How They Capture Hyena*. The following mode of tying hyena* in their den*, as practiced in Afghanistan, is given by Arthur Connolly in his Over land Journal, in the words of an Afghan chief, the Shirkaree Syud Daoud : “ When you have tracked the beast to his den, you take a rope with two slip knots upon it in your right hand, and, with your left holding a felt cloak before you, you go boldly but quietly in. The animal does not know the nature of the danger, and therefore retires to the back of liis den, but you may always tell where his head is by the glare of his eyes. You keep on moving gradually toward him on your knees, and when you are within distance throw the cloak over liis head, close with him, and take care lie does not free himself. The beast is so frightened that he cowers back, and, though he may bite the felt, lie can not turn his neck round to hurt you; so you quietly feel for his forelegs, slip the knots over them, and then, with one strong pull, draw them tight up to the back of liis neck and tie them there. The beast is now your own, and yon can do wliat you like with him. We gener ally take those we catch home to the kraal, and hunt them on the plain with bridles in their mouths, that our dogs may be taught not to fear the brutes when they meet them wild.” Hyenas are also taken alive by the Arabs by a very similar method, except that a wooden gag is used instead of a felt cloak. The similarity in the mode of capture in two such distant countries as are Algeria and Afghanistan, and by two races so different, is remarkable. From the fact that the Afghans consider that the feat requires great presence of mind, and no instance being given of a man having died of a bite received in a clumsy attempt, we may infer that the Afghan hyena is more powerful or mere ferocious than his African congener. Waked Up In Time To the fact that a want of tone in the sys tem is the herald of approaching disease, hosts of invalids have adopted that certain means of self rescue from impending dan ger, Hostetter’s Stoma h Bitters. This ben ignant tonic promotes, in nr ordinary de gree, digestion and assimilation, through which the blood is fertilized and made strength-yielding. Besides this, inactivity of the liver, bowels and kidneys, which impede a gain of vigor, is overcome. Appetite, as well as the ability to gratify it without dis comfort, is stimulated by this thorough medicinal cordial, which also has a iran quilizing effect upon nerves weak and un quiet. Food, it should he remembered, only half invigorates the dyspeptic. By the use of the Bitters its nourishing properties are made available. For malaria, rheumatism and the infirmities of age, use the Bitters. Not Quite. Up in one of Michigan's thriving counties lives a man tvho is about as re gardful of a dollar or two as a man can well be and be decent. He is a farmer in comfortable circumstances, and be ing thrifty, honest, industrious and a bachelor he was considered quite the catch of the neighborhood, notwith standing his painful exactness in money matters. He finally married a widow worth in her own right $10,COO, and shortly afterward a friend met him. "Allow me,” he said, “to con gratulate you. That marriage was worth a clean $10,000 to you.” “No,” he replied, "notquite that much.” “In deed? I thought there was every cent of $10,000 in it.” “Oh, no,” and he sighed a little. “I had to pay $1 for the marriage license.”—Detroit Free Press. Walter Baker & Co. of Dorchester. Mass., the largest manufa turers of pure, high grade, non-chemically treated Cocoas and Chocolates on this continent, have just carried off the highest hdnors at the Mid winter Fair in San Francisco. The printed rules governing the Judges at the Fair, states that “One hundred points entitles the exhibit to a special award, or Diploma of Honor.” The scale, however, is placed 60 high, they say “that it will be attained only in most exceptional cases." All of Wa.ter Baker & Co.'s goods received one hundred points, entitling them to the special award stated in the rules. A New York man was made jealous by the receipt.of a perfumed letter ad dressed to his wife. He tore his hair and raved around until it occurred to him to tear open the missive. This he did and discovered—a milliner’s bill for a new fall bonnet! Which same he im mediately took pains to settle. “ Hannon's Mutjir Corn Salv«.w Warranted lo cure or money refunded. Ask ycur drugget for it. trice lo cent*. “ How dare you swear before me ? ” asked a man of his son, recently. “ How did I know yon wanted to swear first?” said the spoiled urchin. KNOWLEDGE Brings comfort and improvement and tends to personal enjoyment when rightly used. The many, who live bet ter than others and enjoy life more, with less expenditure, by more promptly adapting the world’s best products to the needs of physical being, will attest the value to health of the pure liquid laxative principles embraced in the remedy. Syrup of Figs. Its excellence is due to its presenting in the form most acceptable and pleas ant to the taste, the refreshing and truly beneficial properties of a perfect lax ative ; effectually cleansing the system, dispelling colds, headaches and fevers ana permanently curing constipation. It has given satisfaction to millions and met with the approval of the medical profession, because it acts on the Kid neys, Liver and Bowels without weak ening them and it is perfectly free from every objectionable substance. Syrup of Figs is for sale by all drug gists in 50c and $1 bottles, but it is man ufactured by the California Fig Syrup Co. only, whose name is printed on every package, also the name, Syrup of Figs, ind being well informed, you will not accept any substitute if offered. ONLY WAITING. Only waiting ti.l the shadows Are a little longer i rown. Only wailing till the glimmer Of the da vs last beam flown; Till the night or earth is faded From this heart once full of day. Till the dawn or heaven is breaking. Through the twilight, soft an i gray. Only waiting till the reapers Have the :a*>t sheaf gathered home, For the summer time hath faded And the autumn wnds are come. Quickly reapers, gather quickly The last ripe hours of my heart, For the bloom of life is withered. And 1 hasten to depart. Only waiting till the angels Open wide the mystic gate At whose feet I long have lin ered Weary, poor and desolate Even now I hear their footsteps And their voices far aw i.v If they call me I am Waiting Only waiting to obey. Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer growm. Only waiting tin the g limner Of the day's la-t beam is flown: Then from out the folded d irkness Holy, deathless st irs shall rise. By whose light my soul will gladly Wing her passa ge to the skies —Frances L Mace. THE MERCHANT’S CRIME. BY HORATIO ALGER, JR CHAPTER XV—Continued. “I love her, Mr. Manton. Let her marry me,” exploded Cromwell, ner vously. “Really, you surprise me,” said Mr. Manton. “You wish to marry Clara?” “I should consider myself the most fortunate of men if I could win her as my wife,” said Cromwell, who talked more freely than usual under the influence of the tender passion. “It is an important matter,” said Mr. Manton, slowly, “giving away the hand of an only daughter in mar riage.” ‘T will do my utmost to make her happy,” said the enamored lover. ••1 have no doubt of it. To be sure I have not known you long: but 1 have formed quite a favorable opin ion of you from our brief acquaint ance. ” This was hardly true, for Mr. Man ton hud designated James Cromwell as an awkward booby in familiar conversation with his daughter, and she had assented to the justice of the epithetr. “Thank you, sir,” said Cromwell; may 1 then hope for your consent to my suit?” “Why, you see, Mr. Cromwell,” said Mr. Manton, throwing one leg over the other, “there are several things to be taken into considera tion besides the personal character of the nusband. For iustance—1 hope you won’t think me mercenary —but I want to make sure that you are able to support her in comfort, so that she need not be compelled to endure any of the privations of pov erty.” “I have a good business,” said Cromwell, "which is sure to bring me in a good income.” “Do you own your shop and stock up clear of incumbrance? Is it ail paid for? “Yes, sir.” “That is well—for a beginning. Now what property have you be sides?” “Why,” said Cromwell, “I make about $500 clear from my ward, Robert Raymond. “indeed! That is handsome. Still, he is likely to be taken from you.” “I don’t think he wilL” “Still, it is not a certainty. It is not equal to property producing this amount of annual income.” ••No, sir, but—” ••Hear me out. there is notning so substantial as property invested well. A good income is a good thing, but if it comes from anything else it is not sure. Now 1 will tell you what my intentions have been when anyone applied to me for my daughter’s hand, though I did not expect the occasion would come so soon. I meant to say, that is, pro vided the party was otherwise suit able, ‘Are you ready to settle $5,030 on my daughter on her wedding day, and will you still have an ehual sum left?’ That is the question I meant to ask. and I will ask it now of you.’’ He leaned back in his rocking chair as he spoke, and fixed a glance of inquiry on James Cromwell. He hoped that the young man would be able to answer in the affirmative, for if Clara could be well married, he would have his income entirely to i himself and he had made up his ; mind in that case to go to Europe on ! a pleasure trip. This he could do without breaking in upon his principal if he went alone: but as long as Clara remained unmarried, ! he knew that he should be expe ted j to take her with him. and this would I involve more expense than he was willing to incur. James Cromwell was taken aback by this unexpected difficulty. ••I am afraid my means are not sufficient to admit of my doing this, just yet,’" said Cromwell, reluctantly; but just as soon as Z am able I will agree to make the settlement you propose. ” Mr. Manton shook his head. ‘•I am sorry,” he said, and here he only told the truth, “that you are not in a position to comply with ray conditions, for they are indispensa ble. You must not think me mer cenary, but I don't believe in love in a cottage! As for Clara, she is a dear, unselfish girl, and she would think me mercenary. She never thinks of money, (I wish she didn't, he mentally added.) and would as soon marry a poor man ag a rich man. But I want to guard he: against the chances of fortune. So I desire that five thousand dollars should be settled upon herself, so that if her husband should fail in business, and you know such things happen very often, she will have a fund to fall back upon. I am sure you will think I am reasonable in this.” ••My business is a very safe one, and the percentage of profit is large, ” pleaded Cromwell, rather downcast: “and I think there would be no dan ger of that” “Yes, of course, 3*011 think so. Nobody thinks he is going to fail. Hut disasters come to the best busi ness men.” “Then you insist upon your condi tion, Mr. Manton,” said James Crom well, in a tone of disappointment. “I must,” said Mr. Manton with suavity. “Of course, 1 am sorry to disippolnt you. but then the happi ness of my daughter is the lirst con sideration with me.” “Then,” said Cromwell, “1 may toll you that, though I am not now worth the sum to secure your con sent, I have a relative who has me down in his will for a legacy of ten thousand dollars. I don’t think he will live long. Within a few months I may be wurth the required sum.” “I hope you will. Mr. Cromwell,” said Mr. Manton; “when that time comej, come to me again with your suit, and I will grant it, that is, unless Clara has formed another at tachment during that time.” Cromwell winced at this sugges tion, but he saw that he could ac complish nothing more with the father, and in rather an unsettled frame of mind he took his leave. CHAPTER XVI. Love and Lucre. When James Cromwell alluded to the possibility of his receiving a leg acy of ten thousand dollars at no dis tant date, it will be understood at once that he alluded to the sum promised him by Paul Morton in the event of the death of his ward. He had endeavored to compass Robert's death at Niagara Falls, but since his failure there, he had let the matter drop, partly from a timid fear of con sequences. partly from the thought that even without this sum he was sure of a good income. Rut the un expected condition proposed by Mr. Manton again turned his thoughts to the question of Robert’s death, and its pecuniary advantage to him self, and again our young hero was menaced by a peril by no means in significant. Rut Cromwell’s timid nature shrank from the audacity of the crime which suggested itself to his mind. Resides, though he was fas cinated by Clara Manton, he was not clear about settling so large a sum as five thousand dollars upon her. He would have done it if in his pow er, rather than lose her, but if he could obtain her on any easier terms he thought that it would be better. He decided, therefore, to see Clara herself, to communicate to her her father’s answer, and prevail upon her, if possible, to marry him with out her father's sanction. Chance, as he thought, favored him, for only a short distance from the house he met Clara, herself. She had left the house considerately, in order to allow him an opportunity to call upon her father, and was now returning. ‘•Mr. Cromwell?” she said, with affected surprise. “I supposed you were in your shop. I fear you are becoming inattentive to business.” “I can’t attend to my business un til one matter is decided” said Crom well. “What is that?” “How can you ask? Clara, I have just called upon your father. I ask ed his permission to marry you.” “What did he say?” inquired the young lady. “He toid me he would consent, on certain conditions.” “Certain conditions!” repeated Clara, innocently. “What eonld they be?” “He said that I must prove to him that I was worth ten thousand dol lars, and must consent to settle half that amount upon you.” “I hope you don't blame papa. He carries prudence to excess.” “No, I don t blame him. It is natural that he should wish to make sure of his daughter's comfort.” “And what did you say in reply?” asked Clara, considerably interested. “I told him that at present my cir cumstances would not permit me to comply with his conditions.” “i nat s a pity. “But that I was expecting a leg acy from a near relative that may possibly fall to me very soon, which would remove every difficulty.” “What did he say then?” “That when I received the legacy he would give me your hand, pro vided you were still willing.” The young lady cast her eyes upon the ground, J- he did not th nk much of waiting for deal men's shoes, and doubted whether her lover had any such relative as he referred to In her own mind she looked upon the matter as at an end: and began to consider for who a she had better angle next. “What do yon say to that, Clara?” asked Cromwell. ••I suppose it is fair,” she said. “No: it is not fair,” he said, “to make me wait so long. I have a good income; I am careful, and not extravagant, and I know 1 can sup port you comfortably. Do not make me wait. Tell me you will marry me at once?” “1 cannot disobey my father.” said the young lady, who had ail at once "become very dutiful. “But do you think he has a right to interfere with your happiness?” “Perhaps not; but I have always been taught to obey my father. 1 suppose he knows better than I what I ought to do.” “Surely, you are not afraid that I should be unable t » support you comfortably?” said Cromwell, re proachfully. “Oh, no.” answered Ciara. “I never think of money. My fathe • often tells me that I ought to think more of it. As far as I am concerned, I should never think of asking whether you were worth $1,000 or $ lo.ooa “I am sure.” he pleaded, "that if we were once married your father would not object. The legacy 1 spoke of is sure to come to me in a year or two, for my relative is very old and in very poor health, and there is no fear of his changing his will.” •T have no doubt what you say is true,” said < lara though in her own heart she had very serious doubts; "but then it would not be very long to wait a year or two. as the monev will come to you then. ” “A year or two!" repeated Crom well. “It seems to mo like waiting forever. ” ••I am afraid you have not the gift of patience, Mr. Cromwell,” said Clara, smiling archly. “No; 1 have not in this case, for I do not think there is any occasion for waiting.” “But my father thinks so. unfor tunately. If you can succeed in per suading him to the contra y you will find me ready to do as you desire. ” ••Then you are determined to abide by your father’s decision,” said Cromwell, in accents of disappoint ment. “I must,” said Clara, mildly, “however much my own heart suf fers in consequence.'’ and she put on the air of a victim of parental tyran ny; “unless.'’she added, -I am able to make my father regard it in a differ ent light.” “Promise me that you will try,” said her lover, grasping her hand. “J will do what I can.” she said. “But really, I must go now. My father will not know what has be come of me.” With a sweet smile, she left him. and returned to the house. He turned, and went back slowly to hi? shop. CHAPTER XVII. A Dark Deed. “There is no other way!” thought James Cromwell, as fresh from his interview with Clara, ho returned to his shop. “The boy stands in my way. His death will bring me money and then that man will give me the hand of the woman I love. There is no other way. unless Clara prevails upon her father to reeall his condi tion.” But another interview with the young- lady in the evening.dissipated any hope of tiiis nature which he may have entertained. She reported that her father was immovable on this point, and that persuasion and en treaty lial alike been in vain. “I may soon bo able to comply with your father's cond'tions,” said Cromwell. “I have received a letter to-day which informs me that the party from whom I expect a legacy is in very feeble health.” “Perhaps there may be something in his story,” thought Clara, and in fluenced by the doubt, she smiled graciously, and said: “Let us wait, and hope that fortune may favor us.” “Promise me one thing,” asked Cromwell, “that you will wait for me. and will not admit the atten tions of anyone else?” But this did not suit the plans of the astute Clara. She by no means wished to compromise her matrimon ial chances by binding herself to an uncertainty, and accordingly an swered: “I would willingly do so, Mr. Cromwell, if papa wore willing, but he has expressly forbidden me to hind myself by any engagement, ot make any promises. ” James Cromwell’s countenance fell. ••After all,” she, added with a | smile, “is anv promise necessary in j our ease? Do we not understand one i another?” These words and the smile that ac companied them, restored the cheer fulness of her lover. He thought he understood Clara Manton. but in this, a; we know, he was egregiously mis : taken. The next morning ho received the following note from Paul Morton. It was the first he had received from the merchant and was in reply to one oF his own he had written from Madison. [TO BS CO.'TTINTED. j 1’ouse I r:»eeed nj;. \ Mrs. Jones—lo'nn, I Mr. Jones—I object. ••Object to what, you fool?” “The deductions are not ger mane. ” •But you ha.en't heard what I was going” ‘•Object! Object!” (Goes on read ing) ••John, this is important” “Regular order r-r.” “W hat in the world is the matter with you” “Previous question! W'ow-w!” “Mr. Jones, can I speak with you, or are you a regular, driveling idiot” “Let the words be taken down. I demand that the words be taken down:” “Mr. Jones” ••’Bject! 'Beet prev’s ques'n! Wow o! W'aagh Yee-oop! Owoof! Mr. •Speaker, move 'djourn! W'a a-gh! Whoop ” John slammed down his paper and fled. His good wife glanced at it and found the cause of his unusual inter est LIII Congress—house proceedings. An Absent-Minded (.nest. A young husband met an old and pre occupied friend, whose mind is weighted with thoughts of things extraneous to family affairs, blit wishing to be agreeable, he asked after the family, aud, of course, the bab.-. “Beautiful, beautiful!” was the re ply. “>ve had the little fallow christ ened ou Sunday.” -Indeed!” said tho preoccupied one with an air of interest, and t'.iau in quired. “W as it ou the arm or on the I leg.”—Boston Home JournaL ASIDE from the fact that the l cheap baking powders contain alum, which causes indigestion and other serious ailments, their use is extravagant. It takes three pounds of the best of them to go as far as one pound of the Royal Baking Powder, be cause they are deficient in leavening gas. There is both health and econ omy in the use of the Royal Baking Powder. ROYAL EAKING POWDER CO., 106 WAIL ST., NEW-YORK. Honesty Under Trying Circumstances. During the war in Hesse in the year 1760, a Captain of dragoons was ordered out with his troop to lorage for provis ions. They reached a poor cabin and knocked at the door. An old man with a white beard appeared. “ Take me to a fieid,” said the officer, “where I can obtain forage for my troops.” “ Imme diately, sir,” replied the old man. He put himself at their head and ascended the valley. After about half an. hour's march a fine field of barley appeared. “ This will do admirably,” said the offi cer. “No,” said the old man ; “ wait a little and all will be right.” They went on again, until they reached another field of barley. The troops dismounted, mowed down the grain, and, trussing it up in bundles, put them on their horses. “ Friend,” said the officer, “how is it that you have brought us so far ? The first field of barley that we saw was quite as good as this.” “ That is quite true,” said the peasant, “ but it was not mine! ” _ Manifestly Deranged. “Gentlemen of the jury,” said the lawyer, who was making his closing speech, “I shall deliver no lengthy ad dress. I shall only call your attention to the fact that it lias been placed in evidence that the gentleman who is my client had before the crime been in the habit of attending .7 o'clock teas volun tarily.” And a few minutes later the jury re turned a verdict finding the murderer insane.—Chicago Record. Hall's Catarrh Care Is a Constitutional cure. Price, 75. •lamle's Safety Assured. Distracted Mother—Oh, John. John! Come quick! Jamie's fallen in the well! i Farmer Tightphist— Great Scott! I’ll get him out. It's the only good well on the place!—Chicago Tribune. The Farmer's Bank. His best bank is a fine meadow, a big po tato patch, a forty in World's Fair winter wheat, and twenty acres in monster rye. The best meadow is made by sowing Sai ler's extra grass mixtures this fall. It yields from 3 to 5 tons magnificent hay per acre. The Salzer Seed Co., La Crosse, j who are the largest farm and vegetable ! seed growers in the world, will send you a ! package of new wheat and rye, and cata logue upon receipt of 4 cents postage, w Both In the Cat Family. “What kind of vessel is that?" asked the young lady, pointing to a passing craft. “That is a eatboat," replied the per son interrogated “How funny!" exclaimed the artless maiden. “And I suppose." she added, “the little one behind it is a kitten boat.”—l\ew York Press. Waldo says in the Ohio farmer that he remembers one year making a very large profit from an acre of land, managed in this way: He first grew a crop of Tom Thumb peas, which ma tured in time for cucumbers, for pick les, and then he grew 500 bushels of turnips, sowed broadcast among the cucumbers. He found that these crops will mature without crowding each other, if properly managed. Three Home Seekers* Lxcnrslons To all parts of the West and Northwest via theChicago. Miiiwaukee & St. Paul Rui! wsy at ;radical y half rates. Round trip tickets, good for return passage within twenty days from date of sale will be sold on September 11 and 25 and October 9. 1S94. For further information apply to the nearest coupon ticket acent or address G. H. Heaford. General Passenger and Ticket Agent, Chicago, HI. Billiard t able, second-hand. For sale cheap. Apply to or address, H. C. Akix, all S. lbth St.. Omaha. Yeb. A scientist has said that there are ICO different kinds of sugar. Lying Is always an acquired habit, i 7.;.. JJ G > G*, . itching, scaly, crusty Skin J Diseases, such as defy the 5 ordinary blood medicines, \ are cured completely by Dr. ' Pierce's Golden Medical Dis 1 co very. For Scrofula in ail M its various forms, the worst U Scrofulous Sores and Swell ' ing:-, great eating Ulcers, I and every hlood-laint and disorder, ' this is a direct remedy. It thoroughly purifies and enriches your'blood. A hrandet. 77. C. D B. R. V. Pierce : Dear Sir —Tour “Golden Medical Dig covery ” has proved a blcss t,ing to me. It was reeom o mended to me bv Rev. P. A. Kuykendall. I have been a ieuu« «iiu uui uu my legs for four rears. I used three tmtiles of it, and ray legs are sound and well and my health ia better than it has been for sometime. I had the best doctors of this country treat | my case and they failed to effect a cure. You re respectfully. Tlie Cheapest Source of Potash. In the I’nited States muriate of pot ash is the cheapest source of potasli in every state except two. These are Del aware and New .Jersey. In each of these lcainit is cheaper than the muri ate. In Marjdand the price of potash in kainit comes very near to the price in the form of muriate. The farther you go from the coast the more kainit will cost. In Minnesota, for example, a pound of potash in the form of kainit will cost 7.52 cents, while in muriate the cost is only 5.13 cents per pound and in sulphate of potash G cents. Mothers, Save Your Children] Steketee's Pin Worm Destroyer Is the only sure cure known that effectually de stroys the pin worm, the most troublesome worn known. It also destroys all other kinds of worms. There is no remedy that can expel the worms from tho stomach or bectcm as does Steketee’s Pin Worm De btro>er. I’ur tale by all druggists; pent by mall on receipt »Cfi SEKY l O . DA K E CITY, MINN’. [ Best Cough fcyrun. *Tanes Good. Cae In time. Sold by druggists. HMSWIMiMBS W B’. Omnlm-SO, 1NJ)-I \V lie - Autc .^euiKUM AUiUi/ ^.euUuii luu iM|ier.