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.