•rStGEOKjE' ? IMTHBOBC JC'TTKvar I •sotmfjaac zv ~Hns~j!7tr \ CHAPTER XXIII Continued. jr H«r words are followed by a scene of emotion as Pauline bends over Juanita and. taking her in her arms, kisses her fondly, her tears falling like ■ raindrops on the upturned olive face, so faultless in its rounded contour— ! the one so fair, the other so dark, and yet sisters. "Now I understand why I could not ha e you—my sister. The good Vir gin put it into my heart to let love reign instead of hatred. Do not grieve it is a sweet pleasure to die for you both." "It is misery—I feel as tho ’gh I could never he happy again!" Pauline : f»obs. The old senor has fallen back, and I Dick with one glance sees that he has passed away. "Can nothing he done to save her?" be says, feeling worse than ever be s lore in his life. "It is useless. I know that I have re | ceived my death: a little while and 1 shall pass away from you. Sister, let ine die in your arms." Pauline only weeps as she gathers the small but beautiful figure close to her heart ; she has searched for Beu lah in many lands over the sea. and at last finds hgr. but oh the terrible pain of this meeting that is but the pre cursor of the sad parting. "I have some knowledge of medi cine. let me see what can he done," says Colonel Boh. gravely. The girl looks at him gratefully .but shakes her head. "It would be useless: besides, when I remove my hand from the w'ound. life goes out. Give me a few more minutes to look into my sister's face; oh. how strange it all seems—how hap py 1 am to know that there is some one who loves me. who will think of me." Pauline w-eeps more violently than before—Dick winks very hard to keep hack the tears, while the valiant Col onel Bob. to hide his emotion, turns and makes a rush toward the little naturalist who has ventured to show his head and shoulders from under the table, but who vanishes within his shell much after the manner of tor toise drawing in head and feet in times of danger, when he sees that fierce terror of New Mexico descend ing upon him. As Colonel Bob. having furtively drawn the sleeve of his coat across his eyes, turns again, he sees that all is over: Dick is leading the almost faint ing Pauline from the room, followed by the hysterical Dora, while Antoin ette Duval bends over the lovely mo tionless form of the girl who gave her own life to save that of the man she loved. CHAPTER XXIV. Mrs. Richard Danvers. Where the tumult of battle raged such a short time before, a fearful si lence reigns. Men go about with lan terns, searching for the wounded, who are carried into one of the mine houses to receive attention from the company's doctor, who most certainly earns his good salary on this night at least. The dead are removed at once ami quietly buried, and they are not a'l on the side of the Mexicans, either. It has been a sad night for El Dorado, but the lesson has been so severe that i’ may be effectual. Dick has been deeply affected by the sad scene he has just witnessed, but when Dora has led her sobbing mis tress away to her room, he hurries outside to see about certain things that should be done, and is just in time to see a figure come sprawling from the window, landing in a mud hole with a splash, while the voice of Colonel Bob calls: “Hope that will teach you a lesson, you imp of lamrton assurance—I reck on you'll fight shy of women folks in genera! and the charming Dora in par ticular after this." "You've killed him. my dear fellow,” says Dick, whereat the New Mexican sheriff laughs harshly. “What! kill that audacious fellow who wants to make love to every pret ty girl he sees? Impossible. Why, lie's one of the kind that have nine I lives—there, look at him limp away. Ta. ta. my little cock-of-the-walk: your plumage is badly soiled. Hunt up some one you can bully.” ' Exeunt Professor John." says Dick, and then begs his eoihrade to come tint and lend a helping hand. A storm is rapidly approaching, and before it bursts upon the valley every wounded man to be found should be provided with shelter, while the fallen must be placed in their last resting-place. Thus the night passes away and morning comqs at last. A new day has dawned for the great mine—peace, with honor, has been gained, and now that the scheming brain of the old senor is stilled forever it will doubt less last. A mournful task awaits them—all that is earthly of poor Juanita must be consigned to mother earth. No tears are shed over Senor Lopez, but the scene is very sad when the plain coffin, made on purpose, and contain mg Pauline's long lost sister, found only to leave her forever, is lowered into the grave already prepared The sorrowful task is done at last, and then with a swoop the gale is upon them; rain falls heavily, the ar- j lillery of Heaven crashes with detona tions that shake the foundations of the mountains, while the flashes of elec tric Are are terrifying. It lasts nearly an hour, and a deluge 'falls that converts puny mountain brooks into raging torrents—then the tropical storm moves away over the high peaks that inclose the valley, and 'again silence broods over the scene of -the iate struggle. Of course, our friends have little ■heart for scenes of pleasure, bnt after mature consultation it is thought best .all around that Dirk and PanUae be married by the padre who has officiat ed at the mine. They will not make the occasion one of merriment—Paul ine a nerves have been too recently and cruelly wounded for that, but it is better that Dick may be recognized as the controlling spirit of the mine. They sit together in a room of Al exander's house talking over the situa tion. Dick, it may be noticed, has something on his mind: several times he starts to speak and by accident is interrupted: it does not take much to interrupt him at .present to ail appear ances. Somehow the conversation takes a retrospective turn, and Pauline, in a reflective way. says: "It has always appeared strange to me that the Prefect of Paris, with all >the force at his command, was unable to supply me with any information concerning Beulah. He seemed confi dent that he knew where Antoinette Duval might be found, and gave me every assurance of success, but it wound up in a failure." Bob pricks up his ears—he holds his breath like a man who has sud denly remembered something that quite astonishes him. "I saw a man running afte*- the train —he had just missed it—he waved aloft a small packet that looked like a letter. Perhaps that was a messen ger from the prefect." The sheriff of Secora county stands up. "Miss Pauline, I throw myself upon your mercy—I ant the one to blame—I, alone," he says. "You?" gasps Dick. “That message arrived during the night. I received it. paid for it—six teen francs, eight centimes." •Oh: "l thrust the little packet into my pocket, fully intending to hand it over to Miss Pauline in the morning and recover my advances." "You forgot it." almost shrieks Dora. “I changed my coat for a rough pea jacket in the- morning, and to-day is the first time I have had that same coat on since the day we left Havre. Pauline looks toward Dick in aes pair. "Can’t you manage to control him?" she asks, when to her surprise Dick laughs loudly, too. “Bob, behave yourself, sir. Finish reading the prefect’s message, and then support me. sir, for I believe i will have to faint." This admonition or warning gives Bob a little backbone, and he sobers up. “I beg your pardon. Miss Pauline.” Then, with a twitching at the corners of his mouth, he continues: “The proposition to draw this Danvers into a combination would seem very rea sonable. only for the fact that I'm afraid he has already committed him self. and is bound hand and foot. Haven’t you. Dick, you rlv rascal?” Dora giggles. Miss Pauline looks amazed. "Is it possible?" she almost gasps. Dick bows his head. "You are Richard Danvers?" con tinues the fair inquisitor, almost re proachfully. "I did not purposely deceive you. Years ago my name became Dick Den ver among the cowboys, and I have fallen into the habit of using it, ex cept when signing legal documents. I knew that both you and the senor here were hunting for me—after 1 met you I learned this, and my chum Bob— biess his dear innocent old soul!—told me that he had been hired by Ixtpez io find Richard Danvers, and he meaut to do it. though he changed his mind afterward.” The colonel grasps the hand of his comrade, and while he squeezes it de clares vehemently that it would have to be something ten times as grave as this that would make him feel that any wrong had been put upon him— that his words have only been chaff, and that after all the affair has ter minated about as well as it could. Dick turns to the fair girl. "And you. Pauline—do you forgive the little deception? ' he gently asks. Miss Westerly has been surprised; she can hardly comprehend it as yet; her name will be Danvers then, in stead of Denver; but what difference does it make when the man she is about to marry will be the same Dick? "Freely and fully, in fact, there is nothing to forgive. Dick. You have had your little fun, and on my part I make sure of the mine between us. The worry lest Mr. Danvers might change his mind and desert to the BOB READS THE PREFECT'S MESSAGE. They have always accused men of car . rying letters they were sent to mail, and this time I've put my foot in it sure enough. Miss Pauline. I'm very sorry, and if I ran redeem myself in any way, you can't treat me too rough ly.” "We are all liable to errors of judg ment, Boh. 1 shall not he too hard on you. One question—have you the message yet?" "I feel something crackle in my pocket—yes. here it is." and after hav ing lain all these weeks snugly repos ing in a man's pocke'. the message of the Prefect of Paris is drawn to the light of day. Bob holds it aloft triumphantly. He breaks open The end of the blue envelope, and takes out the inclosure it has contained, unfolds this latter and ho’ds It up so that the daylight entering at a window may fall upon the page. “ ‘Antoinette Duval is with Senor Lopez. His supposed daughter Juan ita is the lost Beulah. We have also discovered—Richard Danvers. He is-» "Great Heaven, and I never dreamed It." and Boh strikes his forehead with his hand. “Proceed, my dear colonel—if we can find him we may he able to make our position sure by some sort of partnership agreement." says the girl from New York, when to her amazement Bob Harlan gives a shout and slaps his hand down upon his knee as he exclaims: "Good! good! A partnership agree ment—what d’ye think of that. Dick? Fine, clever idea, eh? My dear lady, ! you-” and here another lit of laugh ter almost chokes him. enemy, giving Senor Lopez control, has kept me awake on more than one occasion, I can assure you," Pauline says. For that I beg your pardon, and as sure you it will not happen again." "He means to be an exemplary hus band." declares Bob. "Well, don’t you?” demands Dora, quickly. "I reckon you can trust me. There comes the good padre up the street. Ladies, summon your best nerves to the surface for the occasion." A chorus of exclamations break forth. Mrs. Alexander having joined them with her husband. "1 know I shall be stupid and forget to make the proper responses," de clares Dora. "You?" exclaims Miss Pauline. Dora is confused with blushes, while the colonel roars with laughter. "You see.” he says, "we made up our minds this morning, at least 1 did. and Dora was convinced by my rea soning. that there was no need of mak ing two separate jobs out of the busi ness—we couldn't do better than fol low such a good example, so we de cided that Dora shall become Mrs. Bob Harlan this A. M.” The surprise over. Pauline con gratulates the girl who has been so much like a companion and sister to her always as faithful as the needle to the pole. Then the padre is an nounced: and here we must drop the curtain on the quiet little scene, for the magician in clerical robes, and armed with authority, has by a few words created Mrs. Richard Danvers, and relegated to the past Miss Pau line of New York. (The end.) TROUBLES OF A PHYSICIAN. A physician was talking about his patient's symptoms. "“Young, strong people don't give me enough symptoms when they are ill,” he said, “but the middle-aged and the aged give me too many. Thinking about their health all the time, study ing their condition all the time, the aged and the middle-aged discover a symptom in every muscle, in every organ, in every limb. Thus they con fuse me. “The average sufferer of 50 or so will pour upon my head a deluge of symptoms like this: “ ‘Well, doctor. I’m miserable all over. Feverish one minute, freezing the next. I‘ve a gnawing pain in my hip and side and back, und an all gone sensation in the stomach, with a shooting, neuralgic headache over the left eye. I have a queer -.aste In my mouth, a dizziness when 1 stoop over, and a dull ache up and down the right side, along with a kind of numb ness. I cough a lot, my throat's sore, and I’ve the earacho. Appetite's fair, bnt not what It should he- 1 have a feeling of lassitude, very weak. These are only a few of mj main symptoms. To proceed-r-,' etc.1 —St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Development Outside of College. The slow boy in school often gives an excellent account of himself in the fierce competitions of after life, says the Philadelphia Ledger. Some youth* develoo very slowly and do not imme diately find their vocation. The honor menattheuniversity must possessadapte ability for the mastery of all or near ly ail the studies in the curriculum. Deficiency in mathematics may re duce the rank of the student who is an adept in the languages. Greek may be a suitable block to the youth who may be a mathematical genius. Outside tb« college wails the graduate can develop along chosen lines and find his sphere Hot If They Know It Barker—I wonder why most man ried women are afraid of their hus bands? Parker—I guess It’s because men never propose to the other kind.— | Chicago Daily News. Pretty Blouse of Messaline Made of Soft Messaline, Finished with Shawl Collar—Worn Over a Lit tle Chemisette. This pretty blouse of light green messaline is made with a tuck on each side of the front, which is finished with a shawl collar and little motiffs of velvet. The waistcoat or plastron is of white silk embroidered at the top. OF LATE MODE. where it opens over a little chem isette of lace. The sleeves are cut with tabs on the outside, which are ornamented with buttons, and are finished with deep stitched cufTs of the silk. Proper Style For Baby*s Card The Size of the Card Announcing Baby’s Arrival and the Inscrip tion Thereon. For the announcement of his birth, the boy has cards about two and one-fourth inches in length by one and ene-eighth inches in width. His full name is engraved directly in the center, either early English, plain English, or French script, being se lected, in accordance with that used on the cards of the parents, with which it is inclosed. Down In the left-hand corner is written out in full: Master William Thomas Carlyle, July the fifteenth. One thousand nine hundred and six or the words, "At home on rainy days.” may be used in the lower left hand corner, and the date of birth left entirely out. The latter is most used for baby girl's cards: it is not always permis sible to have so definite a reminder of her birth-date, after years have passed. These cards are attached by tiny ribbon bows at the top and center of the larger card, which should always be engraved with the names of both father and mother. The address is added, written out in full. For a boy pink ribbon and blue for the girl is chosen. Owned by Aristocracy Three out of every fifteen shops in the west end of London are o-.rced by men or women in society, who either keep them under assumed names or have a large financial inter est in them. New Gloves. The new chamois finished lisle thread gloves are such a good imita tion that they look like the real skin. They are quite reasonable in price. The Over-Ambitious Girl BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER (Copyright, 1H06 by Joseph B. Bowles.) Is there such a thing as useless knowledge, knowledge which is in itself rubbish, only fit to be stowed away in the lumber room of the mind? I suppose teachers will take excep tion to the statement, but I am more and more inclined to think that a great deal that they laboriously teach, and schoolgirls laboriously learn, might as well be dropped wholly out of the curriculum. We are all aware that what remains to us a few years after we have finished our school edu cation is. so far as facts are concerned, excessively small. What the schools have done, if they have wrought well, has been to give us mental facility and disciplined powers. The question is pertinent whether for girls they do this in the best way. What ought you, a schoolgirl, to acquire in order to be prepared for your work in life? It depends, of course, somewhat on your future. If you are to earn your bread by the toil of hands or brain, you must be taught application, con centration, perseverance and punctu ality. Without these good working qualities, no girl will succeed in any trade, from dressmaking to novel writing. Woman's great weakness lies in the direction of inattention, incon sequence and irresponsibility, and these defects hamper her in the world of business and fatally retard her progress. The schools should cultivate in girls these forceful and indispensable quali ties, as part of the equipment for fighting the world-battle. If arith metic, algebra and geometry, or Lat in and French, or physics and eco nomics are best calculated to promote this sort of mental and moral growth, by all means let our young girls study them. But one young girl should not have to spend all her time and all her strength during the golden years of school and college work in mastering them all. For the practical purposes of life the schools attempt too mnch and crowd it into too short a time, in the education of girls. • # • • • Schoolgirls are naturally aspiring and ambitious. They respond swiftly to the spur of an enthusiastic teach er's desires. They are always ready to undertake anything that is sug gested and to work until the point of exhaustion. I am not speaking of the idle or the inert or the apathetic type of girlhood, but of girlhood in the mass, when I assert that it does not hold back from the pace that kills. Boys cannot easily be pressed be yond a certain mark. Girls see the mark and try to go beyond it. And in so doing they often accumulate a lot of useless and worthless knowledge which never does them or anyone else a particle of good, and which might better be let alone, especially as It gathers dust and rust in forgotten pigeon-holes. If a girl is to spend her maturity as a home-maker, as a home daughter, or later as a wife, or a mother, she requires not so much an enormous amount of erudition as whatever tends to promote common sense, self-re straint and genuine kindness, and to eliminate egoism. Women at home must be altruistic. Then, too, a girl who would shine in the home and hold her own in society must have culture and charm. If the schools help to form her character on strong and sim ple lines and to give her courage as well as sweetness, they do more for her than if they enable her to pass puzzling examinations on multiform difficult subjects. ' Far be it from me to blame either girls or their preceptors for the great | and foolish waste that is forever tak ing place in matters educational. Primarily parents are the people most ; in fault. * * » • • The other day an advertisement ap peared in a widely read weekly pe riodical, which ran to the following effect. The words are not precisely quoted, but here is the gist of the ad vertiser's ‘‘Wanted:” “To take entire charge of a little : girl of ten. a young woman who is a | college graduate. She muse be fond of children, in robust health, and be I tween the ages of 2o and 30. Must 1 have had experience in similar posi tions and be able to furnish the high est references. She must be familiar wilh modern methods of teaching, and i besides the usual branches, her work will include music, drawing and na ! ture study.” The mother of the little maid of ten evidently expected that her child was to tackle music, drawing and nature study in addition to the “usual i branches.” These, at a rough guess. may have been history, geography, l English grammar, spelling, reading, penmanship, and possibly French or | German. 1 was surprised that so grasping a mother did not require the j college graduate who should apply for i the vacancy as her daughter's gov | erness to be an accomplished cc/.K and an adept in manual training, so that her child might receive initiation in these mysteries too. The mother who advertised was lay ing out too wide a plan for her daugh ter, and was demanding an impossi umij ui some umoriunate young woman of 25. The average age of the college alumna is 22. To have gone over the work prescribed in an or dinary college course, likewise to have attained distinction enough in music and art to instruct in these exacting departments, and to have learned the alphabet of nature study would be feats of herculean achievement that would send a giri to a sanitarium or her grave. To look for robust health after all that effort would be absurd, and as for the experience in actual teaching, where would be the time for it? The advertisement is a straw that shows where the wind blows to. Girls, what yon need and must have, at any cost, is a good working knowl edge of reading, writing and arith metic: some love for and acquaintance with good literature, and this springs from good reading: the accuracy and clearness which come of writing a good hand, and the honesty which is the product of fair mindedness and well balanced arithmetic. Don't be persuaded to spend precious hours on studying sciences that do not allure you, and annexing to memory vocabu laries which signify nothing to you. But for pity's sake learn to spell, learn to write a decent, straightforward let ter, and learn to converse not only fluently, but correctly, in clear, well chosen English. Avoid useless learning. Life is too full to be handicapped by needless im pedimenta. Time is too brief to be mortgaged to ambition. Health is toe precious to be ruthlessly sacrificed. One or two subjects thoroughly as similated are worth far more to cul ture than a mere smattering of a dozen, and the effect of the first on character is'much more enduring than of the second. I wish I could convince every schoolgirl that thoroughness in little is a higher virtue than diffuse ness spread loosely over large things. Attempt less and gain more should bs your rule. The Country’s Capital. Men and Blatters in Washington—Proctor of Vermont Largest Individ Owner and Dealer in Marble and Granite—Believes in Future of Washington—Senator from Iowa Held to a Policy of Pacification and Compromise—“Getting Even.” WASHINGTON.—One of the old men of the senate who does not rush off immediately upon the adjournment of congress is Senator Red field Proctor, of Vermont. The reason he does not join the early exodus after congress adjourns is that he has some of his principal business interests in this city. No one knows how wealthy Mr. Proctor is, as he is as mum as a piece of his own granite or marble regarding his personal affairs, but by inheritance and by his own acquisition he is the largest individual owner and dealer In marble and granite in the world. He is very fond of these two stones, and he is gradually putting them into buildings of considerable consequence here in Washington. He owns many granite and marble front houses and has just completed a very large apartment house with glistening white marble front. use some oi ms weauny colleagues ana predecessors in the senate, Mr. Proctor has had a good deal of faith in the future of Washington and has made many investments which are turning out exceedingly profitable. As he grows older he seems to take a deeper Interest in these real estate deals and much of his time, even in hot weather, is spent at the national capital ready to turn an honest penny, and a good many millions of them, in real estate transactions. Mr. Proctor is 75 years of age, and anyone to hear his basso protundo voice booming in the_aeen great friction between him and the subordinates in that establishment. He was given his position on the promise of inaugurating great reforms, and most of his time has been spent in reorgan izing the force and in fighting with various cliques anu organizations wimin me omce. In trying to put his reform into operation Mr. Stillings has made lots of enemies, so that on the last day and night of the session of congress the latter were able to give the public printer a black eve. The printing of ap propriation bills and other measures during the last hours of congress had hitherto been kept right up to the hour. On this occasion, however, the printing office fell back and the most unaccountable errors were made and delays ensued that kept congress in session at least 12 hours longer than would have been necessary under the old regime The president was also subject to annoyance by being kept at the capitol several hours bevond the time usually necessary to sign bills. It is prettj well understood that all this confusion, errors and delav were worked for the purpose of reflecting upon Public Printer Stillings A.n in vestigation has been ordered by the senate, but it is surmised that the in vestigators will have a hard time running down tne offenders in this case The printers who caused delay are blaming the latter on bad copv and mi* takes of enrolling clerks in the house and senate. ATTRACTION'S OF THE “GREAT FALLS OF THE POTOMAC.” It is not generally known that the largest falls east of Niagara are located in the Potomac river, some 16 miles northwest of Washington. They are called the "Great Falls of the Poto mac.” but have achieved in all their history little more than local fame and a verv small percentage even of the inhabitants of Washing ton have ever witnessed their beautv. The pro gressive trolley, however, is now to bring this natural wonder within the view of residents and visitors in \\ashingion. A line has been con structed to the point where the noble Potomac in a succession of rapids and falls tumbles over a good sized hill and makes one of the most attractive natural bits of scenery in the east. Hitherto the Great Falls has been known principally on account of the good fishing in their vicinity. The small mouthed Potomae lounu nere in large quantities and neighboring pools were the favorite fishing grounds of some of the noted statesmen of the past. Ex-President Cleveland in his eight rears’ residence in Washington was a frequent visitor in this neighborhood, and with his old fishing crony, former Commissioner of Internal Revenue Miller a gentleman of equal physical weight and breadth to Mr. Cleveland, took many a string of fine bass from these waters. The quietude of this section now promises to be broken, and what were rather exclusive fishing waters, because there was trouble in reaching them rill become open to the whole public. This is to be accomplished by the’ ubiquitous trolley line and a pleasure resort that will be established at its terminus overlooking the falls. The congressmen and other statesmen who love the vicinity of Great Palls for its natural beauty and distance from the public half regret the enterprise of their colleague. Senator Elkins of West Virginia, who has built this trolley line from the capital to the Potomac resort.