[Copyright, 18M, by the Author.] I have hinted to you that I believed if ever the Old Beau told me his own story it would be the story of stories. There was something about the man, through all uiy acquaintance with him, which had impressed me with the feel ing that his whole life had been one long tragedy. Yet, there was no more gonial, companionable man in all the club, lie was replete with anec dote, with gentle humor, with the quality that is known as "the milk of human kindness," as 3-011 may have gathered from some of these tales that i have told you. Yet, there was a cer tain grave under-current in the man that had often caused me to wonder at its reason. While I desired his story, with all the keen avidity that a news paper man *l. capable of, I had firmly muiic up 1113* mind that 1 would never suggest this desire to him- for I was confident the tale would come of his own accord some duy. And it did. In the lighted street in front of the club, I was approached one night 1)3- a miserable vagrant who asked me for alms.* Not from charit3% but because it was the easiest \vll3*, 1 put my hand in my pocket and gave him a coin. As I handed it to him, the Old Beau came down .the steps, lie paused as though turned to stone when he saw the beg gar, and grew all white, like one who is suddenly struck with death. And the beggar, seeing him, stayed the hand that had been stretched forth for the coin, and leered at him and called him jeeringly by name. I stood look ing from one to the other, knowing that 1 was witnessing the culminating scene of a great drama, 3 r et powerless to comprehend its meaning. After a pause that was, doubtless, not more than a moment, but that had spun out infinitely in my imagination, my triend came down the steps slowly, and placed his hand on my shoulder. His vo'ce was quiet, but vibrated with a strange, deep tremor as he spoke to me* "I)o me this favor," lie said; "go with this man, find him shelter and food, and whatever else he 111:13- need. Do for him all that he asks, for I owe him a great debt. I will wait for you here." He turned, and went slowly up the steps again, while I gave 1113- attention to the fellow before 1110. Ido not need to tell you much of him. He seemed the worst of his class. Dressed in rags, fil thy and palsied with drink, lie was loathsome in the extreme. lie mumbled now, in a maudlin way. and staggered from sheer weakness. I soon saw that his mind was half gone, and that he was ill and miserable. Want had done almost its worst up -:i him. He easily submitted to being led, and 1 took him, first, to a place where he was bathed, and cleanly dressed, and fed. Then, I saw more clearty how little strength was in him, and so we went forthwith to a hospital, and 1 procured a bed for him there. After the physician had examined him, he told me that the spark of life hung only by a thread. It might be a mat ter of a few hours; at the most, but a , few days, before the end would come. It was far past midnight when I left him, ami returned to the club. The Old Beau was alone in an upper room. A dim light burned on the ta ble, a low fire in the grate. The usual accessories, tobacco and liquors, were notable for their absence. lie looked up when I entered, and J Saw that lie was still very white. I thought 1 could detect the signs of a AND GAVE HIM A COIN, severe mental struggle—a struggle for self-control. A sad smile flitted about his gentle mouth—a sad smile, 3'et one that worf not utterly without joy. He mentioned me to a chair near the grate, and I sat down and waited for him to speak. This he did after a time, looking dreamily into the fire the while. "It is a memory frgm the past," lie said; "more —a ghost from the grave. That man—that poor wreck and clligy of a man—was the friend of my early days. Wc loved the same woman, quarreled for her, and fought. It was in the south, and in the time when hot blood carried men to the dueling ground. Wc fought beneath the arched live-oaks in the Old Parish road below the city where so many of the foolish youths of New Orleans have met. I ran him through with Hl3' sword, and left him for dead upon the field. I was forced to i\y, with my seconds. The pli3*sician was a stranger to me, a friend of his. Ho sent me a paper later, marked with an account of the duel, ami the death of my opponent I went abroad. Before leaving I tried to see her —the woman we had fought for. I know that she loved me. and not him." He paused and was silent so long that I thought he lia<l forgotten inc. 1 made a little movomnt to attract his attention. He looked up at me and smiled again. "I have been back in the long ago," he said. "There are pleasant memo ries there, as well as sad ones. It is much to know that you were once loved by a pure woman. I knew that, for she told me so in a little note that I have always kept. Nothing can take that knowledge from inc. But she said that she could never marry a man who had the blood of another on his hands and on his soul." Again he paused and seemed to dream, and I respected and did not break the silence. "I have seen her many times since," he began again, presently, "as one sees the stars away off in the unreachable heavens. But never to touch her hand —her garments, even; not even to speak with her, except as we have met and passed in the street. She has never married, and I know that she has grown old, still loving xne, as I have grown old, loving her." After this he asked me to tell him what I had done, and I did this as briefly as I could. "You say he has not long to live? Will you come with me?" He started up eagerly, drawing on his coat. We went out together and I led the way to the hospital, where I had left the other. The touch of human sympathy that we hud given him had mellowed the poor outcast, and silenced his jeers. The meeting between the two men was affecting. The long years seemed blotted out, and their hands clasped, as they ha I done in their youth. The stranger had grown weaker since I left him. "I am dying, Willis," he said broken ly; "it may be but a matter of a few hours. 1 have wronged you, and 1 want your forgiveness. I know what I have made your life. I have been wretched, and weak, and miserable as any dog that walks the earth. But I accept it all as the just reward for what I did. I provoked you beyond Atld llligl "TKI.I. HIM THAT I WAIT FOB IIIS COM- I NO." human endurance, compelled you to tight, because 1 hoped to kill 3-011. When 1 fell, it would have been out right if I had died. But I lived, saved through the exertions of 1113' ph3*sician, and then together we made up that lie, and sent it to you. I knew what that would do. Then, when I was well again, I drink and gambled until poverty and the devil claimed 111 c wholly; until I became the ruin 3-011 now see. I did not think ever to cross your path again, but I am glad that it has happened so. I can die easier for having said this." The Old Beau put his arms about the dying man, ami his face down close beside him, and I heard him whisper: "My dear Edgar, let the dead past bury its dead." We remained with him through the rest of that night, and through the fol lowing du3',and through the next night. He grew gradually weaker, and his life went out just as the sun of a new dn v \- had risen. When it was all over, we went back to the club and there un friend wrote a brief note. "Willyou take it to this address," he asked me; "but wait," he added; "3-011 should have the right to read this." He unfolded the paper and laid it before me, and I looked and saw these words: "The hand of God has turned back the leaves of the book of the past. 1 have just come from the deathbed of Edgar Freeman. We were friends again, at the last; and iny hands and my soul are free from his blood. May I come to you?" When I had read this I saw already the dawning of a new and glorious day for the Old Beau, as I trust 0110 had already dawned for the poor out cast. I went with a light heart, with speeding feet. I had thought to find an old woman —a woman grown old before her time. But I found her in the sweet and full maturity of womanhood. I will not tr3' and tell you of her. She was worthy to have been served for seven times the seven years that Jacob served for Rachael. 1 was her slave from the moment that I saw her. I could have fallen down at her feet and worshiped her when she said to me: "He must love you, or he would not have trusted you with this message. Tell him that I wait for his coming." Shall 1 tell you the rest? No, I think I will not. But Ima 3' fwy to you that I think iny friend has found the Fountain of Youth; for his step is lighter, his 03-0 brighter, his smile more joyful, his voice merrier and his heart more full of the milk of human kindness even than it was before. Yet his gain is my loss, for there are 110 more cozy hours in the ©lub alcove, and no more stories of the Old Beau. —She—"And so 3'oti have been to Washington and actually stepped upon the sacred floor of the house of repre sentatives? Were you not fired with enthusiasm?" He—"No; by the door keeper."—Boston Transcript. TWO CLEVER POODLES. Jn - S:iok?tl a I'lp\ th Other u Boot-ltlac Stand. Like all representative dog.-. of dif ferent countries, the French poodle possesses some of the characteristics of his nation. Vivacity t;n.l quid: intelli gence arc the dog': p. anincnt traits. The brightest poodles I have ever known, says Stuart Travis, were all profceg es of shopkeepers, old soldiers and the bourgeois in general. I used to see very often a veteran of the Fi jncli wars. This old soldier had a pooc le who was his pipe bearer. It w is a funny sight to see the dog walki] /; gravely upright on his hind legs, and taking quick little steps to keep up with the martial stride of the Vetera .1. Every now and then the man would take a very black meerschaum pipe ! from his lips and give it to the dog, I HE WOULD PUFF AWAY WITII BELISII. who would take it between his teeth, brace himself and puff away with evi dent relish—keeping the pipe lit until it suited his master's pleasure to smoke again himself. The weight of the pipe obliged the dog to lean very far back to keep his balance. Holding this absurd attitude in itself was no easy feat, hut far more difficult was his maintaining the erect position on his hind legs so long. It did not seem to tire him, however, for I watched him several times until out of sight, and never saw him get down on his forelegs at all, like other and less accomplished dogs. Indoetl. he seemed to enjoy it and to fully re alize the dignity of his official position as pipe bearer. There was, a few years ago, a boot black who had a stand on the boule vard des Italiennes. This artist owned a large poodle, who, for professional reasons, never had his hair cut like most of his dog brothers. This remarkable dog would sit by the stand in clear weather when business was dull, his bright eyes watching crit ically the shoes of the passers-by. If the dog saw a particularly flue shine on some dandy's boots le? would dash out, and, before the astonished pedestrian knew what lie was about, would ruin the polish with a few quick lappings of his large, moist tongue. Then in half apologetic and persua sive manner he would try to drag by the coat-tails his victim towards his master's stand, so as to have lib; boots shincd over again. He never failed also to bark, to call his master's attention to the approach ing customer. This dog really conducted the whole business. Curiously, if the weather was bad and the streets wet, nnd there were consequently shoes in plenty to shine, he would not resort to these ex treme measures.-—Hoston Globe. A LONG FAREWELL. Why Private Dohorty Dude III* Hcrfjoant Good-It j'. It is said to Ikj an old story, this of a man named Doherty, who was drilling with his squad of recruits in London. | Doherty was nearly six feet two in j height, and at that time the sergeant- ! major was a man whose? height was only five feet four. On this day he ap proached the squad looking sharply about him for some fault to find. All the men squared up except Doherty, and the sergeant-major at once accosted him. "Head up there, man!" called he, Doherty raised his head slightly. "Up higher, sir!" The head was raised again. Then "good-bv, seughant." the sergeant managed, by standing 011 his toes, to reach Doherty's chin, and he poked it higher, with the remark: "That's better. Don't li t, me see your head down again!" l!y this time everybody was interest ed at seeing Dohorty staring away above the sergeant-major's head, when a voice from above said, in a rich brogue: "Am I to be always like this, ser geant-major?" "Yes, sir!" "Then I'll say good-by to ye, sergeant major, for I'll nivcr see yez again!" A Noted IJridjfo. Teacher—This poem refers to "The Bridge of Sighs." Do you know what bridge that is? Dull Boy—Guess there ain't anything can beat the Brooklyn bridge on size, i —Good News. A Personal Allusion. "T believe I'll go out and stretch my legs a little," said a tail gentleman, as the train stopped at a station on the New York Central. "O, don't," said a gentleman passen ger who had been sitting opposite tc him, and who had been much embar rassed by the legs of tho tall gentle man. "Don't do that. Don't stretch those legs any more. They arc toe long already." The look the long man gave the critic who objected to such lengthy extremi ties will haunt the rash man as long as memory holds her seat. —Alex Sweet, in Texas Siftings. Theory and Practice. Wife—Do newspaper writers sit up ail night? Husband—l believe so. "That explains it, then." "Explains what?" "The household department of this paper recommends roast potatoes for breakfast. One would have to sit up all night to have the oven hot enough." —N. Y. Weekly. Hrcaklng It Gently. Edgar—Miss Edith, I —ah—have something most important to ask you. May I—that is— Edith (softly)— What is it, Edgar? Edgar—May I—Edith, would you be willing to have our names printed in the papers, with a hyphen between?— Answers. Valuable Information. Dusty Rhodes —Walker owes his suc cess to his knowledge of law and valua tions. Fitz William—How is that? Dusty Rhodes—The minute he looks at an article of virtu, he knows wheth er it is grand or petty larceny.— N. Y. World. Had Ileen There Before. Judge—Have you formed any opinion on this case? Mr. Wood B. Juror—Yes, your honor, 1 have; but that need not matter. 1 have served on juries before, and I know that I shall have no opinions at all when both sides get through.— l'uck. Spoiled the Parting. Ferguson—You don't look like a man who has just said good night to hi? adored. Perhaps the old man came to the door in time to see you off. Ilankinson—He came to the door, blame him, in time to saw me off!— Chicago Tribune. Love of Power. "What ever induced Bingley to go into business? His wife has enough money to support the two of them." "It wasn't money he was after. He opened an oliice so that he could have some place on earth where ho would be boss."—lndianapolis Journal. The Income Tax. Citizen One—What do you think of this income tax? Citizen Two—l haven't made lip my mind yet. I've got to wait till the end of tho fiscal year and see whether I've got any income or not. —Detroit Free Press. YVIIKN LOVELY WOMAN VOTES. v-- ■- ;r Miss Mawbanks—Vote for that hor rid man! Why, how can you, when he has such a big, ugly red beard?— Judge. Always. Jaspar—l have noticed a peculiar tiling about men who claim to be lieve in nothing. Jumpuppe—What is it? Jaspar—They always have an un speakable belief in themselves.—Truth. Met the Emergency. Hotel Clerk—The old gentleman in No. says that his room is full of steam from the laundry. Proprietor—-All right. Charge him one dollar and fifty cents for a Turk ish bath.—N. Y. World. Home Dentistry. Johnnie—l pulled that tooth, mam ma. I knew I could. Mamma—How did you do it, dear? Johnnie—Oh, I just put on my big Sunday straw hat and tied the string to my loose tooth, and when the hat blew off it pulled the tooth right out! j —Arkansaw Traveler. Decadence of Dramatic Criticism. First Nigh tor—The man who writes the dramatic criticisms for your paper does not know a good play from a bad Editor—l know it, but what can we do? lie is the only man on the staff who is tall enough to see over the bon nets.—N. Y. Weekly. lis Properties. She (nestling up to him)—l know we are poor, papa, but Charlie says that love will make away. Her Father (grimly)— Yes, yes. It has made away with about eight tons of coal ancl fifty dollars' worth of gas in the last twelve months.—Truth. A Tremendous Y'lc*v. "We can see the statue of liberty from our house," said the Yonkers boy, proudly. "We can beat you there. We can sec the moon from ours," retorted tho boy from Boston. —Harper's Young People. Not to He Returned. Briggs—Gander seems to bo very happy in his newly-married life. Griggs—llc ought to be. All of his wedding presents were given him by j people already married.—Judge. THE MAN OF THE HOUR. Eugcno V. Debs, President of the Ann r! can Kail way Union. President Eugene V. Del . of the American liail a ay union, as the direct iighead of the* boycott against the Pullman company's cars, is a i r eminent figure in American affairs to-day.. lie brings to the present struggle between organized labor and organized capital great executive ability, and he is be sides a wonderful organizer. Mr. Debs, too, is an orator of no mean preten sions. lie has u good voice and pres ence, is magnetic and earnest, lie pos sesses absolutely the confidence of the men in the American Railway union. President Debs was born in Terre Haute, Ind., in 1855. He received his educa tion in the public schools of that city, and when sixteen years old began work as a painter in the Vandalia railroad shops. Afterward he worked for three years as a fireman on the same road. His first appearance in public life was his election to the office of city clerk of Terre Ilaute. lie served two terms, and when he was twenty-six years old was chosen a member of the state legis lature. While in that body he secured the passage of several laws in the in terest of labor. Ilis speech nominating Daniel Voorhccs for the United States senate gave Mr. Debs wide reputation as an orator. At the end of his terra in the legislature Mr. Debs was made grand secretary and treasurer of the brotherhood of Locomotive Firemen, and he filled that office for fourteen consecutive years. He was always an earnest advocate of a federation of railway nun, and through his efforts the United Order of Railway Employes, composed of the brotherhoods of rail way trainmen and conductors, Brother hood of Locomotive Firemen and of the Switchmen's Mutual Aid associa tion, was formed and Mr. Debs became a member of its supreme council. The organization, however, was dissipated by a quarrel between two of the lead ing orders comprising it, and then Mr. Debs conceived the idea of the Amcri- EUGENE V. DEBS. can Railway union. For a year and n half he worked at the details, and the union came into existence June 20,1893. Since its organization it has prospered, and the union is now the largest body of railway men in the world. Its re cent victory in the strike against the Great Northern railway was a signal one. That was Debs' first great fight and he won it. Mr. I)cbs is married and has a pleasant home in Terre Ilaute. HIS FUNNY SHAPE. Tho Young Lady Could Not Cot Onto the Umpire's Curves. Not everyone who goes to a baseball game knows all about the game. Sora< of them, principally women, know con siderably more about many other things. This was illustrated at tho Philadel phia Basball park tho other day. She had been going for the last live games and began to think she knew some thing more than her sisters. But there was one thing that floored her, and that was the umpire. "Hasn't he got a funny shape," said she to her escort. Lie replied "yes," in an absent-minded way, for there were three on bases, with a tie score. The crisis past, the conversation was "Why do they have such a deformed man there?" asked she. Iler escort M 1 Bins THOUGHT TIIE UMPIRE WAS DE FORMED. looked at the umpire several times, but could see no deformity. So he asked for information. "Why, don't you sec how his stomach is shaped?" was the reply. Then it be gan to dawn upon the baseball en thusiast that his fair companion did not realize that the umpire had on a chest protector and it made him look like a lean spring chicken. He ex plained. Where Weddings Are Melancholy. A Japanese wedding would appear to bo a melancholy affair. It is not good form for tho bride over there to admit that she is glad to get married, j When she is told of the process she is J expected to howl loudly ami long. Also she must keep it up by day and by night until the ceremony takes place. After she has been richly dressed for the event she must renew her shrieks and hang back until one of her at tendants throws a veil over her faco. Then un old woman takes her on tho back and carries lier to a sedan chair. When she arrives at tho bridegroom's house she is a wife, the simple ride in the flowery chair being the'only legal ceremony required, though profuse entertainments and congratulations from assembled guests follow her arrival. for Infants and Children. yours' observation of Castoria with the patronage of 0 millions of persons, permit us to speak of it without guessing. ' iy tha boat remedy for Infants and Children -or known. It is harmless. Children like it. It - b. It will wave their lives. In it Mothers have Momefhinfe which is absolutely safe and practically perfect as a child's medicine. Castoria destroy s Worms. Castoria allays Fcverishnesa. Castoria proven? s vomiting Sonr Cnrd. Castoria cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves Toothing Troubles. Castoria and Flatnleney. Cnntorin iiontr.iluos the effects of carbonic acid gas or poisonons air, Castoria does not contain morphine, opium, or other narcotic property. Cn.3torir. assimilates theffootd t regulates the stomach and bowels, giving healthy and natural sloop. Castoria is pnt op in one-size bottles only. It is not sold in hulk. Don't allow any one to sell yon anything else on the plea or promise that it is* just as good " and " will answer every purpose." Soo that you get C-A-S-T-O-R-I-A. Tho foe-simile y/tTy ~ * 8 on every signature of wrapper. Children Cry for Pitcher's Castoria. GO. £ll ftfl saving tho .i tiio dealer's profit. Wo are tho . dlaUv "AM -i and l.:->'fttNt manufacturers In Amor- fill SI 1 I I B ' !l ''^ lnK ' WHOLESALE PRICEB. JJJif /X 1,/ Serine Wagons, s3l to SSO. Guaranteed No.Tßl,Surrey. ■! • Surreys,s6s toSIOO * Bo.av. Sarrrj TUr. • ' •:> i-r t m. Top Buggies, m SZB ii | 1 $37.50, as flno assoldforß6s. PnfiStons,s6s 'T-to SIOO. F.irm V/fgons, Wagonettes, / jm /\ 13750 \\ 1 {£•'? uilnuif.v ( - A'- ■ /'"> -A I'V ' *'" a * so No. T27, Boad Wagon. v. -sLjlv SSK No. TISVjg, Top Buggy. Manuftu ff 1 | HS-.*K5 ■ /\ r -vs \ " r ty?s r f / * miHNti svi>l>LHP und FLY NETS. Elkhart lllcycle, SBln.wheelS, \/ ,;4J> W - - H KV h nrr. ii t. rf r i-h with order. Send 4c. In pneumatic tiros, weldless <-aiiih-rfiu-. -i. ■ 1 luhintf. drop fonriiiKß. No. 3, Farm Wagon. Address W„ 8. PRATT, Sec'y, ELKHART, IND. We impart a thorough knowledge of the COMMERCIAL STl T DIES at tho cost of less time and money than other schools. THOUSANDS owe their success in life (so tliev say) to the training tliey received here. We made RREAD-WIN.\KRBof tliem. We wnntyou to know us; write and we will tell >on ill about this LIVE SCHOOL. N. 11. We assist grad uates to positions. I'ALDIS BI'SINIiSS COLLEGE, 170S-1710 ChcHtnut St., PIIILA. I Caveats, and Trade-Marks obtained, and all Pat- \ #ent business conducted for MODERATE FEES. * <Our OFFICE IS OPPOSITE U. S. PATENT OrricE * J and we can semre patent in less time than those J i remote from Washington. £ £ Send model, drawing or photo., with descrip-* Stion. We advise, if patentable or not, free of i 5 charge. Our fee not due till patent is secured. # ? A PAMPHLET, "How to Obtain Patents," with* J cost of same in the U. S. and foreign countries i 5 sent free. Address, £ C.A.SNOW&COJ OPP. PATENT OFriCE. WASHINGTON. D. C. Complexion Pfsserved DR. HEBRA'S VIOLA MM Removes Freckle-i, Pimples, Liver - Molas. B!ackhc;ds, Sunburn and Tan, and ro \ stores tho skin to its origi nal freshness, producing a/ * jjk-' • clear and. healthy com- tOTo. > W plexlon. Superior to nil f:. • S reputations nnd p< rf - y harmless. At all ruggists, or mailed for 50cts. Send for Circular. VIOLA SKIN 80APV7m P ty Incomparable u t skin I'urifylni; H up, vt> ..let I".. ihu tollo, .t 1 without a rival tur the i.ur- ry. -...n..- it iru uud delicately inedi catcd. At ' Price 25 Centb. G. C. BITTNLH & CO., TOLEDO, Q. COPYRIGHTS. OA\ I OBTAIN A PATENT? For a KWJPL u l 8 J??r an S n . n honed, opinion, write to I>l I NN A ( <>., who have had nearly fifty years' experience in tlio patent business. t'ominunieu- . lions strictly confidential. A H;i ndbooi, uf In formation concerning Pnteiirs and how to ob tain Litem sent free. Also a catalogue of mechan ical atul scientific books sent free. lat cut 3 taken through Munn 8c Co. receivo Special notice In tlio Scientific American, and thus are brought widely bcloretlic public with out cost, to the inventor. This splendid paper, issued weekly, elegantly illus! rated, has by far the largest circulation of ativ ncntifie work in tho w< 2f l< }:, n yoar - Sample copies sent free. Building Edition, monthly, s . ;,ua year, Hinglo Copies, '2.1 cents, livery numt er contains beau tiful plates, in colors, and photographs of new houses, with plans, enabling builders to show tho latest designs and si cure contracts. Address MUNN 6c CO., NLW YoitK, 3til BItoADWAY. Fortunes Made and Saved by following the advioo of the Wall Street Daily News, (established 18?.)) in speculating or investing in Railway Stocks and Bonds. Subscription, f, per year, simple copies free. Addle-. M. Martin lllack, editor, No. Id Exchange Place. N. Y. Wheeler & Wilson IIIGIT ARM NojQ.l' BFFI.EX SEWING MACHINE. I SEWS EITHER CHAIN OR LOCK STITCII. I The lightest running, most durable anil most popular machine . \ in the world. i Send for catnloguo. Agents wanted. ■ > v Best goody. Best terms. Address . . y-' Wheeler & Wilson Mfg. Co., Philadelphia* Pa. ' TO HE OPPONENTS OF THE KNIGHTS OF LABOR. You judge our organization without com plete understanding uf our principles or , 1 our position on current questions. There is ONLY ONK authorized organ of the (h-iu rnl Order of the Knights of Labor and that is the Journal of the Knights of Labor. The best reform weekly paper in America. ! suiisnmu: FO it IT. KKAII IT. Til UN (IHITICISK US. , | Price, §1 a year. HI 1 North Broad street, l'hiludelpltia, I'tw
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