ADIEU! You bare a heart of Are and gold— Nor (told nor Are for me la bright: I would forget those days of old. Which seemed to show your heart aright Kot mine to mix amone the crowd Who worship you. and bend the knew To -ins vour praises long and loud— Love's silence is reserved for me Mt love, that is both dumb and deep, is freely given as 'tts true: What secret still the fates miy keep I know not—but I aiy, adieu! i say adieu because my port Must be to leave that whirling train, W’bere every moment is a smart .And every day a year of pain. —Longman's Magazine SCARLET FORTUNE. BY H. HERMAN. CHAPTER III—Continued^ "Yew’ll tell on us?” he hissed, i • Yew’ll raise the plains agin us? ••Yew’ll tell on yewr father and yewr cousin?” His hand twitched convulsively and assumed the shape of a wild bird’s claws. His head shrank down upon his shoulders and his whole body seemed to quiver with fury. He made a panting step towards his daughter. “Yew’ll raise the plains agin us, would yew? Yew’d have us lynched? Would yew? Yew’d have us hanged. Would yew? Waal, I aint so darna tion sartin-” His rage stopped bis speech; he seemed to foam at the mouth, and stretched out an arm as if in command to his nephew. Lucy stood there.solemn and queen like as before. Her face shone in the moonlight with a white and brilliant glory, and the younger ruffian bowed his head before her glance. “I’ll do all that, dad,” she said. "I’ll do it alL I ain’t afraid o’ yew. Yew daren’t kill me as yew killed him.” George Maclane raised both his arms above his head and clenched his fists. He drew up his .long gaunt figure until he stood on tiptoe. Then he opened his hands and stretched out his bony fingers. In the mean time his face was alive with muscular distortions; his teeth were clenched hard, and his thin lips were drawn out full. He made several convulsive efforts toward his daughter, his long arms waving wildly, until at last with a cry that seemed to make the night horrible, he rushed upon the girl and caught her by the shoulder. A slight sound of pain escaped her as the tender flesh was bruised by the brutal contact, but she stood still, and looked him straight in the face, eye to eye. The murderer shrank before that brave glance, and his wretched pur pose trickled from him and left him a foaming coward, as he met his child’s calm gaze. His fingers loos ened slowly, and his arm dropped by his side. With heaving breast, and clawing his head with his long nails, he retreated a step or two, and the pent-up savagery in his breast found an outlet in nearly hysterical sobs. “I reckon yew know what yew’re threatenin’,” Dave said quietly. He was no less infuriated than his uncle, but he knew better how to suppress his rage. “If this man is ’lowed to live, the first thing he’ll do on gettin to the plains will be to de nounce us, and I don’t see as it's much better to be told on by him than by yew." Lucy stooped down and knelt by Chauncey’s side. Her dainty fingers traveled over his wounded and blood besmeared face, and gently brushed the gore-clotted hair from his bat tered forehead. “It’ll be weeks and weeks,” she said, “afore he can move. Yew can get sacks of gold from heyar, an’ be off away east long afore be can say a word agin yew. I’ll stay behind and see it all out when yew’re gone.” She rose and walked to the water's edge, and dipped her handkerchief in the cool rushing stream; then she re turned and began to moisten the suf ferer’s face. The elder Maclane stood by grim and voioeless. "Let her have her way, George,” Dave said quietly. “I £uess It’ll be best to let her have her way.” The tall frontiersman cast one sav age glance at his daughter, then turned on his heel and strode away. CHAPTER IV. During the height of the season of 1860, London society was moved with pleasurable excitement, by one of those occurrences, which make real life more sensational than fic tion. The aged earl of Cleve had died in the course of the previous year. His two eldest sons had been killed in a terrible railway aecident, the old nobleman, thoroughly prostrated by the shock, was soon laid by their side in the wault at Chauncey Tow ers. The earl's youngest son, the Honorable Herbert Chauncey, had succeeded to the estates of his fore fathers, but the young man had gone abroad seme years previously, and his family bad been left without tid ings from him for some .time. It was only after a prolonged and difficult search that he was discovered ‘lead ing a nomadic life on the Northwest ern prairies. He was recognized be yond possibility of a doubt, but he had, in a muiHerous conflict.of which he had no recollection, reoeived some terrible wounds on the head, and had lost the faculty of memory. The past was a blank to him. He had uo re membrance when be came to the West, where he was wounded, by whom or under what circum stances. Ho could not even compel his mind to unburden itself of some of the common secrets of his earlier life. He had no remembrauce of father, mother, brother, nor of his own boyhood. With all that, so said report, he ] was a cheerful, blithe and pleasant filing fellow, extremely intelligent I and kindly and straight and handsome as an athlete of heroic times. Eleven o clock had already struck, one beautiful June morning, and Lady Evelyne Wynter, only daugh ter of the marquis and marchioness ol Gwendale, was still tossing sleep lessly on her down pillows. The golden day was peering gaily through a little chink of the drawn curtains, and a bright streak of opal light fell upon the lady's face, as she turned and rolled, throwing off the blue satin, quilted coverlet, which fell upon the Aubusson carpet, and left her in all the white glory of the rich lace that enveloped her rounded limbs. Yawning like meaner mor tals, she stretched a pair of creamy, velvety arms, and locked her dainty fingers above her head, adding a sec ond frame to the handsome face, which was already surrounded by her wealth of glossy brown, silken hair. One rosy foot was peeping shyly from beneath the clinging half-transpar ent fabric, the big grey-blue dreamv j eyes, were gazing into vacancy, and ! a sigh, barely audible, but still dis tinct and unmistakable escaped from my lady's lips. The fact was that Lady Evelyn was perplexed. Conflicting currents of thought agitated her ordinarily so calm and even mind. They bad ban ished sleep from her couch, and had left her weary and nearly distressed. Lady Evelyne Wynter had, for nearly a month already, been en gaged to be married to Mr. David Maclane, a young American gentle man, of reputed immense wealth. The young man was one of the lions of the season, and Lady Evelyne Wynter, whose twenty-six summers had warned her that it was time to look about for a husband, bad taken a rather morbid pride in securing, us her prize, the sensational hero of the year. The daily papers, and the weeklies too, for that, had described the young Westerner with a fervent eulogy and a graphic picturesqueness which would not have been out of place in telling the story of a god of mythology. He was the hero of a hundred fights, and as many hair breadth escapes, and, like all heroes, he was as gentle as he was brave and strong. In these very words, that fashiona ble journal, “Albert Gate" had de scribed young Maclane, and if the writers on “Albert Gate” were not in a position to know everything of 1 everybody, who was? ] I am Inclined to doubt that such a thing as a real serious attachment was at all in the nature of Lady Evelyne Wynter. But she had been very fond, in fact, fonder than she herself imagined she could have been, of Herbert Chauncey. He was barely two years her senior, and they had known each other since child hood. As a boy, at Eton, he had spent his pocket money in buying her bouquets, and she remembered well how proud she was of him, when, as the captain of the eleven of his school, he vanquished Harrow. Lady Evelyne had returned home from a ball with the broad summer day, and had not been able to banish Herbert’s revived memory from her mind. She babbled about him while her maid undressed her; she found the subject more interesting while the girl brushed her hair; and when the young woman was dismissed, and Lady Evelyne was left by herself to dream of fancies, Herbert Chauncey's picture would persistently intrude itself upon her not unwilling mental eyes. During the first quarter of an hour, or so, she thought the freshly called-up reminiscences very nice, Herbert had been a sweetheart—one of the many moths that had fluttared round her brilliant light. Now he was back, and she would see him again, and as he was an earl, and, doubtless, unmarried, they would be able to speak freely together. It was then that Lady Evelyne remem bered that she was engaged to Mr. David Maclane, and, for the first time, she considered that engage ment rather a bore. It would be very nice to be the wife of a million aire hero, but—Countess of Cleve— there was a peculiar stirring Anglo Saxon ring of dignity and unutter able pride about that, by the side of which the parvenue gold was decid edly vulgar and despicable. And, perhaps—who knows—might she not be Countess of Cleve, for the asking —aye, even without the asking? Lady Evelyne was lying drowsily, moving one hand about the streak of golden sunlight that broke into the room, and playing with the scintillating atoms that danced in it. when the door of the chamber opened and Lady Gwendale appeared upon the thresh old, followed by Evelyn’s maid. She was a stately personage, whose iron grey hair sat well against a kindly face. “My childl my child!” she ex claimed. “Do you know that it is past 11 o'clock.” , “WeH, ma,” replied Lady Kvelyne languidly, “what of it?" “What of it, my dear?” was Lady Gwendale’s remonstrance. “What of it? How can you be so forgetful. The duchess’ garden-party commen ces at 2, and you have arranged to sit to Delauria at 12. That portrait of yours will never be finished.” “I will not go to Delauria's to day,” Lady Evelyns answered pout ingly, “aud I’m not so sure that I shall go to the garden-party.” The maid had. in the meantime drawn the heavy curtains, and the bright sunlight, softened by the lace hangings within, streamed all over the room. Lady Evelyne closed her eyes again, whilst her mother held up her hands in amazement “Not go to the garOen-pnrty ?” she exclaimed with a nonplussed air. “Sot go to the gardsn-party!” Why. what has happened? Tea are not ill, 1 hope?” Kvelyne held out a pair of pleading’ arms, and the old lady approaches! her daughter, who drew her mother's face to her own and kissed It affec tionately. “No, ma. dear,” she whispered. “Pm not ill, but I do not want to go out. I want to stay at home and think.” Lady Gwendale's temporary anxie ty changed to amazement. That her volatile daughter should desire to think, no matter what the subject, was in itself an anomaly, but the tone injwhleh the wish was expressed, the tender pleading of the voice for apparently so trivial a cause, told my lady—a shrewd, experienced woman of the world—that something was not altogether as it should have been with her child. A moment's reflection guided her on the right track for the solution of the problem. 1 “I know what troubles you, my dear," she said. "At least I think I da Herbert has returned to Eng land, and you have been thinking of him.” The young lady’s eyej brightened: she took her mother’s plump hand between her own soft fingers and stroked it caressingly. Her eyelids dropped dreamingly for an instant, then she looked Lady Cwendale straight in the face, and with a smile dimpling her cheeks, nodded her head twice or thrice. “I thought so,” the old lady ex claimed, with a suppressed sigh. “Really, my dear Evelyne, you must become a little more settled in your intentions and decisions. You ,aro now engaged to Mr. Maclane, and it can make very little difference to you whether young Cleve has returned or not. ” Lady Evelyne pursed her lips. “But ma," she whimpered, “it does make a difference. Herbert and I were engaged to one another once, and-” (the young lady raised her self and threw both arms around her mother’s neck) “you know he is now the earl of Cleve.” “Herbert is certainly in a better position now than when he left Eng land,” Lady (iwendale admitted, gently disengaging herself from her daughter's embrace, “and I have no doubt that many ladies with mar riageable daughters will consider him a desirable son-in-law. As to myself, 1 must decline forming an opinion on the subject till I have seen the young man. ” “But you will form an opinion, won’t you, ma. when you have seen him?” the young lady suggested again drooping her eyes and stroking her mother’s hand with her own, “and if that opinion is favorable—.” The little fingers wandered nervously over my lady’s palm, and the grey blue eyes danced with a pretty glit ter. “If that opinion is really fav orable,” Evelyne repeated with a captivating emphasis, and the dainty t.ngers travelled forwards and back wards, whilst she sought in her mind an expression which did not readily present itself to her tongue, “don’t you think countess of Cleve a pret tier name that Lady Evelyne Wvn ter?” Lady Gwendale’s reply was solemn and ceremonious— “Mychild!” she exclaimed, “you can bear no better name than your own. ” “I did not mean that, ma,” pleaded Lady Evelyne. “I meant that if I married Mr. Maclane I should still be Lady Evelyne Wynter, but if I married Herbert I should be the countess of Cleve.” “You really must not think of such a thing, my dear.” Lady Cwendale remonstrated. “You are engaged to Mr. Maclane, and your father and I both consider it a desirable engage ment. You are well aware we had sufficient reasons for closing our doors upon young C’hauneey, °and I have learned nothing which would induce me to alter my opinion or in tentions on the subject Come, now! brush the matter from your mind. Think no more about it.” [TO BE CONTINUED.] Guinea Fowls as Poultry Protectors. That noisy, quarrelsome bird, the guinea fowl, with its voracious ap petite and destructiveness of flower and kitchen gardens, would not, on general principles, seem to he a profitable bird for the poultry yard. It is so indifferent a parent that its young have usually to be hatched out and reared by a foster mother in the shape of a hen turkey. It was with surprise, therefore, that a New Yorker summering in the town of Monroe, Maine, discovered that the farmers of that region commonly kept a pair or more of guinea fowls among their other poultry. This was done for the purpose of keeping away the hawks, the boldest of which would not venture to swoop down upon a yard of which any of these mottled, round-bodied, helmet-headed fowl were tenants. Whether it is their belligerent appearance, or strident cry, or manifest readiness to fight that daunts the hawk, cer tain it is that whenever one of these aerial pirates, reconnoitering the farmyard from on high, comes earth ward in swift, narrowing circles, it needs only the loud squawk and bristling defiance of the guinea fowl to cause him suddenly ,to remember an engagement in the next township, and to send him scurrying off in haste.—New York Sun How He Ate Them, During a trial in New York a wit ness was examined regarding a cer tain dinner of fried oysters, in which the defendant participated. “Did the defendant seize upon them with avidity?” inquired the counsel. “No. sir,” answered the witness, “he chucked them down into his esophagus from the end of a three tined fork."—Texas Siftings. 2lnrl>| the flrtvt. • n old age Infirmities and weakness hasten to clotj the Rap between us and the cave. Happily sclent Iflc research and pharmacat skill have allle I thomselvev In furnishing us a reliable means of ameliorating the all* roenta Incident todecllnlog years, audof re newing sailing physical energy. Its name Is Hostetler's Stomach Bitters, a widely com* prehenslve remedy In disease, and an lues* tlmable blessing to the elderly, the feeble and the convalescent. Rhettmu'lc ailments, trouble with the kidneys and lumbago are among the more common allnteuls of the aged. The e are effectually counteracted by the Bitters, whlc • Is likewise a preven tion and curative of malarlsl complaints, dyspepsia, constipation and biliousness, it Is highly txomoUve of apyetUe, sleep and, the acquisition of vigor. Aacteat Preservation of the Dead. Herodotus gives a good description of the manner in which the early ethopi ana preserved their dead. Having thor oughly dried the corpse, they plastered it over with a paste made of gypsum and then painted the face and exposed parts so as to make them look as nat ural as possible Dead bodies served in this manner remained intact for hundreds of years.—St. Louis Republic. Somebody’s flood. To make our own troubles tbs means of aelping the troubles of others is a noble e. fort for good. A well illustrated instance of this kindly sympathy is shown in a letter from Mr. Enoch 1.. Hnusoom, School Agent, Marshfield. Me., an old Union Soldier. He says: "It may do somebody some good to state, I am a man of 60 and when 40 had a bad knee and rheumatism set la. 1 was lame three years and very bad most of the time. I got St. Jacobs Oil and put it on three times and it made a cure I am now in good health. Will Kill Quicker. An electric motor attachment has been applied to the Gatling gun which promises not only to more than double the destructive capabilities of that par ticular machine, but to effect a great advance in the efficiency of all machine guns. The motor is detachable, is of one horse power, is very small, weigh- ! ing but a trifle over fifty pounds, and ( is placed in the breech of the gun, am ply protected. The motor increases the 1 present rate of firing, l,200sbots amin utr, to more than 3,000 shots a minute. A Gossip Core. It is told of Hannah More that she had a good way of managing tale bear ers. It is said that whenever she was ' told anything derogatory to another I her invariable reply was, "Come, we will go and ask if this be true." The effect was sometimes ludicrously pain ful. The tale bearer was taken aback, , stammered out a qualification, or beg ged that no notice might be taken of the statement, lint the good lady was inexorable; off she took the scandal monger to the scandalized to make in quiry and compare accounts. , Beware of Ointments for Catarrh That Contain Mercury, | As mercury will surely destroy the sense of , smell and completely derange tlie whole system when entering it through the mucous surfaces. Such articles should never be used except on prescriptions from reputable physi cians, as the damage they will do Is ten fold to the good you can possibly derive from them. Hull's Catarrh Cure, manufactured by F. J. Cheney & Co.. Toledo, O., contains 110 mer cury, and Is taken Internally, acting directly upon the blood and rnneous surfaces of the system. Id buying Hall’s Catarrh Cure be sure you get the genuine. It Is taken Inter nally, and made in Toledo, Ohio, by F. j.. Cheney A Co. Testimonials free. tSTSold by Druggists, price 76c. per bottle. The Modern Invnlld Has tastes medicinally, in keeping with other luxuries. A remedy must be pleasantly acceptable in form, purely wholesome in composition, truly bene ficial in effect and entirely free from every objectionable quality. If really ill he consults a physician; if consti pated he uses the gentle family laxa tive, Syrup of Figs. Much bending breaks the bow; much un bending the mind. SIX TUNS or RAT PER ACRE, i That is seldom reached, but when Salzer's Extra Grass Mixtures are sown his is possible. Over fifty kinds of grass and clover sorts Largest grow ers of farm seeds in the world. Alsike Clover is the hardiest; Crimson Clover is the quickest growing; Alfalfa Clover is the best fertilizing clover, while Salzer’s Extra Grass Mixtures make the best meadows in the world. If Too Will Cut Till* Out and Band It With 14c postage to the John A. Salzer Seed Co., La Crosse, Wis, you will re ceive eleven packages grass and clover sorts and his mammoth farm seed cata logue: full of good things for the farm er, the gardener and the citizen. w 1 he neb which escapes from the hook seems the largest. For the relief and cure of a cold in the head there is more potency in Ely's Cream Balm than in anything else it is possible to prescribe. This preparation has for years past been making a brilliant success as a remedy for cold in the head, catarrh and bay fever... Used in the initial stages of these complaints Cream Balm prevents any serious development of the symptoms, while almost numberless cases are on record of radical cures after all other treatments have proved of no avail. — Beelzebub was the first “oldest inhabi tant." He was the father of liars. .... Who steals goods is called a thief; who steals dominions, a ruler. Authors Dltllks Tholr Own Fame. It is a curious thing how those who write famous books or create well known noras de plume develop an aver sion to them as times goes on. Edward iiellamy, for example, absolutely shud ders when one talks of "Looking Back ward" in his presence. There is no surer way to offend Bret llnrte than to refer to him as the author of • ‘The Heathen Chinee." Will Carleton can not imagine why people should associ ste "Over the Hills to the Poorhouse" ■o prominently with his name. Mrs. liurnett dislikes too much mention of "Little Lord Fauntleroy" in her pres snee, but courts any praise of her story >f "Vegabondia," with which so few, in comparison with those who know lier famous juvenile story, have any knowledge. Charles Heber Clarke has s strong averson to any association of Isis once famous nom deplume of "Max Adler" with his name. Charles 0. Ice land's ire is aroused when one speaks of “llans Breitmann” as his best piece { at work. E. I*. Roe never could under- i stand why people read and bought "Opening of a Chestnut Burr" in pre ference to his later and what he deemed Ids better books. Eugene Field feels that he has written fifty poems that are superior to "Little Boy Blue.” John Hay's feeling are hurt when one intro duces him at a dinner, as did a chair man at the literary supper recently, as the author of "Little Breeches" Hen ry Ward Beecher used to say that “to liear some people talk you'd imagine 1 sever did a thing but write ‘Norwood,’ which Mr. Bonner called a novel."— Hob. _ Numerous unsolicited testimonials daily received liy its proprietors clearly demon itrate the fact that the reputation of Ur. Hull s Cough Byrup, the infallible cure for ill affections of the throat and chest, has uiffered no diminution in the last quarter >f a century. Malt Another, than Hang. J. X, 11 ill. who was recently sentenced ;o death for murder in Pittsburgh, wears t silver tube in his neck. After killing he woman for whom he is to be hang id he cut his throat. The doctors latched up his wound; therefore he can ireathe with the aid of the tube. It is bought that to hang him successfully ;he tube will have to be removed. Keep Salvation Oil in the gymnasium. It s a sovereign remedy for cuts, strains, cruises and sprains, to’wbleh acrobats and ithletes are liable at all times. It is the greatest cure on earth for pain. 35 cts. How to Mend Crockery. A valued correspondent says: "Be fore being allowed to get dirty or greasy tie all the broken pieces in their ilaces nicely with any kind of a string hat suits, then put in an iron or tin lish that can be put on the fire, pour n as much milk as will cover the frac .ures well, put on the fire and boil for, lay, 10 minutes, and the whole opera ion is complete. Don’t undo the wrap >ing until the dish is completely cold, LU<1 if yours hold as ours do, you will all it a success."_ Have Yon Asthma? Dr. R. Schlffmann.St. Pact. Minn., will mail i trial package of "schlfftnann's Asthma Cure” free to any sufferer. He advertises by giving It away. Never falls to give Instant relief In worst cases and cures where others full. Name this paper and send address lor a free trial package. __ Aged Woman Walk* Over BOO Mile*. Mrs. Anna Peterson of Denver, (10 rears of age, walked into “Pueblo at - j'clock Saturday morning’, having come in foot from the Cherokee strip, 050 niles, with the exception of a trifle over 100 miles, which she rode on a train. She wedt to the strip at the opening, out with starvation staring her in the Face she set out for Denver and averaged more than 20 miles every day she ivalked.—Pueblo (Cola Special. The principal causes of sick headache, bil iousness and void chills are found in the itomach and liver. Cured by Beecham's Pills._ The helping hand is one that has as the price of a meal concealed in the palm. The oldest known poem is the song of Miriam. _ Hegeman’s Camphor lev with Ol jrcerlae. Cures Cluppeil Bunds and Face, Tender or Sore Feet, Chilblains, l'lles, He. C.O. Clark Co., New Haven, CU Good will, like a good name, is got by many actions, and lost by one. 11 llaaooa's Magi* Corn Salvo.” Warranted torureor uiuney refunded. Ask your druggist fur it. price 15 rents. The coldest bodies warm with opposition; the hardest sparkle in collision. Wlthont Change to Hot Springs Ark. The Missouri Pacific Railway Is now run ning a stepping car from Omaha to the Hot Springs of Arkansas without change via. Kansas City, Wagner. Ft. Smith and Little Rock. Leaving Omaha daily at 10 p. m. For further information, tickets or berths, call at depot 15th and Webster streets, or company's city offices northeast comer 18th and Farnam streets, Omaha, Xebr. Tuos. F. Godfrey, J. O. Pmu.ippr, P. and T. Agent. A. G. F. and P. Agent. If thou desire to be wise, be so wise as to hold thy tongue. Royal Buckwheats. For feneration* it baa been the on ton to mix the batter for buckwheat f cakea with yeast or emptying*, retain- . ing a portion of the batter left owr from one morning to raiae the cakea for the following (lay. It kept too warm, or not naed promptly, this hotter becomes exces sively sour an?V Cmtmiegm* ' ' - Riving in struction* how to or der bv mail. Postage free. You can get the belt bargains of dealers who push our shoes. WORN NICHT AND DAY. es Mold* the wont rap* rj tur« with eaae under ait M cliYuulucia. ypfwt Adiujtnat, Comfort utdC'un New Patented >proT«MBta illtt* tr^d eatalocM mh9 rules for eelfiaoaaura. meat sent security Male! a. V. MOUME N«i. CO., U4 Brood. way* *•» Tod QUj. h e A CM II E.B ™ ■■•*•* ••■ »' * *r V.:wbi.ph<. Wk^r-r-'w.Tu: WNni »**«. wl.rli -II I.HirJl.* foil. SoJUf r u. IC.1.K9 * ..>.N Y. W. U. of prewtol S«od us r«, II SS or K.3# mud w. .HI ship to you. chmrcN paid, m handsome one pound, < wo pound or five pound box of our Beat < hocolau** and Bonbons. Watch you.- friend’s eyes when she opens iho box. WOOi>* WARD. Confectioner. Council Bluffs. Iowa. If afflicted with •ore eyea, use KMJMWAWLfiaiVJWSSSf •FREE GANDY {Thompson’s Eyo Water. SV. S. I’.. Omaha-}, luhl. When Amnrwlui Advvrtl.rnuiit i Kindly .llrutiuu this rajK.',