HOVfljy IN PAROLES | What Kansas Penitentiary Pris oners Must Do to Get Out. AGREE TO ATTEND CHURCH. Also Prayer Meeting and Sunday School Once Each Week—Require ment the Idea of Governor Stubbs Change In Tone of Appeals From Convicts. Governor Stubbs of Kansas lias es- | iablishcd a new requirement in the paroling anil pardoning of prisoners ; in the state penitentiary. Hereafter ; when a convict is liberated on parole , or by absolute pardon be must stipu late in writing that he will regularly attend church, Sunday school and prayer meeting once each week. If tbe prisoner is pardoned the governor j will have no recourse if the agreement is violated, but a paroled prisoner i could tie returned to the penitentiary. The parole law of Kansas provides ! that a convict must agree to keep away from bad associates, seek em- j ploymeut and lead a moral life. "I have added church going and S Sunday school service to the list." 1 Governor Stubbs said, "because it is i the kind of influence which ought to i surround every man or woman who comes out of a state penitentiary. I , shall insist upon this agreement front every prisoner paroled, no matter how exemplary has been his conduct in the penitentiary." Governor Stubbs does not believe j much in the innocence of men or wom en who get into the penitentiaries of j the country. He entertains high opin- ! ions of courts and juries that try and \ convict them, and ho does not believe i t governor should set aside their judg- ; iuents. The governor's attitude has become j known in the stale penitentiary, and | the letters which are being received i at the executive office in Topeka from ' convicts are of a different tenor from those that came during the late Hoch | administration. Governor Stubbs must ' also be convinced that a man is peni- j tent before be will grant a parole or ! pardon, even if the judge, the jury and j the prosecuting attorney who convict- ■ ed him petition for the man's release. ! He says penitence is one of the world's ' greatest virtues. in the Kansas institution, where more than 1,000 prisoners are incar- ! "erated, he says there are many who ! are contrite and penitent and who j would make good and useful citizens if ! released. These are the men who will j receive favors from Governor Stubbs, j but those who write telling of their i innocence do not receive much con | si del "a t inn unless they possess the pen itent spirit. Governor Stubbs wonders if his ex perience is similar to that of other executives throughout the country. If ! he were to believe all the letters writ- j ten to him by convicts not less than 90 per cent of the men in the peni- I tentiar.v are absolutely innocent, ano ! the other JO percent are only partially guilty. Occasionally the governor receives a | letter from a convict who doesn't pre tend to be innocent. One of this kind which canto in the mails a few days ago contained a sharp fling at former Governor Hoch. who, it lias been re ported, pardoned the murderer Arnold because he wrote a sentimental poem. The convict's name is withheld by Governor Stubbs. but his letter fol lows: JlHl -ing from what I have read, from eonvi i nations hold with inmates of this penitentiary, I have arrived at the con clusion that 1 am the only guilty scamp in this place. I can't plead innocence, I can i write a classical poem, and t have no "flowers blooming in ill*.* conservaloi > of my soul." you have no idea how lone- ! some this iea\rs me. lletter kick me out 1 of here lest I corrupt the morals of tills | institution. This letter is written in a remark- j ably line hand. While the letter is re freshing in that it is different from j hundreds of others received from the j -arac institution, it is likely thnt before he grants any favors to this convict the governor will recommend that lie begin the cultivation of "flowers in ! the conservatory of his soul.'' This j expression has been used in jest many times since it was first. uttered by former Governor Iloeli before the grad uating classes of the State university, i but Governor Stubbs believes in the idea it conveys. Ordinarily the convicts write that their morals, which were good when the\ went into the penitentiary, are being corrupted by the many criminals around them and that they want to get out where they can lead useful ; lives. Some of these who have heard i of Governor Stubbs' requirement as to church going have written him that they desire to be released so that they may have the advantages of church and v unday school work, to which they • Ter to devote the remainder of their lives, due of these offered to join ; uy church the governor would suggest. The executive is an old fash ioned 'Quaker, but be will not use his power in behalf of that sect. 1 he first parole to contain the new church going condition was issued re cently. Charles Class was serving a sentence for robbing a sehoolhouse in j Stafford county. His father died, and i the friends of the family asked Gov- | ernor Stubbs by wire to parole him | so he could attend the funeral. The ' if over nor granted the parole, but not tintti he bad conferred with the warden by long distance telephone and learned that Glass had earned his release by good behavior.—Topeka (Kan.) Tor. New York Sun. Another Way to Escape. "Papa." "What is it, Theobald r "May I ask you a question?" "Certainly you may, my child. It is only by asking questions that we can improve our minds and prepare our selves for our work in the world. I am glad to note a spirit of inquiry in you, and I hope you may never arrive at the place where you think you know it all and cease to solicit information from others. What Is your question, my son?" "I forget, papa."—Newark News. THE DOUBLE CQKSPIRACf. It Suited the Young Lovers. So They Obediently Eloped. i By KATHERINE AMORY. J [Copyright, 19u9, by Associated Literary Press.] j Ex-Judge Sherman and the Hon. I Samuel Morton had been friends for i years. They belonged to the same ! church and the same party, lived witli | in sight of each other, and away back i when Walter Morton was in knicker i boekers and Edith Sherman wore her i hair in a single braid down her back the fathers hinted to each other about j n possible marriage. Their friendship had often been tested, but had stood I the strain. It was only a natural sequence that when Walter was twenty and Edith ' eighteen Cupid should begin to play his pranks. There was to be no mar ; riage yet for two or three years, but the fathers looked on and winked at I each other. Things were coming out as they had hoped for. They didn't see the shadow sitting j between them, but it was there. Nei ' ther man had been a too ambitious | politician. If such lind been the case the shadow would have come long be > fore. Graft and politics mix, but friendship stands aside. But suddenly one day the trouble came. Without notice a committee waited on the ex-judge and asked liitn to take tile nomination for representa tive in congress. On the same day a second committee waited on the hon i orable and asked him to do the same thing. Neither of the gentlemen had ever | expressed a wish togo to congress. Why should political ambition sudden ly flame up now. Probably because of ' the spirit of rivalry inherent in every S human breast. Ea< li heard of the hon |or tendered the other. Yet it was in | the most brotherly spirit that they met j again. During the tirst live minutes each offered to stand aside for the j other. During the next ten each de ; cidcd that lie ought to accept. I At the end of half an hour there was j acrimony. Then came the break. The men part | ed in wrath. The party mauagel's were '''' \ 1 SHE SPJUNO OFF HKIt CHAIR AND TOOK \ HIDDEN INTKKf sr IN LIFE cute enough to realize Uiut with tla two opposed to each other the battle would be lost, and finally the noniiua tion went to another. But the harm had been done. The e.\-jlldgo and the honorable were out and saying hard tilings of each other. Of course the break reacted oil the lovers. They refused to lie bound by it. but the outlook was gloomy. The ex-judge said to his daughter when the matter was brought up: "I always liked Walter, but I think you had best call tiiis matter off and have done with it. You can't expect I to marry a son of my enemy and i take any comfort. Who is the lion, j Samuel Morton, I'd like to know, to j think himself the only man in this district to represent it in the house? j Think of the impudence of it!" And when Walter came home from college and spoke of his marriage as if i the break had nothing to do with the lovers the honorable, his father, was prompt to say: "Edith is a nice girl and a sweet girl, but she must have inherited more or less of her lather's disposition. He was insolent to me, my boy insolent to your father! After due thought 1 be lieve you will give Edith up." After due thought Waller decided not to do any such thing. He was not prohibited from calling, though all the family except Edith kept out of the way. .lust how or when things would mend was worrying the brains of the lovers not a little when the puzzle was solved in a most unexpected way. The Hon. Morton invited his son into the library to say to him "Walter, you do not seem to have given Ediih up yet?" "No, sir," was the firm reply. "I'm sure you can never get the eon sent of the judge." "We slic 11 wait and hope." "Cm: I ,'t know but what I have a better plat:. 1 have nothing against the girl. I ill I would like to get square with her lather. I'm sure that he's waiting to refuse you her hand. It was just such a case when I married your mother, and what did I do? Got bor to elope with me." "But, father, you don't mean"— "But I do. The father don't want you to marry the daughter Therefore marry her." And it might have been on the name evening and at the same hour that the judge said to his daughter after scold ing her forgoing about with tears In her eyes and bet- face giving warning of an early decline: "Edith, the Hon. Samuel Morton thinks that son of his too good for you. and if he knows you are worrying it will be cake for him." "I don't think he feels that way, papa," was tbe bumble reply. "But I know tbe old man, you see. He's good at heart, but he's obstinate beyond belief, and politics has spoiled hiui sadly, I think, however, Walter , takes after his mother. You are en gaged to him, are you?" "Y-yes " ,: Tiien I wooldn't let his father spoil I your life. I'd marry Walter in spite of j him." "Oh, papa, but bow?" exclaimed the girl as she sprang off her chair and ' took a sudden Interest in life. I 1 "What did your mother and I do | when my father objected?" j "You eloped. She's told me about it I | a dozen times! Oh, papa, if Walter j only would elope!" Walter was willing, as be informed ! | her on the next night. In fact, he bad I | decided that was the only thing to do. | ■ | All he feared was that she might not j I consent, and it filled bis soul with Joy . j to learn that she would. ■ | For very good reasons neither of the j 1 | lovers mentioned tlie fact that their re I spective fathers had counseled elope ; | nient as the panacea. They decided to j go at it and lay their plans so care fully that failure need not be feared. . j A few days later tbe Hon. Samuel : Morton said to his son: > "Walter, in regard to that little af -1 j fair, you might extend the honeymoon trip to Europe and give that mule of a father of hers time to get over it. Bet i ! ter take this check for $3,000 now. There will lie no farewells when you • j elope." "Then you don't think the judge would give lier to me?" "Never! He wants to get even with me, you see. Itun along now and make : your own arrangements." And again it might have been the same hour and evening when the judge said to his daughter, having first tak ■ ! en her arm and led her to a seat on the lawn: "Edith, you may remember 1 was speaking to you on a particular matter 1 a few days ago?" i "Yes, papa." "Have you anything to report at this i ! time? In other words, did you hint to Walter that if 1 continued obdurate you would be willing to brave my wrath by consenting to an elope ment?" "I just hinted something like that, papa. You know I could not come ' i right out and say so." "No, you couldn't. How did lie take ■ it?" i "He—he said be was also ready to t brave the wrath of bis father." « "Good! I trust 1 lie Hon. Samuel Morton will get a jar some of these fine mornings, if you are getting a lot of new garments together, and 1 think < you are. you may need several now trunks .lust order them. When pack ed tell William to drive them to the depot for you. If I were in Walter's place 1 believe 1 should make tbe tour of Europe. Ilis father will make a great howl over the things, and it will take several weeks for him to get his breath back. You might kiss me now. Edith, as I'm a rather sound sleeper, you know. And here's a check for SI,OOO. It's a birthday present or »omething of that sort." The lovers had decided that there tvas no cause for great haste about the elopement, but it finally came off ac cording to schedule. A visit was firs! paid to the house of a minister wlm had been seen ill the afternoon, and nfler the twain had been made oue they rode to the depot in a closed car riage and were off. No enraged and bloodthirsty parents j pursued, nor was the telegraph ap pealed t" to sti.p them at till hazards. The newly wed tried their hardest to feel seared and heroic by turns, but It was a rather tame affair. ! At breakfast next morning it was i announced hi one house that Walter 1 ' was gone and iu the other that Edith could not be found. Two mothers shed tears and two fathers chuckled. An ' | hour later the two fathers met on the street. They stopped to eye each oth ' i er, and after a moment the Hon. Sam uel Morton chuckled: ' "Well. Walter has got her in spite of • you!" "No, sir—no, sir!" chuckled the i judge. "She has got Walter In spite of j you!" "But 1 knew thev were going to ! elope!" ; "And 1 knew the same!" And after thnt what could two sun 1 ; slble men and fathers do but shake ' : hands, bridge the chasm and forward ■ | a joint telegram of congratulations? Something WhicS He Learrsd. A soft answer has not only the effect of turning away wrath; it may serve • I to avenge an injury. Years ago the I!ov. J. 11. Jones was making a visit in Boston and attended a biweekly con ference at Divinity ball. .lust at that time lie was out of sorts with the east. | ■ ' and bis address reflected an acrid mood. Es| iallj did lie Insist that "they didn't know everything down iu Judoe" or even i t Cambridge. When lie sat down there was a mo mentary hush, and then the late Dean Everett slowly rose lie began in his I usual soft and hesitating tone, "There ; are doubtless a great many things which we know and he does not." Then followed a pause, during which | each man held his breath, for the dean ; was known to carry on his lips a dag ger which let lines found its unerr ing way to the hearts of men and things, but after due pause he contin ued gently: "And chief among tlieui Is how glad we always are to see him."—Youth's I Companion. Indignant Mother's Retort. A Hushing (N. Y.i clergyman, pastor of a popular church there, received as a caller at liis parsonage the other day i a young matron carrying in her arms a chubby faced youngster. I "i want the baby christened." the 5 mother said. After the ceremony the clergyman j started to write out the baptismal cer tificate required by the board of health. : Forgetting for the moment the date of 1 1 the month, he remarked to the mother "This is the 9th, Isn't It?" "No, Indeed, sir," replied the young i matron Indignantly. "It's only the . third." Mall Delivery by Autos. Baron Goto, minister of communica tions, is Investigating the advisability of transporting mail by automobles in the principal cities of ,ia| n and also ' possibly tn distant points where rail way traffic is not yet opened. War cn Mosquitoes. • Tbe eltj . t I.elpzig Is making war on | mosquitoes A flue of $7.50 has to be ! paid by all h nseholders who fall to comply with the regulations. SPEEDY NEW AIRSHIP : Craft to Fly Sixty-five Miles In Thirty Minutes. FROM VICTORIA TO SEATTLE. ; Canadian Engineer Wagers SI,OOO He ' Will Perform the Feat With His ! Monoplane—lnventor Says Machine Will Carry Two Persons Safely at Speed of a Hundred Miles an Hour. Private tests were made at Victo- 1 j ria. It. C., tlit? other llay of*an airship which tile Inventor, William Gibson, ! ! a mechanical engineer, wagereil SI,OOO I will carry him safely to Seattle, n dis tance of sixty-live miles, within half ' i an hour when he is ready for the j flight and do the Victoria to San Fran i Cisco llight within live hours. The craft, now almost completed. Is a monoplane sixty-five feet long and radically different from other designs, i having a width of only fourteen feet. Mr. Gibson says the great speed is given by his engine, which weighs but 1 222 pounds and develops sixty horse ! power. The four nir cooled steel cyl inders weigh twelve pounds each. There are eight single blade propel | lers, four on each side, rotating in op posite directions, only one lever being I used to operate, with a steering wheel like that used on an automobile. The machine will weigh 400 pounds all told, and the inventor declares it will carry two persons 100 miles nn hour. Sufficient fuel is carried for fiOO miles flight. Sir. Gibson claims superior stability and simplicity over the Wrights' and nil existing machines and says anyone j can operate his craft. It automatie ally rights itself in any wind condi tions. as shown by the working mod el, which when started In flights up side down righted Itself in two feet like a cat falling on its ft, Should the engine stop in the air if the craft is going full speed it is asserted t lint it will tty ten miles before coming gradually down, being regulated by ! the tilting of the planes, j Mr. Gibson built a forty mile see i tion of the Grand Trunk Pacific and i afterward invented and built a sue i cessful stamp mill. He is now backed by a strong syndicate and is patenting the features of his invention In all countries. As soon as his ideas are protected he says he will make his Seattle (light of sixty-five miles over the strait of Fuca in half an hour. LIFE WITHOUT OXYGEN. So Claims Professor Mayne and Scouts Theory of Carbon Dioxide. D. I>. Mayne. principal of the Minne sota School of Agriculture, recently an I nounced the result of an experiment ' whjch lie believes lias exploded the old theory that oxygen is essential to life and that death will result from breath ing carbon dioxide, says a Minneapolis dispatch. "The "Id physiology theory la all bosh." di" l.ired Professor Mayne. Fx cretions fn in the pores, he believes, are poisonous and are fatal when one Is shut off from oxygen. To demonstrate JlUs theory Profess ) or Mayne confined a steer In a her metically scaled stall and another in i an open stall. The first animal was shut off from oxygen completely and at the end of several days was found to be in as good condition as the oth er. The experiment was repeated, with the steers exchanged in the stalls. The result was the same —both animals could live in the hermetically sealed stall without oxygen, and neither suf fered poisoning from carbon dioxide thrown out by their lungs. "The school ventilating system is un necessary." asserted Professor Mayne she looked ut him. .Tliel; Weatherby had good stuff in him and could dare tnuch. but his throat contracted as he took in her beauty, her fnigileness, her costly ar ray. Helpless, sheltered that was what Marcia was. Then lie spoke al most curtly. "I'll make It short." he said. "Listen Matvia. and see if you can compre hend. It doesn't seem possible a man could lake a fortune the size of mine and drop ii into the middle of tin ocean, but (hat's what I've done 1 Stocks. It's all gone. We haven't a penny to our name. Even this house is gone. Maybe the grocer 'll trust us, but likely not! How many meals do your think your pearls would buy?" He tlung himself into a chair, with a laugh bitt.r and hopeless, and waited, just what for he hardly knew hyster i les probably. The woman before him bent for ward. with Hp* parted "l can't quite realize" she gasped. she straightened out and walked to the wlndnw, va;ii.s nut over the lake. When she turned and came to liim she .'as smilinj. Besides the smile, there was a look he bad never seen on her face before. nn expression of Interest, of energy. "Jack," sl.e said, slipping doirn Re side him. her arms about him. "I rlcn't know why, but somehow the only An Odd Slip. t>r. Johnson ouce met the village postman trudging along the dusty road on a hot summer afternoon. The post man observed that he had still a mile to walk just to deliver one newspaper. "My goodness," exclaimed the sym pathetic doctor, "I'd never go all that distance /or such a trifle! Why don't you send it by post?" The Loafer. "Does the new office boy loaf or 1 make mischief?" 1 "Loafs." "Discharge him. Wo can direct a mischievous lad's efforts Into some, useful channel, but we can't do any ' thing with a loafer."—Buffalo Kxpress. Bobby's Query. "Father." asked little Bobby, "had , Solomon TOO wives?" "I believe so, my boy," said the -ather. "Well, father, was he the man who said, 'Give me liberty or give me I death?" "—Royal Magazine. THE TWO MIRANDAS, A Story of a Going Away and a Joyous Return Trip. By CLINTON DANGERFIELD. j When Herbert Moxon climbed out of | the wagon in front of the farmhouse gate he looked forward with all a city j boy's delight to a whole month in the ) country. j That he had never seen his aunt or uncle before did not trouble him in j the least, lie had been brought up in ; a wholesome belief in the kindness of j human nature in general and sWwcd I if. so frankly that people invariably turned their best side toward this I sunny faced lad of ten. | His uncle came hurrying down the ! box trimmed path to meet him. i "I'm glad to see ye, real glad," he I declared warmly. "I'd 'a' come my self 'stead of sendln' Lucas, but I've had the rheumatiz considerable late ly." The boy paused a second at the door i step to remark on the beauty of two j full leaved and fruited apple trees ! 'which grew almost at the threshold, j one at each side, liut to his surprise r7>^~F7-7iii 1 ' KHIO I.AV VI'IVriUNO ANI> SllilllSli ATTBK FEET IIP MIRANDA SWKKT. . i his uncle scowled slightly and hurried i him into the house. I Only the cheery voice of the fire ! welcomed him. Herbert turned ques tioningly to his uncle: "Aunt—is she well?" J Jonas Alwyn showed a momentary I confusion before the boy's clear : glance. Then ho said hastily: ! "Well? Oh, yes. But she ain't to t i home jest now—won't be fer several 1 days." • , Time sped swiftly, there was so - j much to see and to do. True, his un s , tie's disposition varied from extreme | eheeriness to fits of moody abstraction. I He proved to be so skillful a cook that he tilled his nephew with wonder, i, i "I'll bet aunt's pancakes don't beat e , yours," he remarked one morning, his i mouth full of light cakes and sirup, making the compliment a trifle indis •. ' tinct. • n Jonas started, then pushed away bis s coffee as though something had affe t ,1 ed his appetite. ii "They're a sight better," he said so i gloomily that Herbert laughed cut I. right. i."l didn't think you'd be sensitive on s the subject, uncle. When she comes il I'll tell her what you said. Have you > heard from her lately?" "Not tor say lately." "Mother thought she was here wheu i you wrote." vent on Herbert. His uncle >i"se excitedly, j "Ye don't mean it." lie declared | vehemently. "No; ye don't mean It. II 'cause ye don't know tiawthin" about git. But she ain't set foot in this house r fer eight years cotne next November." Herbert rose, pale in his turn. „ | "I'm sorry." he faltered. "1 never I. knew mother doesn't know that any thing had gone wrong." "Everything's gone wrong," said his uncle miserably. Suddenly he clutched ,i i his ncpew and hurried him to the dour, p | then down in the pathway, where he , faced him about before the two fruit , 1 trees. ; "This one," said his uncle, waving his right hand much as If he were iti i troducing a duchess, "is Miranda Sweet," and this one, "a wave to the j 1 left and t< frown, "is Miranda Sour." Herbert smothered a desire to laugh. ( i "Oh! Named after my aunt?" "Jest so! Them two are seediin's, an' I planted "cin the spring she went ! away. It's mighty queer that they come true ter the names I give 'em! , As ter In r goin' that wuz a niisunder _ j «Tandiu'. She's got prop'ty of her own. ( | about es much ez I own, an' she's i livln' on it ten miles away. I ain't" ' I he choked a little—"l ain't seen her 1 sence that spring morn in' when she _ : an' me had it out in the kitchen. 1 | watched her bunnit go round the turn. '; au'—an' 1 ain't heard a word of her 1 'cept what the neighbors let drop." said Herbert, with all the sfraightfor : ward confidence of youth. "I should I goto her and tell her It was just a ! misunderstanding." i j "That's jest what I can't do," re [ j turned his uncle, with extreme moodi -1 ness. "Every time 1 start, an' I've • started more'n onct, suthin pulls'me back. Ido b'lieve it's Miranda Sour." j "Miranda Sour?" "When she went away I named the.u two seediin's fer her—Miranda Sweet," I his voice faltered, "ter 'mitul me of how | purty she looked the day she an' me stood nn before the nrencher She was the pink cheekedest an' softest eyed ! gal in the hull village then. I"I named that tree Miranda Sour," Ihe old man went on doggedly, "ter i 'mind me how set tin' contrary your | aunt kin be when she's a inclination that a-way! That tree has got all of I Miranda's aggravatinest ways—the ] very way tliem leaves flirt at ye is jest ; perzactly like the fling Miranda could ! give them skirts of lier'n when she was j swishiu' past ye au 'wouldn't listen ter reason." . Herbert hit Miranda Sour a sharp | blow with a stick. "I wish a worm would gnaw you 1 wish a hurricane would blow you down." "No sleh I nek,"" said Jonas in font's which expressed a certain mournful pride in his forecasting. "No sicii luck. She'll keep on a-growin', an' Miranda an' mo will keep on gittin' funier an' furder apart." Ilerbprl looked round furtively, then sidled up to liis uncle. "Cut her down," he whis d. on ■ eye on Miranda Sour to see ii mi.' over heard. "Cut her down!" exclaimed Jonas an Kriiy. "Cut down an apple tree vr. cost me all that trouble! By gum. I'll do nawthin' of the kind! It's all yer i aunt's fault that them trees is there, an' there they kin stay fer me." Preoccupied himself, Jonas never de tected the purpose throbbing in Hu bert's whole being nor even observed the guilty glance that his nephew stole at him when the boy asked with as j sumed calm if lie might go tishing in | stead of accompanying Jonas to mill, i "Jest as ye like," said his uncle. | somewhat surprised. "Ain't no good fishin' round here, but I s'pose throw | in' the line in the water 'll satisfy ye." | Herbert waited until his uncle had I been gone a full half hour. 'J'hen lie j flew around to the wood pile and seiz ed the ax, his heart throbbing to suffo cation. lie hurried back to the front yard, glancing right and left. There was no one in sight. He looked at Miranda Sour, the representative- of "the ungodly." Yes, It was no fancy— her leaves rustled an insolent chal lenge. He sprang to her side and sunk his ax deeply in her new smooth bark. After that the blows fell fast aud furiously. In less than fifteen min utes she lay quivering and sighing at the foot of Miranda Sweet. With desperate strength be dragged the fallen one around to the backyard, sometimes in cold terror over Ills deed, sometimes with the same exultation that Achilles felt in driving around the walls of Troy. The funeral pyre of Miranda Sour was no easy work, for the day was hot and the limbs full of sail, but at last nothing was left of her save a few blackened pieces not to be distinguished as parts of an apple I tree. Then a tired but determined boy put oid Dobbin in the ancient bug gy and drove up the road at a rate that threatened an immediate smashup. It was 6 o'clock when Jonas return ed. He was dusty, tired and hungry Then as be opened the gate he rubbed | liis eyes—it could only be a vision! j But certainly the vision had warm - j arms. They clasped him around the | neck, and a face still good to look on I i was upturned to his own. and the old. ] beloved voice cried out: • ] "Kiss me. Jonas—right here, right - | now!" j "Miranda!" he gasped, and then j brokenly, "Thank God, oh, thank ' j Uod!" j "Yes, thank him," faltered Miranda, tears falling now. "An' his instru ' ) ment was that blessed boy! Oh. Jonas. ' j he told me how you missed me an' I how you kept that beautiful apple ' j tree iu front of the door to remember ' me by!" Hot shame and fear flooded Jonas, lie glanced at the house and felt like ' ' rubbing liis eyes again, for of Miranda I Sour not even a stump was left, while ' | in sweet and placid humility, comfort I ed with many tipples and tremulous i with hints of years of happiness. Mi j randa Sweet shaded the doorway lov ingly. MISPLACED CONFIDENCE. , The Victim Said Nothing, but Did • Heap of Thinking. j At a railway station the other day i i "a gentleman from the country" yield < »-d to the pressing solicitation of a per i »istent newsboy and bought a penny weekly paper. | Hut here was a ditllculty—a shilling, i | no change and the engine of the train i giving unmistakable evidence of a | speedy departure. 1 ' The bargain was about to be can , j reied when the boy volunteered to get t the shilling changed into pence. • : "But," said the gent, "perhaps you will not return with the 11 pence." The boy's face wore an injured look. "If you are afraid to trust me, sir," said lie. and there was the least trace of emotion in his voice, "you can have the other eleven copies as security." Something suspiciously like moisture i came into the old man's eyes as he glanced into the bright, open counte nance of the boy. and he felt heartily ashamed of himself as lie mechanically held out his hand for the remaining eleven copies. He watched the little fellow as he trotted down the platform till he sailed round a corner and was lost to sight. Fifteen seconds later the engine gave a final shriek, and the train slowly glided out of the station. The man glanced round at his fellow passengers and handed a copy of the paper to each one from his pile. He said nothing, but lie seemed te be tliinking.*-I.ondon Tit-Bits. NATURE AS A CHEMIST. Feats Which the Highest Exactitude of Science Cannot Rival. The bursting leaves of springtime illustrate nature as a chemist who performs feats which the highest ex actitude of science cannot hope to ri val. In a leaf the living matter is his chemist, and the cell is his laboratory I By daylight the leaf chemist is ai>- I sorbing the carbonic acid gas and Is decomposing this gas into Its com ponent elements—carbon and oxygen. The carbon it Is retaining as part of the plant's food to enter into corobina ! tion with water, and the oxygen it I sets Tree into the atmosphere. By I night this process ceases, for light is an essential feature in the operation. Out of the carbon and the water the j leaf chemist will elaborate the sugars ' and starches which tlie plant world j affords. As sugar the products will i pass from the leaf to he stored up, a« | in the case of the potato, for example. , so as to afford a storehouse of food whereon the plant may draw for Its I sustenance and for the development of i its leaves and flowers when occasion j comes. All the vegetable essences and I acids, the scents and gums, the juices | which yield India rubber, the flavoring of fruits and even the color of the | flowers are similarly the products of a | constructive chemistry which beats : man's best efforts to imitate. Man fol , lows nature, but at a distance.—Chi ! cago Tribune AMERICAN POLO CUP An International Trophy and the Strife For It. OF UNITED STATES ORIGIN. Ranks Next to the Emblem of Yacht ing Supremacy—Only Visit to Its , Home Since Its First Appearance. i* 1 Efforts to Lift It. As an international trophy the Amer j lean polo cup, which was recently won by an American team at Huriinghnui, i I England, ranks second only to the | America's cup. the yachting trophy for j which English sportsmen have spent i millions of dollars in a vain effort to I recover. America now has both. | This polo cup is of American origin, I | and this will lie i i» ly visit to its j home since its first appearance as an . | emblem of match play. I I In ISSt! an Knglish team was invited to play a match in the United States, and Hurlingham sent four men. To mark the occasion the Westchester 112 Country club offered the cup, valued j at SI,OOO. The Englishmen came aud t j gave an exhibition of hard riding, ex r j pert horsemanship and accuracy of I stroke the like of which was never ! seen iu the United States before. As a j consequence they took the cup back I with them, j | That match was played at Newport. I Among the spectators were threo i lads in their early teens—Harry Payne i Whitney and the two Waterburys, I Lawrence and Montgomery. Twmty | three years passed and in that time those boys luid learned the game so ! well that with the help of Devcreux 1 j Milburn of Buffalo they went to I.on j don and beat the British at their own ■ game. ' But these are not the only Aniei<- Icans who have had the time a:nj money to spend in an effort to get the cup back. Time and money are mentioned as. the chief essentials, because there are thousands in the United States who | have the horsemanship and the in clination. but lack the dollars one must have to play an international polo match. I In 19011 an American team went to England lo get the cup, but they were II so outclassed both iu men and ponies '' that they were easily beaten. " Two years later, 1902. four of the best players from the several clubs of the United States tried it again. They were the two Waterburys, who played in the recent match at Hurlingham; 11 John M. t'owden of Meadowbrooic and It. 1,. Agassiz of Boston. The men were good, but the ponies were not '• up to the standard of speed. They | won a single game and came back | without the cup. j Then Harry Payne Whitney began 0 | his campaign which ended in the pres r ent victory. He recognized that the sine qua lion of polo is the speed of the horse. 1 liven horses as good as '' England's. American men could win. !l j The very best ponies Hint could be •' I bred or purchased in the United States ' ! were got. | Then he sent a challenge, which was ' | gleefully aef-epted. • Mounted as well or even better than I the British, tin l American player* I swept the board. In their practice games at Uanelagh , j and Iloehampton they showed their . I form and scored almost as they v ed. And when the time came to tai'.t- I. ! the real match they did so by a score . j of 9 goals to 5 in the first game W<i y I S to - in the second.—New York Barrie and Kipling. | _. ;i ! Mr. Barrie was one day at Waterloo " i station In a hurry to catch a train. He j was hastening from the bookstall '* laden with papers, "a good many sit r penny ones unong them." he dolefully relates, when, in rushing around a 11 corner, lie fell into the arms of itud yard Klplt'g. equally Inn tearing ' hurry. They turned mi each other with scowl'ng faces, then smiled in e recognition and asked each other e whither lie went. Then Kipling, ex claiming "l.iicky beggar, you've got e papers!'" seized the bundle from Bar e j rle. tlung him some money and made ■- j off. "But yon did not stoop to pick v up his dirty, halfpence, did you?" que y rled one of Air. Barrio's bearers araus- S edly. "DJd"'t 1, though?" returned Barrie, and added ruefully, "But ho e hadn't filing me half enough."-St. d James' Oa/ette. p ( Improved the Opportunity. The Empress Eugenie tiad long en k treated Nv;-ol«on 111. t > confer upon Ilosa Botiii'-ur the ••res-; of the I.eglon of Honor, lie had refused because he ? did not wis!- to found a precedent for bestowing it upon a woman. Being called across the border into Spain, Napoleon made Kugenle regent In his absence, and she, with woman wit. took advantage of her authority to coty e fer the honor upon the great artist. I Napoleon laughed on hearing his wife's e confession, but the act stood. ; HEfflrlf! A noliable TIN SHOP * ! Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne ind Conorai Job Work. ' Stoves, Hoatara, . Furnaces, eto. !; PRICKS THE LOWEST! HUMTHE BEST' JOHN IIIXSO.S so. u» a front srr.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers