UP AT
The old folks, the own folks oh, how I'd llko to spy 'oral
Like to go tlilH ml mi to and JoHt s'prlso 'cm with a cull,
Bill and Mnry Ellon, ycH, nnd Martini Jnno and Hlruin,
Dan and I'M and Sarah and Mohltubel and all.
Like to go to 1 Brum's llko wo used to on a Bunday,
Drive tip In the carryall and find the otherw there,
Shako oil' age and worry, If 'twas only Jest for one day,
Like to uo to IIlrani'H nnd bo young and frco from caro.
Like to have a dinner taste the way them dinners tasted,
Health In ovevry platter, plumb from turkey down to pie.
Appetite for everything, and not a goody wasted,
And no mean dyNpopsy to bo fought with by-and-by.
Like to light my pipe up and be sociable and lazy,
Loaf out through the oarnyard with the chickens and tho dogs,
Talkln' crops and gossip In tho autumn sunshine hazy,
Leanln' on the fence-rail, looking down at Hiram's hogs.
Breeze across tho corn field Bcttln every shock n-twltohln',
Blackbirds whistle soundln' from tho bushes on the hill,
Click of dish and laughter from the doorway of Uie kitchen,
And the pigeons oooln' on tho old barn window sill.
Leanln' on tho fence rail, blowln' smoke wreaths with the fellers,
Guess!!!' weights and prices of the hogs that grunt below,
Talkln' crops and prospects whllo the Sunday sunshine mellers
Don't that make a picture of the kind you used to know?
Hear the horses stompln' as they rustlo In tho stable,
Hear the dog a-barklu over yonder by tho ridge,
Hear the girls a-laughln' as they're clearln' off the table,
And a team a-rattlln' as it goes across tho bridge.
Leanln' on tho fenco rail, talkln' com and rye and weather,
Drlftln' out of one thing to another, fancy free,
With the old home round you and the home folks all together
Jest a common picture, but it's awful dear to me.
Jest a common picture, but It's got a heart-touch In It,
Youth and hope and kinship and the good old homely joys,
And all Time has brought me I would give to bo this minute
Leanln on the fence rail talkln' gossip with the boys.
Like to go to Hiram's as wo used to on a Sunday,
Drive up In the carryall and find tho old folks there,
Shake off age and worry, If 'twas only Jest for one day,
Like to go to Hiram's and be young and free from care.
-People's Homo Journal.
THE AVE IMGIiMG
fT? YOUNG Englishman stood on
it,., .. Ill I
im: ua wi u nuiiiiiK vesNui com
ing Into the harbor of Honolulu.
Ho had been living In the wilds of Aus
tralia for three years, ami was mak
ing his first return to tho land of his
birth, whore a pair of bluo eyes were
waiting to give him a lover's welcome.
The vessel was several days over
duo, and his brow clouded when ho
was told that the American ship
which transferred tho Australian pus
nengers had sailed the day before.
That meant a month or more in this
out-of-the-way island. The man paced
the deck and said unkind things of
fate.
Ho passed to the wharf, gave his
bag to a native boy, and followed him
"MR. CHAMI'TON, MY DAUQHTEIl."
Into the town. They passed Htrange
little shops where sleepy-eyed Mongo
lians and fat native women sat, while
half-breed children played In the door
ways, babbling In the musical lan
guage of the Island.
He passed the day on the veranda
of the quaint little hotel, Inhaling the
fragrance of the vines and flowers.
Luscious mangoes, flgs, guavas and
tamarinds were within reach of his
hand; tall palms and cocoanuts in tho
dlstauco bowed with the slight breeze,
as If giving him honorable welcome
to thlB paradise.
That night thero was a ball In tho
hotel, given In honor of a British man-of-war
lying In tho hnrbor. A native
band played weird minor airs, beauti
ful women and handsome men In uni
form laughed, danced and flirted as
they might havo done in any city In
tho Old World.
But, somehow, galoty seemed out of
harmony with the soft voluptuousness
of tlila tropic Isle. Then the perfume
of a Jasmine flower, linked with tho
low notes of mellow laughter, drifted
down the moonlight air; thero was the
rustle of silken skirts, the flash of a
pair of soft, dark eyes; and ho know
the queen of fairyland had come.
An elderly man, with a slight, girl
ish figure clinging lightly to his arm,
topped at his side.
)
HIRAM'S.
SPIRIT OE PALI.
"Pardon me," tho man said, In good
English, as ho lightly brushed some
thing from the young man's shoulder.
"A centipede. You need not be alarm
ed. They are harmless, unless anger
ed." The young man bowed his thanks.
Ho was startled, not at tho thought of
tho Insect, but at the beauty of tho
girl.
"It seems there nre still disagree
able things In tho Garden of Eden,"
ho replied, his eyes upon the fair crea
ture looking up at him with Innocent
curiosity. "Everything here is so beau
tiful," ho continued, hurriedly, to hide
his boldness. "Y'ou see, I am a stran
ger among you. My name Is Cramp
ton. I am on my way from Australia
to England. Wo missed the American
ship, and I must await her return."
The other extended his hand.
"My name Is Brlckwood. Mr. Crump
ton, my daughter, Emallne."
A soft musical voice acknowledged
the Introduction, while dark, velvety
eyes looked shyly Into his. Then some
one came to claim her for a promised
waltz, and she floated away, leaving
the fragrance of Jasmine trailing be
hind her.
The two men lighted cigars and talk
ed. Crampton told enough of his af
fairs to win Brlckwood's confidence.
The elder man was Devonshire born,
and had settled on the Island when It
had a few white occupants, and had
married a full-blooded native woman,
tho daughter of a chief. Ho was now
postmaster.
Long after the dancers had departed,
Crampton sat on the veranda, pulling
clouds of smoke Into the feathery
moonlight, and thinking of a beautiful
girl with bronze skin, gowned In soft
silk and crape, her only ornament a
crown of Jasmine flowers, tho odor of
which still lingered with him.
Ho had accepted an Invitation from
her father to dlno at their cottage next
day, and ho longed for tho morrow
that he might see hor again. She
seemed a part of the music and moon
light of tlds now, delightful world.
For the tlrst time for years ho retired
that night without looking at tho por
trait in the back of his watch.
Into a vino-clad arbor of roses
Crampton passed, to bo welcomed by
the vlBlon of tho previous evening.
Again he drank in the scent of tho Jas
mine tlower, again ho wondered In
Elysium, entranced by tho luster of
thoso fawnlike eyes, again ho heard
the caressing tones of that llutellko
voice. Ho was as one dazed by some
strange spell, having Its birth In n
beauty new to him.
But when her mother came Into tho
room he felt a sudden shock, as though
ho had fallen from a height. She was
an enormous woman, dark copper In
color, with Irregular features, deep, lu
minous eyes, a broad, flat nose and
straight black hair. She woro but one
garment, a loose robo of bright red
silk.
Could this be the mother of tho beau
tiful creature who had so enraptured
bliu? Thero was no rcsemblauco savo
In hor voice, which was low and mel
low, llko that of tho girl. She sang
natlvo songs, thrumming an accom
paniment on a small lnstrumont, half
guitar, half banjo.
Ono of these songs, a wild, weird
chant, moved tho Englishman so that
ho asked for on interpretation of It
Sho told him It was tho spirit song of
tho PalL
Many years ago there wero soveral
tribes on tho Island. They wero con
tinually nt war with each other. Fi
nally two grout chiefs formed all the
peoplo Into two armies and went out
to battlo for supremacy.
The struggle was long and bloody.
Many thousands wero sluln. At last
Knmchamohu defcuted tho followers
of Oohua and drove them up tho Now
ounu vulley to the top of tho crater of
Pall. On this mountain tho last battlo
was fought and tho Oahua and all his
followers wro driven or thrown over
tho cliff.
After the great slaughter a mist
arose and began to fall like tears on
the dead. It had never ceased. And
In this mist tho spirit of Pall, tho pro
tecting spirit of tho natives, has her
homo. When any one wrongs a de
scendant of a chieftain's line tho Bplrlt
arises out of tho mist and wreaks
speedy vengeance.
While she recounted this legend the
woman seemed to bo Inspired. Her
lmmenso body swnyed back and forth
In time to her words, her half-closed
eyes burned with deep fires.
Crumpton felt his blood chill In his
reins. Tho story fascinated him. It
semcd to have some personal equation,
to bo In some subtle manner linked
with his own future.
Tlmo braided tho days into ropos of
flowers for Crampton. Tho lunguor
of the climate stole Into his blood and
lulled him to sweet security. With
Emallne he roamed about tho Island,
enraptured with its beauty and his
love of hor.
The picture of the blue-eyed Saxon
girl In tho back of his watch was for
gotten. England with Its turgid civili
zation seemed far away, unreal. He
was Intoxicated with his own thoughts.
This half-wild, Impulsive creature,
who clung to him with such simple
faith, was so In harmony with the sur
roundings, so much a part of the flow
ery little kingdom In the bluo Pacific,
that ho could not soparato her from
It, nor himself from either.
It was as If ho had always lived
this Indolent dream life. They walked
and rode and swam together. She
taught him the liquid love words of
her people, which was like the music
of shallow waters rippling over peb
bles. Sometimes they wandored to the
summit of Tall und watched tho misty
tears falling Into the depths where
slept the heroes of an almost forgotten
race. The place had a strange attrac
tion for him, and sometimes he coaxed
the girl Into repeating the legend.
But to her light heart tho tragic tale
held no charms. Sho was like a fawn
that loves to play In tho sunlight, with
out thought of the past or future. He
was sufllclent for her.
But one day there came a vessel Into
the harbor and he awoke. Ills days of
drifting wero over. He must choose
between ancestral homo In a clvlllzod
country and this half-barbaric exist
ence; take up the duties and burdens
of activity or embrace Inaction, becom
ing for good nnd all a drone In the
busy hive of tho world's life.
Ills Saxon blood rebelled at a future
so cheap, so unlmportnnt. It was a
struggle, but his decision was mnde.
It was lute In tho afternoon. Cramp
ton and Emallno had wandered far
over the Island, lingering In tho flow
ery nooks that compunlonshlp had
made dear to them. They stood now
In tho shadow of a palm half way up
the crater of Pall.
Tho sun, a chariot of lire, was roll
ing down toward tho far-stretched line
of the blue Pacific. In the harbor lay
the ship that was to sail In the morn
ing; tho ship that was to put two
oceans between them.
Ho told her as they stood there
told her with the calm, steel-llko tones
of tho Anglo-Saxon when ho has to
overcome himself, his face was drawn
and white, but with no tremor In his
voice ho told her all, his duty, his
prospects, even his engagement to the
blue-eyed girl. When he had conclud
ed she stood like a flower over which
has passed the hot breath blown from
a desert.
"Aloha nuo loa oel," sho murmured:
"Wo are ono. I live not but In you,
you are all my life. I lovo you."
Ho would havo answered her, but
no words camo to him. Llko two Btat
ues of grief they stood In tho soft sun
light Then suddenly from above they
hcurd a hissing sound. Out of the
great mouth of Pall came a breath of
steam that spread over tliolr heads
like a great fan. And In tho center of
It stood a dark cloud In shapo like a
woman. Abovo them It hovered,
reaching out long, sinuous arms.
"Tho spirit! Tho spirit of Poll!"
cried tho girl, sluicing to the ground
and hiding her face from tho light
Crampton stood for a moment trans
fixed with horror. Again he seemed
to sco tho old woman, the mother of
Emallno, ob she recited tho weird le
gend. "When any ono wrongs a de
scendant of a chieftain's lino the spirit
rises out of tho mist to wreak speedy
vengeance."
Tho words rang In his ears llko a
clarion. He turned away with a shud
der. Then tho materialism of his race
camo to his rescue. He caught up tho
girl In his arms and ran down the de
clivity toward tho sea.
Glancing back, ho saw tho shadow
following them. On ho plunged, an
awful fear taking possession of him.
Ho heard tho hissing as of a great ser
pent behind him. Loose stones gavo
way under his feet and plunged down
Into the placid waters, cooing softly
to tho stiorc. Branches and briers
tore at his flesh and retarded his
speed.
But ho struggled on with his pre
cious burden, fearing now to look be
hind. At last ho reached the shore
and plunged Into tho sea. Yet tho mist
pursued him and the dark figure bent
ominously over their heads. Out, out
into the sea he struggled.
The girl, revived by tho waters,
kissed his cheek and murmured, "Alo
ha." Tho surf lifted them on Its kind
ly bosom and boro them forward. An
other swell, and yet nnother, and to
ono standing upon the sands they
would havo been but a tiny speck on
tho distant blue.
Then the mist with tho black
shadow whirled about, returning to
Pall. The spirit was avenged. But,
clasped In each other'B arms, the lov
ers drifted out to where love Is the
password to eternal bliss. Illustrated
Bits.
THE FRIEND WHO WAS BRAVE.
She Hurt Her Friend Feeling for
Her Frlcnd'n Good.
Tho girls, Constance and Alice, wore
enthusiastic In their admiration of their
mother's collego friend, Doctor Dilling
ham. The doctor was a medical mis
sionary who had spent sixteen years
In India, and was to return there again
after her year's furlough. The girls,
listening with flushed cheeks and shin
ing eyes while she held great audi
ences spellbound with her story, won
dered if ever they could do splendid
things, too save people's lives and
win queer native orders and hold great
audiences breathless. Yet at home
Doctor Dillingham did not seem won
derful at all. She and mother Just
laughed and chattered like two school
girls. It was very queer.
Ono stormy evening the family nnd
their guest were gathered about tho
open fire. It was a "talkable" night,
und Uio girls were enjoying every mo
ment of It. Presently, In a pause, Con
stance spoke conxlngly:
"Won't you tell us, Doctor Dilling
ham, of the bravest person you ever
knew?"
"I'll be glad to," the doctor answer
ed, "but It won't be a story of India.
The bravest person I over know was
a shy, quiet girl in collego. Among
tho freshmen that year was one from
a prairie farm. She wns an ambitious
worker and a good student, but sho
had never before come In contact with
any of the refinements of life, and
rather looked down upon them. She
was careless In her dress and In cer
tain ways at tho table, and neglectful
of the little courtesies of speech. When,
after a while, she found herself being
loft out of tilings, she was hurt over
It as any girl would havo been, but
did not realize the cause of it
"Among her classmates was one who
remained loyally beside her through all
that hard year. One evening toward
the close of the last term the girl came
to her. She looked so white that her
friend was startled, and asked If she
was sick.
" 'No,' sho answered, 'but I've got to
hurt you. I lovo you so that I must.
I've been putting It on? and putting It
off, but I must do It.'
"Then she told her tho mistake that
she had been making told her, though
her voice broke bo Unit she could
scarcely speak, that people did not
count her a lady becauso of these
things that seemed such trllles to her,
and wero in reality no trllles, but sym
bols of courtesy and consideration and
unselfishness. That Is all. It was
hard, of course, but tho prairie girl
was houcst. Afterward, when she was
out In tho world, she thanked her friend
every day of her life for opening her
eyes."
"Did" began Constance, nnd then
she caught tho look upon hor mother's
face and did not ask tho question. It
was Alice who camo to the rescue.
"I think there were two bravo peo
plo," she said, shyly.
Tho doctor looked up with a quick
smile.
"Thero is no life so small that It
does not have room for courage," she
replied. Youth's Companion.
Next Stop Up.
"I see that a Frenchman has In
vented a non-collaspslblc auto tire."
"Now let him turn his attention to
a non-collapslblo pockotbook." Now
York Sun.
It would bo strange if the company
a man keeps didn't know him.
0LD
JaVoriteS
Grandfather' ClooU.
My grandfather clock was too Urg
.'or tho shelf,
So It stood ninety years oa tho floors
It wus taller by half than tho old man
Mmunlf
Though it weighed not a pennyweights
more.
It was bought on the morn of tho day
ho was born,
And wns always his treaauro and
pride;
But It stopped short never to go
again
When tho old man died.
CHORUS.
Ninety years without slumbering (tick,
tick, tick, tick),
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick,
tick, tick),
It stopped short never to go again
When tho old man died.
In watching Its pendulum swing to and
fro,
Many hours hnd ho spent when a boy;
And In childhood nnd manhood tho clock
seemed to know,
And to Bhnro both his grief and hia
Joy.
For It struck twenty-four when he en
tered nt tho door,
With n blooming nnd beautiful bride;
But It stopped short never to go
ngnln
When tho old man died.
My grnndfnther snid that of those ha
could hire,
Not a servant bo fnlthful he found;
For It wasted no time, nnd had but one
desire
At the close of each weok to be
wound.
And It kept In Its place not a frown
upon Its fnce;
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd Bhort never to go
ngnln
When the old mnn died.
It rnng nn alarm In tho dead of tho
night
An alnrm that for years had licen
dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was
pluming for flight
That his hour of departure had come.
Still tho clock kept tho time, with a soft
and muflled chime
As wo silently stood by his side;
But It stopp'd short never to go
again
When tho old man died.
Henry 0. Work.
Ilond that Made History.
A lnuwlrnrl van pa nrvn 1,
America wero on tho Southwest. Wo
were on the edge of a war with Spain
over tho closing of the Mississippi, and
under orders from Washington Wil
kinson, In command of Fort Adams,
held solemn conclavo with tho Indians
who owned the east bunk of tho big
river, and by treaty established a sa
cred postrond through their country.
It left Nashville on the old Buffalo
trace, crossed tho Tennessee at Col
bert's ferry below the Mussel shoalH,
and Btrlklng tho hills back of .tho Big
Black, cume down to Natchez and on
to New Orleans, with a branch to the
Walnut hills. Tho road was more than
a military necessity, for so many pi
rates Infested the Mississippi that mer
chants returning from New Orleana
needed a safer route home with their
money.
After it wns opened it became all
tilings to the Southwest. Methodism
went down that way in the person of
Tobias Gibson, later Lorenzo Dow toh
lowed him with the camp meeting
spirit. Old Hickory marched his army
down to Natchez over this route in
1813 and marched It back again next
spring. And from that day till near
ly our own It has been tho great cen
ter of that country's activity. Now
the railroads havo come, the settlors
have moved down Into tho valleys and
opened up poorer roads In the beds of
branches and through swamp low
lands. But the Trace Is still thero
upon Its ridges, the best road of tliom
all. Everybody's Magazine.
How ire Knew.
Newltt That was Dr. Pondruss who
wns talking to you a llttlo while ago.
He's a very learned man.
Plane He must be.
Newltt Why, how did you know!
He was only talking to you for a very
few minutes.
Plane Well, It was long enough to
make me very tired. Catholic Stand
ard. Younic Prince Oharle.
Tho christening of the infant son of
tho Frlnoo nnd Princess of Wales Is
specially interesting from the fact that
one of the names given him Is Charles.
The young prince is the flrHt of th
royal blood to bear that namo since
"Bonnie Princo Charlie."
It Was Truo Lovo.
"Are you sure ho loves you?"
"Sure! Willie sneaked a tack In tho
chair beside mine tho other night Just
os he enme, nnd he sat on that tack all
tho evening and never knew it"
Houston Post