THE TRUE HEIR. How the 0!d Mansion Was Turned Into a Real Home. By ALICE VAN ZAARN. tCopyright, 1909. by Associated Literary i J ress.J The old liouse, with its coat of fresh paint, gleamed among its magnificent elms in the bright August sunshine. In the upstairs front room l'riscilla stood before the mirror giving a last critical look at herself. I lor hair was done high on her head in a style of bygone days, and an ancient shell comb was at tl)e back. Her dress was a gorgeous brocaded silk which had beiifc-cd to her great-great-grandiuother. li had never been altered, and it fitted her tall, straight figure to perfection. "There," slie said, "I guess that will do! Now 1 will sit down and wait till they come." She went over to one of the west ■windows and sat where she could look down the road. Her face was alight with joy. This was the happiest day of her life, li was what she had look ed forward to and worked for. As she sat waiting for her expected guests her mind traveled back over the years that had led up to this day, which seemed to her to bo tlio fulfill ment of all her hopes. She remembered how when slio was a little girl and lived with her grand mother In the house she could see from where she sat she had looked with awe upon the mansion which stood on the bill, and all the stories she cared to hear must be about the eld bouse. Her grandmother could tell her many stories of the old place, of the young people who had lived there and mad? it gay with their happy voices, of tlu noted general who courted and mar ried his fair bride there and of the sad times that came when the young peo ple all went away and the old folks grew feeble and died and the old bouse fell into alien bands. Priscilla remembered how she teased and teased till her grandmother took her to see the man and his wife who lived as caretakers in three or four rooms In the ell. After that she used to slip away to see them, and they got i to be fond of her and let her roam I over the house at will. When she got to be eighteen she de- > termined to earn money enough to buy ! the old house and restore It. The own- ' er took 110 care of it, and it was going I to destruction. It seemed such a bad j thing to Prlscllla to see the blinds j sagging, the shingles and clapboards coming off and the chimneys los- 1 ing bricks i 1 every high wind. She j "IT ALT, SKKSIS SO FCTILBi" SHE CKIBD. would buy it and save it from ruin, j and it would stand there In all Its old time dignity, a valuable historic land- i mark. She told no one of her plan, but set about deciding on her work. She had always Intended being a nurse, and this work would servo her purpose as well as any. So by the time she was twenty-one she had finished her course at the I training school, had taken her first! case and deposited her first money In J the bank toward buying the old place. ' Then came a disappointment. The j great-aunt for whom she was named j sent for her to come and take care of j her. l'riscilla rebelled inwardly, for the old woman was crossgrained and j miserly and grudged her the food she] atp. l»u! Priscilla knew that it was her last sickness, and she could not \ find It in her heart to leave her alone In lur misery. For two long years, therefore, sli • devoted herself to her kinswoman and gave her 11s good cure as if she had been a wealthy, paying patient. And the aunt's disposl;lon softened wonder fully at tie List, and Priscilla confide I her > cret about the old house to her Aft-r her death there was a great surprise for Prisi ilia. Her aunt li.id left all her property to her. There was more than any one had suspected and the will expressed the old lady's; wish that Priscilla should use the I money to buy and repair the old place ] on the hill. After the place was actually bought' ihere was much to be done. Carpen ters and masons and paiuters were i:opt at work for weeks. The yard was made tidy, and after that the in side of the house was cleaned and r.' . paired. It was in .Tune that everything was done and Priscilla had moved her; »uut s 01a tasnionea lurmture into tne house. The old couple who had lived in the ell still stayed, and the woman was Priscilla's housekeeper. Then Priscilla found that her legacy was greatly reduced and that sho must I goto work. So she went to nursing 1 again with a light heart. And now it was old home week, and' ns one feature of the occasion she had thrown open her house and was to read a paper to the guests telling some of the most interesting stories about j the place. She bad furnished the rooms as nearly as possible like what they hnd been when the family lived there. Th"re was not a modern Diece | of furniture in the whole house, and I she had even been able to procure some of the very articles that had once furnished it. At last she saw her guests coming. She colored as she recognized one fig ure among the others, lie was the only one of the old family name who had taken the least interest in the old place. To be sure, he was merely the great-grandson of the last of the fam ily to live there, and he had never seen it til! this week. But he had taken an intense Interest in what Priscilla had done, and somehow she had seen a good deal of him during the week. Priscilla's heart beat high as she went slowly down the old staircase to meet her guests. Richard look'd uncertainly about the j dim old room. In a moment his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, find he went cjnickly over to where Priscilla crouched sobbing 011 th. floor. Cor old brocaded gown lay in 1- Ms about her, and the arm on which lior.head was bowed rested 011 the old I chair by the fireplace. "What has happened?" cried Rich-! nrd in alarm. lie lifted her gently t" her feet, and for a moment she rested heavily against Ids shoulder. Then she drew away and sank into her chair. "I am very sorry you found me this way," she said tremulously. "I—l thought you were gone and that 1 was all alone." "Wait a minute," said the younc man. with practical thought fulness, "till we have some light, and then you must tell me what troubles you." Priscilla silent. She could hear the low murmur of voices i'i tlie next room, where the housekeeper and bor husband were. Richard lighted the candles 011 the high mantel and one 011 the table; then he drew his chair nearer and sat down fi< itig Priscilla. They were two striking figures in the dim setting of the old room. Both were very good to look upon, she it; her gown of a century ago. he In mod ern dress. "I suppose it is foolish," she said, "and hysterical and all that, but I couldn't li. p It. I v.-.s so happy this afternoon, and this is the reason." "But what is it';'' he asked, looking perplexed. "It all seems so futile!" she cried j "You know how I have worked and. i planned to restore this house to what it was, but it is no use. It was a home, but Ir is not now, and I cannot | make it a home. Besides that, it Poems. | now that I have done all I could, that I I was pr-'-uaiptuous to undertake it. I Kvery one seems to think I have done ! great things, but what right hid I? Oh," she cried passionately, "why I couldn't you have doue it? You are one of the family!" "Priscilla." he said, and she gave a j little start and looked at him with | dilated eyes. "I understand how you feel, and I I' wish I had done it. but there is a bet tor way—a way in which you can make it a home and even bear the old farn* I ily name." His face was very serious, | and he looked at her with searching I earnestness. He rose to his feet and held out his arms. "Don't you understand, l'ris cilla?" he s.ild In a thrilling voice. And Priscilla understood and smiled fit him through happy tears. MISTAKES IN TITLES. "Love's Discourses" Has Nothing to Do With Cupid's Pranks. it is interesting to collect certain of the instances of mistakes in regard to the titles of hooks. Thus the old farm er who asked for "Edgwortli on Irish Bulls" got no doubt something he did not expect, and the dainty youtli who applied for "I.ove's Discourses" did not really wish a volume of sermons by Christopher I.ove. If application is made by messenger, mistakes of a dif ferent sort may occur. An excitable boy once asked for Bishop Cocks and Hen's "Earnest Communicant;" he I meant Bishop Oxenden's. Similarly by Warne's "Moral Cookery" he meant j his "Model Cookery." A maid forgot i all about the title of the book she had j been sent for except that it wa> "something like tomato soup." She was served with "Bed Pottage." It may have been a fault of pronun ciation on the part of the purchaser who asked for "rubber bands" that he received a copy of "Robert Burns," but it was certainly the bookseller who I was at sea who referred an applicant for "Vega's I.ogarithmic Tables" to the I "funlture department." In cataloguing j booksellers frequently err. Thus Mr : Madan, the Oxford scholar, who wrott ! a grammar and dictionary of the Swa [ heli language, had those works cata ! logued as "Madam Swahell's Gram j mar" and in the line beneath, "Do. do. | Dictionary." Recently, too, a book of Mr. I.ueas", "A Swan and ITer Friends," giving an account of Miss Seward, "the swan of Lichfield," was j classified as "Annie Swan and Her Friends."—Manchester < Juardian. That Settled It. Tiie commissioners in lunacy were nonplused. The man on whose mental com!if ion the courts had appointed them to pass seemed perfectly sane it spite of all testimony to the contrary Hi* 1 action, his every remark was rit! • I. They were about to givt up in (I -pair when matters took an unexpe, . •! turn. "Oh, doctor, permit me to re:urn the umbrella I borrowed ; from you last week," said the patient. | And then, at the thought of earning their fees with no qualms of cc n science, the learned men decided that any one who would voluntarily return a borrowed umbrella should be placed under restraint . This simply proves how trifles will [ ever mold our destiuies. —New York ' Times. He Followed Directions. [ Red tape leads one to curious | lengths. A writer iu the Columbus ! Dispatch tells of a street railway car ! that picked up a young heifer on its. I fender and carried it some distance I through the street. j In making out the required report to the superintendent the employee wrote in answer to the query on the blank form, "What did the victim say?" "She was carried along on the fender j and then rolled off and ran r.way without saying a word." Life is a little gleam of time between two eternities. -Carlyle. HER BUHNER MUSHROOMS, In the Train of the Disaster Came Happiness. By ANITA CARR. [Copyrighted, 1909, by Associated Literary Press. ] Flighty—that was what tho nice, motherly old ladies of Hillside called Carrie Danielson. Now, if a person happens to be very tail and correspond ingly broad and wears No. (i shoes no body ever applies that adjective to her. If you are flighty it stands to reason you are small and fluffy an i never quiet. That had been Carrie's description through her girlhood and early married life. She was a pretty little thing, but with strength enough of character in her face in spite of her tilted nose and small, red mouth and curved cheek had any one stopped to consider those attractions as modified by the resolute chin and angle of the head. She loved the gayetles of life and the sunshine. Happiness surrounded her as an aureole, and sho ran from trouble, to the displeasure of her crit ics who fastened the adjective upon her. She and Tom were happy those three years before the railway accident that "I—l HAVEN I TIME TO HE HAPPY." ended his life and for a time crippled her. , j 1 till side never hid liked Carrie Dan- I ielson so well ns during th >so months when it could trout her as helpless and j nurse and command her. She was in ' their ha:' Is, and her neighbors rioted I in the placid joy of doing good unto j one who had never seemed to yearn I for their counsel or advice. They had planned it all out in those first sad 1 days after the accident what Car -1 rie s'aoiil 1 i'o after she had fully re -1 ■ covered. "Of course she will sell this ooi ! tage." Mrs Barnes said during one of ; the long night watches "They'd Just | got it 1 aid for too! She can go li k to her folks. It's too b: I they moved 1 away when they did!" I "Yes," agreed Mrs. Croft, "she'll j have t.. Torn didn't leave her any -1 thing besides Hie cottage. Sh • can't ; live on air. and she's not the go-nhead | sort who can do tilings for themselves j Carrie's always boon so flighty." 1 When t'.irrle Danielson finally got . | well and was able togo about as ; usual, very pale and quiet In her Mack clothes and different from the gay ai 1 j laughing girl they had always known. Hillside was disgruntled and shocked \ by the upset 1 ing of all Its plans 112 ir t her. "No," she told the man who wanted to buy her cottage: "I'm gol ■; to keen it and stay right here, it Is home to me. Ir Is not for sale." Mrs Barnes went over at once when the Hows Toadied her. "Carrie," *!■ • began abruptly, "how are you going to do it? What are you going to live on?" There was a faint gleam of tho old j humorous smile on Carrie's lips ns sho surveyed her inquisitor's grimly disap I proving face. "I'm going to grow j mushrooms," she announced, "and ! ship them to Now York." ! Perhaps had it been any other com ! modity than inush' - onis Hillside would j not haves 'oih. d with disapproval as it did Mushrooms to them were oh j joots of st; ;.li ion, classed with wo V 1 I and othi obnoxious products of 11a • ture, without which the human race t could get along famously. I That th to were enough persons in the v, -M \ !n> y- ir :cd r.r mushrooms 1 to give C i.-ri.> a living Income seemed highly improbable, but all the protests : were met I" her with facts, fi 'itres j and method 112 r she had studied the subject th r uglily before deciding to | go Into it. The determination with which r.t-e j clung tu hr project was another maf tor for surprise. No one had drear.u d she had «u ii persistence In her. And the mushroom sheds were built aid the beds made, and Carrie started in l business The first check Carrie received from ' the big New York hotel she cried over j before half the women of the town had gazed up- 11 It with their own eyes and j had soon money really was forthcom | ing for the queer creamy white fungi | that had been so carefully packed in ! baskets and put on the train by their 1 grower's own hands. • j It was not such a large check, but it was something, and she had earned it. From then on Hillside had to ad ! niit „that possibly Carrie had more • | brains than had been Imagined. Still, j they could not at once abandon the | oversight they kept upon her. ! "She will never outgrow her flightl ! ness." Mrs. Barnes said one day."l met her downtown in this cold, raw j wind with 110 fur around her neck and j Just a lace blouse over her throat. 11 Carrie needs some one to look after 1 her " "Oh, she'll marry again," said Mr- Croft comfortably. "She's too prett* not to. And there's no sense In bos- I living alone in that little cottage and | growing those toadstools—well, the , j look just the same, anyway—all tin- I rest of her life! I White would he pretty attentive t>> j I her if she'd let him, and he's u fine ! man." Yet, when Dr. White soon after I asked Carrie to marry him she shook | her head with a faint 111 tie smile and refused him. "It Isn't that I don't ap preciate you." she said, with an in | stinct to soften her refusal, "but. you ' see, I'm so busy here. I—l haven't time to be happy." Yet there was a pans of regret in her heart as she watched his tall flg -1 ure down the hill, for their cheer fr 1 comradeship had brightened her days. lie h ''l brought her books and par.i phlets on her work, had advised and j sympathized, and she knew she would [ miss his brief but almost dally calls. Hut love, she told herself, she was done with. Time had, softened her ' sorrow, but for her she thought the ordinary happy life of a woman was 1 over and finished. Dr. White after a time bravely tried > 1o renew their former unsentimental oomnd.'ship. but that, too. seemed do I stroyed and the attempt a farce. I"I ' in't do it, Carrie." he broke out i hoarsely one day."l love you, and I - can't pretend not to! I'm going away, i i Oh. Europe—Japan—anywhere to get away!" » And he went, oi'd the days drag -'ri ton. each one opening a little wider the eyes of the woman in the snial' cot tage as to what really was in her heart. P.ttt bravery was a part of Car rie Danlelsm's v ry n iture, and nobody ; guessed. "I guess Carrie didn't give a rap be cause Dr. White went to Europe," Mrs. Barnes said to Mrs Croft. ' She's just as smiling and bright as i • r!" "She's getting kind of peakiil look ■ ing, seems to mo," commented Mrs Croft shrewdly. It was an overturned lamp that brought dK tster to Carrie. Amid the frantic strug-les and shouts of the In efficient If!!!.-ld' tire department her cottage and mushroom sheds I urned to the ground Site took it very resignedly when it happened, but the next day, wander | ing alone around the l>la< kened pile, her nerves pave way. She was crying qul'tly, sitting on the charred remnants of a I when Dr White found her. lie had come straight to her from the train. Per is he took courage from her very forlomness and discouragement, s> diiTerent from her usual bright self reliance. "I'm glad it happened!" he said ct: phatically. "Glad because now mayb" ! you'll have time to think of me a lit tle bit!" ! "I—l've thought of you a lot," Carri • , ' Danieison admitted as she dabbed h " eyes and made Instinctive passes at her tumbled hair. It was good t<> see him again, j I>r White deliberately sat down on the blackened box and reached for her i hand. "Now we'll talk it over!" he \ I said. One For the Minister. 1 i An old minister in the south side of i Glasgow who was noted for his habit of dishing up old sermons again and ngain was one day advertised to preach In a suburban church at the anniversary service there. An old wo f ! man who in days gone by had sat un t der his mi: istry, but who had now re k moved from his neighborhood, deter -1 mined togo in and hear him preach on this particular occasion. After the 1 close of the service she waited on the clergyman, who greeted her cordially t and asked what she thought of bis dls i course. "Eh. man," she replied can didly, "it's a lang time sin' I first heard ye preach that yln, sir, and I've t heard ye at it a gitid wheen o' times s j sin' syne." "Aye, Janet," said the minister. 1 "llow often do ye think ye've heard it, na?" "oh, about a rilzzen o' times, i sir," she replied "An" div ye mind it a'?" said the minister. "Aweel, maybe no* It a', sir." "Weel, I see I'll need to i preach it to ye again, Janet," said the minister, and Janet (elt that she had • been sold for once Settled a Great Question. When Thomas II Benton was In the - house he was of the opinion that the 3d day of March and consequently the 1 congressional term ended at midnight ! of that day Instead of at noon on the • ' 4tli, as unbroken usage had fixed it. So on the last morning he sat with his hat on, talked loudly, loafed about the I floor and finally refused to vote or answer to his name when the roll was called. At last the s|ieaker, the 1 Hon. Janus 1,. Orr of South Carolina, picked him up and put an end to these legislative larks. ; "X i, sir: no. sir; no, sir!" shouted ♦he venerable Mlssourian. "I will not vote. 1 have no right to vote. This is no house, and I am not n member of i it." ; "Then, sir," said Speaker Orr like a I flash, with his sweetest manner, "if the gentleman is not a member of this house the sergeant at. arms will please ■ put'-him out." i i And so this vast constitutional ques tion settled itself. Argonaut. Handy With an Ax. ! i One Important feature In connection trtt h the conducting of mining oi«>rn I tlons in Sjboriu is the aptitude of the 1 Kussian workman for the as. Wood Is so plentiful in the country that mln 1 ; Ing timbers may be figured on at s ' ! low rate. The current anecdote that a : Russian workman will for a twenty ! kopeck piece lay his left hand, with fingers spread, on a board and with 1 full strength make an as cut between each finger cannot be vouched for, but : It is certainly truo that In pick timber I Ing in bad ground, In erecting build t ings. log cabins and all manner of i wood Joining the equal of the Russian I>easant cannot be found. London > ! Globe. ■ : No one deserves to be praised for i goodness unless he has strength to be bad. All other goodness Is most often [ ! only sloth or weakness of will. —La ! Rochefoucauld, t " ' It Is better to lend than to give. To . 1 give employment is better than either I —Talmud PILGRIM MEMORIAL. Erection of Giant Cross at Marsh field Hills, Mass., Proposed. GREATEST OF MONUMENTS. Striking Feature Suggested For Cele bration of Three Hundredth Anni versary of Landing of the Pilgrims. Grand Electric Display and Search light Planned. A "'historical aud moral celebra* j tlon" of the three hundredth anniver i sary of the landing of the pilgrims is proposed for 1020 by Alvlu A. Vinal, who is a descendant of the pilgrims, j a member of the Pilgrim society and a I former member of the Society of May j flower Descendants. In plans which he bus prepared for the event Mr. VI ! Qui suggests the heights of Marsfifleld | ailis, Massachusetts, where he Is a i resident, for the celebration, which he | thinks would be good for Boston as | well as Plymouth, since it would at j tract visitors from all over the world, i "Trinity bills," he says, "are the high est land In Plymouth county, overlook- I ing all the pilgrim land and bay from I Cape Cod to Boston. Miles out at sea I and Inland the exposition buildings j would show to enticing advantage, I especially to shipping passing in aud j out of Boston. An electrical display is one of the great charms of modern ex ] positions, and buildings on these great elevations in oue blaze of glory ut night would be one of the greatest sights ever witnessed. On the bay it self the navies of the world could meet and view the whole exhibition. Here are great springs, guaranteeing the purest water supply, with ample river power for the electric display and power for the exposition. Two great lakes can easily be made, anil there are wooded groves for park purposes. "Among other features in commemo ration of this great anniversary cele bration I propose a great monumental permanent cross of stone and steel, the tallest In the world, to stand for ail time and be the great feature of the exhibition. From the top and arms will be the grand lookout over the pil grim land and water of Massachusetts bay, to which the people will come for all time. The cross will be one blaze of electricity, making at night the most sublime display ever witnessed. When surmounted by the largest searchlight its beauty and meaning would be impressed forever on passen gers on the foreign steamships passing to and from Boston." The grounds of the exhibition are to be laid out in the form of a cross. Mr. Vinal also suggests the erection on one of the hills by the churches of the world of a permanent church of stone containing the largest meeting room In the world to be devoted to ' historical meetings and addresses by the great revivalists, preachers and lecturers of the world," with "great chime bells pealing from its tower the anthems of the pilgrims. A great while stone the only oue of Its kind known, typicn' of the event, should be the pulpit on which will rest the baptismal basin, t. be the baptismal tank, for here thou sands will desire to be baptize 1 lute the larger life. "On another hill will bo the greatest wireles- station and a water t >wei supplying tin- exhibiti 'ii. <»: i th • pla teau will ri-e the great hotel and roo: garden built by gifts from the hotel.- of the world, the Puritan building do nated by New England families ant] containing their exhibits, a great r. 11 glous museum contributed to by al the wjirld i.ud built by the c.muty o: Plymouth, a great electrical plant bull; so as to make a great lake, damming North river and giving great watei power such as such an exhibition wll \ require. On the lake will be enacted 'daily the parting, sailing aud landing of the pilgrims In a ship representing the Mayflower." It is proposed by Mr. Vinal t I the: cross, t i cost $1,000,000 or t:; re. Ac cording to the response, be built by contributions of $5 each from the churches of the world, a s< uvenlr gold cross being issued to each contribu tor. To ministers a cross with a dia mond In the center at ¥25 each will b< Issued. For contributions to the ex penses of the exhibition he suggests "the golden book of honor, a greal subscription book, in which the name* of givers of $ 1,000 or more will be re corded ; the five million book, it which the names of all giving $5 will be recorded, each to receive a passable dollar coined by the government as its gift to the exhibition; the golden roll, a framed roll recording the gifts ot those who give SIOO,OOO to the exliibt tlon." An admission fee of 23 cents will be charged to enter the cross. A great religious pilgrim revival t< culminate In the celebration of 1920 is finally suggested by Mr. Vinal. "Lei the committees •.f the ministers of al denominations," he says, "inaugurate the continuance of the present revival and the 1015 movement into a great revival and let all pastors everywhere urge their congregations to become members of the church and possessors of the little crosses of gold which nr< to be Issued only to church member who aid by their purchase the build Ing of the memorial anniversary cross the greatest monument ever erected It the world. Let all Christians wea. these badges as acknowledgment ol the alliance that the power of Chris tian lives may be carried everywher and upheld openly." Finally Mr. Vinal suggests the 112 r mation of a committee of a hundrei representative citizens to meet for ar rangemeut of the details at the Plym outh Memorial church nt Boston in the week beginning July 4 e>r Sept. 1(1.- Boston Herald. Not Encouraging. A pastor in a rural church not fai from Milwaukee announced the wed ding In his church during the follow Ing week of two of Ills parishioners. He followed the announcement with the title of the h.vnm which was then to be sung. It was "Mistaken Souls That Dream e>f Heaven!"— Milwaukee Free Press. Every man who rises to any profes sion must tread a path moro or lea bedewed by the tears of those! hi pusses on his way.—Bayne. THE AUBURN HAIRED GIRL, A Courtship That Began Under Peculiar Circumstances. By ANITA W. EDGERLEY. (Copyright, 130 D. l>y Associated literary Press.] Half si mile north of the Stevens farmhouse, whore Miss Irene Kings land, from the city, was visiting lie:' aunt and uncle, was the byroad lend ing to what was called the glen. There was a glen with a cascade, and it \\a rather a wild and rocky sj>>t. It was a quarter of a mile from the main road, and on this byroad lived a widow with an auburn haired daugh ter sixteen years old. After Miss Irene had been at the farmhouse fur a week and had bee-one familiar with the tight of cblek ens, geese and an old rooster blind ::i one eye she was told about the glen and was anxious to see it. The road was plain before her. Take the lirst turn to the right and she was there. She was told about the byroad, but not a"bout the auburn haired girl. In this world there are always s- inn l things left out to make us trouble at a future date. The young lady of nineteen started out bravely, and her spirits were u/i --rutlled until she turned into the by road. There she came across the au burn haired tiirl sitting on a log by the roadside. The proper way would have been for her to stop and ask a ques tion or two about the glen and thus open up a pleasant conversation. Unfortunately she took another way. She held herself stltlly erect and passed on. The auburn haired girl, who was almost as pretty as Miss Irene, fol lowed her. Miss Irene heard her foot steps, but would not look back. Au burn hair coughed and began to hum a tune, but it was no use. .Tust how long it takes an auburn haired girl to get her dander up has never before been recorded for use of Ihe agricultural or any other depart ment. In this case it was four min utes. She had heard of Miss Irene as being "from the city" and of being haughty an 1 having at least two hats, and she ached to take her down a peg From a distance of ten feet in the rear she remarked quietly that some folk cousidered other folk as dirt be neath their feet. Miss Irene reached the glen with flashing eyes and blazing cheeks, and of course she could not be expected t > find any grandeur or romance. The moss grown rocks were there, and the waters cas-aded, but they were naught to the humiliated and indignant girl. She would g > home, but she could n't go by the same route and pass t'i it young minx again and receive mn • "sauce." She would go by the tie!.ls and woo ls. it was i.i carrying out this do; ip mitiation that she soon found herself in an old el> aring and realized that she was lost. Sh ■ had started to weep over it when another female entered the clearing and advanced toward her. The newc >mer was a lady of thirty, and she was also lost She had uot been lost in leaving the glen, but in seeking to find it. She was cool and calm and did not fear that tlicy could not find their way to the highroad after a rest. As t: ■ c tiple sat on a 1 .g t I r.:i!. events wer> happening elsewhere The auburn haired giri had gonednwn to the main road, and as she reached it a young man came driving aloi • in a bug-y. Sh • recognized him as youn„ Merritiehl. a lawyer in liellville, live miles away. Hav ing all the law there was eti his side, hew i< iu>t afraid a pretty girl even when he didn't kn iw her. lie ehe i;ed his horse when near her and said: "Say. miss, hare you heard that one of the 112 male patients in the Hellville Insane asylum es aped this morning " "No!" she replied, with deep a:. 1 cited interest and prepared t > lis:, a "Yes. and when 1.-it seen she w.i headed this way. I am going over to Liverpool, and they wanted m 1 to spread the news as ! drove :i.:i r Don't suppose you hive seen anything of a stray female around here?" "Oh, but I have. She passed here an hour ag>> on her way to the glen. I thought she was queer In her head. Yes; you'll find her at the glen." It was the pretty girl's opportunity «c n rival, and she took it. The law yer decided that If sh'> would ride to j the glen with him. to soothe and calm j the patient in case she was violent, I he would make an effort to return the | patient to the authorities. The giri I chuckled and climbed into the buggy. Of course Miss Irene was not found at the glen, but the lawyer was a Sherlock Holmes in his way. lie i looked about and found fragments of ; her wardrobe sticking to the rails of | a fence she had climbed, and. leaving | the horse and buggy and enthusiastic ally followed by Auburn Ilair, he clung ; to the trail until the clearing was reached. i "That's her!" exclaimed Auburn Hair as she pointed to Miss Irene and | smiled wickedly. If the lawyer hadn't been a lawyer lie would have advanced and seized the guilty party and thrown her over ; his shoulder and started for the bug j gy, but lawyers don't rush in where angels fear to tread. Here were two females. Indeed, with Auburn Hair, there were three. He hadn't a description of the es caped patient. He had been was a "youngish" female The three were "youngish." It might be any one of them. It might be the one who had given \ him the information. Insane people I are cunning and up to all sorts of tricks. "Well, why don't you take her?" de ! manded Auburn Hair maliciously i "Sir, what does this mean?" asked | Miss Irene as she drew herself tip, | "Sir, what does this mean?" asked ■ the strange lady as she did likewise • "Why—why," stammered the lawyer, I "oue of you has escaped from the asy : lum at Bellville. lam here to ask you to return with me. You shall have a j nice ride in my buggy, and if you ara . very quiet I'll let you drive the horse. ! The asylum is a nice place, you know j —nice place. It's homelike and nice— I very—and—and"— I "It's her!' .vpeated Auburn Hair, pointing ngalu to Miss Irene us the confused lawyer looked from one to another. "You are- C.ip one!" sternly and trag lcally whispered tile strange ladv n» she pointed at the auburn haired girl in turn. "By George! Ry George!" gasped tlit*. lawyer as lie rubbed the back of his head. The pose lasted sixty seconds; then the lawyer ral ied his wits. Auburu Hair had on »n old frock and was hat less. She n.ust be the one who bad es caped an I he must be taken back. "Now. Hi ■ be very quiet and very nice." lie s .id ia a s lothlng way as he took her hand. •'Von are going home, you know. You are going where every on*' !<<•• you. If you are good and a!"e you shai'. have a Teddy bear to play with. Cone along, dear—come right along. I'erhaps you two ladies wouldn't mind accompanying us until we reach the buggy." The tables had been turned on poor little Auburn Hair, but she was no tim id fawn despite her very evident good looks. She scratched, and as he de fended himself as best he could the strange lady rose up and clasped Miss Irene in her arms and went dancing around and singing and laughing. The four were fouud thus when au attendant of the sisylutu rushed into the charing v.tr.l ad a. -ed to exclaim: "Good heavens' Only one escaped, and here are four!" It took five minutes to straighten out the tangle. The strange lady wis j the escaped patient. Of course Auburn Hair had g >t tli • worst of it al! ar. :n That's what this one did. ROBERT ADAM. ! Hi Created a New Era In English Architecture. | Robert Adam (1725-921 was to Eng lish architecture what Benvenuto Cel lini was to that of Italy. He was ar chitect to the king, beloved at court, a member of parliament, and it was said of liini that he "could not help adorning all that he touched." Those of the English people who dwell in Adam Bouses prize them as rare Jew- « els. Adam introduced into English ar chitecture a lightness, delicacy of touch and charm of proportion which. 1 i It had never before possessed and ' which gave his name to that splendid 1 period of architecture the style of which lasted over a century. Every thing in a house, from the panel in a ceiling to the vases and gilt wood tri pods and branches f'>r lights, from hangings at the windows to a wom ; an's hairpin holder, Adam designed | himself. Adam got his rich, beautiful and 'distinctive style front the ruins of the Emperor Diocletian, at Spalato. As a finish to interiors he conceived the idea of using figures in relief upon walls, colored and adorned according to Itaphael's Stanzc painted tint ttpoa the walls of the Vatican. His Idea was as bold as its result was beautl ful. He also adopted I'ompeiian styles of decoration. "Adam was artist as well as archi tect. and his walls, ceilings an I inte j rior adornments are marvels <>f har monious ( olors," says an architect. "He employed no less personages than Angelica Kaufman and Zueehi to paint many of the panels and medallions let into his ceilings, and it was bis habit to have carpets woven to match the pattern overhead and harmonize with the color there employed. The key note of Adam's style is 'movement,' combined with perfect artistic fitness, and it is peculiar fur Its grace and statellness."—New York Tribune. Trying to Explain. Howell- What did you mean by say ing that 1 would never set the world on fire? Powell—l meant that you were too much of a gentleman to do ft.—Exchange. ! When yon have written a wrathful j letter put it In the stove.—Lincoln. SPMCTflTtffl i ail 'ft I Tli\ SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne Conarai Joh Work. Stoves. Heaters, Ran*e« s Furnaces, ato. PRICES TUB 1,0 WEST! QIiIUTV TAB BEST! JOHN IIIXSOJV HO. lie E. FKOifT BT. ,