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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 7, 1909)
■ i—Mill ■mi IIIIIIIWii IBW——MBM—— ITHe Crime ©I “'I 6ke Boulevard] | B3PBM—aflBaBC*—a CHAPTKU XIII. Continued. “Look, look keenly.” went on the manager "Von will see your brother domateriallze after becoming changed In color. The flesh tvlll disappear, and you will see his skeleton. Think, | llilnk, my brothers, this is the fate which awaits you p rhaps soon on go ing away from here. Think <»f the va rious illnesses and deaths by accidents which await you. Contemplate the pKigie spectacle offered by the Cabaret du Sfiueletto and remember that you are dust and that l«» dust you must re turn. Make wisely this reflection, which the intoxicated man made to another man in like condition, but asleep, ‘And that is how I shall he on Sunday.’ While waiting, my brothers and sisters, for nothingness, look at the dematerializatlon of your contem porary, If you please.” The play of lights, while the man was talking, began to throw a greenish pallor and to make spots at first trans- ! parent upon the orbits of the eyes; then, little by little, the spots seemed j to grow stronger, to blacken, to en large. iThe features, lightly picked out. appeared t<> change gradually, t<> take on gray and confused tints, to slowly disappear as under a veil, a damp va por which covered, devoured, that face, now unrecognizable! It has been said that the manner in which this phenorn anon was managed was a remarkable thing. Jt Is true, for this human body peemed literally to dissolve before this curious crowd, now become silent and frightened. The work of death was accompli shed there publicly, thanks to the illusion of lighting. The livid man who smiled a few moments before was motionless, fixed; then, passing through some singular changes, the flesh seemed to fall from him In— Suddenly the play of lights made film disappear from the eyes of the •spectators, and they saw, thanks ti» Tofloetions made by mirrors, only a skeleton. It was the world of specters end the secret of tin* tombs revealed to th«* crowd by a kind of scientific magic lantern. IJernardet did not desire to wait longer to striks his blow -this was the •exact moment to do it, the psycholog ical moment! The eager look of the man in the pombrero revealed a deep trouble. There was In this look something more than the curiosity excited by a novel •pectacle. The muscles of Ills pale face twitched as with physical suffering. In Ills eyes Bern&rdet read an internal agony. "Ah!" thought the police officer. “The living eye is ;i hook which one can read as well as a dead man's eye." ITpon tlie stage the piny of lights was tendering even more sinister the figu rant who was giving to tills morbidly curious crowd the comedy of dentil, ©no would have now thought it was one of those atrocious paintings made In the studios of certain Spanish paint ers in the pntridero of a Valles Leal. The flesh, by a remarkable scientific combination of lights, was made to seem ns if falling off and presented the JiorrlbJe appearance of a corpse In a state of decomposition. The lugubrious vision made a very visible shudder pass *>v r the audience. Then Bernardet, flawing himself up to Ids full height *o as to get a good view of the face of this man so much taller and approach ing ns near to him as possible—in fact, «o that Ills elbow and u’>per arm touched the young man’s—slowly, de liberately dropped one by one these «ni words: "That Is about how M. Kovere ought to bo now.—" And suddenly the young man's face expressed a sensation of fright, as one sues in the face of n pedestrian who # 1 Idenly ilnds that he is about to step I upon a viper. Or how lie will lie soon," added the V le man, with an amiable smile. Ip nardet dissimulated under tills uml 311 1 ty and intense joy. Holding tits vi: :i and elbow in an apparently enre 3<. - manner close to Ills neighbor as he jin 'minced Kovcre’s name, Bernardet ti'-l his neighbor's whole body tremble and give a very perceptible start. Why luul ho been so quickly moved by an fault now ,i name if it had not recalled to ills mind some frightful thought? fTlie man might, of course, know, as the public did, all the details of the crime; jbut. with ills strong, energetic face, ills resolute look, lie did not appear like a jierson who would he troubled by the (recital of a murder, the description of a bloody affray or even by the frightful esieiic which had just passed before his eyes in the hall. "A man of that stamp is not chicken hearted*’’ til night Bernardet. "No, no." Healing those words evoked the Image, of tlie dead man. Kovere. The nun was not able to muster his vioolnt emotion, and he trembled as if under an electrical discharge. The shudder luul been violent, i ■ short duration, however, ns if he had mastered his ♦ emotion by his strong will. In his In voluntary movement lie had displayed « tragic eloquence. Bernardet had seen In thevook, In the gesture, in tlie move ment of tlie man’s head, something of trouble, of doubt, of terror, as in a flush of lightning in tlie darkness of night one Sees the bottom of a pool. Bernardet smilingly said to him: "This sight is not a ray one," ’•No.” the man answered, and he al so attempted to smile. He looked 1 ark t ■ the stage, where the somber play \vi at on. "That poor Koverol" Bernardet said. | The other man now looked at Bernar fiet as if to read his thoughts and to leant what Eignlllentlon the repetition ' of the same »an-.< had. Bernardet sus tained with a naive look this mute in- ! terrogation. He allowed nothing of his thoughts to be seen In the dear, ehild like depths of his eyes. He had the air : of a good man, frightened by a terrible I mur&er, and who spoke ot tin late vic tim as if he feared l'or himself. He] ■waited, hoping that the man would 1 teptuk. In some of Bernardot s readings he ^ lia I come across the magic rule appli- j fable to love. "Never go: wait for tile I other to come." (Nr ire.fai venire)—- i applicable also to hale, to that duel of! magnetism between the hunted man end the police spy. and Uernudi t wait- i «d for tlf other to "come." Brusquely, after a silence, while on ■ the little stage the transformation was] still going Oh, the man asked In a dry tom : "Why d/ you speak to me of M. Ko vt.-re?'' Bernardet affahly replied: IV Be en ise every one talks of it. It is the actuality of the moment. 1 live in that quarter. It was quite near there l l it happened, tile affair—" I know, " interrupted the other. The unknown had not pronounced in w ards in questioning and replying, and vt Bernardet found two clews simply insignificant—terrible in reality. I know," was ihe man's reply. In it short tone, as if he wished to push aside, to thrust away, a troublesome thought. Thf tone, .he sound of the words, had ■track Bernaidet. but one word espe cially- the word "Monsieur" before Ho | Vito's- name. ”M. Rovere? Why did he l speak i<> me of M. Rovere?” Bernadet j thought. It seemed, then, that he knew the ! dead man. { All the people gathered in this little hall. If asked in regard to this murder, would have sahl: “Rovere!” "The Ro vere affair!” "The Rovere murder!" Not one who had not known the victim I would have sa.kl: j “At. Rovere!" The man knew him then. This sim I pie word, in the officer's opinion, meant much. The manager now announced that, having ins ome a skeleton, the dear brother who hud lent himself to this experiment would return to his natural state, "frothier and rosier than before.” He added pleasantly, "A thing which does not generally happen to ordinary skeletons.” Tills vulgar drollery caused a great laugh, which the audience heartily in dulged In. It made an outlet for their pent up feelings, and they all felt as If they hail awakened from n nightmare, i The man in the eotubrero, whose pale face was paler than before, was the only man w ho did not smile. He even frowned llcreoly (noted by Bernardet) when the manager added: “You are not in the habit of seeing a dead man resuscitated the next day. Between us, il would keep the world pretty full.” “Evidently,” thought Bernardet, “my young gentleman Is ill at ease.” Ills only thought was to find out his name, his personality, to establish his Identity and to learn where he had spent his life and especially his last days, lint how? lie did not hesitate long. He left the place, even before the man in the coffin had reappeared, smiling at the audi ence. He glided through the crowd, repeating, "Pardon—I beg pardon!” traversed rapidly the hall where new comers were conversing over their bev erages. and, stepping out into the street, looked up and down. A light fog enveloped everything, and the gaslights and lights In tile shop windows showed ghostly throw it. The possersliy, the cabs, the tramways, bore a spectral look. What Bernardet was searching for was a policeman. He saw two chatting together and walking slowly along un der (he leafless trees. In three steps, at each step turning his head to watch the people coming out of the cabaret, he reached (he men. While speaking to them he dhl not take his eyes from the door of that place where he had left the young man In the gray felt hat. “Dagonin,” ho said, “you must fol low me, if you please, and 'pull me ini’ 1 am going to pick a drunken quarrel with a. particular person. Interfere and arrest us both. Understand?” "Perfectly,” Dagonin replied. lie looked at his comrade, who car ried Ills hand to his shako and saluted Bernardet. i no littlo man, who had given his di rections In a quick tone, was already far away. He stood near tho door of •he cabaret gazing searehlngly at cacti Person who came out. The looks he cast were neither direct, menacing nor even familiar. He had pulled his hat down to ills eyebrows, ami lie east side glances at the crowd pouring from the door of tiie wineshop. He was astonished that the man In tiie sombrero had not yet appeared. Possibly tiie man had stopped, on his way out, in the front hall. Glancing through tiie open door, Bernardet saw that he was right. Tho young man was seated at one of those coffin shaped oaken tables, with a glass of greenish liquid before him. "He needs alcohol to brace him up,” growled the officer. "I can wait till lie lias finished his absinth,” said Bernardet to himself. The door was shut again. He had not long to wait. After a small number of persons had loft the place, tiie door opened and the man iti the gray fdt hat appeared, stopped on tiie threshold and. as Bernardet had •lone, scanned the horizon and the street. Bernardet turned ids back and seemed to he walking away from the wineshop, leaving the man free. With a keen glance or two over his shoulder toward him, Bernardet crossed tho street and hurried along at a rapid pace In order to gain on the young man and by tills maneuver to find himself di rectly in front of the unknown. The man seemed to hesitate, walked quickly down the boulevard a few steps toward tho Place PIgalle, in the direction where Rovere’s apartments were, hut suddenly stopped, turned on his lieel, repassed the Cabaret du Squelette, and went to ward the Moulin Rouge, which at first, Bernardet thought, lie was about to enter. As lie stood there, the vanes of tiie Moulin Rouge, turning about, light ed up tiie windows of the opposite buildings and made them look as if they were on tire. At last, obeying an other impulse, he suddenly crossed the boulevard, jik if to return into Paris, leaving Montmartre, tiie cabarets and Rovere's house behind him. Ho walked briskly along and ran against a man —a little man—whom lie had not no ticed, who seemed suddenly to detach himself from tiie wall and who felt against his breast, hiccoughing and cursing in vicious tones. 1 “Imbecile!" I he young man wished to push away the intoxicated man. who, wttli hat over his eyes, clung to him and kept repeating: "Tlie street—the street—is it not free—the street?" Yes, it was certainly a drunken man - not a man in a smock, hut a little fellow, a bourgeois, with hut askew and a thick voice. "I—I am not slopping you. The street is free, I tell you!" “Well, if it is free I want it!” The voice was vigorous, but showed sudden anger, a strident tone, a slight foreign accent, Spanish perhaps. The drunken man probably thought him Insolent, for, still hiccoughing, he answered: "Oh, you want il. do you? You want It? 1 want it! The king says 'we wish,' don't you know ?” With another movement, he lost Ills 'equilibrium and half fell. Ids head hanging over, and he clutched the man j he held in a sudden embrace. "It is mine also—the street—you l know!" With sudden violence the man dis i embarrrassed himself of this caressing creature, lie thrust aside Ids clinging ■ arms with a movement so quick and strong that the intoxicated man this tlnn- fell. Ids hat rolled into tire gutter and he lay on the sidewalk. Hut Immediately, with a bound, he j was on his feet, and as tlie man went I calmly on his way he followed him, ! seized Ids coat and clutched him so j tightly that he could not proceed. "Pardon." Is said. "You cannot go j away iike that!" Then as the light | from a gas lamp fell on tins little man's , face the young man recognized Ids I neighbor of the cabaret who had said 1 to him: “See! That is how Kovere ! must look'" At this moment Dagonin and ills comrade appeared on the scene and laid vigorous bands on them beth. The young man made a quick, Instinctive movement toward bis right pocket, where, no doubt, he kept a revolver or knife. Bernardet seized Ids wrist. 1I> twisted it and said: ‘Do nothing rash!’’ The young man was very strong, but the huge Dagonin had herculean hi ceps and tho other man did not lack muscles, frigid, moreover, seemed to paralyze this tall, young gallant, who. as he saw that he was being hustled toward a police station, demanded ‘‘Have you arrested me, and why?” "First for having struck rnc,” Ber nardet replied, still bareheaded, and to whom a gamin now handed his soiled hat, saying to him: "is tills yours, M. Bernardet?" liertiardet recognized in his own quarter! That was glory! The man seemed to wish to defend himself and still struggled, but one re mark of Dagonln's seemed to pacify him: "No rebellion! There is nothing se rious about your arrest. Do not make it worse.” The young man really believed that it was only a slight matter and he would be liberated at once. The only thing that disquieted hipi was that tills Intoxicated man, suddenly become so ber, had spoken to him as be did a few moments before in tho cabfiret. The four men walked quickly along in the shadow of tho buildings, through the almost deserted Streets, where tho shopkeepers were putting out their lights and closing up tlveir shops. I Scarcely anyone who met them would ! have realized that three of these men , were taking the fourth to a police sta- j tion. A tricolor flag floated over a door j lighted by a red lantern. The four men ' entered the place and found thctnselves in a narrow, warm ball, where the agents of the police we.ro cither sleep- | ing on benches or reading around tlie j stove by the light of the gas Jets above j their heads. Bernardet, looking dolefully at his broken and soiled hat, begged the young man to glvo ills natne and ad dress to the chief of the post. The j young man then quickly understood that ills questioner of the Cabarot du Bquelette had caught him in a trap. Ho looked at him with an expression of ; violent anger, of concentrated rage. Then he said; ‘‘My name? What do you want of that? I am an honest man. Why did you arrest me? What does it mean?’’ I ' Your name?” repeated Bernardet. The mail hesitated. "(Hi. well, I am called Prades. Does thnt help you any?” The man wrote: “Prades. P-r-a-d-e-s with an accent. Prades. First name?” ; "Charles, if you wish.” ”Oh," said Bernardet, noticing the slight difference in the tone of his an- I swer. “We wish nothing. We wish only the truth.” "I have told it." diaries Prades furnished some fur (her information in regard to himself. He was staying at a hotel in the Bun do Paradis-Poissoniere, a small hotel used by commercial travelers and mer chants of the second class. He had been In Paris only a month. Where was he from? Ho said that ' he came from Sydney, where he was connected with the commercial house, or, rather he had given up the situa tion to come to Paris to seek his for tune. But while speaking of Sydney he had in his rather rambling answers let fall tlie name of Buenos Ayres, and Bernardet remembered that Buenos Ayres was the place where M. Bove.ro had been French consul. The officer paid no attention to this at the time, for what good? Prades' real examina tion would be conducted by M. CHnory. He (Bernardet) was not an examining magistrate. He was the ferret who hunted out criminals. *■ This Prades was stupefied, then fur!- ■ ous, when, the examination over, he learned that he was not to be immedi ately set at liberty. What! An absurd quarrel, a collision without a wound, in a street In Paris was sufficient to hold a man and make him pass tlie night In the station house with all the vagabonds of both sexes collected there. “You may bemoan your fate to your self tomorrow morning," said Bemar det. In the meantime, they searched this man, who, very pale, making visibly powerful efforts to control himself, bit ing Ills lips and his black beard, while they examined his pocket book, while they looked at a Spanish kqife with a short blade whieh he hud (Bernardet had divined it at the time of his arrest) in his right pocket. The pocket book revealed nothing. It contained some receipted weekly bills of the hotel in the B,ue de Paradis, some envelopes without letters, with out stamps and bearing the name “Charles Prades, merchant,” two bank bills of 100 francs and nothing more. Bernardet very simply asked Prados bow it \vas that he had upon his per son addressed letters which he evident ly had not received, as they were net stamped. He replied: "They are not letters. They are ad dresses which I give instead of visiting . cards, as I have not had time to pre cure cards.” “Then the a Idresses are In your writ ing?” (Continued Next Week.) The Immortal. Since my soul and I are friends, 1 go laughing on my road: Whether up or down it wvrrtis. I have never felt my lotji, For tile winds keep tryst with me. And the stars share In my Joy; Meadow, hill or sky or sea, 1 create and destroy. Hope or fear or bliss or w»ie Flits a shadow on the sod; Life and death perpetual How, Underneath them I am God. Smaller Ilian the smallest part, Larger than the moving whole; One hi the divided heart And the Universal soul. Silent, deathless, centered fast, Ancient, uncreated, free, 1 came not to birth at last. Universes are of me. Ellen Glasgow. In Harper's Magazine. A IlHiilJ li. . He—I’m contributing h good deal oi work to the various magazines. I al« ways sign "Anonymous. ' She—Oh. Indeed! Then I’ve read a good deal of vour writing The more naturally a girl's hair curl* the surer she is every other girl's doesn't, » YOU GET THE ADVERTISING, ^ MR. CIGAR STORE MAN 1 r=r.. —-, *Sl<yyy~yyy c5ti <JOHrs'£ CiCajl *5tok. n, t-ta orsoiyAV£H/~zs£j ywz? ^oejdC'1 <5EXiorfl> STELEET. New York, Special: Constantly changing groups of men and women stood about the cigar store of W. W. St. John, at Madison avenue and Forty second street, and smiled as they read the placard. The large plate glass front had been demolished and the placard, in flaring letters, stood In the space de signed for the display of pipes and cigars. Hut there were things other than the placard that attracted attention. Three articles of women’s apparel were dis played there and gave mute testimony of the combat betwi on “Intoxicated ladies," which had resulted in the de molishing of the window. These were a comb, a fragment of the upper por tion of a woman’s waist and a hat trimmed with blue violets and other flowers. These articles were described by the following small placards: "Exhibit A—Comb worn by one of the Indies." "Exhibit B.—Piece of directoire gown." "Exhibit C.—Sky piece worn by one of the ladies." Wherever the word "ladies" appeared it was heavily underscored with red Ink. THE PHILOSOPHIC BRAKEMAN. He Rejoices When the Train Is Late for Purely Personal Reasons. The Flying Bluenose, a train which us ually earns its title as railroad travel goes in tiie quiet Canadian province It trav erses, had been held for an hour or more at a little town until a new locomotive could be procured. The regular locomotive had laid down on the job. It was a case of tired boiler tubes. Passengers were chafing at the delay. There was no reason for impatience, for the next stop was the terminus of the line, and a seaport; those who were going to take the boat knew it would wait for the train; the others had no other object for the day but dinner, and the train w’ould surely arrive before 6. The scheduled time of arrival was 3:30. Nevertheless the passengers were impa- i tient. Most of them were Americans, which explains it. They clustered around the rear platform of the Pullman or made daring excursions into th town, with one ear open for the whistle of the extra lo comotive coming down the line. Members of the train crew took matters calmly and answered all questions, even the inevitable foolish kind with courtesy. The brakeman voiced his sentiments. "This suits me," he said, leaning against the guard rail. "Here we have been get ting In on time or nearly so day after day and there have been two hours before supper with nothing to do. Today we’ll get in about 6, just in time for supper. "I wish we’d get held up every day or the train would be put on a slow schedule. The appearance of being busy suits me much better than actual loafing." He shifted to an easier position and gazed dreamily up the stretch of track. When the relief engine announced its ap proach with a raueaus blast he seemed to resent the intrusion and made liis way back to the switch far too leisurely to please the passengers. V um! From the Houston Post. The maple syrup And the buckwheat cake, The bread like mother Used to make. The chicken like My mother fried. That used to line My small inside; The pumpkin pie, The doughnhts brown. The candy dad Brought out from town, Don't very much Appeal to me. But Buttermilk Of those days! Gee! 1 feel 1 wouldn't Give a durn If 1 could stand Beside the churn And drink again The way I did When 1 was just A little kid. If buttermilk I Intoxicated I'd always be Inebrated. Nevada’s Wild Horses. From the Milwaukee Sentinel. “The ranges set apart by the govern- ; aient in Nevada are overrun by droves of wild horses, which in the agregate are said i to amount to 15,000 at least," said D. C. ' Carson, who has just returned from that state. "At one time there was a law in l Nevada permitting the shooting of these, wild horses in order to get rid of them. Vhe hides were sold and the hunters made * good living out of it. “But, as is usually the case, there were hunters who continually made ‘mistakes’ when out gunning. Many a domestic oorse fell a victim to the hunters’ rifles. I bis finally became so much of a loss to the ranchers and others that the law was repealed. Since that time the droves have rrown and are exceedingly troublesome. The forestry men are ordered to shoot •,!u-se horses when ever they come on hi m, hut they are so busy with other ind more necessary work that little Im pression is made on the droves by that iieans. Meanwhile, the horses are in creasing and the question of how to wipe •.hem out is becoming a serious one for all concerned." Explained. Grace—Miss Waspie says she won lers why she has to meet so many iisugrt table people. Helen—That’s easily explained. It's !?ard for anybody not to be disagree ible in Miss Waspie’s company. Cement Is used for roofing in francc, especially near Lyons. OUR NERVES. They May Be Calmed by Silence, Soli tude and Sleep, Says One Writer. In an article on ‘‘Nerves’’ published lri the current Harper’s Bazar the story !••( told of one of our noted scientists whtl went to Dresden to consult the fa merit?' specialist for broken down nerves. On hearing his symptoms the great physician said Indifferently: "Aeh so? It Is probable that yeu have—1 yes. all the gelehrten (learned; have! neurasthenia naturally.” The remedy sag-! gested was “Play golf and go to ISgypt :| You can get Munich beer in Cairo, thoughj it is disgustingly' expensive there.” | Silence, solitude and sleep are the scv-1 ereign remedies suggested for Jaggedl nerves. Slight daily doses of the three! “Ss.” it is claimed, will prevent a nervous? breakdown and may be obtained by even the most busy people. But “All the learned have neurasthenia" is at once a warning and a consolation to the brain worker. To "drive the machine” with skill and care is the problem of the suc cessful American. The writer of this article urges that we. ought to thank Gcd that we belong to the most nervous, restless, all pervading race the world has seen since the days of Julius Caesar. It is our "nerves" that make us what we are. What Made It Wild. I’rom the New York Herald. All the customers of Charles Kaegebehn who keeps a saloon at No. 802 Washington street, Hoboken, dropped In yesterday to see the wild cat which Charley’s brether, Ferdinand, had just brought from tho United States of Columbia for the New York Zoological society of which he Is acting assistant curator general. The cat, which is zoologically known as an ocelet, was in a little wooden crate with thin slats for bars, and it was the wildest look ing wild beast that any of the thirsty ones had ever seen. "That ain't no wild cat," said Gus Hogebohm, as he blew the froth from a foaming beaker, "Why that thing would jump through this and out of your hand." "Sure he's a wild cat," said Charley. "My brother said so, and he ought to know.” "Shush,” remarked Meyer Goldberg, with scorn. ‘"‘I got a black and tan com mon mut of a cat at home that would eat him alive.” "He’s a sure enough wild cat just the same," insisted Charley. "Well what makes him wild?” inquired Gus Hogebohm, as he shifted his feet on the brass rail. "Well, I dunno,” said Charley, "what makes him wild, John?” and he appealed to his bartender. "Search me,” said John, "hut it’s time to feed him," and producing from behind the bar a luscious and far reaching cake of 1 ini burger cheese, he approached the oce lot’s crate and inserted the toothsome delicacy between tho bars. Half a minute later Gus and Meyer and all the rest were agreed that it was the wildest wildcat they ever had met. The flimsy crate went to pieces with a couple of heaves aiul the cat took charge of the bar. He wrecked whole communities of bottles, spilled unfinished schooners, dew* about the room like an insane cyclone and made the place look like the morning after something terrible. It wras not until after Ferdinand arrived with a keeper from the lironx that, by the aid of sharp prodded poles and nets, the ocelot wras subdued and returned to captivity. About that time Gus and the others were pulling themselves together out of tiie adjacent neighborhood. "Sure,” said Gus wisely, as he rubbed himself with a pained expression, "I got the answer. That’s what makes him wild.” Require Diploma for After-Dinner Orator. From the Chicago Record-Herald.* It might help greatly if our after dinner speakers, making exceptions for the distinguished guest who is the lion of every occasion were obliged to have a diploma, the same as a doctor or lawyer, or to take out a license like a plumber. And the advantage.! of spe cial training must appeal to every am bitious young man. Sooner or later ho receives that "unexpected call” he has been waiting for, and the habit is upon him. He may realize suddenly what u boon there is in a sympathetic course in the art at college. So may the other | diners. j Cuba’s output of molasses this year wtU | not fall short of 40,0014000 gallons. Taking Periodicals. ^ Jack London, the writer, was talking In San Francisco about the desertion of his crew. Mr. London, ns well nn_, I the world knows, is circling the world | n a small boat, and his crew deserted it Honolulu on account of the dullness I of the life. ! "They are greatly bored." said Mr. I London. "They had a look of ennui all the time What did they expect? They acted’as If they expected a periodical shipwreck, a p> riodical ons’aught of cannibals, a periodical rescue of some fair girl from pirates. They wero rather like a man named Samson whom I once knew. "A book agent called on Samson a wife. “Do you take any periodicals?’ he ; inquired. " ‘Oh, no,’ she replied. 'I never take ! any. But my husband, I'm sorry to say. ! takes a periodical about once every 1® lays. Are you a temperance worker, j sir'.”’’ I Song. When that I loved a maiden My heaven was In her eyes. And when they bent above me I know no deeper skies; Uirt when her heart forsook me. My spirit broke its bars • For grief beyond the sunset And love beytmd the stars. When that I loved a maiden She seemed the world to me; Now Is my soul the universe. My dreams—the sky and sea! There Is no heaven above me. No glory binds or bars My grief beyond the sunset My love beyond the btars. When that I loved a maiden I worshiped where she trod; But when she clovo my heart, the cleft Set free the imprisoned god; Then was I king of all the world My soul had burst Its bars For grip" beyond the sunset And love beyond the stays. —Alfred Noyes In Everybody’s. How’s This? W# offer One Hundred Dollars Reward fo* ary case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. K. J. CHENEY & CO.. Toledo, O. We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, and belles* him perfectly honorable In all business trans actions and financially able to carry out any obligations made by his firm. Wai.di.vg, Ki.v.van & Marvin, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O. Flail's Catarrh Cure Is taken Internally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system. Testimonials sent free. Price 75 cents per bottle. Sold by ail Druggists. Take Hall's Family Pills for constipation. i Orchestral Oversight. I The snare drummer happened tt» hatch a selection that called for th* lose of half a dozen or more instru ments. To make the shift from one l o another he had to hustle In a fash L on that nightly impressed persons slt ▼ tug near. When lie had finished the .tvely operation he was puffing and biswing and the perspiration was com ing out in streams. A man just outside the orchestra rail leaned forward, and pointing to th* i score, remarked: “That was good work, old man, but | you missed one place.” i "I did?” responded the drummer In surprise. “Why. I thought I played ev erything that came my way." "No,” the other resumed, “you didn’t d> everything, and I saw the leader glance at you. Right there, in the mid dle of that measure, is a place Where ^ it says you should have gone down ■ t llar and shaken the furnace, and your V didn’t pay any attention to It.” i Interesting Railway Facts. H From the Railroad Age-Gazette. V In one year, 1907, one man, with the aid ^ of modern railroad appliances, was abl* I to move one ton of freight 139,960 miles, I an l one passenger 16,397 miles. A man I with a good team of horses anil a wagon on roads better than the average Ameri can road would be doing well to haul on* and a hair tons 30 miles, six dnys in th* week, or 13,500 ton miles per year, leaving no time for passenger transportation. At this rate it would require mere than lOc men and 20 horses to do the freight trans portation which one man does with a rail road and without any horses; and to carry the freight traffic which the railroads of this country carried last year, 17,500,000 men and 35,000,000 tiorses would be re-, quired, instead of the 1.672.000 inen who actually not only effected the transporta tion of ail this freight, but of all tjie pas senger traffic also. The improvements since 1889 alone have enabled 1,672,000 men to d» what in 1889 would have required! 700.000 more. New Ideas for Play. Manager—I've got a new Idea for i melodrama that ought to make a hit. Playwright—What is it? Manager—The idea is to introduce s cyclone in the first act that will kill \ :i!i the actors. THEN AND NOW. Complete Recovery from Coffee 111a. “About nine years ago my daughter, from coffee drinking, was on the verge o' nervous prostration,” writes a Louis ville lady. “She was confined for the most part to her home. “When she attempted a trip down town she was often brought home in a cab and would be prostrated for day* afterwards. “On the advice of her physician she gave up coffee and tea. drank Postuna, and ate Grape-Nuts for breakfast. “She liked Posturn from the very be ginning and we soon saw improvement To-day she is in perfect health, the mother >f five children, all of whom ur* foml of Postuin. “She has recovered, Is n member of three efc arity organizations and a club, holding an office in each. We give Postuin and Grape-Nuts the credit for her reco very." “Then Vs a Reason.” Name (given by Postum Co.. Battle Creek. Xfljch. Read “The Road to Well ville,” in pkgs. Ever read the above Setter? A new one appear* from time to time. 1 hey are genuine, true, end full of liuman intereit. d * I