|A Belated;! I Traveler | The Woman Who Saw the ^ Association. < * The village of Enderley was looking forward to an era of prosperity. When a stripling in the postoffice called it a boom Deacon Carder launched forth into a tirade against such a proposi tion. "Butterworth’s givin1 good, wages,” he said, "but you wait till he gits in a pussol id foreign hands.” "Easy, Carder, easy! They do say he's buying land all along the river road and going to put up these new fangled model tenements,” pacified the postmaster. Passing down the street, the deacon saw young Jack Butterworth rapping tit the door of the Dyer girls and ex claimed: "Either on 'em old 'nough to be his grandmother, an' Analine bed ridden at that. Humph! Prob'ly he's up to his pa’s tricks an’ wantin’ to buy there nu' start a hifalutin sul phite mill. Stuff an' nonsense, 1 say!” Meantime the young man was vigor ously using the ancient knocker on the door of the small white house, but, re ceiving no response, was about to turn away when the sudden shrill blast of a horn from within assured him that the dwelling was not tenantless. "I’m coming,” called a high pitched voice, and a wiry little old lady in gingham gown and flapping sunbonnet appeared from the garden at the rear. “Deary me! I was out getting butter beans, and when I heard sister’s horn 1 was all of a fluster. But come right in now, do! "Sister, this is Mr. Butterworth,” in troduced Miss Caroline deprecatingly. But the sister, an invalid, waved her hand with impatience. “Don't mind me. I ain’t to home. Been in Japan the whole afternoon. Just going to ride out in one o’ them jinny gocarts this minute. Say,” she continued ir relevantly, with a birdlike change of demeanor, “did you hear my horn?” She proudly tapped an old cornet as she spoke. “Hear it, Miss Analine! My ears are ringing yet. Do you play often?” he asked, with lingering amusement. “Sister doesn’t really play,” Miss Caroline hastened to explain. "No, but she can blow like old Bo rax,” the invalid rejoined, with a shrewd twinkle in her eyes. "Boreas, Boreas, you mean, sister,” corrected the other gently. "Well, I call him Borax.” There was the insistence of a spoiled child in the sick woman's tone. “One toot means 'Some one at the door.’ Two toots mean ‘I want you myself.’ ’’ Then she gravely observed, “The jin ny gocart's waiting,” and withdrew her interest from the conversation. “I’m afraid it’s hopeless,” he admit ted ruefully to his father afterward. “If the Dyer place didn’t happen to be located exactly as it is—fairly adjoin ing the ‘river road' property—of course we’d never give it another thought. And what would ever induce that quaint old pair to give up their home? Those poor souls! By the way, father, have you ever seen Miss Analine, the bedridden one, who has a mania for traveling and so pretends »he's con stantly on the road?” All, IIUIICI »YUl 111 UIUIUIUCU edly on his oflice desk before answer ing. “No, but I should think the change would suit the old lady to a T from all accounts. "By Jove, father, do you know I be lieve I have a scheme! I'm deter mined to win yet, but I’ll keep my plan to myself for the present.” "Well, success to you, Jack,” was the hearty wish as the paternal gaze rested admiringly on the animated face. “I Judge the Dyer ‘girls’ are likely to have a persistent caller.” Subsequent events proved the truth of the prophecy, for the following aft ernoon saw the runabout ngain before the old house. The front door was ajar, and Miss Aualine called with un wonted graciousness: “Come in! Come In if you want to! Caroline’s over to Mis’ Skillins, but I’m just getting back from Venice myself. I’ll be home in a jiffy. My,” she exulted, “but It’s fine gondoliug on the Grand canal!” She breathed u sigh of rapture as she looked up. “Enderley, too, is an uncommonly pretty place to any one who has an eye for natural beauty,” he finally ventured. Miss Analine’s face clouded. “May be," she assented reluctantly. “The town is improving fast," pur sued the undaunted youth, launching into a glowing account of recent changes and bettered conditions. “Down in the village, now, on Main street, there’s so much pnssing it’s sometimes absolutely lively.” The black eyes in the withered coun tenance shone with speculative appre ciation, and the speaker resumed: “I should think you and Miss Caroline would—ahem!—take a notion one of these days to move down in the midst of things, where you’d have more neighbors. Haven’t you ever thought of selling the farm and taking a small er place there?” Mr. Butterworth, Sr., would have de tected germs of diplomatic talent in the apparent innocence with which the question was proffered, but the old lady was wholly unsuspicious and re torted with t sniff of scorn: “What Yankee would ever lack gumption bad enough to buy this farm, do you sup pose? Caroline cau’t raise a thing on it but hay ’n’ potatoes ’n’ pusley, with a mess of butter beaus now ’n’ then. Besides, though I’m away from home a good deal myself, I do seem to need this place for a kind of depot.” An expression of sly humor lighted the invalid’s countenance, but her lis tener's manner was merely one of grave attention. “I see,” he remarked quietly. “But, Miss Anallne, some peo ple travel in their own private cars. IIow would it strike you and your sis tre if you could get a good price for the farm and still keep the house here for a sort of car perhaps? Travel in it to your new home, say?” “Young man, be you crazy?” Ited spots burned in the faded cheeks, and there was stern interrogation in the voice. msieu, aiiss .vnaiino, was uie ear nest entreaty, and in reassuring tones the plan was little by little unfolded by which the Butterworth company might gain possession of the coveted land and yet the two old ladies be at the same time enriched, while, best of all, the belated traveler could at last take a trip in very truth. Therefore when Miss Caroline made her tardy appearance she found her sister sitting upright in excitement, so engrossed in conversation with Jack Butterworth that she was utterly ob livious to the fact that Snooks, the gray kitten, wras playing with the map of Africa in a way which threatened the immediate destruction of the dark continent. “Caroline,” summoned an imperious voice, “it's high time you got here. We’re going to sell tills farm, you 'n' I, and take a trip abroad. My, but won't the Enderley folks stare!” "Remember,” admonished the auto crat, “not a word of this is to be lisped till we’re ready to start on our trip. Won't it give Enderley a turn, though!” She chuckled as she packed her books and maps in a neat pile on the stand at the side of the bed. "Tomorrow, sister,” she proclaimed, “we'll begin to make over my brown alpaca for a traveling dress. I wonder if rutiles or bias folds would look best for any one going away.” But there was no reply, for the mind of the other was busy with both pros pect and retrospect. “How can I give up the dear old place?” she finally asked, with a groan. “But such an offer as he made! ’Twould seem like flying in the face of Providence to refuse. Laud sakes, though, how up set I am!” she wailed. “That’s just it,” retorted the invalid with asperity. “It’s ‘land sakes’ and nothing else. Haven’t we still got the house, and aren’t we going to live in a good lot down next to the Baptist minister’s when we get home from our travels? Caroline Dyer, if you’d been around the world as much as some folks you'd likely have more sense than you’ve ever got yet. I should think you'd go now and get supper with a glad heart like a Chris tian. I feel to eat a hefty meal my self.” Thus admonished, the mourn ful one wus forced to bestir herself. Succeeding morrows rolled into the present and then the past until one morning a smiling youth arrived wdth the gay anouncement: “The private car is ready and horses are in sight for the—baggage, shall I say? ‘All aboard,’ Miss Analine?” “Wait till my bonnet and shawl’s on,” commanded the bedridden trav eler. Then, noting an involuntary smile, she grimly added, “When you’re making a real start for the first time in a good many years, young man, I think you’ll want to go seemly and prepared.” iumn nuamic »* v_v_i vimv.» l stages of her triumphal progress, and the unusual excitement served as a bracing tonic. “We stop down by the Carder farm tonight,” she announced on the second day with the manner of one about to behold untold glories, but it was the following noon that a discovery was made which thrilled Miss Caroline with the awakening of a hope long deferred. She was getting dinner at what they termed a “way station” when she re marked with a perturbed expression, “I declare, Analine, I’m coming to be as forgetful as old Grandma Skillins. Why, I should have vowed I had a big piece of berry pie in the butt’ry for your dinner, but there ain’t so much as a bite.” She looked at the scanty repast with regret, but great was her nmazeinent to hear her sister acknowledge with a mixture of pride and contrition, “Come to think of it, that must have been the identical pie I ate last night." Miss Caroline dropped into a chair. “Analine Dyer,” she gasped, “tell me the truth! Uow'd you happen to get that when ’twas in the butt’ry?” There was no attempt at conceal ment, but a characteristic explanation was in readiness. “Don’t get flustered, Caroline. You net as floppy as if you was car sick. You see, ’twas this way: I got to sort of dwelling on the sub ject of China in the night, and from thinking how pesky the famine was there I happened to feel a hankering for something to nibble on myself, and I found I could and did get to the butt'ry. So there, that’s all. Now, there’s no call to take on,” she finish ed, for Miss Caroline had thrown her apron over her head and was rocking back and forth, shedding tears of joy. The room seemed suddenly filled with contentment. A vista of peace ful days in which to continue their brief journey together toward the set ting sun opened before the pair, and two old hands were tightly clasped in each other as a cheery voice outside called “All aboard!” MR. BINNEY'S FAILURE. Opinions by Neighbo-s, Creditors «nc His Family. Mr. Binney failed iu business. One of Ids neighbors said, "At last?" Another neighbor said: "1 though! they were going it pretty strong for a man of his income. : till, l diun't tike to say anything at the time." A third neighbor said: Mb, Pm so sorry! My deal, we must go over and give Mrs. Binney our deepest sympa thy. I'm dying to see how she is luk ing it." One brother-in-law said: "if he find lent me that $500 I asked him for last year he'd have been that much ahead, anyway. Much good it did him to keep it. Too bad. though, of cou.se." Another brother-in-law said: "Sly oid boy, Binney. lie's got it sailed away somewhere, all right. Don't you wor ry.” Ills batcher said: "Now, a poor fu.tn like me has to pay his debts as lie goes along. All the same. I'm not worrying about the $20 lie owes me, but i'll bet you if 1 owed anybody $20 they'd make my life a misery till they got it.” His wife's best friend (to Mrs. Kin ney): "Now, my dear, you mustn't mind any of the awful tilings you hear. At a time like this people will talk.” A friend: "A man must either have exceptional capital or exceptional abil ity to succeed in business nowadays, l’oor Kinney, as it happens, had nei ther.” A second friend: “How much will he be able to pay? Tweuty-tlve cents on the dollar? How did there come to be so much? Did Binney overlook it?” A third friend: “Ninety-live per cent of business enterprises are unprofita ble. There’s nothing like a steady, well paying position.” A knowing acquaintance, "Wise old Binney.” His daughters, “We must hold our heads up higher than ever or people will say that we are ashamed.” Ills wife, “He’ll be home more now, and that Is everything.” Binney: “Whew! Thank heaven it’s over. Now I’ve got to hustle and* get a job.”—New York Sun. A CITY OF DANGERS. Going Out at Night In Mosul Means Imperiling One’s Life. Mosul, ou tlie western bank of the Tigris, is described in “The Short Cut to India,” by David Fraser, as a place of some difficulty for the residents. I’rices of every mortal thing are dear er than anywhere else in Turkey. Water is procured only from the Ti gris, and every drop required must be carried therefrom in skins upon don keys. Two pounds a month is a very ordinary expenditure on this essential and provides but a scanty bath. To go out at night is to place one’s life in jeopardy. To walk across the bridge In broad daylight IS’ a d&trger owing to the frailty of the structure. The bridge is a wonderful affair and yields an income of some thousands of pounds annually to the contractor who farms it from the government. Three hundred yards of it is solid ma sonry and the remaining 150 yards a wooden platform laid upon a row of , I 11 made.with 11! _ _ j A I !1 Baring }| *’“• Powder Jf| Royal is the only baking powder made from Royal Grape Cream of Tartar f' *> r as • crazy boats. Where the bridge of boats abuts the shore at one end and the stone bridge at the other are the points of danger, for owing to the height of the river, when I was there the joinings were at a slope of forty-five degrees and con sisted of narrow gangways up which people, sheep, cattle, donkeys, mules, horses and camels had to scramble. No wonder there were many fallings into the water—dangerous water, too— for it coursed like a cataract between the boats and swirled and boiled In lierce eddies and whirlpools below the bridge. One poor Znbtie, with rifle slung and bandoliers strapped across his chest, was walking across when his horse slipped at the ascent to the boat part of the bridge, and both fell into the water. The horse was rescued, but the man was drowned. Life has small value in Mosul, however, and nobody bothered to mend the huge holes in the bridge or to make its passage less precarious. A Hard Lot. Nicaragua has been distinguished even among Central American repub lics by the number of its revolutions. Discovered by Columbus, it takes its name from the chjef who.ruled.it at the limp of ils exploration by Dmria. in 1522. Of its earliest rulers it has been said that “the first lmd been a murderer, the second a murderer and rebel, the third murdered the second, the fourth was a forger and the fifth a murderer and rebel." Nicaragua abounds in prehistoric remains, and in some parts, It is said, the inhabitants still supply themselves with pottery from the vast quantities preserved be low the surface. Off Duty. Winfred, six years old, was tying pa per boots upon the kitten’s paws when ills aunt remonstrated with him for teasing the kitten, saying, “I thought you belonged to the Band of Mercy.” “Yes. auntie, 1 do,” said Winfred, “but,” he added apologetically, “my badge is on my other coat."—Delineator. Either Way. Silicus—I can’t decide which one of those two girls I want to marry. Cynicus—Well, marry either one of them and you'll discover that you got the wrong one.—Philadelphia Record. The Foolish Maiden. Crawford—So your daughter loves poetry? Crabshaw—Worse than that. She’s fallen in love with one of those fellows who write it.—Judge. Queer Legal Oaths. In Siberia, in the wild Ostayaks layj courts, the natives swear by the newly severed head of a bear, whicli is im plored to subsequently rend and de vour them should they perjure them selves, while in Assam the opposing witnesses lay hold of a chicken by its feet and retain each one-half ns the clerk of the court chops it in two. By undergoing this ceremony they are considered to be pledged to a like fate In the event of their swearing falsely. . —Chicago Journal. Saved Hia Life. “Don’t chide me for carrying a re volver. Tliis little gun saved my life once.” “How exciting! Tell me about it.” “I was starving, and I pawned it.”— Cleveland Deader. The Scornful. “What are the seats of the scorn ful?" “Didn’t you ever have n friend pass you perched up in a flue automobile?” —Louisville Courier-Journal. i<’lre and sword are but slow en gines of destruction in comparison wfvh 1 lie bnlibler.—Steele, BALADIN NO. 45747. I . ■' g 1 —a -• gg——5 t 11 -- I - MB EBB S 3HB3 II m ^ The above picture is a true likeness of BALADIN No. 45747 imported from l France by lams of St. Paul, Nebraska. He is known as the John Colbert horse. He is a blue roan, a good looker and actor and weighs a ton at the | present time. He can be seen for the coming season at his owners stable in O 'Neill, Nebraska. D. A DOYLE, Owner.