OB HAMPTON ,
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By MANMll PARBISHAUTHOR 6fa
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SYNOPSIS.
A deta -hment of the Eighteenth In-'
fantry from Fort Bethune trapped by
Indians in a narrow gorge. Among them
Is a stranger who introduces himself by
the name of Hampton, also Gillis the
post trader, and his daughter. Gillis and
a majority of the soldiers are killed dur
ing a three days' siege. Hampton and
tiie girl only escape from the Indians.
They fall exhausted on the plains. A
company'of the Seventh cavalry. Lieut.
Brant in command, find them. Hampton
and the girl stop at the Miners' Home in
Gleneaid. Mrs. Duffy, proprietress. Hamp
ton talks the future over with Miss Gil
lis—the Kid. She shows him her moth
er's picture and tells him what she can
of her parentage and life. They decide
she shall live with Mrs. Herndon. Naida
the Kid—runs away from Mrs. Herndon's
and rejoins Hampton. He induces her to
go back, and to have nothing more to do
with him. Hampton plays his last game
of cards. He announces to Bed Slavin
that lie has quit, and then leaves Glen
eaid. Miss Phoebe Spencer arrives in
Gleneaid to teach its first school. Miss
Spencer meets Naida, Rev. Wynkoop.
etc. She boards at Mrs. Herndon's.
Naida and Lieut. Brant again meet with
out his knowing who she is. She informs
him of the coming Bachelor club ball in
honor of Miss Spencer. IJeut. Brant
meets Silent Murphy, Custer's scout. He
reports trouble brewing among the Sioux.
_
CHAPTER XIV.—Continued.
Lieut. Brant was somewhat delayed
in reaching the scene. Certain mili
tary requirements were largely re
sponsible for this delay, and he had
patiently wrestled with an unsatisfac
tory toilet, mentally excoriating a
service which would not permit the
transportation of dress uniforms while
on scouting detail.
The dance was already in full swing
when he finally pushed his way
through the idle loungers gathered
about the door, and gained entrance to
the hall. .Many glanced curiously at
him, attracted by the glitter of his uni
form. but he recognized none among
them, and therefore passed steadily
toward the musicians' stand, where
there appeared to be a few unoccu
jiied chairs.
The scene was one of color and ac
tion. He watched the speeding fig
ures. striving to distinguish the par
ticular one whose charms had lured
him thither. Bet among them all he
was unable to distinguish the wood
nymph whose girlish frankness and
grace had left so deep an impression
on his memory. Yet surely she must
be present, for. to his understanding,
this whole gay festival was in her
honor. Directly across the room he
caught sight of Rev. Mr. Wynkoop
conversing with a lady of somewhat
rounded charms, and picked his wav
in their direction.
The missionary-, who, in truth, had
been hiding an agonized heart behind
a smiling face, was only too delighted
at any excuse which would enable him
to approach Miss Spencer, and press
aside those cavaliers who were mo
nopolizing her attention. The handi
cap of not being able to dance he felt
to be heavy, and he greeted the lieu
tenant with unusual heartiness of
manner.
“Why, most assuredly, my dear sir,
most assuredly,” he said. "Mrs. Hern
don, permit me to make you acquaint
ed with Lieut. Brant of the Seventh
cavalry.”
The two. thus introduced, bowed and
exchanged a few words, while Mr.
Wynkoop busied himself in peering
about the room, making a great pre
tense at searching out the lady guest,
who, in very truth, had scarcely been
absent from his sight during the en
tire evening.
“Ah:’’ he ejaculated, “at last I lo
cate her. and, fortunately, at this mo
ment she is not upon the floor, al
though positively hidden by the men
clustering about her chair. You will
excuse us. Mrs. Herndon, but I have
promised Lieut. Brant a presentation
to your niece.”
They slipped past the musicians’
stand, and the missionary pressed in
through the ring of admirers.
“Why, Mr. Wynkoop!” and she ex
tended both hands impulsively. "And
only to think, you have never once
been near me all this evening: You
don't know how much I have missed
you. 1 was just saying to Mr. Moffat
—or it might have ben Mr. McXeil—
that I was completely tired out and
wished you were here to sit out this
dance with me.”
Wynkoop blushed and forgot the
errand which had brought him there,
but she remained sufficiently cool and
observant. She touched him gently
with her hand.
“Who is that fine-looking young offi
cer?” she questioned softly, yet with
out venturing to remove her glance
from his face.
Mr. Wynkoop started. “Oh, exactly;
1 had forgotten my mission. He has
requested an introduction." He drew
the lieutenant forward. "Lieut. Brant,
Miss Spencer.”
The officer bowed, a slight shadow
of disappointment in his eyes. The
lady was unquestionably attractive,
her face animated, her reception most
cordial, yet she was not the maiden of
the dark, fathomless eyes and the
wealth of auburn hair.
"Such a pleasure to meet you,” ex
claimed Miss Spencer. "Do you know,
lieutenant, that actually I. have never
before had the privilege of meeting
an officer of the army. Your appear
ance supplies the one touch of color
that was lacking to make the picture
complete. Mr. Moffat has done so
much to make me realize the breadth
of western experience, and now, I do
so hope, you will some time find oppor
tunity to recount to me some of your
army exploits.”
The lieutenant smiled. "Most glad
ly; yet just now, I confess, the music
invites me, and I am sufficiently bold
to request your company upon the
floor.”
Miss Spencer sighed regretfully.
"Why. really, Lieut Brant, I scarcely
see how I possibly can. I have al
ready refused so many this ei'ening,
and now I almost believe 1 must be
under direct obligation to some one
of those gentlemen. Still,” hesitating
ly, "your being a total stranger here
must be taken into consideration. Mr.
Moffat. Mr. McNeil. Mr. Mason, surely
you will grant me release this once?"
There was no verbal response to the
appeal, only an uneasy movement; but
iter period of waiting was extremely
brief.
"Oh, I knew you would; you have
all been so kind and considerate.”
She arose, resting her daintily gloved
hand upon Brant's blue sleeve, her
pleased eyes smiling up confidingly
into his. Then with a charming smile.
"Oh, Mr. Wynkoop, I have decided to
claim your escort to supper. You do
not care?”
Wynkoop bowed, his face like a
poppy.
"I thought you would not mind oblig
ing me in this. Come, lieutenant."
Miss Spencer, when she desired to
be, was a most vivacious companion,
and always an excellent dancer Brant
easily succumbed to her sway, and be
came, for the time being, a victim to
her charms. To Brant the experience
brought back fond memories of his
last cadet ball at the Point, and he j
hesitated to break the mystic spell i
with abrupt questioning. Curiosity. [
however, finally mastered his reti
cence.
"Miss Spencer,” he asked, “may I
inquire if you possess such a phenome
non as a star' pupil?"
The lady laughed merrily, but her
expression became somewhat puzzled.
"Really, what a very strange question!
Why, not unless it might be little J
IS not her intention. But she wants
to know everything—why we believe
this and why we believe that, doc
trines which no one else ever dreams
of questioning, and he cannot seem to
make them clear to her mind. Some
of her questions are so irreverent as
to be positively shocking to a spirit
ually minded person.”
They lapsed into silence, swinging
easily to the guidance of the music.
His face was grave and thoughtful.
This picture just drawn of the per
verse Naida had not greatly lowered
her in his estimation, although he felt
instinctively that Miss Spencer was
not altogether pleased with his evi
dent interest in another.
“It is very interesting to know that
you two met in so unconventional a
way,” she ventured, softly, "and so
sly of her not even to mention it to
me. We are room-mates, you know,
and consequently o.uite intimate, al
though she possesses many peculiar
characteristics which I cannot in the
least approve. I shall certainly do my
best to guide her aright. Would you
mind giving me some details of your
meeting?”
For a moment he hesitated, feeling
that if the girl had not seen fit to con
fide her adventure to this particular
friend, it was hardly his place to do
so. Then, remembering that he had
already said enough to arouse curi
osity, which might easily be developed
into suspicion, he determined his
course. In a few words the brief story
was frankly told, and apparently
proved quite amusing to Miss Spencer.
“Oh, that was Naida, beyond a
doubt” she exclaimed, with a laugh of
satisfaction. “It is all so characteris
tic of her. I only wonder how she
chanced to guess your name; but real
ly the girl appears to possess some
peculiar gift in thus discerning facts
hidden from others.
The music coming to a pause, they
slowly traversed the room.
“I presume, then, she is not pres
ent?” he said, quietly.
Miss Spencer glanced into his face,
the grave tone making her apprehen
sive that she might have gone too far.
“She was here earlier in the even
ing, but now that you remind me of it,
1 do not recall having noticed her of
late. But, really, lieutenant, it is no
part of my duty to chaperon the young
girl. Mrs. Herndon could probably in
form you of her present whereabouts.”
Miss Spencer was conscious of the
sting of failure, and her face flushed j
with vexation. “It is extremely close
-P—=ge— 1-—, . 'Cfr
1
“Miss Spencer, May I Inquire If You Possess Such a Phenomenon as a‘Star’
Pupil?”
Sammy Worrell; he can certainly use
the longest words 1 ever heard of out
side a dictionary. Why, may I ask?
Are you especially interested in prod
igies?”
”Oh. not in the least; certainly not
in little Sammy Worrell. The person
I had reference to chances to be a
young woman, having dark eyes, and a
wealth of auburn hair. We met quite
by accident, and the sole clew I now
possess to her identity is a claim she
advanced to being your ‘star' pupil.”
Miss Spencer sighed somewhat re
gretfully. and her eyes fell. “I fear
it must have been Xaida, from your
description. Eut she is scarcely more
than a child. Surely, lieutenant, it
cannot be possible that you have be
come interested in her?”
He smiled pleasantly. “At least 18,
is she not? 1 was somewhat impressed
with her evident originality and hoped I
to renew our slight acquaintanceship '
here in more formal manner. She is
your ‘star' pupil, then?”
“Why. she is not really in my school
at all, but I outline -the studies she
pursues at home, and lend her such
books as 1 consider best adapted for
her reading. She is such a strange
girl!”
“Indeed? She appeared to me to be
extremely unconventional, with a de
cided tendency for mischief. Is that
your meaning?”
“Partially. She manages to do
everything in a different way from
other people. Her mind seems pecu
liarly independent, and she is so un
reservedly western in her ways and
language. But I was referring rather
to her taste in books—she devours
everything.”
“You mean as a student V
“Well, yes, I suppose so; at least
she appears to possess the faculty of
absorbing every bit of information,
like a sponge. Sometimes she actual
ly startles me with her odd questions.
I really believe Mr. Wynkoop seekB to
avoid meeting her, she has shocked
him so frequently in religious mat
ters.”
“Does she make light of his faith?”
“Oh, no, not that exactly, at least It
in here, don't you think?” she com
plained. “And I was so careless as to
mislay my fan. I feel almost suffo
cated.”
“Did you leave it at home?” he ques
tioned. “Possibly I might discover a
substitute somewhere in the room.”
“Oh, no; I would never think of
troubling you to such an extent. No
doubt this feeling of lassitude will
pass away shortly. It was very fool
ish of me, but I left the fan with my
wraps at the hotel. It can be recov
ered when we go across to supper.”
"It will be no more than a pleasure
to recover it for you," he protested,
gallantly.
The stairs leading down from the
hall entrance were shrouded in dark
ness. the street below nearly deserted
of loiterers, although lights streamed
forth resplendently from the undraped
windows of the Occidental and the
hotel opposite. Assisted in his search
by Mrs. Guffy, the officer succeeded In
recovering the lost fan. and started to
return. Just without the hotel door,
under the confusing shadows of the
wide porch, he came suddenly face to
face with a young woman, the unex
pected encounter a mutual and embar
rassing surprise.
CHAPTER XV.
An Unusual Girl.
The g’rl was without wraps, her
dress of some light, fleecy material
fitting her slender figure exquisitely,
her head uncovered; within her eyes
Brant imagined he could detect the
glint of tears. She spoke first, her
voice faltering slightly.
“Will you kindly permit me to
pass?”
He stepped instantly to one side,
bowing as he did so.
“I beg your pardon for such seeming
rudeness” he said, gravely. “I have
been seeking you all the evening, yet
this unexpected meeting caught me
quite unawares.”
“You have been seking me? That is
st-ange. For what reason, pray?”
"To achieve what you were once
kind enough to suggest as possible—
the formality of an introduction. It
would seem, however, that fate makes
our meetings informal.”
“That is your fault, not mine.”
“I gladly assume all responsibility,
if you will only waive the formality
and accept my friendship.”
Her face seemed to lighten, while
her lips twitched as if suppressing a
smile. “You are very forgetful. Did I
net tell you-that we Presbyterians are
never guilty of such indiscretions?”
“I believe you did, but I doubt your
complete surrender to the creed."
“Doubt! Only our second time of
meeting and you already venture to
doubt! This can scarcely be construed
into a compliment, I fear.”
“Yet to my mind it may prove the
very highest type of compliment,” he
returned, reassured by her manner.
“For a certain degree of independence
in both thought and action is highly
commendable. Indeed. 1 am going to
be bold enough to add that it was
these very attributes that awakened
my interest in you.”
“Oh, indeed; you cause me to blush
already. My frankness. I fear, bids
fair to cost me all my friends, and I
may even go beyond your pardon, if
the perverse spirit of my nature so
move me.”
"The risk of such a catastrophe is
m.ne, and I would gladly dare that
much to get away from conventional
commonplace. One ada^mtage of such
meetings as ours is alPimmediate in
sight into each other’s deeper nature.
For one 1 shall sincerely rejoice if you
will permit the good fortune of our
chance meeting to be alone sponsor
fof our future friendship. Will you
net say yes?"
She looked at him with greater
earnestness, her young face sobered
by the words spoken. Whatever else
she may have seen revealed there, the
countenance bending slightly toward
her was a serious, manly one. inspir
ing respect, awakening confidence.
“And I do agree,” she said, extend
ing her hand in a girlish impulse. “It
will, at least, be a new experience and
therefore worth the trial. I wlil even
endeavor to restrain my rebellious
spirit, so that you will not be unduly
shocked."
He laughed, now placed entirely at
his ease. “Your meed of mercy is ap
preciated, fair lady. Is it your desire
to return to the hall?"
She shook her head positively. “A
cheap, gaudy show, all bluster and
vulgarity. Even the dancing is a mere
parody. I early tired of it.”
“Then let us choose the better part,
and sit here on the bench, the night
our own.”
He conducted her across the porch
to the darkest comer, where only rifts
of light stole trembling in between the
shadowing vines, and there found con
venient seats. A moment they re
mained in silence, and he could hear
her breathing.
“Have you truly been at the hall,”
she questioned, “or. were you merely
fibbing to awaken my interest?”
“I truly have been.” he answered,
“and actually have danced a measure
with the fair guest of the evening.”
“With Phoebe Spencer! And yet
you dare pretend now to retain an in
terest in me? Lieut. Brant, you must
be a most talented deceiver, or else
the strangest person I ever met. Such
a miracle has never occurred before!”
“Well, it has certainly occurred
new; nor am I in this any vain de
ceiver. I truly met Miss Spencer. I
was the recipient of her most entranc
ing smiles; I listened to her modu
lated voice; I bore her off, a willing
captive, from a throng of despairing
admirers; I danced with her, gazing
down into her eyes, with her fluffy
hair brushing my cheek, yet resisted
all her charms and came forth think
ing only of you."
“Indeed? Your prodf?”
He drew the white satin fan forth
from his pocket, and held it out to
ward her with mock humility. "This,
unbelieving princess. Dispatched by
the fair lady in question to fetch this
bauble from the dressing-room, I for
get my urgent errand in the sudden
delight of finding you.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Mozart’s Music in the Tyrol. \
V .
Peculiar Charm of Concerts as Given
by the Peasants.
There is a slo-v rising scale from
the simplest summer music to the
splendor of the Ring Bayreuth, or still
higher, to an occasional Mozart fest
at Salzburg, writes.* musician on his
European holiday jaunt Somewhere
near the humblest beginnings, and
yet with a real interest all their own,
are the small village concerts in the
Bavarian Tyrol. Taking a supper at
the rough tables in the open air, in
the midst of peasant gayety and the
pretty colors of the costumes, we look,
admiring, at the group of performers,
sitting at a raised table, adorned In :
the full glory of the national dress
feathers in the cap, brilliant waistcoat,
trousers that leave a gap below the
knee. One of the men plays the zither
to the other's singing in a certain nar
row round of harmonies that seem to
fit all the songs. For these vary real
ly only in rhythm. Or the singers will
produce hidden violins and a trumpet
and have suddenly changed Into a
band. However simple the music,
there is always the old charm of the
Tyrolese intervals and folksong.
Oriole Architects.
One of the beat architects in the
world is the oriole. Its graceful nest
contains four to six whitish eggs with
black and brown.
CREOLE DELICACIES
TRY THESE WHEN SEEKING
SOMETHING NEW. j
Appetizing Prvparations from Canned |
Fish—Good Way to Prepare Rice
—“Griacies” a Popular Dish in
the South.
“Something new!" “Somethin?
new!” is the eternal cry of the house
keeper. Truly, every woman who keeps
house must tire of preparing or even
ordering the same old things. Some
very famous creole recipes that have
come direct from old families may an
swer this cry. Surely the southern
ers live well, and these recipes are
delicious from the old test, “the
proof of the pudding is in the eating."
Canned fish of all kinds, if the best
brands are purchased, help to change
the menu during the cold winter days,
and the recipe for shrimp fricassee
that follows will make a very appe
tizing dish when oid recipes have
grown stale:
Shrimp Fricassee—Put a teaspoon
ful of iard in a saucepan; when it is
hot stir in one spoonful of flour; stir
over the fire until the flour is a rich
brown; then add one onion chopped
fine and when that has fried a little ■
(but before it browns) add two table
spoonfuls of tomatoes. Let it stew
a little with the saucepan covered on
a slow fire; then when the tomatoes
have melted down add two cups of hot
water, season to taste with salt, pep
per and cayenne. Let it stand a few
minutes before dinner, then put in the
shrimps, one or two cans, according to
the number of guests. The shrimps
will break if put in too early.
Rice is such a substantial and
healthy vegetable and yet when
served just plain boiled the men in
the family generally say: “No, thank
you." Some time try the following
for a change and see what they will
say;
Creole Rice—Wash one-half cup of
rice and cook in a double boiler until
tender. Lay two good-sized pieces
of bacon into a hot frying pan and
cook to a crisp, but do not burn. Add
to these drippings half an onion
sliced fine and brown, then add half
a cup of tomatoes and the rice, sea
son with cayenne pepper and salt and
stew together until it has all blended.
A very popular dish of beef, known
in the south as “Griades." is an ap
petizing dish that is easily prepared
as follows;
Griades—Take two pounds of beef
(the bottom round if possible), slice
thin, trim off all the fat and cut in
pieces about the size of the inside
of your hand. Put one spoonful of
lard in a saucepan. When the lard
is hot drop your meat, which must
be first properly washed, in the hot
lard, add a little salt, black pepper
and cayenne; cover the saucepan and
let the meat stew, or rather, boil, for
the juice of the meat will boil out,
stir occasionally and let all the juice
of the meat boil out; when it begins
to get dry stir it till it browns. When
it is of a nice brown color sprinkle in
the saucepan about one teaspoonful of
flour; when that is brown move it off
the hot fire so that it will not burn
and add three or four good-sized
onions sliced, and three or four large
tablespoonfuls of tomatoes. Let it
all smother with the cover on the
saucepan, stirring once in awhile, till
the onions and tomatoes are all melt
ed to a rich gravy, then add two tea
spoonfuls of boiling water and season
to taste and let it boil about one hour
or more. A tiny bit of garlic adds
flavor it you like it.
Ham Salad for Sandwiches.
One pound cold boiled ham. one
pound cold boiled tongue, chopped fine.
Add one-half quantity fine chopped
celery, then mix thoroughly. Dressing:
Put on stove in saucepan one-half
pint vinegar, butter size of an egg.
beat two eggs, two tablespoons mus
tard, one tablespoon black pepper, two
tablespoons sugar, one teaspoon salt.
Beat well together, pour in vinegar,
cook until it thickens. When cool mix
thoroughly with meat and celery. Fix
day before using. Keep in cool place.
Spread the bread on each side and add
a crisp lettuce leaf before folding to
gether.
Excellent Potato Soup.
A well-made potato soup Is just the
thing for luncheon some day when you
are at a loss for something hot and
wholesome. A quart of milk, six large
potatoes, one stick of celery, an onion,
a tablespoonful of butter. Put milk to
boll with onion and celery; pare the
potatoes and boil them until they are
thoroughly done; turn off the water
and mash fine; add milk and butter,
pepper and salt; rub through a strain
er and serve immediately. This soup
must not be allowed to stand.
Rice Flummery.
Mix quarter of a pound of ground
rice with a little milk, cold. Boil a pint
of milk, flavoring it with cinnamon,
and when boiling mix in the rice. Stir
until it thickens, adding sugar and a
little ratafia to taste. Cook for quar
ter of an hour, then pour into a mold.
Turn out when cold and serve with
apricot jam and whipped cream.
Baked Turnips.
Peel; slice thin and cook 15 min
utes In salted water; drain, place in a
buttered baking dish and pour over
them a cup of good, clear stock, sea
soned with salt, pepper, nutmeg, and,
if liked, a teaspoonful of sugar. Bake
until tender, basting often. Serve in a
hot dish with the pan gravy, which
should be slightly thickened, poured
over them.
Dish Drainer Toaster.
A dish drainer, which is a wire bask
et about 14 by eight inches, with five
short legs, makes a splendid toaster
and holds eight slices of bread. If
placed on the top of the stove the
bread will toast in three minutes,
even when not previously dried in the
oven.
To Clean Front Steps.
To remove green mold and other
stains from brown stone steps use 20
cents worth of oxalic acid dissolved in
two quarts of belling water. Scrub
hard with a broom, then wash with
cold water and wipe with a sponge
and the steps will look like new
stone.
WMR d. ^0
VtJZAWiP GOUWX
lylNCOlJJ l
My
JEANIE G. LINCOLN.
Political Clubs
for American
Women
By Jeanie G. Lincoln r
Well-Known Washington Woman
Advocates the Founding of a
Political Society for Women—
“ The league of the Golden
Rod ” Might Be Made Similar
to "The Primrose Club” of Eng
land—Woman’s Influence Should
Purify the Ballot.
V_y
(Copyright, by Joseph B. Bowles.)
[Copyright, 1S06. by Joseph B. Bowles ]
i Mrs. Jeanie Gould Lincoln, widow- of
the late eminent surgeon. Dr. K S. Lin
coln. is well known in literary circles in
Washington, where she is also prominent
in society. Her first book. 'Marjorie's
Quest,” brought her into public notice
years ago. A later book. "Her Wash
ington Season." was one of the first writ
ten in the now popular diary style. Her
more recent books. “A Genuine Girl”
and "An Unwilling Maid," were received
with favor by the public. Of her verses
which have been set to music the best
known is "Tender and True.”)
At the opening of the twentieth cen
tury, realizing the wonderful strides
that progress and enlightenment have
made, perhaps there is none more
gratifying than the increased and far
reaching inlluence attained by women.
Who, when the nineteenth century
was yet in its infancy, would have
been bold enough to predict to our
grandmothers, whose stately heads
still wore turbans and whose erect
figures scorned even the support of a
high-backed and most uncomfortable
chair, that their descendants would
don automobile caps, lounge even in
a drawing room, become active pro
moters of clubs and other female or
ganizations, even cast ballot at the
polls and be elected to public offices?
No doubt the dear old dames would
have shuddered at such pronounced
advancement; but “extremes touch,”
and never more easily than in the de
lightful being known as the up-to-date
woman.
What a boon to many have been the
clubs, from the modest societies of the
working girls in our great cities to
the genealogical clubs—the Daughters
of the American Revolution, the Co
lonial Dames and the Holland society!
These wonderfully successful organi
zations have conclusively proved that
women are competent to direct public
work, and to go hand in hand with
men in the honor roll of progress.
But with. this infinite number of
clubs, historical and genealogical,
there appears to be none combining
the political and social in a manner
which if properly inaugurated might
show that the twentieth century is
still a measure in advance of the nine
teenth and include among the active
workers those whom the world at
large is somewhat prone to regard as
the drones of the human beehive.
There is a very large class of
women in the United States who from
environment, traditions and certain
shrinking from the publicity attendant
upon female suffrage are debarred
from showing the interest they take
in politics and from putting that inter
est and energy into practical use.
Taken in the proper form it would
seem a possible task to develop that
latent force and to make it of consid
erable service to our Republican gov
ernment by forming a woman's league,
which might be called—unless some
bright woman suggest a better title—
the League of the Golden Rod.
Twenty-five years since in England
a few members of the conservative
party, desiring to add to its strength
and influence, proposed such a plan,
and out of compliment and in memory
of the late earl of Beaconsfleld the
present powerful and able Primrose
league was named for its favorite
flower. The first movers in the form
ing of this political organization were
Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill
and Sir Henry Wolfe, ambassador to
Madrid. Possibly the quick wit of the
American woman was the germ which
appealed to the enthusiasm of her
British sisters. The dames of the
Primrose league, which began in a
small circle of London drawing rooms,
now number their thousands and are
found in “habitations”—the English
synonym for our American chapters—
all over the “tight little island.”
As woman’s influence is supposed to
purify and ennoble the ballot, a great
power for good government might be
evolved from an organization whose
center should be in our capital city,
where, although we have no suffrage,
its principal officers could administer
with fearlessness and ability. Its i
chief should be the wife of the presi
dent, ex officio, and of each succeed
ing republican president, with regents
and vice-regents in Washington, and
in the states where the league may be
established. The yearly dues and
membership fees would form a fund
which could easily be added to by sub
scriptions, when needed, and the only
pledge required of the members of the
league would be that by their personal
exertion they procure, outside of their
own family connection, one or two
votes at most to be cast at the gen
eral elections for the Republican party.
The question of a national flower
has been a matter of discussion for a
long time, but the golden rod grows in
I every state of the I'uion, and as its
! color suggests "sound money” what
better emblem could be found for the
party which has taken tlfht issue as
a part of its political faith? With the
general election every four years, with
no prime minister whose tenure ex
tends indefinitely, we lose the pretty
custom which obtains in England,
where "Primrose day” is celebrated
by wearing primroses and by decking
Beaconsfieid's grave with the bright
eyed flower of spring. That, no doubt,
would save the woman who may
choose to inaugurate a league such as
described the reproach of the Anglo
phobists—that we are becoming un
American, and even that awful thing,
imperial, by sharing the old honor
with old England of maintaining a
floral and political society.
CUPID IN THE CORNER.
One Instance in Which His Dart
Failed in Its Purpose.
When people first saw Nathaniel
Seaforth they nearly always exclaim
ed: “What a dear old gentleman!"
When they knew him better, they
generally added: "But a bit too fond
of interfering.”
For Mr. Seaforth was the sort of
man who prided himself on “taking
an intelligent interest” in other folks'
affairs.
Now, of all things, he “loved” a
love affair. He invariably scented it
afar off, and did his best to help it
along. One day he was comfortably
esconced in an electric car when two
young people entered—a girl and a
man. There were only two vacant
seats, and they, alas, were on oppo
site sides of the car, and at different
ends.
The young people seated themselves
in these, but immediately Mr. Sea
forth, with a benign smile, rose cum
brously, and gripping each successive
strap in hazardous fashion, left his
seat, which was next the young wom
an, and accosted the astonished young
man at the other end of the car.
“Take my seat," he said, in the
voice of one who would add. “and my
blessing, too.” The young man obedi
! ently stumbled to the other end of
the car.
The eyes of the whole company
were riveted in sympathetic interest
on the blushing couple now reunited,
and Mr. Seaforth chuckled into his
venerable beard as he said to his
neighbor:
“I don't like sweethearts to be sep
arated. I was young once, myself.”
“Fares, please!”
The conductor approached, the
young woman dived into her purse and
paid for herself, while the young man
paid his nickel?
Had they quarreled?
The company were more interested
than ever. The young man hastily
the girl in stony silence. At last an In
got out at the next corner, passing
quisitive but kindly disposed old lady,
who could no longer restrain her curi
osity, turned to the girl:
"Why don't you kiss and be friends,
my dear?”
"I’ve never seen the young man be
fore,” was the frigid reply; and, fol
lowing the direction of her angry
glance, the entire company gazed in
silent condemnation at the would-be
Cupid in the far corner.—Chicago
Tribune.
Why He Was Happy.
“Ever quarrel with you wife?” inf,
quired Klacker, of an acquaintance.
“No.”
“Have any trouble with your serv
ants?-'
“No.”
“Children worry you?”
“No.”
“Great Caesar, man! how's that?”
“Ain't married; live by myself.”
Question for Question.
“Why do women insist on going to
matinees for *he sake of crying?” he
inquired, impatiently. “Haven’t they
enough trouble of their own?”
“I don’t know,” replied she; “why
dc men Insist on getting into a poker
game merely for the sake of experi
encing a new kind of financial wor
ry T‘—Washington Star.
• . . $