r A Spirit.
♦Mine arc the buds of hope
Upon the vine;
Mine is the morning's cope
Of sapphire stain;
>M!ne is yon grassy slope
That’s borryllne;
Arid mine the warm white rain,
j The rainbow skein!
I am the throb that stirs
The daffodil;
Tin' sap within the firs—
l A living core;
I Take heed, my worshipers
1 am the thrill
Of song that runs before
By crest and shore!
In every vein of earth
1 I pulse, I leap;
' X cause all beauty’s birth—
The Joy thereof;
' "Where once were death and dearth
(The long white sleep)
Through me, beneath, above,
Are life and love! ,
—Clinton Bcollard in January Alnslee s.
1 In the course of Its long history Eng- i
land has known a few serious earth- j
Eiuake shocks, says the London Chront- i
cle. In the days of William Rufus one .
ra* felt throughout the country, and In
j£74 an English earthquake destroyed
Qlnstonbury among Its other damage,
iehllo part of St. Paul’s cathedral fell
n as the result of an earthquake In the
lxteenth century. Perhaps the most
recent serious shock was that which j
Inflicted much damage In the eastern
bounties In 1884; a Mansion house fund |
was opened for the sufferers.
Wblikcr for Colds.
To one-half pint good whiskey, add
•®ne ounce syrup sarsaparilla and one
ounce Torls compound, which can be
Socured of any druggist Take In tea
oonful doses before each meal and
before retiring. Immediate result* al
ways follow this treatment.
Richardson, the painter, used to
fcpeak of an honest, open, country
gentleman who ono day asked hint
to Como to his house, adding: "I wish
Very much to see you, for I have Just
purchased a picture by Rubens. It Is
lit rare good one. Brown saw It and
'Bays It Is a copy. Copy! If any man
lllvlng dares to say It Is a copy, I
Will break every bono In his skin!
aPray. call on mo and give me your
'opinion.”
According to a contemporary, Signor
Marconi Is said to have stated that a
Wireless telegraphic service at 2 cents
?, word will shortly be In operation be- |
ween England and Italy. France, It
Is said, objected to the scheme ortgln
flly, as telegrams between England and
taly pass over her lines at present, but
has since withdrawn her opposition.
2t is stated that the servlco will be ;
commenced ns soon ns the wireless j •
Station at Coltano Is completed.
Pneumonia and Consumption are al- |
ways preceded by an ordinary cold. Hast'
tins Wizard Oil rubbed into the chest
draws out the inflammation, breaks op
(the cold and prevents al! serious trouble.
i Dr. Marshall I. Price, secretary of |
(the Maryland state board of health, '
snakes an appeal to the citizens of that j
ktatc to kill rats and ground squirrels !
pyhem ver possible to prevent the do
fvelopment of the bubonic plague, which
Weverul expert physicians say may at
(any time visit the eastern section of
Ihe country, especially among the At
lantic coast. Bubonic plague Is largely
spread by the bites of (teas which are
(found on rats and ground squirrels.
-- ♦ --
, There are several silver Ingots In the
(bank of England which have lain there
Ifor 200 years.
! Sixty per cent of tho 12,600 tons of silk
jproduced In China and Japan each year Is
Retained for home use.
HER
PHYSICIAN
ADVISED
Taking Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound
Columbus, Ohio.— “I have taken
Lvdia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
■■ ... in...n ■ 1 J . _ _ i
U11U U A 1
change of life. My
doctor told me It
was good, and since
taking it I feel 90
much better that I
can do all my work
again. I think
Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Com
pound a line remedy
for all woman’s
troubles, and I
_— x* . —._x x .. a. . 11
IPPHHHHHiiwaBMUMBuv 1 Vi xuigv. v VV iv u
my friends what it lias dono for me.”
|—Mrs. E. Hanson, 304 East Long St.,
;Columbus, Ohio.
Another Woman Helped.
Graniteville, Vt. — “I was passing
througbrthe Changeof Life and suffered
jfrom nervousness and other annoying
(symptoms. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound restored myhealtliaud
strength, and proved worth mountains
of gold to me. For the sake of other
suffering women I am willing you
should publish my letter.” — Mrs.
. Charles Barclay, R.F.D., Granite
ville, Vt.
Women who aro passing through this
critical period or who aro suffering
from any of those distressing ills pe
culiar to their sex should not lose sight
of the fact that for thirty years Lydia
E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound,
which is made from roots and herbs,
has been the standard remedy for
female ills. In almost every commu
nity you will find women who have
been restored to health by Lydia E.
piakhaiu’a Vegetable Compound.
The House of the Black
By F. L. Pattee Ring Copyright, 1905 j |
CHAPTER II—Continued.
"I tell you Al's kindness ain't put
on," maintained Dan doggedly, nettled
at the squire's insinuations. "If I ain’t
a nlxy clean through and through, then
I never seen a kinder-hearted man In
my life. Nosuh. He JeHt seen his
Jewty, and he done It, nnd I ain't the
only one nuther. He don't go cacklin'
all over town every lime his old Huff
Cochin lays an alg."
"Say, boys, ever think of one thing?"
continued the squire placidly. "You've
been seein’ some strange sights up to i
the old cabin lately, lialn’t yeh? There’s
always been queer stories about that ;
place, but you didn’t hear of much go- j
ing on there till Farthing moved onto
that farm, did yeh? Now stop to think
of tills latest outtln’ up; haln’t every
bit of It been since he moved into
town?”
“Wal, you can’t lay that onto Al.”
Dan squared about argumentatively.
"There haln’t been no track Into that
cabin all this winter yetst, and you-all
knows It still.” He addressed his argu
ments to tho crowd, as If It were they
who were combating him. “He told
mo himself when I asked him that he
had other business nights than laying
awake watehln' for ghosts still, and
that he hadn't saw a thing in the old
cabin a'ready. He said ho slept nights
and went at Ills sleepln’ early.”
"Wal—now—I—don’t—know.” The
squire again winked knowingly. "Ever
notice what a sharp little black eye
he's got and how It looks right through
yeh? You don’t see eyes as sharp us
that very often." The old man under
stood perfectly those to whom he was
talk Ing.
“Yar! Now you're gettin’ at It,”
burst In Lem Fisher. 'It’s an eye that
can weave a branch 'round yeh. First
thing some of you-uns 'll know you'll
be gettln’ hnexed; your kids'll be llver
growed, and have the run-down
nnd oppnehmer. You he care
ful, you-uns; that's my word to
you a’ready. He had lowered
his voice almost to a whisper. Ulle
took up the theme instantly.
“That's Jest what I've been a-tellin’
of yeh. The devil knows what's what.
There's a reason for the doin’s up in
that old shanty, don't you forget that.
Tho devil don’t have to walk when he
wants to get over snow nnd"—lower
ing ids voice mysteriously and half
closing one eye "a haexer and a pow
wower don’t nuther. You-all think of
that wunst.”
“Recollect how strange old Poppy
Miller acted down to Dan's butcherin'?
Heigh?”
"How'd you dast to stan' ag’ln him
so. squire, and say what you did right
In front of him? Won't he haex yeh?
Won’t he send Rose into the eppneh
mer? Ain’t yeh 'frald something '11
happen to her?"
"Now! Not a bit. I carry words
Rg’ln him. IIo can’t touch me or mine
I'vo saw to that.”
"But he's a deep one.” Lem Fish
er was on Ids own ground now. "He's
Jest tho worst one we-uns ever know'd
here.”
"I don't believe It!" exploded Dan.
“Al ain't no more of a haexer than
you he, hem; not one bit. And I don’t
believe that none of you have really
ever saw anything up to that cabin
wunst. Nosuh. You’re Jest like my
Did mare when she goes acrest the rail
road track. You’re so blamed scalrt
and you expect to see such an awful
thing that you don't knew what you
flo see, and you shy and kick and snort
for all tho world as if there was some
thing there.”
"Humph!” retorted Ulio scornfully.
” 'Spose I don't know still what 1 see
with my own eyes? Humph!”
"Oh, I ain't questioning but what you
think you see it. My boy come In one
day and sayed that lie seen a snake as
long as tho hay ladder still, and I
haln’t the slightest doubt but what he
thought It really was. Where's Amos?
He’d knock the whole thing higher
'n a kite.”
“Look here, Dan,” the Squire spoke
up sudden and sharp, "I'll give you ten
dollars and pay it in money it you'll
go up to that cabin right off now and
touch it with your hand. Now, that's
business.’’ The Squire knew his man.
"Yessuh; now, that's business, and
I’ll dare yeh to do it,” added Ulle im
portantly. "You talk big still, but you
don’t dast to do it. JNosuh. We’ve got
you now, Dan. It's go up or sliet up."
"Where's Amos? I'll go if he'll go
with me wunst.” The man was clearly
in distress. He had half arisen, and
was wavering perceptibly.
"Amos don't count in this bargain.
Amos ain’t here. Now you go up there
or you quit your everlasting yammer
ing about this here Farthing. I'm sick
of it.”
“All right, sub." He spoko with n
quiver of excitement In his voice. “I’ll
go." Ijoyalty to Ills friend was strag
gling with Innate superstition, and loy
nlty was for the moment the stronger.
He arose llko the leader of a forlorn
hope and took a tottering step.
"Now,” snld the Squire, briskly, “I
want Ulle and Lem to follow behind
and see that he does It.” The crafty
old man knew with whom he wits defil
ing. Fear Is as contagious ns disease.
The two men hesitated a moment, then
arose doggedly and buttoned up their
coats. It was always best to obey tho
Squire even when lie asked hard things.
"Come hack and tell us how you
make out," shouted the old man as they
were plunging out Into the night.
"All right. We won't be gone long.
I'll tell you that," called back Ulle, and
then they were lost In tho darkness.
There was a swirl of rattling snow In
the air. The wind came in puffs and
eddies, whirling tho sharp grist into
the faces of the men. A dismal roar,
sullen and steady, rolled from the dis
tant ridges, and from the near gaps
came a succession of snarls and
shrieks. The snow modified the dark
ness Into a ghostly light in which noth
ing was distinct.
The three men struggled on In silence.
At length they reached the place where
the road turned off toward Heller's
S Gap, and they struck Into it without a
word. The buildings of Allen Farthing
were in complete darkness; the family
had gone to bed. Then they turned Into
the little lane that once had been
the main road to the Heller cabin. By
day a clear view of the hut could be
had from this point, but the ghostly
light revealed nothing as they peered
through tho bushes.
Suddenly a thin, wavering shriek
rang through the air, far off like the
cry of the Banshee. It stopped the
three dead in their tracks. Lem Fish
er turned and took several hasty steps.
“Oh, come on, boys," spoke up Dan
stoutly, "It's only the wind in the gap.
I’ve heard it blow that way before.
Come on." They paused a fearful mo
ment, then crept trembling after him.
The outlines of the cabin were now
dim ahead, and a few steps further left
It clearly deflned. At the sight of it
Lem and Ulle stopped as If urrested by
an invisible hand.
“Now go ahead, Dan, If you're goln',
but I adwlse you not to. I wouldn't go
another step for all the money the
Squire’s got. This is all the farther
were goin’, I'll tell yell that.'' The
three huddled together like chil
dren at night after a ghost story.
Then Dan gripped IiIh fists hard
and crep ahead as If stalking some
fearful wild beast. Ten steps and ho
stopped short with a sudden drawing in
of the breath.
"Ah!" Before him stood the cabin
with a black ring around it like the
rope-inark about the neck of a hanged
man. His knees smote together, but he
started on. Again he stopped in utter
terror. Was that a spark that had
floated up from the old roof? And. oh,
horror! The windows seemed to have
a light In them—a ghastly red that
seemed to him to flicker balefully like
phosphorus marks on a wall.
Pshaw! It was his Imagination. He
forced himself to take another step for
ward. Ho would make a run for it and
have it done with. But his heart gave
a mighty leap into his throat and stuck
there, beating furiously until he could
scarcely breathe. The light flickered
suddenly brighter, a dark shadow
seemed to glide before the window,
there was something black and sinewy
writhing at the corner of the cabin as
if for a spring. Then suddenly there
rang out a gibbering laugh the like of
which he had never even dreamed of,
then a string of curses that bubbled
and cracked like boiling brimstone.
Tho man was no longer free to act.
His brain no longer guided him. When
next he could think Ills legs were flying
beneath him as never before In his life,
and he was hurtling down the valley
faster than the winds, which, shrieking
In fiendish glee, were chasing him from
the Gap. But fast as he ran he was
far in the rear of two other figures
which never once stopped until they
arrived, breathless and spent, before
Squire Hartswick’s store.
uri-ai'j. nut in.
ROSE HARTSWICK.
Since Rose Hartswick had come back
from her three years at the seminary,
the life of the whole valley somehow
had been changed. In the old days she
had been simply one of the valley girls,
a freckled, sunny-faced tomboy, the
leader In every prank and frolic, but
sho had returned a full-blown woman,
so changed that her neighbors hardly
dared to speal; to her. The little brown
chrysalis had turned suddenly into a
magnificent butterfly.
Then all In a moment their surprise
and apprehension vanished, and they
awoke to a new delight. The change
was all in the outward. The squire’s
daughter was still one of them; she
was tho same Joyous, unspoiled coun
try girl as when she had gonje away,
and she was glad to get back, glad all
through and through; for the hills were
home, and she had been homesick, she
averred, every moment of her stay. Her
Joyousness had overflowed until the
whole valley had shared it, and the
young fellows had lost their heads like
dandelions on a lawn.
But Rose was not a girl for lovers.
There was about her no slightest trace
of sentimentality. She had been for
tunate in inheriting the best traits of
both her father and her mother. From
the old Squire had come her active,
practical bent, her self-reliance, and
her instant readiness of resource, a"nd
from her mother, her tender heart and
her sunny, laughing soul. She was a
girl with enthusiasms, spontaneous and
magnetic; a girl who helped her moth
er because she liked to do It; a girl
who was busy all day and who had no
time for lovers. The anxious swains
who sighed and stammered filled her
with glee. They seemed to her inex
pressibly funny, and they aroused in
her instantly a desire to make them
sweat, to torment and startle and em
barrass them until they were at their
wits’ end. They were ludicrously in
awe of her: never for a moment were
they sure of her next move. When
they began to grow serious she would
laugh until they would blush like girls
and grow contused and even angry.
Then, before they could collect them
selves or expostulate, she would be off
on another tack, and they could only
wonder if all girls were like that.
One saw her oftenest In the after
noon, rattling helter-skelter by on a
long-geared mustang which had been
her chief crony since sho was a girl of
12. She was no timid rider. It was a
sight to thrill one to see her plunge
down a mountain road, or to have her
sweep in mad career full upon one
around a sudden bend. A cheery hail,
a sunny ripple of laughter that made
one feel for an hour afterwards that
the world wras good, a clatter of hoofs,
and she was gone. Few there were,
young or old, who would not turn at
the sight, and follow the trim figure,
rising and falling in perfect harmony
with her mount, until it faded in the
distance.
"Mercy on us!” they would chuckle,
"that girl will break her neck gallop
ing in that crazy way.” But they
would smile softly, and the day some
how would seem brighter. It became
a saying in the valley that if one
wished to see Rose, the surest way was
to sit beside the road for a few days
anywhere within 20 miles of Hartswick
Hall.
This love of horses and of the out
of-doors had come clearly from her
father, and he delighted in It. There
was not one of nil his trotters, not even
the vicious bay stallion, but what he
allowed her to drive alone whenever
she wished. Though she had never
driven in a public race, it was the old
man's boast that there was no jockey
in the region that he would sooner
trust in a critical moment. She knew
horses almost by Instinct. She loved to
break wild colts and vicious bulkers
and halter-pullers. It was a joy to see
her In battle with a stubborn beast.
One who knows only the type of female
who drops the reins and screams when
the horse begins to back, knows little
of what is possible. She was slight of
figure, but she was marvelously strong
in her shoulders and arms. And be
sides this she feared nothing in the
shape of a horse. Never once In her
life had she failed of her purpose, or
met with an accident or a set-back.
It was about this time that young
■Tim Farthing began to take a new in
! terest in horses. Five years before,
1 his father had given him a colt, a won
, dcrfully dainty little creature that ho
! had bid off at a bankrupt sale,
j There was good blood in the
I colt, so the owner said. The
I mother had been good for 2:18, and
the sire even better. With proper
i handling she ought to develop into a
wonder, and Jim had tried hard to give
1 the proper handling. She had from the
first been the passion of the young
fellow's life. He had trained her early
in the sulky, and when she was three
lie had won in handsome style a 2:25
heat. Then had come the removal to
the mountains and small chance for
| training trotters. There was a world ol
| work to do; for the old farm was a
! chaos; tho little mare had had to find
| tier exercise on the cultivator and the
i horse rake, with occasional trips to
Spruce Creek, the nearest railroad sta
tion. Thus It happened that during the
year not one in the valley, not even
Squire Hartswick, who boasted that
he could size up anjr horse at a glance,
had seemed to see her.
Suddenly, late In January, after he
had seen Rose In full gallop one after
noon on the Clum Ki n road, young Jim
made the discovery that his mare had
possibilities as a saddle horse. She
needed exercise, and It would be easier
in the mud that lay fetlock deep on all
i the mountain roads, to give It without
the buggy. There was the mall to get.
| and there were errands to do all up and
i down the valley.
It was some time before he ran
across Rose again. It was on a Mon
day afternoon. He had gone to Spruce
Greek to Inquire for his father’s freight,
and as he had cantered up to the sta
tion his heart had Jumped into his
mouth. There was no mistaking tho
supple figure on the platform with the
agent. She was holding her crop Jaun
tily before her, a hand on either end.
Every detail of dress and posture and
expression burned into his brain liko
a flash light snap—the glorious wealth
of her hair under the riding cap,
the square set of her shoulders, the
dainty grace of her coat, and even the
expression of her eyes as she looked
up at his approach. He tipped his cap
automatically, and sprang from the
saddle even before the horse had come
to a full stop.
“Hello! Glad to see you,” ho called,
with hearty ring. "How’s this for
mud?” He looked ruefully down over
his spattered clothes.
"That's nothing. You ought to ride
the Sugar Valley road.”
“Muddy down there. Is It?”
"Muddy! Why, all I could see of
Romp one time was Just his ears.” Her
spontaneous laugh thrilled young Jim.
Before he could answer, she had turned
with sudden change of tone to the
agent.
Well have the teams down here by
9. That car’ll have to be moved 20
feet—all of It. There’s no chance to
swing In, don't you see? You’ll be sure
to have it done?”
"Sure. Anything you say. Glad to
do It.” There was sultry good nature
In tlio agent’s face and tone. He fol
lowed her even to the edge of the plat
form, suave and gushing.
"All right, then”—with business snap
—“at 9 sharp it is.” She turned quick
ly to her horse, which was standing
unhitched a few steps away.
"Come, Pomp,” she called.
"Here, Miss Hartswick, let me help
you." Jim sprang forward eagerlly.
She turned for an instant as if to
answer him, then vaulted seemingly
without effort into the saddle. “Oh,
pardon me." she said quickly, "I mount
ed before I thought." A roar of laugh
ter polled out from the platform.
"Too slow! Have to wake up, young
feller, if you’re goin’ to do business
round here.”
“Has our freight come?" He wheeled
square about and changed the subject
with a snap.
"We’ll get it tomorrow.” He was on
his horse and cantering after Rose. In
a moment he was swinging along be
side her.
“Say, you've got a nice pony there,
haven’t you?" She turned in her sad
dle to examine the horse. "Can he go?”
“Well, I guess."
"All right—good bye.”
On the Instant the mustang shot
ahead like a polo pony. They were
fairly out of sight behind a bend be
fore Jim awoke to what had happened.
Then he. too, was off on the jump.
How gloriously the girl rode! The
great mustang Was at full stretch,
smashing through mud and waterhole,
and throwing a deluge of soft mush
three rods In every direction. She was
leaning far forward, almost to the
horse’s neck, to break the force of the
wind. The rider behind her never once
took his eyes from her. The soft brown
of her hair, an Intense fleck against the
winter white, was like the focal center
of all things. He urged the little mare
to her utmost, and In two minutes he
was right at the mustang's heels.
Then as suddenly ns she had started,
the girl dropped again into a canter.
"My, but he’s a goer!" she burst out
enthusiastically. “Say, I want to ride
him. May I?”
“Why—yes-’’
“All right. Whoa, Pomp!” The
horse stopped instantly, and she sprang
te the ground. Jim also alighted.
“Now, you hold both of ’em by the
reins,” he said with business decision,
"and I’ll change the saddles. I’m afraid
yours won't tit very well, though.”
“Oh, no. I can ride a man's saddle
just as well as I can my own.”
"Shall I help you mount?” He came
very near her, so near, indeed, that It
awed him a little. He had never been
so near her before.
“Can’t you get me a block or a stone
or something for mo to clamber up
on?" She looked about her as If In
distress, and Involuntarily his eyes fol
lowed hers, seeking for a block. He
turned to find her in the saddle. It
seemed like magic. But her merriment
was bitten short off. The gingery lit
tle mare knew nothing of women, and
she started Instantly on a mad, kick
ing, slewing, bucking, breackneck rush
down the road. Jim’s heart went into
his mouth. No girl In a flurry like that
could stay In that man's saddle without
stirrups.
(Continued Next Week.)
True Money Panic.
Reporter—Now, what was the worst
money panic you ever saw?
Great Financier—Last week, when a
10-eent piece rolled to the floor of a
street car and five women claimed itl
Riddle and Answer.
I dally breathe, say what you will.
And yet I have no life:
I klpdle feuds, but never kill,
Nor cause the smallest strife.
(A Bellows.)
Professor Perctval Lowell announces
that spectroscopic proof has been ob
tained of the presence of water on
Mars. This would seem, according to
the Scientific American, to settle once
and for all a moot Martian question In
Lowell’s favor.
IN AN APARTMENT.
New Tenant—Can you tell me to whom
to apply for more heat? Our rooms are
very cold.
Imposing Personage—X have Idea,
I'm the janitor.
GREAT love story
HISTORICAL HOAX
—
Ferrero Shatters the Beautiful
Romance of Antony and
Cleopatra.
! New York, Special: Gugllelmo Fer
! rero, the Italian historian, in a lecture
at Columbia university on "Antony and
! Cleopatra” not only shattered one of
the greatest iove stories of the ages,
) but he did it with an uptodate ham
1 mer fashioned to the present crisis. He
pronounced this tale of a strong man’s
weakness under the enchantment of a
woman’s smile “an anti-feminist legend
illustrative of how dangerous it is to
leave to women the government of
public affairs."
"The figures of women.” said Mr.
Ferrero, 'are rare in Roman history.
In this world of men a woman suddenly
i eppears—a woman strange and w»n
i derfui. She is sailing tranquilly along
I the Cydnus on her way to Tarsus,
j where her first meeting with Antony
occurred. Posterity is yet dazzled by
j this ship, effulgent with purple and
gold. We are spellbound. Small won
wer that Antony should he so. The ro
mance pleases, hut does not keep off
the brutal hands of criticism."
A New Cleopatra.
The lecturer then proceeded to draw
! the "real” picture of the heroine, cru
elly divesting her of charms at every
j step. He spoke of the portraits of the
! siren found by archeologists. "Com
! paring them with the poetic descrip
I tions of her due to poetic fancy,” he
I went on, “we do not see the counte
I nance of a venus, delicate, gracious,
smiling. Her face is fleshy—bouffie,
as the French would pay, with a pow
erful aequiline nose.
“It is the face of a woman on in
| years. ambitious, imperious. But
; beautiful or ugly is of little concern
when one studies her relations with
Antony, In the spirit of criticism, and
i finds that the passion of love had smaX
place therein."
| Mr. Ferrero touched upon the meet
ing of the pair in Tarsus, of Antony's
, tarrying with the queen throughout the
winter, leaving in the spring. “He
stayed away three years, during which
j there is no proof that he was sighing
for her. He was preparing for the Per
! sian campaign. The idea was con
{ ceived by Caesar, for only great suc
cess could give him and his party au
j thority.”
Why He Married Her.
The speaker went hack to the dis
■ ecvery by the Frenchman, Latronne,
1 about a century ago, through a com
parison of ancient coins, that Antony
had married Cleopatra, for the basis of
I his deductions. “This marriage,” ho
said, “took place at Antioch with all
the dynastic ceremonies of Egypt in 36
i B. C., and thereupon Antony became
i king of Egypt, though he never dared
I assume the title.
“This was brought about, not by
love, but politics—a scheme which
j Caesar understood perfectly. After the
i plunder of other regions the only state
left that was rich In precious mater
t lals was Egypt, and these were
wanted to use in the campaign »f
Persia.
“Why did Antony marry Cleopatra
instead of conquering Egypt? Because
there was an old standing tradition in
Rome that Egypt should be exploited,
but respect shown her independence."
| It is, therefore, to Egypt as much as
to Cleopatra, to whom he grants fas
cination and what passed fer culture
in those days that Mr. Ferrero attri
buted the change In Antony’s charac
ter. The magnificence of his surround
ings, who had himself sprung from
a noble but impoverished family, his
sway as king with unnumbered men
| lals to gratify his every whim, the
j subtle Influence of the most highly de
1 veloped civilization in the world, all
seized upon his mind.
Antony's Undoing.
Cleopatra urged him to give up the
I conquest of Persia and to found with
her and their children a new dynasty
that should be the controlling power
of Orient and Occident. While his
thoughts returned to his country, to
1 oppose Cleopatra and relinquish a
kingdom were beyond him. And from
this point Mr. Ferrero traced the end
less tangle of crooked policies which
in the end wrought Antony’s undo
ing.
Antony succumbed In the famous
war, not because he was mad with
love, but because he was abandoned
by his soldiery when they understood
his contemplated treachery, and, ac
cording to the lecturer, it was this
sentiment wfhich made Augustus at
Actium an easy conqueror.
! The present story that has so en
1 tertained posterity, he said, was in
vented by the vicious party of Augus
tus and accepted as the popular ex
■ planation of the eastern peril. “I de
not believe,” Mr. Ferrero said, in con
clusion, “that it Is the office of history
to give men who have guided human
j events a posthumous justice.”
Sicily’s Wheat and Fruits.
From the New York Press.
Sicily was the “granary of Rome" In
former days. Wheat grows to an enor
mous height, and the ears seldom contain
less than 60 grains. The rice is the finest
I on earth. I buy it at 10 cents a peund to
I make that famous dish—“riso el butter®
i e furmagio." No other rise answers the
purpose. The most bountiful crops of
! Germany and Franco, of England and
' Austria-Hungary, present to the Sicilian
the image of sterility. A Sicilian water
i melon Is a dream It was the original
1 nectar of the godu. No Georgia rattle
snake variety is in its class. Indian tigs
and aloes are wonderful, the former serv
ing as food for the poor. The pomegran
ate reaches its highest perfection along
the southern coast, and is shipped to all
: parts of the world under the name ®f
i “punlca," in honor of the Punic war; it
was brought from Cartilage into Italy by
the Romans.
be»--«
ON THE JUMP.
Horan—Hello, Doran. An' how's thlng9
wtd you?
Doran—Busy; very busy. Indade.
Horan—Is It so?
Doran—Aye, shure; Iv'ry time I'm at
U.y*hure 1 have somethin' to do.
'■bBb . . 'm*r \ \
I want every chronic rheumatic to throw
away all medicines, all liniments, all
plasters, and give MUNYON’S RHEUMA
TISM REMEDY a trial. No matter what
I your doctor may say, no matter what
yeur friends may soy, no matter how
I prejudiced yon may be against all adver
j Used remedies, go at once to yonr drug
gist, and get a bottle of the RHEUMA
TISM REMEDY. If it falls to give satis
faction,! will refund yonr money.—Mnnyon
Remember this remedy contains no sal
icylic acid, no opium cocaine, morphine or
oth er harmful drugs. It Is put up under
i the guarantee of the Pure Food and Drag
Act.
For sale by all druggists. Price. 25c.
It was a merry group of officers that
gathered on the deck of the Reindeer, a
captured blockade runner, as she lay at
the dock in Mobile, on the morning of
April 21, I860. Word had reached the city,
brought by the officers of the late con
federacy, of Lee’s surrender several days
before, and two or three of them were
aboard on their way to their homes in
New Orleans. Some of the union officers
had been discharged and were on their
way North. Blue and gray fraternized,
meeting on the common ground of re
joicing that the struggle was over, how
ever they differed in feelings over the
result.
The Reindeer was built for speed and
she made it that day, running easily at a
2»-mile clip. It was in the afternoon that
wo neared Spanish Fort, at the mouth of
the Rigolets, the entrance into Lake
Penchartrain. It wi*s noticed that the
ilag was at half-mast and someone asked,
"Whe’s dead now?' with that callous In
difference men acquired who had been
made familiar with death. Presently a
boat put off from the fort to us and as
the officer in it got near enough to be
heard he shouted: ’’Lincoln was assassi-'
nated.” Smiles vanished, laughter ceased,,
faces sobered, tears ran down the faces,
of men who had not wept for years.
No one spoke. None dared’trust his:
i voice. I looked at the confederates to:
see how they received the news. Their1
faces were as sad as any. I said to one
of them: “This is a sad thing for the
South.” ”Wre have lost our best friend in
all the North.” was his response. We
I found New Orleans draped in black. The
| sentiment expressed by my confederate
acquaintance was general. In the light of
t later days, those of the hideous "recon
struction,” the feeling was one of proph
| ecy. _ _P. J. S.
; A bill has been prepared by Charles
| Francis Adams and introduced in tho
Massachusetts legislature to provide
that there shall be no alteration or
I change In the name of any public way,
j street, place or square, or of any public
park, where the name altered or
changed has been in use for 25 years,
without the consent of the highway
commission of the state. At a hearing
on the measure representatives of many
1 patriotic societies favored it.
The postage stamp made its first
1 appearance In 1839. Its invention is J
due to James Chalmers, a printer of
Dundee, who died in 1S63. England
adopted the adhesive stamp, according
to a decree of December 21, 1839, and
Issued the first stamps for public uso
on May 6, 1S40. A year later they
were introduced in the United States
i and Switzerland, and soon after in
Bavaria, Belgium and France.
Blind man’s buff was played in Franc*
1,000 years ago.
England consumes over 800,000 pounds of
tea daily.
YOUNG MEN—$3.00 to $5.00 per day. W*orh.
at home. Send dime for particulars.
Chas. S. Nourse, Esthervitle, Ta.
(? . ^
GROOMING COUNTS
But It cannot make a Fair Skin or a
Glossy Goat.
Women with good
complexions connot
be homely. Creams,
lotions, washes and
powders cannot make
a fair skin. Every
horseman knows that
tho satin coat of his
thoroughbred comes
from the animal’s
“all-right” condition.
Let tho horse get
“off his feed” and his
coat turns dull. Cur
rying, brushing and rubbing will give
him a clean coat, hut cannot produce
the coveted smoothness and gloss of
the horse’s skin, which is his com
plexion. The ladies will see the point.
Lane's Family
Medicine
Is the best preparation for ladies who
desire a genllo laxative inedioino that
will give the body perfect cleanliness
internally and tho wholesomeness
that produces such skins as painters
love to copy. At druggists’, 25c.
Vo—■ .. ■ v
jil Stop Coughing! |i|
K&Q Nothing breaks down the health so
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