THE OLD D'AGUErtREOTYPE. Up In the attic I found them locked in the cedar chest, Where the flowered powns lie folded, which once were brave as the best, And, like tho queer old jackets and the waistcoats gay with stripes, They tell of a wornout fashion, these old daguer reotypes. Quaint little folding cases, fastened with tiny hook, \ Seemingly made to tempt one to lift up the latch and look; Linings of purple and velvet, odd little frames of gold. Circling the faded faces brought from the days of old. Grandpa and grandma, taken ever so long ago, Grandma's bonnet a marvel, grandpa's collar a show; Mother, a tiny toddler, with rings on her baby hands Painted—lest none should notice—in glittering gilded bands. Aunts and uncles and cousins, a starchy and stiff Lovers and brides, then blooming, but now so wrinkled and gray, Out through the misty glasses they garc at me, sitting here Opening the quaint old cases with a smile that is half a tear. I will smile r.o more, little pictures, for heartless it waa in truth, To drag to the cruel daylight these ghosts of a vanished youth. Go back to your cedar chamber, your gownß and your lavender, And dream mid their bygpne graces of the won derful -days that were. —Saturday Evening Post. 0 THE WOKAN WHO !! COULD NOT DIE.!! ' A Strange and Grcwsoin© Tale ' ' ( | I : t : By Count Leo Tolstoi. ( | • S't'O '••••■•.>•! 1 Ilor lioocl and tho apron that conceal ed tho dark skirt she wore, all but for a narrow strip In the hack, and the scarf fastened crosswise over licr breast were dnzzlingly white. On her left arm she carried a basket of home made sweetmeats, in her hand a stout cane. She shuffled along In the attitude of a half open penknife, hut approaching the bench where I sat, raised herself a little so that I could see her face. A veritable network of wrinkles. Hers, 1 said to myself, must have been a long, laborious life, n life full of enres and disappointments if the lines by Which misfortune had marked her countenance tell its story. "Sit down, little mother," I snld, making room for her. "Thanks, my lord. If I may loan against the fence a bit, I will be all right again. When an old thing like I sits down and gets up, there is al ways a shooting pain in one's hack." "Then, how old may you be, little mother?" "Eighty and more years—don't know for certain. But it's all In the books at the village parsounge where I was •born." "Then you are not a Moscow wom an?" "Oh, dear, no; I am Ekatrhia, from ■AVadowice. One of my daughters mar ried a Moscow lad, Peter, who works 111 the nail factory. AVhen I felt death approaching, I went to live with them, thinking my last hours would pass pleasanter in the society of those I love. One's relatives, If they are not too hard hearted, will at least place a handful of straw under the tired head when it's all over so the soul may de part easier from what has been its sin ful abode." "And are the children good to you?" "How could they he otherwise? An old woman, unable to escape misfor tune, must be content anywhere. But things are not exactly going as I hoped." "What's wrong, then?" "Death disappointed me. I cnmc here to die, you know, yet I am living, living, living all the time. Look at ine, my lord. Would you suspect that there Is more than a spark left In me? God's wrath! I seem to have more lives than n eat. Ilad It all planned out to n nice ty; wasn't going to give them any trou ble Whatever. After the police had been duly notified of my arrival that was to he the end of it, I reckoned. My son-in-law went to the factory as usu al, my daughter busied herself about the house, while I sat In a corner by the fireside to work over the down feathers I had collected the past year. My sole ambition was to euro enough for a lied, the inheritance I meant to leave behind. And all the time I mur mured prayers one after the other and then began anew. Death, which I thought so near, should And me well employed. "I waited a month, another, n third— who didn't come was death. I run cold when I think of it." And Ekatrl 11a trembled as she loaned on her cane. "One Sunday in the fourth mouth the janitor came up. 'Peter,' he said, 'you must get a permit of residence for the little mother. That's the law.' "My son became frightened. 'Does it cost much?' he asked when Ire found his tongue again. I " 'About 2 rubles a quarter.' 1 "Then my son got down his tobacco pouch and gave its contents to the Jan itor, who forthwith withdrew just as If there were no police in the world. When he was gone, I said: 'Sonny, don't you trouble about a permit of res idence for me. I came here to die, not to live. True, I nm still breathing, hut ready to collapse any minute.' "And my daughter said: 'That's right. Why spend any money 011 her? If sin- doesn't die today, It's tomorrow or next day. Shi' says so herself, and dying people (lon't lie.' "You see, my lord," continued the old woman, "we all agreed on this dy ing business and felt quite satisfied that It would come off In good season. But now that death has disappointed us don't think, my lord, that I was shamming at any time. Even then, at the very beginning of my martyrdom, If I may call It so without disrespect to the good saints—even then I was subject nt Intervals to such agonized feelings of oppression and helpless ness that every bone In me contracted, and it became black before my eyes Just as if they were filled with soot. Again I had such fearful pains in my spine that I couldn't have raised my face to heaven for a silver ruble. But, my lord, we—l beg your pardon a thou sand times; I mean we common people —are such sinners and know nothing about dying, absolutely nothing. A Second quarter passed by, and I was still sitting on the stove bench, a piti able monument of miscalculation. "I couldn't understand it. Is it pos sible, I said to myself, that the Lord Jesus has forgotten to call me when my days are up? "One evening. Just as Peter returned from work, the Janitor walked In rude ly. 'What in thunder Is the matter with the old woman?' he bellowed. 'You say she came here to die; but, confound her, she Is living 011 and 011, cheating the state out of Its dues. She ought to have bought a permit of resi dence nine months ago. Now you will have to pay a fine in addition. Attend to this without delay, as the police hold me responsible.' "Peter, poor fellow, looked all per plexed, never said a word and scratch ed his head. But my daughter, scarlet with rage, snapped at me viciously. 'Old fool,' she hissed, 'you came here to die. didn't you? A fine excuse, that, for eating us out of house and home! Now we will be sold up for taxes. May you suffer in purgatory a hundred years for every kopeck we have to pay!' "But Peter—ah. lie Is such nn angel of a follow!—can't hurt a fly. 'Franka,' lie said, 'stop your abuse. God may punish you for it. Think how you may faro some day when you are old.' Then we talked It over, and Peter gave the janitor 53 kopecks to hold in hand, •for,' he argued, 'death might come at any minute now.' "Fifty-three kopecks for a miserable bag of bones like me! It nearly broke my heart, and Franka went around the house like a she bear bereft of her young. She was so mad she smashed the soup pot in setting it down—anoth er kopeck gone! Ami all for me. 'I wouldn't mind it so much,' said my daughter after a day or two, 'lf we had nil got drunk for the money.' " Ekntrlna breathed hard once or twice and continued musingly: "I can't say that they begrudge me the soup I eat. May God punish me If I ever had such a thought! But at tin' same time I do not shorten their rations by unseemlng appetite. A few spoonfuls left in the tureen is enough for me. A tine thing It would be, indeed, if a dried up whisp of straw, such as 1 am. allowed herself to be fattened by young married folks! Every age, as I take it, has its peculiar rights and privileges. Old people, good for nothings,can better afford to starve than youth, with its thousand duties to fulfill. No, my lord, they never stinted me in the way of food. But the loss of ready money they suffered. Fifty three kopecks! Oh, it was cruel!" The old woman paused to dry her tears. "And what happened then?" I asked. "A second whiter season lnul begun. The janitor became even more trouble some. Peter had to give him tolmcco, beer, money even. I was exceedingly unhappy. Everything was going against me; all my calculations went for naught. Ah. I learned the truth of the proverb 'Man proposes, God disposes!' While the feather bed was still unfin ished there was perhaps some excuse for my living, but when that was done I felt like cursing my fate. "Hut the winter was extraordinarily cold, and I took heart again, for my rheumatism became almost unbearable and my cough increased to such in tensity tlint I told Franks: 'Be cheer ful. daughter; there is no deception about this! The new pains will cer tainly kill me.' " 'Pshaw,' replied she contemptuous ly, 'talk is cheap. Don't make a moun tain out of that molehill of a cough, if you please. It's no real cough at all; Just a bit of irritation in the throat,' she added with scorn. 'lt won't hurt you more than a kick will a dog.' " I wanted to sa.v something, but Eka trlna, fearing criticism of her unnatural daughter, quickly continued: "It was this way, your lordship: Franks had to keep that infernal janitor in liquor all the time to prevent his tattliug. He was forerer in her kitchen, smoking Peter's tobacco and sending her for wodka. Then I resolved upon another plan. I began fasting, even two days be fore the feast of Christ's holy trans figuration. Peter objected. 'Do not attempt to correct God,' he said. 'What must come will come. Death catches a good many flies in winter. He will catch you, too, little mother. Ton don't need to Invite him by starving your self.' But 1 fasted Just the same." "And did it do any good?" • "Yes, yes! After 20 days I was so weak that I couldn't scrub the lloor any more. I could hardly swnllow n drop of water. Zounds, I thought, this Is dc#tli for a surety. And my heart leaped with joy. "Frunkn heated a big pot of water and'gave it to me with a handful of soft soap; also a rough piece of linen, and I washed front head to foot to save them the trouble after ward, donned my fresh laundered clothes and sat down 011 the threshold, praying and—waiting. The weather was most beautiful. On the blue heav ens rows of \vhlte lambs chased each other. 1 had never seen such finely formed clonals in all my life. The sun laughed, bliss were singing and spring was In the air. I'rfmt the tower, near by, church bells sounded. And I cross ed myself and said aloud: 'Give me thy etfcnal peace. O Lord, and may thy light show me the road to heaven. Amen.' And with that 1 closed my eyes, feeling like one rid of all earthly misery. I was going to my father. 1 was convinced of it. "Suddenly—loud steps, creaking toots beside me—l opened my eyes. It was the Janitor who ennie to fetch me to the master of police 011 nccount of the resi dence permit. I prayed that the earth might open and swallow me, but my wish was wicked and was not granted. Peter wasn't at home. Frnnka was washing; I was afraid to disturb her. If Peter had been there he would have found means to pacify the Janitor for the moment, when all would be well, tor I felt sure that I would be dead before nightfall. "While I was still weighing these with a big tub of soapy water. 'What ire you standing around there for?' she scolded. 'Get yourself to the police master's, for his excellency won't be bamboozled like us by stories of cough and fasting. Your whole residence here was a fraud. It's too late now to wall about it. Go—and to Jail if neces sary.' "At first I was dumfounded, but presently my senses returned. 'You nre right, daughter,' I replied, took my shawl and went out. I walked slowly along the houses, groping my way and leaping against a wall from time to time. My eyes were ltolilug as If beset by a thousand ants, and my body felt cold now, as If they were rolling me naked In the snow, and hot then. Was I so near purgatory? At last I landed at the police master's and entered the first room, where some great lords sat at tallies. One was most proud and magnificent, another was gowned all in black anil the third looked rather mean. I bowed down to the ground and began to tell my story. 'Not here, no.t here,' they said. I bowed again and went to the next room. The same story, 'Not here.' And so I hustled from room to room, front table to table. My strength was leaving me, when finally a thin, long gentleman took pity on old Bka trlua and took me Into the right cham ber where the master sat in state. "There I waited upon the threshold while my legs shook like aspen leaves. At last the great one deigned to look up. 'What is it?' he asked. Bravely I unbosomed myself and told him every thing from beginning to end. He lis tened, then again asked, 'What Is it?' I repeated my story of liow I went to the children to .die; how, being alto gether sure of death, I omitted to buy a permit of residence; how the dear Lord Jesus had seemingly forgotten me, and how. because I continued to keep 011 living, I was summoned before him. "The great lord rang a silver bell. Immediately another came in who looked even more beautiful, for big, shiny buttons were on ills coat. I had to tell my story to him also. When 1 finished, the master said. 'See here, Ekatrina, thou owest the little father, the czar, quite a heap of money, but we will take pity on thee anil let It go at o' 2 rubles.' "I wrung my hands. Five rubles and a half! Tlie very amount to a kopeck that I hnd given my children to pay for tlie funeral! Feeling swoony, I leaned against tlie wall. It got dark before my eyes, anil a gale was blow ing through my lirnln. And those fine gentlemen jumped from their seats as if by one accord. One grabbed the water bottle; tlie other brought a chair. Seeing tlie police master's compassion, 1 knelt down and embraced his knees. " 'Most gracious, most powerful lord police master, have the goodness to look ut me! I mil Just a bit of useless dust; no more. As to tlie amount of soul within me, it's not worth bother ing about. Relieve mo, I inn taking no one's place in tills world: sleep on a truss of straxy bellied tlie stove and pick up no more food tlinii n sparrow! Ab, and I use very little air, for 1 am too weak to breathe much! As regards sunlight, 1 live in the cellar, where a beam seldom penetrates. " 'I know 1 ought to lie dead long ago, but what can I do against this persist ent, damnable, costly habit of living? Pray, take pity on me; it's surely the heaven's fault. The good saint who keeps tlie book of life must have over looked poor Ekatrina. Don't punish me, lest the heavenly recorder may re sent It. I assure your lordship I have been expecting death und preparing for it ever so long. I have prayed for it daily, hourly. And while I owe the little father, the czar—may the Lord bless lilm—l paid my permit of resi dence to God. Thirteen children 1 have home and have buried seven. Oh, I worked for the czar too. 1 gave him two recruits, strapping fellows! One of my boys was drowned; one daughter •an away with tlie circus; the youngest burned to death in a hayloft like a sparrow under a thatched roof. Indeed, my lord, Goil and I are quits as regards the permit of residence, quits by virtue of the children I bore in pains nud suckled with hunger sturlng nie In tlie face. " 'He took It out of me In cares, In hard labor, In cuffs and beatings from a drunken husband, in the bloody tears that I cried on those burial grounds of yellow sand, seven of them; count them, my lord!'" Old Ekatrina was overcome. Great tears rolled down her flcshlcss checks. Her lips trembled and lier head in clined from one side to tlie other. "Indeed," I said, "thou linst paid for tliy permit of residence In this world." After she had come to I added, "Anil what then?" "Oh, they made me pay," replied tlie old woman without a shadow of resent ment In her voice, "They took it n li my entire funeral money Is gone.. But I ilou't lilanic those flue gentlemen. They did their duty. Tlie law is on tlie books and must be obeyed." "And now thou hast taken to ped dling?" "Yes. I sold the feather bed and bought a new permit of residence for the ensuing quarter. For the next lam trying to earn a few kopecks In ad vance. With that constitution of mine I may live another year. I am begin ning to think I can't tile."—Philadel phia Times, A DIPLOMATIC LIBRARIAN. He I'lpiu.d llic Politician Without 111 * 1 IIA 111 M Friend A L'onltlon. When Mr. Putnam was the head of the Public library in Boston, u ward leader of that city called on him to rec ommend a henchman for a place in the library. There was no reason why the libra rian should not have refused at once and peremptorily to appoint him, but he chose to follow another course. After a few minutes' talk with tho politician Mr. Putnam asked him whether lie had ever been through all the departments of the Institution. "I never have, but I'd like to see it," replied the politician. "It will give me much pleasure to go with you," said Mr. Putnam. Mr. Putnam took him behind the counters and through the building from top to bottom, explaining tho character anil the magnitude of the work In detail. He further pointed out, without scorning to do so, the varied duties of the employees and the attain ments they must possess to do the work. When the tour was ended, Mr. Putnam said: "I'm pleased to have had a chance to show the library to you, anil if j-our friend will Ull out an application blank and send it, and if he passes the neces sary examination, I think there will be no difficulty In placing his name on tlie waiting list." The politician, however, had seen enough of library work to convince him that ills constituent could find no place on the staff, and tlie blank was never filled out. But to tlie day lie left Boston Mr. Putnam had no warmer ad mirer in that city than tills same ward leader.—Collier's Weekly. HOW TO LIKE WAGNER. Scenic AccpMMoricN Are XeccNwnry to u Perfect Uenllßntion. Tlie strict Wagnerite refuses to hear the music of Ids favorite composer in the concert room. It was never intend ed, lie will tell you, to be performed by Itself, but to lie played as an accompa niment to tlie action, for Hie purpose of heightening tlie effect of the Intense ly dramatic situations coupled with gorgeous stage pictures that are in separable from Wagner's famous art work. The most Important part of a Wag ner opera, according to the composer himself, is not tlie music, but the drama, which, indeed, tlie beginner should closely follow with the aid of the book of words, since tlie music is usually sung in German words. The intending Wagnerite should also begin with tlie master's most popular works, "Tannhauser" and "Lohengrin." He will then at once recognize the fa miliar music lie lias already heard so often at concerts, and, struck by its beauties, lie will attend many perform ances of these two. Next year lie will want to hear these again, supplement ed by "Tristan und Isolde," that won derful music drama so charged with Intense emotion and passion. Having heard "Tristan" and liked It, lie there upon becomes a full fledged Wagnerite in tlie true sense, and the season after lie attends performances of tlie "Ring dor Nilielungen," or lie may make a supreme effort to get to Baireuth. From Baireuth lie returns tlie nrdeut disciple of a musician whose uaine he terrifies ills friends by pronouncing in tlie German fashion, not Wagner, but "Vaachkner."—London Mail. Mexican Letter Writers. Perhaps there is no more character istic sight ill Mexico than the so called "evangellstas" who ply their trade 111 tlie Plazuela de Beleni and the Plazue la of Kanto Domingo. Those who oper ate in tlie former spot make a specialty of writing letters to tlie inmates of the prison for their illiterate relatives on the outside, but tlie "evangelistas" who may be seen any day In tlie Plazuela of Santo Domingo do a general business. They write love letters, blackmailing letters and all sorts of letters for thoso who do not know how to write at a rate of fl, fl, !) or more cents, according to tlie length of tlie missive. They also undertake without extra charge to write tlie address on the envelope and to attach tlie required stamp, but for tlie latter they make an extra charge of u cent. It Is hardly necessary to state that only very ignorant people, who aro totally unacquainted even with the simple formalities of mailing a letter In addition to not knowing how to write, have recourse to the evangellstas for stamps. Mexican Herald. Had Seen Them All Before, Once while James Wllitcoml) Riley was visiting a southern town where ho was hooked to give a reading u com mittee called to take him in a carriage over tlie city, in acknowledging the compliment he said: "I'll go with you, gentlemen, provid ed you promise that you will not show me tlie new courthouse, tlie new town hall, tlie new bridge, tlie new gas well, the new school building and tlie new Jail, for I've seen them all a hundred times 111 as many towns, anil they In variably wear me out before tlie time arrives for tlie curtain to rise on the evening eiitcrtuinment',"—Atlanta Con stitution, A Finished Speech, Miss A.—When I'm asked to sing, I don't say, "No, I can't sing," nor wall to be coaxed, but sit right down at tlie piano and— Miss B.—Leave the company to find it out for themselves. Philadelphia Bulletin. The Goat Bliln't Know. "Oh, my dear (daughter," to a little girl of (I, "you should not be frighten ed and rim from the gont. Don't you know you are a Christian Scientist?" "But, mamma," excitedly, "the billy goat doesn't kuow it."—Trained Moth er hood. YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT, fnstnnrrM 'of Bird Strategy—Ailvlee For Little Brothers—llCNCU -Ins a Kitten. The conduct of various birds during the breeding season is so different from what it is at other times that, to my mind, it is often very hard to say for certain where distress ends and strate gy begins or to which of the two tho behavior of the bird should be attrib uted. lllrds disturbed off their eggs or their newly hatched young often flut ter about 11s though they were half par alyzed. I cannot believe that this is always for the purpose of drawing the unwelcome intruder away from the precious nest. Ilirds that have been sitting for a long time are Invariably Inactive when disturbed, and this should be taken into account In consid ering the question of strategy. On the other hand, one finds at times both male and female behaving in a way that suggests something like a regular scheme on the part of the par ent birds for rescuing their young from real or imaginary danger. I came up on a covey of very young partridges, accompanied by their parents, on the dusty highroad one July evening when going witli my rod to the riverside. The cock bird. I had Just time to ob serve, hurried the young through a gateway into a field, while the hen in stantly started running along the road a dozen yards or so ahead of me. Once or twice she stopped, apparently to al low me to come up fairly close to her, and then ran on again. This contin ued till we were about 100 yards from the spot where the covey ran into the field, when the hen bird also ran through a gap in tho hedge. 1 got up Just in time to see her rise from the ground and fly straight back to the spot where her family were 110 doubt lurking. If that was not strategy, it was curiously like it. On the Test one day I disturbed a family party of wild ducks in a little reed sheltered creek. The female bird, within reach of my teu foot fly rod, flapped helplessly about the water as though grievously wounded. The male flew across the stream, where lie was Joined by the young, and not until all the latter were" safe across the water did the mother rise on strong wing to follow tho rest of the family. In both those cases the conduct of the parent birds surely implied strategy of a high order.—George A. B. Dewar. Advice For Utile Brothers. If brothers care to be popular with their sisters, there is one thing they should be particularly careful not to do. When they have committed any special mischief, such as breaking the best plate glass window with a ball or smashing the pony carriage by furious driving, they should not leave their sis ters to "face the music." Girls may be used to rows, but they are not any more fond of them than boys are, and they have quite euough to bear as It Is. Another tiling that boys should try to avoid Is making fun of their sisters and ridiculing their appearance. It would also be quite as well not to poke her best doll's eyes In if the boy cau refrain from doing so, because some cirls are rather spiteful, and it might result 111 a pin being stuck into his new football. There are several other little things It would be as well to avoid. Don't, for instance, put dead mice in her bed, because, although it may cause an im mense amount of amusement, it Is poor sort of fun to frighten a girl who can't even thrash you in return. Try very hard not to feel a contempt for your sisters when they are clean, but re member that most girls prefer being clean and that you are even clean your self sometimes —on Sunday before church, for instance. Resell!njr n Kitten. A well known Boston architect has a tender spot in his heart and once spent several hours devising away to rescue a kitten that had fallen into one of the ventilating flues in the walla of an apartment in the postofflee building. The kitten had been Imprisoned sever al days without food or water, and the flue was -4(1 feet in depth. Notice of the matter was brought to the architect late of a Saturday after noon. The cries of the kitten could lie faintly heard, and the would be res cuer ut first thought he would cut through the marble facing of the apart ment in which tlio flue was located. Fortunately some one suggested that perhaps (lie kitten might seize the end of a line if it were weighted. The experiment was made, and, strange to say, the nearly starved crea ture almost instantly took fast hold with its claws. The rope was very carefully and slowly drawn up and the kitten with It. The Ilnyloft. Through all the pleasant mondowside The grass prcw shoulder hinh, Till the shining scythes went tor and wide And cut it down to dry. These green and Sweetly smelling crops They led In wagons home. And *h®y piled them here in mountain tops mountaineers to roam. Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty Nail, Mount Eagle and Mount High; / The miee that in these mountains dwell ' No happier are than II f Oh, what a joy to clamber there I 7 f Oh. what a place for play. With the sweet, the din, the tlusty sir. The happy bill* id hay I —Robert Louis Stevenson. An Rlocfrlc Dance, Take a pane of glass—a broken one will do—and secure It by placing the ends between the leaves of two large books, letting the glass be two Inches from the table. Cut from light weight writing paper or. better still, from tis sue paper dolls, dogs and other figures. Place them on the table beneath the glass. Rub tlie glass vigorously with a silk handkerchief, and the figures will all Linda iJi jiutioa The Tribune Is The Leading. Newspaper In Freeland! At the subscrip tion price of $1.50 per year the Tribune costs its readers less than one cent a copy. Think of that! Less than one cent a copy! And for that you get all the local news, truthfully reported and carefully written up. Besides all the local news, the Tri bune gives the news of the world in a con densed form. Thus the busy workman can keep in formed as to what is going on in the world without buying any other paper. The Tribune is essentially a newspa per for the home cir cle. You can read it yourself and then turn it over to your chil dren without fear of putting anything ob jectionable into their hands. Order It from The Carriers or from The Office.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers