HER CHOICE.
When the Time Came Her Deci
sion Was Quickly Made.
By SARAH BRYCE VAUGHAN.
(Copyright, 1910, by American Press Asso
ciation.)
"Why it Is." said the ranchman,
"that some wlmmen can't make a
straight deal with a lover.
"We had n case out here onct where
a gal Icep' two fellers danglin' after
her till she pretty nigh set both on
'em crazy. At last she had to decide
all on a sudden, and It didn't take ber
a second to Bhow which one on 'em
bad her heart. Mebbe she didn't know
herself before that which did have
It.and mebbe she did know. Least
aways there wasn't no hesitation when
the time come to make a show down.
"She was a little Mexican gal. Her
father had belonged to a big family In
Spain, and sence most o' the big fami
lies there are down at the heel and
Herrara beln' the youngest o' twelve
children he weut to Mexico, married
and come up to this here territory to
raise sheep. He had a daughter, Pac
quita, born 011 his ranch. From the
time she was able to walk she was
out o' doors all the while, cilmbln'
fences and trees, and when she was
four was ridin' the horses to water.
"When Pacquita was sixteen she
was a terror to her father and mother.
She could shoot, ride, swing a lariat,
do anything a cowboy could do. I've
seen her toss hor handkerchief on the
ground, ride by it at full speed aud
with one spur hooked to her saddle
reach down and pick It up. At that
time she used to wear her hair flowin
out like a comet's tail—same as little
gals do—audit was topped by a som
brero. Her Jacket aud skirt were
Mexican, with lots o' gold braid. Her
eyes were black and her complexion
almost as dark as a quadroon's. Shi- j
got that from her mother, who had
Aztec blood In ber.
"There was a Mexican boy whose
father owned a ranch near the Her
rara property that was brought up
with Pacquita. He was just the same
age, and they were Just like brothers.
Leastaways It seemed to me that
Pacquita was more like a brother to
THE TWO MEN WEUB SINKING LOWER.
Jose Serrano than a sister. Hut I
reckon they was more like lovers from
the very first.
"They was always together till one
day a young Englishman come out
here to be a rancher. He was th»
sleekest looking feller I ever see. Ed
ward Allston was his name, and he
was a thoroughbred and no mistake. 1
didn't see him ridin' about with Pac
quita till some time after his comln'
here; then 1 used to see 'em together
often. It didn't seem to me that if the
Englishman wanted ber the little Mex
ican would stand a ghost of a cbanct
But. while she wns with the Hritlsber
a good deal, she didn't drop the Mexi
can. She appeared to be just as foud
of him as ever. But what kind of
fondness it was, now that Allston had
come along, 1 didn't know. It seeuied
to me that sooner or later the little
chap would find out that he was no
where and the Britisher had the right
o' way.
'JT_ used to meet ridin' fust
with one and then with the other of
these men. When she was with Jose
he looked sullen, and I reckoned she
war trying to make blm believe she
didn't caro nothln' at all about All
ston. When she was with Allston I
eckoned she was tryin' to bring blm
nder her spell. They was a tine con
rast, them two. she a dark Spanish
oeauty, he a fair haired, blue eyed
Britisher. It didn't appear to me that
he was more Interested in her than
if sbe'd beeu any other gal. It war the
way she slung them big black eyes
about that made me think she was try
ing to lasso liim.
"The reason I took all this interest in
the matter was that I was as fond o'
Pacquita ns if sbe'd been my own lit
tle gal. One day I overtook ber ridin'
along the road alone. After awhile
i said somethiu' against the English
man Just to see bow 6he'd take It. She
fired up, you bet. Then 1 told her 1
thought Jose Herrara was worth three
of Edward Allston. She looked kind
o' funny, but didn't say nothln'.
" 'Well, little gal,' I said when I left
her, 'better decide between 'em. It
would be cruel to keep 'em on the
anxious seat always.'
"'I don't know,' she said, 'that I
have the privilege of decldin' between
'em.'
"With that she cantered away, kind
of glum.
"I knew well enough that so far as
Jose Herrara was concerned she could
have him whenever she wanted him.
But 1 didn't know anything about her
havln' the Englishman.
"But as time wore on 1 saw Pacquita
• A llstoti more and more together,
-ratio seemed to be dropped
race. It wns perfectly nat-
Ural thai a ' tie lookln' man with swell
manners should supplant a boy who
didn't dhow up for much except that
he w«s n. very good kind of a feller
He'd been ulwiut the only person Pac
quita had ever como across for u lover,
and when -><>incibtn' belter turned up
It was natural she should gradually
let go her n<>ld on the first and get a
grip on the secoud.
"Hut the time come when It waa plain
enough thai the Englishman bad been
landed and was layln' on bis side
gaspin'. What I mean by that is that
the gal had woven a spell about blm
be couldn't resist, and he was dead
gone on her f-Yom that time she did
not seem so stuck on him as she wns
before. That's the way with all of us
when we once git a thing we don't care
so much about It as we thought we
did. That's what 1 thought was the
case with Pacquita. but them as knew
told me I was wrong. They said she
was In love with Allston and wns goin
to marry him.
"The race was comln' to a finish, wltli
big odds on Allston. Leastaways. It
would 'a' been ridiculous for Pacquita
to stick to a boy lover when she could
git a man and a tine man ut that. Hut
she didn't seem to want to decide.
"One day I'acqulta was out 011 Ikm
horse, got up. us usual, in her Mexican
toggery, a revolver at tier side ami 11
lariat at the pommel of her saddle
when she saw the two men who was
courtin' her rldin' toward each other
She wondered what they was goin' t«■
do. She didn't want 'em to tight--fact
is, all along she had been keepln" Ser
rano from pick in a quarrel with All
ston. Then she remembered that there
was a quicksand between 'em, an' she
began to worry lest one on 'em would
git Into it. She reckoned Jose Scrra 11
knew all about It. but she wasn't sure
Allston did. They was a rldin* kind >•
reckless, especially Serrano, and she
made up her mind there war goin" to
be a fracas. She war bound to stop
it, so she started for 'em.
"Well, before she reached 'em the
met. She saw that Serrauo was talk
in' mighty savage to Allston. while
Allston was a keepln' bis temper anu
pattln' his horse, which seemed restive
to keep him quiet, i'acqulta rode on
as fast as she could make ber beast
go. dreadln' every mluute to see the
two men come to blows. Then she no
ticed that there seemed to be some
thin' the matter with both their horses
Serrano went on lalkin' excitedly, but
Allston stopped payin' any attention
to him and was iashin' bis tiorse. Jhe
horse seemed to be ma kin' a great ef
fort to do somethiu'. but didn't do
nothln'. Then Serrano's horse" was
a-makin' the same efforts.
"I'acqulta turned pale, for she knew
that both her lovers had struck the
quicksand, and once In It there was
no cbanct for cither of 'em to get out
She made her horse do her best, usln
whip and spur, but she was ridin
across country, with no road, and the
goin' was bud. The two men were
slnkin' lower and lower and shoutin
like mad for help, i'acquita was tin*
only person to hear 'em, and there was
little prospect sbe'd reach eui before
they stiuk out o' sight. She was only
a gal anyway.
"When she rode up to >m their
horses' heads was the only part of el
tber critter above the sand and both
men bad sunk to the waist. Allston
beln' the heaviest, had sunk a Hint
lower than Serrano, i'acqulta wrung
her hoids for a moment, wild at not
beln' able to help 'em, each of 'em
lookln' at her pitifully. Then she re
membered her iariat. Quick as a flash
she unwound and poised it ready to
throw. Each man was up to his arm
pits. Even if she had time to save
one on 'em she wouldn't have time to
save the other.
"This is where the time come I was
tellln' you about at the beglnnin' o' this
yarn, where the gal bad to decide
which one of the two men she loved,
or. rather, the love for one o' 'em thai
was In her decided the matter for her
Swingiu' the loop around three or four
times, she let it go and it shot out
over the quicksand.
"Which o' them two fellers do you
suppose the loop fell on? Why, the lit: it-
Mexican. When It come to the pint
the child love that had growed like :i
young twig was stronger than the
new thing that bad come when I'ai
qulta was growed.
"The rope fell true and In a momci:
was around Jose's shoulders under hi*
arms. Pacquita bad the other end
fastened to the pommel of her sail
die, and, sturtiu' ber horse sentlj,
as not to break the rope, he pulled the
.Mexican out. Then she fell In a faint,
but Serrano didn't waste no time on
her. He threw the lasso to Allston.
who caught It in his hands Serrano
was tuggln' away, tryin' to pull the
Rrltlsher out. when a horseman up
peared and, coming up, lent a hand.
Together they hauled Allston 011 to
flrin ground.
"That was the end o' the rivalry be
tween these two men. Allston went
back to England and married the
daughter of a lord. Serrano married
Pacquita. All of which goes tn show
that if a gal is In doubt between two
lovers she kin find out which one she
>atits by bavin' a < uanct to save the
life of only one ot 'em.'
Not 0/ Exclusion.
Ile-I had a hard time getting a
good wife.
She—Ooodness! Have you been mar
ried several times'.-
"Oh. no. Hut I courted my present
one six years Philadelphia Ledger
Usually the Way.
Mamie—She Is trying to keep her
marriage a secret.
Maud- How do you know''
"She told me so."
To forgive a fault in another is more
sublime than to be faultless oucself. —
George Sand.
etter Dream On.
"Isn't that a perfect dream of a
hat?" she demanded of the man by
her side.
"I said," she repeated after some
seconds of silence, "isn't that a dream
of a bat?"
Still silence from the man. Then
she ventured.reproachfully:
"Why don't you say something?"
"My dear, you seemed to enjoy your
dream so that I was afraid of waking
you up." the man then replied.
HAND WITH I
MISSING THUMB
It Was Important Evidence, but
Came In Late.
By WILLARD BLAKEMAN.
[Copyright, 1910, by American Press Asso
ciation.]
William Burcb was graduated at the
ecientiilc school of the university
and became an assistant in an insti
tution for original scientific research.
Having a rich uncle, unmarried and
childless, who was Intending to make
him his heir, he had laid out a career
for himself by which ho might devote
his time to study and Investigation.
This uncle, a Mr. Trevor, was cashier
in 11 bank.
One morning young Burch received
a note from his uncle usking bim to
call that afternoon at 3 o'clock. Burch
called. Half an hour later he was
seen to leave his uncle's house very
red In the face and muttering to him
self. The only person living In the
house with the uncle was an old wo
man who took care of It. She beard
Mr. Trevor say during Burch's visit: 1
"That's the best I can do for you."
Burch replied nngrlly: "You have
placed me in a very trying position
Having ndvised me to follow a career
that pays nothing and promised to
back me up, you put me off with"—
Here the door was closed, and tin' 1
housekeeper heard 110 more.
Mr. Trevor always went out to dill
ner—usually at his club—nt C o'clock.
Mrs. Morton, bis housekeeper, noticed
that he did not ride out during the
afternoon of bis nephew's call, and at
7 o'clock be had not gone to dinner.
She went to his room, knocked and
received no reply. Entering, she saw
his dead body on the bed.
Kunning to the telephone, she called
up William Burch aud told him to
come at once—something had happened
to his uncle. Burch came and with
Mrs. Morton went to his uncle's room.
He did not speak for some time, be
lng evidently under strong emotion
Then he said:
"Mrs. Morton, who has been with
my uncle this afternoon besides my
self?"
"I have seen uo one come or go."
On the table stood a decanter of
whisky, a glass and a soda bottle in a
silver holder. The dead man had been
EXAMINED THE CONTENTS CUITIOALLY.
drinking some whisky and soda and j
had left a part of it in the glass. Burch 1
took up the glass and examined tin 1
contents critically. Then, stooping so '
as to get very near the bolder, he e> !
a mined it closely.
"When was it polished?" be asked.
"This morning. I polished all the!
silver this morning."
A part of the surface was blurred,
the rest was bright.
"Did you hnndle it after polishing
it?"
"Only by the bottom."
Burch put his mouth nearer the !
holder und breathed on It. Then, tak j
lng a little hand microscope from bis
vest pocket, he brought it to bear on
tilt blurred surface.
"U'm!" he said.
"Well?" said Mrs. Morton interroga- j
tively.
"Where can I lock up this bottle |
holder?"
"In any of the closets. There's one |
on each floor."
"No. Every nook and cranny of the |
! house will be searched."
110 threw himself into a chair an-' I
j thought. Mrs. Morton stood waiting j
The dead body lay 011 the bed. l'lual ,
j ly Burch. risiug. said:
"I must risk it."
j "Risk what?"
I "Before reporting my uncle's death )
I I must remove the bottle holder j
Promise me that you will say nothing 1
about It."
For the first time Mrs. Morton cast a 1
suspicious glance at Mr. Burcb.
"If I'm questioned about It I shall be 1
obliged to tell."
"If you are questioned, yes."
Mrs. Morton gave a reluctant con
sent.
"Get me s pasteboard box that wi'
hold It."
She went out of the room and pres I
cntly returned with a box. Burch cut
a hole in it large euough to let through
| the stand of the bottle holder, by j
which he grasped it, using the box a*
I a protector, so that nothing could
! touch the sliver surface.
"Call a cab."
| Mrs. Morton did as directed, and
I Burch, carrying the bottle holder by
its stand part, left the house, promis
ing to return soon. Within twenty
minutes he was back. Then he weut
to the telephone, called up the police
and reported that his uncle bad died
suddenly under very suspicious cir
cumstances. The coroner was not long
in coming and, after carefully Inspect
. ; ,
ing everything in the room, went out,
locking the door behind him nnd put
ting a policeman on guard.
While this was In progress William
Burch was locked In his own room
with a detective.
"My uncle has boen poisoned," he
said, "by some one whose left thumb
is missing. I wish you to find ttint
person. If you don't I shall either be
executed for murder or imprisoned for
life or go forth n man with a blighted
reputation. I was the last person
known to be with my uncle before his
death. In a few days or at most a
few weeks I shall be arrested.
"These are my disadvantages. On
the other side, I am heir to my uncle's
estate nnd can pay my lawyers and
you well. I care nothing for them
provided you succeed. Go. Find the
man with the missing thumb."
In Just two days from that day Wil
liam Burch was arrested for the mur
der of his uncle, John Trevor. After
the usual delay the case came to trial
Mrs. Morton wns the first witness for
the prosecution, and oue of the first
questions asked her was If there bad
been a holder for the soda bottle found
In the deceased's room. She replied
that there had been nnd when ques
tioned further testified that the ac
cused had taken it away.
[ This without any other evidence wns
enough to convict Burch. Another fea
ture alone was also sutlicient to that
end. Burch was his uncle's heir. A
i third feature admitted by Burch him
self clinched the other two. Being
put on the stand by his counsel nnd
asked what had passed between him
and his uncle at their last Interview.
Burch said:
"My uncle sent for me to tell me
| that he was intending to marry. This
I would turn his property away from
me. lie proposed to make my inter
est in it dependent upon the will of
the lady he was to marry. To this I
objected."
All wondered at this admission,
which indicated plainly that in order
to save an estate which was to pass
to another the prisoner had murdered
the owner.
A witness for the defense had been
summoned in the person of Edgar
I Whipple, a bookkeeper at the bank
At this point Burch's counsel cnlled
Whipple to the stand. lie was a pale,
nervous man, who seemed to be dread
ing the ordeal before him.
The examination of the witness de
veloped that lie had been carrying on
his books a deficit of some $50,000
which he had lost in speculation. The
next move of the defense was an at
tempt to prove that he had visited Mr
Trevor on the afternoon of the mur
der, that Mr. Trevor was the only pel
son who knew of his defalcation and
that the two held a conversation on
that subject. All this the witness de
nied, and as there was no proof of it
the opinion of those in the courtroom
was that a mistake had been made in
attempting to establish it.
Without dismissing the witness coun
sel for the defense gave au order to
| on attendant, who disappeared and re
! turned carrying a pasteboard box,
which he placed on a table before the
I lawyer. The cover was removed, and
| he lifted by its base from the box a
silver bottle holder.
Every person in the courtroom bent
forward with eager attention. Natu
rally it was inferred that this was the
missing article that Miss Morton had
testified the prisoner had removed. /
sensation was expected, aud a sensa
tion was realized. Counsel for the de
fense, still holding the bottle holder by
Its base, Carried it to the Jury box.
breathed on it, handed a microscope to
the Juryman nearest him and invited
him to examine the surface. This
process wns repeated with every jury
man. Then, carrying the holder back
to the table, the lawyer set it down
nnd said:
"Gentlemen of the jury, this stand
| held the bottle used when the murder
j ed man took his last drink. The sod.i
I wns poured Into the glass of whisky
' by some one who held It in his left
hand, the thumb of which was miss
! iug. This person then dropped In the
I glass a dose of prusslc acid, which litis
; since been found there by experts.
You have examined the silver surface
; and have found the Imprint of a hand
| with the thumb missing. That imprint
I came from the moisture of the hand
J that grasped the silver. It dried out.
j but I revived It with my moist breath.
| that you could all see It, that you
i might all have proof that the person
j ivimmHt...! ii.u u»mder was a man
j with a missing thumb."
! Then, turning to the witness, the
I lawyer said:
i "Hold up your left hand."
j Instead of obeying the order the wlt
j ness fell over In a faint. lie was pick
j ed up nnd placed on a chair, and as
soon as he came to himself an officer
j lifted the witness' hand, the thumb aw
which was missing.
| William Burch was acquitted, the
| jury not leaving their seats. He In
I herited a fortune from his uncle and
i settled a handsome annuity on the
i lady whom Mr. Trevor wns to have
j married.
j The man with the missing thumb
j died before being brought to trial
The Flag of Denmark.
In the year 1219 King Wnldemar of
Denmark, when lending bis troops to
battle against the Livoninns, saw, or
thought he saw, a bright light In the
form of a cross in the sky. He held
I this appearance lo be a promise of
' divine nld and pressed forward to vie
| tory. From this time he had the
| cross placed on the flag of his country
I and called If the Dannebrog—that l>
| the strength of Denmark. Aside from
l legend there Is no doubt that this Bus
j with the cross was adopted by Deu
I mark In the thirteenth century and that
| at about the same date au order,
j kuown as the order of Dannebrog, was
| Instituted, to which only soldiers and
sailors who were distinguished for
| courage were allowed to belong. The
i tiag of Denmark, a plain red banner
beurlng on It n white cross. Is the old
est flag now In existence. For 3uo
years both Norway and Sweden were
united with Denmark under this fl?g
—Housekeeper.
A Duke's Maxim.
It was a maxim of the first Duke of
Portland, who was a great lover of
race horses, that there were only two
places where all men are equal—on
the turf and under the turf.
A ROMANCE.
The Story as It Was Told by
Picture Postals.
r.-'.C-
By AGNES Q. BROGAN.
[Copyright, 1910, by American Tress Asso
ciation.]
"Mike" was not his true name. It
bad been bestowed by the clerks at
"Station D" becnuse of the never fall
ing good humor and ready wit which
characterized the stout, red haired,
postman, who had been In the service
of the United States government as
long as the men could remember, and
so generally was the name adopted
that &llke himself had almost forgot
ten the proper one.
The picture postals which found
their way Into his bag were a source
of unfailing delight, and often Mike
could folow the travels of some favor
ite by merely reading the cards as
they were sent home.
As he neared the stone house with
the white rosebush growing beside
the veranda the postmnn unconscious
ly quickened his steps and searched
eagerly aniotig the letters, for he
never liked to dlsapolnt Miss Isabel.
She was one of the few who had not
changed entirely In the process of
growing up. Mike ascended the steps,
"I OUKS3 IT'S FOB THE NT7R9R."
looking admiringly at the picture of a
very blue lake surrounded by very
green trees. Upon the opposite side of
the card he read:
Dear Mother—Cousin Robert and his
friend met me at the station. I am hav
ing a fine time. ISABEL*
"So she's away," Mike mused, a lit
tle disappointedly. "Well, she'll have
the good time all right." And so it
seemed, judging from the many gala
postals interspersed with thick letters
which were received dally at the stone
house. v»•-
Miss Isabel wrote constantly of pleas
ure trips with "Cousin Hobert and bis
friend," who later came to be deslg
uated as "Robert's friend Billy," and
then when the long summer was draw
lug to an eud the obliging Cousin Rob
ert's company seemed to bo dispensed
with, for the postnls read simply, "Bil
ly and I were here today."
Mike chuckled as he handed one of
these cards to the maid. "She won't
be coming home in a hurry," he said
confidentially. But in this he wns wis
taken, for she came smilingly to meet
him a few days afterward.
"I suppose 1 will have a bundle of
letters for you soon," he remarked.
"I hope so," she answered gayly.
He searched expectantly through his
pack next morning, and, sure enough,
there it was,"l will write you to
night—yours, Billy." while a printed
verse stated the fact that "absence
makes the heart grow fonder."
They came thick and fast after that
—letters, cards, a photograph or two
aud bulging little packages, all address
ed In the same free, bold hand which
Mike learned to recognize Instantly.
Isabel was always there as he came
down the street, apparently absorbed
In sow ing or hovering about the rose
bush with n great i release of eramin
fj g Us leaves. When Mike presented
.lis offering she would receive it with
the open di of a child.
"It's from Billy." he would say and
go away laughing at her confusion
The old postman was vastly Interested
In the unfolding love story, but there
caine a time when the girl waited In
vain, and he dreaded to meet her
questioning eyes, for Billy's letters had
ceased abruptly.
Mike pondered deeply. The shrewd
eyes could read more than postal
cards, and l»e was sure that she had
been too fond of this Billy to send hiui
away. Had the mother interfered or
—his face darkened savagely—was the
fellow himself to blame?
One morning as Mike was preparing
to start out upon his rounds the fa
miliar bold handwriting flashed Into
view as though in answer to his trou
bled thoughts. The freckled hand
trembled as he held the postal up to
the light. It was the picture of a
great ocean steamer, and the message
upon the addressed side danced dizzily
for a moment before his eyes, "nave
engaged pnssage for Oct. 5." he read
"Goodby forever, little Isabel Drew.
Billy."
And the old postman fought with the
greatest temptation of his life—to de
stroy a part of Uncle Sam's mall.
When he saw the little white lady
leaning back wearily in her chair upon
the veranda Mike was certain that he
would have preferred to pay the full
penalty due such a crime than to have
been the bearer of this cruel missive,
lie avoided her eyes as he turned
away, but there was a tremulous little
catch in the voice which thanked him.
To his great relief, Isabel no longer
awaited his comlnsr. and when he next
loft u Tetter for Uer mother it was a
white capped uurse who responded to
his ring.
lady sick?" Mike asked in
> which was supposed to express
interest, and the nurse an
swerou Mfely;
"Yes; sh«. Is very sick Indeed."
He stopped to inquire every day aft
er that and then pursued his way
gloomily. "Mike is gettlug peevish "
the clerks at the oilice Bald iu surprise.
An ulr of Intense anxiety seemed to
pervade the atmosphere of the stotie
house, and the bell was muffled, for
the patient had reached the crisis when
Mike again appeared at the door. He
was awkwardly holding a parcel wrap
ped in tissue paper.
"She used to like white roses," be
said to the nurse. "Put these in her
room."
At length news came that Isabel was
really getting better. The air of de
pression vanished. Once more Mike's
whistle sounded cheerily. Then he be
came puzzled over a letter which un
mistakably bore Billy's hand writ lug
and yet was not directed to the girl he
had treated so cruelly. Mike tlnally
camo to the conclusion that the fel
low had written to the nurse desiring
information concerning Isabel's condi
tion, and he fervently hoped that she
"wouldn't make it up with him."
He fingered the letter guiltily as he
approached the house and saw Isabel
herself standing upon the veranda. A
sudden moisture filled the sympathetic
postman's eye, for she was such a
small, white Isabel. Her dark hair had
been cut, and the short curls seemed to
change her back again into the little
girl who had raced to meet him upon
her way from school.
"I am glad you are better," he said
heartily, and she smiled.
"Thank you," she answered softly.
"You have been very kind. Any let
ters today?"
Mike drew a long breath. "There's
one here," he said hesitatingly. "1
guess It's for the nurse—addressed to
Mrs. William D. Rhodes."
Isabel extended an eager hand.
"Why, Mike," she said, laughing hap
pily, "don't you know—that I am Mrs
William Rhodes?"
He stared at her unbelievingly.
"You," he repeated dully—"you Mrs
Rhodes, and It wasn't the Billy fellow
after all?"
"Oh, but It was," she said rather
confusingly, "for Billy Is William
Rhodes."
The old postman still looked, bewil
dered. "You married to him all the
while," he said slowly, "and me think
ing when the letters stopped and he
went away bidding you 'goodby for
ever' on a postal card that it was all
over with."
She laughed merrily at his unblush
lng confession to reading her mall. "1
understand now," she said, "your dis
appointment at having no letters to
deliver, but you see when we became
engaged Billy managed to be trans
ferred to the company's office here, so
there was no further need of corre
spondence. We were married quietly
the very day before I was taken de.;
perately 111 with typhoid fever, which
had been threatening me for so lon-
Billy has been with me through It r!'
and now that I am strong enough",-
the glrl'sjeyes^ljone—"we are" going
upotTour long"posfponed wedding trij»
to Europe. The card you spoke of.'
she explained kindly, "was sent from
New York, where Billy had gone to
engage our passage, and ; knowing
I was {olid Carried the next day, he
bade goodby forever to Isabel Drew.'
Mike replaced his cap and sorted ou'
another handful of letters. The i.if
tlous smile appeared upon his face
and the Irish blue eyes twinkled. "Yo::
can't always tako It from the postals."
he said.
At the foot of the stair be doßVti
his cap again. "1 wish you much
happiness, Mrs. Rhodes," he added
ceremoniously, and the girl watched
him far down the street.
"Never was wish more sincere," she
murmured softly. The days followr.
each other uneventfully. No girlish fir i
bent over the rosebushes or stniV
from the window, and then one mo:.,
lug Mike discovered among his lot I t :
one bearing a European postmark a:
addressed In a small, neat hand—wbi-'
he well remembered—to Mrs. .la' <
Drew.
It would naturally be supposed that
such a bulky letter could convey nil
the news necessary, but with It. alsi
directed to Mrs. Drew, came a picture
postal, the same white boat will
had at one time aroused Mike's _iinp
and beneath the boat was penned:
Tou will be glad to know that Billy
and I have arrived safely and are well
and happy. ISABEL, RHODES
The postman ascended the steps ol
the stone house. "There's a letter 112 i
Mrs. Drew," he Informed the tuai
who opened the door, "and n post a
card for me."
"You!" the girl exclaimed scorn fa'
"Why, it's for her too."
"1 am not so sure of that," SI.
answered knowingly. "But you i
let her have It."
The door closed with a bang, fur t
maid had lwng since cersed trying '■
understand Mike and liis ways, a:i
the whistled tune. "lias Ajqybody Uen
Seen Kelly?" flouted riotously down
the street.
BERTILLON STUDIES HAIR.
Thinks He Has New Criminal Identi
fication Plan.
M. Bertlllon. well known for his fin
gerprint system of identification for
criminals, is collecting samples of hair
from all over the world. lie believes
he has hit on a new method which
will make still easier the identification
of any one sought by the police.
Every nation, says M. Bertlllon. has
a different way of expressing a defi
nite shade of hair, the Swedes, for in
stance, calling chestnut what the
French describe as blond. All sam
ples are classed and graduated mi
nutely according to shade in a large
cntalogue. and every shade will have a
special name which M. Bertlllon hopes
will be adopted as an international
standard.
British Railways Clear $219,000,000.
The British railways earned $584,-
000,000 gross and $210,000,000 net Iu
1900 on a mileage of 23,204. Freight
carried was 559,000.000 tons, an in
crease of 0,000,000 tons. Exclusive ojr
season ticket holders 1,264,857,000 pas
sengers were carried, a decrease of 13,-
275.000 from 100 S.
NEW ENGLAND TO
BOOM CORN CROP
J
Announces Exposition to En
courage Movement.
THINK GRAIN BELT INFERIOR.
Down East Farmer Winner of Greatest
Yield to Acr* Prize In 1908, and
Sweetest Species In World Grows In
Massachusetts and Connecticut la
Boast of Fair Promotors.
\ NEW ENGLAND BOASTS OF i
CORN CROP. X
Corn is a native of New Eng- 9
•> land. %
',][ The yield of corn to the acre j?
in the New England states Is <§>
*' higher than in the states of the x
•J. "corn belt." &
A New England farmer in 1908 x
<•• won the prize for the greatest »
% yield of corn to the acre.
<;• The finest sweet corn in the ®
% world is produced in the New &
• England states. S
Recognition of the surprising facta
cited above has brought about the
incorporation of the New England
Coru exposition, to be held in Worces
ter, Mass., in November. The ob
ject of the exposition is to demon
strate that New England can grow
corn awl to Impress upon the farmers
the value of corn as a product.
There will be Informative exhibits by
the six New England agricultural col
leges and seven experiment stations.
Dally lectures on corn improvement
will be given, as well as demonstra
tions of seed testing and corn and
grain Judging. The United States de
partment of agriculture is expected to
furnish interesting and valuable ex
hibits. a '
Want More Corn Raised.
"One of the weaknesses of farming
in New England," says J. Lewis Ells
worth, secretary of the Massachusetts
state board of agriculture and one of
the charter members of the new cor
poration, "Is the failure of the farmers
to raise their own corn."
"Very little corn is raised In Massa
chusetts. We want to get the farmer
Interested in this so that he will raise
his own corn. Formerly a farmer
would buy his corn, since that was
cheaper than raising it Now the
price of corn has increased by 100 per
cent since ISOO, and he Is not buying
so much." , l
The officers of the exposition. In urg
ing a more general production of corn*
explain that Massachusetts is exceeded
of product per acre by only
one state—Connecticut. Despite th»
fact that the cost of production, Is
probably higher in Massachusetts than*
in the corn belt of the Mississippi val
ley, there Is no doubt, they say, that
corn can be raised with a profit In this
sfate, for the average price per bushel
Is higher than In most states.
In 1005 the average farm prices of
corn were as follows: In the United
States as a whole, 28 cents; in lowa,
34 cents; in Illinois, 38 cents; in In
diana, 33 cents; in Massachusetts, 70
cents.
Much Fertilizer Needed.
Although fertilizers must be used ln>
greater quantity than in the state»
, named, Professor William P. Brooks,
director of the Massachusetts agricul
tural experiment station, points out
that "on many soils In Massachusetts
an average expenditure of about S2O
an acre for fertilizers will Insure an
annual product of sixty to seventy
bushels.
"This Is at the rate of only about
30 cents a bushel for corn produced,
but In M i-' •U'husetts tli ■ stover
is worth hum • «« fora.-e than in th»
western states "
Chinese Dusiness Honesty.
With due re ;i*'Ci for others, the-
Chinaman is pi : aps the mosi honor
able and upri.i: business man in the
world today I' is business principles
are founded . Irely upon honesty,
and he adhere- to the policy with the
Insistence of a leech. The chase after
dollars stops if he has to resort to low
tricks to get them. Of course a littlft
thing like telling a falsehood occasion
ally does not bother him so much, but
when It comes to plotting and schem
ing to defraud some one the task be
comes distasteful. The e.;tial of thai
Japanese i: ini;iative a;.d foresight,
he is much their superior when integ
rity Is concerned. A Japanese f'-'es
not think twice before deciding to get
the best of you. He calculates that
you are liable to change your mind op
get out of reach if he Indulges iu a
little mental debate ns to the propriety
of cheating vou.— Bookkeeper.
A BLella'bl*
TO SHOP
Por all kind of Tin Roofing*
Spoutlne nnd General
Job Work,
Stoves, Heaters, Ran«a« t
Furnaces, eto.
rRICES THG LOWEST!
QlllLlfl 188 BEST?
JOHN HIXSON
no. iif E. FRONT jrr,