the nrns o' cor.nox's men. Bow m"i it la.l with the bnnnie hair, (Ami Hit l.ilicl ilaiil that the uill-ciaus -sir,; 'Anil rmi li-ir the Mot'iei Kay, Wktnr lia' ye bin, lry Liulilie, xvhear ha' te liin Hi' day ?" !"Oh?l fcn" liin i' (inrtliin'n men; fthnmi 3e hear the hait-pipr play? And i (nHoui'1 the Huldieis across the n th' road (.1 Aberdeen. lAmA 4im I'm 11 man, my Mother, 14h greti'idiers parade, ,il kr maivlnii' there, wi' my Father's '!AaA 111 wear th' rej cot-ltaje." ftntnUi the Soudan's sky ye ken the TWlke, 'Am Unr rlim reply when the tribesmen JP Uip charge roars by! Vjfce rfiilli-we;it cIiiikh to the kilted form li.it the htreteher brings, 'Ami tlie irmvnerved surgeons nay, "Whmta hV ye bin, my Laddie, whear ha' fun th' day?" da' bin wi' iinrdon's mm: P9wnui je heir t'i' ban pipes play? Uad t piped the china from the rirer- kaijje 'Jknw the oani's and thrnueji the charge. -And 4-sltiiU'd the pibroih keen and BM tli' pip bin broke and my lips k -dry." t. AniU Ola'gow, in McClure'a Maga- WE TUMULT OF PASSION. C7 OIItlSTINE V. PENNEY. ' Brentwood stood in a narrow door Smjr and gazed across at a closed prinifaw. Tho old, wild passion cap Qtvated lit 111. His fingers twitched BrarrtKisty. His eyes burned through the tfcht, evening ntlst, and strained Smmrdl the building opposite. d. what a fool! What a fool! JW teep away." He pulled a roll 4S Mia from his fur lined topcoat, S q tick ly ran them through. "Bah! Owlr f500. The very last, too. It's art drop In the bucket." He start Ma. it eome upon something un wjicrtedly. From an Inner pocket he dtvm 1 large wallet. Carefully, he onmnitd note after note. "Five thnu atiA' I II do it! I'll risk it. I've jro o win the tide's bound to turn. 8 cmi pay It back." Hnroosciously. v Brentwood spoke aoml. An Italian .fiqwer vendor. In f tftey alongside,. Jjstened aurious-'W- Brentwood Started across the sUTrt " ; ' - "f'tinrers, sir? Nice, 'fresh roses, ar? . w.,; . 'Vi." snapped. Brentwood. The Chrt fcrl.l up the. fragrant blossoms pitmtiiisly. "Here, though, I guess TH let you take some up to the Souse for my daughter 126 West I street; Brentwood's the name; lit Madge Brentwood, understand?" "Madge Brentwood?" The Italian "Correct, my boy." Brentwood awinHenfly thrust a bill into the fel Omr'm Jfiand, flung past him and en the great gambling house of the Wflnin all was brilliant. Lutnri imweanifort fawned upon you. Piles WIKMi piles of red, blue and white 5tlMfj?ea clicked in your ears. Win r their rattle lured you on, and MKwirr Stacks of greenbacks gloat- tMSfnd the bars of a cashier's Mse. The sight of them made your mrrt IVritge, your cheeks feverish, and 3r hrnln throb! The call of the mnls' Harvey Brentwood knew well au Irresistible fascination! Tftrw men lolled at a table near Hit fixr. One f them motioned to Brent- ,-WWf. "ffay?" he askedr "Horn . many?" inquired Brent nwvl. l'onr-handcd." TAinFt?" "No lira ft, sir." Herntwood sat in, The gams was n? Tot after pot rolled away from . Seal after seal snapped on new of cards. Brentwood held cwJ Rands, antled and raised, but at pbc e?AZ. (he other fellow always had rtJer. His cash was petering out. flTtermn? That was long since gone. wsk the balance of the $5000. Heavens! He must win this torn- "M wilt cost you fifty to draw owdW." said the dealer. Two of the Borers threw In their hands. Til stick," said Brentwood, care JWaJy. He drew one card. He no rf that his opponent did likewise. Ttt bet you $500," cried the man. "There's your $500, and $300 bet 9rr." muttered Brentwood. He had UAwJ his last dollar! Wefl, Ml call you." "T pair." Brentwood's voice Bedl harsh. "Aces high nces wt tings." He held out his hand. "Two pair here. Jacks up and 3acfcs rfown," sneered the man oppo Be?. "J'onr of a kind, If you prefer." Tlie' eards trickled from Brent worr fingers. He crumbled like a temtSer. bfighted plant. With a piti M proan he shoved the chips from ainr. Tbey clattered across the board, tmt tfte wfnner drew them In. Srail R ree arranged them In neat rows clior him. Brentwood's bleared rat irtared at them. They seemed to fcrrtcti nnendingly, and they all wmit dollars thousands of them! WiLlr a gasp, he fell back. ,Trj another hand, Brentwood?" tea, all In, gentlemen. I'll have ray good night." He staggered to feet. TTI lack you." A quiet voice poke from the doorway. Brentwood wfcwted about and scrutinized the pester. It was a young man, teeareeiy more than a boy, he seemed, yrste collar of his ulster muffled up to ears, and a soft hat, the brim Tatlod down in front, still lay upon Is Iiead. It was no unusual thing w loser here to find some willing bampion . to back him. But this a mere boy! Brentwood consid mvl hesitated. Then the thought of his loss hi3 rImo beat about him. "All right, sir. Come In, won't yon? I'm losing heavily. You're sure you want to chance It?" The man nodded. "Come in, and hang up your coat. Bo comfortable." "I'm comfortable, thank you. "I'll look on from here. Win we'll split. Lose I'll stand It." . Brentwood looked sharply at the lad. Ho had spoken so listlessly, In a wornout way. Men who talked so seldom came hero. But he turned to the table, to the fight that meant honor everything to him. The first time round the pot waa his. Then ho won again again and again! The other players were bidding cautiously. "Brentwood, the kid sure's brought you luck," said one. Brentwood didn't answer. He was dealing. He looked closely at his cards. Folded them up. Ran his fin ger quickly down the stacks of chips in front of him, roughly estimating about JSO0O and then said: "How many?" "Two." "The same hero." "One." Brentwood held a pat hand. The three glanced at one another. "I'll bid $200," said the man on his left, slowly. The others came up. "Two hundred," called Brentwood, "and $S00 better. An even $1000, gentlemen." Ordinarily, some one of them would have tried It out. But Brent wood had had a straight run of luck, and their cards went down. Brent wood quietly gathered up his win nings. The pat hand had done It! He had bluffed it out. But if they had called him be bad held only nine high! "That's all, I'm satisfied." He Jumped up. He felt buoyant, Tho whole ugly affair seemed far behind and insignificant. His man hood fought for recreation for vic tory over his tumultuous passion! In the elation of his success he had forgotten his champion. He turned now to the doorway. It was empty! Excitedly he searched the large room, but there was no trace of the stran ger. He left the building hurriedly, and stood on the curb outside gazing about him. Somebody gently touched Ms shoulder. He turned and looked into tho face of the youth who had assisted him to retrieve his honor. "Father!" Harvey Brentwood gasped. The lad pulled off his hat. "Father, it's Madge! Oh, father, how could you?" The man was speechless. He looked wan and old in the dull glare of the street lamp. "It was Dominic," the girl went on, "who told me when he brought the roses. He heard you talking to yourself In the doorway. He knew j-ou wero going to use that money. I helped him when he was sick in the hospital, and he told me that I might save you. But I was too late the money was gone gone!" Some thing choked In the girl's throat. Wide-eyed she gazed In unutterable agony upon her father. I I pledged my jewels to back you." The man never spoke a word. The mirage that ha deluded him all these years faded before htm. He felt strangely quiet. Silently, he reached out his hand and found hers, and in the silence they wnlked, hnnd in hand, the broad avenue that led to home. Boston Post. "Mend It or End It." Lord Morley first used this phrase In connection with the House of Lords in a famous speech in St. James' Hall in July, 1S84. We learn from the Manchester Guardian that he used it again last Friday night at the opening of the University Union Buildings, when, referring to tho discussions at Oxford in his un dergraduate days, he spoke of their debates about "the mending or the ending of great Institutions." ' The first literary use of the phrase, our contemporary points out, seems to be in a passage in Scott's novel, "The Monastery," In which Halber.t Glen dinning exclaims: "My fate sends mo elsewhere to scenes where I shall end It or mend it." A year or two later Byron used it in "Don Juan:" "This Is the way physicians mend or ei,d us." Westminster Cazctte. A Weight Lifted. The American heiress fell sobbing at the feet of the foreign nobleman. A dread fear obsessed her. Was it possible that she she No! It was absurd. Her better sense assured her of that. Still, she could not stifle this great fear, a fear that all was not as it should be. But she knew him so well. Surely it could not be No, it was preposterous! He was of noble blood. But to ease her mind, even at the sacrifice of her self-esteem, she would ask him. "Tell me," she wailed, "do you love me for my wealth alone?" "I swear it," he cried. A glad light shone in her eyes, aad a great weight seemed lifted from her soul, for she was a girl who had a great horror of doing anything un conventional. New York Times. Trout Stream in Hotel. . There is a large hotel in Colorado which has a notable feature of inter est in the fact that a trout stream runs right through its dining room. A guest is allowed take rod and line and angle for the fish, which when caught Is cooked and served to him at the next meal, and it is quite a regular custom fif,' a guest to catch trout for his own breakfast. Need less to say the stream is kept well stocked with Dub. and is a great at traction to the guests. Denver Post, THE "LEAV1TT" SHOTGUN. All is fair In love, war, or collect ing. A writer in Army and Navy Life tells how he finally got possession of the coveted "Leavltt shotgun" a weapon with a romantic history. It Is supposed to have been left in Port land, Me., by an English lord, who came to this country to find a family black sheep, in the shape of a young er brother. The gun had four bar rels, so arranged that the lower pair could be revolved into position as soon as the upper pair had been fired. The write!1 had come upon a farmer who offered to show him his collec tion, never suspecting that his guest was a connoisseur. I recognized the Leavltt gun the moment it came through the door way. My heart Jumped so I won dered that he didn't ask whnt was the matter with me, I didn't touch that gun for a long time. I handled most of the others and priced some of them. Finally I ventured: "That is a curious looking gun. Where did you get it?" "That? Why, lemme see. I bought that off'n Tim Brown Just be fore he died. Thought I could make a dollar or two, maybe, on account of Its havin' four shots Instead of two. But I paid putty high for It, and so couldn't sell it cheap; an' then it's so tarnal heavy weighs thirteen pounds the boys wouldn't buy It. I was disgusted with myself, so I Jest wrapped it up and laid It away in a meal chest, and It's been there ever Since." I looked It. over critically, balanced It, hefted It and aimed it nt the spot where I came out of the .woods. "What do you want for this gun?" I asked, indifferently, laying it across my knees. He hesitated some time, apparently debating with himself whether Judg ing from my appearance I would stand a good charge. "Wal, I tell ye," he finally said, "how will a dollar a barrel suit ye?" "Fine," said I, passing him two two dollar bills. "Can't I sell ye another, or mebbe two or three, for a spec?" he asked.' "I'll Just stand this one inside the door, as one bought already," said I. suiting the action to the word, "and we will look the others over again." About then a newcomer arrived. "Just whnt I came to see," said he, smiling, and Indicating the heap of guns. "I heard of your guns in Noc kit, and I came right over to see them. I live in New York, and I col lect firearms for a hobby, especially during vacation." "Firearms are my hobby, ton," I said. "I have about 400, antique and curious ones together." Isaiah Day's expression was some thing to see. The stranger and I looked over the pile of gnns together, but they were cheap percussion and breech loading shotguns, altered flint muskets and worn out rifles. There was nothing there that we .wanted. Day didn't urge v.s to buy any, but chewed a straw, and had a faraway look in his eyes. The stranger and T rose to go. I reached within the door and swung the gun out on to my shoulder. The stranger straightened ns it he were stung. His eyes opened wide and his mouth opened, too. "Did you get that here?" "Just ns you came out of the woods," I said. "Is it the Leavltt gun?" "It really la," I answered. We started along together. Day came, too. "What did yon say your name is?" he asked me. "Sawyer." "I don't seem to remember any Sawyer in Noekit." "Probably not. I don't live there I spend my summers there my tome Is in Boston." "O-ho." said he, "you're a city man! What do you want of that gun?" "Just to look at," I answered gen ially. "I don't believe it. There's some mystery about it. I believe I'd ovter asked you more for it; if I'd been bright I bet you'd paid another dollar a barrel for it." "Maybe I would," said I, "but It Is too late now." "BAY O' FUNDY DAYS." The newspapers lately reported the finding of a rare pearl in the South Seas. The pioneer of the Pa pelte pearl fisheries, the "Pearl King of Tahiti," who la about to retire from the business out of which he has amassed a large fortune in the last twenty years, on one of his last visits to Paris brought a magnificent pearl valued at $&000. A dealer in gems made an offer of $50,000 for a mate to it. The "pearl king" has Just returned from Tahiti, bringing with him, it is said, the desired Jewel. This Is pearl fishing on a large scale. Much more modest, yet no less Inter esting, was the amateur fishery carT rled on by Mr. Louis Becke when he was a boy, and recorded In his "Notes From My Sea Log." When we were boys in Australia we had holidays which we called "Bay o' Fundy Ea;a." The light house keeper was a native of Nova Scottn, and he used to tell us ol the wonderful tlde3 of Fundy, Whenever our tides wore particu larly low, and a reef two miles away showed high and dry, we boys had a "Bay o' Fundy Day," and explored tho coast. We used to go out on the reef to gather certain shells, In which we found pearls. An old curio denier would give us from five to ten shillings each for the larger ones, and for the seed pearls he pnld a pound or two an ounce. This gave us a sum sufficient for pocket money, but one day we learned how to increase our small fortune. Ah Yam, a Chinaman, lived with a fellow fisherman In a hut near our place. One day he broke his leg, and our mother was very good to him through a long and tedious recovery. His gratitude was unbounded. One Sunday afternoon Ah Yam ap peared and asked to speak to our mother and father In private. They were closeted for some time, and then mother called us In. She said: "Boys, you will be sorry to know that Ah and his mate are going back to China, and yon will see them no more. Ah has brought me a very beautiful present." "No, missee, no," Interrupted Ah, "not welly beautiful. Just show you I like you welly much and I welly solly to say good-bye." Mother showed us her hand. In which lay nine really valuable pearls,' the size of a pea. "These are from the same kind of shells which you have gathered," she continued, "and Ah Yam is going to tell you a secret which will be of great value to you boys. You will be able to make a nice sum of money on 'Bay o' Fundy Days.' " Ah then told us where to look for the best shells, and that we should pick out those which were the most aged and deformed and covered with coral growth. He said that he and Gee Foy had receive 270 for pearls In tho three years he had lived near us. After that Bay o" Fundy Days were always profitable. We ran great risks In diving under the reefs and prying off the great shells with blunt chisels. We usually came to the surface with cut and bleeding hands and heads, but we took little heed of such minor matters. TO JOIN THE TEXAN'S. In 1842 or '43 the Texas war of Independence was at Its height. In the West there was great sympathy with the Texans. Lew Wallace, In his "Autobiography," tells of a boy ish enterprise connected with this war which, fortunntely for him, was not successful. He said one morning to his deskmate, "Let's go and join Commodore Moore." Commodore Moore was nt that time at the head of the navy of tho Infant republic of Texas. "I'll do it," he returned. "He'll make us midshipmen," I ar gued. We got a skiff, laid in a supply of provisions and cn armament consist ing of a rifle and shot gun and big butcher knives strapped sailor fash ion to our manly hips. A few days prior a fiatboat had sailed from the port of Indianapolis bound for New Orleans, To overtake it was our first point. The day of departure arrived. We went to our boat separately. What was our astonishment to find the whole male body of the seminary on the bank above the landing. They cheered us, and wo Jumped In, un shipped our oars, waved our lints in farewell, nnd shot heroically Into the friendly current. In wise forethought of supper In some lonesome Jungle of the river at night, my comrade landed on an isl and to kill a goose with a stick. We flung the bird aboard, thinking it dead; but Just as we swung by a field lively with harvesters the goose re vived, and uttered a "honk!" loud and long. The harvesters heard the outcry, grasped the situation, and un mooring a canoe, set out In pursuit. They were swift; so were we. For miles they kept up the chase, then fortunately ceased following us. Below Indianapolis ten miles are the Bluffs, noteworthy because of a dam across the river, to supply the canal finished to that point. The fall over the dam was too high for shoot ing, making it necessary to land in the canal for portage. My companion stayed with the boat, while I went ashore for some kindling. He saw two men whom he recognized as my mother's father and a constable. My grandfather was a wise man. With out a lecture, or so much as a refer ence to my elopement, ho landed me In Indianapolis that night. EXTRAORDINARY FEAT. A girl seventeen years old has ac complished the extraordinary feat of ascending a church spire 260 feet high, in the teeth of a gale of wind. A steeplejack had undertaken to as cend the spire of All Saints'. Here ford, the highest In the West of Eng land, when Miss Elsie Heins, the daughter of one of the church war dens, voluntered to accompany him. The ascent wns made by means of a steeplejack's cradle. In spite of the force of the wind and the Bwaying of the cradle, the girl, says the steeple Jack, was remarkably cool all through the perilous ascent and descent. The ascent was made on market day, and a great crowd watched in thrilling suspense every movement of the sw;aylng cradle. Traffic was entirely blocked by the crowd until the girl had gained the summit and descend ed unharmed. The Pennsylvania Legislature has Increased the salarlos of common pleas Judges from $8500 to $11,000 a year. Lincoln's Intellect By George L. Knapp F we put aside the popular preconceptions of Lincoln, and look Instead at the recorded facts, we shall find evidence ot his remarkable Intellect at every stage of his adult career. In his youth, indeed, he had the misty vagaries proper to youth and like eo many great men, he came to maturity late. But from the time that he entered seriously on his life I work, his mental powers were held In high, almost reverent regard by all who were close to him. In one sense, he was not a great lawyer. He lacked the broad education, to begin with; and he lacked even more the soldler-of-fortune conscience that enables a man to fight on one side as well as on another, In a bad cause as well as In a good one. Lincoln's intellect was too keen, too cold, too accurate, to toler ate quibbles or evasions; he hated crooked reasoning quite as virulently as crooked dealing. But when he believed In his case, he could state that case In a way which made argument almost needless; and he had that sure and certain mark of genius, the ability to brush aside non-essentials and Belze at once on the central, vital Issue. And yet In the struggles of politics, the work which he really loved, the same qualities show out in yet higher relief. Seldom If ever was there a more consummate politician than Abraham Lincoln. The aim of his early political life was to save the Union. If Lincoln ever made a wrong move to gain his goal, history has failed to record it. When he put his famous ques. tion to Douglas, as to the possibility of excluding, slavery from the territories, his friends thought he had thrown away his own future and that of his party. Lincoln knew better. He wns trying, not to keep Douglas from the Senate, but to keep him from the White House. He could see already that the crisK of the struggle would come, not In 1858, but in 1800. He offered the gambit, and Douglas accepted it to find himself checkmated two moves later. Llp-plncott's. M j Jl Man In a Hurry Ey IV. MAN was In a hurry. He acted like It. Ho squeezed and pushed and shoved through the crowded side of the street as If Rnninthine- nf tho irrrntpst. ttnnortanpo rlenenrlprl unon Jf 1 his haste. It never I more progress on the V S I so crowded, or that parallel street. Now and then he or "I beg your pardon!" but he was not heard to make such a remark when he roughly brushed against some child. He was said to be very polite, but. his politeness seemed to be toward some certain few, not to ward everybody. But he was In a hurry, and of course he thought his haste excused a multitude of his sins of omission. He thought the old colored woman, whom he pushed to one Bide, had no business on the street when people were in a hurry when he was In a hurry. He did not know that this old colored woman was making as much haste as she possibly could, to summon a doctor to attend her sick mistress. Of course, if he had known this, he would not have acted bo selfishly. Indeed, it is doubtful it he saw tho little girl whom he almost knocked down. If he had, he certainly would have begged her pardon. To be sure, he did not know that she was a cash girl In one of the department stores and that she was so tired that she could hardly stand upon her feet. The blind beggar who stopped him and begged a penny got only a rebuke, because he was iu a hurry. "Haven't got time!" he gruffly said to the poor fellow. When he finally reached home, he even forgot to greet his wife with his customary kiss; he was in a hurry. And why was he In such a hurry? He had an engagement to attend the theatre that evening with several friends. It is a good thing that everybody is not in a hurry. MUM . . Why Woman Lies . . . 7 I y Marcel Prevost in Paris Figaro XCEPT when In love, man is much less given to lying than his long-haired companion. Thore is good reason for this. Primeval man, who controlled woman by the right ot the conqueror, or, nt least, the stronger, had no need for tv-tnir tn mnlrn Ufa aa nlnncmnf. fnr htmnnlf Da ht flfl.nr flf E H I Woman, on the other hand, was a slave, using her in. II telligence in slave fashion that is, as a rank egoist. Her prime object In life was to please her lord, to work as little as possible, to avoid punishment, to fool her master and to conceal from him everything that might possibly result in annoyance to her self. So the wife-slave of old developed Into a most accomplished liar. It would be foolish to deny that woman's status has changed since then, at least among civilized peoples. But there are still many laws on the statute books compelling women to use deception and lying in self-defense. If 'man did not use his physical and legal musclos against woman, woman would be more honest. - She might even in time forget how to lie. Most of the lies women tell ought to be credited in the Book of Judgment to man's account. 1 It goes without saying that long-continued experience 1. e., the heredity of lying, so to speak has made woman an expert prevaricator. Man Is a robust liar only. Listen to the man liar's statements in any court of Justice. For the most part they are ridiculous, utterly absurd. And worse still, when a man liar is found out as he must be found out he utterly goes to pieces. Of course, men encourage woman's lying. The man who is caught In a lie loses caste, is kicked out of his club, while few, if any, men find serious fault with woman's fibs. M A Little By Jtndreiv MAN has to give an account of every word he speaks. Ev ery boy weaves a web. No false thread can be eradicated, not one, because the web moves on. Every act you do leaves its imprint on your character, which Is your web. You would be better men If you made no false threads in your web. .There Is a Judge, not on high, nor below, but In your own self your conscience. You can't deceive the Juage within you. You can't cheat yourself. No fooling that A court. When you lay yourself down at night and say to that Judge, "Today I have been kind to all and have done nothing wrong," and that Judge is satis fied, then you have no Judgo to fear above or below, or on this earth. That's my sermon today. I'll be thankful if one day some of you men re call me and say, "I one day heard Mr. Carnegio deliver a sermon that was worth a hundred s-ermons I heard elsewhere." If you don't live this world well, I wouldn't glv three cents for your chances In the next." Remarkable f M m T. Childs occurred to him that he could make other side of the street, which was not he would be less impeded on another would be heard to say "Excuse me!" Sermon S t Carnegie J s A.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers