A Young Woman'! Rummer Wardrobe.
Emma M. Hooper in answer to a cor
respondent who inquires concerning a
wardrobe for the summer (in May
Ladies’ Home Journal): “Have four
dancing1 gowns of net over silk, chiffon,
white Dresden silk and a spangled net.
White and pale blue pique suits, sev
eral fancy silk waists, a doited Swiss,
a flowered organdy, blue duck and
bright blue outing gown of twill; then !
a golden-brown cheviot for traveling;
black satin and white silk separate
skirts; shirtwaists, and a tan mohair
suit Add a pretty taffeta silk of
medium hues of changeable green, and
you have the array in which expense is
not an object ’*
A Profitable Invention.
While a great many inventors are
able to invent and perfect new ideas
but few of them possess the business
tact necessary to introduce their inven
tions after they have been patented.
Occasionally, however, an inventor is
enabled to devise a valuable invention
and is at the same time able to realize
a snug sum on the same.
One of these successful inventors is
Thomas S. Ferguson, of Omaha, Ne
braska, who has invented a bit, within
which is embodied a removable and
adjustable shaper so that oval, spher
ical or irregular openings can be drill
ed, the bit being arranged to automat
ically adjust itself as it feeds forward.
Inventor Ferguson further devised an
egg carrier which is the simplest and
cheapest egg crate yet invented and
placed upon the market and both of
these inventions he was enabled to dis
pose of to a company with unlimited
capital, the patents being procured and
sold through Messrs. Sues & Co,, United
States Patent Solicitors, of Omaha,
Nebraska.
Clarence II. Judson, of Council Bluffs,
Iowa, has received a patent for an ex
ceedingly clever device, which can be
used both as a toy and an advertising
medium. The invention consists of a
peculiarly constructed metal frame
which can be made for a few pennies
and which is adapted to hold a square
piece of card board such as an ordinary
business card, and which when thrown
backward will expell the card with a
force sufficient to send if fully a hun
dred feet straight upward, the inven
tion being practically a card shooting
gun.
Inventors desiring valuable free in
formation as to the law and practice of
patents, may obtain the same by ad
dressing Sues & Co., United States
Patent Solicitors, Bee Building, Omaha,
Nebraska.
Only Made It Worse.
A country editor,, wishing to pay a
high tribute to an old soldier vising the
village, wrote of him as the battlescar
red veteran. When the printer got
through with it it appeared next day
and the old soldier was referred to as a
‘•battle-scared veteran.”
When the soldier read the paper he
went up to have it out with the editor.
The scribe explained that it was an
error of the printer, and he would cor
rect it in next day's edition. When the
next day's paper appeared to the old
soldier as a ‘’bottle-scarred veteran,”
the printer being responsible as before.
The editor had to answer for this at
the pistol’s point—Louisville Commer
cial.
Hall*. Catarrh Cure
Is taken internally. Price, 75c.
Physiology a. She is Taught.
A 12-year old boy wrote the follow
ing composition on "breath:” ‘‘Breath
is made of air. We always breathe
with our lungs, and sometimes with
our livers, except at night, when our
breath keeps life going through our
noses while we are asleep. If it wasn't
for our breath, we should die when
ever we slept. Boys that stay in a
room all day should not breathe; they
should wait till they get. outdoors.
For a lot of boys staying in a room
make carbonicide, and carbonicide is
more poisonous than mad dogs; though
not just the' same way. It does not
bite; but that does not matter as long
as it kills you.”—Bristol Medical
Journal. _| v t | t
Three for a Dollar!
Three what? Three charmingly exe
cuted posters in colors, drawn by V(.
W. Uenslow, Ethel Heed and Ray
Brown, will be sent free of postage to
any address on receipt of One Dollar.
All who are afflicted with the “poster
craze” will immediately embrace this
rare opportunity, as but a limited num
ber of the posters will be issued. The
scarcity of a good thing enhances its
value. Address Gea H. lieafford,
General Passenger Agent of the Chi
cago. Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway,
Old Colony Building, Chicago, 111.
Slimmer Kxcureluns Via. the Wabash R. R.
( St. Louie June lSth to 15th.
HALF ) St. Louis July 2.d.
FARE J AN astaiueton Ju y 2d to 6th.
(Bull'a’o Ju.y 5th and tjth.
Now on sa e. Summer Tourist Tickets to
all summer resorts good returning until
Oct. 21st. Thos. Cook & Son's special
tours of Europe. For rates, itineries, sail
ing of Steamers and iul information re
garding summer vacation tours via. rail or
water call at the VVaush Ticket Office, No.
1415 Farnam St.. (Paxton Hotel block), or
write ti. N. Clayton, N. VV. P. A., Omaha,
Netr.
To Make Strawberry Jelly.
Boil three-quarters of a pound of
sugar in half a pint of water, pour it
boiling hot over three pints of straw
berries in an earthern vessel, add the
juice of two lemons, cover closely, and
let it stand twelve hours. Then strain
through a cloth (flannel is the best
thing): mix the juice which has run
through with two and a half ounces of
gelatine, which has been dissolved in a
little warm water, and add sufficient
cold water to make the mixture one
quart. Pour into a mould and set on
the ice to cooL
A Summer Resort Book Free.
Write to C S. Crane, general passen
ger and ticket agent Wabash Railroad,.
St Louis, Mo., for a summer resort
book, telling all about the beautiful
lake region reached by the Wabash
Railroad.
The grateful heart has music in it that
angels cannot sing._» ' -,. •?
A good character is in all cases the fruit
of personal exertion.
All About Western Farm lands
The “Corn Belt” is the name of an
illustrated monthly newspaper pub
lished by the Chicago, Burlington &
Quincy R. R. It aims to give informa
tion in an interesting way about the
farm lands of the west. Send 85 cents
in postage stamps to the Corn Belt, SOU
Adams St.. Chicago, and the paper will
be sent to ycur address for one year.
BY CLARA AUGUSTA ! !
INTERNATIONAL PRESS, ASSOCIATION.>
CHAPTER XL— (Costisubo.)
“The decree hag gone forth. There la
from it no appeal. 1 am to die. I have
felt the certainty a long' time. O, for
one year of existence, to right the
wrongs I have done! But they could
not be righted. Alas! it I had centuries
of time at my command, I could not
bring back to life the dear son my
cruelty hurried out of the world, or his
poor wife, whose fair name I could, in
my revenge for her love of my son, have
taken from her! O Hubert! Hubert! O
my darling! dearer to me than my
heart’s blood—but so foully wronged!”
His frame shook with emotion, but
no tears came to his eyes. His remorse
was too deep and bitter for the surface
sorrow of tears to relieve.
“Put it out of your mind, grandfath
er,” said Arch, pressing his hand. “Do
not think of it, to let it trouble you
more. They are all, I trust, in heaven.
Let them rest.”
"And you tell me this, Archer? You,
who hated me so! You, who swore a
solemn oath to be revenged on me!
Well. I do not blame you. I only won
der that your forbearance was so long'
suffering. Once you would have re
joiced to see me sufTer as I do now.”
“I should, I say it to my shame. God
forgive me for my wickedness! But
for her”—looking at Margie—“I might
have kept the sinful vow I made. She
saved me.”
"Come here. Margie, and kiss me,”
said the old man, tenderly. “My dear
children! my precious children, both of
you! I bless you both—both of you to
gether, do you hear? Once I cursed
you, Archer—now I bless you! If there
is a God. and I do at last believe there
is, he will forgive me that curse; for I
have begged it of Him on my bended
knees.”
"He is merciful, dear guardian,” said
Margie, gently. “He never refuses the
earnest petition of the suffering soul.”
“Archer, your grandmother died a
little while ago. My crue’*v to your
father made her, for twenty long years,
a maniac. But before her death, all de
lusion was swept away, and she bade
me love and forgive our grandson—
that she might tell your father and
mother, whed she met them in heaven,
that at last all was well here below.
I promised her, and since then my soul
has been at peace. But I have longed
to go to her—longed inexpressibly. She
had been all around me, but so im
palpable that when I put out my hands
to touch her, they grasped only the air.
The hands of mortality may not reach
after the hands which have put on fm
mortality.” f * •
He lay quiet a moment, and then
went on, brokenly:
“Archer, I wronged your parents bit
terly, but I have repented it in dust
and ashes. Repented it long ago, only
I was too proud and stubborn to ac
knowledge it. Forgive me again, Arch
er, and kiss me before I die.”
“I do forgive you, grandfather; I do
forgive you with my whole heart.” He
stooped, and left a kiss on the withered
forehead.
“Margie,” said the feeble voice, “pray
for me, that peace may come."
She looked at Archer, hesitated a
moment, then knelt by the bedside. He
stood silent, and then,1 urged by some
uncontrollable impulse, he knelt by her
side.
The girlish voice, broken, but sweet
as music, went up to Heaven in a peti
tion so fervent, so simple, that God
heard and answered. The peace she
asked for the dying man came.
Her pleading ceased. Mr. Trevlyn
lay quiet, his countenance serene and
hopeful. His lips moved, they bent
over him, and caught the name'of
“Caroline.” .'It,
Trevlyn’s hand sought Margie’s, and
she did not repulse him. They stood
together silently, looking at the white
face on the pillows.
“He is dead!” Archer said, softly;
"God rest him!”
CHAPTER XII
FTER the funeral
of John Trevlyn,
his last will and
testament was read.
It created a great
deal of surprise
when it was known
that all the vast
possessions of the
old man were be
queathed to his
grandson—his (hole
relative—whom he had despised and
denied almost to the day of his death.
In fact, not a half dozen persons in the
city were aware of the fact that there
existed any tie of relationship between
John Trevlyn, the miser, and Archer
Trevlyn, the head clerk of Belgrade &
Company,
Arch’s good fortune did not change
him a particle. He gave less time to
business, it is true, but he spent it in
hard study. His early education had
been defective, and he was doing his
best to remedy the lack.
Early in the autumn following the
death of his grandfather, he went td
Europe, and after the lapse of a year,
returned again to New York. The sec
ond day after his arrival, he went out
to Harrison Park. Margie had passed
the summer there, with an old frlf-id
of her mother for company, he was
told, and would not come back to the
city before December. •
It was a cold, stormy night in Sep
tember, when he knocked at the door
of Mias Harrison's residence; hut a
cheery light shone from the window,
and streamed out of the door which the
servant held open. J |
He inquired for MisS5 Harrison, and
was shown at once Into her presence.
She sat in a low chair, her dress of
sombre Mack relieved by a white rlb
£o# at the throat, and by the chestnut
light of the shining hair that swept in
unbound luxuriance over her shoulders.
She rose to meet her guest, scarcely re
cognizing Archer Trevlyn in the
bronzed, bearded man before her.
* , “Was Harrison," he said, gently, “it
I'is a. cold night; will you not give a
warm Wldbme to an old friend?”.
She knew his voice instantly, A
bright color leaped to her cheek, an
embarrassment which made her .a thou
sand times dearer and more charming
to Arch Trevlyn. possessed her.: But
she held out her hands, and said a few
shy words of welcome. ■
Arch sat down beside her, and the
conversation drifted into recollections
of their own individual history. They
spoke io each other with the freedom
of very old friends, forgetful of the fact
that this was almost the very first con
versation they had ever had together.
After a while. Arch said:
"Miss Harrison, do you remember
when you first saw me?”
She looked at him a moment, and hes
itated before she answered.
“I may be mistaken, Mr. Trevlyn. If
so, excuse me; but I think I saw you
first, years and years ago, in a flower
store.”
“You are correct; and on that occa
sion your generous kindness made me
very happy. I thought it would make
my mother happy, also. I ran all the
way home, lest the roses might wilt
before she saw them.”
He stopped and gazed into the fire.
"Was she pleased with them?”
“She was dead. We put them in her
coffin. They were burled with her.”
Margie laid her hand lightly on his.
"I am so sorry for you! I, too, have
buried my mother.”
After a little silence, Arch went on.
“The next time you saw me was when
you gave me these.” He took out his
pocketbook, and displayed to her, fold
ed in white paper, a cluster of faded
blue-bells. “Do you remember them?”
"I think I do. You were knocked
down by the pole of the carriage?”
“Yes. And the next time? Do you
remember the next time?”
“I do.”
“I thought so. I want to thank you,
now, for your generous forbearance. I
want to tell ,you how your keeping my
secret .made a different being of me.
If you had betrayed me to justice, I
might have been now an inmate of a
prison cell. Margie Harrison, your si
lence saved me! Do me the justice to
credit my assertion, when I tell you that
I did not enter my grandfather's house
because I cared for the plunder I should
obtain. I had taken a vow to be re
venged on him for his cruelty to my
parents, and Sharp, the man who was
with me, represented to me that there
was no surer /way of accomplishing my
purpose than by taking away the treas
ures that he prized. For that only I
became a house-breaker. I deserved
punishment. I do not seek to palliate
my guilt, but I thank you again for
saving me!”
“I could not do otherwise than remain
silent. When I would have spoken
your name, something kept me from
doing it. I think I remembered always
the pitiful face of the little street
sweeper, and I could not bear to bring
him any more suffering.”
“Since those days, Miss Harrison, I
have met you frequently—always by ac
cident—but to-night it is no accident.
I came here on purpose. For what, do
you think?” * - r
“1 do not know-how should I?"
“I have come here to te$l you what
I longed to tell you years ago! what was
no less true then than It Is now; what
was true of me when I was a street
sweeper. what has been true of me ever
since, and what will be true of me
through time and eternity!”
He had drawn very near to her—his
arm stole round her waist, and he sat
looking down into her face with his
soul In his eyes.
“Margie, I love you! I have loved you
since the first moment I saw you.
T!hero has never been a shade of waver
ing; I have been true to you through
all. My first;love will be my last. Your
influence has kept me from the lower
depths of sin; the thought of you has
been my salvation from ruin. Margie,
my darling! I love you! I love you!”
“And yet you kept silent all these
years! Oh, Archer!”
"1 could not do differently. You were
as far above me as the evening star is
above the earth it shines upon! It would
have been. base presumption In the
poor saloon-waiter, or the dry goods
clerk, to have aspired to the hand of
one like you. And although I loved
you so, I should never have spoken, had
not fate raised me to the position of a
fortune equal to your own, and given
me the means of offering you a home
worthy of you. But I am waiting for
my answer. Give it to me. Margie."
Her shy eyes met his, and he read his
answer in their clear depths. But he
was too exacting to be satisfied thus.
“Do you love me, Margie? I want to
hear the words from your Ups. Speak,
dailing. They are for my ear alone,
and you need no.t blush to utter them."
“I do love you X re her I' believe I
have loved you ever since the first.”
“And you will be mine? All my
own!”
She gave him her hands. He drew
the head, with its soft, bright hair, to
his breast and kissed the sweet lips
again and again, almost failing to real
ize the blessed reality of his happiness.
It was late that night before Archer
Trevlyn left his betrothed bride, and
took his way to the village hotel. But
he was too happy, too full of sweet con
tent, to heed the lapse of time. At last
the longing of his life was satisfied. He
had heard her say that she loved him.
And Margie sat and listened to the
sound of his retreating footsteps, and
then went up to her chamber to pass
the night, wakeful, too content to be
willing to lose the time in sleep, and so
the dawn of morning found her with
open eyes.
CHAPTER XIII.
HE ensuing winter
was a very gay one.
Margaret Harrison
returned to New
York under the
chaperonuge of her
friend, Mrs. Wel
don, and mingled
more freely In so
ciety than she had
done since the sea
son she "came out.”
one 1001c pleasure in it now, for Archer
Trevlyn was welcome everywhere. He
was a favored guest in the most aristo
cratic homes, and people peculiarly ex
clusive were happy to receive him Into
their most select gatherings.
His engagement with Margie was
made public, and the young people were
overwhelmed with the usual compli
ments of politely expressed hopes and
fashionable congratulations.
The gentlemen said Miss Harrison
had always been beautiful, but this sea
son she was more than that. Happiness
is a rare beautlfler. It painted Margie’s
cheeks and lips with purest rose color,
and gave a light to her eyes and a soft
ness to her sweet voice.
Of course she did not mingle in so
ciety, even though her engagement was
well known, without being surrounded
by admirers. They fairly took her
away from Arch sometimes; but he
tried to be patient. Before the apple
trees in the green country valleys were
rosy with blossoms, she was to be all
his own. He could afford to be gen
erous.
Among the train of her admirers was
a young Cuban gentleman, Loufe Cas
trani, a man of fascinating presence
and great personal beauty. He had
been unfortunate in his first love. She
had died a few days before they were
to have been married—died by the hand
of violence, and Castranl had shot the
rival who murdered her. Public opin
ion had favored the avenger, and he
had not suffered for the act, but ever
since he had been a prey to melancholy.
He told Margie his history, and It
aroused her pity; but when he asked
her love, she refused him gently, tell
ing him that her heart was another’s.
He had suffered deeply from the dis
appointment, but he did not give up
her society, as most men would have
done. He still hovered around her,
content if she gave him a smile or a
kind word, seeming to find his best hap
piness in anticipating her every wish
before it was uttered.
Toward the end of March Alexan
drine Lee came to pass a few days with
Margie. Some singular change had
been at work on the girl. She had lost
her wonted gayety of spirits, and was
for the most part subdued, almost sad.
Her eyes seldom lighted with a smile,
and her sweet voice was rarely heard.
She came, from a day spent out, one
evening, into Margie’s dressing room.
Miss Harrison was preparing for the
opera. There was a new prima donna,
and Archer was anxious for her to hear
the wonder. Margie had never looked
lovelier. Her pink silk dress, with the
corsage falling away from the shoul
ders, and the sleeves leaving the round
arms bare, was peculiarly becoming,
and the pearl necklace and bracelets—
Archer’s gift—were no whiter or purer
than the throat and wrists they en
circled.
;to as continued. »
CARRIED TO GRAVE IN A DRAY.
A Salclds Gambler Who Lett Unique
Instructions to Be Obeyed.
. Fort Scott (Kan.) special: Howard M.
‘Cummins, a gambler of Clinton, Mo.,
and widely known in Missouri, Kansas,
and Texas, committed suicide at his
room in the Huntington hotel in this
city the other evening by taking mor
phine. He first attempted to hang him
self by suspending a trunk rope from
the bedstead. He was discovered by
the chambermaid, but took morphine
in an hour or so and died shortly after
ward. Cummins was a brother-in-law
of R. E. Larimer, a tailor of Clinton,
Mo., for whom he left a letter. He was
a son of Judge J. R. Cummins, depart
ment commander of the G. A. R. of
Oklahoma territory and the probate
judge of Kingfisher county. He was
known as one of the most daring gam
blers of the three states, having oper
ated in all the larger cities. He re
cently came here and won $4,800 from
the gamblers, and then went to Hous
ton, Tex., where he operated a few
days ago. He returned here Friday and
had been complaining of sickness. He
went to his room before noon and was
found at supper time. He left a letter
giving directions as to the disposition
of his body. He asked to be buried here,
and that none of his relatives be noti
fied until after the funeral. He de
manded that his money be given to his.
parents, and that he be buried in a pine
box in a cheap lot, adding that he did
not believe in "giving a $30 man a $300
burial." Cummins was recently em
ployed as agent for Pete Golden of At
chison, Kan., at Weir City, Pittsburg,
Kansas City, Clinton and other places.
He was 28 years old. He ordered no
funeral, no parade, no invitations and
no display, and ordered his body hauled
out in a dray.
The Modern Demit?
Thrives on good food and sunshine,
with plenty of exercise In the open air.
Her form glows with health and her
face blooms with Its beauty. If her sys
tem needs the cleansing action of a lax
ative remedy she uses the gentle and
pleasant Syrup of Figs. Made by the
California Fig Syrup Compuny.
Gown for a Girl Graduate.
A dress of white crepon made with
a five-yard shirt interlined with stiffen
ing to a depth of fifteen inches. Hound I
waist in back, pointed in front, large |
leg-of-mutton sleeves, belt and collar j
of five-inch taffeta ribbon bowed at the j
back. Hox-plaitof the goods down the j
center front os the waist, liretelles of
ribbon lrom belt to shoulders, back
and front, with short bow of four
loops and four ends.
. , Coe's Cowgh Balsam
1* It* oldest and beau It will break up a Cold qutak*
er toaa anyt bins Giles, 11 la always reliable. Try It,
Except in the little differences iu cranki
ness, ail men are exac tly alike.
Mrs. H. C. Ayer of Kiihford, Vt. writes:
“Alter having lover 1 was very much de
bilitated and had dyspepsia so l ad 1 cou'd
scarcely eat. anything. A litt e food caused
bloating ami burning in the stomach with
pain and much soreness in my side and a
great deni of headache. My physician
seemed unable to help me and 1 continued
in this condition until 1 took Ur. Kav's
Renovator which completely cured me.”
Sold by druggists at 25 cents and tl, or
sent by mail by Ur. B. J. Kay Medical Co.,
Omaha. Neb. bend for free sample and
booklet.
Settlement day finally comes to every
man.
I 1 now that my life was saved by Plso s
Cure for Consumption.—Johu A. Miller,
Au bable, Michigan, April 21, 1895.
An empty head and a rattling tongue
go well together.
PON T let your money rust: make It
work; flOO invested in our systoni of in
vestment will earn you 12 per day. An op
portunity of a llietlnic. Address for par
ticulars Chandler & Co., Brokers and Bunk
ers, Kasota Block, Minneapolis.
Moscow, Russia, has the largest bell in
the world, 482 pounds.
It the Dab? u Cutting Teem.
Basin* and um that old and wall-triad ramady, Hr*.
Winslow's Bootuixo St Her for CbUdran Saatblbg
Most people, do not want to know the
truth, if it is disagreeable.
poing good is the only certainly hapipy
action of a man's life.
Congress declared war with Mexico, May
ID, 1840; closed Feb. 2, 1848.
Robbing a nothin
The aigrettes that we wear in our
hate are the feathers from the back,
called the dorsal feathers of the white
herron. They come only when the
little mother bird is getting ready to
build her nest anil lay the eggs-which
she will care for so carefully, that her
little birds may help to make the world
a more beautiful place. The* jointers
know they can get these feathers only
when the mother herron is on her nest,
and that she loves her babies so dearly
that she will not leave her nest. Then
the hunters shoot her, pluck her beau
tiful feathe-s, and leave the baby birds
to starve and perish in the nest for
want of care.—Outlook.
Responsive Roth to Harsh and Sweet
Sounds,
Tlio nerves are of en painfully acute. When
tills Is the'easo. the best thins to be done is
to seek the tonic anil tratimializlnir assist
ance of liostetter's Stomach Bitters, n su
perb nervine. No less beneficial |« It for
aysneptlc, bilious, malarial, rheumutic,
bowel and kidney complaints. U d with
persistent regularity. A wlnaglaesful be
fore retiring confers sleep.
There's nothing agrees worse than a
proud mind and t eggar's purse. .
PIT# -All Fits etorped free by Hr. K line's fires* '
Nerve ltestorer. N"KIlHiiMrr til.* nr> M 11,0,
NarvvlitUMciircM. Treatiseant 162 irra I len i i.. f re, t>
I ileuses, bemi to hr. Kliuv.KU ai<ju At., l-iiu., 1-u.
The first lueifer match wan made in
1829.
The
> Bane
of
Beauty.
...
Beauty's bane is® ^
the fading or falling of
the hair. Luxuriant
tresses are tar more to the
matron than to the maid whose casket
of charms is yet unrifled by time.
Beautiful women will be glad1 to be
reminded that falling or fading hair
is unknown to those who use ; "
Ayer’s Hair Vigor.
BIG AND GOOD.
PLUG
Sometimes quality is sacrificed in the
^ effort to give big quantity for little money.
No doubt about that. i
But once in a while it isn't. "
For instance, there's44 BATTLE AX/*
. The piece is bigger than you ever saw
* before for 5 cents. And the quality is, as j
many a man has said,44 mighty good." "
There's no guess work in this statement
It is just a pain fact.
► You can prove it by investing 5 cents /
in * BATTLE AX/
1896 Hartford Bicycles
REDUCTION
IN PRICE - -
TUtffi the best value for the money
offered In medium grade machines
Columbias
THE STANDARD
OF THE WORLD
acknowledge no competitors, and the price # 4 A A
is fixed absolutely for the season of 1896 at * 11111
If you caal buy a Columbia, Dm boy a Hartford.
Affl Columbia and Hartford Bicycles are wady far immediate delivery. *
Branch 8tores and Agencies in almost
every city and town. If Columbias ara
not properly represented in your vicinity,
let us know.
POPE MFG. CO.
General Offices and Factories,
HARTFORD, OONN.
