FREELAND TRIBUNE. I IrtifcUikil 1111. TUBLISHBD BVBRY MOFDAY, WIDNBBDAY and FRIDAY. BT THB TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, Limited. Orrici: Main Street above Cbntrb. Long Distance Tblephonb. SUBSCRIPTION RATES. FREKLANI).—The Trihunb Is delivered by Mrrier* to subHcribern in Frveland at the rate of ltX cents ft month, payable every two months* or $1.50 a year, payable In advance. The Tribune may be ordered direct from the carriers or frem the office. Complaints of irregular or tardy delivery service will receive prompt attention. BY MAIL.—The Tribune is sent to out-of town subscribers for $1.50 a year, payable in advance; pro rata terms for shorter periods. The date when the subscription expires is on the address label of each paper. Prompt re newals must be made at the expiration, other wise the subscription will be discontinued. Entered at the Postofllce at Freeland, Pa., as Second-Class Matter. Make all money orders, checks, etc., payable to Tribune Printing Company, Limited. FREKLANI), PA., JUNE 17, 1901. PENSIONS FOR EMPLOYEES. Illinois. Central Railway. President Stuyvcsant Fish of the Illi nois Central liullrond company has Issued a circular announcing a pension plan for the 40,000 employee* of the company. The plan, which Is to take effect July 1, Is more liberal to Its provisions than has heretofore been adopted by any other road. The com pany starts with a gift of $250,000 and In nddltlon will each year make an ap propriation of an amount not to ex ceed SIOO,OOO. The pension allowances are on the following basis: Far each year of service an allow ance of 1 per cent of the average reg ular monthly pay received for the ten years preceding retirement. Thus, If un employee baa been In the service for 40 years and has received on on avor uge for the last ten years SSO per month regular wages, his pension al lowance will he forty per cent of SSO, or S2O per month. An entirely new departure Id railroad pensioning Is mode In a provision that leave of absence, suspension, dismissal followed by reinstatement within one year or temporary lay off on account of reduction, when unattended by otber employment Is not to be considered as a break In the continuity of the serv ice. The system applies to every officer and employee of the road, from the president down to the humblest labor er, except members of the law and sur gical departments. All officers and em ployees who have attained the age "of 70 years shall be retired, aud such of them ns have been ten years In tbe service of the road shall lie pensioned. Other roods require a service of 30 years before a pension Is Issued. Engineers, firemen, conduetpss, flag men and hrakemen, trainmen, baggage men, yardmasfers, switchmen, bridge foremen, seetlon foremen aud super visors who have attained the age of 65 years may be retired and pensioned If they have served the company ten years. Other companies make the age of retirement for these employees with a pension 20 years and require 80 years' service for a pension. Officers and employees between 81 and 70 years of age who have been ten yenrs In the service and who have be come Incapacitated may be retired and pensioned. Other companies make the limit 65 to 60. w. In ense an employee between 61 or 70 years of age claims that be Is. or should the employing officer claim that he Is, incapacitated for further service he shall make application for retirement, and the board of pensions shsll deter mine whether or not he shall be re tired. No person Inexperienced In rollwny work over 36 years of age and no ex perienced person over 45 years of age shall honw/ter be taken Into the com pany's service. Otber compunles make a straight 35 year limit. "I Owe (he l**blle !Yothlo*r." J. lierpont Morgan, the man whose word Is almost law In the commercial world of two continents and whose financial genius Is bringing about tbe combination of the greatest Industries lu Europn and America, has followed the exjvg)l.i of William H. Vanilerbllt In cxiwwfcrtng bis contempt of the Aniertrgu public. Vandcrbllt said, "The psiWJr be d-—d." Morgan was In terviewed Jn Paris Saturday. He didn't wish to discuss the panic of Blue Thursday on the New York, Stock Ex change. The Interviewer pleadod for a few words, saying: "Don't you think that slneb you are being blnmod for a panic that has ruined thousands of people and dls turl>ed a whole nation some statement Is due the public!" "I owe the public nothing," Mr. Mor gan retorted. "Won't you say whether you con sider yourself responsible?" "I will say nothing." And why should he? He and bis class constitute the government of the United States and the world. That class Is 1u possession by legalized aud sanctified larceny; thp public Is Its pupi>ot. A producer of wealth la Its lemon, to be squeezed dry aiid sell hla bones for a month's grub for bis starv ing children.—Social Democratic Her ald. "The Doctors told me my cough was lucurable. One Minute Cough Cure made me a well man." Norrls Silver, North Stratford, N. H.—Because you've not found relief from a stubborn cough, don't despair. One Minute Cough Core has cured thousands and It will cure you. Safe aud sure. Grovor's City drug store. A LETTER FROM JEFFERSON It Hfaowa That IV# Wia a Goal Ira vlder For Hie Haoarboll, Mrs. Para T. Kinney has In her col lection of treasures nn autograph let ter of Thomne Jefferson. The date to blurred, aod the address Is mutilated post recovery. Here la the letter: Monticex-ixj, Oct. 0, 1704. (T) Dear Sir—ln a letter of the 17th ult. I acknowledged the receipt of your fa vors of the lth and 27th of August, and within a few days at most the sev eral articles you had been bo kind as to forward to me came to hand safely In good condition and to my perfect satis faction. As the freezing of the Dela ware might provont my getting my supplies of groceries for the first quar ter of the ensuing year were I to delay sending for them, 1 Intimated In my last letter that I might probatly trou ble you with a new application very shortly. This I take the liberty of now doing, having noted on the back hereof the list of articles desired. When I wrote you before, I did not suspect my stock of oil to be so low. It Is now en tirely out, and therefore I am obliged to ask an Immediate supply of three gallons till yours shall arrive. I have written to an old acquaintance, Mr. Barnes, In 3d street, from whom I used to take teas In Philadelphia, to ask the favor of you to receive some which I have desired of him and to pack them up with the other things and have ven tured to say to him that you would be so good as to pay his bill, which may be between 0 and 10 or 12 dollars. I will pray you to have everything very securely packed, as without this they are sure to be pilfered by the sailors and wagoners. As soon as you can send me a note of the amount by post. I will by the return of the post Inclose you a draught for It. Your kindness not only encourage* me In giving you this trouble, but has forbidden roe to apologise for It. I am still confined with my rheumatism, tbo' much mend ed. I am divided between two enter prises for the next year, the going on with my house or rebuilding my mill, but whichever I undertake should yoa receive from Italy a workman who un derstands the laying and cutting of stone I would be glad of him on rea sonable wages—that Is to say, on wages reasonably better than those of Italy, but not such as are given In Philadel phia. Our languid circulation of mon ey In this country would not permit that, and, furnishing him the subsist ence, he would not need It. I am, with great esteem, dear sir, your friend and servant, Titos. Jeffeiisox. Sixty pounds single refined sugar. One hundred pounds best brown sug ar. Eighty pounds beat Indian coffee (not the green). Twenty pounds chocolate. One hundred pounds rice. Fifty pounds of biscuit (of the kind •ailed crackers). Twenty pounds raisins. Ten pounds bitter almonds. Three gallons olive oil. Bix bottles of mustard (they are gen erally small). Three pounds black pepper. One pound allspice. One-qunrter pound nutmegs. One-quarter pound cloves. One-quarter pound cinnamon. One-quarter pound ginger. Thirty gallons of treacle (observe that this Is different from molasses and superior). Twenty-five pounds of the tongues and sounds of the codfish pickled. This article Is to be had usually at only one place In Philadelphia, I believe. Mr. Petit, my ancient mattre d'hotel, can point It out. He lives with Mr. Pas sions. Three pounds of hair powder and two or three rolls of good hard poma tum. F. S.—The want of the article of oil renders me anxious to receive this In voice as soon ss you can find a vessel coming to Richmond. Bo pleased to address them as usual to Colonel Gam ble.—Hartford Courant ('•lds and Insnranee. A leading Insurance journal says somewhat pathetically that colds cost life Insurance companies $1,000,000 a month. What they cost those who catch the colds Is of course quite be yond cavil or reclaim, but the paper goes on to warn the careless who hap pen to own policies how to be able to keep on paying premiums a while lon ger. The gist of the advice Is to avoid exposure, keep out of drafts and fight a cold from start to finish. '"The grave Is stilt very hungry," it adds. "Besides, the life Insurance compnnles would like to save a million a month." The highest medical authority In Journnl lsm gives the following: "The philoso phy of prevention Is to preserve the natural and healthy action of the or ganlsm as a whole and of the surface In particular, while habituating the skin to bear severe alterations of tem perature by Judicious exposure and natural stimulation by pure air and clean water and orderly habits of hy giene and henlth."—Saturday Evening Post. 4s Bright as He Was Bad. He was a charming little fellow of 4, pretty in his ways, good to look at, but as naughty as could be. He sat on the bottom step kicking his fat little legs and refusing utterly to obey Ills fa ther, who had told him to go up stairs several times in increasing degrees of severity. After a few minutes of this clnshlng of wills his exasperated par ent picked him up somewhat suddenly, carried him and snt him down very firmly on n chair In his room and then went out and shut the door. Silence reigned; not a sound from him for at least half an hour. Then the door opened, and* a sweet little voice called out, "Father, have you got over your tantrum yet, for 1 should like to come do\vn?"-Londou Tit-Bits. A viait - Tie firelight §Mirche fYtry nook ' And corner of the room; jjlre'. TW dtndof flimtfi magician* eeee% Bent,to *i orris* gloom. And yet I sM**r whare I lie Encircled by the light And warmth; I feel a deadly fray /yW. My every fiber smite. 1 fljf Ho danger seema to threat ma here, a | And yrt 1 cannot Bleep; Ifcr eery tool is chilled by tear* . -Jm j My unknown sisters weep. ,51 * I hear the prayers of mothers wan Who t 0 their bosoms press Their babes, imploring Uod that ha \ Leara them not fatherleas. .* X bear road rotces as at friends * £ i That hiss and shriek and rars; ME.'; Be* t casing billows hollow out jj■ For many s man a grave. 0 0 ftnhcr folk, O fisher folh, -.JJBv • 0 mothers, and O wivea, 3UV. ' The winds of death that blow afat They cut my heart like kntveat Shut out the visions storm evoked 1 would not though 1 could, For, oh, all woman's woes are mine-? ' With sorrow's sisterhood 1 kinship claim. Death's shadow dim* The fire shine while I weep And pray and with my sisters rfwre The vigil that they keep! Boston Globs. j OWNEY THE PEDDLER. 1 A Story of Irish Coun | try Life. A gray coll came over the road draw ing a cart behind him, with a man and a woman sitting on the crossboard of It The sun was white upon the road. Rushy pastures, speckled over with the snowballs of tlie hog cotton, were on each side. At>ove were mounds and hillocks covered with screens of pine and lurch. There was moNH as green as emeralds under the larches, and threads of streams dwindled through It, and brown rabbits leaped over It. Between It and tlie lower houghs black birds flew with a whir of wings and a chatter of golden tongues. "We're up against the house of the smith," said the girl In the cart. Bhe put Into the man's hands the reins she had been holding. She crncked the colt with a sharp cutting stick. He broke Into a great gallop. The ker chief flew from the girl's head. The yellow of her hair shamed the sun. The whiteness of the Illy was on ber cheek. The red of the rose was the color of her month. The forge was by the side of the lane, near the corner where the gap between the hillocks opened out upon the bog. Hlgli mountains were beyond one end of the gap. The bog was out side tho other. "Get down, Shamus!" said the girl to the man who was with her in the cart. "Tell the smith ye want a shoe to the horse. Say that the Dublin road is a hard road for a horse to cov er. I'll put a word In then. Watch him nn he puttln on the shoe. Bid him be quick, sn then srvy there's no hurry upon yo." They stopped st the smithy, tbnt wss like a witch's cavern with the murk dark that was In It. The broad wheel shaped stone was set In the ground by the door. Hard at hand was the pond for cooling the redhot Iron. The gal loping horse drew up of a sudden. The smith and his son caine out of the dark cavern. Tlie smith looked at the colt. The son looked at the girl. "More power to ye, good man!" said the smith to the driver. "We wont a shoe on the beast," said Shamus, getting down out of the onrt. The girl got down after him. He let her do It without help. The smith's son sold within himself that the stran ger must be either the girl's brother or her husband. He felt his heartstrings tighten when he thought of a husband. He had taken two steps forward to help the girl to alight. He took them backward and remained leaning iigdnst the doorpost under the lintel. Tlie tmlth led the eolt from between the shafts. " 'Tis a long rond to cover, that road to Dublin," said Shamus, pointing down the road. Ills hsnd trembled as he held It out. He ground Ills teeth In his head. " 'Twould tic a long road If one was goln It," said the girl. Owney Joyce, the son of the smith, fixed his eyes upon the girl. The color of the rose went from her Hps to her cheek. She turned ber head away. The colt was walked Into tlie forge. Owney followed. lie went to the fur nace bellows. He blew the furnace Into Arc and molten gold. The smith red dened the Iron, lie hammered It Into shape. He did to It all that was neces sary. He was careful and slow at his work. "Ye'd be a good messenger to send for Death," said Shnmus, beating Ills hand against the doorpost. The girl sat on tho bank by the road outside. There were primroses on the hank, and humming bees went nliout It and red ladybirds. The girl was look ing at them, and the tears began to run down her checks. Owen Joyce won dered why the sight of the primroses and the bees and the pretty ladybirds should make the girl cry. "The oak tlmt takes longest to grow takes longest to fall," said the smith. "But If ye're In a hurry I'll do my best to meet ye." "There's no hurry upon me." said Shamus, turning toward the girl sitting on the sunny tnk. "Except to get to our grandfather's funeral," said the girl. Tho colt was shod and brought bock to the cart and harnessed under it. "Y'ougbt let me put a clamp of Iron there upon the shaft," said the smith. "That's a dangerous crack In It." "'Tw* broken before we set ont," ■aid the girl. "An havln lasted so far It will likely last all the way. We ean't wait" The man got up Into the cart. As the girl did the same thing Owney stepped out and assisted her. "Ye're no more nor a twelvemonth married," he said to the girl. "Oh, DO," answered the girl. Tm not married at all." Such a look came Into the eyes of the yonng man that It waa as If the stars were shining In them. "Ye'll be pnsHln this way goin homer he said. The girl waa sitting on the crossboard. Sfie knitted her brows at the young man. He stood by the wheel of the cart. Ha had put his hand on her arm. "We may go home by another road," ahe said. She drew herself away. There was straw littered over the floor of the cart. As the girl moved awny her skirts swept with them some of the straw. Owney saw lying beneath It a heavy mallet. He looked at the girl. Their eyes met. The face of the girl went as gray as the face of a dead wo man. "God speed ye!" said the smith from the doorway of the shed. The long, sharp stick in the girl's hand slashed down upon the back of the horse. He bounded forward with a leap that nearly upset the cart. Away they went down the road and out of sight around the corner. The March wind Itself might scarcely overtake them. "Kaltb, the pooka Isn't In It with that colt!" sold the smith to his son. "Nor the queen of fairies with that woman!" said the son. The father put bis pipe In his mouth and walked Into the thatched house tie side tlie forge. Ills wife was In the kitchen spinning flax. "At last our Owney has set his eyes upon a girl to Ills fancy," mid the smith, with a laugh. Ills wife Btoppcd spinning. She let ber hands fall down by ber sides. "Troth, an I didn't believe there was a mother In the world with a colleen that would please Mm," she Bald. About, an hour after this two of the king's officers came riding down the road from the mountains. Tliey drew rein at the forge. They called out the smith. "Did ye happen to see a cart go by this way?" they demanded. Owen Joyce walked out of the dark of the shed nnd stood by his father's side and listened. "That I did," said the smith, "an shod a mettlesome colt under that same cart." The wind, blowing from faraway, brought with It faint sounds. "Whisht!" cried Owney, putting up his hand. "What's that?" The officers and the smith turned their heads In tlie direction of the wind. The Hounds came nearer. "Stand your cattle hack out of harm'a way, air." said Owen Joyce. "It's a runaway horse with a tangle of harness about Mm." lie ran down the road nnd past the corner. The white line of the bog track was out liefore liltn. Coming along It was the colt his father had shod. The shafts of the cart were bumping over the ground upon each side of the beaHL With every hump the colt shivered In affright. Owen Joyce stood close by a lone thorn on the roadside. He waited until tho colt wns trotting liy. He Htepped out and seized the bridle. He tied the colt to tlie skeougb and undid tlie chains that held the shafts. As he did this he noticed one or two cir cular dints upon the wood Just where It hail snapped. "Thanks be to God!" said Owen Joyce out loud. He raised a few splin ters under the dints and blotted thein cut. He untied the colt and led him to the officers. " 'TIs in a hog hole ye may go look for your man, I'm thlnkln," he snld. "What may ye have wanted with him, good sirs?" asked the smith. "He killed a neighbor In a quarrel at the fair of Cnltrn," answered the offi cer. "He got away to his sister, and she hid Mm for days. She got nwny with Mm this morning." "The man let out they were bound for Dublin," said Owney, "hut she de nied It. They got a shoe on the colt here. Father wanted them to see to tliolr shafts, hut she said they hadn't time. She said they were goln to their funeral. The shafts are lyln below on the road." "She'd lose her soul with a He to Bare her brother," said one of the offi cers. " 'Tlsn't often ye'd meet with a sis ter like that," said Owen Joyce. He made no mention of the heavy mallet. He said nothing about the dints he had seen upon the broken shafts. He walk ed by the officers to the place where they lay. The officers examined them. They said It wns clear they had snap ped away from the cart. Owen walked after the officers as they went slowly OTer the bog. keeping sharp eyes to the right and the left. They came to a hoi low fringed with rush and reed. Slime and black mud was within this bor der. "See!" said one of the officers to the other. "Here Is where the brute backed In. Look how the place Is trampled! Take enrc and don't go too close, man, unless ye want the mud to swallow ye up!" They rode back past the smithy. Owen Joyce followed them. "Ye were very glib glnln Informa tion," said his father to him when the men were gone. He did uot like this spirit In his son. "The young woman meant all that to be told," snld Owen. "If she didn't, she'd have held her tongue." "She'll not talk much where she is now," said the father. The next morning Owen went to his father. "Give me what's cotnin to me," he ■aid. 'Tin tired of the life hern. I'll bqy an ass an cart packed with delf ware an go thravel." The father was willing to give him his portion and let him go out Into the wotM and forget the girl who was swamped In the morass. Owen got the blessing of his parents and went forth to see the world. He struck across the bog and over every road that branches from the track led his little gray ass. And every rabln he first came to on each separate road he asked the folks If they had seen a yellow haired woman passing that way In company with a white faced man. If they said yes, he went that road until he could go no farther. Then he came back with a sadder coun tenance than he had before. He went to and fro over Ireland seek ing that which he could not find. And the aloe black hair upon his head Imgon to whiten, nnd tho light of youth went out of his bine eyes. At last he almost forgot what he was searching for. The dullness of age crept upon him. He and his little patient beast grew gray together. One evening they came Into a village on the shore, aud the sea was spread out la-fore them. Green Islands rose out of It. nnd foam flashed from Its break ing billows. It wss the eve of the feast of Patrick, and the peddler had Pat rick's crosses to sell to the mothers for their children. A little child came over the sandy street to Mia awl said: "There Is a woman Jicrc who wants to buy a cross for inc." He drew the old gray ass over the way, and It was hilly, and he knew It was hard upon the creature. He felt heartsick of wandering. "I'll go home to the west," he said to himself as he crossed tlie road. "It la good for n man to die among his own." He stopped before a doorway, where a woman was standing. She wan a worn woman, not young, faded yellow hair was lying upon her forehead. "God save ye, good man!" ahe said to Owney. "Where did I see your face before?" "I think It was In a Connnuglit smithy," sold Owney Joyce. And MR weakness and age went from him In a for the woman he had spent his life looking for was before him. "Ye stopped to get a shoe on a colt that didn't want It." snld Owney. "An your cart wan hangln on Its shafts by a few splinters. An ye had a great mal let to smash through them when the right minute came, which was at the edge of a qunkln morass. An ye sent the colt racing homewnrd with the shafts at his heels, while you stole away Into safety with a man escnpln the gallows. But, my woman, only I cut out the dints left by your mallet In those snme shafts liefore the king's of ficers put sn eye on them It might lisve gone harder with ye." The womnti for got the child and Its Patrick's cross. She stood silent, looking at Owen Joyce. "Where Is your brother now?" asked Owney. The child wns patting the ass, feed ing It with tufts of fresh green grass which she gathered from a garden by the path. The woman led Owney awny. She brought him to a grave yard off the street. An old. wind worn clispel stood In the midst. There wss a sheltered corner, with sweet violets. A mound rose out of tlie violets. "My brother an his wife are lyln here," snld the faded woman. "An In my rnbln out In the street I've reared Ills children for him." "Then I think It's time that ye should roar children of your own," said the peddler. And by the time Patrick's eve next came around the faded wom an wns sitting liy her husband's hearth In the thatched house beside lier Con nnught nmltliy. And her own child was sleeping upon her bosom.—Mainly About People. What He Spoke. A young Phllndelphlan who was horn and raised In the Fourth wnrd snved enough money to pay the expenses In cidental to a European trip, and by strict economy the trip wns strung out to a period of a little over six months. As his funds had run pretty low he came home 111 the steerage with a lot of foreigners. The Immigration agents, with their Interpreters, were wide awake. The young Phlladelphlan Is very dark, nnd he was mistaken for a foreigner. One of the Interpreters entile up to him and said, "Mocesh moureet po l'olskl?" "They're trying to string me," thought the Fourth ward man. "I'll keep It up." So he shook his head. The Interpreter was asking him If he could speak Polish. Then he changed to Kusslniv asking, "Mocsesh govorcet po Housskl?" Again the supposed foreigner shook his head. "Redden ale Yiddish?" naked the interpreter. This wns followed liy another shake of the head. Then, in or der. the Interpreter asked, "Parlez votis Frnncals?" "Sprechen ale Dcutnch?" and "Parlnte Itallano?" A nogntlve shako of the head followed each query. "For heaven's sake, what language do you speak?" exclaimed the Interpreter. The supiiosed foreigner laughed. "That's the stuff," he said. "Why didn't you ask me that first?" Tlie In terpreter nearly collapsed.—Philadel phia Record. tt'mn as a Ptaalat. Wngner's Latin tutor tried to teach him to play the "Frelsehutz" overture, but declared that nothing would come of blin. Wagner wrote: "You may go to Jericho with your piano teaching! I shan't play any more." But "the man was right," con tinues Wagner. "In all my life I hnre never learned to play the piano proper ly. Thenceforth I played for my own amusement, nothing but overtures, with the most fearful fingering. It was impossible for me to play a pas sage clearly, and I conceived a great dread of all scales aud runs."—"Life of Richard Wagner." STOPPED THE TRAIN.' AN INCIDENT OF TRAVEL ON A CA NADIAN RAILWAY. n. Knil.rrr JumN n tho Brake# Wkn He Saw a Big Salmon Honk ed, ana the Paotengen All Filed Oat to See the Plah Lasted. The trnln wss whirling along at a good rate for a Canadian train. It was the Quebec express from St. John and Halifax, and the passengers were Idly gaslng nt the beautiful scenery In an ticipation of the breakfast that was awaiting them at the next stopping place. For miles here the track of the Inter colonial railway runs parallel with the Mntapedla river, one of the best salm on Ashing streams In the Dominion nnd the one from whose Icy waters the Princess Louise brought to gaff what Is said to be the largest salmon ever killed by a woman. The country Is of a kind to stir the soul of the sportsman and make his breath come short and quick at the thought of trying his luck amid such glorious surroundings. At times the railroad runs for half a mile or so on the very brink of the rapid little river, the embankment being walled with stone to prevent Its sliding Into the wnter. Then as the river takes a turn It Is lost sight of, and the train plunges Into the deep forest, through which the sparkling waters are soon seen again. The next moment you are plunging along with the Matapedla under your feet. This morning na the Quebec express burst upon a long stretch of river one of the passengers whose eyes were ea gerly directed along It saw an eighth of a ntlle ahead the silver glitter of a splendid salmon leaping high out of wnter. The next moment he heard the wheexe of the steam brakes Jammed on hard, nnd the train was brought to a sudden stop. Alarmed at first, lie snt waiting for the crash of a collision. But he saw nothing In the faces of the excited pas sengers to confirm his fears. Every one wns standing up and peering from the car windows, yet the anxiety was only that shown by people who are waiting to see a horse race or a base ball game. Catching the attention of one excited man Just as the cars wero coming to n standstill, the mystified passenger asked him what was up. "He's struck a fish," the man shouted back as he piled out with the others, leaving the mystified one to follow nlong about ns much In the dark as be fore. Once outside, the cause of tho com motion was quickly made plain. Ev ery man, woman and child In the flvo cars of the express train and the train hands as well had hustled out nnd tak en up places on the brink of the Mata pedin. On the other side of the stream stood n tall, dignified mnn In tweeds. In his hnnds was a fishing rod bowed almost double by the strength of tho big salmon that lind taken the sports man's lure. At his side stood an In dinn, gnlT In hand and closely watch ing every movement of the hooked fish. The silver flash that had caught tho eye of the passenger a moment before had not escaped the notice of tho watchful engineer nwny on ahead In Ills cnb. He saw that the salmon had taken the fly, and Ills sporting blood wns aroused. His one thought, then was to see the end of the magnificent struggle he knew was to follow. Ho he slammed the throttle shut and clapped on the power brakes. Most of the people In the trnln were Canadians, nnd they suspected what wns to do. A glance from the window confirmed their Impression, and In a few moments more the whole tralnful were out by the river's side watching n thrilling battle. It wns certainly an unusual spectaclo to behold a hundred or more persons standing there amid the wild scenery, silent and following breathlessly every turn of the life fight that game fish was making, seemingly for their ex press enjoyment. The man In the tweeds paid not the slightest apparent nttcntlnn to the crowd across the river, which at this point wns about 150 yards wide. He Just attended to busi ness. nnd he had his hands full. The bringing to gaff of a hnrd fight ing salmon has often been described, so It Is not necessary to tell of the val iant struggles this Matnpedla fish made to break the silken line or tear the fenthored hook from hla flesh. lie worked as hard for his life as ever fish did, but steadily the skillful person In tweeds reeled him In. Inch by Inch at first and then foot by foot lie wns brought nearer to the deadly steel In the hands of the Indian. At last the Indian fell to his knees, and, reaching out the gaff ns the an gler brought the fish enrefttlly within reach, there was a flash of gleaming scales, and the guide Jumped to his Tect, holding high a 40 pounder for the In spection of the s|>cllbouud knot of travelers across the river. They look ed nt It for a moment, and then there went up a spontaneous, ringing cheer, whereat Mr. Dignity In the tweeds tin bent nnd, taking off his eap, Ito wed low In graceful recognition of the tribute to his skill as a taker of salmon. Then the locomotive screeched "Toot, toot I" the conductor shouted "All aboard!" and the sporting tralnful were soon being hurried along toward the almost forgotten breakfast,—New York Bun. Looking Ahead. Mamma (reprovingly) Gertie, did you tumbl? Into bed without saying your prayers? Gertie—Yes. mamma. You see, I •petted I'd be pretty tired tonight, so I said un encore after my prayers this mornlug.—Fuck.
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