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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 3, 1908)
..-... -..— ----.. __THE_. j Story of Francis Cludde I A Romance of Queen Mary's Reign. EY STANLEY J. WEYMAN. CHAPTp:R XXI—Continued. Hi- looked up, ani our eyes met.. Wf fa&d at one another. "Why are you here?" he said cur iously. "Why did they leave you? Why were you the one to atop to set m<* fme. Master Carey?” 'My name Is not Carey," I an ew <T el) "What Is It. then?” he asked care lessly "Cludde." I answered sofely. "Cludde;" He called It out. Even his self mastery could not cope w ith the surprt-o "Cludde." he said again ■—said It twice in a lower voice. "Yes, Cludde." I answered, meeting and y i shrinking from his question ing ' yi - "my name l-' Cludde So Is y,,jr .. I tried ' I live your life, be cause I learned from Mistress Anne X paused. I shrank from telling him i that which, as 1! seemed to rne, would strike him to the ground In shame and horror Hut he had no fc.i r. "What?" he cried. "What did you , lea rn ?" "That you are my father," I an- 1 ■wared slowly 'I am Francis Clud de. the son whom you deserted many year* ago and to whom Hlr Anthony gave a home at Coton." X I expected him to do anything ex cept what he did. He stared at rne with astonished eye* for a minute, and then a low whistle Issued from hl» lip* "My son, are you? My son!” he ■aid coolly. "And how long have you known thl*. young sir?" "Since yesterday." I murmured. The words he had used on that morning •t Santon when he had bidden me ; die and rot were fre*h In my memory —In my memory, not In hi*. I re- , called his treachery to the duchess, ; 111* pursuit of us. hi* departure with Anne, the words In which he. had i cursed me. He remembered apparently | none of these things, but simply gazed at trie with a thoughtful smile. ”1 wish I had known It before," he ! ■aid at IhhF "Things might have been different. A pretty dutiful son you have been." The sneer did me good. It recalled to my mind what Master Bertie hud •aid. I here can be no question of duty 1 between us," I answered firmly. "What duty I owe to any one of my family ; I owe to my uncle.” "Then why have you told me this?" ' “Because 1 thought It rlgh you | should know It," I answered, “were It only that, knowing It, we may go different ways. We have nearly done one another a mischief more than once," X added gravely. lie laughed. He was not one whit abashed by the discovery, nor awed, nor cast down. There was even In his cynical face a gleam of kindliness and pride as he scanned me. We were al most of u height, 1 the taller by an Inch or two, and In our features I believe there was a likeness, though not such as to Invite remark. "You have grown to be n chip of the old block,” he said coolly. "I would as soon have you for a son as another. I think on the whole I am pleased "you talked of Providence Just now" -—this with a laugh of serene amuse ment—“and perhaps you were right. Perhaps there Is such a thing “For I nin growing old, and, lo. It (fives me a son to take care of me." I shook my head. I could never he Ahat kind of son to him. "Walt a hit," he Hald, frr wiling -slightly. "You think your side -s up and mine Is down, and I can do you no good now, but only harm. You are aslnmtrst of me. Well, wait,” he con tinued. Betiding confidently, "Do not be too sure that I cannot help you. I have been wrecked a dozen times, ! Unit I never yet failed to find a boat ttlisi would take me to shore.” i .Yes; he was so arrogant In pride of bis many deceits that an hour after heaven had stretched out Its hand to save him he denied Its power and took the glory to himself. I did not know what to siiv to him. how to undeceive him, how to tell him that It was not the failure of Ills treachery which ahamed me, hut the treachery Itself. I could only remain silent. And so he mistook me. and after pon dering a moment with his chin In Ills band he continued: • I have a plan, my 1ml. The queen dies. Well I am no bigot—long live the queen and the Protestant religion! The down w ill he up and the up down, mid tin1 Protestants will be everything. H will go hard with those who cling to the old faith." 11" looked at me with a crafty smile. Ills head on one side. "I do not understand," I snld, coldly ' "Then listen. Fir Anthony will hoid ’ by Ids religion, lie used lo he i chol eric gentleman and as obstinate as a mule, lie will need but to he pricked tip a little, and he will get Into trouble villi the authorities us sure as eggs are eggs. 1 will answer for 11. And then" "Well?" 1 »ald grimly. How was I to observe even a show of respect for bliii when 1 was quivering with fierce wrath and abhorrence? "bo you think that will benefit you?" 1 cried. "Do you think that you are so high In favor with Cecil and the Protestants that they Will set you In Sir Anthony's place? You'" He looked at me still more craftily, not put out by my Indignation, hut father amused by It, "No. lad. no' me," he replied, with tolerant good nature. "I am somewhat Vilown upon of late. Hut Providence has not given me hack my son for noth ing. I am not alone In the world now I must retnetnhi r my family. I must think a little of others as well as of myself." "What do you mean?" 1 said, recoil lug. He Hemmed me for a moment, with Ms eyes half shut Ids head on one side. Then h" laughed, a cynical, jarring laugh. 'flood boy!" he said, “Excellent boy! He knows no more than he Is told. His hands are clean, and he has friends upon the winning side who will not see him lose a chutiee, should a chance turn up He satisfied. Keep your hands clean If you like, boy. We understand one another." If* lung 1 led again and turned away, and. much as 1 dreaded and disliked him, there was something In the indom itable nature of the man which wrung from ib* a meed of admiration. Could the best of men have recovered mote quickly from despair? Could the best of men, their plans falling, have begun to spin fresh webs with equal patience .' Could the most courageous and faithful of those who have tried to work the world's bettering huve faced the down fall of their hopes with stouter hearts, with more genuine resignation? Bad as he was. he had courage and endur ance beyond the common. He came back to me when he had gone a few paces. “Do you know* where rny sword is?” j he asked in a matter of fact tone, as one might ask a Question of an old , comrade I found it cast aside behind lh* door. H“ took it from m*-. grumbling over a i nkk in the edge, which he had caused j by some desperate blow when he was j seized. He fastened It on with an oath, i 1 could not look at th#* sword without remembering how nearly he had taken my life with it. The recollection did ; not trouble him In tlm slightest. Now farewell!” h»* said, '-arelejis3y. , I am going to turn over a new leaf j and begin returning good for evil. Do j you go to your friends and do your ! work and I will go to rny friends and j do mine.” Then, with a nod. h* walked briskly away, and I heard him climb the ladder and depart. What was he going to do? I was so deeply amazed by the interview' that l did not understand. 1 had thought hirn a wk ked man, but had not conceived i the hardness of his nature. Ah I stood alone looking around the vault I could hardly believe that I had met and spoken to my father and told him I v.aH ids son - and this was ail! I could hardly believe that he had gone away with this knowledge, unmoved and un !'■ pentant, alike unwarned by the Proc idence which had used me to thwart Ids schemes and untouched by the ben r- fleet ice which had thrice held him back from the crime of killing me aye, proof even against the long suffering which had plucked hirn from the abyss and given him one more chance of repent ance. I found Master Bertie In the stables waiting for me with some impatience, iff which, upon the whole, I was glad, for I had no wish to be closely ques tioned, and the account I gave him of the interview might at another time have seemed disjointed and incoherent. He listened to it, however, without a remark, and his next words made It dear that he had other matters In his mind. “1 do not know what to do about fetching the duchess over,” he said. “This news seems to be true, and she ought to be here.” ' ertainiy, j agreed. ' The country ip general is well af feclen to the Print'***# Elizabeth.'’ he • ontlnued. "Yet the Interests of the bishops, of the Spanish faction and of Home of the council will lie iri giving trouble. To avoid this we should show our strength. Therefore I want the duchess to come over with all speed. Will you fetch her?" he added sharply, turning to me. "Will I?" I cried !n surprise. "Yes, you. I cannot well go myself at this crisis. Will you go instead?" "Of course I will," I answered. And the prospect cheered me wonder fully. It gave me something to do and opened rny eyes to the great change of which Ponruddocke had been the her ald, a change which was even then be ginning. Ah we rode down Hlghgate hill that day messengers were speeding north and nouth and east and west to Norwich and Bristol and Canterbury and Coventry and York with the tidings that the somber rule under which Eng land had groaned for five years and more was coming to an end. If in a dozen towns of England they roped their bellH afresh; if in every country, as Penruddoeke had prophesied, they got their tar barrels ready; if all, save a few old fashioned folk and a few gloomy bigoth and hysterical women, awoke ns from an evil dream; If even sensible men saw In the coming of the voting queen a panacea for all their Ills— quenching of Smlthfleld fires a Calais recovered, a cure for the worthless coinage which hampered trade, and a riddance of worthless foreigners who plundered It, with better roads, purer justice, a fuller exchequer, more fa vorabl** reasons—If England read all thin In that news of Penruddockes, was It not something to us also? It was Indeed. We were saved at the last moment from tin* dangerous enter prise on which we had rashly em barked. We now hail such prospects before us only the success of that scheme could have ordinarily opened. Ease and honor instead of the gallows and to lb* warm Instead of creaking In the wind! Thinking of this. 1 fell into a better frame of mind as I Jogged along toward London. For what, after all. was my father to me, that his ex istence should make me unhappy or *ob mint* of all pleasure? I hail made a plnce for myself in the world. I had earned friends for myself. He might taki away my pride In the one. but lie could never rob me of the love of the others of those who had eaten and drunk and fought and suffered beside me and for whom I, too, had fought and suffered! • * * • « • • "A strange time for the swallows to come back." said my lady, turning to smile at me ns 1 rode on her off side. It would have been strange Indeed If there had been swallows In the air. for It was the end of December. The roads "ere frost bound and the trees leaf less. The east wind, gathered force in its rush across the Essex marshes, whirled before It the last trophies of Halnault forest and seemed as It whistled by our ears and shaved our faces to grudge us the sin Iter to which we were hastening. The long train be hind us for the good times of which wo had talked so often hud come— were full of the huge fire we expected to find at the inn at Barking, our last stain* on the road to London. And if Mn* duchess and I bore the cold more patiently it was probably because we had imiin fond for thought and perhaps thicker rainment. "Do not shake your head." she con tinued, glancing at me with mischief lu her eyes, "and flatter yourself you "'ill not go hack, but will go on nmk I lug yourself and some one else un happy. You will do nothing of the ! kind, Frani is. Before the spring comes i you and l will ride over the drawbridge I at roton End, or l am a Dutehwom I an!" 1 "I cannot see that things are | • hanged." I said? "Not changed?" she replied. "When I you left, you were nobody. Now you | are somebody, if it be only in having | a sister with a dozen serving men in i 'o r train. Leave it to me. And now. thank heaven, we are here! I am so ! stiff and cold you must lift me down. ; Wo have not to ride far after dinner, ! I hope." i "'>nl\ seven miles," I answered as j the host, who had been warned by an | outrider to expect us. came running I out with a tail at his heels. "What laws from London. Master Landlord " I said to him as he led us .through tiie kitchen, where there was I Indeed a great fire, but no chimney, • and to a smaller room possessing both : these luxuries, 'is all quiet?" [ "Certainly, your worhlp," he replied. bowing ari rubbing his hands There never was such an accession, rar more ale drunk, nor powder burned—and I have seen three—and there was pretty shouting at old King Harry's, but not Ilk* this Such a fair young queen, mer. report, v *r. 1 >ok of the stout kinir about her. and is prudent and discreet as f she h 1 changed heads with Fir William Cecil. God bless her, say I and send h^r a wise husband!” “And a loving n.e," quoth my lady prettily Amen “ “I ar. g. \ ah has gon° off well,** I ' ■ v • :r. e.j kJ: g to th^ duchess as I turned to the blazing hearth. “If th^re had been blows. I would fain have bee" here to strike on**." S'iv. «- r.o; finger has wagged eg.ijnst her." the landlord answered, kicking the log? together, "to speak of, ’hat is your rship I did hear today of i little trouble down In Warwick shire. out it is no more than a storm In a wash tub, lam told.” “In Warwickshire?'’ I said, arrested In the act of taking off my cloak by the familiar name. “In what part, my man?" ' I am not clear about that, sir, not knowing the country,” he replied, “but I heard that a gentleman there had fallen foul of her grace's orders about nureh mar ter.s and beaten the officers *cnt to see them carried out. and. that, wh'-n the sheriff remonstrated^ with him. he beat him too. But I warrant they will soon bring him to his senses.’* “I>id you hear his name?” I asked. Th'-re was a natural misgiving In rny mind. Warwicjcfthlre was large, and yef something in the tale smacked of Fir Anthony ' I did hear P,” the host, answered, scratching hfs head, "but I cannot call it to mind. I think I should know it If I he;,rd It.” Was It Fir Anthony fTudde?” It was that very same name!" he exclaimed, 'Tapping his hands In won der. “To be sure! Your worship has It put'” I slipped back Into my cloak again and snatched up my hat and whip, but the duchess was as quick. She stepped between me and the door. “Fit clown, Francis!” she said Imperi ously. “What would you be at?” “What would I be at?” I cried, with emotion. “I would be with my uncle. I shall take horse at once and ride Warwickshire way with all speed. It Is possible that I may be in time to avert the consequences. At least J can see that rny cousin comes to no harm." “Good lad,” she said placidly, “you shall start tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?" I cried Impatiently. “But time Is everything, madam.” “You shall start tomorrow,” she re peated. “Time 1h not everything, fire brand! If you start today, what can you do? Nothing! No more than If the‘thing had happened three years ago, before you met me. But tomorrow, when you have seen the secretary of state, as I promise you you shall, this evening if he he In London—tomorrow you shall go in a different character and with credentials.” “You will do this for me?” I ex claimed. leaping up and taking her hand, for I saw in a moment the wis dom of the course she proposed. "You, will get me” “I will get you something to the pur pose,” my lady answered roundly. "Something that shall save your uncle If there be any power In England can save him You shall have It, Frank,” she added, her color rising and her »*yes filling as I kissed her hand, “though I have to take master secre tary by tiie beard!” CHAPTER XXII. Late, ns I have heard, on the after- I r oon of November 20, 1558, a man rid ing between Oxford and Worcester with the news of the quean's death caught sight of the gate-way tower at Coton End, which 1h plainly visible from the road. Though he had already drunk that day as much ale as would have sufficed him for a week when the queen was. well, yet much wants more. He calculated he had time to stop and taste the squire’s brewing, which he Judged, from the look of the tower, might be worth his news, and he rode through the gate and railed at his nag for stumbling. Half way across the chase he met Sir Anthony. The old gentleman was walking out, with his staff in his hand and his clogs behind him, to take the air before supper. The man, while he was still a hundred paces off, began to Wave 1:1s hat and shout something which ale and excitement rendered un intelligible. ‘What Is the matter?" said Sir An thany to himself, and he stood still. “The queen is dead!” shouted the messenger, swaying in his saddle. The knight stared. "Aye, sure!” he ejaculated after awhile, and he took off his hat. "Is it true, inarf.'” "\h true as that I left London yes terday afternoon and have never drawn rein since!" swore the knave, who had been three days on the road and had drunk at every hostel and at half the manor houses between London and Oxford. *'C5od rest her soul!” said Sir An thony, piously, still In somewhat of a maze*. "And do you come In! Come In, man, and take something." Hut the messenger had got his for mula by heart and was not to be de frauded of any part of it. (Continued Next Week.) The Shepherd of King Admetus. There came a youth upon the earth. Some thousand years ago. Whose slender hands were nothing worth. Whether to plough, or reap, or sow. Kpon an empty tortoise-shell lie stretched some chords, and drew Music that made men’s bosoms swell Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew. Then King Admetus, one who had Pure taste by right divine, Decreed ills singing not too bad To hear between the cups of wine; And so. well pleased wrlth being soothed Into a sweet half-sleep, Three times his kingly beard he smoothed. And made him viceroy o’er his sheep. | His words were simple words enough. And yet he used them so. That wh.it in other mouths was rough In hla seemed musical and low. j Men called him but a shiftless youth, j In whom no good they saw; And yet, unwittingly, In truth, They made his careless words their law. They knew' not how he learned it all, For idly, hour by hour, He sat and watched the dead leaves fall. Or mused upon a common flower. I It seemed the loveliness of things Did teach him all their use. For, In mere weeds, and stones, and springs, He found a healing power profuse. Men granted that his speech was wise, i Hut, when a glance rhey caught Of his slim grace and woman’s eyes. They laughed, and called him guod-for* naught. | Yet, after he was dead and gone. And e’en his memory dim. Earth seemed more sweet to live upon, More full of love, because of him. And day by day more holy gr»»w Each spot when* he had trod. Till after-poets only knew Their first-born brother as a god. —James Russell Lowell. The farmer should take great nrlde In his tr^es and make a habit of plant ing a given number every year and preserving them. MITCHELL’S CORN PALACE. September 28 to October 3, 1903. The agricultural exhibit at the Mitch ell corn palace this fall will undoubted ly be the finest collection of farm pro ducts ever exhibited in the state. The management has offered some very at tractive cash prizes and the several counties that have been fortunate enough to secure space are putting forth some strenuous efforts to win first prize. The bountiful crops just harvested will afford the exhibitors an pportunity to make a most excellent showing. Tr.aviu's concert band and symphony orchestra have been engaged for two concerts each day for the entire week. This celebrated band, during the pres ent season, has delighted the thousands who have thronged the White City. Chicago's popular summer resort. M. Thaviu is one of the rising band lead ers of the continent and the Immense success which has attended each ap pearance of his band has demonstrated that he plays music that touches the popular chord. The arrangement of M. Thavlu's program deserves a word of commendation for the excellent judg ment used. The weight of classic num bers is lifted by airy little popular se lections which serve as a frothy deli cacy to render even more palatable the heavier offerings. Anew feature this year will be the Introduction of high class vaudeville which will make up about one-half of the program. The management has been able to secure five superb acts, the cream of the' Orpheum circuit. Henri French, acknowledged the lead ing impersonator on the stage today, is a whole show in himself. His imper sonation of some of the world’s greatest musicians Is immense and captures his audience at once. M. Henri is a nifty little man who Is sure to score a win ner on the program, as he has done In all tiie leading cities of the United States. Lew Sully, the celebrated monologlst, will furnish the fun, his side splitting Jokes and comical ex pressions have made him the Idea! of the Orpheum circuit. Mazuz and Mazette, the acrobatic comedians, keep their audience In a continuous uproar from the moment they appear on the stage until the curtain falls. Their wonderful gym nastic feats combined with their fun provoking attitudes beat a circus. Iiottina and Stevens, the beautiful lady dancers, execute tt)e most difficult dances with an ease and grace that is charming. They carry their own spe cial scenery and by the aid of varied colored lights make a beautiful stage setting. Throughout the entire Orpheum circuit they have received the most flattering press notices. Another act that must be seen to be appreciated is "The Laurlent Trio," These people present some of the most marvelous feats of strength ever at tempted. The above five complete acts will be given at each concert acompanled by the celebrated Symphony orchestra, which will prove one of the most in teresting and amusing programs ever presented to a western audience. As the corn palace has In the past en- i deavored to present to its thousands of annual visitors the best entertain ment money could procure, so this year neither money nor time has been spared in securing what we believe will prove the most entertaining program ever presented in the state. Besides the above mentioned acts, which appear at each concert, the man agement has provided an excellent line of free street attractions. More money has been expended on this feature than in previous years In order that this part of the entertainment should keep pace with the rest. All railroads in the state, in response to the repeated demands of their pa trons who wish to visit the palace this year, have granted a half fare rate from all parts of tiie state, good for the entire week. This annual harvest festival has come to be recognized as the most elaborate affair of Its kind in the world. Most of our citizens, however, fail to- recognize the vast amount of good that has come to our state through this agency alone. The fame of Mitchell's corn palace has spread throughout tiie United States and, in fact, all over the ctvtrtzed world. Through this medium the great agrieultural possibilities of the com monwealth have been made public. • The great tide of immigration that bus been pouring Into every county in the state, from al! parts of the world, for tiie past six or eight years, is the best evidence of what the corn palace j has done In the way of advertising the state’s resources. Remember the dates. September 28 to October 3. inclusive. INDIANS AS CATTLE FEEDERS. J. U. Eddy, Indian agent at the Tongue ! river reservation. Is confident that cattle raising will make the virile tribes of In- j dlans self-sustaining. He says: "It has been claimed that tho Indian ' will never become a successful cattle rais er because of his partiality for ponies and his slaughtering proclivities, but my ex perience tells me that Indians will not kill young cattle more promiscuously than white men. If there is one thing an In- ! dlan likes more than another It Is the good , things of life, and If he can be assured of a means of satisfying these desires his ambition Is aroused. I,ast year when wo shipped the first lot of cattle they were suspicious that they would not see the proceeds, but this time not a semblance of that feeling could be detected. The young Indians as a rule are enthusiastic. Last spring we branded 925 calves and hope to brand 400 more this fall Possibly 10 per cent are showing no Interest, but many are posting up on the principles of breeding, talk cattle constantly and are planning winter hay-feeding. We could have sold these cattle to government beef contractors who furnish tho reset vatlon with 800,000 pounds of meat annually, hut as their contract price Is $1.32'4 i>er hun dred weight It Is evident these cattle had quality that did not warrant such a sacri fice. By this means the Indian can be taught that his product has a market val ue, the effect being to individualize him aruf stimulate a purdinsing Interest " According to Mr. Eddy, the Northern Cheyennes number 1,450 persons. During the long struggle for the possession of the northwest between t h>» two races the Cheyennes were the fiercest foe eneount-1 ered by the white men They are still vir ile. Intelligent and remarkably free from the diseases that nave decimated the ab original dwellers of North America. In two years not a drop of liquor has been used on the reservation and the Northern Cheyennes promise not only to he self sustaining. but prosperous an a basis ol cattle raising. DANGER OF REARING HORSE. Rearing In horses Is a bad habit and one not easy to break. A horse which is given to rearing Is a danger ous one under saddle us the rider never knows when the animal will fall clear backward and put him underneath. Most riders when a horse tears up will loosen the lines nnd ding to the horn or pommel of the saddle or grab the horse's mane. This does not give pro tection. The best thing to do when a horse starts to reai Is to quickly and violently pull the head to one side. This wilt put him off Ills balance so he cannot rear up, but the rider must be quick. _ GIRL TELLS KING HE IS VERY UGLY Alfonso, While Stranded at a Wayside Inn, Is Amused by Innocent Child. Madrid, Special King Alfonso re cr.tly started from the palace, accom panied only by a marquis and a chauf , feur, .:i a new motor car which he was anxious to try. He did the driving him and for the first DO miles all went ; splendidly till suddenly, in a lonely part of the road, the car stopped. Xo amount : of work would make the machinery j turn. The only habitation In sight was a poor, small wayside inn, to which, after | sending the chauffeur to the nearest railway station to telegraph for another i car. the king and the marquis bent heir steps. In their motoring clothes they were not recognized. As the after noon was chilly and the drive had de veloped his appetite, his majesty de j mar.ded some ham and eggs, which | were served and which lie ate with j | mu h relish, conversing and exchanging jokes meanwhile with the landlord and j the few peasants who happened to be j | in there and who naturally had not | the slightest idea of the king s identity. Enter tlwn on the scene a little girl of about 12. Don Alfonso called her j to his side and inquired what she had come for. I have come for some wine for my father,’’ replied the child. "Tell me." said Don Alfonso, "have ’ | you seen the king since he has been at : his palace here?" ”Ves, once,” answered the child, "and ; although he wore a beautiful uniform, j upon my word he was ugly, very ugly. Sow the queen is as fair as an angel, j and so beautiful, but the king is really A very ugly man, and I am very much disappointed that I have never yet seen the little prince of the Asturias.” The king was much amused and laughed heartily at the child's frank- i ness. --- , .__ Popular Star Has First “Liner" Drama r -1 New York, Special: Miss Maude Adams Is to have the first sea written play, so far as the marine records go. The man who wrote this ocean going drama is Had don Chambers, and he has delivered the manuscript to Charles Frohman. It is a new version of “Joan of Arc” and Miss Adams, of course, wlLl pLay the maid of Orleans. Mr. Chambers says that just before Mr. Frohman left Liverpool ou the Cunarder Mauretania, about 10 days ago, the Ameri can manager ‘‘shanghaied” him, took him aboard the Cunarder and said, “Haddon, 1 have work for you to do*” The American manager pm in the au thor’s hands a draft of the play, written in blank verse by -Miss Anna Schwanick. ••Now,” said he, "I want that put in prose, and where it may be somewhat ver bose and over literary, fix it up. Make it a very live and spectacular drama. That’s what Miss Adams and I want.” This all happened before the steamship had fairly left the pier. Mr. Chambers disappeared into his cabin, and, seeing no one but Mr. Frohman for consultations about the play, worked busily night and day over the manuscript during the lin er’s swift passage to New York. BLIND GIRL OWES SIGHT TO QUEEN Helena of Italy Has Poor Child Treated by the Leading Oculist of Turin. rtorrt*. Special: A little girl owes the restoration of her sight tiv tlie sympathy, tenderness and perhaps better, the finan cial assistance of Queen Helena, of Italy. One day when her majesty was driving with King Victor Emmanuel In a valley of upper Piedmont, a baby girl was led forward to hand her a bunch of flowers. As she stooped to kiss the child, who kept her eyes cast d-.wn, Queen Helena said: “Look up, my dear, that i may kiss you.” Then as the little one turned her eyes up ward, the queen noticed that she was blind. The child was at onco taken Into the royal carriage and driven to her mother's cottage. A doctor had said that the tight could be restored by an operation, hut the mother was full of ignorant fears and would not consent. Eventually she yielded to the* queen’s persuasions, and the little one was sent to Turin and handed over to a leading oculist, who performed the operation with complete success. The girl returned to her native valley the oth^r day, not only seeing as well as anyone, hut also l nkm with presents from her royal benefactress. She Was Lonely. From the Delineator. Mary Helen, 4 years old, Is very brave, and is usually perfectly willing for her mother Li leave her after site has put her to bed and has given her her favorite doll. But one night after she had been left a short w Pile she •. ailed loudly for her motliei. "Why, Mary Helen!” her mother asked, "what Is the matter with you'.’” Im tired of staying up here* with nobody but God arul my dolly. 1 want somebody with skin on,” sho sobbed. There Is an asparagus bed covering | 20 acres in California. Not the Very Last One. Jinks.—How long have you lived With your wife? Blinks.—Which one’ Jinks.—The last one. Blinks.—Oh. I hope I haven't lived With my last one yet. Way Up. "Arc- you thinking of getting a di vorce?” “Not at the present rates of ali mony." Nothing but the Truth. Bronson.—Human sympathy reminds me of the early strawberry box. Woodson.—In what way? Bronson.—The bottom of It is very near the top. Too Bad. Mrs. Kidder—Her husband was get ting bett. r, but yesterday he suffered a relapse. Mr. Kidder—I guess he saw the bill for his wife's spring outfit. One Strike at Gplf. Goodman.—Do you know what be romes of little boys that use bad word» when they are playing marbles? The Boy.—Yep. Dey grow up an* plays golf. A Bad Break. Caller.—Your baby looks sweet enough to eat. Preacher's Wife.—I hope not; we start as missionaries to the Cannibal islands next month Called Down. —The Boss—I understand you've been kicking because you've got so much to do. The Clerk—Well—er—yes— yes—I—er did—think The Boss—After this I'll see that you get so much more to do that you won’t have time to think. GRAB BRINGS GOLD DOUBLOON TO HIM That’s Why J. R. Chard Believes He Is Close to Hoard of an Old Buccaneer Band. Greenwich, Conn.—J. R Chard, a wealthy resident of this town and next door neighbor of E. C. Benedict, and who has been spending the month near New Smyrna. Fla., believes he has found the spot where a vast amount of Spanish treasure Is located, and is now carrying on operations for Its recovery. While fishing a short time ago he landed a huge crab, sticking among th® claws of which he found a round cor roded piece of metal. Mr. Chard scraped the piece and discovered that it was a Spanish doubloon bearing the date of 1608. Since then he has made search of th® traditions of the place and learned that early In the seventeenth century a band of Spanish buccaneers made its head quarters near the place. He says th® doubl'oon must have come from the near vicinity where he caught the crab, because the creature could not have gone far without the piece of metal slipping from it. Searching the bottom nearby. h« found what seemed to be a piece of metal stanchion of pre-revolutionary make. He is so sure he is on the traci of a great discovery that he has ex tended his vacation by a month, and says he will stay on the spot and spend what money is necessary to make a thorough search. An Earmark. Evelyn—He's a very learned man. You wouldn’t think so, would you? Natica—Oh! yes; I suspected it right away. Evelyn—Indeed ? Natica—Yes; he makes me tired. REMAINS THE SAME. Well Brewed Poxtarn Alwafl Palme table. The flavor of Postum, when *> ikI according to directions, Is always ttie same—mild, distinctive, and palatable. It contains no harmful substance like caffeine, the drug In coffee, and hence may be used with beneflt at all times. Believing that coffee was the cause of my torpid liver, sick headache and misery In many ways," writes an Ind. Indy, “I quit and bought a package ot Postum about a year ago. My husband and I have been so well pleased that we have continued to drink Postum ever since. We like the taste of Postum better than coffee, as It has always the same pleasant flavor, while coffee changes Its taste with about every new combination or blend. "Since using Postum 1 have had no more attacks of gall colic, the heavi ness has left my chest, and the old, common, every-day headache Is a thing unknown. ’ "There’s a Reuson.” Name given by Postum Co.. Battle fieek. Mich Read "The Road to Well •Tile." In pkgs. fiver read the above letter? A new one appears from time to time They are genuine, true, and full »l human interest.