THE SILFNT RULER. 7 only know he walks with noiseless tread, . Unresting ever voiceless a the dead. We only know he tiring n loss or Ruin, The rose ot plensuro, or tlio rue of pnlu All ohsnire tnnnlfnld of life or death. From a lout's promise to a dying breath. We only know when this oM enrth nnd sky 1'ass Into nothingness, ho cnunot die , Tim silent ruler with his scytlin nml Rlnss, Our Father Tlmo, who sees the nations linen Te rIvcs no token over Innd or sen Of hH new rnlRn the vellnd etnrnlly. William II. llnynn, In youth' Companion, i lMYSISTEirS"CIIANCE."l k nr snK t. nixrnnn. , OU enn't guess w lint's going to happen," rncd my sister Mi zabeth one morning ns she mine running tip the path from the gate, where she had lieen to meet the postman. Hlio lml nn open letter in her hand. "Jlns Nome one loft yon ft fortune?" I nsked. "Oh- better than that," was there ply. "I'm going to have n beau! Listen," anil she proceeded to read ine her letter: Dta Ki.i7Anr.Tn: I write to toll you Hint s friend of mine has fallen In love with vour nhotoitrnph. Hn Is n widower. nnl on the look-out fur another wife. Ho happened to see your pl"tum, nml It won 111 susceptible heart nt nnee. He asked nil kinds of question about you, and when he found out Hint you were "fancy free" he said he "had n itid mind to come an' see yon. Meoho there wn the chnnen he'd been lookln' fur." I ndvlsed him to eome, "Vou cnu tell by trying," I said. And he's coming! He hns ot some business to trnnsnrt In the city 1 liursilny, and he will litop off at Holmesvlllo on Wednesday and visit you. lie kind to the poor man, and scud me nn invitation to 1110 weaning. Hastily, AtrxT MAniA i "That' just like Aunt Marin, isn't It?" cried Elizabeth, half amused and halt indignant. "Hhe's bound to have fun nt Homebody's expense. I ran imagine her laughing every time she thinks of the joke she considers she lias played on me. 1 he idea of her Bending an old widower to see ine!" ".She didn't exactly send him," responded. "Hut I think she lather enoouraged him to come. Whnt's that she says about Wednesday? To day's Wednesday, Elizabeth, and yon can look for your admirer by the next train. The letter ought to have got here yesterday, you see by its date Go and get ready to entertain him there s no time to lose. "I'm thoroughly out of patience vita Aunt Maria, stud Elizabeth. "I've a notion to go away somewhere and stay till he s gone. "Bat he'd come again if he's so desperately smitten with your photo graph, or he'd stay till you came home, or he'd fall in love with me and you'd lose your 'chance,' " I said, "No Btay and face the niuisic, Eliza beth." "I know what I'll do!" cried my sis ter, the mischief-loving trait common to her and Aunt Maria coining to the ' surfaoe. "I'll pretend I'm deaf, nud I'll have some fun out of it, as well as Aunt Maria." "Yon can't carry out snch a decep tion without getting caught at it," said. "Trust me for that!" criod Eliza beth, with sparkling eyes. I think she began to be glad that Auut Maria had encouraged the widower to come. 'Now, remember, I'm totally unable to hear a word of ordinary conversa tion. It will be necessary for yon to almost shout at me if yon want me to understand what you're saying. And be sure to keep from laughing. The fnn all depends upon keeping up the deception. We must not let him dis cover it, for that would make us ridio ulons, yon see. There! I hear the train. We can expect him at any mo ment now. Oh, dear! I know I shall want to langh, but I shan't do it von Bee if I dol I'll go and get ready to receive mm. wuen lie comes you nanst meet him, and bring him in and introduce mm, and awnv ran hit fun loving sister to get ready for her visi tor. Ten minutes later I saw a man com ing down the road from the station. and I knew as soon as I set my eyes on mm mat it was Elizabeth a ad mirer. He was at least forty-five years ma, wuq- a very solemn-looking face, and an air of having his Sunday clothes on. But perhaps his errand made him look soberer than usual and feel ill at ease. T met him at the door. "Does Miss 'Lizabeth Jones live here?" he asked. "Yes, sir," I answered. "I think ehe's expecting yon. Yon are the gentleman 0nr aunt Maria Thorpe wrote ns aooui, i suppose'' Xes, I be," was the reply. "Mv name's Peters Joshua Teters. But mebbe she told yon?" "No, she did not tell ns your name she simply said you were coming to ee Elizabeth. She's in the sittiug room. I'll take yon in and introduce von. Yon'll have to speak rather load, for Elizabeth's just a trifle hard of hearing." . "That's bad," said Mr. Peters, pulling out a big red handkerchief and wiping his perspiring face. "Awful warm, ain't it?" "Quite warm," I rosponded. By that time we were at the sitting-room door. Elizabeth sat by the window with her back toward us. "Elizabeth," I said, raising my Voioe. No reply. "Elizabeth!" this time ia a louder tone. Btill no reply. "She mast be dretful deef to not tear that," said Mr. Peters, "flow Ion- she been so?" - I did not dare trnst mvselt to reply. I went np to Elizabeth and put my band on her shoulder, She turned and saw ns. "Why die n't yon speak when you came in?" she asked, rising. "She did she hollered," sold Mr. Peters in a sort of stage aside. "Elizabeth, this is Mr. Peters the gentleman Aunt, Maria wrote about," I said close to her ear. "Oh yes, I understand!" said Eliza beth, her fnee showing great delight and interest. "I'm happy to meet yon, Mr. Peasley. Sit down, please, and let a talk to earn other. 1 want to get acquainted right away. I hope you're well, Mr. Pensley?" "Peters, uotreosley, rorrecteel uer visitor. "A little louder, please T didn't qnite rnteh what you said," and Eliza beth bent her head to listen. "I said my name wan't rensley," shouted the other. "It's Peters." "Oh yes, I understand now," re sponded Elizabeth. "Excuse me, but it was all sister Jane's fault, she speaks in such n low tone. I'm not so very deaf, still one has to talk rather loud for me to understand all they say." "Your aunt M'rinr told me about yon," said Mr. Peters, sitting down. "I've knowed her quito a spell." "Aunt Maria isn't nt all well? You surprise me, Mr. Peters. She didn't say anything about it in her letter." "I said I'd knowed her quite a spell," said Mr. Peters, in a voioelike a trumpet. "Oh, yes pardon me," snid Eliza beth. '"'When you speak a trifle louder than usual, like that, I have no diffi culty in understanding what yon say." "She must be awful deef if she rnlls that a tritlo louder 'n usual," said Mr. Peters to me, "Hain't she never had anything done to her eors?" I made an excuse to get nwny as soon as possible. I couldn't have kept my fare straight much longer. I busied mvselt about getting dinner, but I could hear every word of the conversation in the kitchen. Eliza beth asked him atl about his farm, and his family, and seemed to be getting very much interested in him. She kept him repeating his remarks until I fancied he was getting hoarse. "I've always fancied I would like living on a farm," said Elizabeth. "Do you think the children would take kindly to to a stepmother, Mr. Peters?" ' "They'd have to if I got married again," was his reply. "I reckon there wouldn't ba any trouble about thnt." "No, I don't like cats," said Eliza beth. "I'd prefer a dog. Do you keep a dog, Mr. Peters? "I didn't sny anything about cats," he responded. "You didn't ketch uiy remark. "I think just as you do about that," responded Elizabeth. "I don't like to hear them bark. We seem to have qnite a similarity of tastes, don't we, Mr. Peters?" Presently dinner was ready, and they came out together and sat down to the meal. I had told Elizabeth that I would wait on them. I knew I could never undergo the ordeal of sit' ting at table with them. "I suppose yon havo lots of straw berries aud fresh cream and every' thing like that on the farm," said Elizabeth, her faoe fairly beaming with iuterest. "How delightful it must be!" "I like it," said Mr. Peters. "There's a good deal of hard work about it, though. One has to git up afore nun riHe, and that makes a long day of it in summer. "Yes," answered Elizabeth. "I like summer. It's strange what a similar ity of tastes we have, isn't it? I hope yon like moonlight walks and boating, Mr. Peters? I do so muou! "Wall, I can't jest say as I do," re sponded Mr. Peters. "Bein' out at night, 'specially on the water, don't agree with me. It makes me roouia tick." "Romantic? There it is again!" cried Elizabeth in delight. "I'm so glad you are, for I m the most romau tic girl you ever saw." "I didn't say romantic," corrected Mr. Peters in a tone that made the dishes dance. "I said roomntick." "Oh, pardon me," said Elizabeth "But occasionally yon seem to forget that I am a trifle deaf, and speak so low. But you d get used to it in time. "I don't b'leeve I ever would," said Mr. Peters to roe. "Don't you a'pose some thin could be done for her?" "I don't know, I'm sure," I replied, turning away to hide my face. All that afternoon my wioked sister kept that poor man snouting at her. By Uogrees he got hoarse and hoars er, just before tea was ready he came into the kitchen where I was at work. "I'm all beat out," he said. "My throat feels rougher'n a grater. It's harder work to carry on a conversa tion with her tbau it is to drive oxen. It's a dretful pity she can't have some- thin' done for her ears. She's smart, an' good lookin', au' she seems to take a great liken' to me." "Maybe you'd get used to it and wouldn't mind it after a little," I said, consolingly. "I dou't know I'm afraid not," he said. "It's considerable of a risk to run. Do yon s'pose now she'd be willin' to go "n see some ear doctor 'n see 'f he couldn't do somethin'? I wouldn't like to make any agreement of any kind unless there was some chance of uor hearin' better'n she does now." - "You'd better talk with her about it," I suggested. "I cau't." said Mr. Peters. "I'm jest used up. -1 guess she gets worse to'ards night, for it' harder work to make her understand now than it was at noon. I did think o' stay in' over till to-morrow, but X guess I'll be a goin'. You can talk with her if you'd jest as soon, an' if she ia willin' to have her ears dootered, an' it does any good, I'll come down agin. I don see why yonr aunt didn't ie'.l me about it. But mebbe she was afraid yonr sister d lose the chance if she let on aforehand. It's a dretful pity I I can't help tnkin' to her, but I wouldn't feel like tannin the risk." "I've en loved Toiir visit so ninnh. dear Mr. Peters," said Elizabeth nt parting. "Come ngain, won't yon, now? nnd soon." "Thnt depends," shouted the poor man. "lour sister 'II toll you what I've been a snyin' to her when I'm gone." "Oil yes, yes! I shall think of yon when you're gone," said Elizabeth. "Ion 11 write, won t yon? "I can't promlso," said Mr. Teters. "It was alius dretful hard work for me to write," he said to me, "but I iliinno but it'd be easier 'n talkiu' to her. Don't forgit to toll her whnt t snid about seein nn ear doctor, will you? An if she does, an he helps her, let me know. I wouldn't mind stnndiu' part o' the expense, if it did any good. I sh'd think she'd be wil lin' to do somethin' sooner 'n lose the chance." When the gate closed behind poor Mr. Peters I set down aud laughed till I cried. "Oh, Jane!" cried Elizabeth, drop ping down on the floor, "I never had such fan in all my life, never! He shouted at mo till the sound of IBs voice roared in my ears like thunder. I wouldn't wonder if it really made me deaf. Poor man) I thought I should diet It's a 'dretful pity' to lose snch a cbnnre, but there's such a 'risk to run! Oh, dear, oh, dear!" and then Elizabeth aud I laughed and cried together over the disap pointment of poor Mr. Teters, nnd the "chance" that she had lost. New York Lodger. Oldest Living Woman. In the year 1781, when Lord Corn wallis began in joy nnd ended in dis aster his campaign in Virginia against the American colonists, thoie was born at Fermanagh, Ireland, a gill baby who, living yet, at the age of 110 years, is believed to be the oldest person in the world. While that baby was still in arms Lnfnyette and Washington were marshalling their forces to check the victorious march of Cornwallis through Virginia, nnd on October 19 of that year Lord Cornwallis surrendered his army at Y'orktown, and the in dependence of whnt is now the United States of America was assured. That girl-child whose lifo began al most with that of the United States is Mrs. Anno Armstrong, now of county Clare, Ireland. She grew up in Fermanagh and married there. Her husband was a member of the Royal Constabulary. When she wbb twenty-six yenrs old she nnd her husband moved to Milton Miillmy, in county Clare. That was ninety years ago. In a littlo thatched cottage at Spanish Point, just outside Miltown Malby, Mrs. Arm strong lives, nil alone, waiting for the time when she shall be callod to join those who wore dear to her, who died yearB and years ago. The days that she has lived through have been fraught with the most won-. derful events of the world s history, but the particular period that impres sed its events most firmly upon Mrs, Armstrong's memory was that of the great Irish rebellion of 1798, whon she was a lass of 17. She tells still of how Irishmen were hanged or shot or im prisoned without trials and of the reign of terror which held for years. Mrs. Armstrong is still able to walk aud to care for herself and her little cottage by the aid which her kindly neighbors give her. She is thin and slightly deaf, but her eight is good and her memory clear. Her dress is simple, but a cap and apron of snowy whiteness are always parts of it. Her habits are also simple. At 4 or 5 o'olock each afternoon her dny is finished, and she locks her cottage door and retires for the night. Now York Sun. "Sweetest of the Sweet." Framed and hnng npin the Agricul tural Bauk of Paris, Ky., is a chock which was made payable to "Sweetest of the Sweet" and so indorsed. Presi dent MoClneof the bank tolls the story of the check as follows: "Qne of our depositors recently gave his wife a check for 810, the check being regularly filled out and duly signed, except that it was made payable to 'Sweetest of the Sweet.' When the lady presented the cheek for payment I innocently inquired: "'Who is this "Sweetest of the Sweet?'" "'Why, it's me,' she replied. "I told her to indorse the check, which she did and handed it back. " 'But, madam,' I said, 'you must indorse it just as drawn, to the "Sweet est of the Sweet."' "She snatched up the pen and wrote the words below the name and I paid the money." Chicago Chronicle. Turning Silver Into Gold. It appears that there is little doubt as to the ability of Dr. Emmens to t ran form silver into gold by means ol a meohanioal treatment. A London paper says that Dr. Emraens's results have been verified by well-known Eng lish chemists, and about three weeks ago M. Tiffereau, the famous Frenoh chemist, endorsed the conclusion. Dr. Emmens is now preparing a maohine for subjecting silver to a pressure ol 8000 tous per square inch, and hopes to produce 60,000 ouuoes of gold per month. He is also experimenting as to the transmutation of other metals into one auother. A famous Coin Collection. Franoe has bought the late M. Wad dington's oolleotiou of Greek coins foi 421,000 francs. It contains seventy three gold, 1800 silver and 6635 bronze pieces. Among them are coins of U'Jfc towns of Asia Minor. THE REALM aetftOfttet The striking nnd stylish gown shown in the illustration, writes May Manton, is made of soft wool material, the de sign of which innludes green, a bright shade of tan and lines of black. The square yoke is of tan-colored silk and the trimming consists of fine black mo hair braid and ornamental buttons. The blouse bodi.'e is made over a fitted liuing which includes the usual pieces and seams, but shows single darts in place of double, and which closes at the centre-front. The blouse is fitted by shoulder and nnder-arm seams only. The yoke portion is faced onto the plnid at the line of perforations, the joining being concealed by the trim ming. The closing is effected invisibly at the left shoulder and down the left lide beneath the widest band of braid. The narrower bands and the fancy trip are sewed to the left section of the blouse, so cont Inning the trim ming in harmony with the yoke edges ind epaulettes. The sleeves are two learned aud snug-lltting close to the ihoulder where they are finished by the small pufTs that are a marked fea ture of the season. The oblong epau lettes give breadth to the figure nnd dd to the general stylish effect. The Deck is finished by a straight, stand ing collar above which rises a frill of lace. At the waist is worn a belt of tan-oolored ribbon clasped with an or namental buckle. The skirt is five-gored and fitted smoothly about the hips. The back Is arranged in deep underlying plaits. The trimming is carried down from the blouse iu a continuous line, so producing the princess effect. Cashmere, drap-d'ete, camel's-hair diid all the new poplin weaves as well LADIES' AND MISSES' OLQA. BLOUSE. as taffetas are eminently suitable. The trimming can be carried out in silk passementerie, in fancy braid, in jet or in velvet ribbon, all of which are in vogne. The yoke can be of contrast ing material, as shown, or one of jet or applique, such as are sold ready for use, can be applied. To make this blouse for a lady in the medium size will reqnire two and one-fourth yards of forty-four-inoh BTBIKINO AND STYLISH. OOWK. material, nnd for the skirt five and five-eighths yards ot same width good. Child's Coat of Dark lied Cloth; Up to the age ot three years the coats worn by boys and girls are muou alike. The model given, while shown OF FASHION. as a garment of feminine nse, is equally appropriate for boys who have not yet been allowed the dignity of tronsers. The material is dark red- cloth, the trimming bands of gray krlmmer. ncsntAN coat Fon a child. With the coat ore worn leggings and a Tarn hat of the cloth. The fitting is accomplished by shoulder seams and nnder-arm gores. The fronts are each cut in one piece, but the full skirt is seamed to the back at the waist line. The right-front laps well over the left and turns back to form a deep revet that reaches to tho waist. The closing is invisibly eflVioted by means of large hooks sewed to the centre of the right front aud eyes to the edge of the left. The sleeves are one-seamed and are finished with pointed cuffs banded with krimmer. At the neck is a straight standing collar and at th waist is worn a belt of the cloth edged with fur and fastened with a large steel bnckle. The coat is lined throughout with taffeta showing a bright plaid design. Ladies' nnd Misses' Clone. In the two-column design Bordeaux red faoed cloth is strikingly decorated with parallel rows of black braid that ooutrast strongly to the handsome edging and full revers of chinchilla fur. A belt of blaok velvet droops gracefully in front according to the prevailing mode. Hat of red felt, faced and bauded with black velvet garniture of red silk crepe, antumn leaves and black quills. This stun ning outdoor wrap, says May Manton, is one of the most desirable of the season's novelties, combining style with comfort and giving a distinguished air to the wearer. A unique feature is the extended shoulders which form epaulettes over the ooat sleeves that show a slight fulness at the arm's-eye. The entire ooat is lined with plaid taffeta. The blouse proper is fitted with shoulder and uuder-arm seams and the basque portion is out sepa rately and seamed to the blouse be neath the belt. The sleeves are snug fitting aud are seamed to the lining only at the upper portion beneath the epaulette and both cloth aud liuing at the nnder-arm portion. To insure additional strength a strip of cloth is stitobed to the liuing round the npper portion of the arm's eye where the sleeve joins it alone. The right front ot the blouse laps over on to the left and closes invisibly. Bevers of fur are turned back from the throat and the neok ia Buished with standing collar. . TRANSPARENT THEATRE HAT, It's Bis;, Mailt, Reantlrnl and Becoming-, nnd Is Cilass, to Ba Been Through. Hereafter the theatre hat need have no terrors forns. We will look through it. One of New York's most enter prising milliners has invented for the winter theatrical trade a glass hat. Ib is asgorgeons, with its nodding plumes and wonderful array of trimmings, as the largest and most striking theatre lint that ever obstructed a first nighter's view, but there is this dif ference the new hat obstructs no one's view. Yon look through it ns clearly as yon would look through a plate-glass window. The new glass theatre hat is almost as light as a feather. It will not break if yon drop it, and it is qnite as fashionable as to its style as any theatre hat made of felt or velvet. The hat is made of a very thin preparation of pliable glass, which has been pre pared with certain chemicals to prevent it from breaking. Its main ingredient is silicate of soda. The glass is per fectly transparent, and makes a most effective foundation for trimmings. The glass can be bought by the yard NEW Ot.ASS THEATER HAT, FRONT V1KW. if one is fortunate enough to know where it is manufactured. It is so pliable that it can be easily plaited or ru filed, and nnder tho deft hands of a milliner can be made into very fasci nating transparent bows. As pompons and fancy wings it will also be used. Bnt its chief use will be for the founda tion ot the big theatre bat, for its flaring brim and high crown, so that no matter what the hat's size it can bo easily seen through. One of the most effective of the new theatre hats is a rather expensive creation iu glass and chiffon. The flaring glass brim is cut into a series of tabs, each tab softened by a shirred edge of clolicate pink chiffon. Tho glass bell-shnped crown of the hat is is also finished with a shirring ot chif fon, nnd it is admirable for the person behind it to get a view of the stage. Beautiful pink feathers are used for the humming. There are fonr of them, and they all have a downward droop. These feather's coil prettily over the hair at the back. They ful fill perfectly their object of being or namental and yet not in the way. Around the base of the crown a bit of filmy chiffon is coiled, which is caught in the centre with an antique silver and rhinestone buckle, and there you havo the new theatre hat complete. And to own this dainty glass creation yon must pay 825. But there are other glass hats now on sale for the atre wear which are less expensive, and some which are double this hat's value. They are all extremely novel, and yet they are not unpleasantly con spicuous, and as for being light and comfortable nothing to equal thein in the millinery line has ever been seen before. New York Journal. COWS WITH EARRINC5. Ilrsjlenlo Measure Ordered, by Belgium' Director-General of Agriculture. A cow is the last creature one would expect to see with earrings, yet every cow in Belgium has got to wear them now. The Director-General of Agri culture has issued a regulation that all animals of the bovine species are to FOB HVOIESB, NOT FOR VANITY. wear earrings as soon as they have j tamed the age of three mouths. This is a hygienio measure, intended to prevent the introduction iofo Bel gium of animals suffering froi tuber culosis. Breeders are to be oUied to keep an exact account of ftJKauimals raised by them, and the crug (on which is en graved a nuwbeJis fastened in the animal's, ear for the purpose of pre venting or helping to prevent the' substitution ot one animal for an other. Photography nnd Shooting-. A miniature pbotograpbio camera attached to the barrel of a gun is the invention of Mr. Lerchuer, of Vienna. By an automatic shutter, working in unison with the trigger of the gun, the sportsman is able to obtain a per fect photograph of the bird or animal immediately before tho shot or bullet has reached it. Tuberculosis is in England and Wales the cause ot 14 per cent ot all UI and iaj of all female deaths.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers