THE INTERSTATE LIVE STOCK FAIR “The Peoples Fair” A Celebration A Festival A Vacation A Recreation SIOUX CITY, IA. Sept. 15th to 19th A Varied Program,, Everybody Entertained, the Event of the Season, An Exposition, Stock Show, Race Meeting and Carnival all Combined. A MAMMOTH DISPLAY OF LIVE STOCK - AGRICULTURE - FRUIT - MACHINERY An Aristocracy of Live Stock. Big, New and Entertaining Features Daily. Something to Interest, Instruct and Amuse Everybody. Ti!E BEST RACE MEETING TO BE SEEN THIS YEAR 12-Big Harness Events-12 9-East and Exciting Running Races-9 Over the best Half-mile track in the West 7-Big Unparalleled and Spectacular tree Acts-7 Every Act a Feature Act The Best Money Can Buy 30-of the World’s Greatest Performers-30 Every Day a Big Day—Something Doing All the Time Special train service on all railroads. For premium list and further information, address F. L. EATON, President, JOE MORTON, Secretary, Sioux City, la. Sioux City, la. Save Work Worry Money by using a Stover Gasoline ■BBS Engine. Made right. Sold right Send for llustrated catalogue free. SANDWICH MEG. CO. Council Bluffs, la. General Agents. FORT PECK INDIAN RESERVA TION MONTANA REGISTRATION —Register at Grand Falls or Havre, Mont., daily Sept ist to 20th inclusive. RATES—Round trip rates to Great Falls or Havre from Omaha. Lincoln, Hastings.and other Nebraska points, $35.00, ON SEPTEMBER 9TI-I AND 16TH. CHARACTER OF SOIL—*S6,6d7 acres classified as farming lands and 737,181 acre; classified as grazing lands. Write for m ips and further particulars. 2, CLEM BEAVER Immigration Agent 1004 Firnam Street, Omaha, Nebraska Effl Kan "\X7"e ZEPrint Sale Bills That Attract Attention Snatched From The Burning An Old Time Romance By F. A. MITCHEL *- — Carrie, iny niece, has asked me to put the story. of my life in writing. She says that it may save many a girl who is disposed to turn aside warnings of those who are older than she from yielding to a love which they can see is not for her good and may be for her ruin. It is an old fashioned story, for it occurred in an old fashioned time and in an old fashioned country. The state where 1 was born—Georgia—was then a slave state, and \conditions were adapted to that Institution. There were three distinct classes—the planters, the poor whites and the negroes. My par ents sprang from the poor white class, but my father was a Very industrious man for one living in an enervating climate and accumulated enough means to buy a small plantation and a few negroes. Consequently I grew up be tween two classes. We were above the poor whites, but were not received by the planters. It was said that at seventeen I was a beauty. Alas, no one would think it to see me now, a shriveled old woman with thin snow white hair. They did not tell me so, and I was unconscious of my good looks. Social life in those days was very different from what It Is now. I suppose human nature Is always the same, but it seems to me now that good persons—I refer to the higher classes—were better than now and the bad were worse. This was especially so with our young men. Many of them—most of them, I should say—were Imbued with noble senti ments. With them to be a gentleman was to be honorable. But there were bad ones, who were especially un scrupulous In their dealings with wo men—men who regarded it the part of a gentleman to make a conquest even to the ruin of the object of his atten tions. The atmosphere of that period has completely passed away, the good and the bad having been fused be tween the two. There are now few, if any, young men with the noble im pulses of the typical gentleman of that day, nor are there any such evil char acters as were portrayed by the novel ists of that period. It fell to my lot to be caught between two men who were representatives of these two classes. They were both gentlemen, the one of a kindly nature, who would consider that a mean or dishonorable act would not only dis grace him, but his family even back to generations long dead; the other without any conscience whatever. When I was fifteen years old my father one day sent me with a note to Colonel Carroll, one of the wealthiest and most respected planters of our re gion. On the veranda sat a youth of about twenty at a table with books before him. He was Courtney Car roll, a recent graduate of the Univer sity of Virginia. As I ascended the steps he looked up at me and I saw admiration in his eyes. He rose and advanced to meet me, and I handed him the note. He called a negro, told him to take it to his father, and select ing a comfortable chair handed it to me. He refrained from his books while I waited, seeming to consider It in cumbent upon him to entertain me while I waited for an answer to the note. Colonel Carroll brought it out to me himself and apologized for not sending one of his negroes with It, courteously thanking me for consent ing to be its bearer. iMxiuruny x, a girx suu ill suori ureas es, was much Impressed with so much consideration from such high grade persons. How remarkable that one whose father had but recently emerg ed from the poor white class should be an object of attention from those who owned a thousand slaves. When I was seventeen years old I met another of the aristocrats of that day, who turned out to be the re verse of a Carroll. I was leaning on the fence of my father’s plantation one day when a gay party of hunters came galloping by. They disappeared down the road, and presently a young man, also in the scarlet coat of a huntsman, came along and, reining up before me, asked mo if I had seen the others. I told him they had just passed and if he rode on he would soon overtake them. But it was evi dent from the way his eyes were fixed on me that he was disposed to turn from the game he was pursuing to a different kind. X remember that my eyes dropped before his gaze and I felt a warmth in my cheeks. This young man was Harry Du Bols, who had by the death of his father Just come into possession of a large plantation. He asked me a number of questions, evidently for excuses to talk with me instead of riding on, and presently, on pretense of tightening his saddle girth, he dismounted and stood near me on the other side of the fence, chatting glibly and paying me compli ments. This was the first time any one had told me that I was beautiful, and It gave me a thrill I shall never forget. It was tike second time I had noticed admiration in a young gentleman’s eyes, but young Carroll had not paid me a single compliment Since my visit to the Carroll planta tion Courtney had dominated my thoughts, but now he was superseded by Harry Du Bols. The former seem ed cold beside the latter. Besides, Car roll did not seek me, while Du Bols rode by our little dentation freauently and, If I was within hearing, would al ways stop to chat These meetings were at once noticed by my dear par ents, nnd I remember with pain their troubled looks whenever I had been talking with Du Bois. Then mother spoke to me about the matter, telling me that wlieu a gentleman became de voted to a girl beneath him In station only trouble would come of it. But I turned a deaf ear to what she said, so Infatuated was I with the man who was charming me as a snake will charm a bird. I can only refer without particulariz ing to the courtship. I have wondered since that at so tender an age I should have resisted one so persuasive. Per haps this was due to the influence of my mother, who. If she could not in duce me to break with my lover, at least convinced me that if he was sin cere he would ask me to be his wife. So at last he dtd, but said that his mother, who was living, would not consent to the alliance. She was very feeble and could last but a short time. So Harry persuaded me to marry him clandestinely. When I remember that I was to be made the victim of a mock marriage I realize how far I nm now removed from that age. Such weddings were then a common method of victimizing innocent girls. Now they are unheard of. The little church where I met Du Bols is still standing, though the persons who worship In it are much changed. The ceremony was to take place at night, for I was pledged to keep It a secret from my parents. I remember that I passed through a se vere mental struggle before I could bring myself to deceive them, but I tried to think of how proud they would be when I was acknowledged as the wife of a wealthy and aristocratic planter. Yet in my heart 1 knew that I did not confide in them, for they would surely prevent the marriage if they knew It was to take place. It was near midnight when I got out of my window on to the veranda and descended by the limb of n magnolia tree that overhung it. I can see now in the moonlight the manor house, the negroes' white cabins flanking it, the double row of moss covered trees lead ing to the gate. I had scarcely readied it when Harry clasped me in ills arms. My legs seemed about to give way be neath me, and he carried me to a two wheeled cart, placed me in it and drove me to the church. It was dark, the reflected light of the moon only shin ing from a pane of glass. Some one opened a side door and I was led in, the moonlight streaming through gothic windows, to the chancel. There stood a clergyman In his vest ments. A lamp such as is used to throw a light on a sermon alone was burning low. He turned it up, its light falling on a prayer book. Then he be gan to r^ad the marriage service. He seemed to be unfamiliar with it and constantly stumbled. But so far as I was able to take cognizance of this I attributed it to haste. lie came to the part where an opportunity is given to enter a protest against the marriage, when a voice from behind said: "Don't mnke a noise, gentlemen. I got word of your scheme this after noon. You talked too loud at the St I.eger tavern. On the young lady’s ac count this affair must be kept quiet Du Bols, you are a villain of the deep est dye. As for you. Markham, you are beneath contempt.” These words sounded in my ears as if they came from a distance. Others were spoken, but I don’t remember them. Then the same voice spoke to me, the light fell for a moment on the speaker’s features, and I saw Courtney 1 Ul I. “Will you permit me to get you home? I will try to do so without your return being known.” I knew now that I had been tricked and that I had been saved. X put my trembling hand on Carroll's arm and left the church with him. When I got home I was too weak to ascend to my room as I had come down from it, and Carroll climbed the magnolia, went, into my room, stepped downstairs and opened the door for me. I reached my chamber without arousing any one. The next morning I deferred going downstairs till all had breakfasted. When I entered the dining room, pale and trembling, Susan, the servant, said to me: "I.aws n-tnassy, Missy Alice, hub yo’ hearn de awful news?” "No For heaven’s sake, what Is It?” “Dis mawilin' about sun up Mnrse Courtney Carroll and Mnrse Harry Du Bois fit a duel, and Marse Carroll done got pretty nigh killed.” IIow 1 bore this second blow I can not conceive. It took Susan but a moment to hurl the shaft, but the pain I suffered is with me today, an old woman. Courtney Carroll lingered for several days, then died. Shortly before his death he sent for me to come to him. X was carried therp in a benumbed state of feeling and received by his father. 1 can see to this day on his face the look of loving sympathy and distress at his approaching loss. He led, or rather supported, me to his son’s chamber and left me there, nil others having gone out at my arrival. “Pardon my interference in your af fair,” he said. “Had 1 not known you were to be made a victim I would have left j'ou to do us you liked. 1 have sent for you not only to apolo gize for my interference, but to con fess to you that ever since your com ing here two years ago 1 have been battling with a desire to become a suitor for your hand. Why I was de terred from doing so need not be mentioned. 1 was about to yield when I learned that Du Bois had stepped in before me. That is all. I preferred that you should know that I had more than an ordinury reason for becoming Tour champion.” Tabitha Interferes “Things Arc Not What They Seem" By ADELAIDE BURNHAM From her seat behind the parlor cur tains Tabitha Campbell listened shamelessly to the words that young Frederick Lee was murmuring to pret ty Agatha, her niece, “It’s my duty by a motherless girl,” said Tabitha defiantly to her con science, and she turned her good ear close to the curtains sugglng against the open window. ‘‘Tomorrow night, then,” said Fred erick with a long sigh of relief. “Yes,” assented Agatha timorously. ‘‘At 11 o’clock. Surely?” “Yes.” “I’ll drive you to Mlllton, and the minister there will”— Ills words drift ed Into on indistinct murmur ns the Wind rushed through the garden and stirred the syringu bushes. Tabitha arose and went Into the sit ting room, where she blinked at the lighted lamp. She was a little, hard featured, black eyed woman with white hair aud sprightly movements that made her appear evfen younger than her fifty years. Now her black eyes snapped with anger as she sat down in a rocking chair and picked up some knitting. Agatha came In and locked the front door. When sho appeared In the sit ting room her blue eyes were very bright and a pink flush stained her usually pale cheeks. “I thought I told you I wouldn’t have Jacob Lee’s, boy running here,” snap ruul TnhRhn Agatha was silent “Has he got a job?” pursued Tabitha. “Yes. I told you his father had taken him into the bank,” replied Agatha spiritedly. “Frederick is—is—nice. I don't see why you dis-disllke him so. Aunt Tab.” “I have my reasons.” “If you would only tell me, Just tell me what it is you have against him, Aunt Tab, I might understand.” "It’s all in the past,” murmured Ta bitha somewhat vaguely. Her cheeks reddened as If at some unpleasant memory. "It’s not fair to keep me In the dark, and I shall never believe one word against him unless you prove it so there!" Agatha whirled out of the room and up the stairs into her own little room overhead. What Agatha did not know was that once upon a time Tabitha had been a black eyed beauty engaged to marry Jacob Lee. But Jacob had proved a fickle lover, and when he took a bride to his home it was a handsome girl from Mlllton who had money in her own right That Jacob’s wife died and left him with little Frederick three years after the marriage did not move Tabitha Campbell to pity. In the meantime her hair had whitened and her face grown sharp and peaked. Now she became the village dress maker, nnd when Agatha came to live with her every one said how nice It was that Tabitha would not be alone. Now Agatha was planning to elope with Frederick Lee. Tabltha’s eyes burned strangely in the darkness as she thought of these things. Thn rinvt /In tt nnocrul n a IIoil al. Tabltha sewed busily In her sharp, Jerky way In the room devoted to her work. Several customers came and tried on garments and looked over the pile of fashion books on the table or examined the tissue paper patterns pinned on a tape along the wall. Aga tha did the housework deftly and be tween whiles stitched on the sewing machine in the corner. As evening drew near the two wom en became distinctly nervous. Tabl tha cut Mrs. Demmet’s gray cashmere Into a three piece skirt by a twenty two Inch waist pattern when Mrs. Demmet measured thirty-four inches and was proportionately massive. It was characteristic of Tabitha’s mood that she first threw the mangled cash mere across the room with the scissors flying in its wake. Then she picked them up and, tucking the cashmere un der her arm, went grimly forth to in terview Mrs. Demmet When bedtime came Agatha came and placed her arms around Tabitha’s neck. The astonished spinster did not move, but silently endured the em brace, and If there were tears In her hard eyes the girl did not see them. She went to the door and turned a wistful gaze on the older woman. “I’m sorry you don’t like him,” she said painfully, and went slowly up stairs. Tabltha put out the light and went silently about her preparations. She went upstairs and closed the door of her bedroom and then returned to the sitting room to envelop herself in a long gray cloak and tie a white chif fon veil over her face and hair. She slipped out of the side door and went across the grass to an opening in the boxwood hedge that bordered the gar den. Standing outside there on the path In the shadow of the maple trees, sho awaited the coming of Agatha’s lover. Clouds were drifting overhead, and now and then the moon peeped out The little house lay In deep shadow. Presently the church clock struck 11, and at the same Instant came the sound of hoofs on the sandy road. A covered buggy came slowly along, and the horse stopped In front of Tabitba’s sat». 4 In an Instant she had reached the] vehicle and had climbed Into its dark Interior. A man’s startled voice ut tered a sharp exclamation of surprise “Hurry!” whispered Tabltha. "Get away as fast as you can. She Is com ing after me.” “But”— began the familiar voice of Frederick Lee, and Tabltha hushed him desperately. “Hurry, please hurry, or > shall go back!” “All right. I suppose you know where you’re going,” said the man grimly. “Mlllton, of course,” snapped Tabl tha so sharply that he leaned down and tried to look Into her face, but It was too dark to distinguish anything except the pale, cloudy outline of her veil. He clucked to the horse, and they went noiselessly down the road on rubber tired wheels. At the crossing they turned Into the Mlllton highway. Tabltha was somewhat disturbed at the success of her maneuver. She had planned to elope with Frederick Lee and at a convenient opportunity, per haps In the very presence of the wait ing minister, she would disclose her identity and “give Frederick a piece of her mind.” Yet, somehow, In spite of her disguise and the darkness of the night, Frederick seemed suspicious of her. If he had been sure It was Aga tha, the girl so soon to become his wife, would he not, being an ordinary young man, have placed his arm about her or at least saluted her with a kiss? •Out of the fullness of her own past romance Tabltha told herself he would have done all these things, yet there they sat speechless, slowly driving Into Mlllton to be married, or at least Fred erick expected to be. "Where are we going?” asked the man suddenly as they turned Into a sparsely settled section on the out skirts of Mlllton. “Do you mean to say you don’t know?” shrilled Tabltha through the folds of white chiffon. Or course not Ills voice was In dignant "You’re Tabltha Campbell's niece, aren’t you?" "I’m Miss Campbell," whispered Tabltha, a great fear clutching at her heart, for the voice was that of Fred erick Lee, but It held deeper, richer notes. Perhaps Frederick’s would reach that pitch some day If he lived long enough. There was only one other who could have spoken with that same intonation, and that other was Freder ick’s father. “Well, Agatha Campbell,” said Jacob Lee kindly, “what do you want? You asked me to carry you to Mlllton, and when we arrive you will not tell me where you want to go. Now, there is something queer about this, and I’m going to take you back to Farmdale and straight to your aunt” He spoke with an air of authority and at the same moment turned the horse about and went back over the road they had traveled. Tabltha sat crushed and stunned in the comer, shrinking away from her old lover. What would he say If he knew she—Tabltha—was there beside him? They rodp together twenty-five years ago, and since then they had passed each other with averted faces. Swiftly they rolled along through the wooded way until a carriage approach ing from the opposite direction caused them to turn aside into the thicket to permit the other vehicle to pass. The other carriage struck a "Thank you ma’am," and a girlish shriek startled them. “Don’t be afraid, Agatha,” said Frederick’s tender voice. Then they were gone. After awhile Tabltha’s companion I nnnlfA' 1 “That was my son’s voice, and he was talking to Agatha Campbell," he said sternly. “Now, who are you?” Tabitha stiffened. “I am Tabitha Campbell,” she said haughtily. “Good heavens!” exclaimed the man. They rode on In silence. When they were in front of Tabitha’s cottage the driver let down the buggy top so that the moonlight fell on Tabitha’s face. Gently he untied the white veil while she sat in frozen silence. When it had fallen about her shoulders in a swirl ing cloud he leaned forward, and she saw that it was Indeed Jacob Lee. “Tell me all about It, Tabitha,” he said gently. “You are in trouble." Tabitha caught her breath—why, it was all Just as though the dreary years had not come between them. Ja cob was speaking in his old authori tive tone. She told him the story of the pro jected elopement “You mean—you mean that you were set against my boy?” he asked in a stunned tone. Tabitha was silent “Well,” he drew a deep breath, "if you’ve held resentment all these years. Tab, why, you must have cared, al though somebody told me that you were tired of me. Well, that doesn't excuse me for what I did, but I’ve had years enough to think it all over and to be ashamed of the part I played.” Still Tabitha was silent “If you—why, perhaps you—Tabitha, do you still care after all these years?” How wonderfully tender was his voiceI "I don’t know,” quavered Tabitha, “but I’ve been so lonely, and it seems good for you to be here.” “Then it Is all right. Tab," he cried gayly. His arm slipped around her. and she fell naturally Into the curve of it “We will have some happy years yet if God is willing. I guess we met Fred and Agatha in the woods. They must be married by this time. Shall we drive on to meet them and tell Fred how near he came to eloping with you?” He laughed softly. “Yes, do,” whispered Tabitha meek ly. “And you can tell him 1 decided to clone with ids father Instead.”