wmmi
CHAPTER XXV (Continued)
After bis last speech Colonel Prinsep
had addressed himself to Mrs. Knox: but
though apparently giving all his atten
tion to what she was saying, he heard
every word that passed in the window
corner to which Jane had returned.
"Promise me," Jack Blount was saying,
eagerly "promise me that you will wear
the flowers I send yon.
"Miss Knox won't promise that, I m
ore," cried Valentine Graeme, boyishly
Impulsive.
"Why notr asked Bloont, with a con
ceited emile.
"Because I have sent her some already
and and it would not be fair!"
"Favors don't go by roster'." contempt
uously. Jane smiled, but would not commit her
self to an opinion.
"How do yon generally decide which
bouquet you will take?" asked Barry
Larron lounging op to them, hi dark
face expressive of mingled amusement
and admiration,
"I take the prettiest." answered June.
"Don't you think that is as good a way
as any out of the difficulty?"
"And if they are equal in their merits?"
"Then I choose the one that best
matches my dress,"
"Scarlet and white go with anything:"
exclaimed Val Graeme, esgerly.
Jnst then Mrs. Knox called to him to
corroborate a statement, and as Barry
Larron also turned away, Jack Blount
leaned forward.
"I shall send you yellow roses," he said,
in an undertone, which, however, two
people overheard.
A thought flashed across Colonel Prin
aep'a mind that were he to send her n
bouquet he wonld guarantee to please
her taste. He knew all her favorite
scents ami flowers, and was also aware
of the fancy she had for always by
preference wearing white.
Nor had Major Larron been less ob
servant, and an idea struck him then that
caused a sardonic smile to flit across bis
lips.
Colonel Prinsep rose to say "good-by,"
and the others followed his example, the
-Adjutant and the K. D. C. staying a mo
ment to wrangle alwiut the number of
dances each was to receive. When this
was settled to the satisfaction of neither
the Hon Barry Larron put in bis
claim
CHAPTER XXVI.
When iheir visitors were gone. Mrs.
Knox sunk down upon a chair, and
fanned herself vigorously.
"What could have made him come?"
ahe sighed out at length, and though no
name was mentioned. Jane did not pre
tend to doubt as to whom the pronoun re
ferred. "Perhaps it was what he said a sense
of duty." she answered, quietly. Yet,
though outwardly calm, a gleam in her
hazel eyes told of inward excitement, and
her fingers were fidgeting nervously with
the silver buckle of her lelt.
She wondered whether he bud noticed
Mr. Blount's attention, and whether it
were in her power to inflict a pang upon
him by encouraging the same. She felt
hurt and sore, capable of doing or say
ing anything thnt wcrld move his im
penetrable calm. If was so hiimiliuting
trt know that s!i" lov. d him still, and
most love him always, while he had for
gotten quite.
She bad gone into I he veranda to grow
cool, and so be alone, wandering round
to the other side of the house, out of
sight of the drawing-room windows.
Presently the sound of her own name
smote her ear. and turning, she saw Ser
geant Lynn standing in the shadow of a
near clump of trees.
"I want to speak to you," he said, in
low voice.
For a moment she hesitated and shrunk
back. The man was looking white and
haggard, and she did not feel equal to
the violent scene which his whole appear
ance and manner portended.
"You are afraid of me," he remarked,
with bitterness.
This decided her. ITr father' Tcrai
bat lay on the chair, and snatching it up,
she crushed it on her bright hair and ran
juickly down the steps to join him.
"I did not know that you were back."
"We oidy marched in this morning,
nnd directly 1 could get away I came
here. I have been waiting more than
three hours on the chance of seeing you."
"Why did you not come fo the house?"
"With the Colonel, and the Adjutant
nnd Major Larron. snlaining all the time
like a native, to show you the great dif
ference there is between them and me?"
scornfully.
"Jacob, Jacob, do nut talk so wildly!"
"I speak as 1 have felt. Surely that
need not shock you. Though you are as
far above me as the angels, you might
pity, instead of shrinking from me. Re
member, what I am you have made me."
"You have no right," she faltered, look
ing up at him with terror-stricken eyes.
"N", I have no right. Of that your
father, rightly or wrongly-1 don't pre
tend to judge deprivetl me, yet 1 never
thought that you would have stooped to
shield yourself behind his authority."
"Nor did I. I know nothing of hia in
tentions. Jacob, you talk of pity, yet
you have; no pity for me. Knowing how
1 tried to be true, yon need not reproach
me so."
"It was the Colonel. If he had not
come, you would hare been my wife
now."
"Perhaps. I never loved you."
"Yon hare told me. that so often, I
wonder I do not give yon hate for hate.
Yon hart, been my eril genius. Had it
not kca for yon I night be my own self,
UaHMd of the miserable drunkard that
I aaa."
"Tt, for yaw esra sake, Jacob, if not
far alia, m aright hart ttriren against
astft a UVftVa aMt Father told roe
that you had promised to refrain, and I
Hoping "
"Hope nothing, Jenny; it is too late for
that now, whatever it might have been
then. I tried at first; for a whole mouth
I did not let a drop pass my lips; then I
grew gloomy and dispirited. I knew I
was only following a will-o'-the-wisp,
that I had no real chance of winning
you, try as I might to be steady snd soiwr.
If yOU WOllId liromisu ma n, .t.iot l.i r, a At4.
"inite, perhaps "
She recoiled from him in dismay.
"Yon don't mean to marry you?" she
cried.
"Would yoo promise that if I asked
you ?"
They had stopped beneath the trees,
and the sunlight, glinting through the
branches, lighted up the gay uniform of
the hussar, and fell upon his good-looking
face as he stood waiting for her to
speak.
"Oh, no, no!" she murmured, and bid
her face in her band.
But he drew them gently down, look
ing sadly into her eyes.
"Don't be afraid, little Jenny. I was
not going to ask that. I know I am not
worthy of you, that it would only be
dragging you down with me. .Nothing
now can save nie from a drunkard's
end."
The tears were str-aming down her
pretty face and her figure swayed rest
lessly to and fro in her agitation, for was
not this all her doing, her fault?
"Oh, Jacob, let me help you - let me do
something to atone:'"
"My pretty one. your sympathy does
me more good than you can know. On
my soul I will try to amend if only to
spare you grief. And, Jenny, promise
me something, too promise me thnt you
will not marry mitil "
"Then so long as you wish me not to
marry I w ill not," she substituted, meek
ly; and lifted her eyes to him so full of
fenderest compassion that, hsiking into
them, he could not but believe she would
hold to what she said, even though his
doubts might return when removed from
her presence.
"Tell me you forgive me," she whis
pered, as she turned to go.
"1 do forgive you; and. Jenny, think of
me. too. as kindly as you can."
He grasped her hands so tightly that
she nearly cried out. His eyes were fixed
npou her intently, as though wishing to
keep her always so in mind - beautiful in
her womanly sorrow, and thinking only
of him.
For a moment he stood so. then with a
deep sigh released her, and strode away,
his head raised defiantly, and cutting at
the head of the tall grasses with his
whip as he went.
When she went in she met her mother
in the hall.
"Jenny, there are some flowers come
for yon. Those yoiuig men spoil you.
that's a fact."
"You know it pleases you far more than
it does me," she said, smiling.
"I believe it does. Yon take it so quiet
ly that one might think you had been ac
customed to it all your life. Why. child,
you have been crying what about?"
bringing her keen eyes to bear upon her
daughter's tear-stained face. "It's not
about the Colonel?" she added, quickly.
"No. no. Is it likely, when lie cares no
little for me?" lifting her head proudly.
"Perhaps for that very reason," thought
Mrs. Knox, shrewdly; but she would not
vex Jane by saying so aloud. "Come and
see your flowers." she said, instead: "and
don't cry any more. Jenny, or 1 shall be
disappointed of seeing my daughter the
acknowledged beauty of the ball. Re
member. I have never participated irl IIUy
of your triumphs yet."
"Then 1 will look lny best for your sake;
but" looking down indifferently at the
creamy blossoms lying in their hed of
green "yon must have these roses,
mother, they will enliven jour black
dress, and 1 shall wear those Mr, Graeme
sent inc."
And in spite of all remonstrances she
carried her point, and Jack Blount's yel
low roses, which he had taken so ininh
trouble to beg. buy and steal from differ
ent places in the station, instead of mak
ing lovelier still the lovely face and fig
ure for which they were intended, adorned
the cheap black silk lace cap of Mrs.
Knox.
But after nil Jane never wore Valentine
Graeme's flowers. Just as she had gone
to her rismi to dress, the ayah came in
carrying a large basket.
Jane drew away the ferns that lay
across the top, and discovered a bouquet
beautifully arranged, with some flowers
lying loose for her gown ami hair. They
were all white, with only delicate maiden
hair ferns nnd their own leaves to lend a
tinge of color.
Whence they had come remained a mys
tery. The man who hail brought them
had left at once, only saying that they
were for 1he "Miss Sahib," and as lie
was a coolie and not liveried servant it
was impossible to guess by whom they
had Wen sent.
Mrs. Knox was ca'llid in to give her
views on the subject, but could throw no
light upon if. and the quartermaster
proved equally bad at guessing.
"Fafher," asked June, abruptly, "have
you heard anything of Jacob Lynn?"
"Tie came in to-day with the rest of the
men from the Hill depot. The change of
air has not done much for him; lie was
looking wretchedly bad, I thought."
"Hoes docs he drink still?"
The quartermaster looked grave. He
had hail hopes of him at first; but latter
ly, for he had made a point of inquiring,
the in counts were very bad.
"I am afraid It is nil up with him!" he
said, at lust. "He has been reduced to a
private, you know, since he left Alipore,
and now, having less to lose, will grow
reckless, I fear."
"Can't do anything for him? I)on'(
you think if we had him here"
"Here!" cried the quartermaster, en.
raced at the idea. "If I catch him here,
I'll break every bone in hia body, What
business had he to go courting yon when
he knew he was no fit hnsband for any
girl. For the matter of that, I ought to
hare known it myself. He coves of a
bad breed, ud he had gut Into bad babita
long bffore 1 suspected anything. As is
always the case, (lie wc most interested
is last to hear the new ,
The subject saa dropped and Jane w as
left at leisure to pursue other and more
pleasurable thoughts. In her own mind
she had decided that the lovely flowers
which had come last aud were exactly
what she herself would have choscu
could have come from none oilier than
Stephen Prinsep.
CHA1TF.R XXVII.
The tnes bouse of the th Hussars
was a very large one, and peculiarly fitted
for occasions like the present, not only
were the rooms wide and lofty, but they
were well shaped as well, and conse
quently easily decorated.
They had already begun the program
when Jane arrived. She came in shyly
behind her father and mother, bul hold
ing her Isiuquct produly in her hand, as
though its possession gave her confide m-e.
She w as wondering w hether Colonel Prin
sep w ould ask her to (lance
She heard his voice sM-aking to her
mother. As host he had come forward
immediately to min t tbeui. and mvw took
Jane's band for a moment in bis own
"You are late. Mis Knox," he said,
and the formality of bis address sent a
chill to the girl's heart.
At this moment Mr. Blount came up.
"Miss Knox, I thought you were nevet
coming. One of our dam-es is already
finished; and, oh, w hy didn't you w ear my
flowers?"
She glanced at Stephen Priusep to see
if he lesiked conscious; but be was talk
ing to her mother again, and apparently
paying no attention to herself.
"I only promised to wear the prettiest,
if you rememls-r," she answered to Jack
Blount.
"I would have sent you white flowers,
if I had known you liked them best; all
white roses."
"I am very glad you did not," she ejac
ulated, sharply
This time the Colonel heard, and turn
ing suddenly, their eyes met. His were
grave in their expression-almost an
gry, she thought: or was it only pained?
Her glance, first sad and shy, grew
"wild with all regret" as the memories
of those days which were do more passed
swiftly through her mind.
She moved toward Jack Blount.
"Don't let us lose this dame. Urn," she
said, hastily, and the next moment was
whirled among the dancer.
Other guests arrived, and Colonel Prin
sep had social duties to perform; but he
found time ever and anon to notice Jane
as she flitted past with her different part
ners. By and by he allowed himself a dance
with 1 'iana Knollys. more because she
was an exceptionally good dancer than
from any memory of their old acquaint
anceship. "My only dance tlmt bat not been a
duty one," he told In r with hit, pleased
smile.
"Then I must fi-cl flattered."
"No, don't do that, or you will make
me vain beyond endurance. Tell me lu
st end how you like Alqiore now that you
know it better."
"You forget that I have been aay
from it as long as you. We went to
Simla for the hot weather. 1 did like
that, but there I knew so many people.
I Here I have scarcely any friends. Miss
Knox is marly my only one."
"You like her? Don't you remember 1
told you that you would?"
"And of course prejudiced me against
her. Women never like each other to
order, you know. But I do like her now
very muc h."
Just then Jnuc passed. Jack Blount
was with her. bis ugly conceited little
face beaming, and exerting himself to the
utmost to mike himself agreeable, evi
dently not failing in hi eudeavur if
Jane's rippling laughter were to lie be
lieved. "I wish she would not emtiuinge him
so." said Miss Kuollys, uneasily.
"Why. don't you think him nir-e?"
"I think him detestable: hut then I am
m arly alone in my opinion. He was im
mensely popular at Simla, and indeed
everywhere women secmei to like him."
"Then why should you hold aloof?"
Diana Knollys smiled archly.
"They say." slit- said, in careless tones,
"be has cfinie here especially to propose
to Jane Knox, and hould she refuse
him "
"Ilo yon think she will?" brok
l.l-
one! 1'rinsep.
"How can I tell?
though in that case
I hope she will, nl
I prophesy for her
what the Frem h cull 'a bud quarter of an
hour." "
lie laughed in reply; but some twenty
minutes later her- words came back to
him, when he saw Jane go into the veran
da with Jack Blount, and after the next
dance had Itegim they were both absent
still. An uneasy feeling prompted him
to follow them.
(To Ik- oiiliniii-d.)
1- :uth fulness.
At the Grcyfrlars' churchyard. In
Edinburgh, Scotland, iberc standi a
beautiful monument erected in memory
of a dog. Tin- statue of the dog on lop
of it cost over l.'sft, and this is the
story; A poor man died and was buried
there. He was followed to h'.s grave
by bis dog. When the other mourners
went home the dog remained and lay
down on his master's grave. The sex
ton drove him away, because dogs are
not allowed fhere. Next morning the
sexton found him on the grave again,
ami Again drove him off. The second
morning be found him ou the grave
Again, and again drove him off. The
third morning was a very cold one.
nnd the sexton found the dog again
lying; on his master's grave, shivering
wlili the cold. His heart relented; he
fed the iiog. Presently the lord mayor
of the city heard about it and sent the
dog a collar, anil a man that kept a
reslaurant near by fed him every day.
I don't know what provision they made
for kennel, but during ten or twelve
years, until be died, he made his home
In that graveyard, and much of the
time lay on his master's grave; mid
now they have built that beautiful
monument to tell future ago of tin
fidelity of thnt pom- man's dog.
Hia Position Killed.
A class of students, holding a grudge
against one of the professors, tied a lire
goose to hi chair. I'pon entering the
room the professor saw the goose, and,
calmly walking tip to the desk, address
ed the class an follows:
"Gentlemen, n you hare succeeded
In getting an Instructor ao much better
qualified to direct the bent of your
ldeaa, I beg you will pardon roe fo re
al gn Ing tb chair. '
--N HIP TAYLOR lived In a section of
U country where dollars looked
alsut as big as cart w bet-la for
the very gissl reason that they were
alsjut as hard to get. By all aorta of
bard work and many kinds of self-denial
Chip bad succeeded by the time
he had reached bin 15tb year in sav
ing about Jlo. which made him seem
a capitalist to all the other boys and also
to a great many men. and an everyone
knew- that Chip waa a wideawake fel
low who was anxious to get into steady
business for himself, so that be could
make life easier for his widowed moth
er and bin little aimers, there was no
end of acquaintance who tried to get
Into partnership with him and help Ulm
spend bis money.
But Chip's father had alwnys wild
that partnership w as a hard ship to sail
In; he liad tried It. and lie knew, io the
boy looked js-raistently for some busi
ness in which he could make hi a own
way. and one day he found it by pur
chasing a small second hand camera
and becoming a tramp pbolagraplier.
Chip's customers had to pay for his
education, for some of the pictures
which he took during hia flnt ''W
weeks were alout as dreadful as could
be imagined by a man with a night
mare, but the customers were not art
critics; besides, Chip's pieces were
cheap, and be wiu the only man In the
business, so he made a little money
from the very etart, which Is more tlinn
some of the worlds greatest artist
have done.
The young photographer had a good
head for business, too; he did not set up
a studio and smoke bad tobacco and
grumble about the dullness of busi
ness. He took hU whole kit in his
hands and roamed aliout the country,
la search of is-ople who he thought
would be the most likely customers
farmers with borBcs which they
thought would fcoll well In the city If
dialers i-oiild know how they looked:
women w ho thought their babies were
the prettiest that ever lived, and young
people who were In love with each
other, and who. therefore, wanted to
exchange pictures.
Anyone who has tried amateur pirn
tography knows that there are "many
slips 'tween the cup and the lip." or.
to speak more to the point, !! ween Ine
plate and the finished picture. There
are about tin many way of spoiling
characters, nnd Chip, without meaning
to do anything of the kind, tried tbein
all.
Practice makes perfect, so, In the
course of time. Chip found himself
clearing alsiut $1 a day, which was a
lot of money for nnyoue to earn in tnut
part of the country'. x
Little by little be learned that por
traim of young people were the most
profitable part of the buainess, and h.
began to lie mart enough to take the
pictures of pretty girls on credit or for
nothing, trusting to luck to find out
which young man wan first or most
gone" on each girl. Then be would
offer the young man. In strict confi
dence, to get him the girl's portrait at
the customary price.
Chip tried the system In revcrse
tiuit Is. by "taking'' wune of the more
popular young ni.-n. trusting to work
t hem off upon suBceptible gills, but
somehow Ibis plan did not amount Id
much.
Hither the girls hadn't any money,
which is ijuite likely, or, still more ....c
ly, tin y didn't want young nien'R faces
badly enough to pay for them, no Chip
gave It up ax a bad job and left bis lat
est plates of young men to ! devel
oped when be bad nothing else 1o do.
One of these undeveloped plates
of Frank Wilscy. lb'' Ih-si looking ami
the most popular store clerk Iti the vil
lage. Almost any glrl wtmld pay a
cent n yard extra for material for a
calico dress for the pleasure of pur
chasing from Frank Wilscy, nnd she
would wait an hour to tw si rve by
Frank rather than buy of the proprie
tor himself.
Frank whs a "great catch" In the es
timation of all the girls rtud their moth,
era, und he became nil the more eo be
cause be dot-lined to lie caught.
Suddenly, however, In the way that the
unexpected has of turning up In even
I lie least protnlsitis places, something
occurred which set nil the village girls
to become jealous nnd envious. Some
people w ho seemed to lw rich, for they
were traveling by carriage, with two
servants In a buggy following, were
obliged to stop in the vilage and call a
physician for one of their party, an old
lady.
The physician said the Invalid must
rest for several days, so there was a lot
of scurrying to find proper accommoda
tions for the party, there being no hotel
in the place. They were finally accom.
modafed by old Mrs. Trewlcy, whose
husband had built the biggest house In
the town and died just as the house
was compleliil.
Old Mrs. Trewlcy quickly became the
most jMipular woman lu the village;
uelghlKirs who had almost forgotten
her soon found excuse to borrow some
thing, or to ask n question which they
had loug wanted to osk anything, for
an excuse to find out about people
whom they had never aeen, but who
seemed to be rich.
The village Interest in the strangers
iDcreoaed when one of the newcomer,
handsome young woman wbo seemed
to wear her Sunday clothe all the time,
appeared on the main atreet of the til
lage and dropped into the two or three
stores, apparently Ix-cause she could
not ajnuse herself unless she wan buy
ing something.
Of course Frank Wilsey did hia tx-st
to sell her something, and sell her as
much of It as jntssilile; people who paid
cash, instead of having things charged,
and who did not try to "beat down"
the prices asked, were as scarce In that
village as saints In rum shops.
It did not take the Tillage girls and
ofher gossips long to learn that the
young woman, whose name wa-s Ku
nlce Trait, did most of her purchasing
at the store In which Frank Wilsey
was clerk and that anyone else who
went Into that store while M'.s Trait
was there was obliged, to wait until
the stranger had made her purchase.
They also learned, or thought they did,
that the young woman t'sik as much
time a possible In trauxactiug her
business
And It was all because she wanted an
excuse to talk as long as she could
with Frank Wilsey, who certainly did
all In his power to be obliging.
Public opinion wan divided on the
subject; the older people said that of
course It was Frank's business to sell
all he could to a person who would
pay ready cash, while the girls sai l
that Miss Trait was a bold, assuming,
artful, hateful thing, and was merely
making a plaything of a young man
w ho ought to 1m? old enough to have his
eye-teeth cut and not to let anyone
make a fool of him.
Public Interest on the aubject became
so great that two apple-paring and one
quilting bee were started in great haste
ao that there might be some good, big
talks.
In the meantime Miss Trait, who
wasnofofd, iMH'ameimmenRely weary of
her enforced stay in a village where
she knew no one and found nothing to
do. One day, while she was making
some small purchase at the store. Chip
Tyler dropjied In for a moment, with
his camera, and Frank asked him how
business. The young woman, after lis
tening a moment, asked abruptly:
"Are yon an amateur photographer?"
"I'm the only photographer of any
kind In this whole country, ma'am,"
replied Chip with a pardonable pride.
"I've always wanted to learn some
thing about it," said Miss Trail. "I
wonder If I could employ you to teach
titer
"I'm ready for anything, ma'am, that
means business," said Chip.
The lady made some inquiries of
Frank Wilsey, who said that Chip was
a clever little fellow, and his studio
was In his mother's own house, and
that the boy had made some pictures
which wVre not bad, so within an hour
Chip was engaged, at the princely sal
ary of a dollar an hour, to teach Miss
Trait all he knew about photography.
He began by taking a picture of Mlsa
Trait herself, telling her the meanlug
of each detail of the operation, and
after the sitting he had her lake a pic
ture of her Instructor. Then teacher
and pupil went Into the room, with
windows screened with yellow paper,
which Frank had called his studio, and
Chip taught MLsa Trait to "develop"
a plate.
Chip began with his own portrait,
which the pupil herself had taken, and
It "came out" so well that the pupil
was delighted and Insisted upon hold
ing the plate In rlie suinight outside,
so that if might dry quickly and be
"printed."
Meanwhile Chip developed the plate
of Miss Trait herself, In faking which
he had been extremely careful, fur it
would in. a great fiftther In his cap to
display the portrait 'if so notable a per
son a.s a "specimen."
P.iii the peculiar way in which that
picture slowly came out lu the devel
oping "bath" made him w onder greatly.
No other is-rson had been near by when
the picture was taken, but the shadows
seemed those of a man Instead of if
woman. As the di-tnils nitpenred It be
came evident that he bad used, by mis
take, the platcholder containing a plate
for w hich Frank Wilsey had "set."
Well, never mind; he would finish it,
and then pose Miss Trait again, on the
Idea that the pi ale was bad. But how
oddly Frank's vest showcl on the plate!
Chip could not understand it.
'hip finally washed and "fixed" the
plale, ret It nVide to dry and posisl Miss
Trait once more The lady wished to
develop If herself, of which Chip was
very glad, for he wanted to print (hat
picture of Frank, and find out what
was the matter wlih It. He sism found
out, for a print, taken quickly In the
sunlight, showed that (lie matter with
Frank's vest was fhat It was entirely
covered by a face "an pretty (is a pic
ture" of Miss Trait! He had acciden
tally taken her picture on a plate which
had already been used once, alHiough
not developed, and the offset was a
print which well. It looked as If Miss
Trait had given her confidence and her
her heart to Frank Wilsey and was
rting her head on his breast.
Chip thought the picture very dread
ful, that Is, It might be, if his new pupil
chanced to see It-so he made haste to
hide the print, and also to put the print
ing frame and plate out of sight Rut
Isn't It astonishing how things will per
sist In working Just as tbey shouldn't,
In uplte of all you may do to prevent?
Miss Trait developed and dried ber
plate, and looked at It aldewlse, as
Chip had taught her to do, and ahe
greatly liked th ipresalon, and was
wild to tak a print from th plat at
once. Chip tried to empty the print!
frame-hi culy .ne-wiibal b.-inT
seen, but Mis- Trait's eye bd Dot beea
trained in a b! city for nothing. It waa
quite plain to her that her youthful
teacher wa trying to hhle the pl-
which he took from the frame, so
said: . HI
"Let me we that plate, plea.
"If. a si.:led one," said Chip, throw
ing the plate upon the fl-r. I I t
that time he never had drorqwd a pl-f,
no matter how lightly. wlrhut bearing
the fs.und of breaking glass, but the
dreadful plateof Frank Wllwy and Mb
Trait fell solidly as if it bad been a
stove lid.
Chip stooped to get It. but Mi Trait
was too quick for him; she got the plata
ami to.k it to the light, saying:
"What is it?"
"It's an awful b'.under-thaf s what
It is." replied Chip, In desperation. "I
stupidly used a plate on which another
picture had been taken, but not de
veloped." "How fnnnyr said Miss Trait Tbea
the lady Insisted upon making a print
from it. and Chip thought seriously of
running away and never coming back
to town again not, at least, until tba
Traits had diarted. He got ready t
run. and then from a comer of lb
house observed hia pupil closely.
Miss Trait exposed the picture to tb
light Two minutes later be sow her
shade it with her shoulders and look at
It curiously. Then be heard ber laugh.
Oh, that laugh! It seemed to Chip that
her laugh gave him a new lease of life,
for It was a merry laugh, and one of
the long kind that seemed as if It didn't
know how to stop. Chip thought it
safe to go lwck to his room. Miss Tra.lt
Joined hlin within a few minutes, and
said, in a matter-of-fact way:
"Now I know how spirit photograph
may le taken. I'll have a lot of fua
with fheni when I go back home."
Chip was so grateful that he felt Ilk
falling at Miss Trait's feet, but b
didn't do It: neither did he ever see that
plate again, and he could not say that
he was sorry at the loss. Still, being
a tmy, he could not help doing a lot of
wondering.
Miss Trait really se-emed to think tb
photographic mistake a good Joke. How
would Frank Wilsey regard It? Ther
was one way to find out Chip toned
and otherwise completed the slngl
print he had taken from the offending
plate. He bided his time, and one even
ing he showed It to Frank, at the store,
telling him that It was one of the ac
cidents of photography. Frank looked
nt the picture as if he doubted hi owa
eyes, then he blushed and said:
"I'd give all my hopes of life for stick
an accident In earnest."
Stranger still. Just such an accident
finally came of it. The picture set 0i
young people to thinking about each
other a great deal, nnd made them
rather awkward when they met, and
each knew whnt the other was think
ing about, so in the course of time Miss
Trait become Mrs. Wilsey, and Chip, In
'store clothes," such as had nerer be
seen in his native town, gave away tb
bride, for, as the bride herself, said;
"If it hadn't been for that dreadful
photograph we mightn't have learned
to think seriously of esch other."
Plttsburg Dispatch.
The Knchantcd Pumpkin.
When your little brother or sister lias
a birthday party and you want a nov
elty as a centerpiece for the tea table,
try the "enchanted pumpkin" and si-e
what fun It will make for the guests.
It ought to be a prb.e pumpkin and a
big one. Scoop out all the inside. That
will do well enough to make pies out
of for grown-up people m days that
are not birthdays. Then stuff if full of
toys tied up In mysterious-looking bun
dles. To each package tie a bright ribbon,
letting the bsise ends fall nut over the
sides of the pumpkin. Then carefully
replace the cap or stem part, which you
cut off, so that it will look as If it were
still whole, and place It on your tea
table. Surrounded by ferns and color
ed autumn leaves anil ibi-oratiil u'llh
(be drooping ends of the ribbons, it
will niiike a very pretty centerpiece.
When the fenst Is over set the chil
dren to guessing huw iimiiy seeds are In
the pumpkin. When all have guessed,
toll each to take hold of on,. ,,f t, ri),.
buns, nnd when you say "Threcl" they
must pull on tiie ribbons, and in
way they will see how many seeds are
in the pumpkin.
Of course ctich little guest secures a
pretty glff.-ciilcago TI mes Herald.
Her Independence Threatened.
A republic that was fourteen cen
turies oh when General Washington
and his army were lighliiig the forces
of King George 111.. Including the faired
Hessian coiiilngeiit. is In danger of los
ing independence-the blessing which
our colonial ancestors achieve jn (na(
memorable struggle. The wee common
wealth of San Marino, on the east side
of (he Apenulne mountains. In I Inly,
by long islds the oldest of all existing
republics, is threatened with fhf t-.
rcim-dlnl disaster. One of the rim.
visions of the treaty under which
Italy guaranteed the liberty of Han
Marino Is to the effect tlftt the re,
public shall coin no money, but adopt
the coinage of Italy. But Italian money
got to be very scarce In Hnn Marino,
and the little commonwealth, on
(he plea of absolute necessity
minted a limited number of golA
and silver nlwi for the II tin t.9 4.
----- irt UJ
jieople. I hht did not disturb the parity.
inn ii iinciiueii me treaty, and Hlgnor
Crlspl, the Italian prime minister
reeded to annul the gauranty of Inde-
peiniciice. jnis means the merging of
Han Marino Into (he kingdom of Italy.
As the republic Is too weak for tnirciaa'
ful resistance, she will probably yield
to this harsh decree of rruel fate
Washing(on Post
"Men'll do anything for money aakl
Plodding rete. -Yea," replied 'liaau
derlng Mlk. "Room Mlera ll B
work fur lt"-Wabtngton Stat,