i oy WHEN LOVE XI was busy with my plowing, "hen Love passed by. *Come,” she cried, “forsake thy drudging; Life's delights are few and grudging; What hath man cf all his striving, ‘All his planning and contriving, Here beneath the sky? When the grave opes to receive him Wealth and wit and hong ors leave him— Love endures for aye! But I answered: “I am plowing. When with straight and even furrow All the field is covered thorough, I will follow.” Love passed by. I was busy with my sowing, Ww hen Love passed by. “Come,” she cried, “give o'er thy toil- ing; For oe thou hast but moiling— Follow me, where meadows fertile Bloom unsown with rose-and myrtle, Laughing to the sky; Laugh for joy the thous: and flowers, Birds and brooks —~the laughing hours All unnoted fly.” But I answered: “I am sowing. When my acres are all planted, Gladly to thy realm enchanted I will follow. Love passed by. Pig The child was ars stretched out in his little white bed, and his eyes, grown large through fever, looked straight before him, always with the strange fixity of the sick who already perceive what the living do not see. The mother at the foot of the bed, torn by suffering and wringing her hands to keep herself from crying, anxiously followed the progress of the disease on the poor, emaciated face of the little being. The father, an honest workman, kept back the tears which burned his eyelids. The day broke clear and mild, a beautiful day in June, and lighted up the narrow room in the street of the Abessess where little Francois, the child of Jacques and Maleleine Legrand, lay dying. He was seven Years old and was very fair, very rosy, and so lively. Not three weeks ago he was gay as a sparrow; but a fever had seized him and they brought him home one evening from the public school with his head heavy and his hands very hot. From that time he had been here in this bed and sometimes in his delirium when he looked at his little, well-blackened shoes, which his mother had care- fully placed in a corner on a board, he said: “You can throw them away now, little Francois’ shoes! Little Fran- cois will not put them on any more! Little Francois will not go to school any more—never, never!’ Then the father cried out and said: ‘Wilt thou be still!” And the mother, very pale, buried her blond head in his pillow so that little Fran- cois could not hear her weep. When they wished him to take some medicine, some syrup, or a lit- tle soup, he refused. He refused everything. “Dost thou wish anything, Fran- ©ois?” “No, I wish nothing!” “We must draw him out of this,” the doctor said. ‘‘This torpor fright- ens me!—you are the father and the mother, you know your child well. Seek for something to reanimate this little body, recall to earth this spirit which runs after the clouds!” Then he went away. “Seek!” Yes, without doubt they knew him well, their Francois, these worthy people! They knew how it amused him, the little one, to plunder the hedges on Sunday and to come back to Paris on his father’s shoulders laden with hawthorn. Jacques Le- grand had bought some images, some gilded soldiers, and some Chinese shadows for Francois; he cut them out, put them on the child’s bed and made them dance before the be- wildered eyes of the little one, and with a desire to weep himself he tried to make him laugh. “Dost thou see, it i3 the broken bridge. Tire, tire, tire! And that is a general! Thou rememberest we saw one, a general, once, in the Bois de Boulougne? If thou takest thy medicine well IT will buy thee a real one with a cloth tunic and gold epaulettes. Dost thou wish for him, the general, say?”’ “No,” replied the child, with the dry voice which fever gives. “Dost thou wish a pistol, marbles—a cross-bow ?”’ “No,” repeated the little voice, clearly and almost cruelly. And to all that they said to him, to all the jumping-jacks, to all the balloons that they promised him, the little voice—while the parents looked at each other in despair--respopded; *No.' No. Nol!» “But what dost thou wish, my Francois?” asked the mother. ‘“‘Let us see, there is certainly something thou wouldst like to have. Tell it! tell it to me! to me! thy mother!” And she laid her cheek on the pillow of the sick boy and whispered this softly in his éar as if it were a se- cret. Then the child with an odd accent, straightening himself up in his bed and stretching out his hand eagerly toward some invisible thing, replied suddenly in an ardent tone, at the same time supplicating and im- perative: “I want Boum-Boum!” Boum-Boum! Poor Madeleine threw a frightened look toward her husband. What did the little one say? Was it the de- lirium, the frightful delirium, which had come back again? Boum-Boum! some -houses of the great lords. She did not know what that meant PASSED BY. I was busy with my reaping, Ww ben Love passed by. “Come,” she cried, “thou planted’st griav- ing Ripened | SorTOWS ars thou sheaving. 1f the heart lie fallow, vain is Garnered stove. Thy wealth of gram is Less than Love's least sigh. Haste thee—for the hours fast dwindle Ere the py yre of Hope shall kindle In life's western sky. But I answered: “I am reaping. When with song of youth and maiden, 1 Tome the he I will follow.” Love passed by. ck-cart comes, full-laden, I had Sethered in my harvest, hen Love passed by. “Stay,” I called—to her, Swift speeding, Turning not, my cry unheeding— “Stay, O Love, 1 fain would follow, Stay thy flight, oh fleet-winged swallow leaving twilight sky! I am old and worn and weary, Void my fields and heart—and dreary, Vith thee would I fly. Garnered woe is all my harvest, Sad ghosts of my dead hopes haunt me, Fierce regrets, like demons, taunt me— Stay!—I follow!” "Love passed by. —Solomon Solis-Cohen. a sickly persistence as if, not having dared until now to formulate his dream, he grasped the present time with invincible obstinacy: “Yes, Boum-Boum! I want Boum-Boum!”’ The mother had seized Jacques’ hand and spoke very low, as if de- mented. “What does that mean, Jacques? He is lost!” But the father had cn his rough, workingman’'s face a smile almost happy, but astonished, too, the smile of a condemned man who foresees a possibility of liberty. Boum-Boum! He remembered well the morning of Easter Monday when he had taken Francois to the circus. He had still in his ears the child's outbursts of joy, the happy laugh of the amused boy, when the clown, the beautiful clown all spangled with gold and with a great gilded butterfly sparkling, many-colored, on the back of his black costume, skipped across the track, gave the trip to a rider or held himself motionless and stiff on the sand, his head down and his feet in the air. Or again he tossed up to the cham- delier some soft, felt hats, which he caught adroitly on his head, where they formed, one by one, a pyramid; and at each jest, like a refrain bright- ening up his intelligent and droll face, he uttered the seme cry, repeat- ed the same word, accompanied now and then by a burst from the orches- tra: Boum-Boum! Boum-Boum! and each time that it rang out, Boum-Boum, the audience burst out into hurrahs and the little one joined in with his hearty, little laugh. Boum-Boum! It was this Boum-Boum, it was the clown of the circus, it was this favorite of a large part of -.the city that little Francois wished to see and to have and whom he could not have and could not see since he was lying here without strength in his white bed. Ah! if Jacques could have wrapped him up in his blankets, could have carried him to the circus, could have shown him the clown dancing under the lighted chandelier and have said to him, look! He did better, Jacques; he went to the circus, demanded the address of the clown, and timidly, his legs shaking with fear, he climbed, one by one, the steps which led to the apartment of the artist, at Mont- martre. It was very bold this that Jacques was going to do! But, after all, the comedians go to sing and recite their monologues in drawing rooms, at the Perhaps the clown—oh! if he only would— would consent to come and say good day to Francois. No matter, how would they receive him, Jacques Le- grand, here at Boum-Boum'’s house? He was no longer Boum-Boum! He was Monsieur Moreno, and, like the artistic dwelling, the books, the engravings, the elegance was like a choice decoration around the charm- ing man who received Jacques in his office like that of a doctor. Jacques looked, but did not recog- nize the clown, and turned and twist- ed his felt hat between his fingers. The other waited. Then the father excused himself. ‘It was astonishing what he came there to ask, it could not be—pardon, excuse. But in short, it was concerning the little one. A nice little one, monsieur. And so intelligent! Always the first at school, except in arithmetic, which he did not understand. A dreamer, this little one, do you see! Yes, a dreamer. And the proof—wait—the proof.” Jacques now hesitated, stammered; but he gathered up his courage and said, brusquely: “The proof is that he wishes to see you, that he thinks only of you, and that you are there before him like a star which he would like to have, and that he looks ‘When he had finished the father was deadly pale and he had great drops on his forehead. He dared not look at the clown, who remained with his eyes fixed on the workman. And what was he going to say, this Boum- Boum? Was he going to dismiss him —take him for a fool and put him out the door? “You live?” asked Boum-Boum. “Oh, very near! Street of the Abessess!”’ “Come!” said the other. “Your boy wants to see Boum-Boum? Ah, Boum-Boum! and she was afraid of these singular | well, he is going to see Boum-Boum.” words which the child repeated with | When the door opened ond showed the clown, Jacques Legrand cried out joyfully to his son: “Francois, be happy, child! See, here he is, Boum-Boum!” A look of great joy came over the child’s face. He raised himself on his mother’s arm and turned his head to- ward the two men who approached, questioning, for a mement, who it was by the side of his father; this gentleman in an overcoat, whose good, pleasant face he did not know. When they said to him, “It is Boum- Boum,” he slowly fell back on the pillow and remained there, his eyes fixed, his beautiful, large blue eyes which looked beyond the walls of thé little room and were always seek- ing the spangles and the butterfly of Boum-Boum, like a lover who pur- sues his dream. “No,” replied the child, with a voice which was no longer dry, but full of despair, “no, it is not Boum- Boum.” The clown, standing near the little, bed, threw upon the child an earnest look, very grave, but of an inex- pressible sweetness. He shook his head, looked at the anxious father, the grief-stricken mother, and said, smiling, ‘‘He is right; this is not Boum-Boum!’’ and then he went out. “I cannot see him, I will never see Boum-Boum any more!” repeated the child, whose little voice spoke to the angels. ‘‘Boum-Boum is perhaps there, there, where little Francois will soon go.” And suddenly—it was only half an hour since the clown had disappeared —the door opened quickly and in his black, spangled clothes, his yellow cap on his head, the gilded butterfly on his breast and on his back, with a smile as big as the mouth of a money box and a powdered face, Boum-Boum, the true Boum-Boum, the Boum-Boum of the eircus, the Boum-Boum of the popular neigh- borhood, the Boum-Boum of little Francois—Boum-Boum appeared. Lying on his little white bed the child clapped his thin, little hands, laughing, crying, happy, saved, with a joy of life in his eyes, and cried ‘Bravo’ with his seven-year gayety which all at once kindled up like a match: “Boum-Boum! It is he, it is he, this time! Here is Boum-Boum! Long live Beum-Boum! Good day, Boum-Boum.” And when the doctor came back, he found, seated by little Francois’ bedside a clown with a pale face who made the little one laugh again and again, and who said to the child while he was stirring a piece of sugar into a cup of medicine: ‘““Thou knowest, if thou dost not drink, little Francois, Boum-Boum will not come back any more.” So the child drank. “Is it not good?” “Very good! Thanks, Boum- Boum!” “Doctor,” said the clown to the doctor, “do not be jealous. It seems to me that my grimaces will do him as much good as your prescriptions!’’ The father and the mother wept, but this time from joy. BOUM-BOUM, Acrobatic Doctor and Physician in or- dinary to little Francois! —Translated for Short Stories Maga- zine, from the French of Jules Clare- tie, by Mary Stuart Symonds. Canadian Canal Tonnage. Freight passing through the canals at Sault Ste. Marie, Mich., and On- tario, Canada, during July amounted to 7,732,771 net tons, 6,273,734 of which represented an eastbound and 1,459,037 a westbound movement. Of the total traffic, 6,941,164 tons were shipped through the American and 791,607 through the Canadian canal. Similar traffic in July, 1905, amounted to 6,703,706 tons and in 1904 to 5,605,079 tons. During the first four months of the present sea- son the aggregate freight movement through these canals amounted to 22,710,551 tons, not exceeding the corresponding movements in 1905 by nearly three million tons and those of 1904 by over thirtee: millions. Zion Hill's “Sacred Eleven.” Preparations have begun for the celebration next vear of the centen- nial of Andover Theological Semin- ary. There are only eleven students all told there now, but it has an en- dowment of $1,000,000, and its pro- fessors outnumber the students. In the century just closing, however, 2168 students have been graduated, a majority of them entering the Con- gregational ministry. Last year only six gained a degree. During the last six years sixteen students were the highest enrollment for any one year. The present enrollment is termed the “sacred eleven” by the town boys.— New York Tribune. King Edward Takes a Cab. The King was at the station when he should have been at the Jockey Club’s rooms, and there was nothing for it but to hail a cab from the ranks and ride en petit gentilhomme. It must have been a proud moment for William Challis, licensed cabman of Newmarket. He is a made man—if he has the normal endowment of a cabman’s wit, at any rate—for who can resist him now when he savs, ‘“Thankee, sir; you’ve ridden in the werry cab and on the werry cushion the King did, an’ ’e tipped me ’and- some, God bless him for a gentle- man!”’—Pall Mall Gazette. Tests made in France indicate that water can be sterilized with ozone at the cost of about a cent and a half for every one thousand gallons, when the process is carried on on a large | scales TALE S OF ADVENTURE GIRL FIGHTS ALLIGATOR. A frail, slender girl, one fine night early in April, 1903, Miss Nelson, sat quietly beside her mother. From the next room, where the two little children had been left playing, came 2 strange grating sound. The older sister stepped to the door between the two apartments, only to turn pale with dismay and horror, for there, fast asleep on the hearth rug, lay the little brother and sister, and crawling slowly across the Zoo: toward them a great, slimy alliga- tor, evidently attracted to the house by the hope of young kittens or pup- pies, wriggled and writhed. Its wicked, stony eyes, grim with Dale- ful light, were fixed on the uncon- scious babies, and the wide jaws, open and ponderous, dripped with the foam of eager, unsatisfied greed. Frantically calling to the dogs out- side the front door to enter and help her, the brave girl caught up the large lamp that stood just within the mother’s room, and hurled it full at the horrible, gaping jaws. Then, leaping aside to escape the furious ‘onslaught thus brought upon herself, she stooped quick as thought, and tossed upon the high bed in the cor- ner the suddenly roused and fright- ened children. She turned from this task to find that the infuriated alli- gator, diverted from its original pur- pose and confused by the unexpected attack, had dashed straight through the open door and made its way to the bedside of the helpless, terrified mother. Without a second’s hegita- tion the devoted daughter rushed to her aid. A shovel of hot coals from the glowing fire thrown directly against the vicious eyes of the angry creature only served to strengthen and inten- sify his fury. Apparently his entire will was now bent upon the destruc- tion of the helpless woman on the bed. The awful, snapping jaws were within a few feet of her body when the desperate Alice, returning from the kitchen with the stout ax that had just recurred to her memory, sank it to the helve in the thick neck. Narowly escaping severe injury in the death struggle that followed, all but fainting with nervousness and conflicting emotions, the brave girl followed this blow by others no less telling and doughty. When the still quivering, but no longer murderous, creature had been reduced to abso- lute impotence theentirehouse looked as though it had been wrecked by vandals, and the weary conqueror found herself suffering from many bruises.—Woman's Home Compan- ion. o* 73 DAYS WITH DEATH. The first detailed account ef Peary’s record-making expedition, published by the New-York Herald, while somewhat meagre of scientific detail, sets forth in a very striking manner the almost insurmountable difficulties of travel in these high re- gions. The safe return of an expedi- tion such as that carried northward in the Roosevelt last summer is, even under such consummate and expert leadership as that of Peary, almost miraculous. To stumble and crawl over an un- broken sea, covered with broken, tangled masses of floating ice sep- arated in all directions by stretches of black water, which ‘“leads’ close and open upon no understandable system; to push steadily forward, knowing that return may be impos- sible; to wander for some seventy- odd days, as did Peary, over this arctic waste of shifting ice, and then to get back to solid land again with only some dogs missing-—is a won- derful illustration of what human in- telligence and perseverance can ac- complish. One cannot but feel, iowever, that despite intelligence and experience and the best of equipment and lead- ership, safe return from such an ex- pedition is largely a matter of chance. Conditions against which no human power could avail might have doomed the whole party to extermination. In view of the constant series of gales which prevailed not only during the sledge expedition over the ice, but also when the Roosevelt was making her northing, it seems justifiable to assume that the record of eighty- seven degrees and six minutes might have been considerably exceeded if weather conditions had been more favorable. The sledge party was delayed many days by blinding storms, and turned back where it did, not because of any new or insurmountable obstacles, but for fear the supply of provisions would not be sufficient to provision the reireat if any further northing was attempted.—New York Globe. RIDDLES OF THE SEA. Two sea riddles formed the basis of the story on which Stewart Ed- ward White and Samuel Hopkins Ad- ams collaborated in the American Magazine. One is the classic Marie Celeste disappearance in 1887, which is said to have formed the plot for more fictional ‘‘explanations’ than any other single marine event. The Marie Celeste was a “thirteen ship,” having left New York for European ports in 1887 with thirteen souls | aboard, including the captain’s wife. Two weeks later she was sighted in mid-Atlantie, deserted. She was in nerfect condition, her sails set, a half- eaten meal on the table, the captain’s ’s work on the machine and her 11 boats all inboard. There was 10 sign of any disturbance and the weather was mild. No explanation of the circumstances has ever been Those who might have fur- and for- given. nished one had vanished, ever. What is lacking in this phenome- non for the purposes of the writers was furnished by the still more in- explicable circumstance of the de- relict picked up in 1881 several hun- dred miles off the coast of America, by the Ellen Austin. Why she should ba derelict no man could say, since she was apparently in good condition A prize crew was put on board. The Ellen Austin parted company with her, only to pick her up several days later, again deserted and derelict. With difficulty a second crew was persuaded to take her in charge. Again she disappeared, and this time neither ship nor crew was ever heard of again. DOG PROVES FAITHFUL. There is a blind man in Fort Worth, Texas, who has long been a familiar figure on the street corners. He sells the Dallas News every morn- ing and is led from place to place by a dog, which seems to possess as much inteligence as a human being, although it hasn't the power of speech. The dog’s master’s eyes are sight- less, but the faithful little animal supplies the eves for the man and conducts him to any part of the city in a manner that is marvelous. When the man wants to buy another sup- ply of the Dallas News he shakes the chain and says a word or two to the dog. The canine wags his tail, looks up into his master’s face and leads him unerringly to the News branch office. Perhaps it is necessary to cross the streets once or twice to get them, but the dog loks out for automobiles, street cars and other vehicles and shields his biind owner from danger. Although successful heretofore in protecting his master from bodily harm in the crowded streets, the dog himself was not so fortunate to-day, for while in the act of passing from one curb to another he was struck by a buggy wheel and badly injured about his hind legs. In considerable pain and walking on three legs, the dog showed no disposition to neglect his master after the accident, but continued to lead him from place to place until the morning's work was finished and both wended their way slowly homeward, the dog limping and making little progress and the blind man groping his way behind him. SIEGE OF MULLIGAN’S FORT. “Mulligan’s Fort,” Arva, County Cavan, has fallen after a siege last- ing since June. Then the landlord obtained a decree for possession of the premises of Mr. Mulligan, who immediately barricaded the house, built a wall along the back of the premises topped with barbed wire, heavily shuttered the windows and reinforced them with sandbags and put in extra doors. The fort was garrisoned with re- lays of men, who at first numbered about fifty, and these kept a sharp lookout for the police and bailiffs. The display of force was apparently too much for the authorities, who made no attempt to storm the cita- del. A few weeks ago Mr. Mulligan obtained another house, and funds for the defense having run low the garrison was withdrawn and the fort was shut up. Yesterday morning a special train arrived at Leggaginny Crossing, near Armagh, with a very strong force of police and bailiffs. The men reached Arva before the inhabitants were astir and when they rose they found the fort in possession of the enemy without a blow being struck. The landlord, who arrived in Cavan dur- ing the day, was unable to obtain a convéyance to take him to Arva.— London Daily Mail. UNARMED, KILLS A WILDCAT. Unarmed and all alone, Thomas Dyke, a prominent young man of Mt. Carmel, Pa., was attacked by a wild- cat on the Locust Mountain. Dyke had driven to Ashland, and when he had come two iniles toward tome his horse tramped on a nail and was placed in a stable. He then decided to walk home, and was on the top of the mountain when the cries of a wildcat caused his hair to raise. Crouched on the side of the road, not ten feet from him, was the cat. The animal finally sprang at him, but he jumped aside, and as the body of the cat struck the road he jumped on it. For several minutes the fight he- tween the wild beast and the man went on, when, by a quick swing, the man broke the arimal’s back. The balance of his journey home was un- eventful. A physician dressed sev- eral deep scratches on his face and hands.—Philadelphia Record. FARMER RESCUED BY HIS DOG. William Woodburn, aged seventy- one years, of Independence, was at- tacked and fatally injured by a vic- ious hog, a faithful collie dog saving him from being killed outright. Woecdburn was alone on his farm, but his cries of pain and fright brought to his rescue his dog, which fought off the hog and killed it. The dog then stoed guard over his master for two hours until human help are rived.-——Washington correspondence Wheeling Intelligencer ART] QULTURE NEW WINDOW PLANT. The Sanseveria Zealenica is being appreciated for sunless windows and porch boxes. Its erect, rigid, sword=- like leaves gives it a novel appear- ance "in the midst of drooping and trailing plants. The thick, fleshy dark-green leaves, with elouded bars of white, make it always decorative; and in May and June it sends up long, plumy flower pikes of feathery, white. PUT ROSES IN THE CELLAR. Put the young roses tha: have just rooted into the cellar, where the frost will not reach them, but do not keep them too warm. If started very early in the spring in the house, and uet out in the open air after the frost has passed, they will make rapid growth and bloom during the sum-- mer. 1d rose bushes may be cut baek after the ground is cold, and protected with straw or old bags. PROTECT YOUNG PLANTS. Before the ground freezes the rasp- berry plants may be laid down and covered with a slight covering of earth, and the strawberry plants should also receive a covering of some coarse material—always re- membering that, as this plant is par- tially an evergreen, it must not be covered so deep as to keep the air from the green leaves. Whatever tender plants there may be in the garden that are to be left over win~- ter should be carefully protected. TO PLANT GRAPE VINES. Grape vines should be planted about eight feet apari each way and about ten inches deep, cutting them back to two or three buds above ground. A crop of potatoes or straw=- berries ‘may be grown between the rows the first two years. An excel- lent plan is to allow two canes to grow the first year, cutting back each Year to three buds, again allowing two canes to grow. When the vines are five or six years old from three to five canes may be'left. Always cut the old wood back to about a foot of the ground if stocky vines are fe- quired. It is the young woods that bear fruit. THE BEST SHADE TREES. During a severe storm in Wash- ington, D. C., it is stated that prob- ably a thousand trees were badly in- jured. The soft or silver maple, says Ar- boriculture, suffered by far the great- est loss, while the Carolina poplar, or cottonwood, was also badly broken. Norway maple, sugar maple, all the oaks, Oriental plane, or Euro- pean sycamore, honey locust, most of the coniferous trees and ginkgo, were among those which were able to with- stand the beating and bending which the storm caused for an hour or two. There are two trees, the silver .na- ple and the cottonwood, which are planters than all other shade trees of America. Both have one fatal quali- fication, that of rapid growth. Los- ing sight of permanency and many more excellent qualifications, these two inferior trees are planted to the exclusion of all other trees. Both these trees are short lived, very much diseased, attacked by in- numerable insects, while both are se- riously damaged by wind storms. Both require much water, and send cisterns, which they frequently de- stroy. THINGS TO REMEMBER. To plant bulbs which will flower early next spring. To make a cold frame for early use the coming season To clean up and manure the as- paragus beds. To set out new asparagus and rhu- barb beds. To pot geraniums, begonias and other plants for blooming in the Louse. To examine the bees and feed them if they have not sufficient winter sup- plies. To get the pullets quarters. To feed cut bone liberally if the pullets have not already begun to lay. To dress off the hens which are too slow in recovering from the molt. Dahlias may be kept blooming if they are covered with papers at night. Particular care must be exercised in picking winter fruit, for even a slight bruise will impair the keep- ing qualities. Pick the apples or pears into a basket or bag and trans- fer them carefully to the barrel or bin where they are to be stored. Fall plowing is an excellent prac- tice in gardens where there are a great number of cut-worms and other pests. It is also a good plan if the soil is heavy, as the alternate freez- ing and thawing will help to pulver- ize it. If a heavy coating of manure is plowed in at the same time the benefit will be twofold. Choice fruits can be kept a long time in perfect condition by wrapping into winter | each specimen in paper.—Suburbanp Life. more popular with the mass of tree. their roots into sewers, wells and Lh ak and dn ah ea ak AA ple AA bd bd a sb PR hd Sond Ar oath aad tht I bt bl hoth lt bd ab aD Bd tl a taal I al a ale a Ohh mb Bh de Hh hed A PR LA bed Bede bd PA BY bod ped pagd Beg BOA ret eh aod a Meg A fd aA DAH Pd £0 pg teh mg Ay Ay be oo Aa ON 8 = Ne on
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers