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About Harrison press-journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1899-1905 | View Entire Issue (May 29, 1902)
had a little lamb, pH mint-sauce on the aide: When Mary aw the meat trust's bill It shocked her so she cried. Mary had a little veal A cutlet, nicely broiled. , Her papa, to pay for that veal. All morning sorely tolled. Mary had a little steak A porterhouse, quite small, And when the ball came In she slgbed "No dress for mo next fall." Mary had a little ronst As Juicy as could be ' . ' , And Mary's papa dimply went , ' J . - Right Into bankruptcy. , ) n j Mnry Isn't eating meat; . f ', ' She has a betti-r pli-j.; j She vows it's lady-like to bo A vegetarian. Xeablt, In the Baltimore Amercan. Out of a Drunkard's Violin. 'BY CHARLES EUGENE BANKS. (Copyright, 1901, by Authors' Syndicate.) JOE Osborn sat near the door of the dingy coach of a way freight that ran on a "braDch" through a sec tion of a western state botween the county seat and a city on the main line. He was a small, delcate looking lad of 16,, but with a pair of big brown eyes that were worth going miles to Apparently the boy was alone in the car, and drawing from a green balxe bag he carried a worn and battered violin, he tuned the Instrument over and over, stopping now and then to pluck softly at the strings with his thumb. Then he took up the bow and began to play. iLwas rather sad work he made of the 613 country dance tune, for Joe was not a master of the Instru ment, and the notes came lamely under hta awkward Angers. But his eyes shone blighter with the effort, and the bow was soon going rapidly over the strings In time to his beating foot, while he bent to bis task oblivious to his surroundings. A man who bad: been dozing In a seat at the other end of the car sat up sud denly, shook himself, beat nervously on the back of the seat, and then turned and looked Sharply at the boy. Whenever the player struck a false note, which he did frequently enough, the man shivered from bead to foot, and screwed' up his face as though he were being rubbed with nettles. At last he got up and paced back and forth along the Isle, restraining him self with apparent effort Finally, he strode down the Isle until he stood directly over the boy, his eyes flashing and his cheeks puffed with anger. "Give me the feedle. Quick, or I shall go mad," he cried. The boy looked up, and, frightened at the vehemence of the stranger, meekly handed up the Instrument the man took It, threw It hurriedly to his chin, and struck the bow with a flour ish across the string. Back and forth with lightning speed swept the bow, up and down the neck of the violin slid and wound and beat the long, slen der fingers till the car was filled with a million silvery notes that wero like dew drops In trembling harmony. The boy sat open-mouthed, hushed with wonderment, worshiping what he could not understand but what his soul recognized as sublime. At last the music ceased and the man, now quiet and smiling, returned the Instrument to the owner, and with many friendly nods and winks pre pared to leave the car. And on the small hand bag he carried Joe spelled out the word "Remenyl." That night Joe sat In the window of his room under the rafters of the old farmhouse bugging to his heart the violin that he knew held a world of glorious music, praying for the time when he should have the magic to call It forth. When that time should come how proud she would be of him; she, the black-eyed, rosy-cheeked farmer's daughter, whose every word he cher ished', whose every glance to him was like a burst of sunlight out of Heav en. And now began soch devoted prac tice that the family rebelled, and Farm er Holmes was finally forced to forbid Joe to "scrape that tarnation fiddle" In the house. So the boy went forth into the fields, where, hour after hour, he wandered slowly about trying in vain to wake the music that he knew was hidden In the little shell, to coax it to come forth and transform the world. i r Mary Holmes came noon him one day while be was striking madly at the strings In a vain search for those elusive chords, and Bhe laughed out-' right at what she called his foolish ness. This was more than Joe could stand, and he cried out, pitifully: "You don't know you didn't hear that man Remenyl as I did, or you would understand." The girl caught her head in her plump brown arms and looked at Joe In a way that sent the hot blood Into his cheeks. He stood for a moment Irresolute, and then, snatching up his Instrument, hur ried away through the grove. "Joe! Joe!" She called with a sud den pain at her heart. "Come back, Joe, I didn't mean to hurt you." Ho turned at the spring brook, a wistful look In his big brown eyes. "I'll never come back till I've learned how to make the music that is here. He touched the violin gently. "You won't laugh at me then, maybe; you won't think It foolishness. Oood-by." He ran lightly over the stepping stones of tho brook and disappeared In the shadows. It was the festival of the Harvest Home, and all the country people for miles around had gathered to celebrate It During the day there had been a barbecue and the people feasted. This was followed by games In which the young man were pitted against each other In trials of strength, fioetness and dexterity, The moon was now up, and the dance which was to close the men and maidens stood about In little groups Impatient for the appearance of BUI Sraft, the country fiddler, whose rythmatlc milodle bad set to going the fofet of the people for two genera tions.' At last his old gray horse was seen coming slowly down the lane. r "Here comes the music; better be glttln' your gala!" roared tho black smith, with a rolce like his own bel lows. The horse turned from the beaten highway and cam up the winding road toward the Wurap of trees wherein the company waa astern' led. It waa now seen that the rider was more bent than usual, that, In foot, be was all but ly ing on the neck of his horse and sway ing from side to side, seeming every moment in danger of falling to the ground. "Drunk agin," growled the black smith. "Never knowed him to keep from liquor mo'n three weeks to a time. He's been sober now since bay in', and we might hev expected It" "Look out there!" cried Farmer Holmes, starting suddenly forward, "He's going to fall." Before anyone could reach hlra, and despite the efforts of the old horse to keep Its rider balanced. Bill plunged headlong to the ground and lay pros trate, holding his precious fiddle like an Infant In his arms. The old horse stood like a statue, as he had often stood for hours, waiting the awakening of his master from a drunken sleep. "It: just horrid, that's what It Is!" cried a tall, blue-eyed girl with hay colored hair and a pinched crabapple face. "Why couldn't he wait till to morrow to get drunk. Now our fun Is spoiled because of bis miserable selfish ness." "I don't believe he can help It," re plied Mary Holmes, with some warmth. "Mother says she read somewhere that men like him were not to be blamed for drinking. It's In their blood, and un less they can be cured thejr will go on that way to the end." "Well, then, the end ought to come mighty sudden," Interrupted a third. "But that Is all stuff and nonsense. Ho likes whisky. That's all there Is of It. He ought to go drownd himself. I would before I'd come to a place like this in such a condition." "And we depending on him for a whole evenln's pleasure, too," chimed in a fourth. "Hello, who's that talking to father?" cried a young farmer peering out Into the moonlight Looks like a city chap. Guess I'll go and ask him if be can't play the fiddle for us." "I would, Mr. 8marty!" sneered the girl with the hay-colored hair. "HI, there, boys!" roared the black smith, as If In response to the young man's suggestion. "Git your partners an' form on. Here's a feller as has agreed to play till Bill wakes up. Tune her up, stranger. I'll dew the callln' myself." He brought the Instrument from the sleeping man and gave It Into the hands of the stranger. The young man touch ed the strings while the couples hasti ly formed for the dance. Then the first bars of a familiar tune floated out upon the night air. What music to dance by! One after another came the airs that old BUI had made famllar. but there was a new quality In them, new to those simple people, a quality that somehow lifted them up and softened and refined them. Before the first set was done a burly farmer had brought a cushion and put It under Bill's head. A few more bars and be, took off his coat and put It awkwardly over the sleeping man. The caller lowered his voice, and the dancers moved with a grace and lightness foreign to them. Had ever such music been heard be fore? Sure this man held an enchanted bow. Between the dances, while the people were resting, the young man stepped out Into the moonlight, and, striking bis bow across the strings, began a wild Hungarian rhapsody. The music came In a flood that swept over the crowd, frightening them with Its vehemence, Its sublimity. A hundred voices seemed crying out in passionate appeal. Har mony crowded harmony until the grove was a continued echo of wlerd, sobbing sounds. They ceased, and there came, as from afar, the tender strains of "Home, Sweet Home." The people stood with flushed cheeks, breathless, lest they should miss the tremor of one divine note. Then the musician laid the violin aside, and, making his way to Mary Holmes, said, softly: "Do you still think it foolishness?" "Oh, Joe!" she cried, turning to look tip Into his face with eyes that shone like stars. "It has been all for you, Mary. Tell me, have I worked In vain?" For answer, she put out both her hands. He caught them In his own and drew her gently into the shadow. ' AMUSING EXCUSES FAB PTJTILS. Jose Kicked by a Cow and Henry Is Treated to a Funeral Trip. Evening Wisconsin: Teachers who require written excuses for tardiness from parents of pupils sometimes re ceive very amusing notes. Here are a few specimens from a number received some time ago: "Dear Sir, please ex cuse James for lateness. I kneaded him after breakfast." A second note reads: "Please forgive Billy for being tardy. I was mending his coat" The third ex cuse goes more Into details: "Mister sir, my Jason had to be late today. It Is his blzness to milk our cow. She licked Jase In the back today when he wasn't looking or thinking of her actln'; so be thot his bock was broke, but It ain't But It Is black and blue, and the pane kept him late. We would git rid of that cow if we could. This the fourth time she kicked Jaso, but never kicked hlra late before. So ex cuse him for me." A girl absent for half a day brought the following excuse: "Miss teecher My dotter's absents yesterday was una voidable. Her shoes had to be half solod, and she had a sore-throto. Her konstltushun Is dellklt, and If she is ab sent any more you can knew that It Is on account of unabodabel sickness or something else." A boy absent for bait a day laid the following explanation on his master's desk: "Dear sir, please ex cuse Henry. Ho went to grandpapa's funeral with me this forenoon. I have been promising hlra for sevoral weeks that be might if be was good, and he baa been very good, so I kept my word." Her Foreign Purchase. New York Times: To ft resident of Long Island a lesson was given last week, in the growing mercantile Impor tance of the United States, much to her own discomfiture and greatly to the amusement of her family and friends. Returning from a European trip, she proudly displayed to her daughter a dozen arm shields she had bought In Dublin. "Look t the serviceable article they turn out over there' sho exclaimed. Her daughter exnmlned the shields closely and then laughing heartily, pointed to the trademark of a manufac turing company, Just four blocks dis tant from the house where bar mother had lived for 30 years, SOX, SMITH BTJS8ELL. The curtain's down! Farewell, old friend; The orchestra's last strain are dying; The long engagement's t an end. And they that lately smiled are etching. Upon the board another bill Is posted o'er your name; the flowers They wore Who laughed are withered still The pleasing memory Is ours. We may not call you back to bow Rcfponslve to our approbation. And we that roUs your smile must now lie listed as "The Poor Relation." The properties are put away That served you as you sang of "Sally" Ah. may you have gone on to play Forever In some "Peaceful Valley." S. E. KIBER, In the Record-Herald. The Devil's Demise. BY SNOWDEN KING. (Copyright, 1301, by Authors' Syndicate.) TWO hours ago Otis Macmanara had received the disappointment of his life a woman's "no!" He had been tramping the streets of Louisville ever since, smoking a num ber of cigars and wondering what he should do with the rest of his life. Common sense kept whispering that Grace Langdon was not the only woman In the world, and that he, Macmanara, was young, handsome, and wealthy, but his heart was beating to another tune, and be knew it would keep to that same tune until life was put away. As the gas and electric lights began their rivalry, common sense gained the supremacy so far as to cause The young man to buy a book and tell himself he would go home and try to read It He bad Just come out of a book store and was turning the storm collar of his coat up against the driving snow, when a voice very low and very clear, and also very close said : "It Is warm In my home." "Did yon speak to me?" Macmanara asked of a gray shadow leaning against a Imp-post "I said It Is warm In my home." Macmanara laughed. "There Is noth ing so very novel in that fact, my good fellow; there are millions of homes to night as warm as the tropics, In spite of the weather outside my own, for In stance, to which I am going now." "Are you going?" It was not the question only; the voice held a soft, en chanting cadence that fascinated Mac manara. "Well, yes, I am sure I shall start for homo as soon as my car turns the cor ner." "A nit I am as equally certain you will go with me." "Since you are so sure of It will yrw tell me the name of my would-be host?" and Macmanara listened somewhat eagerly for the answer which came without hesitation. "I am the Devil." "This Is interesting. I have had nu merous Indirect Invitations to visit you, Mr. Devil, and a number of my friends have predicted that my final resting would be with you, but I never expected you to step up In the flesh and Invite me, and' the fact Is, I never In all my life felt so much like going to you as I do tonight" At that moment a carriage stopped outside the curbing, and the coachman came down to examine the harness. The carriage door opened and one of the occupants asked the cause of the delay. Macmanara caught sight of the face that hnd caused both his Joy nd his sorrow. When the carriage moved, a delicate lace handkerchief gleamed white beneath the gas light Only an Instant it lay there the next It was re posing In Macmanara's coat pocket The name daintily written In one cor ner of the handkerchief was "Grade." "Good night Mr. Devil I really must be going. If you will take my advice you will go back to that very warm home of yours and stay there until spring, for, as one who knows his world, I can tell you the weather here .Is going to be very much worse before long." The gray shadow stepped out Into the ful glare of the flickering light, reveal ing a handsome young man dressed in a stylish Hult of gray. "I am disappointed," and Macmanara whistled. "Why, you are a young man and I thought the Devil was as old as the world. A young man with a blond mustache and no horns! If you want to masquerade as the Devil why don't you make up for the part?" The self-confessed Devil doffed his hat. "Feel." be said. In striking contrast to a fair, almost womanish complexion and a blond mustache, his hair was black as night Macmanara's bands glided slowly over the bowed head In search of the horns. They were there, and a thrill crept down Mncmanara's spine as he touched them. He had Jested with the man, be lieving hlra to be a crank, but now, for some reason, he did not understand, he was startled. "You are convinced, and will go with me?" Always soft and low, yet very ciear, the Devil's voice was a melody. Macmanara looked up. A pair of clear bluo eyes, behind which there seemed to burn a flame eyes unlike any be had ever seen before, looked straight Into his own. The Devil had possession of his man in a moment, but even with bis sense enthralled Mac manara shuddered as he asked: "I must die first?" "No," the Devil answered, emphati cally, "I want you to go with me and see and feel the beauty, comfort and happiness In my home and then come back to the world In the flesh .and tell how basely I have been maligned." While the Devil was speaking they were moving straight toward: the river, and when they reached It he unlocked a skiff and Invited his guest to step In. As the boat went scudding down the river Macmanara wondered where the Devil had learned his stroke. The Falls City quickly faded from view a mere speck In the distance. Macmanara had taken many a row on the Ohio, both as boy and man, but never any like this. An hour ago he was the most miserable man on earth, now he was perfectly happy; there was nothing left for him to wish for. The boat was drifting now, and at a place where the rocks sholved over the bank It stopped suddenly. The Devil whistled, waited a moment, then whis tled three times In rapid succession. It semed to Macmanara that tho whole side of the cliff opened to them and gave forth a light so dassllng In its brightness that he had to close his eyes. The Devil picked him up and carried him Into a richly furnished room and put hlra down on a couch pllett with cushions. There wero ribbons, laces, noting and silks. In chairs, on tables, everywhere In elegant profusion and confusion, but what Impressed' Mac-' manara most and what he could hardly take his eyes from was a table In the center of tie room on which was piled, as generously as pebbles on tho beach, ' every known gem. Diamonds, rubles, opals and pearls threw a shade over their smaller sisters and tried hard to outshine each other in their fascinating glow and glitter. "My angels are cut tonight on other missions, but I Bhall do my best to en tertain you, and shall be more sorry than I can say If I fail," and the Devil bowed courteously to his guest. While he was speaking he placed a diamond scarfpln and opal ring on the table. They immediately began to sparkle a challenge to their neighbors. What a familiar look they had to Mac manars! The Dsvil drew a chair close to the couch, picked up a guitar, and the last thing Macmanara remembered was hearing a rich tenor voice singing a popular melody. The next morning when Macmanara awoke he waa in his own room. The fire In the grate was burning cheerily, and through the open door he could see his valet preparing his bath. Out side the sun was shining brightly, tak ing away the snow as fast as It had fallen the night before. "What a dream!" Macmanara thought, as he sprang out of bed. His clothes were hanging on the back of a chair, and there were tiny rivulets where they had dripped the melted snow. He went through his pockets and his face fell. Yesterday he had drawn $2,000 from the bank, vowing in his heart to go as far from Louisville as the money would take him. This morning there was not a dollar in his pocket not even the little pearl-handled knife he had carried for years. When he went down to breakfast his aunt, who was also his housekeeper, looked beyond him after saying good morning, evidently expecting to greet some one else. "How mistaken one can be, Otis," she said. "I expected you to bring com pany down to breakfast this morning, for when I heard you come home last night I was sure some one was with you." "Maybe there was, and maybe there wasn't What would you say, aunt, if I were to tell you I don't know?" "If you were anyone else but Otis Macmanara I would say you were dTunk, but as you are Otis I shall say you are poking fun at your old aunt" When the papers were brought in Macmanara glanced over the headlines of the Courier-Journal, as was his cus tom, and the following fastened his eyes: "AT THE MORGUE." Found drowned In the river at 2 o'clock this morning, the body of a young man of medium size, fair complexion and a blondo mustache. A lace handkerchief marked "Oracle" was all that was found In the dead man's pockets. "That's the Devil!" and with the ex clamation Macmanara rushed for his hat and overcoat, leaving his startled aunt to think he had gone insane. "Yes," the morguo keeper replied to Macmanara's eager questions, "the poor fellow was brought here at an early hour this morning. This handkerchief was the only thing about him that may lead to his identity, and that has only one chance in a thousand. If his sweet heart reads the morning paperB and of course the handkerchief is his sweet heart's she will i be here In a short while, and, If she doesn't read them, he may go to hla grave unnamed." Macmanara examined the features of the dead man closely. It was his Devil of the night before, minus the black hair, in place of which there was a closely-cropped blond head. As Mac manara was leaving the morgue he al most ran over Grace Langdon, who caught his arm and cried out: "Oh, Otis, It Is really you, and you are not drowned, with my handkerchief in your pocket? I was going to the opera," the little lady explained, "and something got wrong with the horses as we were leaving Chestnut street, and the coachman stopped to see what it was. My escort opened the carriage door for the same purpose, when I saw you and dropped my handkerchief to see If you would pick It up, and the way you pounced upon It kept me nappy for the rest of the evening. I lost my opal ring, too, but I don't care, for It was al ways bringing me bad luck." Macmanara thought of the ring as he had last seen it flash by the aide of his scarfpln on a table with thousands of other Jewels, but he did not tell hla wife-to-be of his adventure with the Devil. He asked instead: "Grade, why Is It a woman will tell a man no, make him feel all the misery of hades, when In her heart she means yes?" "I don't know, Otis, unless It Is to make him understand how much he cares and give him the pjoasure of pro posing over again," she answered, happily. x Jarring His Memory. Duluth News-Tribune: A married lady living out at Lakeside has been having the greatest difficulty of late In Inducing her husband to remember to order certain things for the household while down town. Every day there was something forgotten and the meals were growing more scanty as a result. A few days ago she handed' her hus band a letter as he made a run for his ay. saying that It was not to opened until the afternoon. He remembered It Just as he finished his luncheon that day and opening It he read: "I am forced to tell you something that I know will trouble you, but have thought of It for some time. I feel that It Is my duty to do so. My mother has been taken Into the secret and she, too, John, declares that it Is best that you ahould know. I cannot keep this to my self any longer." Hubbie's face grew ashen and his hair was taking an upright position when he turned over the page and read: "Wo have not a pound of butter In the house. Send me some this after noon." The request was complied with. The mineral products of Canada dur ing tho year 1901, according to the pre liminary statement of the geological survey, was valued at $69,407,0111, of which $12,834,000 was metallic and $26, 282,000 nonmetalllc. The growth Is Japan has given a Frankfurt man an ordor for five tnachlnes for printing and perforating postage stamps. Ex-Captain Putnam Bradlso Strong and Msye Yohe, tho divorced wife of Lord Francis Hope, were passengers on the steamer Kaiser In Maria Theresea, which arrived Monday from Mediterran ean ports. Their names appeared on the list as Hcrr Strong and Fratt Strong. TIME A FXENTT. Lots of time and lots of things. Though It's said that Time has wings, There Is always time to find Ways of being sweet and kind; There is always time to share Smiles and goodness everywhere; Time to send the frowns away, Time a gentle word to pay, Time for helpfulness, and time To assist the weak to climb; Tluut to gtve a little flower. Time for friendship any hour; But there is no time to spare For uokindneaa anywhere. Frank Walcott Hutt fl Stirpltis Maggie BY CAROLYN WELLS. (Copyright, 1901, by Authors' Syndicate.) "A mlllon surplus Maggies Are willing to bear the yoke." RUDYARD KIPLIKO. KATHARINE PALMER was a tact ful young woman, and conse quently often deceived her friends and acquaintances, but she never deceived herself. And so when it occurred to her that she was in love with Tom Radcllffe, she frankly admitted it to her calm and well-regulated heart. And then- a strange thing happened. This" heart, which for many years had been tract able and mild, suddenly rose in rebel lion, and refused to bjat evenly and quietly as of yore. Instead of this, it fluttered like a giddy young thing at the most casual mention of Radellffe's name, and In his actual presence it throbbed with Joy or became heavy with woe, according to the young man's de meanor. Katherlne observed all this, and with her usual ready acceptance of a situa tion, began to consider what could be done about It Her mind was a little hampered by the fact that her heart would persist in Its rlotlngs, and would interrupt ber logical trains of thought now with glad memories or anticipations, and again with snatches of song or bits of senti mental verse. But the interruptions were warmly welcomed and thoroughly enjoyed, and Miss Palmer, after due re flection, concluded that her life ro mance had dawned at last, and that neglecting all else if necessary, she must give It her undivided attention. Her philosophic attitude was due en tirely to her methodical and systematic mind, and In no way marred the ro mantic beauty of her love. On the con trary, It strengthened her conviction that no woman had ever been or would ever be eapable of such Intensity of loving as herself. She thought compassionately of the shallow affections of her butterfly ac quaintances, and knew that as her men tality was on a superior plane so her powers of intelligent loving were pro portionately greater. She even thought patronizingly of historic lovers, sniff ing at Cleopatra's attachment to An thony, and pitying the puny nove of the Brownings. All her life she had been absolutely heartwholo, never taking more than a passing Interest In any man; and now, without provocation and without rea son, in true orthodox fashion, she bad flung all her great store of love at the feet of a man apparently no different from all other men. Of course he seemed different to her. Idealized and glorified, everything he said or did seemed the highest perfec tion of human speech or action. And when it occurred to her that, so far as she knew, her love was unre quited, the thought gave her no shock. In all probability his heart was as yet unawakened, but that was only a question of time. Her love was of the kind that only occurs once In a thousand years, and when it dawned upon him in all Its glory his heart would respond exulting ly and with an equal passion. Not that Katherlne Palmer had any intention of flnglng herself at Tom Radellffe's head. That would not be re quired. A love such as she felt for him would exert Its Irresistible but subtle influence without any effort on her part And so the world was transformed for her. A new dignity and sweetness might be seen In her manner, and her soul was filled with a great and un speakable happiness, that manifested itself In day dreams and night dreams which showed glimpses of an enchanted fairyland. The young man himself seemed to be doing his part He called occasionally. He sent Invitations and flowers with as much frequency as was In keeping with the stage of their acquaintance. Kath erlne had no desire to let his friendship give way to dawning love while she en Joyed to the full each new proof of his Increasing Interest She was certain that love would come at last. For as she knew her own pas sion was unchangeable and everlasting, she felt sure that Radellffe's heart would respond with an affection equally deep and true. And of late he had begun to show an especial desire for her com panionship. He called oftener. He asked her advice on personal matters, and seemed. In a way, to depend on her opinion of him for his opinion of himself. One evening their talk had been of a gossipy nature, and among others they had discussed Alice Bond, a pretty young girl of sprightly manners and a somewhat daring wit Several times after quitting the sub ject, Radcllffe referred again to Alice Bond, until, in a spirit of idle coquetry, Katherlne said, playfully: "I believe you are in love with Alice Bond." "How discerning you are." said Rad cllffe, eagerly. "Do you know, some times I think you're uncanny. You see right through a follow so. And yet you're so sweet and sympathelc, I don't mind your knowing a bit It's a pleas ure to confide In you. Yes, since you've discovered my secret, I confess that I am In love with Alice Bond, and I del ure you'll agree with me that she is really a superior girl. Of course, I know everyone thinks she's a giddy lit tle rattlepate, but you can see, can't you, the noble character that lies be neath all her light-hearted chatter?" "Yes," said Katherlne, bravely, "I think she must have more depth of character than she usually shows." "She has, Indeed. I knew you'd ep preclate her. You have such Insight and Intuition and all those things. But I feel sure she'll never care for mo. I'm so grave and old-fogy. But oh, If she only knew how I love her! And I'd be so patient with her queer little whims and so tolerant of her vagaries. Couldn't you you're so tactful, you know couldn't you just bint this to her? Dont think I'm absurd, but real ly, you know, you're so wonderfully sympathetic and clever, couldn't you Just make her know somehow that though I'm not a brilliant man in a so ciety way, yet I have a big, honest. loyal heart, with a wonderful capacity for loving, and I could make the woman I love very happy. Can't you tell ner that, and don't you think It would at tract her?" "Yes." said Katherlne. "I can tell her that and I do think tt would attract her." "Oh. thank you so much. You always seem to understand so perfectly. Any other woman would have said: "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?' or something like that But you see that it isn't bash fulness on my part only Alice is such a little butterfly girl. I fear my eager love makiiig and I can't seem to tame It -would frighten ner. While your delicate approaches would convince her of my adoration in a way that might make it acceptable to her." "It is a delicate mission," said Katn- erine, "but I will fulfill it to the best of my Judgment and ability; I can tell her very truthfully of your honest, gen erous heart and noble manliness, and I think she will recognize your worth and be quite prepared to receive your ad vances. And I hope she will make you very happy." Radcllffe went away In a glow ot thankfulness toward his kind friend, and Katherlne went upstairs to her room. STYLISH SPRING COSTUMES HANDSOME BECEPTIOH GOWK". The New Long-Shoulder Effect. The waist of this handsome reception gown of bull veiling is made with the fashionable drooping or long-shoulder effect and has a tucked yoke, framed with a scolloped berthe handsomely em broidered with Corticelli silk. The sleeves are tucked, springing out Into large puffs strapped with embroidered bands. The skirt Is tucked in clusters and shows strap garniture in addition to narrow velvet ribbon, which also ap pears on the round yoke. Each week seems to reveal some new feature in the cotton dress fabrics, one of which is grass cloth In white, with a stripe of close weave. Then there are new fine lawns with open work stripes, lawns with narrow lace insertions woven stripe fashion into the material. Most beautiful are the embroidered batistes which come in handsome all over designs as well as In robes, either white or beige color. INCONGBTJOTJS TO BE STJEE. Colored Man With Irish Kama Spoke German Fluently. Washington Star: "I had an amus ing experience, the other day, which convinced me that one cannot always depend upon names and appearances," said a bureau chief in one of the gov ernment deartments. - "Being in need of a new clerk who spoke German. I requested that one be supplied me, stating that I preferred a clerk of German extraction, as the work I had for him to do required c good knowledge of that language. The following day the messenger entered my room and informed me that the new clerk was in the anteroom. "What is his name?" I asked. " 'Patrick Delahanty,' waa the reply. '"Why, I want a German, not an Irishman,' I said. " "Well, eir.' the messenger answered, with a peculiar expression, 'that was the name he gave me.' "I o the messenger to show the new clerk In. Imagine my amaze ment when in walked a man whose color and features were emphatically African. He smiled and waited for me to recover my breath and speech. " 'Is your true name Patrick Delahan ty?' I asked. "'Yes, sir.' " 'But you are colored.' i "There's no doubt about that, 'Sir. " 'And you speak German, with an Irish name in the bargain.?' " Perfectly.' . " 'In what part of the South were you born and raised?' " 'I was not born and raised In the South at all. sir.' " 'Whereabouts? "'In Weehawken, N. J., on the heights opposite New York.' ," 'You are certainly a mixture of In congruities,' I exclaimed; 'please ex po in more fully.' " 'Well, sir,' he said, 'my people were servants for several generations for a Northern family of wealth of Irish ex traction, who lived In Weehawken. where there is a large German popula tion. We took as our own family name, as Is also the custom In the South, that of the family to whom we were attach ed, both by service and regard. Thla explains the Incongruity of a colorod man having such a decidedly Irish pat ronymic as my own. I picked up the German lnngunge while serving with a family of that nationality, and later made it a feature at night school with my English studies.' " "You must have plenty of fun with, yourself,' I suggested. " 'I do, and other people hare a lot of fun with me,' he answered. "I found him to be a flrst-clasi : for my purpose." x (