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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (July 28, 1904)
POISON ENOUGH • .TO KILL 80,000 Th»t Quantity, or About 60C Ounces, Sold by Sioux City Druggists Annually. MORPHINE MOST POPULAR Plow Dope Fiends Are Mad* and How Druggist* Fegr Helping Suicide* to Accomplish Their Purpot* —New Law Liked. Ateux City Tribune: ’■TeJr* a shot. It’ll ginger you up.” 'M i dst the rattling dice and the whlr *tng machine* of the Fourth street gambling houses along in the ''woozy" hours of the morning, when energy Is ebbing and Interest In the game Is posting dollars to the gamblers of less endurance, this Is the advice often giv en. It’s the phrase that means a hypo dermic injection of morphine pr cocaine «r some other opiate which for n time permits the over-wrought gambler to ■forget his weariness and temporarily Stay In the game. "The gamblers are as a class, "dope fiends,” said a well known Sioux City druggist who has occasion to observe. "Not only are they fiends, but they teach young fellow* the habit. When gome of the young sports get lifeless with dissipation the old gambler will «ay, 'take a shot. It'll cheer you up,' and then hand over the cocaine." More than 600 ounces of deadly poi gons or enough to kill 80,000 people Is bought by Sioux City people In a year. According to an estimate of a local druggist The larger share of this Is purchased by dope fiends, as the Amount which enters Into physicians’ firescrtptlons Is small In comparison to he amount purchased by the dope fiends. Morphine Is used the most free Jty. it being estimated that 325 ounces of -that drug are taken: cocaine and its preparations are second with 150 oun ces, strychnine. 26 ounces and arsenic kbout 10 ounces. A large amount of corrosive sublimate is used in surgical Operations, to wash wounds, sterilize instruments and kill germs. sime tne advent oi cocaine as an Anesthetic some fifteen years ago, a train of devotees has followed In Its wake with such Increasing numbers that most stringent laws have recently been enacted against Its sale. Not a druggist tn Sioux City will sell It ex cept under a doctor's prescription, yet the dope fiends get it Otherwise they will be liable to serious entanglements. The law passed by the Iowa state legis lature two years ago forbids Its sule under any circumstances except a doc tor’s prescription. The hospitals for the Insane have been taxed to their limits the past few years, with Inebri ates addicted to the use of this drug. It attacks the delicate nerve tissues of the brain and excites them us does no other drug. It came into use as a medicine for the eye and ear. When used In a prescription for the eye or ear It Is In a solution of five grains of co •calne to one ounce of water. One tenth of one-half grain Is the amount •usually administered hypodermically, while two grains Is the limit. Horne addicted to Its use will place a little quantity on a stick and suck the •stick as do the snuff-users of the south, while others will use It as they would tobacco. A number of so called ca tarrh remedies are mostly cocaine, and many of the fiends use these continu ously. These they can buy when the real unadulterated article Is not to be bad. There are regular opium dens In •Sioux City In some of the resorts ten anted by colored people where original packages of opium direct from the joints In Chinatown, San Francisco, can be purchased. Its users In Sioux City Are said to be negroes. Morphine flends are said to be fewer •thou formerly. This Is due to the care fulness of the physician In Its preaertp •tlon, and to ths fact that It Is more ■commonly administered hypodermical ly than otherwise. But in the oper ating room or as a deadener of pain In these days of* numerous accidents and surgery there Is nothing which will take Its place. The mode of admin istration now Is almost always hypo dermic, since in that way It gets Into the blood Immediately and does Its work more quickly. Sioux City druggists are suspicious of •buyers of poisons. When any one of •the deadly poisons Is asked for, the ap plicant Is required to sign a register and give a satisfactory explanation for demanding it. “A woman came Into our store one •night not long ago very much agitated" •♦Id a Fourth street druggist. "She Asked for prussic acid, one of the most •deadly drugs known to the profession, dike was wild-eyed, exclt and her face showed the marks of dissipation. 1 asked her what she wanted It for •and she gave a lame excuse. I told her ere didn't have any of It In stock. I -then admonished her that It was a deadly poison and could not be bought In any drug store. I often see that woman on the street now. I wonder It •be is glad she coudn’t get that prussic acldr Arsenic, generally regarded by the Salty aa a comparatively mild drug, .yet known to the profession as one of the most deadly, one-ilftleth of a grain being the ordinary dose and one twelth being conslderated dangerous, is a favorite with the deml-mondes. It has a peculiar way of puffing out the hollow places In the face and about the •yes and whitens the complexion. Its ■users' become addicted to tt and chronio diseases often develop as a result, oftentimes the patient dying In great agony from an overdose. It attacks tissues and causes them to slough away. It Is the medicine ordinarily used by the dentist to kill the nerve of a tooth. Dentists also use cocaine, but with ■ great caution. Soma college athletes are becoming ■strychnine fiends, but Its use In Sioux City Is not common. Strychnine, one of the deadly poisons. Is a great heurt .■stimulant and athletes are often able to win through Its stimulation. The | •winner of the broad Jump at the recent I Iowa state field meet Is said to be a •devotee of this drug. A trainer in one of the big colleges of Iowa is also one Its advocates. Just what the criminal uses for knock-out drops Is a puzzle to the drug gists, although most of them believe It tto be chloral hydrate. A physician in prescribing this drug seldom puts In ■more than twenty grains. The crimin al uses fifty to eighty for knock-out" drops, and 120 grains if he wishes to kill. The stuff ts usually given to the victim in an Innocent looking drink. With the physicians and pharmacists, • certain amount of the deadly poisons is recognized as entering into a pre scription and should a doctor send a prescription to a drug store with mote than the ordinary amount of the poison, he Is immediately called up by the pharmacist and asked about it. In Sioux City as In other cities, strychnine •Alsrs into more than fifty per cent, of the doctors’ prescriptions. The Increase In nsrvous troubles has brought about an increase in the use of strychnin# for there fs nothing which will stimu late the heart as it will and It will save a dying person where other drugs would fall. One sixteenth of a grain Is close to the maximum dose of this drug. Next In the list of most commonly used poisons comes morphine, which Is used In case of accidents to deaden pain, and In surgical operations. It Is almost always used hypodermically and very seldom as a medicine. With the conscientious physician It Is usually the last resort as a medicine. Bella dona extract 1s used as an antidote to morphine poisoning and vice versa. ! Not more than one-twentieth of a grain of morphine Is usually given while half a grain 1s considered a large dose. Borne of the fiends are said to be able to take thirty grains without danger. Carbolic acid, well known and used for many purposes, is one of the most deadly poisons. When taken Internally it causes the most painful death, burn ing and scalding the mouth and throat like so much molten metal. It is fre quently used by suicides because it is easy to get, but they do not realize Its awful effects before taking It. Recent ly laws have been enacted hedging its sale. One peculiar attribute of this acid Is that one-third of its quantity mixed with the same amount of alcohol will render it harmless. Down in stricken Florida and other southern states quinine Is the great staple drug. Druggists buy it by the carload and everybody uses It. It is the great antidote for chills. | In the well regulated drug stores of Sioux City as in other cities is a poison i case in which all the deadly poisons are i kept In colored or specially marked bot tles. This is a precaution against any carelessness in prescriptions for when ever a pharmacist goes to that case he realizes that he is dealing with life and i death. Beales of great sensitiveness are used, responding to the weight of one sixty-fourth of a grain. As he spoke a cold sweat had gath ered on his forehead, his pathetic eyes expressed a haunting fear, and his ex citement made his hands tremble. "My dear father, you need have no fear for me, when I play I always know when to stop." "You may not always be able to con trol yourself." "I have never been carried away like that; as you know, X have a cool head," said Max self-confldently. “It Is true, that night when I played with Goffe—” He hesitated as some sudden thought flashed on him, then turned abruptly away. “For God's sake,” the count im plored, "remember my words and take my warning. Don’t gamble, whatever you do, don't gamble." Max was staring from the window, his brows contracted over eyes that looked out on the terrace with Its vines ! creeping round marble balustrades, and i on the park with Its undulating sward, I Its patches of golden gorse, Its clumps j of majestic trees, of all of which he was unconscious; for he saw only the dark | and tragic picture that rose In his mind i and held his pained attention to Its de tails. It was only after seconds that seemed hours that he was able to release him self from the spell that held him, when with a gasp of the breath, like one suf focating, he rushed towards his father, held him In a farewell embrace, and hurriedly quitted the room on his way to the trap which was to carry him on the first stage of his eventful Journey. CHAPTER XIII. IN PARIS. When, after a rough passage In the channel, Max reached Parts in the early morning, drove through Its Just awak ened streets, he felt like a man who had been roused from bad dreams to realize that he was free from fear and danger. All his late restlessness running into new channels, roused and made him feel delight In his present surroundings, which had for him all the charm of novelty, all the exhilaration of gaiety. Historic sights, grand old churches and treasures of art were to him noth ing more than places that chilled him by their somberness or bored him in sufferably. Therefore he avoided the galleries of the Luxembourg and the vast halls of the Louvre, with their Incomparable treasures of pictures and statues, their relics of a royal race and Jewels that had crowned monarchs. His enjoyments lay In other direc tions. He appreciated the dainty din ners served to him in the most fash ionable restaurants; and he afterw-ard delighted to smoke the choicest cigars in cafes blazing with lights and filled by Joyous crowds of the gayest people in Europe. He promenaded the boule vards, drove in the Bois, visited fresh music halls each night in succession, and danced at the Moulin Rouge with a spirt that rivaled the most vivacious. lie had spent a week in Paris, when one evening, having finished his dinner at a famous restaurant, he was slowly sauntering down between rows of little tables, with their group of chattering diners, when his eyes fell on a young man seated alone, a puzzled expression j on his face, as he bent over his menu ; card. Max immediately recognized him as Lord Surreymore, eldest son of the | Marquis of Badrington. They had been | at Cambridge together, but had not be ' longed to the same college. Max had not exchanged a dozen sen tences with him in the course of their previous meetings, but that did not pre vent him from advancing to his ac quaintance with a friendly smile. Sur reymore looked up from the menu, which he had some difficulty in under standing, gave him a glance of doubtful recognition, nodded his head coldly, and in response to the friendly smile said, "You here?” "Thought I knew your face as I was passing out. I have been a week in I Paris, seeing everything; never enjoyed myself so much," said Max glibly, add ing. "Are you alone?” ‘‘Yes. I am on my way to Nice, j where some of my people are staying. This Is my second day here and I find It rather dull.” “Paris dull?” exclaimed Max, to whom such a thing seemed an Impossi bility. Max sat down beside him with smil ing readiness, explained the titles of the entrees, selected the dishes for him, Interpreted his wants to the waiter, and made himself generally useful to him In the space of a few minutes. Over their coffee, their cognac and cigarettes the names of university men known to both were introduced by Max by way of paving his way more effect ually to Surreymore's friendship; and as the latter was simple-minded, fresh and Inexperienced, this was not difficult to gain. Before the night ended Surreymore had altered his determination to leave Paris next morning, preferring to re main a day or two longer in a city made so pleasant to him by his expe rienced cicerone. And as they parted he asked Max to breakfast with him next morning at the hotel where he was staying, an Invitation which was imme diately accepted. It was at this meal that the younger man, who was unwilling to part with his Interpreter and companion, suggest ed to Max that he should go with him to Nice. “I have never been there, but I have always wanted to see the place—or rather, Its suburb, Monte Carlo," Max confessed. Here was an opportulnty to see the Casino of Monte Carlo which might not occur again for years, and then might find him without the desire to see the Place. He was within a few hours’ Journey of it; a journey that could he made with a brevity, ease and luxury that seemed to tempt mankind thither. His father need never know he had quitted Paris. The Idea Intoxicated him, carried him away. What a time he would have In Paris with an unlimited supply of cash to feed his Insatiable desire for pleas ure; and what nights and days of en joyment he might have In London had he but the golden key which unlocks such delights. And having made up his mind to take the Journey, he burned with eager ness until It was begun; bo that two j evenings later than that on which he | had met Lord Surreymore, both young j men had started by the express train I for Marseilles, on their way to Nice ! Max got out at the Monte Carlo sta . ; tion, while Surreymore went on a few I | miles farther to Nice, where his mother : , | the Marchioness of Badrlngton. was ! j expecting him. The young men parted j as excellent friends, Surreymore prom ising to come over and see Max later on. The ancient town of Monte Carlo presents a picturesque sight. As Max first saw it the sun had spread itself like gold upon the seat, the violet sky was undimmed by a cloud, and the whole land, basking in delicious warmth, was verdant to the shore. But he scarcely heeded the beauty of the place, all his attention being riveted on the casino, the Imposing gambler's hell, to which people of both sexes, of all ages and every nationality flock day by day, and year after year, full of the phantom hope of enriching themselves. It was not far from his hotel and he Immediately entered the spacious and magnificent grounds surrounding It. At last he was in the casino where he had often desired to be. and with a feeling of self congratulation he looked around as If to recognize a familiar sight, but was almost surprised to find the saloons were larger and more mag nificent than he had Imagined. As it was comparatively early in the day the rooms were not crowded, but in each there were a number of people seated and standing at the tables de voted to roulette, rouge-et-noir and trente-et-quarante. if he never played he could spend de lightful days in watching those who did, and entering into the spirit of their feelings. He wandered from room to room and from table to table, thinking that even If he never played he could spend de lightful days In watching those who did, and entering Into the spirit of their feelings. It was in the fourth room, seated at a roulette table, that he saw a man whose presence seemed familiar, and whom he soon remembered had break fasted at his hotel at the same time as himself. He played for high stakes, seldom looked up from the table, and as for tune flucuated with him, accepted his gains or losses with tranquility, his nervous excitement only apparent in the deepening pallor of his complexion, or the twitching of his thin, flexible hands. Max felt his Interest center in the stranger, whose fortunes he fol lowed as If they were his own; when, as if becoming aware of this, the man suddenly raised his eyes, and recogniz ing in Max’s face the same absorbing passion for gambling as possessed him self, smiled at him in a friendly man ner. That evening Max was seated In the dining room of his hotel at one of the little tables seated over the great saloon when the stranger entered, cast a rapid glance around, and seeing Max, came toward him, bowed, and asked permission to share his table, which was gladly given. “Have you won?” Max asked Inter estedly. “Only a few napoleons, nothing worth while," came the answer, in a quiet concentrated voice. “This Is my first visit here; you know the place. I suppose?” “Yes; for years I have been here every autumn; but this will probably be the last time I shall come to Monte Carlo." "How is that?” “I intend to make my fortune and gamble no more." "But if you fail?” questioned Max, looking at this dreamer, who merely shrugged his shoulders In reply, while a smile flitted over his melancholy face. "You, too,” he said after a mement’s silence, "have the gambler’s passion.” "I fear I have.” "It is a curse,” he said tvearily, "and yet so infatuated am I that I would not be without It. If I win a sufficient sum to keep me for some years. I will never, ah, never, gamble again.” Before dinner hud quite ended he had began to grow feverish and rest less; he scarcely tasted the dessert, and continually looked at the clock. When it struck nine he declared he must go to the casino. Max volunteered to ac company him. i3ui.ii luuiiu places at tile same roul ette table, but apart from each other. Max at first merely ventured a five franc piece, and when he won, hailed his luck as a promise of what was In store for him. And In this he was not mistaken, for when closing time came he had close upon five hundred pounds In his pocket. Nothing could exceed his glee, for he now felt quite sure that he would make his fortune before he left Monte Carlo. His excitement was hardly damped on hearing from the Pole that he had lost three hundred pounds, a statement made by him while his mel mcholy smile lit up the ravages of his weary face. Next day Max was Impatient until the casino opened Its doors, through which he was one of the first to pass, determined to secure a fortune for him self. He alternately won and lost until iate In the afternoon, when he found that he had parted with one hunderd tnd fifty pounds, which he promised ilmself to recover that evening; but when the closing time came once more lie had scarcely a franc left of that imount he had gained the previous lay, or of the balance remaining to aim of his father's check. So next morning he set out for Nice to find his late companion and obtain t loan if possible. For this purpose ae was prepared to promise or to say anything which could gain his ends; for the fever of gambling heated his alood and mounted to his brain, and nade him heedless of all things save ;he means of gratifying his passion. Surreymore was just leaving his aotel when Max reached it. While walking Into the adjoining garden, the younger man noticed the restlessness )f his visitor’s manner, but he was not eft long In suspense as to Its cause, :'or Max begin to tell him of his first fight's winnings, his second night’s osses and wound up with the point dank request for the loan of three rnndred pounds. "If I win I will pay you at once—to notrow morning," he promised. "But if you lose?” Max became desperate at the sug jestlon, and In his urgency said; "I don’t think I am likely to, but in hat case I will pay you within the next six months, when I have married the leiress to whom I am engaged. If you want it before that time, my father, the I'ount Masslnl, will pay you; he has plenty of money, you know." Surreymore credited him with speak ng the truth, yet he hesitated about the sum asked. "Three hundred pounds-" he be jan. “Your hotel proprietor will cash a ■heck for you; It’s not so much. I i night win It In flften minutes. Sur eymore,” he burst out suddenly, sto*i- J ping in the path and facing hts com panion, "if you don't lend me this ! money, by - I'll shoot myself.” Surreymore turned pale and then said: I "I think I can manage it. Come with : me to my rooms.” At dinner that evening Max and the Pole, who shared his table, were In I high spirits. Neither had much appe ' tite but both drank freely. "It will be all or nothing with me tonight,” said the Pole, his wistful eyes aglow. "I feel as if I might do some thing great, break the bank, perhaps; who knows," and he told stories of ; men who had made vast fortunes in few hours at the tables. So exhilarated did Max feel that he almost danced on his way from the hotel to the casino, where, without loss of time, he began to play, winning and losing alternately, while his pulse beat high, his heart leaped, and the glare of light, the sea of faces, and sounds of voices confused and maddened him. When he had lost the last franc he had possessed he rose and staggered through the throngs, away from the pitiless, curious eyes, from the laughter of this hell, and went out Into the cool gardens, smelling of orange trees and violets, and musical with the splashing of fountains. He could hardly realize that he was penniless. But on suddenly turning down an alley he came upon a procession whose sight froze his blood, and fascinated him so that he could not move until it had passed. As it did, the light of a lantern carried by one who bore a lifeless figure showed him the face of the Pole, white as marble, save where one temple was splashed by blood. CHAPTER XIV. A CONVERSATION. One gray and gloomy afternoon, late in October, Dunstan Burbage was seated in a great chair beside a wood fire in one of the smaller rooms of Had ley Manor. Throughout his Illness, while his harassed mind wandered over the events of the past, from his childhood upward, and rested with agonizing per sistence on the late tragedy, he had been carefully watched and tended by Veneto and his servant Matteo. As he had boasted, the Italian was skilled in medicine and understood his patient's case; and to his knowledge of herbs, unknown to, or ignored by, the English medical faculty, the fever-stricken man probably owed bis life. And not only did Veneto fail to sum mon a doctor, but he likewise neglected to announce Dunstan's Illness to the Inmates of Knowlesworth Hall. So, taking it in turns by night and day, Veneto and his confidential ser vant nursed Dunstan, and they alone listened to the ravings of a mind haunted by the recollections of a ter rible tragedy, and by the horrors of a prison cell. It was only when reason had established Itself and he lay lan guid and tranquil that Roma was al lowed to enter his room and sit by his bedside. However, she felt some satisfaction, some outlet for her tenderness toward him, in sitting watchfully by while he slept, In bringing him the food she had prepared, or in talking or reading to him. They had often talked of her country, whose people he had learned to know and love during the year or so he had lived among them, while studying chemistry in the laboratory of an Italian chemist famous in the scientific world. Roma had one day, when he was well on his way to recovery, suggested that she should give him brief lessons, and that they should read together the pages of i heir favorite poet, Dante. When Roma put away her copy of Dante there was silence between them for some seconds. From where she sat she could see through the high window the discorded clouds scurrying before the wind like a routed army flying in front of the enemy. The battlefield was limitless In size and of a dull lead color, and now and then came sounds like the faint echoes of trumpets and the cries of the pursued, as the breeze distractedly tore along the common or rushed through the tangled woods. From the wild sky, the frighted clouds, and the sombre earth she turned to look at the occupant of the chair beside her, whose sharp profile and col orless face were distinctly seen In the red glow of the wood fire, and she was struck by his expression of brooding melancholy, and the alert apprehen siveness of his stare, like that of a man fearful of a sight unseen by others, of some pictured fate that rose before him vividly and appallingly from out the gloom and cast Us melancholy upon him. As with dim eyes she turned again to watch the interminable ranks of the routed army In the sky, she told her self that although he had been de clared innocent and set at liberty, a man whose nature was so sensitive as his would never believe himself free from doubt of guilt In the eyes of the world at large until the murderer of Richard Ooffe had been discovered. (Continued Next Week.) A Club Woman’s Adventure. New York World: One of the dele gates from the far south to the Gen eral Federation of Women's Clubs at tended the reception at the Texas state building at the fair recently, and a heavy thunderstorm came up. She was Impatient to be off, but averse to facing a deluge. One of the commissioners gave a guard a dollar to summon a ve hicle for her. After three-quarters of an hour the guard returned with a Red Cross ambulance. The delegate demurred, but the guard assured her that she "only had to pretend to be a little sick," and the thing was done. Entering into the joke, she descend ed the stair leaning on the arm of a sympathetic friend. As the guard care fully arranged the “invalid” on the cushions he managed to whisper that she would be obliged to go to the hos pltal'on the exposition grounds for a few moments, as the ambulance was obliged to report every passenger there first. All sorts of horrible possibilities flashed through her mind. Suppose they should imagine she had something terrible the matter with her and Insist upon an operation? Such mistakes had been made before. By the time she was half way to the hospital she was as thoroughly sick as even the guard could have desired. She alighted white and shaking. Only fear that she would involve everybody In serious trouble kept her from shrieking aloud as she was conducted into the presence of two doctors and two trained nurses. Her pulse was felt and her temperature was taken, she madly in sisting the while that there was "noth ing the matter with her—absolutely nothing." The doctor shook his head gravely. "Threatened with nervous prostatlon.” was his verdict. “You ought to be put to bed at once.” Her protestations became almost tearful and her prayers to be sent back to her hotel were finally granted. She was escorted to the car by an atten tive surgeon and carefully lifted aboard, whereupon she proniptlv sub sided into her handkerchief. What He Wanted. Johnny—Mister, do you write colored songs? Musician—Yes. Johnny—Write me a blue one, please. A GODDESS IN GINGHAM By Angela Morgan. (C'opryright, 19m. by VV. R. Hearst.f "I simply cannot endure It another day, and I will not.” When Emily Barrett reached this decision she felt that her problem was already halt solved. She had been a member of her un cle’s household only one week, and al ready she felt the intolerableness of her position. Recently left alone and depentent up on the hospitality of relatives, she had accepted her uncle’s invitation tempor arily until she could find some means of supporting herself. Her proud spir it chafed at the mere thought of de pendence, and she would consent to no other arrangement. In the small town where her uncle’s family shown as leading lights the ad vent of Emily caused a stir. The Barrett girls—her cousins—had neld the Indisputable title to being the prettiest and most popular of the city's belles. Emily’s coming diverted the interest most decidedly. She possessed a dis tinction of personality quite rare in the community. Coming from an eastern metropolis, she had an air and a style tantallzingly difficult to analyze. Above all, she was sweet and natural. The inevitable thing happened. It was the old story of feminine jealousy and selfishness. The attitude of her uunt and cousins toward her became daily more unendurable. "Better be a domestic in some one's kitchen than an unwelcome guest in the house of jealous relatives!” stormed Emily In her heart, after an exceeding ly humiliating experience. That afternoon she heard a conversa tion between her aunt and a caller— Mrs. Truesdaie. 'T shall have to give up altogether if I cannot find a cook,” declared the latter. “The question grows more hopeless each day. What Is to be the outcome of the servant problem? The answer seems eternities away. Why don’t young women of Intelligence and talent take up the study of housekeep ing—I mean as a profession, not mere ly as a mere accomplishment? That is what we need.” “Oh, but; my dear Mrs. Truesdaie!” remonstrated Emily’s aunt, "you wouldn’t expect girls of refinement and education to put their talents to such use. Really—’’ “How could they put them to better use? Let me tell you, Mrs Barrett, that If cooking and the other domestic accomplishments were to be classed with the arts and sciences and uni versally acknowledged as such the field would be overcrowded by our ambi tious, Intellectual maidens, striving to achieve honors in those branches of learning. If I could find some really talented, cultured girl to take into my home I would willingly give my time to her training. But I presume the find ing of such a prize in this world, under the present servant girl system is out of the question." Emily listened, her face glowing, her eyes alight. j. cun cook. sne murmured tri umphantly under her breath. How glad I am that I learned at home. And I always did love housekeeping. After all, I have a talent that I can put to practical use: I can be independent— I will be!" She said as much to Mrs. Truesdale when she called at the latter’s beauti ful home on the outskirts of the town the next morning. Her aunt’s friend gasped in astonish ment as she listened. “You can’t mean it, Miss Emily!” she exclaimed. She was one of the girl’s warmest admirers. “You really can’t mean what you say!” “But I do,” persisted Miss Barrett. I wish you'd give me a trial, at least. Please grant me this much anyway.” “It seems too good to be true,” said Mrs. Truesdale. “I am selfish enough to consent." Of course, her aunt and cousins gave vent to a chorus of hysterical screams when Emily told them. “You’ve disgraced us forever!” raged Rosa, the eldest of the Barrett girls. "The Truesdales of all people! Don’t you know that Larry Truesdale and I— are—-are—the greatest friends? What In the world will he say when he re turns from college to find my cousin acting as his mother's cook?” Her eyes were twin flames of indignation.. "I'm very sorry,” replied Emily. “I had no Idea Mrs. Truesdale had a son or that you and he were affianced—” “I didn’t say we were, did I?” snapped Rosa. “And I’m not likely to be now. You’ve disgraced the Barrett name In this town for good.” “It's outrageous!" stormed Mrs. Bar rett. "Ajtd you might as well under stand, Emily, right from the start, that we are not going to recognize you In any way after this. You must expect us to strike you from our list alto gether." "Very well. I'm satisfied," was the cheerful rejoinder. Emily’s hat brim hid the amused smile in her clear hazel eyes. The next day she be&an tvork in the Truesdale home. From the moment her strong young hands took hold of the domestic machinery a magic trans formation came over the place. Mrs. Truesdale marveled daily at the increasing harmony of household ar rangements and wondered why fate had selected her as a recipient of such good fortune. "It’s all too good to be true,” she de clared. Then the Instinctive fear of the human mind that it will lose the prize it has won began to harrass her thoughts. “If I should lose Emily it would be worse than if I had never known her. I have grown to love her so—and I know I must lose her some time.” But fate had that all arranged for— and so had Cupid. The little god usu ally accomplishes his object when his bow Is bent upon It. When Larry Truesdale returned from college and found presiding over his mother's home a veritable divinity whose manifold accomplishments in cluded the choicest he had ever dream ed of in his pictures of an ideal wife, it is scarcely to be wondered at that he fell headlong into love's beautiful abyss. Rosa Barrett fainted when she read the announcement of Larry’s engage ment to Emily. ‘ It’s—outrageous!" was all Mrs. Bar rett's trembling tongue could utter. Mrs. Truesdale’s comment was Quite different. “It's what I hoped and pray ed for!” she murmured, and she blessed them both. Putting on Style in Arizona. Tombstone Prospector: Every symp tom points to a tendency to spread on style in Tombstone. Among other Ins tincts in this direction, the boys bought a. pair of beautiful barber pole suspend ers and presented them to the amiabla dispenser who shoves the amber ex tract of cheerfulness over the mahog any of the parlor saloon. He promptly donned the innovation, but claimed that he felt like 1; • had a rail fence on each shoulder. Then, when they became overburdensome he would unbutton them and : : mit them to dangle in front, but he finally got them down tine enough to go to church in. Several old timeis. conspicuously court at tendants ladii the other end of the country, i > ■ fallen into the habit ol wearing lx lied shirts, and it looks as ij sky-blu.' 'derails might be discarded as a full- o- sa costume. Getting “pow» t.iui ion. in town nowadays. \_y V ' Couiui,y Grocer—Ezry, mark them eggs up ter 40 cents. Assistant—Why? Country Grocer—A theater company Is goln1 ter play "Hamlet" in ther town hall ternlght. BS Bright Boy. "Tommy, what piece of furniture ha« been used for years and Is still as good , as ever?" "The multiplication table." | | .......... “Money Waisted." " v^l Tom—You’re very beautiful. — suppose you get your beauty from voui mother. Edith—Oh! no indeed. Mamma ii still holding on to her owu.
