Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 22, 1907)
... —— 1 ■■ _ , .—— iThe Plunderersj ^ BY C. J. CUTLIFFE HYNE. f A A <A x A A a.a.a.a..A.*.a.a.a.a.±±.A.A.A.±A.±.A.A. ▲ A A. A, A, ± Ha got a return message. It Is true, bat not before noon on the following fisjr. It said: "Take no steps. Am ■errtttnK.'’ and seemed to hint at a change of plan. In another place he might have re mitted the delay. At least eleven days nmt pass, and probably more, 'before m letter could reach him, and all the while he would be condemned to inac tion and anxiety. Bui as It was he read Mr. Theodore Shelf's reply cable gram with a frown which was quite evanescent and felt a mild satisfaction , In the respite. In the afternoon he took j cut Miss Kildare to fish for tarpon. | By one of thoso singular chances , which oecur every century or so a tarpon they did actually catch on that ! first day of fishing—a thirty-pound monster, with glittering sliver scales cn him as big as dollars, who gave three hours' frantic fight before he turned his belly to tho skies and sub mitted to traveling beachward In the boat "W» got him between us,” said Miss Kildare. "That's my first, and I’ve tried for him times out of number.” “My first also, and I’ve tarpon fished ter weeks.” “We seem to bring one another luck.” “It's am undoubted fact, Elsie, we fio." The deduction seemed to give rise to thoughts In each of them, and they let ■their eyes rove vaguely over the gulf waters for the next minutes without srp taking. while the boat rode gently •ever the windless swell* which slid In through the outlying keys. A porpoise ■urged past them, roughing as he chased a shoal of mullet, uml overhead ■ string of purple and yellow cranes ■creamed wearily as they flapped home to the Everglades after a day's hard fishing on a growing reef. "They've all got to make their 11 v teg." said Cambel. "Who?” asked tho girl. •i was uiin.ung or inoae animals in the wator and In the nlr and, by an alogy, the rest of the animal world. We itOiidi pivy on something else, down to the ass who cats grass, or else we «ie." “That’s a very sage remark. Pat. i Hava you been reading Schopenhauer lately, or is your bank account un- i Stealthy?" I Combe! laughed. "Was It pesslmls- , He? I’m not given that way as a g<fl oral thing. It's so much pleasanter for •Deself and everybody elHe to look at •mtiers from the cheerful point of i view But I wa3 thinking at the time ( that If I'd been well off and If other ■ tilings hail not happened as they did | *ny life would have boan written very ; differently.'' Toil mean you might have been her < majesty's ambassador to the court of i Timbuktu ?'' *Or something in that line. Pos- •, ■rtbly. yes.” j “HabcX” sold the girl, "la free now." Canfhel nodded dreamily and once •sore let his gaze roam out across the Walt**. The boat rode uncared for «tar the gentle oily swells, and the . pound of the surf crumbling on the dla- ! tent keys fell on bis cars und droned -te htm a lingering tale of might have 1 'beets. Mabel was freo. The woman who bad once promised to bo his wife; the 1 aromas whose memory had driven him J from pillar to post across the world ' -through all those long wild years, be- j •suae of his abiding love for her was 1 too great a torment to bo borne when • be rested for a breathing place In one ' and had tlmo for thought; the woman 1 who had by pressure been made to 1 marry another man, whom, neither on 1 ber wedding day nor at any after 1 time, did ahe ever love She was free f •gain. Mnbol Duvernay now, and « Mabel Kildare no longer, but Mabel 1 . atilt, and free. 1 - 1 CHAPTER XVIII. 1 V- "THE CYCtiONK. < A Hrtttmjr faced negro waiter came up ■ *ta answer to the boll and brought tum bler* of tinkling ice and water. Doth 'Cambel and Miss Kildare drank thlrst 'Uy and then lay back In their cane < chairea panting. The close heat was something terrible There was not a l breath of either sea breeze or land I breeze, and the electric fan which i whirred on the table behind them did ; ‘Uttie more than send a blast of sickly warmth. Down the long line of the ; piazza were the rest of the people In ’ the hotel, the men cursing and mop- ] •*>>k their faces, the women with closed f | ••ye* fanning themselves languidly. ] And overhead the shingles of the roof i crackled and rustled In the baking air •a though they were alive. Night came and the hell clashed out Hz summons to dinner, but no one went , 4m. The wooden sides of the hotel, baked through and through by a month of tropical sun, had made the rooms «ufi«ndurcb!c. So they 3tnld where they -were In the hot, oppressive dark and blinked nt the white summer lightning which splashed the violet heavens In ’ teont of them. In heavy panting beats Hie night seemed to close down upon them and pen them In. so that it was a labor to breathe. 1 can't stand this,” sold Miss Kll Aare at lent “Tou've got to," replied Cambel wear ily. “unless you “house to go down the I beach und sit In the water with your rkithH cm." (■“That would be some relief, although file travel Is as hot us tea. Hut 1 shan’t do that, i shall walk along the pier ' mv*r the non. One may faint half way ■M tumble over and get drowned, but •Byway that’s better than staying here •ad being cooked slowly.’’ They got up together nnd strolled wearily over the loose white sand and then more crisply over the worn deck tec at the pier. Between the lightning ■Cashes the darkness above them was <tbe darkness of a cave, hut faint phos phorescent fringes showed out among the plies beneath, nnd these guided them from walking over the edge over the planks. "Too shouldn't stay down there this Breather," Cnmbel said ns they paused d»s« the narrow platform with lingers tetert wined. "You"! lose your color •ad your beauty If you do and get -thin and sallow like Mrs. Van I.lew," No reply came, :uid Cnmbel said noth- ! tec more, but walked un. thinking. “You’ve been hare new nine whole I Cayu, Pat," the girl sulrt. breaking sll «me for ilie second time, when they ..were half a rnllo from the shore. “it can’t be. Yes. you're right. Nine days. Time has gone quickly." And you’ve never been out of the place cnee. At leust rot a dozen miles Aon Point Sebastian." Mrs. .Dover nay" s place was fifteen •■lies away. Cant bet naw the point. “No.” he said. "I haven't found lime. Ton and 1 have luul so much to tell one •Bother." “Wo always have been very good ttMends." «at«l the girl and was going tto add something else when her words ■wiers itroanU! by u furious crash of -thunder. *nnl'» close overhead," Cuntbel re •watkerl. "’’id »om»:h!ng else will fol Itew. K i:‘s ibi *. ** *• *iuvt» a. del OKST4 1*i *>tl i t?n‘,v W*’rt I In for something different. We had better turn back. Elsie." "In view of this heat, a wetting would be a distinct luxury, but I think, ns you say, there Is something else coining be sides. Oh, Pat, here It Is. Run, or we shall bo caught!" The storm gave but one weird moan, a rustle and a shriek from over the tree tops and then was upon them. In a minute it was blowing with a hurri cane force which no human being could stand against. The wind plucked the feet from under them, and they fell to the deckings of the pier, gripping with their Angers In the gaps between the planks. A storm of sand and leaves and twigs beat against their heads. The crazy trestle work of the pier buckled and swung beneath their bodies. "We must get shoreward,” Cambe! yelled in his companion’s ear. "This jam crock thing will go by the board directly.” "Right-o!" enme back the response cheerily enough, and together they be g:an to warp themselves toward the beach and the wind, plank at a time. The girl was strong and accustomed to jsing her muscles, but skirts are a poor rig to play caterpillar In, and her pro- , jress was slow even with Cambel’s : oelp. When they had gained a score of rards, she bade hint leave her to make , he best of his own way. "I shall get | ilong all right,” she cried. “Go and | ;ell them 1’in coming." "Naturally I should," he shouted < sack, with a laugh. "Here, let me link j ny arm inside yours. That’s right. • Now we'll ferry along at twice the , >ace." j But they did not get much farther. , \ minute afterward, to the kick of a lard squall, the gray old pier tottered md clattered and orlnched, and the ' vlnd was Ailed with Hying boards, and ’ambel found himself with one arm Hutching the weed clad stump of a pile md the other wrapped round Elsie KU lare. ■ null.' ne soouica anxiously. , "Not a bit. Sound as a bell. You?" t "All right." £ "But where’s the water? There £ ihould be six feet here, and I can feel , lone.” ( "Blown away to sea. We may thank £ lod the wind Is not on shore or we’d , lave been drowned, us hundreds of j ither poor wretches are this moment. f Vh! That’s a shave." £ A lightning Hash showed them a luge tree plucked from Its roots anil , (lowing past them, squirming and 1 rushing about like a live mad thing. . Chen a heavy squared root beam hit . heir jagged pile and missed Cambei’s , irm by a nail’s breadth. I, "The hotel's going down!” he shout cl. "The nlr will be full of this stuff n a inintilS’, nfcT If wo try to move we £ hall be brained before we’ve got a ( 'ard. Crouch down, deur, at the bot- c om of the post." f "You, too.” f “No. there Isn’t room." "Then I shail stand." 4 She dragged at his sleeve and pulled ] dm to her side. "Slay by me, here, ' ’at. You might get swept away, and could bear that." 8 "Of course 1 11 stay by you, dear. I’ll 1 lever go till you turn ine away." He ook now grip with his arms, pinning 1 ler between his breast and the weed ] ugged leg of the pile. "Elsie I want ' o tell you something. You know I’ve 8 dways liked you us a friend, but now 5 t has come to more than that. Much ? nore—love, darling. Once my mind was r ull of another woman, and I thought L could never care for anyone else as cared for her, but that was years s luce, thousands of years, it seeni3 now, nd, Elsie, I’ve—I’ve forgotten her. She 1 s only a name to me and your sister. 1 )ear, If we get away from this, do < ou think you could like me, too, a little f nore than an ordinary friend?" 8 She put her lips to his ear. "Do you hlnk we shall come out of It alive, ' ’at? Tell me honestly." “I hope so.” 1 "Honestly, Pat." 1 "I’m afraid, darling, It's a poor * hance.” : Her soft, wet cfcaks nestled against 1 ilm, and strands of her hair Inter- , wined themselves with his. "Pat,” * he said, “you never knew, but I loved £ 'ou all along from the first." Then for the first time during many : ■ears Patrick Cambel knew what It vas to fear death. Beforetime life had J leld many torments for him. and IJ : ead or water or steel chose to show r :lm the great secret he did not very c nuch care. Now It was all different. Ic lusted to live with a fierceness vhich almost drove him mad. "You are trembling,’’ the girl said ! inxlously. “I know I am. You have made me a f ank coward, dear." She understood hiir. and kissed his ‘ liouth, hut no other words passed be- ' ween them. int cycione mew on, bellowing and caring, and the (lend fingers of the ' vtnd did mischief' beyond all reckon ng. Timber which bad stood hundreds if years, celbas and cypresses, live aks and pines, sprawled down among he tangled undergrowth, mere masses >t splintered matchwood. The man trove thickets were clogged with itones. with grasses, with grimy tan sies of Spanish moss. Lakes were , licked from their beds and spirited , Car over the creaming waters of the stulf, The land birds were driven like helpless spume flakes far away to sea LUid choked with the gate before they were flung breathless from its clutches. The palmetto shaeks of the humbler coast dweljers vanished in dust. The frame houses of the better to do burst , at all their angles and spread like plat forms upon the ground. And meanwhile the great straggling wooden hotel on Point Sebastian dis solved away Uko a sand bank In a Hooded estuary. First the heat twisted shingles hud been stripped off, (lying away into the wind like some strange dark fowl sent as avant couriers of more fearsome things to come. Then weatherboards followed, singly and in coveys, then gable ends and joists and rafters, all floating ana pitching in the air as though the wind had the density of a tossing ocean stream. Chairs and wooden bedsteads, clothes blown out into grotesque shapes as though the freakish spirits of the storm had donned them, the scantling of the lung piazza, and still more boards whirred out iuto the night and van ished forever down the track of tne tyclone. Ann in the thick of this devil's bomburdmeru crouched men and women, and other things, shapeless and horrible, which had been men and women once. The tale of the dead grew with awful pace that night. Once there was a slight lull in tho' , blast of the gale, and driven out waters of the shore began to return and swirl ed knee high about the two •who were taking refuge at the fool of the pile. •Come,'' said Cambell, taking the girl j by the hand, “we must run for it." And i ho led the way beachward, blundering through piled up pounds of wreckage,. ! while the stinging spindrift swirled [around their heads and bit theiu the face like whips. But a flying mis sile from out of the Inky blackness struck him on the curve of the temple before he had gone 20 yards, and the grip of his finger.-: loosened, and he swayed and fell without a word. The girl threw herself on his "body, walling that he was killed and that she, too, would stay there and die, but a wlk! hope selzed*her that he might be only stunned, and she took his body In her arms, and half dragging, half carrying, \ began to go with him once more by tedious Inches toward the beach. Then the cyclone burst out afresh with all the torrent of its fury, and to move or even stand against the wind was a thing Impossible. The girl and burden was flung heavily to the ground, and a mass of driving wreck age slid above them and pressed them down. "Oh, Pat, Pat," she cried. "I did so want to live with you and now wo must tjoth die here!" Three terrible hours more they spent there, the girl expecting violent death u> tail on her every second, the man Jn Iter arms gradually returning to con sciousness. And then, like organ whose wind chamber has emptied Itself, the tyclone suddenly dropped its vqlce. It and arisen in'a minute to the full of ts strength, and In a minute It lulled o a breathless calm, leaving the air tcoured.tmd sweet and the land a angled desert. The sea alone rerpefn jered lfa lashing actively and funied n a swell of sullen majesty In Its leeper parts and sent Its angry waters jack In rippling surf on fo those shad ow western beaches from which it lad been so ruthlessly evicted. It was from this last returning tidal vave that ,’the final danger came, but he two under that pile of wreckage nanaged to slip from beneath the .wood vhen the waters loosened It and run in he breaking' dawn to the higher [round -beyond. They vuere .bruised, loth-bf them..and CambePwas bleeding rom a-Jagged eut or) the he,ad; but. ifter all, their hurts were trifling com >arcd with what they might have been, [’hreo i thousand people -died Jn that light’s work among the southern tates,-and the air was torn with the noan-of those who were left, lamenting s they sought their dead. That day all who could lift a pair of lands had work to do, and the next and he ne*t, but on the fourth day from he cyclone, when the fallen had been itirled and the quick housed, Cambel nanaged for the first time to get a rard en tete-a-tete with this woman rho had said she loved him and'had romised to be his wife. He had on nod the matter over In hts mind, r.d after heavy argument had decided ot to hold any of his nffalrs Becret rom her, this, of course, having par Icular reference to the one affair by cliich he hoped to make a competence, le had visions of difficulties with her ver. It, but he began his confidence rtfully. "Elsie,” he said, "I came here to Flor- i da on business.” "Then,” replied Miss Kildare, "I’d Ike to give business a knob of sugar I o eat and flowers to Wear on his i teadstall. What color was business? White?” “Black, distinctly black, but valu lble. In figures slightly more than a luarter of a million in English money night to come to me for my share out nf him, or rather, as it now Is, our ihare, yours and mine, dear." "Oh, you duck, Pal! You don't mean ;o say I’m to marry a rich man? tVhefever did you steal the money ’rom? Speculation?” "Speculation of sorts, though steal lescribes It Jbetter. It's there, and that’s :he mafn thing.” "Money In the pocket 13 better than :en plans to get Jt there, any day. Pat. we'll have a big stearp yacht, and vhen we get sick of London we'll go end see ill the rest of the world. And fou 'of all people to become a successful ■ peculator! Arid what have you been naklng your corner In? Nothing un dean. I hope, like short ribs of pork?” "Gold. If that will suit your lady ship." "Oh, this Is delightful! You’ve been rading on American necessities. Tell ne all.Ahout it. I think I can ■follow. Dne hears so much about the silver luostlon that ope can’t help under standing It a little.” So with a pardonable eonleur de rose, .vherever .tinting was available, Canibel old the story of his finding the chan nel Into the Everglades, his compact with Shelf, the hazardous voyage of he steamship Port Edes and the sub sequent disposal of the specie. The. girl .listened to the tgle with close attention ind unmoved face. Even the account sf the mutiny and the grewsome en counter between Nutt and hla friend failed to call up comment, because In lomestic Florida a little dashing homi cide is such a very common occurrence But when Patrick Cambel had finished Ms say and looked to her tor ‘approval re only got a grave and decisive shake of the auburn head. "Well, dear.” he asked at last, made eery anxious at her silehce. “No, Pat," she said quietly, “ I can’t share In a fortune which has been laid up that way. Heaven knows I’m not squeamish. Hearing Whgt I do out Here about trusts and comers and syn dicates, and seeing what I can't help seeing of the way the people round make their living and still evade the law and retain respect, my notions of morality are very easy and slack. But—" "But I have gone too far?" She bowed her face gravely. (Continued Next Week.) Do You Wear a Soup Strainer? The pretty girl frowned. "Suppose," she said. "that the j waiter had spilled that plate of soup i over your head. Would yon have ' scooped the remnants oft with your i hand and eaten them?" “No, certainly not,” he answered, and with an air of disgust he looked from the window out at the bathers, the white sand and the sunlit sea. "Then, for goodness' sake." she cried, "stop sucking them off your mus tache. It is hideous to see you. After every spoonful you open your mouth, and slowly and complacently, as if you were doing something laudable, you take your mustache between your lips and suck the soup remnants from off: I the hairs. If you wouldn’t eat soup I that had been among the hair on your \ scalp, why should you eat it after It has been among the hair on your upper j Up?" He flushed. "Many a young man has been jilted,” said the girl significantly, "for i eating soup out of his mustache.” easy. An Incompetent servant had been dis charged by her employer. "Very well, mum,” sire said. “I’ll go. But I'll be askin’ for a rlference." “A reference!” echoed the lady. "What reference can 1 honestly give such a worthless girl ns you?" "It’e civil thing I’m askin',” she re turned. "You kin say I lived wid you four months. That'll be rlference enough, mum." A Lawyer’s Recipe. “Pray tell me.” said the maiden. “Is there any balm or art That can make llko new again A badly broken heart?" "Sure," the lawyer did reply, “A cement that for years Has stood the test, is gold. Dissolved In woman’s tears.” 444-44444444444+444444-444-f? Good Bait. A resident of Hudson, Wis., was deplor ing the resignation of Senator Spooner. “The senate can’t afford to lose a mind like that," he said. "I know the man well. He practiced law in this town for fifteen years or thereabouts. He won every case he set his hand to. “It was no surprise to us Hudsonites to flpd that John C. Spooner was the fin est legal mind in the senate. We knew him of old, you see. When he had a case on *we used to go in droves to hear him plead “I remember to this day a story that he once told in court in a case where he was showing how, with a good mo tive, one might still do a lot of harm. “He said that two aged Scotch ministers sat talking one day over their church warden pipes. “ ‘Last Sawbath,’ said the younger of the two old men, ‘only three folk cam’ to my kirk and since it was an awfu’ cauld, snawy, stormy mornin’, I julst took them over to the manse, read a chapter, gled them a prayer, and then, to ward off the rheumatics, a guid stiff glass of the best whisky.’ “The other minister smiled. " ‘Aweel,’ he said, ‘ye will hae a fine con gregation, my brither, the next stormy day.’ ” Don’t Take Away Their Pins. "E. II. Harriman." said a New York broker, “talked luminously the other day of the decline in the value of securities. He said we must be careful not to legis late too harshly against the country's vested interests, or the prosperity of these interests, and with it the country's pros perity-would be Impaired. “He illustrated his meaning with a story. “There was a school teacher,” he said, “who exclaimed impatiently one after noon: “ ‘Johnny Jones, what are you fumbling with there?’ “Johnny hung his head- and was silent. But the tell-tale of the class spoke up: “ ‘It’s a pin he’s got, ma’am.’ “ 'Well, take it from him,’ said the teacher, ‘«Ln‘d bring it here to me.’ “This was done, and then, in a molli fied voice, the teacher said: “ ‘Now, Johnny Jones, get up and recite your history lesson.’ “But Johnny Jones did not obey. He blushed, hung his head and sat still. “ ‘Johnny,’ said the teacher, ‘rise, I tell you.’ “Then the little fellow blurted out dis tressfully:’’ *‘I can’t,, ma’am. That there pin you took is what holds my trousers up.’ ’’ Moral Nature and the Appendix. Cling to your appendix with both hands, says the clerk of the day In the Boston Transcript. Rev. Samuel Van Vranken Holmes, who preached at Harvard, has furnished the clerk with documentary evi dence regarding the inestimable value of appendices. In Buffalo, where he minis ters to a large and influential church, he has lately been Involved In a little un pleasantness with the Torreyltes. It chanced that his course of addresses on the modern view of scripture synchronized with the T.orrey meetings and drew down upon him the rebuke of that mighty evan gelist; whereupon his malls grew heavy with letters of protest. One of those epistles ran something like this: "Sir: I understand now why you have been led astray by the higher critics. It Is less than a year, I am told, since you underwent the operation for appendicitis, j and any physician will inform you that i when the vermiform appendix comes out j the patient suffers the total loss of his j moral nature. This explains your case pretty Clearly.” In Doubt. From Harper's Weekly. A certain young man who. according t*. nil the accepted notions, should be very happy at this time, was found by a friend the other day, with a somewhat troubled [ look upon his face. I "What’s the matter, old man? Haven’t had a tilt have you?” the friend Inquired. “N—no,” was the reply, accompanied by a sigh. “Fact IS,” he continued, In a burst of confidence, ’T’ve been thinking, over a little remark Alice made last night.” “Oh, perhaps you misunderstood,” the friend suggested, encouragingly. "I hope so.” was the reply. “You see. we were talking of—well how things would be, j you know, and Alice said: “ ‘And won’t It be just too sweet; you | will come home all tired out from your i hard day’s work and hold me on your lap for hours, and read to me. and drive all , my eares away, and dry my tears and rub my head—and It will be just like » i novel!’ ” Misunderstood. At a meeting of the famous Bill club of Jefferson City—he whose name Is not Wil liam may not join this club—ex-Congress- • man Cowherd told a Decoration day I story. “Decoration day,” he said, "always makes me think of a peddler who came to my cousin’s house in Jackson county when the war was at its height. “This peddler, a strong, tall young man, was peddling ferns, and my pretty cousin said to him reproachfully: ” 'I am surprised to see an able-bodied young man like you selling ferns at this crisis. Why are you not with the army?’ "The peddler looked surprised. “ ’Why, they don't want ferns in the army, do they, lady?' he said.” In the Planting Season. S. F. Hood of the department of agricul ture with good prospects of success is try ing to beat the Japanese camphor trust by raising camphor groves in Florida. At n dinner in Huntington that cele brated an unusually tine distillation of camphor leaves, Mr. Hood, the guest of aonor, told a seasonable agricultural s ory, a story that should appeal to all suburban ites. "One beautiful spring morning,” he be gan, "a suburbanite looked suspiciously over his hedge and said to his neighbor: “ 'Hey, what the duce are you burying In that hole there?’ "The neighbor laughed—a harsh, bitter laugh. " 'Oh.' he said, ‘I'm just replanting some of my nasturtium seeds, that's all. " 'Nasturtium seeds?’ shouted the first man angrily. ‘It looks more like one of my Buff Leghorn hens.’ “ 'Oh. that's all right,' the other re torted. 'The seeds are inside.' ” A Horrible Error. Governor Hughes, of New York, at a dinner at Delmonico's referred good humoredly to an article wherein he had been misquoted. “The ersor,” he said, "was purely acci dental. but It put me, till it was corrected, in rather a bad position. It made me feel like the young bridegroom of Schenectady; “This young man was poor but honest. He was suspected of being a fortune hunt er, but it was not true. However, he mar ried a rich merchant's daughter, and leased on Schenectady's outskirts'a house called the Old Manse. "The wedding was celebrated duly, and the newspapers gave full accounts of it; but one of them, through a horrible typo graphical error, concluded with the state: | inent: “ ‘The happy jouple, after a short tour, 1 will live at the old man *.' " ... . ■■——MM. PETTU&'S IMPOSING DIGNITY. Th« Alabaman Handled the Senate as a Schoolmaster His School. Willis J. Abbot in August Munsey’s. Senator Pettus was always a champion of the dignity of the senate. W’hen the chamber was in disorder—that is, when conversation among the senators had reached a point that interrupted business —the mere suggestion on the part of the presiding officer that the junior senator from Alabama should be called to the chair was sufficient to bring order. When ho presided he handled the senate as a schoolmaster conducts his school. It Is to be said that this regard for leg islative dignity is much more characteris tic of the southern members than of those from the north and west. The southerr ?rs seem,to feel that the high traditior af the senate are worth preserving. Look ing upon a seat in it as a great honor the strive so to act as to indicate that thi honor was merited. I wish I could say the same for all their colleagues from oth er sections; but they seem, too often, to regard the senate as more or less of a pri vate asset, which can be utilized for per sonal advantage. ft has been said in recent years of Mor gan and Pettus that they almost consti tuted a third party in the senate. At the same time, they were far from acting as i unit on every issue that came before j them. Two old-line democrats as they ! were, residents of the same town, and : friends for sixty years, they were by no means identical in their poli;ical opinions. It must be remembered that in the south the antagonism between individual demo crats is sometimes as great as that in the north between the democrat and the re publican. W’hen Mr. Pettus said of Sena- ; tor Morgan, “1 have been his associate amd j idversary over sixty years,” he said some- i thing which would be almost Inexplicable to the average northern man; but it is the • polite expression of a positive fact. The j :wo senators differed so often that a flip- • 5ant newspaper article not long ago sug- j jested that their one bond of union was j i common fondness for chewing tobacco. j But of neither man has it ever been said ■ hat he was anything but absolutely hon- j fst and high minded. Against neither has ! t been charged that he represented any- j hing in the senate except the people of lis state and the people of the United ■ states. Their strongest political adver- j arles in the senate regarded Morgan and ^ettus with sincere respect and warm per- j onal affection—a fitting tribute to states nen of so admirable a type. I I The College Girl’s Rescue. "I believe in a college education for f’.rls,” said Admiral Erbln, at a dinner at Iamestown. "but the girl who comes out if college thinking that she knows a great leal has not profited by her four years’ ■ourse. For, after all, it Is but a smatter ing that a college education gives us. "Most girls know this. Many do not. rhe latter sort carry themselves super fluously, use big words, correct Ignorant lersons’ grammar, and fail to make a good narrlage. In fact, they create a bad lm iresslon everywhere. "Thus there was a girl, a Vassar girl, vho got caught by the Incoming tide out in a rock. The tide rose higher and hlgh ir, and the girl shrieked and screamed nadly for help. "Help came at last in the shape of a frizzled old shellback in a flat-bottomed >r,ai. The girl, as soon as she saw the iheilback, recovered her poise, and said in ler most affected manner: “ ‘Ah, I knew some succor would come f I but continued calling indefatigably.’ "The shellback scowled. " 'Wall, miss,’ he said, 'if that’s how ye ixprtss yer gratitood, the sucker’ll be turned If he don’t row back without ye.’ ’’ Head and Feet. Prom the Philadelphia Press. , “Miss Gidday,” remarked Mr. Walz, “Is i splendid dancer; so light on her feet.” , "Think so?” said Mr. Grouch. "Oh, yes; light In the extreme.” I "Huh! unfortunately she’s just as light n the other extreme.” Winnow s soorrama nm ror CMldnm ••thing; softens the sums, reduces inflemmsnon. si sjspsin. cures wied ontle. tl> sent' a touttls i One Way to Stop Her. 1 From Londpn Tit-Bits. Small Boy (In awed tones)—Pa, do you 1 mow, I looked Into the parlor Just now, ind what do you think I saw? Father—Can’t guess, my boy. Small Boy—Why, Sister Polly was sitting in the piano stool, and her young man was , meeltng in front of her holding her. . lands like glue. Father—Ah! sensible young fellow, that, de was holding her hands to prevent her 1 flaying the piano. ] fsToTwOMAN”” AND CONSIDER I First, that almost every operation in our hospitals, performed upon women, becomes necessary because of neglect of such symptoms as Backache, Irregularities, Displace ments, Pain in the Side, Dragging Sensations, Dizziness and Sleepless ness. ... ~ , Second, that Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound, made from native roots and herbs, has cured more cases of female ills than any other one medicine known. It reg ulates, strengthens and restores women's health and is invaluable in preparing women for child-birth and during the period of Change of Life. i Third, the great volume of unsolicited and grateful testimonials on file at the Pinkham Laboratory at Lynn, Mass, many of which are from I time to time being published by special permission, give absolute evi dence of the value of Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound and Mrs. Pinkham's advice. i Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound For more than 30 years has been curing Female Complaints, such as Dragging Sensations, Weak Back, Falling and Displacements, In Iflammation and Ulceration, and Organic Diseases, and it dissolves and expels Tumors at an early stage. Mrs. Pinkham’s Standing Invitation to Women Women suffering from any form of female wealfness are invited to writeMrs. Pinkham, Lynn, Mass, foradvice. SheistheMrs. Pinkham who has been advising sick women free of charge for more than twenty years, and before that she assisted her mother-in-law, Lydia E. Pink? ham in advising. Thus she is especially well qualified to guide sick women back to health. Write today, don’t wait nntil too late. I f ——I I « COMMON SENSE Leads most Intelligent people to use only mecniines of known composition. There fore It Is thai Dr. Pierce’s medicines, tie makebs^of wHjch print every ingredient enteringhlo them upon the bottle wrap pers and attest its correctness under oath, are daily growing in favor. The com position of DrJPierce’s medicines is open to everybody.VDr. Pierce heinc desirous of having the search lif-ht of investlga^ tion turned fully upon his formula?, being confident that the better f lie composition of ineseTraeilicines is known the more will their great curative merits he"recog nizefl^. lieing wholly made of~thp active medicinal principles extracted from na tive forest roots, by exact processes original with Dr. Pierce, and without the use of a drep of alcohol, triple-refined and chemically pure glycerine being used In stead in extracting and preserving the curative virtues residing in tho roots employed, those medicines are entirely free from tie objection of doing harm by creating an appetite for either al coholic beverages or habit - forming drugs. Examine tho formula on their bottle wrappers—tho same as sworn to by Dr. Pierce, and you will find that his "Golden Medieal Discovery,” tho great, blood-purifier, stomach tonic and bowel regulator—the medicine which, while not recommended to cure consumption in Its advanced Stages (no mcdlcino will do that) yet does cure all those catarrhal condi tions of head and throat, weak stomach, torpid liver and bronchial troubles', weak lungs and hang-on-coughs, which, if neg lected or badly treated lead up to and finally terminate in consumption. Take tho "Golden Medical Discovery w in time and it is not likely to disappoint you if only you give it a thorough and fair trial. Don’t expect miracles. It won’t do supernatural things. You must exercise your patience and persevere in its use for a reasonable length of time to get its full benefits. The ingredients of which Dr. Pierce’s medicines are composed have the unqualified endorsement Of scores of medical leaders—bettor than any amount’ of lay, or non-professional, testimonials. They are not given awav to ha experi mented with but are sold by all dealers in medicines at reasonable prices. STOLL’S STAY-THEBE EARMARKS These marks are aged on the Sear of all 'kinds of stock and are the best and cheapest mark ulade, possessing many'superior paint*’-of merjt. They -will not -nst nor corrode, <cannot be torn 3Ut. Write for free samples and convince yourBelf. I. C. si OIL, 1622 E. Court St., Beatrice, Nebraska BIG WINNINGS ON THE DERBY. lashing In to the Tune of Hundreds of Thousands of Dollars. The $50,000 which John W. Gates is laid to have won on Nealon the other lay look modest after all compared vith some winnings which have been fathered in by betters on the English Derby. Sir Joseph Hawley on three occasions von from %50,000 to £60,000. viz.: On reddington in .1851, Musjid Jn 1859 and -leadsman in 1858. He would have won . is much on Blue Gown in 1869 had he lot hedged. The largest sum ever taken Ky one nan on the Derby is said by Bally's Magazine to have gone to Mr. .Naylor >n Macaroni in 1863, but the amount is lot stated. Mr. Chaplin won a larger imount on Hermit in 1867, but did not fet half of it. Mr. Merry was said to have won £100,000 on Thormanby, but the real imount was £70,000. The half length by which the Irish :olt Barbarian was beaten by Daniel D’Rourke in 1852 made a difference of £90,000 to Bookmaker Davies. He lost £70,000 on the Epsom week when West Australian won the Derby. The largest amount that was ever itood on one horse was by Mr. Jacques md his confederate. This was on Mil lew, who was backed to wjn £270,000 n the Derby won by Yoltiguer. No bookmaker has won the Derby since Caractacus carried it off in 1862. tie was ridden by a stable Tad, and .vas the property of Charles Snewing. Wise. From the Detroit Free Press. “Do you know,” she said, softly, to the -oung man who eat In the hammock with ler, "I dreampt last night that we were ngaged.” “Isn't It strange,” said the young man, luickly, “how still the lake Is today?” He had been caught on that game once iefore and was dead wise. Playing Animal. The children were playing a game in vhich each chose to represent some anl nal. and acted as much like It as they :ould. One boy kept very quiet, and tha eacher said to him: “Why don't you take part In the game, oo?” “Sh-h-h!” answered the boy; “I'm a cat catching a mouse-hole; don’t scare the nouse.” When a fellow tells a girl she Is natchl.ess It means that he doesn't vant her to remain so. For every man who has his bust In he Hall of Fame there are a million lusted outside.