fc cmm c«ws
an FttMTO® hro PI LMDR
._ Ar CHARLES MORRIS BUTLER.
j9*/fAo/' of “Tie £erenpe of fVeme!' 7^nemefi/ Trap ed(/75*?Jtf/d,
Copyrigrht 1S*05. by Charles Morris Butler.
CHAPTER XXI.
The Attempted Assassination of Lang.
The promptness of Schiller in sent
encing Lang to fight a duel gave Gold
en no opportunity to appeal to the peo
ple to throw safeguards around his
protege. It was Louis’ fate to again
pit himself in mortal combat against
human being—and that too, without
prepare tion.
Louis, in being notified of his sent
ence, realized the pit he had fallen in
to in striking Schilller. He felt that
his life would pay the forfeit of his
folly. Even if he succeeded in killing
his antagonist, which was extremely
doubtful at the best, what was to hin
der Schiller from condemning him to
perform many other feats of skill and
strength — one. of which undoubtedly
could be devised which would silence
him forever?
Before Golden retired for the night,
Schiller managed to have him duly
ordered to make inspection of the out
posts. As Paradise Peter and his sen
tinels had been killed by Lang, he
could not raise objection to being
ordered to strengthen the guards, and
thus was easily got out of the way for
the time-being.
In the morning Rogers paid his cus
tomary visits to the mines to oversee
his regular work, and an order kept
him there until far into the night.
Wilson, being convicted of a crime,
was not his own free agent, so was
unable to assist Lang in any way.
Upon the statute books of paradise
is a rule to the effect that “any person
convicted of a crime and given a pen
alty who does not answer to his name
when the penalty is to be exacted,
lays himself liable to forfeiture of life
without the chance.” It was hoped
by Schiller that Lang being a strang
er, would by some means be delayed
from answering to his charge and thus
forfeit his privilege!
Louis, for the want of proper care
and nourishment, was delirious from
Pearl, knowing, of course, where
Lang had been taken, had no diffi
culty when she set out to find Louis
in finding Rogers’ home. When she
knocked upon the door for admit
tance, she summoned enough courage
to push her way in without waiting
for an answer to the knock. She
found Louis lying upon the floor in a
half conscious condition.
“My poor boy” she said, tenderly
raising up his head and resting It in
her lap. “what ails you?"
Louis did not speak, but he opened
his eyes in a dazed manner as if try
ing to imagine whose face it was he
looked into.
She shook him gently; “Rouse your
self! Don’t you understand the risk
you are running in staying here? If
you do not appear to fight your duel,
you will be torn limb for limb!”
Louis, with an effort, struggled to
his feet. “Why are you here!” he
cried recognizing her.
“I have come to save you!” she
answered.
“Save me from what?” he question
ed in astonishment.
"Don't you know that you are to
fight a duel tonight?"
The momentary unconsciousness
disappeared. “I don't understand.”
he said. "I knew I was to fight for
my life, but did not know that it was
to-night!”
“To-night” she said. “And unless
you appear to carry out your sentence
I am afraid you will be lynched!”
“I realize my position now. I un
derstand why Golden and Rogers
have not been to see me; they have
been spirited away; and unless I
arrive upon the scene in time, 1 for
feit my chance of possibly killing my
antagonist, if I am able! I am in no
fit condition to battle for my life to
night.”
"You are alone—you must fight for
your life alone! The life you risked
for me!” she cried passionately, gaz
Opened his eyes in a dazed manner as if trying to imagine whose face it
was he looked into.
pain in his head, and lay with a fever
in a semi-stupor very nearly the
whole day. In such sentences as his,
the participants, in usual cases, took
pains to show themselves quite fre
quently in the streets to show the
people that they were expecting to
be on hand when called. As Louis did
not appear, rumors were circulated
around to the effect that he had run
away or was keeping himself in hid
ing to escape the ordeal.
Perhaps Louis Lang would never
have mustered up sufficient courage
to face the mob that was clamoring
for his blood, but for the interposition
of Pearl Huntington. Pearl at last
realized the value of the man whom
she was forced to accept as her hus
band. Whether Louis was a criminal
or not ib made little difference to her
—he was a man, and she loved him!
Golden before he rode away on his
mision. explained to Pearl that as the
wife of Lang, she w’ould be expected
to witness the test of strength between
him and Whalen, no matter how try
ing or revolting it might be to her.
She was not notified officially of this
fact, any more than had Lang been
notified that he had been sentenced,
but she knew enough now of arbitrary
law to understand that ignorance or
technicality would not save her or
him. When she came to the conclusion
that she loved Louis for his noble de
votion to her cause (she could think
of no other solution of his actions but
that he in return loved her) the first
thing she wanted to do was to place
herself in some position to encourage
him with her sympathy.
All day logn pearl sat in the parlor
of Goldens home’ waiting patiently
for the appearance of Lang, but he
came not. Up till a late hour she had
no thought that our hero was pros
trated from the effect of his wound,
and was at a loss to understand his
absence. She heard rumors in relation
to the fact that he had run away to
escape fighting his duel but she could
not believe this. In the first place,
to her, it would have been impossible
for him to escape; in the second
place, she did not imagine that Lang
would abandon her—she had that
much confidence in him At last she
could bear the suspense no longer.
She could hear the murmurings of the
mob, the threats of violence, and in
desperation she sought him out. It
was well for Lang that he had one
true friend free to aid him. for if any
one truly needed a friend it was our
hero.
Lang attempted to get up several
times during the day. but the pain in
his head, which brought on a raging
headache made it almost impossible
for him to remain on his feet. He
was in such a condition of mental and
physical pain that he hardly cared
what became of him later, if only he
obtained cesssation from pain tem
orarily. Toward evening he arose,
dressed, and in a manner attempted
to bring his body subject to his mind.
Weak from the loss of blood and fam
ished for drink he sank down noon the
floor exhausted.
| ing with kindness into his eyes.
What made you interfere to save
roe?”
A bandage around his head; a
drink of brandy from a decanter, and
despite his weariness. Louis was part
ly himself again. “Because in you 1
saw purity and innocence being
wronged.” For a moment he forgot
the light he stood in before her. In her
eyes he could be nothing but a hard
ened criminal and people of his sus
pected calibre are not supposed to
have souls like other men.
"You understood the danger you
were running?” she asked.
“Yes. I understood.” he said, “And
I would do the same thing again if
I had the chance! Only I would kill
Schiller the next time!”
“Knowing the danger you run, you
would still risk all to protect me?”
she said insinuatingly.
“Why not,” he asked in surprise.
“I did not expect to find a—a—a
friend like you in such a place as
this!” she said.
"Miss Huntington, said Louis, glanc
ing at the clock. “I appreciate what
, you have done for me. I understand
t my position. I have one chance in a
thousand of ever leaving Paradise
even if I escape to-night. If you did
not consider me beneath you I might
make myself contented here if I win
the day! I Vould not care how the
battle went if I felt that after I was
gone you would have a protector.
But, fear not; I must. I will win!”
“What can I say or do to cheer you
tip? How can I ever reward you for
your kindness to me?”
“I am rewarded sufficiently.” he
said, “knowing that you appreciate
me, and do not attribute my actions
to any unworthy motive.”
“I consider you an honorable man.”
she explained, “and if—” hesitating
ly,
“And if I were not a criminal, a des
perate scoundrel, you could—”
“I could learn to love you!” smiling
through tears which unbidden stole to
her eyes.
Louis looked at her in amazement.
I “Are you positive that you do not love
me as it is?" he asked, grasping her
hand in his own.
“Perhaps I do,” she said without
hesitation, “but it would make me
feel far happier to know that I had
not thrown my love away where grati
tude alone would be sufficient!”
Louis drew her unresistingly to him
and kissed her. “Trust me," he said.
“I can see you have guessed the truth.
With your love to strengthen me I
can carry the day.”
Louis glanced at the clock. It
lacked only a few minutes of the time
when he should appear to fight his
duel.
“It is time for action!” he cried,
“I must go!”
“I will go with you!” she exclaimed.
• • *
At precisely eight o’clock, King
Schiller rose from his throne, or in
the box commanding the view of the
pit in the amphitheater, and after
I
bowing to the populace seated around
him. said:
“Bring up the combatants!”
Larego, the Italian, the keeper of
the beasts, stepped into the ring
through an entrance from the rear,
and behind him stalked the massive
being Whalen, whom Louis w'as to j
fight. There was a murmer of ad
miration at his appearance, followed
by hisses when it was discovered that
Lang was not in the company.
“Where is this Lang?” demanded
Schiller, as if surprised.
There was a commotion at the main
entrance! In stalked our hero, hat
less, and spotted with blood! He was
supporting his wife upon his arm.
“I«am here!” he cried.
* • *
Before recording what came next in
our hero’s life we may as well ex
plain a few of Schiller's actions. It
was that honorable and most august
person’s intention to have Louis
killed or maimed before he reached
“the hall of justice."
Schiller was playing a desperate
game. He knew that he was not
loved by his subjects. He had more
than his throne at stake—his very life
—and a fortune. His game was to
dispose of Lang and to regain Pearl.
By threats of torture he expected to
compel Dr. Huntington to acknowl
edge himself heir of “Chesterlee
Estate”—of which Huntington through
strange fortune now was the only de
scendent. By marriage with Pearl,
as the only child. Schiller meant to
become possessor of the immense for
tune. This could only be done by dis
posing of Louis and remaining in a
position to subdue the doctor.
Not once had the thought entered
Louis’ mind of escaping. The hoot
ing of the mob, which roused him to
action, partially prepared him for the
worst. Ere he left the house he
armed himself with his trusty billy.
It was well he did so. He had not
taken a dozen steps from the house
when some one whirled his wife from
his arm, while a second form made a
murderous strike at him with a club!
But Louis was not asleep. He hit
one away, then another, and before
his assailants had accomplished their
purpose he laid both bleeding at his
feet!
Even at its best, our hero was al
most too late. The clock had ceased
vibrating after striking the fatal hour
of eight. It was only by the greatest
difficulty that he arrived at the door
of the amphiteater just as Schiller
put the question, “Where is this
Lang?”
“I am here!” cried our hero: and
while the vast crowd rose up to catch
a glimpse of the daring man, as if he
had been in the building a thousand
times he marched his trembling wife
down the long aisle and seated her in
the box assigned for the councilmen.
and with a leap sprang over the wall
of the pit into the arena.
(To be continued.)
MEETS HIS BROTHER BILL.
Skipper Gifted With an Amazingly
Keen Sight in a Fog.
“Some years ago I was ordered to
take a long rest,” said a man. “I jour
neyed as far east as New Brunswick
in search of a good place, and being
in St. John when an old fisherman
friend of mine was getting ready to
make a voyage to New York, I took*
sudden notion to go with him.
“The weather was bad all the way
and when we entered the sound you
couldn’t see the companionway from
the wheel. I never saw such a fog.
I w'as on deck with the old man when
we entered the sound. He w’as stand
ing by the wheel. Suddenly I saw him
lean over and bawl:
“‘Sloop a-hoo-oo-oy!”
“I didn’t hear a thing to indicate
the proximity of a sloop or anything
else, but those old fishermen from the
provinces have a faculty of seeing
things in any kind of weather.
“The old man gave his attention to
the wheel and presently I heard a
faint cry off in the fog.
“‘Schooner a-hoo-oo-oy!’
“The old man straightened up and
bawled:
“ ‘Is tha-at the Lucy Ann?’
“Again the silence for a moment,
and then faint and weak, came the
answer:
“ ‘Aye, aye! Is that th’ Mandy
Jane?’
“‘Aye, aye!’ bawled our skipper,
and he twirled the wheel. He never
looked my way and for a time I
thought him unconscious of my pres
ence. After fifteen minutes of silence
he suddenly turned with an emphatic
nod of his head toward that section of
the fog from which the answering hail
had come and said:
“ ‘That was me brother Bill. I ain’t
seen him before for a year.* Then he
went on with his steering as if noth
ing had happened.”—Washington Star.
CHEAPER THAN THE SUNLIGHT.
Remarkable Argument Put Forward
at Town Meeting.
At a town meeting held in Arlington
some twenty-five years ago the late
W. W. Rawson, father of the well
known market gardener, made a re
mark which the older inhabitants of
the town will remember. Among the
matters brought up at the meeting
was the question whether to use gas
or kerosene to light the town. The
town had put in a few oil lamps with
large reflectors as an experiment.
One of these lights was put in front
of Mr. Rawson s house, in which he
took a just pride.
Wilson W. Fay of the “Heights”
made a quiet speech in favor of gas.
He thought that care and qleaning
would make oil cost more in the end.
Mr. Rawson, always ready for an ar
gument. and with visions of losing his
fine oil lamp, arose and said: “Mr.
Moderator, kerosene is cheaper now
than ever was known and the town is
better lighted than I ever knew it to
be, and as regards the cost of gas and
kerosene, why, Mr. Moderator, kero
sene at 7c a gallon, the present mar
ket price, is cheaper than sunlight.”
Tally One for the Woman.
Him—“What a happy world this
would be if men were kept in thei*
proper places and women were kept
in theirs.”
Her—“Yes. I suppose so; but It
would be rough on the women.”
Him—“Why do you think so?”
Her—“Because they would all be
guarding the jails.”
Forty Pies & Minute Baked by Machine—
Over Fifty-six Hundred Turned Out in a Day
Fifty thousand six hundred pies in
each twenty-four hours, or forty every
minute, is the astounding record of a
Pittsburg baker. The feat is accom
plished with the aid of a machine. It
will be advantageous to both the man
ufacturer and the consumer—to the
former because it will lessen the num
ber of operatives and the expenses of
(♦inducting the business, and to the
latter because the pies can be bought
far blow their cost at the present day.
Another claim is that cleanliness is
assumed in the manufacture and that
the product is as wholesome as the
best "that mother used to make.”
Two machines are used by Mr. Lou
is. the inventor, in his process. In the
part of their course they pass between
two sets of burners, which take the
place of the oven.
As the moulds pass upward they are
opened automatically by a small lever
at one end of the machine to’ permit
the pie dough to enter, after which
they are closed automatically by
another lever to allow the dough to
bake and form the crust. This opera
tion is but the work of a second, as
the irons are heated to the proper
temperature before the dough is per
mitted to enter the moulds.
The dough itself is contained in a
large tank above the machine. A
feed pipe runs down and by means of
a piston which is connected with the
The Machine by Which the Pies are Filled and Receive a Top Dressing of
Meringue.
first the crust is formed and baked
and in the second the filling is put in
and covered by a tempting layer of
meringue. The first machine is the
more interesting of the two. Instead
of pie tins molds like waffle irons are
used to form the crust. They are
firmly attached to an endless chain
stretched out horizontally the full
length of the machine. In the lower
machinery that operates the whole
affair enough dough is forced down
the pipe with each stroke of the piston
to fill one of the moulds as it passes
under the pipe. By the time another
mould passes under the pipe another
stroke of the piston forces down
enough dough to fill that mould, and
so on.
As the crust is baked an attendant
stands at one end of the machine
ready to remove it from the mould.
This worker arranges the baked crusts
on a large pan within easy reach of
another attendant, who feeds them to
the second machine. This machine is
somewhat similar to the first, as it
also has an endless chain to keep the
crusts in motion. It has two large
reservoirs, one containing the filling
and the other the meringue. By a
ratchet arrangement enough of the
filling and meringue is released from
the tanks as the pie passes under
them successively. When filled they
pass onward under an overhead baker,
which gives the top of the meringue
a rich brown tint. The pie is com
pleted then, and as it passes out from
under the baker it is received by
another attendant and set aside, ready
for sale.
Besides the three attendants men
tioned but three more are required
for the complete operation of the ma
chines. One regulates the speed and
temperatures of the machines and
keeps them in working order; one
makes the dough and feeds it to the
first machine, and the third feeds the
filling and meringue to the second ma
chine. By the methods used at the
present time in large bakeries it would
require about 100 employes to do the
same work.
The inventor is a practical baker
with fifteen years’ experience in many
of the large plants of the country. He
has invented several other devices, all
of which have proved successful. He
got his idea for the pie making ma
chine by watching a street waffle man
at work. Seeing how easily the waf
fles were made. Louis asked himself if
pie dough could not be used just as
well. That night when he went home
he borrowed his wife’s waffle irons
and began his experiments. It ro
quired years of study and labor to
bring the machinery to perfection.
WONDERFULSUN DIAL
MECHANISM SHOWS TIME AT FIF
TEEN PLACES.
Aiming to Reproduce Famous Time
piece at Glamis Castle, Scotland,
Peter Hamilton of Baltimore Has
Far Outdone the Model He Selected.
The romantic and picturesque sun
dial is coming to its own once more.
Dial making is again an industry re
veled in by members of the arts and
crafts cycle, says the Los Angeles
Times.
It was in days when interest in sun
dials was lowest that Peter Hamilton
of Balt; core conceived and executed
the des gn for a dial unlike any other
of which we have any knowledge and
which is now one of the attractions
of the celebrated Druid Hill park in
that city.
This dial, beautiful from an archi
tectural standpoint, is also a mathe
matical wonder, for it registers the
time at fifteen places, each far dis
tant from one another. From its fif
teen faces can be read the hours at
Rio Janeiro, Sitka, Jeddo, Jerusalem.
Fernando Po, Cape Cod, Baltimore,
Pitcairn's island, Honolulu, London.
Cape Town and San Francisco. The
equatorial and polar planes, the latter
with the motto "Sine umbra nihil,”
make up the fifteen faces of this pe
culiar dial.
That he had constructed a wholly
original sun dial of which there is no
duplicate is a fact which surprised
Mr. Hamilton, for he believed while
constructing it that he was repro
ducing in essential points the famous
dial at Glamis castle, in Scotland,
which is undoubtedly the finest in the
world.
There are over eight dials in all
on this famed timepiece, each of its
twenty-four facets having from three
to four dials each. This dial is cer
tainly three centuries old. as it ap
pears in a print of the castle, behind
which it stands, previous to the year
1600. and was named in Earl Patrick's
book of record of a date previous to
1695.
It was from a description of the
Glamis sun dial, which is over twen
ty-one feet high and handsomely
carved that Mr. Hamilton drew the
plans for the dial which now stands
in Druid Hill park. Never having seen
even a photograph of the Glamis dial,
Mr. Hamilton had only verbal descrip
tions to work upon and he concluded
that the many faces of the Glamis dial
must speak the time at various points.
But the Glamis dial tells only Scotland
time. Thus Mr. Hamilton’s work is
not a copy in any sense, but is origi
nal with him.
It was in 1875 that Mr. Hamilton
constructed his unique dial of sand
stone. It stood in his yard for a num
ber of years. In 1892 he presented
it to the city of Baltimore. It was
first placed in one of the smaller parks
and afterward removed to Druid Hill
park, near the Eutaw place entrance.
As time had begun to wear away some
of the inscriptions, the park commis
! sion recently spent $500 to cover the
, surface with bronze plates and en
1 grave them. This has been done un
der Mr. Hamilton’s supervision and
the dial now bids fair to stand for cen
turies. a picturesque monument to its
maker.
Scrap of History.
Here is a story that comes from
the Wenona fire department.
Pat was a recent importation, but
instead of landing a job on th’ foorce
he got an assignment as a teamster.
Unaccustomed to the ways of this
country, he was continually getting
into trouble with his wagoq, owing
principally to the fact that he insisted
upon turnipg to the left instead of the
right.
At last these occurrences became so
numerous that the stable boss in
formed him he would give him just
one more trial.
Pat had been away from the barns,
after this warning, only a short time
when word came that his outfit had
| been badly demolished again and the
report was confirmed later by Pat him
j self.
“Didn't I tell you always to turn
to the right?” asked the boss.
“Well, sor,” said Pat, “I did turn to
the right whin I met the fire engine,
but fwhat good did it do? Right afther
thim was a gang of drunken painters
wid a wagon load of ladders an' they
run right into me. sor!”
Tarkington’s Boomerang.
Booth Tarkington has among his
curios in his New York city apartment
a boomerang. A magazine editor said
i of the odd weapon the other day: ‘1
i do not believe that a native can
handle a boomerang so that it will re
turn to the precise spot it started
from." “I believe it.” said Tarking
ton. “Why, a magazine writer can
do the very same thing with his man
uscript if he incloses a stamped en
velope.”
VITAL STATISTICS OF RUSSIA.
Facts About the Empire of the Czar
Are Interesting.
Final results of the Russian census
of 1897 are still appearing at intervals.
Among the latest figures published by
the statistical department are as fol
lows; The total population of the
Russian empire (excluding Finland)
on May 10, 1897, was 126,586,525. Of
these 87,123,604 were members of the
orthodox church. Old believers and
other sections numbered 2,204,596;
Mohammedans, 13,906,972; Roman
catholics, 11,407,994; Jews, 5.215,805;
Protestants (Lutherans), 3,572,653.
A division of this population on the
basis of classes gives the following re
sults: Hereditary nobles, 1,220,169;
nobles for life, or by virtue of office,
630,119; priests of all Christian de
nominations, 588,947; honorable citi
zens. 342,927; merchants, 281.179: bur
gesses. 13,386,392; peasants, 96,896,648
Cossacks, 2,928,842; foreigners, 8,297,
965.
Illiterates numbered 99,070,436 (79
per cent); literates, 26,569,585. Stu
dents at the universities and other in
stitutions for higher education num
bered 104,321.
Sea Song.
A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
A wind that follows fast
And fills the white and rustling sail
And bends the gallant mast:
And bends the gallant mast, my boys,
While like the eagle free
Away the good ship flies, and leaves
Old England on the lee.
O for a soft and gentle wind!
I heard a fair one cry;
But give to me the shoring breeze
And white waves heaving high;
And white waves heaving high, my lads
The good ship tight and free—
The world of waters is our home.
And merry men are we.
There’s tempest in yon homed moon,
And lightning in yon cloud:
But hark the music, mariners!
The wind is piping loud;
The wind is piping loud, my boys.
The lightning flashes free—
While the hollow oak our palace is.
Our heritage the sea.
—Alexander Cunningham.
General Plays Santa Claus and Lives
*
Slides Down Chimney Into Bou>
doir of French Woman Who
Saves Him from Soldiers Who
Are in Pursuit.
The husband came in and told Us
story. He had held high command In
i the French army, was a man of char
acter and ability, with extraordinary
linguistic acquirements. He had
thrown himself into the outbreak of
the Commune as a soldier, had been
given an important point to defend on
a barricade. The fight was long and
terrible, and when nearly all the de
fenders were killed or wounded, and
the ammunition was exhausted, the
few survivors escaped as best they
could. The “General” managed to get
on to some roofs and to escape down
a chimney into a private apartment.
There he found himself in the bed
room of a lady who was dressing.
“Sauvez-voi. madame!” he cried. She,
poor soul, terrified at ihis strange ap
parition. who with torn clothes, cov
ered with soot, and with darker stains
upon him. stood suppliant before her,
c
i had but an instant to decide, for the
tramp of soldiers rang up the stairs,
and a thundering knock at the outer
door summoned her to open. She bade
him go into the bed, and taking the
skirt of her dress, a jacket, and some
other feminine garments, covered him
■*r*th these. And then followed a long
parley between the soldiers outside
and the quick-witted Frenchwoman
inside the door. “She was not dressed;
what did they want; what an abomin
able thing that in these evil days the
very bedrooms of women were not to
be respected.” Of course, the soldiers
had their way, and entered the room,
the lady, scolding, fuming, protesting.
The men looked in the cupboards and
wardrobe and under the bed; into the
bed they did not look; and after many
apologies, with a military salute, they
departed. The poor woman sank in
to a chair, and slowly the general
raised himself. “Look, madame,”
said he, as he took from a little table
beside the bed his tobacco pouch,
which unconsciously he had laid down.
“If they had found this!”
Malinda and the Cardinal. his own behalf through an interpreter. She Wanted “Serve.”
One of the after-dinner stories float- He was convicted. She looked all of 19 years old and
ing about the Hamptons, apropos of Shortly after the verdict Mr. French must have been keeping house ar
Cardinal Gibbons’ visit, relates to a was met by a member of the bar, who least a week Her ^experience was
colored girl who once had a place in congratulated him. and added that he testing the grocer s ability to suDnress
the cardinal's household in Baltimore, supposed he was gratified at the re- kjs smnes
“She came to me,” said the woman suit.
who told the story, “with a most flat- “Yes,” replied the district attorney, 7 and’ S^e sa*d’ *n a ban
tering letter of recommendation. I “because whereas I have heretofore ir-ten ed td show that she had
held her off until I got into communi- only heard the prisoner’s Finnish, I a one or years and 5 ears, “toinks
cation with another member of the now see it.” succotash is simply lovely. 111 take a
rectory service. 'Malindy was a fine __ pound of it.
girl, all right,’ was the response I whw i ... i il.. Tbe SroceTman continued to sup
heard. ‘and we couldn’t find muah vY.opf,rptarv9nf press bls flings while he filled a
fault with her. But, you see. we had T , . .. * . paper bag with beans and green corn,
to let her go. for, do what we would, h f ^ h a^ienJ.e f°d ad™sed her to have it cooked
we couldn’t keep her. when she want- ^ ™ £ ^I^makers ^ thoroughly.
ed to rig herself up in extra style, alwa ‘ feel glad whep called ' He was beginning to feel secure
from wearing the cardinal s red silk k^ h however ” he ? sav* again when she bouSbt a ean of soup
stockings.’ ’’-New York Sun. ^fbe ^7of a certain’ °'a ad^ised brand and said:
~~ amateur actor. He was in all the the- . ou ca?, g*ve me fi'e cents worth
Dist. Atty. French and the Finn. atricals going in his small town. He ° Sf>rve
Dist. Atty. French of the southeast- played all sorts of parts. Some one The man behind the counter was
ern district of Massachusetts has a asked him one day if he did not get bewildered even after hearing the or
sense of humor which he is not always tired of taking part in every private der repeated. She explained:
able to suppress. Some time ago it theatrical performance. ‘The directions tell you how to
became his duty to try a man in Nor- "‘Yes,’ said the young fellow; T cook it and what to put in. But I
folk county for murder in the second don’t like to act a bit; but I know if haven’t got everything that’s called
degree. The defendant was a Finn. I*m not on the stage 111 have to sit in for. The directions say ‘just add hot
who knew no English, and testified in the audience.’ ” water and serve.’ ”
CHEEUB8 GOT MIXED
TOO MANY CHILDREN IN THE
‘BUNCH”
After Liberal Application of Soft Soap
and Warm Water Magnolia Proveo
She Was Right—But It Didn’t Make
Much Difference.
"Sorter funny thing happened at
my place day before yesterday,” said
a certain prominent resident of the
’Possum Trot, Ark., neighborhood
‘‘Wife ’lowed she did, that it ‘peared
to her that the children were makin*
considerable more noise than common
out in the yard: they were playin
hoss-thief or lynchin', or some inno
cent game that-a-way—four or five of
’em figger on bein' deputy sheriffs or
something of that sort when they
grow up. l said 1 reckoned the fracas
was just about normal; but wife
’lowed—and you know how set women
are when they get hold of a notion—
she ’lowed, also, that there 'peared
somehow to be more of ’em than was
customary around there.
“ ‘Aw, I reckon not. Magnolia.’ says
Ip sorter soothingly. ‘I reckon not.’
“But nothin’ would do her but we
must go out and investigate. The
yard did seem to be pretty thickly
populated, for a fact, and when they
heard us cornin’ several more children
crawled out of the ash-hopper anc
from under the house and such places,
and when we had tallied 'em al
up, burhanged If there wasn’t nine
teen of ’em, when wife ’lowed—an.
reckon she knowed—that there ough
not to have been more than abor
fourteen. It shorely looked as if thei
was a bug under the chip as the savin
goes, and nothin' would satisfy wif
but to find out what was wrong SI
added ’em up, and she ciphered ’e
out, and there shore was nineteen
’em, and no mistake about it! I sat
prob’ly that was right, after all. bt
wife wouldn’t hear to it. She s;uc
and hung—and, as I said before, vo
know how women are that-a-way—tha
there was too much liberality, as 1
were, in the census roll.
“She was a good deal aggravate*
about it, too, and the upshot of tht
matter was that she took soft soap
and warm water and washed the face*
of every last one of them children
And, behold you, when the operation
was over, dinged if it didn't prove
that wife had been right all the time
as she ’most generally is. In the pack
was two children of Lab Juckett’s anc
one of Tut Springer’s, or two of Tut *
and one of Lab’s—I fergit which, now
—and two more that wouldn’t tel:
where they belonged. Two of th*
extra layout had ben livin’ at out
place for three days or so. another did
not ’pear to know when he'd com*
there, and them two contrary ehildre?
that wouldn’t tell where they cam*
from got their backs up and refuse*
to say how long they had been witl
us. And in the case of all of ’em
none of their folks had made any sign,
of havin’ missed 'em.’’—Tom Watson*:
Magazine.
Painting in the Dark.
Artists are known to be often eccen
tric in their methods, but H Keyworth
Raine appears to have adopted an en
tirely original system of his own
While his confreres of the brush are
seeking by artfully placed studios tc
have a steady, brilliant light upon
their work, Mr. Raine retires to Jhe
seclusion of an underground London
cellar, and there he paints portraits
which are remarkable for their beauty
and strength. The light he elects to
work by can scarcely be called a light
at all. for even the enfeebled rays
which filter through into his dingy
studio are practically stopped by tis
sue paper and curtains. Mr. Raine re
cently gave an exhibition of his meth
od at a London hotel. On four consec
utive days he painted for an hour at
a time in a room which was almost
dark, watched eagerly the while by a
committee of literary, journalistic and
art critics. At the end of the four
hours the light was let into the room
and a fine portrait, full of power and
originality, was seen to have been pro
duced.—Chamber’s Journal.
Creator of Frocks.
"Lucile,” known in London society
as Lady Duff-Gordon. is the creator
of emotional frocks and also the happy
discoverer of the garden showroom—
or rather, show garden—for outdoor
dresses. At the back of her business
establishment—a fine old Georgian
mansion in Hanover street—is a large,
old-fashioned garden. There, in har
mony with the sky and trees and not
in a stuffy showroom. “Lucile” discov
ered the ideal place for the eihibi
tion of outdoor gowns. Accordingly
“Lucile’s” customers will choose their
frocks for race meetings, garden par
ties and outdoor wear generally in her
garden, and while this important bus
iness goes on a ladies’,orchestra will
“discourse sweet music.” Another
novel idea is a breed of “Lucile” pet
dogs for “Lucile” gowns. It all sounds
very delightful and Lady Duff-Gordon
Is apparently not only an artiste in
“emotional” frocks but also a first
rate woman of business.
Serrous Charge Against Official*.
The Nome Nugget charges govern
ment officers with using illegal meth
ods and taking advantage of their po
sition to possess themselves of many
valuable claims which are obtainec
by relocating. It prints tables com
paring the number of claims held by
government officers and their relative*
or assistants, and those held by the
leading mining and business men of
Nome and vicinity.
Grades of Glory.
“Who’s the pompous old dog?”
“He's the man who proved that Am
bassador Porter's find wasn't really
the body of John Paul Jones.”
“But look at the other old dog. He r
twice as pompous. Wonder who h«
is?”
“Oh, he’s the fellow who provet
there never was a John Paul Jones
Philadelphia Bulletin.
Raises the Standard.
The University of California has
greatly raised the standard of admis
sion, and has made the condition tot
degrees far more stringent
s