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Mowers, weary amt brown and blithe
what 1* the word mnthtnks jo Know,
Endless over-word that tho Scjtho
Bings to the blade* of bn low* V
Berthes that *win< In the grass uml clover, \
Soroothlny. still, they eny as they pass;
what Is the word. that, over and over,
Bings the Soytbc to the flowers and grass?
. "Hush. ah. hush!" the Scythes ore saying,
"Hush and heed not, anil fall asloup:
Mush," they say to lhe (trusses swaying,
‘ Hush," they sing to the clover deep!
"Hush"—‘tls the lullaby Tlmo Is staging—
"Hush, and heed not. for all thlncs puss
"llttsh, ah, hush!" and tho Scythes uro singing
, Over the t lover, over tho grass!
—Andrew I,ang.
Geralda’s Delusion.
BT MARION LEROY.
CHAPTER I.
i : “Arthur is wolcoino to aclmlro hor
If ho chooses, only it is so very ab
•urd!"
“Mo it is, my dear; but men are so
dense. How that poor, dear, weak
minded wife of his over mado Miss
Blako's acquaintance I huvo never
been able to discover; but any one
could havo taken in Kitty Macdonald. ”
Elsie Conway opens hor baby-blue
eyes wide, and ceases to tako an ab
sorbing interest in tho shining buckle
on hor pretty little shoo.
“•Taken inP’ What words you use,
mother!” she Bays bluntly. "You
and I do not ltko Miss Onralda Blake
because—well, becuueo sho is,a little
too handsome, and Arthur admires
her too much to ploasd us; but I sup
pose she is only a dangerous char
acter from our point of view.
She is certainly a very accomplished
woman and an admirable governess.”
“Talk sense, Elsie—you can when
you choo-«o,” she says coldly. “You
know that it id not as a governoss
that I care to consider Mias Blake,
or that 1 wish to get rid of her, but
as a stumbling-block in my path, a
dangerous rival for you."
Though she is not a little impressed
by hor mo ther's earnest tone. Elsie
Conway's fair face fltishes brightly
and her blue eyes flash as sho says
rathor defiantly:
"No rival of mine, mothor. Arthur
Is a very good follow in his way, but
I have no wish to undertake tho ,
training of his two siokly children, 11
m
U;
S'-;
“No wish to bo mlstross of tho
Larches, to osoapo ull the petty
: miseries of poverty in such a position
as ours, to have carriages and horses,
earte-bianche at your mlllinor's, and
a goodly balanoo at your bankP You
alekonmo when you talk such child
ish, sentimental nonsense, Elsie. I
am not a roan, I am your mother;
and I know theso things are as dear
|o you as they would be to mo, or to
—to any woman who respects her
aolf. ”
Elsie laughs, in spite of herself, at
tho tragic passion of her mother’s
face and the Intensity of her tone.
'Then, as Lady Conway rises, indig
nant at such Ill-timed levity, and
walks over to the open French win
dow, tho girl follows and says ooax
ingly;
“Forgive mo, mother. I was rude
and disrespectful, and all that sort
of thing, I know, but you were too
awfully ridiculous. You talk as
though you thought that I—Elsie
Conway, your daughter—without a
penny in my pooket or a paid-for
gown to my book, could actually re
fuse my rich and handsome cousin.”
••You sppke as though you would,”,
"Lady Conway says, the lines of the
eager aristocratic face, which had
once been strikingly handsome, but
* which has a hard, pinched look now,
relaxing a little as she speaks.
WfW- a^aui »uu ttnuKos nor
head.
Pf ‘ “Never— never —*■ never!” she ro
il . peats with solemn emphasis. "I
should say, 'Yes, and thank you
f. r. kindly, sir,’ it he wore only good
f ' ■, enough to ask me; but, take my word
Cor it, he never will. He likes me
In the same kind, caroless way that
g ' he likes Diek, but be would not
■f... think of me as his wife it there were
i,>no (jlcralda Blake in the world; and
IV as it if-”
She sweeps the long lace curtain
#: back with a swift movement, and
^ ' points with a rueful triumph at a
it ; ‘ couple who are moving towards thorn
|' up the tree-lined avenue, talking ear
nestly and evidently quite uneon
ft ' aolous of any other xtresenco than
1 That they are a handsome pair and
' well matched oven Lady Conway can
11k- not in truth and justioo deny, though
f; , ahe turns abruptly away as if the
H _ eight of them flllod her with anger
I'..'/ and disgust. A tall, fair-halrod, blue
pl;•! syod man, with a clear-featured, reso
IP lute-looking face whloh may harden
jSjfy*-,' to stubbornness at times, but which
fAA is only brightly eager now, and a
woman in whose severe, classical
^ ' beauty it is absolutely impossible to
ii, find a fault, are the persons spoken
. ;; ■ Of*
Elsie Conway, who is in all proba
B bility no younger than her uncon
eolous rival, is called a girl by every
s? one who sees her and habitually
jjt thinks and siteaks of herself as such;
. - but no one ever applies that term to
i" Geralda Blake, partly no doubt be>
| , cause her position at the Larches as
governess to Macdonald's two mother
’■v; , less children takes her out of the.
ranks of ordinary girlhood, but us*
* ■ surodly also in a large measure bb?
y*f cause there is such a dignity of
womanhood about her. such a quiet
grace and air of controlled power.
fiSvi The moon has risen over the tops
ft of the tall trees and shines down upon
te the two earnest faces. The watchers
»,•;/. can see clearly as by the light of day
the flush on Arthur Macdonald’s face
•Mi:"' and almost the eager sparkle in his
Kr ordinarily tranquil eyes as they seek
5 - to meet Miss Blake’s quietly s rerted
'glance. .
I;/ “Mother, he is making love to her
! now!” Elsie cries, pinching her
V : mother’s arm. and speaking la: an
X excited. wbis|ier. “I am sure of it,
$|i.: as sore as though I could hear what
thoy are saying; and really, one can
not wonder at his taste. She U
beautiful, mother, startlingly beauti
ful, even in that plain black gown",
sho looks liko a queen, does she not?’’
“She knows how to set off her
figure to tho best advantage,” Lady
Conwuy says, with feminine blttor
noss. It is the noarest approach she
cun make to admitting tho beauty of
tho woman she so cordially detests,
and slio makes tho admission reluc
tuntly enough. “I believe she has been
an actross or a dancer, Klslo; every
raovomont strikes mo as a pose for
effect; sho has the unmistakable air
pooullar to that sort of people.”
"Oh, mothor. sho is so thoroughly
well bred, I should say—so aristo
cratic! But that is absurd. Half
tho aristocrats would like to look
like Miss Blake!
Lady Conway docs not answer. In
truth sho Is too angry to speak, and
j knows that, if Elsie chooses to be
I impracticable, it is only waste of
time to argue with her; but she
thinks it hard that, when she has
boon planning and scheming and
fighting hard in her daughter’s In
terests, that daughter should refuse
her evon a show of sympathy in her
defeat.
"She is such a more butterfly, so
foolish and so frivolous, that I do
not think she cares,” the ill-used
lady communes with herself in bit
terness of heart. But in this suppo
sition she does her daughter gross
injustice, and shows herself much less
koon-wlttcd and quick-sighted than
.she has always bollevod herself to be.
Elsie is quite alive to the loss she
has sustained. She is well aware
of the value of tho prize
that has slipped through her
Angers, and she regrets it as much
as Lady Conway could wish. Sho is
by no moans a vain girl, though she
knows herself to bo a very pretty
one, always sure of partners at a bail
und oagor escorts aud admirers
everywhere.
But partners and admirers are not
always convertible into husbands,
and as it happens that Miss Conway’s
eligible suitors have been
few, she has fallen in
with charming roadinoss with
her mother's plan for marrying her
to her wealthy cousin Arthur Mao
uonaki, and roadily accepted bin
invitation to bo at the Larches to
wolcotpo him home.
For some tlmo after his return the
hopes of! mother and daughter rose
high. The young widower had
evidently conquerod his grief and
was brightly eager to take up the
dropped thread of his old life. Lady
Conway and Elsie were almost
strangers to him, for the late Sir
Peter, govornor of an obscure and
far-away dopondenoy of the British
crown, and a poor man for his
position, had only allowed himself
and family a trip to the old country
twico in the whole course of his
marriod life.
But. strangers though thoy havo
beon, tho young man welcomed his
cousins with such frank cordiality,
and paid Elsie so many outspoken
and outragoous compliments, that
tho girl learned to blush and dimple
prettily at his approach, and Cady
Conway was mentally engaged from
morning till night in ordering Elsie’s
trousseau and inviting the wedding
guests.
It was a pleasant delusion while it
lasted, but with Elsie it had not
lasted long. The first time she saw
her cousin and her cousin’s gover
MWKUU IUO BUI'
prised admiration in Arthur’s
eloquent face, she felt a sharp pang
of doubt and fear assail her; the
seoond time sho • watched them with
a jealousy-sharpened scrutiny that
let no word or look or faintest
change of voice escape her; the
third time, she was absolutely sure
her cause was lost as she is to-night,
and almost as philosophically re
signed to her fate.
Elsie thinks she can almost read
the words that shape themselves on
Arthur Macdonald’s lips. Evidently
their conversation, whatever its sub
ject may bo, has reaahed a crisis
now. Goralda’s face is paler than
usual, her lips are closely set, and
there is a look almost of tragio pain
in the dark violet eyes that look
almost black beneath tho level brows.
Suddenly Arthur bonds towards
her and takes possession of both
long slender hands. She draws
quickly back, the pain in her face
changing, Elsie thinks, to something
like fear; and the girl, in her
anxiety to hear and see, now pushes
the shrouding curtain hastily aside.
Tho movement betrays her, the
rustle of the silk and lace reaches
the absorbed pair; they look up,
and see the yellow head and rosy
face of Miss Conway.
All tho blushing done on the oc
casion Elsie and hor cousin manage
between them—the former grows
rod with vexation, Arthur with a
masculine consciousness of the senti
mental part he has been seen to play.
,}t.ut Miss Blake is apparently no
0k>rB embarrassed than if she had
been discovered giving music lessons
to the youngest of her pupils. There
"* i not the faintest flush on her classio
ico, and, though she quickens her
steps a little when she sees Miss
Conway, she moves with her usual
serene and somowhat stately grace.
“All alone, Elsie?” Arthur called
out. with rather over-acted ease and
cheorfplnoss, as ho reaches the
veranda steps. “You little recluse,
to shut yourself up in sulky solitude
on such a night as this!”
“There is such a thing as solitude
a deux, as perhaps you may have
heard. Arthur,” tho girl says
demurely, though thore is a mis
chievous sparkle in her big blue eyes
that belies her innocent accent.
“Mother is in thero; and I wish she
were not,” she adds, in a quick
whisper, as she snatches suddenly at
,7 • l';> t . .‘V- • . .
■; ^’ * ' • * ’• ’TV* ;
■ spray of jasmine just above her
cousin's head, and brings her rosy
lips close to his ear. “She is in an
awful bad temper to-night; she and
I hare had several squabbles already.
I should stroll in the other way and
avoid hor if I were you. ”
There is an unmistakable and good
naturod significance in the girl’s
whispered warning; and the young
man thanks her with a quick grate
ful glance atftl a sudden pressure of
the plump little hand, even while his
handsome features harden into a
haughtily intolerant expression, and
he answers with careless loudness—
“Lady Conwoy has you in leading
strings, little girl, and very properly
too. I dare say you deserved your
scolding—oh, Miss Blake?'’
He turns pointedly to the silent
Geralda, who answers the appeal
with a sweet, perfectly unembar
rassed smile.
At the sound of Arthur’s clear
raised voice Lady Conway comes, sud
denly forward; she utters Geralda
Blake’s namo, and raises her gold
glasses to her eyes and survoys that
statuesque offender with an exaggor
I atod display of shocked disapproval
that causes Arthur Macdonald to
bite his under-lip savagely, and
nearly sends the irreverent Elsie into
convulsions of suppressed mirth.
Lady Conway does not speak for a
second or so, perhaps proudly con
scious that there is something more
awful than words In that frigid stare.
Geralda endures it with a look of
calm unconsciousness; but Arthur
grows Impatient at last
“Are we natural curiosities, Aunt
Eliza?” he asks, with a short laugh.
“Surely you have seen us before?"
Lady Conway drops her glasses
and turns to him then. There is
something awe-inspiring in her face
and voice as she says, with sorrow
ful solemnity
“We have not seen you since din
ner, Arthur; is it possible that you
have spent all those hours in the so
ciety of Miss Blake?”
CHAPTER II.
There is something unspeakably
insolent in the question and the way
it is put
Elsie flushes to the roots of hor curlv
locks and cries in a quick remonstrant
tone, and with a deprecatory glance
from Geralda to her cousin
"Oh, mother, as though anything
oould be more natural than taking a
walk on Buch a night as this! 1
think Miss lilake and Arthur were
very sensible people!”
Lady Conway does not even seem
to hear the feeble explanation. Mr.
Macdonald however puts his little
cousin gently but decisively out of
the way.
"You are a kind little girl, Elsie,”
he says, in a tone of tranquil good
nature, but his face has grown sev
eral shades paler, and there is an
ominous glitter in the frank blue
eyes; "but you are only a little girl,
and must not interfere between your
mother and mo. Lady Conway—turn
ing to the elder woman with rather
alarming calmness and courtesy—
"you were pleased to ask me a ques
tion just now—a question I shall be
most happy to answer when T quite
understand its drift”
Lady Conway is not timid in any
sense of the word; but for a moment
she is half disposed to regret her
rash speech and the awkward posi
tion into which her jealous passion
has betrayed her.
&ne Knows weu tnat sne has no
shadow of a right to dictate to or
find fault with the rich and indepen
dent cousin whose guest she is and,
as she glances from his set stern
features to the proud serenity of his
companion’s strikingly beautiful face,
she feels a crushing conviction that
she has helped to bring about the
very catastrophe she would have
given a good year of her life to avert
She bites her lip sharply, even
while'she makes a desperate effort to
force a complacent smile and smooth
her ruffled brow. Conciliation and
propriety are the only cards left in
her hands now.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
The Ueeltne of Sooth-Sajrlnjr.
The decline in the credit and honor
of soothsaying dates in a considera
ble measure, perhaps, from a certain
performance of John Galeazzo. duke
of Milan. He had a soothsayer. One
day the reader of the stars came to
him and said: "My lord, make haste
to arrange your earthly affairs.”
"And why Bhall I do that?” asked
the duke. "Because the stars tell
me you are not going to live long.”
"Indeed! And what do the stars tell
you about your own lease of life?”
asked Duke John. "They promise
me many years more of life. ” "They
do?” "So I have read them, my
lord.” "Well, then,” said the duke,
"it appears that the Btars know very
little about these things, for you will
be hanged within half an hour!” He
sent the soothsayer to the gallows
with promptness, and lived many
years afterward himself. Star-read
ing fell into dipuse in Milan from
that time.—Argonaut.
Encouragement.
Nervous Lady Passenger, to deck
hand—Have you over scon any worse
weather than thU. Mr. bailor? Deck
Hand—Take a word from an old salt,
mum. Tho weather’s never very bad
while there’s any feemales on deck
a-inaking henquiries about it.—Pick
Me-Up. _
Ammunition.
Mrs. Bitter—What kind of ammu
nition do they use in those magazine
guns?
Mr. B—Poetry, 1 guess. All mine
has been fired.
No Wonder.
Grummey—Mis3 Kittish's beauty is j
quite intoxicating. !
Glanders—That is because she j
smiles so of tea—Truth.
IN THE OZAKKS.
RAPID DEVELOPMENT OP
SOUTH MISSOURI.
In Addition to Its Climate and Beanie
Attractions It It tlia Home of lllg
Red Applet and Peaches.
If questioned on the subject the
majority of people would probably
say that the beauties and wonders of
the United States had long ago been
discovered and described a thousand
times over, and that all its garden
spots havo boon as long known and
cultivated. But they would be .far
from the truth, for there are leagues
and loaguos of tillable land and other
leagues and leagues of beautiful
scenery that are still held from the
world by forbidding surroundings
and on account of inaccessibility to
commerce and travel. No farther
away than the heart of the Ozark
region In Northern Arkansas and
Southern Missouri is a region that
has been almost a terra incognita to
the more progressive civilization
until within the past ten years.
Already its star shines with a
prophetic brightness that means
much for the future, it is along the
line of the Kansas City, Fort Scott
and Memphis railroad that the most
progress towards future prosperity
has been made. There are through
out this region many of the treasures
and attractions that nature has else
where scattered sparingly, but which
are here brought together, and she
has poured them out with lavish
hand.
The lands here are sheltered alike
from tho cold winds of the winter
and the hot blasts of Juiy and August,
and in many localities is the fairest
scenery, beautiful streams teeming
with fish, game in abundance and a
soil that seems to have been spe
cially combined in nature's labora
tory for the growing of fruits. It is
not alone on top of the oarUi, in the
soil and woods, that the riches
cV^.tvd. It has bocri o^id thr.t Ihc'c,
was no', room on top for all the fa
vors to bo stored. Of the mineral
wealth the future has unquestiona
bly much to toll. Of the rocks much
is* ivuuwii, uuu «3jiuuu*iiy ui iLiu uuyx,
for who has not hoard something of
the but partly explored cave in Stone
county, Missouri, In which stands a
mountain of the beautiful material?
There are other caverns also holding
a wealth of the marvelously beauti-'
ful stone.
The Ozarks are one day to be the
summer resort of the Central West
ern states, and already the region is
rapidly becoming the breathing
place of Southern invalids and the
resort of people of leisure from Mem
phis and the cities beyond. Among,
those who have established summer
homes there is Mr. Newton Krb of
Memphis, who calls around him
many of his friends, who with hun
dreds of others find their way to
these hills every summer to hunt and
fish, to enjoy the salubrious air, the
crystal waters and the delightful
scenery. The most wonderful river
in the world is here, having its. rise
whore the road from Kansas City to
Memphis crosses the boundary line
between Missouri and Arkansas, and
the road runs for some distance
along its banks. There are else
where streams which sink suddenly
into the earth and are lost to view,
but where exoept in the Ozark region
can be found one that rises out of the
uai m, ui uuuo u mu grown riverr
But it la as a fruit growing coun
try that the Ozark region is to be
especially famed. It has the soil,
gravelly loam, with a red clay sub
soil: an altitude of from 1.200 to
1,60.) feet; the climate, free from
killing blasts of winter and wither
ing winds of summer; an abundant
rainfall, and springs and streams
everywhere. These are the theoret
ical advantages, but experience has
shown that t'.ey give all that is
promised, for the apples produced
are larger and smoother than those
of wew York or Michigan, and they
have a superior flavor with the best
keeping qualities. It is the very
home of tho. peach, for the best to be
found in the market, not excepting
those of California, como from tho
trees which hnr_e T*<*d intelligent se
IceLlou and care hare. The “yellows”
is unknown among them, and the
curculio, the gouger and the borer
are seldom found. What is more,
and best, the peach crop nevor fails.
All tho fruits common to the temper
ate zone are said to grow freely and
yield abundantly.
At Olden, in Howell county. Mo.,
is the 8,000 acre fruit farm so widely
known. This groat orchard stretches
away on either side of tho railroad,
and it is a rare sight to see. The
fruits from the Olden fruit farm com
pose the greatest attraction of the
Missouri section of the exhibits in the
horticultural building at the world’s
fair. It is planted to apples, peaches,
pears, plums, cherries and berries.
In 18*0, when but a s-wall part of th®
fa m had come into be.-.iing, the
company which owns it shipped away
20,000 boxes of peaches and 12,000
orates of berries. Nearly half tho
expense incurred up to that time was
returned to the company from the
crop of one year. The success that
has attended the opening of this one
farm has been tho cause of other
e Oorts in tho same direction. Other
lurge fruit farms are being planted
mid the cheap lands along tho same
transportation line are in demand for
the first time since they were bought
from the government Smaller or
chards all along tho road within the
favored territory ore repeating the
experience of the Olden farm.” The
secretary of the Missouri state hor
ticultural society, Mr. L. A. Good
man says that small fruit plantations
pay from $50 to $7 5 per aero,and peach
orchards from $10J to $150 per ncre.
One of tho present advantages
which the Ozark range country has
> ‘
over tho older fruit growing sections
is the price of land. Good fruit land
can be had at from $ 2 to $5 an aero.
The best can be bought for $10.
Where is the man who has the
energy and ambition necessary to
make a success at farming of any
kind who cannot see the brightest
P9ssil>ilities when he can surround
himself with such conditions as exist
here at such a price? There are
fortunes here awaking the right kind
of men. It is not strange that this
country has been so long left unde
veloped when we consider that tho
modern farmer is dependent upon
railroad transportation for his ability
to make more than a bare living.
The Ozark country has the soil,
water, climate, and all that is neces
sary to produce the fruits which
meet with many vicissitudes in other
sections of the country, but until of
recent date it has had no markets.
All the advantages of nature count
for little without markets and trans
portation. The building of • tho
Kansas City, Fort Scott and Memphis
road was the turning point in the
possibilities of the part of the Ozark
region which is now attracting so
much attention. It has placed Mem
phis and the cities beyond, as well as
St. Louis, and Kansas City within
vioy rcc-b, zr--}. center.': furnish
markets which will always take all
the fruits offered, at all seasons. An
other ten years and this will be a
garden spot indeed.
WHO WERE THEY?
Knew They Came From Vienna, and Be
lot Ignorant About Austria.
Of all the interesting visitors I
have seen so far were three men
walking down Broadway a few day
ago, says a writer in American
Women.
There was a delightful uncertainty
in the placing of their nationality.
They were not English, French, Gor
mans or Americans, and scarcely
Russians. I wonder can any one sat
isfy my curiosity after this descrip
tion. They were only medium height,
tremendously broad across their
square shoulders and deep in the
chest.
.mu >y:uku ui uiuir suuuiuers accen
tuated the slenderness of the lower
half of their bodies, and they walked
with a peculiar swinging1, springy
step that wasn't military as I know
it. Their hair and eyes were brown,
and their clear-cut foatures very reg
ular, and very unlike any type I have
ever studied. ■
Their clothes did not fit them, as
do the American’s, with that ex
pression of smooth plumpness, nor
as the Frenchman’s meagerly, nor
yet as the Englishman's full and
roomily; but with a sort of compro
mise between the English aud Ameri
can.
They seemed cut on quite a dif
ferent though quite as sn^art a pat
tern as the English tailor’s most ap
proved. These men wero not Polish,
for Poles are very like Frenchmen
in their dress, so I compromised on
Austria, and concluded that they
were archdukes merely to account for
their splendid bearing.
We see and know so little of tho
higher type of that great Eastern
kingdom that I settled on the incon
nus as nothing less than very smart
Viennese.
A Proper Distinction.
“How do you pronounce the word
•fecit’ that artists put on their pic
tures after their signatures?” asked
Hawley.
-It depends on the artist,” replied
Critic us. “With some men I should
say feo-sit, with others, fake-it”—
Truth.
And too Mnoh.
The Hon. Mrs. Mudd—Thore is nc
credit in you American girls being
so crazy after our titled Englishmen.
Miss Americanus Summers—Cer
tainly not we have to pay cash.—
Truth.
The Loop.
The world famous Loop above George
town, Col., only 50 miles from Denver, on
the Union Pacific System, is the most won
derful feat of engineering in America.
Great Shoshone Falls.
Shoshone Falls, on the Union Pacific Sys
tem, is the only rival of Niagara in ibe
world.
Froni June 1st to September 80th a free
side trip lrom Shoshone (station) to Great
Shoshono Falls and return will be accorded
parties holding tickets between the Missouri
River or Denver and Portland, via the
Union Pacific.
How He Got Sumner'. Autograph.
A small boy once saw Charles Sum
ner s frank on a public document and,
avaricious of autographs, straightway
sat down and wrote to him, saying:
“Uy the aid of Webster's unabridged,
the Latin and Greek lexicons, and the
assistance of my high school teacher, I
have made it out to be your name. If
that is so, and you can do it again,
please do it for me.” The senator,
amused by what the flippant in these
days would call the gall of the youth,
replied: “I am glad to learn that you
have so many helps to education. It
was my name. I can do it again, and
here it is. Yours very truly, Charles
. Sumner.”
Throe Harvest Kzcuraloa. South via the
Wabash Railroad.
On Aug. 22nd, Sept. 12th and Oct. 10th
the Wabash will sell round trip tickets to
all points in Arkansas, Texas, Tennessee
(except Memphis), Mississippi and Louisiana
(except New Orleans', at one fare, plus *2.00,
good returning 2u days from date of Ea'.e.
For tickets or folders giving a description
of lands, climate, Ac., call at Wabash office,
1508 Farnam Street, or write
G. N. Ci.attox,
Northwestern Pas*. Agent, Omaha, Neh.
Mrs. M. O. W. Oliphant will contri
bute an article on Daniel Defoe to the
September Century. She says that no
man in his age was a more complete
paradox than Defoe. “His fame is
world-wide, though all that is known
of him is one or two of his least pro
ductions.” , He was fifty-eight years of
asj,e at the time "Robinson Crusoe” waa
written, and he was then a man who
had fallen and failed, and had made
but little of his life.
i' V "■ .
u !
AT THB FORTUNE-TELui
»h. L»d, Dwi^rv,,,. 1
Number Inform... ***
The lady who entered «, i
meat, of the fortune^}*
before noon had red hafo .
of reserve force that w„ .‘n4»«i
Ing. It was evident that ti, *7
on hand was of the dee^t ■
to her. inasmuch as her . 0#,e«
fixed expression and hrr J,t1bfci‘
were firmly set. With *, “>• I
she strode into the ?ni®‘lc “*««
seated herself stiffly .»? ro°®. ,
her hand to the clairvoyant
Detroit Tribune. y#nt’ th*
“Beveal to me.” she loftily dw.
“my future.” UJ directed,
The fortune-teller darted . .
glance into the strong face beLT ‘
and bent attentively over I
stretched palm. J r “e °»V
“It is veiy Plain, she quietly
served, “you wiU ^ marriRl!,
Ihe brow beneath the duel?
auburn curls contracted in a frn„ "*
“Yes.” the clairvoyan contin^
“there is a distinct break
line of hymen. You are desthlu'
bk^wo?-men Wlthyourwi%S!
The red-haired lady’s tnn. i
**Ah, yes. The first husband will
die under sad circumstances, butvml
wdl be consoled and made happy^l
the devotion of the second ” m *1
as if i'be ruddy trenl
which had escaped from the elaW
ate coiffure and depended witchinjlrl
beside the shell-like ear was trffl
Wing, but it might have beenth
play of dancing sunlight
“But I will make sure.”
“Do so.”
The red-haired lady watched with
unfeigned eagerness while the for.
tune-teller consulted a horoscope and
a pack of cards.
“As I thought The facts hava
spoken. You will marry twice.”
The red-haired lady breathed hard
“All have their sorrows,” gently
suggested the clairvoyant. 1
The red-haired iady bit her flayer
nail j
,“6ne dollar, please,”
“Hey?”
uuuur, f
“Not by a jugful.”
As the red-haired lady rose (rota
her seat her manner had not lost*
particle of its majesty.
'•One dollar, indeed! Well, I guess
not Do you think I came here to
pay a dollar for a lot of old informs
tion? Two husbands! The ides!
Why, I myself know of more tbsu
that without anybody telling me.
Yes. ma’am. You might be infer
ested to learn that I buried a fourth
husband as long as sis weeks ago.
Married twice. Why don’t you try
to tell people something they don't
know already? You make me drowsy.
You ought to have lived ten years
ago. You’re away behind the times.”
This sunlight kept right along
dancing, but the red-headed lady was
gone like a dream that has fled.
A. Careless Diagnosis.
Dr. Liddell’s morning levees were
crowded beyond description. It was
his pride and boast that he could leel
his patient’s pulse, look at his tongue,
sound him with a stethoscope, write
his pnescription and pocket his fee
in a space of time varying from two
to five minutes.
kjuq aay an army mail was buu««
into the consulting-room and under
went what might be called the in
stantaneous process. When it was
completed the patient shook hands
with the doctor and said:
“I am especially glad to meet yon,
as I have often heard my father, Col
onel Forester, speak of his old friend
Dr. LiddelL”
“What!” exclaimed the doctor,
••are you Dick Forrester’s son?”
“Most certainly I am. ”
“My dear fellow,” exclaimed the
doctor, “fling that prescription into ;
thq fire and sit down and toll nw
what’s the matter with you.—Yankee
Blade.
Dr. Wmpi the Surgeon.
Wasps, according to a scientific
paper, are natural surgeons. A gen
tleman becoming annoyed by the
persistent buzzing of a wasp about
his head, knocked it down with a
newspaper. It fell through an open
window upon the sill, apparently
dead. Only apparently,, for a K
seconds later a large wasp flew on w
the window sill, and, after buzzing
around; the injured one a 8ec(®;(
two, began to lick it all over. At
thig treatment (which may have nee
a kind of massage) the sick w P
seemed to revive, and his friend t
dragged him gently to the eagft
grasped him around the body
lew away with him.
A Quaint AdverU.em.nt
“The house where one change
one’s sandals” is the title of a s
store kept by a rabbi in New
city. In a Hebrew circular tue
keeper of the place says: “«
ancient custom of Israel to c0 .
all things by drawing oft the
and so I call upon all my *rie“ , #
love the ways of our forefathers
some to my tent and draw o }
old shoes and buy new ones- {or
me this will be redemption, a
you it will be shoes which w
tor length of days.”
1 Making a Shoe.
In the making of a shoe 1 eac],
are made, and only exports ^
step aro employed at it. ln tnrert
of rapid competition, manufacture^
have no use for a dilatory w ^
neither can they afford t0 .^ers
with a novice. Henco aU
on a shoe are experts aft0 they
days' experience, and the rea
are transferred into exports s ^
ly is that they do but a veiy
part of « shoe.