JAMES, Tilt UNRULY, A St. Patrick's Day Episode Wliicii Developed a "Cupid." By CLARISSA MACKIE. (Copyright. 1910. by American Press Asso ciation.! "James Mullin. you may remain after school." said Miss I'egnn, pointing a long ruler at t!ie tree!;led faced boy. Jimmy smiled scornfully and threw another paper wad at the back of Ids bitterest foe and settled down in his seat. "Get your hat and coat, James. 1 am going to take you to your father. Perhaps you will explain to him why you cannot obey me." When Anna Degan reached Sir. Mul lin's office she confronted a tall, hand some man with black eyes much like Jimmy's own. who looked down upon the two visitors with a friendly smile. "Sit down," lie said, bringing for ward a chair. "I am James' teacher—Miss Degan," ■she began primly. "James is so un ruly. Mr. Slullin, that I have brought him with me today to say that unless your influence can be brought to bear upon him or that you can assure me •of his future good behavior I very much fear that Mr. Broadtnan will expel him." Sir. Mullin'a lino r-ves widened with unconcealed surprise. "Well, really," he said after a little pause, "it's hard ly my place, you see, to be responsible tor Jimmy's behavior." Anna arose with sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed with Indignation. "Oh, do not say that. Sir. Slullin! How can you, a father, repudiate any responsi bility for your son's conduct? Sir. Mullin seemed to find unusual interest In the lovely face framed In its mist of dusky hair He seemed re luctant to terminate tim interview by any definite answer. "Then you refuse to interfere, Mr. Mullin?" Miss Degan's voice was haughty now, and her red lip curled with contempt. "As a father"— she paused suggestively. Mr. Mullin seemed to awaken to new Jife. "As a father," he said vaguely— HE UAD ANOTHER MAN WITH lIIM THIS 1 TIME. "as a father" — lie stopped abruptly and shot a fierce glance at Jimmy edg ing toward the outer door. Then he went on with a return of the friendly smile with which he had greeted her: "1 believe you will have no further trouble with Jimmy, Miss Degan. I will take him in hand, tie shall not cause you any more trouble. 1 am sorry lie lias distressed you. it must be rather a task to keep these young imps in order." From his tail height he looked down on her in such genial good nature that Anna Degae found herself liking Al-I derman Mullin very much indeed. I "Thank you so much, Mr. Slullin," she i said gratefully. "1 was afraid to come to you at first because"— She paused in embarrassment and turned to the door. Sir. Slullin's eyes twinkled. "Alder man Slullin's bark is worse than his bite," he said dryly as he opened the outer door and accompanied her to the elevator. At the farther end of the corridor James, tlie unruly, was engaged in a silent, furious wrestling match with the office boy. At Sir. Mullln's sharp whis tle they disentangled themselves and approached. It was then that Mr. Slullin gripped one of Jimmy's generous ears and so led him,walking stiffly, into the inner office and closed tile door. Iu the long ride uptown Anna Degan tried to forget tho interview with Al derman Slullin. It bad turned out much better than she had expected, and yet there had seemed an instant when he was about to refuse to take any part In the discipline of his own and only son. She had been surprised to find t'ie father of James such a young ai 1 amiable looking man. She had liea. 1 such stories of his fiery, dominant nature she had hesitated to bring a complaint before him. She had feared for the boy—Jimmy had always spoken in tones of almost ter ror of his father—and yet— She gave up the problem and tried to think of the pleasure that awaited her that evening. It was the 17th of March—St. Patrick's day—and she was going to the big ball of the Loyal Em erald Knights. Mr. Mullin had worn a sprig of shamrock in the lapel of his well fitting coat. Anna blushed redly and remembered with a certain fierce exultation the day that Jimmy's moth er, "Mrs. Alderman Slullin," had visit ed the school. The •recollection of her rubicund face and good natured and voluble flow of conversation quite drove away the picture of Jimmy's good look ing father. After that she thought of nothing snve the ball. The orchestra was playing "The Kerry Dance" when Anna entered the ballroom witli her sister and brother in-law, and her littla foot beat time to the swinging measure with antici pated delight. Iler gown was a triumph of tender 1 'e for the mother country and affec- tlon Hiul loyalty to the new republic that had opened Its arms to her peo pie. Anna hart planned It weeks he fore, nnrt her skillful tinkers hart made It—green silk gauze embroidered with I little gulden harps, folds of white eliir | fon Inside the low cut bodice, and in side the chiffon against her suowy neck three folds of chiffon—rert, white, ! and blue. I The entrancing music of old Irish J melodies, the polished Moor crowded | with brilliant gowns and the handsome J uniforms of the Emerald Knights, the i eager spectators in the gallery over heart, nil formed a beautiful picture that Anna Degan never forgot. She danced again ami again with old friends and new ones whom her broth er-in-law, Larry Kane, brought up to | her. As she sat resting, her face I aglow with exercise and pleasure. ! Larry approached with a large red j faced man. black of brow and with I scowling black eyes. His smile was ! pleasant, however, and seemed to in dicate that tin? scowl was but a bad ; habit. ! Anua's heart seemed to stand still when Larry spoke, "Anna, let me in | troduce Sir. Mullin—Sir. Alderman Mullin of the Seventh ward." Then Larry disappeared, and Anna found herself permitting Mr. Mullin to scrawl his name against the next vacant space on her dance card, which proved to be the one she was sitting out. and so presently she was whirling about in tin- stiff embrace of Mr. Al derman Mullin, who growled a few sentences above her head, stepped on her pretty green shod toes without apologizing ami finally left her breath lessly sitting on a divan in a corner far distant from her little group of friends. She was glad of the respite to think over the startling situation. If this gentleman was Alderman Mullin, the father of James, the unruly, who. then, was the gcnileman who had imper sonated the alderman and made him self responsible for the behavior of James? Across the room a couple revolved stiffiy In the giratious of a waltz: Anna recognized the burly form of the now familiar Mr. Mullin and also that of the lady she had known as Jimmy's mother. As for the other man—her face grew hot with indignation, and she looked lovelier than ever when Larry found her out. lie had another man with him tills time. "Sir. Alderman Mullin's cousin, sis— another Slullin and a gentle knight a good friend of my own! George, my sister. Miss Degan!" Larry left the two facing each other in the quiet corner, the man, resplen dent in green and white satin and gold, looking tenderly down on the young girl in green and gold. Sliss Degan looked him squarely in the face and with contemptuous shrug turned away, but he caught her little gloved hand in his own with a swift gesture. "Wait, please," lie said gravely, and Miss Degan waited for his explanation. It came after a little while, haltingly, as from a mau who is not accustomed to explain his actions: "When a little lad is afraid of his father, Sliss Degan, he naturally turns to some man whom he knows Is fond of him and will stand by him in trou ble. Jimmy confessed to me tills after noon that he was afraid to take you to his father—his father would thrash him, and that is all the good it would do! So the lad brought you to me and trusted me to understand tlie situation and to stand by him. I didn't get on to his little game till after you went, though I understood from his looks he was in trouble, so I let it go, hoping to see you again and explain matters to you. I had a talk with Jimmy, and lie's going to be good. In fact. I've told b.;n I shall call at the school every W 'elc and find out what his deport ment is. I hope you do not mind. Miss I '• gan." Anna listened to the long speech v ith downcast eyes and trembling lips. S!:e was glad that she had spared Jim my a whipping from his stern father and that this kind hearted cousin had masqueraded before her as Jimmy's parent. lie had a good face, and, after ail, Jimmy would Improve and room No. 12 might be a credit to the grade after all! She smiled gratefully up at Mr. George Slullin and dashed a tear from the corner of her eye. "1 am very glad you did not disillusion me. I was so tired and cross just then I might have taken Jimmy down to his father's of fice, wherever it Is." "He'll be a good boy after this," promised Jimmy's big cousin as they glided Into a waltz. Sweetly, alluring ly. eauie the strains of "Kathleen Xlit vourneen," and they did not speak again until it was over. After a little while Slullin asked softly: "And I may come to the school once a week and look at Jimmy's report, Miss Degan?" Anna's fingers touched the little golden harps on her pretty fan. and they seemed to give forth strange, sweet music—happy music that fell in cadence with his deep, melodious voice: "Yes, come," she said demurely. "I think it is a very good idea." Jimmy Slullin never could under stand why, after that. Ills cousin, George Slullin. always called him "Cu pid." The Vhita Shark. The shark of sharks, the real "man eater" and tile one most dreaded, is the white shark. This variety reaches a length of thirty live feet and a weight of 2.000 pounds. Its head Is long and fiat, and the snout far over hangs the mouth. Its six rows of teeth are sharp as lancets and notched like saws. Its mouth Is very large, so that one has been known to cut a man's body completely in two at a single snap of its cruel Jaws and another to swallow one at a gulp. Near Calcutta one of these sharks was seen to swal low a bullock's head, horns and all. From the stomach of another a bull's hide was taken entire, and the sailor who made the discovery insisted that the bull had been swallowed whole and all except the hide had been di gested. Trom the stomach of another w-as taken a lady's workbox filled with the usual contents, scissors and all. It is commonly the white shark which follows the vc sel at sea day after day and week after week. Let no man presume to give advice to others who lias not first given good counsel to himself. Seneca. THE KEY OF DEATH, A Story of Italian Methods In Mediaeval Times. Dy F. A. MITCHEL. [Copyright, 1910, by American Tress Asso- ! elation.] When Venice was mistress of the | maritime world she attracted many young men desirous of profiting by her commercial advantages. Among them was one Giuseppe I'essero, who went there from Home. Pessero was of i good family and had been Intimate with the Borgias, the Farnese and other great families at a time when the Italians were very skillful In get ting rid of those who stood In their way by menus of poison. One afternoon, while being pulled In j a gondola from St. Slark's down to- | ward the liialto, Pessero passed a barge in which sat a vision of loveliness. I "Giovanni!" exclaimed Pessero when ' the two boats had passed. "Who is that lady?" "That, slgnor," replied tlie gondolier, "is Signorina Francesea del Prombo." "Turn, Giovanni—turn at once and follow." • The gondola was swung around and pulled to a flight of steps leading to j the square of St. Slark's. The lady | had embarked and entered the square j when Pessero's gondola drew up to | the steps. In a few minutes ho saw tile Signorina Francesea join a party of gentlemen and ladies who were sit- \ ting idly, some reading, some playing on lutes, others chatting. Pessero, see- j ing one among them he knew, spoke to him and was introduced to the group. | Bui it was Francesea that he want- ! ed. Seizing the earliest opportunity, he devoted himself to her, though without encouragement. Francesea was betrothed to Luigi Sansovino, one of her own rank and high in favor | with the doge. Disregarding this, Pes- ! sero persisted in his attentions and I after an acquaintance of a few weeks j made bold to ask for Signorina del Prombo's band. It Is needless to say | that his suit was rejected. That was a far different age from j this. While the people had attained a i certain refinement, they seemed still I to retain the traits of their barba- j rian ancestors. It was not an uncom- j mon thing for a man rejected by a woman to revenge himself upon her. I □OltllOlt STRICKEN', HIS BRIDE BEST OYBR HIM. Pessero resolved that no one except himself should possess Francesea. 1 But lie bided his time. He beard of j the preparations making for her wed- j ding with Sansovino, how the looms were spinning tine fabrics for her wedding gown and how the most deli- ! cate lace was being woven for her adornment. He showed no sign of ills- j satisfaction. He was engaged in< -t of the day and at times far into the night I in a little workshop that lie had fitted 1 up in his home. When the day for the wedding came ; Pessero stood at the entrance to St. 1 Mark's church, where the ceremony ' was to take place, among a crowd of | people eager to see the beautiful Fran- j cesea del I'rombo attired for the bri- j dal. The groom as he passed in saw j the face of the man who had aspired to his place wearing the look of a ! fiend. Pessero was on the inner edge of the crowd, and the two men touch- j ed as the procession passed. Sanso- j vino looked away and in another mo ment felt a sharp pain In his breast. Before he had entered the body of the j church he fainted. Horror stricken, ! his bride bent over him, endeavoring j to recall liini to consciousness—all In j vain. In a few minutes he was dead. | Francesca's quick eye had detected i the malevolent face of Pessero in the crowd, and she was seized with an in- j definable Oicad. From the moment , her lover had sunk down on the mar- ' ble pavement she divined that lie had ' been stricken by tlie hand of her re- [ Jected suitor, j-'lie vas carried to the canal, placed in her barge and rowed j to the family palace. As soon as slio j came out of the frantic condition into | which she hart been thrown by the 1 tragedy she cried: "He was killed by Pessero!" "Pessero!" exclaimed her father and mother In a breath. "He was at the church. He rubbed against Luigi as wo passed. The fiend killed him!" Slgnor del I'rombo consulted with his most intimate friends, and It was con sidered possible for Pessero to have stabbed his victim by means of a blade so thin that no blood would flow. A surgeon was directed to carefully ex amine the body, with a view to dis covering if the mark of any instru ment of death had been left upon it. The examination was made and the report awaited with Intense eagerness. "Well," said Slgnor del Prombo when the surgeon came to report. "He was assassinated." "How? Stabbed?" "Not exactly. A small steel needle was injected into the flesh." "How? By whom?" "That I cannot tell." "Was death caused by this Instru ment?" "There may have been poison on It." j "Could you detect poison?" "There were no traces of anything ] on fhe needle." The I)ei i'rombo family were sure J that the needle hail iu some tuysierl j ous manner been injected by Pessero Into the breast of the murdered man. | But who was to give evidence of the • fact? Nor were the courts of that time overburdened with justice. More than that, the detective methods of the present day were then unheard of. So there was nothing to do but suffer and l permit the murderer togo his way. Franccsea, feeling that her life had been blighted, decided togo into a convent. The palace of St. Mark's and Its gay company knew her no more. She disappeared entirely from the world. One day not long after her retire ment Pessero succeeded under the guise of a mendicant In gaining access to licr. Before she was aware of it she was in an apartment alone with the murderer of her lover. Throwing off Ids disguise, he knelt at her feet | and implored her to take pity on one I who loved licr better than life. lie was greeted with a look of hor j ror, of detestation and with but one I word: "Murderer!" lie attempted to plead, but Frances ! ca raised a cry for help, and In a mo ment the room was filled with nuns. Pessero, foiled, slunk away. But as he departed he gave Fraucesca a look that froze her soul. It was love changed to hate, ami with it was mingled triumph. He had no sooner gone than Fran j ce ea quickly placed her hand on her ! breast. The expression ou her face told those about her that something | serious had happened. Then she be i gan to tear open her bodice, and there \ on her bosom was a drop of blood. In a word she told them that she had been stabbed by the man who had | killed her lover. A surgeon who attended the nuns when they were ill happened to be In the convent at the time. lie was hur ried to Francesca. In as few words as possible he was told that something was doubtless underneath the tiny wound, and he probed for It. In a few | moments he extracted a steel needle. By this time Francesca was losing consciousness from the effects of the ! wound, and the surgeon, believing that ' the needle had been poisoned before | being Injected, used such antidotes as ! he was acquainted with. For several | hours Francesca's life hung In the | balance; then slowly she began to j revive and in a few days was restored. In the present ease Pessero was known to have been with his Intended j victim at. the time she was stricken, and this, taken with tho circumstances ; of Sanso vino's death, was strong evl | dence against him. Francesca's fnther had concealed the cause of the death ; of Sanso vino and the suspicion that | rested on Pessero. Desirous of getting 1 other evidence, he directed that the i murderer should be kept in Ignorance ; of what was known of his methods. | Pessero, who had stricken Francesca ; in a moment of passion and kuew from | her greeting that the circumstances | connected with tho two tragedies 1 would be sutllclent to convict him, j fled. Signor del Prouibo no sooner lenrn j ed that his daughter was out of dan ' ger than he sought Pessero. Not find- I lug him and learning that he had been j seen pulling in a boat for the luuln | land, Del Prombo followed, caught the ' murderer and, single handed, brought [ him back to Venice. Pessero was | thrown Into prison and his homo | searched. There in his workshop were j found a number of parts which to i gether made up the implement used in j his crimes. It was a large key, in appearance j very simple, but really very complex. ; The handle, being turned, exposed a spring which, when pressed, sent from ' the other end <»f the key a poisoned 1 needle of surh fineness that it entered j the flesh and burled itself there, leav ing no external trace. There is a bridge In Venice called the "Bridge of Sighs." It spans a nar ! row canal lending from a prison to the palace of the doges, where court ; was held, it is generally supposed j that In mediaeval times political pris oners passed oyer it fur trial. It was, I however, a passage for common male j factors. Visitors in Venice may now I go from tli - palace over the bridge to ' the prison aul down Into its dungeons. | In one of these dungeons Pessero was I confined, lie passed over the "Bridge ! of Sighs" to Ids trial and, after Ills j conviction, passed back over the same | bridge to await his execution. It Is said that Francesca, whose life | he had turned from one of happiness j to a cloister existence and who had, I under the Influence of tho sisters, been ■ turned to piety,_v.ished to petition the j court to spare I'essero's life, but \':is | dissuaded from doing so by the mother ' superior on the ground that the church j aid not interfere with justice. Pessero | was hanged. Francesca never left the convent in which she had sought a retreat when the world paled before her. After the I death of her father she Inherited a for- I tune, which she gave to tho poor. 1 The waters of the Grand canal wash ! the steps leading to the palace of her j family, la" It Is now occupied for | commercial purposes. The glory of Venice and her former home have van ! lshed. Cuba's New Stamps. ' Stamp collectors will probably bo j interested in the new Issue of Cuban ! postage and revenue stamps which I have been printed In New York city. I The Cuban government has discarded j the old design that has been used for I several years and has substituted the portraits of tho men who distinguished | themselves in the military service of J the country. The stamps range In de nomination from 1 cent to sl. Eskimos For South Pole Dash. Eskimo drivers, with their dog teams, are 'o accompany the Ameri can south polar expedition, according to Professor Donald B. McMillan, who was ono of Commander Peary's chief assistants In the latter's successful north pole search. In a lecture at Blddeford, Me., Professor McMillan said that during the coming summer ho and Captain Bobert Bartlett will goto Etah to secure Eskimos and degs for the south pole dash. Partridges For Foekefeller Estate. The Hamburg-American liner Penn | sylvanla, which reached New York re cently, brought a consignment of 1,880 ! partridges for John D. Rockefeller's ! Pocantico Hills estate, 1,000 canaries, ' CO squirrels and 1,000 white mice. I £• » - • - WV%-V*%WW%J» • Work of || I The Black I l • hussars ! 'unHMMWMMMMWWtMUHW #WIIE calling of I the I'ennsyt f M vaula state mm w. con st a bulary to 0. Philadei phi a re taßL cently to help V maintain order in the big trol ley strike there has di -o jr e c t e d conslder i able attention to , * this organization CAPTAIN GItOOMR r ' om a " ° r . er country, and much Is being written about it. "The "black hussars," as this for midable body ot lighting men is called, is under command ot Captain John ersome that it makes him look as much like a monk as a sol dier, except for the fact that there Is room below the bottom of it to see the spur and the lower spiral of the strap that binds the riding legging. But there is a special reason for that, as there is for every detail in the equip ment of the state police. The troopers come from sections,of the state where ,112 \-p :• . "f-y " !,i fit : ' 111 jj I jljj ISLACE UI'SSAItS tif.AD\ POll ACTION. the snow Its still several feel deep. They ride many miles in zero weather in the course ot their patrol work, and when a troo|ter is in nis saddle the skirts ot th.it long coal spread out as a protection fi>i ttis horses hanks and his uwii knees Terms ti't l.stmeut In the state consial>ular\ ate fot two years unless sooner discharged for cause, and with the long waiting list at headquarters tlie troopers have to lead rather ex emplary lives to hold tiieir positious. When Captain Grootne began the ex amination of men to enlist a force of 232 lie had more than 1,000 applica tions. It is not to lie wondered that this duty Is attracting the best non commissioned officers from the regu lar army. The work is more exciting, the men have a chance for more ini tiative, and they are paid quite hand somely. A private of constabulary receives $720 a year, his horse, uni form and a house to live In. A ser geant receives SI,OOO a year, a lieu tenant $1,200 aud captains $1,500. No married men are accepted. A trooper must be absolutely fearless. If he shows the white feather once his use fulness Is ended aud the force has no place for him. The motto of the or ganization is, "Oet your man. no mat ter what the cost." Exchang* of Courtesies. One of the keenest of journalists and wits, Morltz Gottlieb Saphlr, had the better of the Irate stranger against whom he ran by accident at the corner of a street In Munich. "Beast!" cried the offended person without waiting for an apology. "Thank you," said the Journalist, "and mine Is Sapb'r" American to Judge Canadian Music. Earl Grey, governor general of Can ada, has appointed Howard Brockway. the composer, a native of Brooklyn, ns judge for the Earl Grey musical and dramatic competitions which are to be open to all Canada aud to last a week. WHOM GDD HATH JOINED. The Course of Events After They Had Parted. By VIRGINIA COOMBS HILL. [Copyright, 1010, by American Press Asso ciation.] Sheldon McAllister left the court room a free man—free nfter five years of married life. Yet somehow ho didn't feel quite proud of his success. It had been easier than he expected, for Sadie had not entered a cross bill, as he had feared she would. In fact, she had not even appeared In court at all. lie had really dreaded It, feeling so uncertain about the result, for he knew very well that she had had the best of reasons for deserting him after she luid discovered that "little affair" of his. How well he remem bered it all—how she had taken Lad die and gone back to her father's and how strangely lonesome the house had seemed till he had concluded to goon the road for that New York house. lie thought he should feel bet ter nfter that, but somehow ho didn't, although he had written to her, in closing a deed of their cozy little home. But now, he assured himself, every thing would be all right, fritz had "MERCIPUIi HEAVEN, IT IS SADIKi" said so, too, and Fritz ought to know (his wife had resumed her maiden name and gone on the stage). Of course Sadie was not that kind of woman at all. but he had had a gen erous alimony settled on her. Still, "desertion"—lt did sound pretty bad, and ho hadn't another thing against the girl. lie began to think of what his mother had always said—that he was so impulsive and slow to forgive. lie paused in front of an art store to take In the window exhibit. lie had always been fond of a really good picture, and Sadie—she had quite a talent along such lines and before their marriage had done some really creditable little things in oil. lie had been proud of her and thought her quite a genius. But she hud really disappointed him there, for after Lad die was born she painted only at rare Intervals. lie had often com plained about it, but she always looked hurt and said she no longer had the time 112« r it. Tile baby, to be sure, had beeu mighty cross day and night till Sadie was almost ill herself, and when it ilkl forget itself and goto Sleep she had had to rush about and catch up wilh her household duties. But when he came home early one day and ca'ight her putting away her easel and brushes to turn her little stu dio into a nursery he had beeu severe, justly so, too, he thought. And she had cried and cried, but was just as stubborn as she couid be about it. "What! liown i:i the mouth a bit. old man?" came Fritz's voice over bis shoulder, and he felt himself suddenly whirled about and brought face to face with his own fair bigness in a mirror belonging to the uext window display. "There, look at that!" continued Fritz. "What has that handsome fel low to complain of anyway? Why, I'm happy even with this!" blandly survey ing his own reflection, which was so ugly as to be almost comical. "Why, do you know, Mac," he con tinued confidentially as they strolled up the avenue, "my wife's company is playing in town this week, and 1 went the first night for the express purpose of testing that part of my anatomy where my heart Is supposed to he lo cated. But, say, didn't I stand the test nil O. K.? And this morning, too, 1 met her driving in the park with oue of her adoring swains, no doubt. So, you see, old man, it's simply a matter of a short time only and a little manly grit. And to a handsome cuss like you a little matter such as a divorced wife in the background ought to be no handicap whatever." "Handsome! Oh," said McAllister disgustedly, "good looks have beeu a curse to me. I only hope that that kid of mine will grow tip ns homely as a"— "Nonsense! Hoar the boy talk!" put In Fritz; then, pausing In front of his hotel, "Ju?t come into the grill room here and have a nice little dinner on me, witli some extras to top oiT on. and you'll feel like a new man." Five years later Sheldon McAllister, on his semiannual trip west, was de tained In Chicago for a few days. On the night before his departure he found hlncself standing in the middle of his room studying the handwriting on a faintly perfumed note he held. In the past five years he had avoid ed all women with a stubbornness which had won for him the everlast ing contempt of his former friend Fritz, and when that gay Lothario had gradually let their friendship cool he had laughed quietly to himself with the real relief of it. But this dainty little note somehow struck him quite Irresistibly as he read: Mr. S. P. McAllister: Dear Sir—You will, I fear, consider tt the height of presumption for a stranger to write ami ask a favor of you, hut 1 ' trust you will judge leniently or the eo. centrlcltlcs of a white haired woman wha Is wedded to her art. This Is the favor.! Will you call at my studio some after- ■ noon this week and grant me a half hour pose? X am a magazine Illustrator, and your type suits the subject matter better than any other 1 have yet discovered. Very truly, VERA SHELDON, Studio No. 6, 44 Blank street. It is needless perhaps to say that \ McAllister accepted his singular in vitation, staying over in order to cajl the next afternoon. He had always, beeu u haunter of studios and had many a friend among the artists. This, to be sure, was an exceptional' case, being a woman, but then sh» | was "only a little, white headed old lady," he remarked complacently to himself, "old enough probably to b» my mother." So be sauntered on up Blank street, looking for her number. When ba found It he eutered. The door he looked for stood open, and lie paused for half a breath before knocking. Through the ropo hangings of a small anteroom the large , Inner studio looked like a picture in a frame—draperies and rugs from the ori ent, luxurious pillowed divan and win dow seat, a cozy 5 o'clock tea table, statuettes and graceful bric-a-brac and pictures, pictures everywhere. Sear the great north bay window she stood at her easel, her back toward the door. Simply gowned In black, her figure ; looked young in spile of its regii i crown of lovely white hair, which the western sun touched softly with a ■ peculiar halo-like radiance. A singu lar little pain clutched at his heart. ' She turned, and "Merciful heaven, it is Sadie!" ho cried, springing toward j her. I She met liim with hands out | stretched, placing them in his; then ha J would have caught her up to him im pulsively had not an imdefmabla something forbade him. "Sadie! My wife, my wife!" he cried, crushing her hands between his, "No, not that, Sheldon, any more, | but—l wanted to see you once more forgive the subterfuge—and—l had to keep oue of your names; Vera is mj middle name. It Is the name, Mrs. Vera Sheldon, that I have gone bj ever since I came here three years ago to try to forget—that which Is unfor gettable." He stood there, looking at her in a> bewildered way. What had hap pened? In one lightning flash he saw it all. What a fool he had been—what a fool! There was no other woman like her, and he loved her—yes, he loved her; ho knew now that he had loved her through It all. And he hud been so impulsive, so blind, so unrelenting. He poured it all out to her—passionate ly, penitently, yearningly—all the pent up emotion of those live long, long years. And she—she listened, very gravely for a time; then she reached up and laid her hands against hla broad shoulders and smiled. He caught her to his heart with a long, low cry; "Oh. oil. home presently. lie is quite a l>!g I boy now, dear." And she smiled uj> at liim again. How very dark her eyes looked beneath her wonderful hair, far more beautiful, hair aud eyes both, than over before, though at what I grievous cost he shuddered to think. Somehow as he looked at her he waa | reminded of great purple-black pansiea caught under an untimely snowdrift. ! He touched the fluffy whiteness rever j ently, almost fearfully, as if it might I chill his Augers. He could not speak i some way, but Ills eyes did it for him. I "Yes," she said gravely, looking j down, "sorrow has made an old wo- I man of me. I am sorry"— "Hush, sweet! It is not for you to> apologize." After a llulo he espied over by an other wind w a eecoiul easel, quito small, upon v ?iu-!i utocd a very credit- I able sketch • i handsome Scotch col lie dog. * n, r.he scrutinized* it approviu: : "What b.ivo you here—the work of some pupil V" "Yes," she answered proudly; "that is the work of my 112 ivorite pupil- Laddie!" "Indeed!" he exclaimed, with en thusiasm. "Wh t—our little Laddie> Why, the dear little fellow couldn't have done anything that would hav» pleased me more." When Laddie came in from school an hour later he found mamma, with such a happy look In her dark eyes, pouring tea at the tiny table, and— yes, his pnpa standing by her with his baud on her glorious white hair and looking just ns if he did not know whether to cry or be happy or botU | at once. "The half hour's sitting" was. strange to say, forgotten, but Sheldon McAllister proved his "leniency to ward the eccentricities of a whito haired woman" by insisting on a flying visit to the county clerk's office, and when he came back ho brought a minister with him. flENflil A R.ellalble TIN SHOP r#r all kind of Tin Roofing* Spoutlnc nnd General Job Work. Stove*, Heaters, ft an coo, Fumaoes. oto- PRICES THB LOWEST! QIiiLITT TDK BEST? JOHN HIXSON NO. 1W E. FRONT fL