of 1008. Here was a man six feet in height and weighing 190 pounds—the hero of the day -cry ing like a child. The fortunes of the game had rested upon his shoulders. With no one to guide him be had seen the weakening of his team. With a score of tS to 0 against them he had deliberately ordered the right half back to tako lils position nt right end. and he had gone into the back Held •tetermlued to carry the ball to vic tory. If he had failed the censuring eyes of 3.000 students would have been upon him. He felt that they would hnve accused him of putting himself In the limelight, while the men who had fought valiantly for an hour by his side were thrust In the back ground. ITe did It all of his own initiative. The coaches had absolutely nothing to say. During the fifteen minutes which elapsed between the halves the Yale cohorts had remained In their dressing room silent. The room w filled with silence and gloom. "Do you think you can win?" asked Walter Camp, the veteran coach. The other coaches were speechless. "We will win,"' said Captain Coy, and that was all that pa-sod. No one had so much as a suggestion to make. When the first fifteen minutes of the second half had elapsed and no score bad been made Slier win Coy, known to Vale as "Shirt" Coy, sat on the side lines painfully quiet. Edwin Coy, the younger athlete, known to the students as Ted Coy, then made the change which swept Princeton off the field. On the first down lie tore through the Princeton line for seven yards. The Tigers were ripped apart as if they had been made of tissue paper. Again be took the ball, utid again the rip ping and tearing of the Tiger line was apparent. The brother on the side lines began pounding the coaches on **» backs. He had come all the way from Minneapolis to see his brother save the day for Yale. On and on went Acting Captain Coy, and finally the score was tied. With teu minutes left in which to play. Ted Coy kept up his ripping and grinding at the Princeton line. The brother by this time was wild. Noth ing could stop Ted. Whether it was brute strength or whether it was the lack of strength on the part of Prince ton. Yale's acting captain was endowed with some kind of primeval Instinct which told him togo ahead, and tie went. MeKadyen, the bis center of Prlnce ton, says that on one occasion he grabbed Coy around the knees, and, though he weighed more than 200 pounds, he was dragged for eight yards. It seemed that nothing could stop ihe hero of tlie day. When nobody else could stop the plunges of the young terror, Captain Dillon of Princeton dived head forward against hitn and was knocked senseless. Fie had to be taken from the field in the arms of the trainers. That was the last straw, nnd in the next plunge the indomitable Coy tore through the line and across the line for n touchdown and—the game. Timo to Stop. Mrs. Centum—Henry. 1 am more than glad that you don't driuk now. but how did yon come to leave off? ltenha::i YOll remember the last time your mother «:is h -re? Mrs. P.cnhntn —Yes. Renhntn- Well, one night while she was here 1 came home in pretty bad shape nnd raw three of her. That settled it. The Rula of Three. Stella—What is the rule of three? Bella—That one ought togo home New York Sun. UNIQUE RIFLE MATCH England and America to Have Small Caliber Arms Contest. FIFTY MEN ON EACH SIDE. May Be Made Three Cornered Match if Entry of Australia Can Be Procured. Caliber of Rifles Limited to 23. Handsome Trophy Provided. An international rifle match of un usual interest will be shot this winter under tbe auspices of the Society of Miniature Kifle Clubs of Great Britain and tbe National Kifle Association of America. Each country will be rep resented by fifty men, who will shoot ten shots each at twenty-five yards with miniature rifles. The Americans will doubtless use the 22 caliber, as under the terms of the challenge the caliber of the rifles is limited to 23, which is comparatively unknown in the Uuited Stales. The ten shots are to be fired on what is known as a double decimal target, which is really two targets together, each with an inch sigb'ijs bull and an inner half inch bull teu. Tea | concentric circles one-quarter of an inch apart divide the count from one to j ten. Five shots are to be fired on each target, the ten shots constituting th» | string allowed each competitor. One ! hundred targets will be sent to the Na tional Kifle association by the Society of Miniature Kifle Clubs, bearing the I signature of the latter. The indorse ; ment of the American association will be added and fifty of the targets re turned to Great Britain. After the shooting the two sets of targets will be collected and exchanged to verify the scores, which will be sent by cable. It is possible that this unique match will be a three cornered affair an 4 that Australia will be drawn into it. The British society has provided a handsome trophy to be held for one. year by the winning country, and eaclv participant will receive a commem orative medal. Considerable prepara tion will be necessary for the match, which will likely not take place until midwinter. The National Ititle asso ciation will shortly begin selecting the fifty shots to represent the United States, and as It Is desired to secure the best it Is probable that all the rifle clubs affiliated with the assocln tion will be invited to compete for the honor of supplying members of the team. After the "tryouts" a team will be selected, and when the match is shot the men chosen will shoot their strings on the range belonging to their own clubs. If possible, the dates will bo arranged so that the shooting will be done In both countries, or all three, If Australia comes In.on the same date, though necessarily there will be some difference In actual time. The challenge provides that any rifle not exceeding 23 caliber may bo used, with any sights not employing glass, any ammunlton, and that any ; position may be assumed. The Ameri cans will probably request that the latter be changed and that the prort. slon be restricted to offhand It is believed the challengers wIU agree to | this. | While 22 caliber rifle practice, both j In and out of doors, is growing in fa | vor in the United States with great J rapidity, the sport has not yet the J popularity or the support it receives jin England. Some of the greatest men and women of the latter Country j give It their hearty encouragement and I patronage. For example, the Society | of Miniature Ktfle Clubs is under tho | patronage of 11. It. 11. the Duke of | Connaught, while 'be two trustees are * the Duke of Norfolk uhe premier duke of Englandi and the Duke of West minster, the wealthiest peer of that country. Associated with them In the management of the society are such distinguished personages as the Mar chioness of Londonderry, the Earl of Albemarle, Viscount Colvllle. Lieuten ant General Sir Inn Hamilton. Major General Sir Alfred Turner. Lieutenant General W. W. Prlseoe. Lieutenant General F. Lance. Major General Sir It. B. Love. Major General W. 11. Mc- Klnnon, Major General A. C. C'od rlngton and many others. The president of the organization Is none other than the great field mar shal Earl Roberts, who has been s<> active in promoting the cause of min iature rifle practice as well as mili tary and civilian rifle practice in gen eral throughout the British empire. The only organization in the United States which approaches the support given the English society is the Na tional Blfle association. It Surely Doss. Bficon—The flea is a coward. It never comes up to the scratch. Egbert—Well, It comes up to tho place where tho scratch Is going to be, nil riglit.—Yonkcrs Statesman. None of us may know when the echo of a careless word will «v.t e vibrating In the hearts of some that hear. annum nvi A. Rellabl© TIN SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne ind Ceneral Job Work. Stoyes, Heaters, Ranges, Furnaces, eto- PRICES THB LOWEST! QIILITY TDK BEST! JOHN IIIXSON HO. 1W E. FBONT SIT,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers