Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 2, 1903)
THE OMAHA DA1JA J1EE: FIIII1AY, JAXUAKY 2. 1JW3. RURAL DELIVERY GREAT HELP afbist Lift 01 th farm Much Mots Desirtbls Than Formerly. ECNEFITS ARE COMMERCIAL AS WELL Dtpnrlmfiit of Agrlroltnre Collects oat llatrmrnti of Farmers on Ik Vslne of Rami Mall Delivery. I do not think that any development of recent rear, not excluding Irrigation, the opening of vast tracfa of country by trana ontlnentsl rallroada. nor the extrordlnry expansion of our foreign commerce, has tone ene-half to much fur the farmer a rural free delivery. The benefit of thia erviee hare been two-fold first, social; I scond, commercial. I place the social advantages first becaueo f their great Importance. Just think of a farm houaa five miles or more away from the postofflce, with nothing to relieve the monotony of the dally life, with no news papers, no magazines and no correspond ence except when the "old man" finds It convenient to ride to town. Think also of the necessary delay In his work that this rids to town involves, and the possible temptation of the village grocery atore In which the poatofflce la prcvt.ty situated. Drar also In mind the educating influence Upon blm and bla family of dally newspa pers received on the day of their issue, nd all the wholesome magazines which to gether bring the country people Into active communication with the- affairs of the World. All these can reach him at an ex pense of a dollar or two at the outset, and without any further assessment. Ills boya can grow up with the knowledge of all that Is going on In athletic sporta and other Blatters In which boya take Interest. His girls can obtain the latest fashlona and go to church equipped In modest costumes of city make. His wife bears the news of the world from which she has been hitherto hut out, and begins to feci that she Is not Ions "Mary Jane" out In the country, but that she knows something that she can talk about to her neighbors of the doings of peo ple outsldo their own little community. Then the boys, instead of each of them growing np as "own brother to tho ox," with a hoe In his hand, begin to find thai they can make themselves factors in the world. They learn from the newspapera that this great country ia becoming prac tically the granary of Europe, that the crops they help to till will be transported to other countrlea, where the soil la In sufficient to support the population, and that they are moving a great world center of civilization, and are not merely clod hoppers upon their native farm lands. I believe that in no movement of modern ttmes are there so great elements of prog ress and Improvement as In rural free de livery. By bringing the city into close com munication with the country you destroy the tendency of the farm boys to gravitate to th cltlea; you give them all the infor mation they could obtain in the cities ex cept such as It Is not desirable for them to acquire; you enlist in them an active concurrence In political life, and whether they grow up aa democrats or republican they are likely to do so upon a sound thinking basis born of information. That la what rural tree delivery Is doing In the ducatlonal sense. Tho Commercial Benefits. In ths commercial aense it is achieving resulta even more apparent. Some time ago a distinguished democratic congress man from Missouri stated to the depart ment, that oae of his constituents was about to ship 100 head of fat stock to mar ket when, by the rural carrier, he was In formed that the market were glutted with fat stock at that time and that price had dropped 1 cent or more a pound upon the hoof. Ha withheld his shipment for three days, and then prices recovered, and h cleared at least 110 on every head of cattle that be shipped. This, as be after ward said, would enable him to pay the cost of rural fres delivery out of his own pocket If ths government chose to with draw It from him. In the value of farm lands there ha hnen an lncreaae of from 60 to 100 per cent In all districts where the rural free delivery serv ice has been established. Every kind of farming Industry la benefited by the rural fres delivery aervlco. Truck farmers know exactly what the prices are In the markets to which they ship their products. They are no longer at the mercy of their com mission merchants; they know what ths pries of every commodity they ship wss In the city to which they shipped it on tho date of the shipment. In some of the west ern states the value of farm lands has been nearly doubled by the Introduction of the rural free delivery aervlce. In point of fact tho conditions In those states where rural free delivery has been moat fully developed are such that the farmers scarcely know what to do with their aurplus funds. They have paid off their mortgagee, the banks do not want their money and they are simply Investing In surplus lands, hoping for continuance of the service and of the pros perity It baa brought. Oalaloaa of Farmers. Statements as to the beneficent effects of rural free delivery on the agricultural Interest do not ct me to the Postofflce de partment alone. The Department of Agrt culture some time ago sent out circulars asking farmers for their dispassionate opinion. In all the hundreds of replies re ceived only two were adverse, and they wers almost aa ludicrous aa the reply which thla office received from an old In diana farmer, who wrote: "We all want to go to town once In while. Mr. Postmaster General. I've got a good horse, but when I bitch up and say I am going to the poatofflce to aee if there la any mall. Maria saya, You needn t go John, the postman has brought the let ter.' " Among the answers that have been re reived by ths Agricultural department I farmer In Delavan, 111., wrltea: "In November I aold J. 000 bushels of corn; there was a difference of I cents bushel between the highest and loweat bid of six elevatora that are located within five miles of m. I consider a farm on a rural mall rcut worth 50 per cent more than a farm that Is not." Another In Kansas aays: "Perhapa ths greatest advantage Is in knowing the market prices each day. Th buyers her use Kansaa City markets as a baala for buvlna. and th farmers can he. and some of them are, Just as wall In formed aa anyone. 1 kaow of two that mad th price of their dally paper on on load of hog each." A farmer In Oregon atatea: "Befor free delivery was started thers Aak your jeweler for GORHAM Silver Polish It clean ai well a polishes All fronlle ceata a package Jewelers keep it J aegatir. were thirteen dally papers tsken at Tur ner postofflce. Today there are ill. This shows that the farmers are getting In touch with the world and are quick to avail themselves of all educational facili ties. With the geceral extension of mrsl mail delivery there will be toss talk about the monotony of farm life. The only b jectors sre small retailers of merchandise and dealers in liquors and tobacco. It may Injure the business of the latter since many farmers do not drink or smoke only when they go to the village, and their families got the benefit in more reading matter." Trom a rattle raiser In Nebraska this ' leply was received: ' Living nine olles from the ' postofflce, only getting our mail once or twice a week, then to bare a mall route so you can take a dally, is a blessing that a few years ago was not dreamed of. Other cat tle feeder as well as myself have driven dreds of miles for reports of stock markets that we now get dally." The influence of the rural free delivery ervlce in the promotion of the movement for the establishment of good roads la one f the most beneficent feature in its ad ministration. The files of the department contain hundreds of cases where roads have been Improved, bridges built and t reams, hitherto Impassable, made ford ble as a condition of the establishment rural free delivery aerrlee. This road Improvement will go on until every habit able,, portion of the United States will be covered by a dally mail service. R. J. WYNNE. TIIK IUSINES MAV9 DAY! Present Condition Compared with Those of Twenty Years Asa. Twenty yeara ago, says the St. Louis Republic, the St. Louis business man would ise very early, ride down town In a bob- all car, consuming nearly an hour to come In" from Grand avenue, enter hla office, take up his mall, which he enjoyed the privilege of opening himself, devote a large part of the day to answering it with his own pen, walk about the store. Inter viewing everybody from the engineer up. go to dinner not lunch with a "big" coun- ry customer, walk around to his banker's. drop In" at the hotels and generally look fter every end of the business himself. True, he had men working for him. but their functions were largely mechanical; they were working for blm; they had their orders from him; the whole burden really rested on his shoulders. A very glutton for work, he was salesman, drummer, office man, general superintendent and financier. He was beset with a harraaalng horde of details on every side, snd he rode back home on a late bobtail, bewildered, wearied and unatrung. Suppose the buay man to have remained In a Rip Van Winkle sleep for twenty years; suppose that he Just awakes this morning In his old residence near Grand venue. As he rubs his eyes the breath of chimneys rather than of fields comos to him; his ears are filled with strange noises of songs, the rattle of granite pavement; quiet Is broken by a tbouaand sounds. He Is in the heart of modern rapidity and Its ppllances. In a space of tea minutes the dased mer- hant is whiized down town In a queer horseless car; demon-like vehicles whirr past. If be survives the shock of odd ights and sounds, be will reach his office to find a complete revolution In business methods. Concentration of energy has been the order. Seated in a plush chair by a mahogany table, within reach of a finger-board of puah buttons, he will have his trifllngly small mall, already rifled by assistants, laid before him; In a moment a atenographer or phonograph haa recorded his verbal answers. A desk telephone is ringing at his elbow; through It be receives calls, and Is enabled to visit his bankers, h're or In New York, a Pittsburg or an East St. Louis factory, his warehouse, . hi friend at th hotel, agents anywhere, and to Interview a dozen people under his own vast roof all within on little hour. In short, with out turning In his seat, be may control everything; his offlc I a keyboard to which every part of th machinery re spond. He sees little of . men. Details If he cares particularly about aorue point let him press a button and Mr. X. appears at ones In respectful mien, with a head primed with Information. A customer? Oh, refer him to th credit man. A private secretary looks after miscellaneous callers. Hs must be a financier who penetrates th Inner sanctum. The Head of th corporation It was a one-man business or a partnership when he began th Rip Van Winkle nap find that his day's business Is pretty well cleaned up" - after two or three hours. Hs has time for a cigar and th news. Strang names appear in th paper con centratlon, combination, conaolldatlon. merger, community of latereats, pools Someone will have to tell him what thea mean. And who -Is this "Plerpont Mor gan" occurring so frequeutly In big typeT What are "captains of Industry?" Money Is expressed in "millions" and "billions" now; twenty years ago "thousands" was the word. Concentration of energy and brains will tell the whole story. Walking through th store the dazed merchant will find every where conserved energy and system. Th office boy 1 no longer untying th bundle string he ta slashing the knots at the rat ct 100 a minute. Time and labor are worth more than wasted string. Through the establishment old Ideas have given way to knew, looae methoda to perfect work lng machinery. The establishment that twenty years ago depended upon on head now has a hundred thinkers with it concerns. Improving Its system. The president will find a board of di rectors assisting him wltn tns manage ment, while he Is a member of many other beards. He will find that his own snd bis fellows' wealth. Indeed th whole coun try's wealth, has tripled within th twenty years and will learn that the wealthy and moat successful men of today are these who kept abreast of enterprise and have taken reasonable chances of trad coudltlons, as opposed to the ultraconaerv atlves and mere "human ssvlngs banks and that the fellows who kept in th o'd ruts are far behind the procession. Hs will discover a higher degree of Intelll gence in the average business man of the preaent. These are but a few of the Rip Van Winkle discoveries. Especially would he remark that competition ha multiplied and heightened In all branches of trad except where monopolies have throttled It and to strong competition he would no doubt trace much of th concentration In business methods snd th gradual perfec tlon of system In business. KALLISU HAIR ITOPPED. Balilneas tared fey Destroylaaj th Parasite Germ that t'asstt It. Baldneas follows falling hair, falling hair follows dandruff, and dandruff is the result of a germ digging Its wsy Into th seal to the root of th hair where It saps the vitality of the hair. To destroy that germ Is to prevent aa well as cur dandruff, fall lng hair, and, laatly, baldneas. There 1 only on preparation known to do that, Newbro's Herpictde, an entirely new, sciea ttflo discovery. Wherever it has been tried It haa proven wonderfully successful. can't be otherwise, because it utterly de stroys th dandruff germ. "You destroy th cause, you reiuov th effect." The Sisters By 3HAN F. BULLOCK, Author of "The Harrys." "By Thrasna Rlvrr," etc., etc. (Copyright, 1M, by Bban V. Bullock.) The nsme of one was Msry, of the other Jessie, snd they were sisters. Mary was the elder by nearly five years; Jessie, when first we see her, wss sged 1; between them were two brothers, of whom one had gone to America, the other to serve his apprenticeship in a shop In Clognecn. James, their father, a florid, bearded man of 80 or thereabouts, slow-moving. Indus trious, of Scotch descent, owned a farm on the outskirts of Armor, within sight of Emo; Hannah, their mother, was a tall, sallow woman, Irish born and bred, weak in health, keen of face and mind, worn, old and weary In constant household services. All day long James tramped the fields, toll ing, contriving, his heart burled in them; day and night Hannah padded through the house from room to room, cleaning, dust ing, ordering, and their lives were hard. But they did not complain. Indeed had small cauae of complaint. They had enough of the world's goods snd to spare. James was reputed a "warm" man, with money In the bank, and hla reputation through the countryside was sound. Hannah held a lit tle money in her own right and her stock of household gear of china, glass, ma hogany chairs and tables, feather beds and bleached linen was matchless In Armoy. It was good to go with James across his bountiful fields; pleasant to come back to tho cosy homestead, standing cosily on the high river bank, warm with good thatch. You found there that Ulster hospitality as worth while; knew then, once for all. why James and Hannah were respected through half a county and their daughters discussed round many a hearth. They were as unlike in every way aa sis ters could be. Mary was tall and atrong, pale, with a broad brow and deep hazel yes; Jessie waa slim and fair, with rosy cheeks, a pointed chin and dancing blue eyes. Mary you thought good-looking; Jessie you called handsome without re serve. Mary you found somewhat reserved, thoughtful, lacking in spirits; Jessie you saw In one glance a charming figure of life and gaiety. She laughed, chattered. Joked, flashed her eyes, was coy and de mur in turn, now daring In voice and look, now arching her neck In a mockery of haughtiness, now sitting like a nun. eyes downcast and hands folded by her plate. Her voice was sweet, her laughter Ippled like harp strings. She carried you out of yourself, took captive your manly heart; made you neglect the silent Mary with the deep brown eyes sitting placid beyond the table. It was common opinion In Armoy and beyond. It was the opinion of Hannah her self. Indeed of James also, when the fields gave him chance to think of such things that when the time came Jerale Grelg would marry quick and well, whereas, Mary's time, if not already past, would bo slow In coming. Who could resist Jessie; who not be attracted to her? She seemed to be born to love, fsted to play the candle to every moth that flew. Mary of a surety seemed not the marrying sort. You never saw her decked for conquest. Of Sundays she went soberly to church and prayed there; of market days sold her butter and eggs and hastened home. Men, for all Mary cared, might have been posts on the way- side or stones in the pavement; while Jes- le drew every eye. All the day found Mary helping In the house, or tolling In the dairy or the fields, and at eventlme she sat knit ting by the hearth, perhapa spent an hour in the garden or a lonely while by the riverside. Her life seemed dull and tame, shut In there among the- hills or Armoy away from the world; but surely ahe was content. Perhaps at times ahe hud her own longings, dreams, hopes; but she never voiced them. Silent, sober, placid, she made her dally rounds, wrapped close In herself; and the days went empty, and the years passed barren by her. And then, one day, sudden and unexpected, her hour struck. li lt waa In hot July. Jessie waa away In Dublin, making holiday there. A dry spell of weather had helped James with the hay making. Mary looked pale, he said, Han nah was ailing. So, one day, as It chanced, he persuaded them to take dlversicn wltn him at a race meeting In Glann. It waa th uaual hillside gathering; noisy, vivid with life and color, rows of Jaunting car around th course, booths, stalls, shooting gal leries, crowds of gaudy townfolk, bevies of roaring ruatlcs, a little sport, a power of fun; and Mary, sitting atlff on the gig. In muslin frock and atraw hat, aoon grew weary of It. Would It never end? thought Mary, alttlng there so patiently, never guessing what for her those weary hours held. How, Indeed) could she guess, how know that fata was lurking In that seeth ing crowd? Had Jessie been there doubt less she would have seen have seen him watching, seen blm pass and repass, his yes ever on Mary'a face, aeen him speak to Jamea and turn and stare, seen him stsnd at last, aa the gig went off, still watching silently but how waa poor Mary to aee or know? She expected nothing, looked for nothing; wanted only to b done and away. "Ah, the long, cruel day," sighed Mary, her eyes eager on th homing road; nor gueased that the day, so long and cruel bow lay like a shadow across her life. Two daya went unmarked; on the third cam he a tall man, ruaay ana wen favored, with blue eyes and wavy hair. Leaving hla horse at the gate, he atrode up th box-edged path, past th laurels and flower beds, knocked at the green door and stood watting on the step. Mary answered him. For a moment he looked at her, re calling her face and studying it; then, with his ready smlla and easy wav, asked for Jamea. He was In the meadows, answered Mary. Might he go to th meadows? Surely, aald Mary. Might he leave th horse? Why. to be sure, answered Mary, and dropped her eyes befor th quick In sistence of his gate, and turned away flush ing. It waa with her Just as though a man had looked In her eyes for the first time. Having atabled hi horse, George Hand (to give him his name), went to th mea dows; there found Jamea, held him In talk for awhile, then cam back with him across th hill, and sat down In th musk-scented parlor. He seemed pre-occupled, his tongue wandered; soon he pulled his chair nearer Jamea, spread his knees and leaned across them. "Mr. Grelg," said he, "y know who I am an' what I am. In our time we've had dealin'a with each other; we've alwaya been friends, an' I bop we'll never be else. Well, I'm com to y now on a curious arrand. Maybe you'll not thank me; maybe ye will; but" George paused, loath, you might think, to say hla word. Inueed. be was not at ease; was flushed and hesitant. In hla shirt sleeves, arms folded, knees crossed and straw hat poised upon them, Jsmes sat eyeing blm, a smile on bis rugged face. "Well, I'm llstenln. Mr. Hand." aald he, with a nod; and at that George plunged. "It's Just thla," be aald. "A day or so ago 1 met ye at th race beyond in Glann. I waa wss glad to see ye; but gladder. I'm of opinion, to see someon else. I watched her all day. A hundred times I was wishful to speak; twenty times I went searchln' for yourself, mesnin' to aak ye to to present me, an twenty times stopped at sight of y. I was loath. I waa tim orous. But now " Again George paused; again rushed his words "But now I'm come, Mr. Grelg. to ask your leave to pay her me respects." It was out st last; and. being out, George sat upright, hla eyes hard on James' fsre. James nodded, sat back In his chair and looked at the ceiling. "I know." he said. "Aye, I know." He looked at George. "It's my girl Msry ye moan, I suppose?" he asked. "It is." answered George. "I'm hearln' that'a her name." "To be sure," eaid James. "Why, to be sure now. Am I right In sayln' that so far you've no more than seen her?" "We passed a wrrd at tho door a while ago," answere George. "Yes, we did. I had half a mind to but I didn't. No, I Just waited for a word with yourself." "I know. Aye. Aw, to be sure." James sat considering, a hand tapping the crown of his hat, that slow smile playing on his face. "Well." said he In a mtnuir, "as ye say, Mr. Hand, it's curious, an' it's sudden; but" It was his turn to hesitate. "Oh, It't your own business; I'm of opinion. If so be you're sure o' yourself, an " "I'm certain sure." "ald George. "Her face is burnt in me. I've seen It day an' night ever since. First sight of It under that big hat. an' it so pale and' tired like took the heart In me. Am, I'm certain aure " "I know." James nodded his full under standing. "An you'd be wishful to try your arts upon her?" "With your good leave, sir." "An" you'd mean well, an' you'd do well by her, if so be-; " "Mr. Grelg," said George, "I'm a man ye ran trust. I mean well an' I'll do well. Just a I am your daughter'll sco me. She can Judge for herself. I'll come open, handed, leavln' all I've got at her two feet; an' her wish'll be mine. All I want Is a chance," said George; then he, being an Ulster man. and having therefore a.i eye to business even in love affairs, went In to refer, handsomely enough, to hia ex pectations in the matter of dowry. But James would not hear him. "Leave that till afterward," he said, and rose frowning. "Time enough to buy the salt when you've caught your fish." Hannah took the news kindly (as waa her way) and thankfully (as well she might); one thing only she counseled George, even as. James had counseled, that he should go warily. Mary was strange In her nature, said Hannah; was shy, was self-willed, wss little used to men and their ways, wanted leading, wanted humoring. "You'll find her a good girl. Mr. Hnnd though dear knows I'm not the one should say It a better wlfo or housekeeper no man In the world could find. Her butter gets top price in the market, her bread's the sweetest ever waa baked, with needlo or crochet hook she's Just matchless." "Ma'am," said George, "I can well be lieve It." "All I can say Is this, Mr. Hand an God knows I say it from me heart she's as good a girl as ever tireathed, an' I wish her th best in life. Ah, I'll be sorry to lose her," sighed Hannah. "I will, I will. For all that " "Ma'am," said George, "it's the way of the world. Trust . met Mrs. Grelg; trust, me. An may God prosper the match." "Amen," was Hannah's word; and the thing was settled. ""1.; There temalned only Mary to be con sidered; and with he"'!! did cunningly, went softly, - v. arUy.ljv strict accord with rules laid down.. Jarata kept to the field and meddled nothing. Hannah dropped wise hints, precepts, hopes;, gave George good welcome, shook a . warning finger at tho door and left Mary to his care. , Every op portunity be had, every good wish, and he took them bravely. Never waa more thoughtful .lover or dipcreeter. Mary had but to sit demure. In parlor or kitchen, at table or window; Just sit and be .wooed. Nothing to do but listen and watch, smile; laugh, be agreeable as she might, George did everything. His ways were mighty pleasant. Before a week ha bad Hannah at his feet, had James In chains, had Mary- It took longer than a week to charm Msry's heart. Meek though she was and I docile, unsophisticated, backward; yet be- lllnff ftiafr lllm tiv-itw mam rr a n w r t will o n ,1 her eyea were very deep. Others might propose; before her the path might be laid smooth; but, after all, (he dlspojlng was hers, and no leading might persuade her to walk that path blindfolded. She read be neath her mother's hinting and her father's silence; sat wide-eyed before the man George, seeing him plainer, maybe, than he knew. Now and again It happened that Mary aat watching him, wondering In her self whether some day change might come. Suppose Jessie were there beside him? Suppose a year gone by? Suppose them always together, face to fare at the same table, living always under tha same roof from morning to night? Was his admira tion genuine and hla soft speech and him self? Did ha really car for herself, her own dull self, or was It Just a fancy that might pass, or worse, a liking that owed something to what she might bring money. help, youth? These things Mary asked of herself sometimes, as she lay thinking be neath the thatch, went soberly her dally round In house and dairy, stood leaning across the gate below the solemn stara when George had gone. But ah, he was kind and pleasant; doubts and all, she liked him very well. No one was perfect. Her doubts were foolish, unjust. She longed for him to come; missed him when he went 81owly but surely her fondness for him grew, day by day, night by night; and at laat one evening early In September, by the river bank, and under the stars, he asked and ahe gave heraelf to him. "Mary," be said, "I'm little to have and nothing to boast about; but such as I am will ye take me for your man? Will ye. Mary? Ah, will ye. Mary?" She atood quite a minute, looking out through the twilight, flushed, tremulous, not doubting now, but halting ere ahe gave. "Will ye, Mary? Ah. girl. girl. Tell me, Mary tell me?" 8h turned quickly. "I'm here. George," said she; and gave herself to Ms arm. III. That same week Jessie rame home fresh from the sights and pleasures of old Dub lin. Her stay there had changed her much: had rubbed away some of the hillside rough ness, given her the air of one who had seen life and the world. She minced her words now, stepped daintily; bad something of scorn In ber way of looking at vulgar coun try ways and thlnga. Everything was so different In Ralhmlnes; Grafton street sod ths Phoenix seemed heaven In sight of Burn sidewalks and the rush-colored hills. Ah, the things she had seen snd done the thesters, the shops, the parties, days by the sea. trips to the Dargle such times and fun! Days it would taks to tell about It all. Hertpoor head was Just In a whirl. Let Mary put away that stupid knitting and com upstairs and see ber new dress and hat, those shoes and gloves, the pres ents she had had, the book and music and photographs. Whew! the stuffy hot room It was. ao small and dingy; and th bare floor, the cracked celling, the narrow little bed? "Ah. Mary, dear." cried Jessie, sink lng by her bog oa th boards, "1 11 never get used to It never, never in this life." And she wept at the chance. In a while, however, her tears dried; and presently, the wonders of the box be ing exhausted. It came to ber that Mary was also changed. Her voice was softer, her laugh happier; she looked younger, anl her eyes shone strangely. What had hap pened? Of a sudden she sat bark on her heels, folded hands, anl looked Mary In the face. "Mary," she said, "what's come over you? What has happened? One would think to see you some one had died en' left you a legacy. What Is It?" Mary laughed; her eyes End a flush rose to her face. Nothin", Jessie," she answered. "Oh. no'hln'." "nut there Is somethln'. Tell me quick. Iok at you blashin' there like a " With a rush Jessie rose, stooped over Mary with a hand on each shoulder. "I know," she cried. "You're in love. Look at me, miss; look up an' tell me." Mary looked up; she answered nothing, but her eyes told. Slowly Jesie swayed her to and fro: grarrly stood shaking her own wise head from side to side. "You cruel, cruel girl." she said; "never to tell me one worn: 10 mina 01 u; 10 tninn 01 comln' home to this' I could shake you. Mary, for a sly, deslgnln" minx. I could " Phe sprang away and cut a fling across the flior, clapping hands and capering. "Hur rah! A wi-ddln' in the family! An' I'll be bridesmaid, an" I'll wear white muslin " Back In a whirl she rame and dropped on her knees before Mary. "But who Is he?" she cried. "Where does he. come from? Do 1 know him? What la he like? Tell me, tell me quick or I'll Just die," cried Jessie, In her old Impetuous way. Dublin and Its wonders now flung aside; "tell me. tell me," she cried; nor drew calm breath till Mary, as best she might, had fold her all. Then sinking back on the f.oor, she clasped her knees with her hatids and sat looking nt Mary, head on one side and eyes critical. Mrs. Georne Hand," she said. "Well, tho name will become you, Mary; an' mar ryln' will suit you; on' an' I'm glad as glad." Phe kissed Mary; then sighed and looked at the window. "But think of losln' you; think of beta" left here all by myself. Ah. me, the changes that will come! An' to think, too. that It's you who goes first you you " She looked round. "When will I see him?" the asked, rascrly. "What! This very nigh'., maybe. Oh, glory, glory. I'm dyln'to sec him dyin'." And springing to her feet Jessie hastened to find her new est town. That evening then as Mary and George eat together in the parlor, exchanging sweet nothings and hand in hand, the door opened and lu came Jessie, stepping gra ciously (like some heroine In a play) through the twilight. Adorned from head to heel she came; greeted George pleasantly, swept to a chair and gave him her eyes. Poor Mary, there In her dim corner, could but stare; sudden sight of this radiant vision made George gasp in his chair. He felt tongue-tied, awkward: scarce could take eyea from her face. When Mary spoke (which was seldom) he looked round, smiled and nodded; but Jessie's chatter drew his ear. Indeed, Hhe seemed to fill tho room, demanded attention and admira tion. She talked of Dublin and Its won ders, and her voice was sweet; told of ber adventures, snd her eyes were bright; bent over the table, when candles were lit and supper laid, quite charming In her sparkle of youth. Mary sat eclipsed, content enough. proud of this dashing sister, asking of George only an occasional glance, a whis pered word. "Mary," said he at the gate that night beneath the solemn stars, "that sister of yours Is a kind of miracle. She has the spirits of a lark; an' sure she takes one off their feet." He caught her arm and stopped. "I'm thlnkln' It's well I laid eyes on yourot.lf first." Mary looked up, her eyes grave In the starlight. "Ye wish I waa like her, George?" she asked in her sober way. "Like her?" Qeorgo held his answer for a breath. Did he wish it? "Now," said he. faith I don't. Woman, dear, you're worth houseful of her. Whisht now, with your solemn face. Just kisa mo. an' away into your bed; an' expect me In a night or two. Good night, me own Mary." He kissed her and tramped oft between the hedges, whis tling gaily, thinking of Ma.-y, thinking of Jessie. But Mary stood lonely by the gate, thinking only of him. Ah, she liked him well. How happy she wss, how con tent. Life seemed Just beginning. A month ago bow dull waa the world; now what bounty It held! "George, George," ahe said, her thoughts following him along the road; "God keep you, my own boy, an make me worthy of ye." She bowed her head upon the gate. Tears came. George's whistle died out In the silence of the hills. Then a quick step sounded behind on the path, and JegBle came tripping to ber aide, a-flutter with mischief. "I saw you. I was watchln'. Ob, you're a sly pair. Kisslu' at the gate, indeed, like Pat an' Biddy. Just wait till I see him again; my word, won't I tease him." Mary did not answer; so Jessie stopped. "Mary," ahe whispered, "he'll do. I wish you Joy. He's Juat the kind I'd choose myself." The words came lightly; hut somehow they fitted ill with Mary's humor. With out answering them, she turned from the gate. "It's late," said she, "an' I'm tired. Aren't ye comln' to bed, Jessie?" IV. If Jessie in tho daya that followed, did not twist George round her fingers, at least, he held him submissive between them, captive yet not a prisoner, free yet not unbound. All was open as the sun. They meant nothing. Soon their ways must psrt. Jessie would find another moth, George cease his circling and flutter down. Winter was coming, so dull and cold; life was short the sunshine fleeting; let them, then, whilst yet there was chance, enjoy these golden harvest days. So they took chance by the band. And time flew. And Hannah sat wondering end Jamea consider ing. And Mary? Well, aa you know. Mary waa not one to claim much consideration. She was easily satisfied, expected little; gave more than she was likely to receive. Perhaps love made ber blind; perhaps she was by nature so faithful a soul and so trusting at heart that she gave others credit for a faithfulness and trust which they did not possess. Entirely ahe had given herself to George; Implicitly did sh believe oh, as she believes In God that be was her very own. It was natural that George should admire Jessie and be ber good friend. Everyone was. It was natu ral that Jessie should divert herself with George, should attract his attention, de mand his company, laugh with him, sing chatter, attend him even to local dance and concert,, sail with him on the river drive out with him. accompany him to fair and meeting. She herself was dull, was buay, had hardly a minute to spars nowadaya from the service of th needle. There was much to do, much to prepare for that blessed time lying there In next spring. Still still, well sometimes she thought a hint from Hannah having maybe struck home, or a word of Jessie's, or of George's that perhapa all wss not quit as It should be. Wss Oeorge changing In bis manner toward her? Wss he cold at times. Irritable; wss he tiring of her, giv ing to Jessie time and attention which once he had given only to her? Why did sh lie awsks at nights sometimes, thinking, think lng. fearing, dreading? Was It? Ob, no, no! She was wicked l" doubt. She must trample fears under foo . i et her mother quit hinting. Let berse.f be content. She wss thrice blessed. George was th same. How often when he bade her goodby st th gat, and ahe ifroks duubUDfciy, did he chase doubt In the old hearty way? "Mary, dear, have wit. Girl, you're the one woman In the world. Ah, den t be wor rying your eolemn bead. I'm Just the same only better. There now, kiss nie an' away to your bed an' be expectln' mc soon." And Mary would kiss him: then stanj happy at the gat looking at the siars. listening to Ms w histle, th'nklrg of the days that rcre coming. V. On a day in October a laggard day of And the rest? Well, Jessie ! roarrkd Irish summer. al:n and beautiful Mary I brpy. lUnnah la dead. James Is grow -and Jessie and George went off for a drive , r,g feeble. Mary can never be quite strong: together. Down the Burn read they went, j but George, (hastened now end repentant, past Armoy and Gorteen. turned at Lee- i iv0, n nof,e that some day she may be mere rrcsswaye, and skirting the wilds cf the old Mary, strong, glad, trustful "the Aranui came at last to the mountain and , began Its asrent. Half way up the rugged path they left horse and car st a farm house, then toiled on foot to th summit. Jessie flowed with good spirits, mischie vous as a klitcn. lithe and beautiful as a fav. n fascinat lng In her sweet youth and doKirnblr. George, too, war on the helrhts of glory pi rhaps higher th.m the heights gay, manful, hearty. Even Mary felt car ried out cf herself, bright and glao, her full heart overflowing Its harplticss upon her face. Hut th" way was long, her strength failed at last: so on the mountain top she sat down among the hea'her to rest. Anl the others wandered away. After awhile, she having recovered j strength, und taken cVcp of the day's I bounty. Mary rose and idly went through I the heather, slowly, hnprily, Just seeing and admiring. The air was wonderful; a ! great peace brooded beneath the sun. No I one was in sight. The world seemed I empty. Full cf gladness Mary sauntered , along; all suddenly stopped quick at slsht j of Jesaie and George seated In a hollow ' that lay within n clump of firs. j mey were nose togomer; Jessie leaning , against a stump, hands smoothing a ribbon In her hat and eyes bent upon them; Oeorge lying besldo her, resting on nn el bow, feet crossed and his eyes on her tare. Thry were not speaking. A score of timea had Mary seen them side by side and given no heed; but now she heeded much. A sudden pain struck her heart. Her breath faltered. In an Instant ahe waa changed, and her life was changed, and she stood black with suspicion, racked, atrlcken, the house of her trust crumbled miserably down. What change! Dear heaven, what agony of change! Five minutes went minutes black with the agony of ages. Still they did not speak. But soon, as Mary watched, Jessie's hand fell bealde her, and with that George seized her hsnd, scrambled to his knees and broke into pro testationsmiserable protestations that lnshed Mary's heart. Dear God, that she should live to hear them! Listen, listen. The same words; tho words which but yes terday bad been only for her; and now now Ah! was it possible? Could that be George? That be Jessie? This be her very self? Listen, listen! "Jessie," be says, "before God I swear to you that you're tho one woman In the world for me. I swear It. Ah, listen to me, Jessie. Don't turn from me. Don't blame me for Mary's sake. Dear knows I pity her but I can't help It. I can't. You make me, Jessie. Y'ou're the one woman " Oh, that again! It was pit iful. It waa unbearable. Then, blessedly, maybe, of a sudden darkness blotted tho sunshine and Mary lay still. When light came back the hollow v. as empty. Weak and sick at heart, Mary rose and went stumbling through the heather, down toward the farm house, her one desire now being to get home. But presently the two saw her; soon they Joined her; with out word or look Mary hurried oa, face set hard, hands clenched, her heart Ilk stone. And. behind the others stepped guiltily with averted eyes. They reached the farm house, and there the two stopped to get, the car, but Mary went on down the lane, hurrying hurrying on. Her brain burnt; her heart was ice. "Let me get home," she thought; "oh, dear God, let me only get home get home!" Like a hunted creature she went stumbling over the stones, stumbling and hurrying blindly. Nearlng the highway, however, and close to a spot where the lane turned sharp to the left, a clamor arose on the slope behind. Shouts and crlea came, a rumbling of wheels, a pounding of hoofs, and turning, Mary saw the car come tearing down with only Jessto In It, and George running be hind, shouting and waving bis arms. The horse was galloping. The car came thun dering over tha stones. Jolting and swaying, Jessie sat pulling at the reins, arms out stretched and face white above them. Well might she be pale, well might George rave, for the turning was there, and black ruin near it. Ruin? Perhaps death? Yes; Mary ssw well. In a flash all was clear to ber. The horse was beyond control. George could do nothing. At the turning something dreadful must happen. Already Jessie had dropped the reins, and now sat covering her face, shuddering from whst lay before ber. Only one chance was there that Mary Bhould stand In the way. Then perhaps the horse mlg'ut swerve, or stop, or col lapse before It came to that fateful turning. Only a chance a poor chance yet, yet Why should Mary stand in tho way' Why risk life for a chance a mlaerablo chance of saving the life of this Jessie whom she hated? Her chanco Jessie had wrecked, her life had blighted, and here was revenge. Justice, heaven's own opportunity of repay ing all, of ending all. Ouly to stand aside, to wait a minute longer Ah, the shame, the ahanie! Nerving her self, Mary stepped into the middle pf the lane, and spiead her arms, and shouted loud. But Juat too late. For though chance served, and the horse swerved and fell, and the car collapsed and Jossle escaped, Mary'a wmmh f PA' Will " The beginning of baldness Is dandruff. Dandruff Is a disease and can be cured. ' it, Cure the disease that caused dandruff. And the dandruff will disappear for good. Use only some old established remedy. We know one tested for more than 50 years Ayer's Hair Vigor It cures dandruff, checks falling, makes the hair grow, always restores color to gray hair. Ayer's Hair Vigor bat cured mr acalp of a bad case of dandruff. It is a delightful preparation to use." j. o. A? c. . iwu. Sf Mr' L' H Budd oo Springs. N. Y. own chance did not serve. Her decision came a thought too late. Po that In falling the horse struck hrr and swept her down. They picked Mary up and took her home; and for weeks rhe lav at death dnr. Day and night Jessie stood against the door, striving to keep It shut; while Hannah and Jamea and George watched constant, they ; asking God to ho merciful God was merol- fill. Slowly Mary rame back to some i shadow of her olJ self; then hissed Jessie, j snd smiled upon George, and all as well ' again. 0ne woman In the world." Ahnt I tiltnno tSrtpf r.ieumonla often, but never whrn Dr. King's New Discovery for Consumption la used. It cures cold and grips. f0e, $1. For sale by Kuhn & Co. MKT A K K I II lKOW j, Younit t.nnser'a tdtrntnrr llnri n Most Startling' Finale. "Tho other night." said a young lawyer, quoted by the Washington Post, "I had the moft strenuously exciting experience I have ever encountered, and even now I feel as exhausted as though 1 hnd lost a hard fought ease. It was shortly after 6 o'clock, and I bad just reached the club, when right out hero at the curb stood, ap i arentlv waiting for some one. the awellest of a ,,,, At mv appi nran. n down ,prilllR ,,, f0tman und explained to mo ,,1t lnKlrtl. the carriage wished to prlk to mr ,, p,.o,.,.,.ded to open the door Thp mv ryt,. bph).id t00 n,0(,t beau tiful islon 1 have ever seen. Pho was a girl of not more than 2rt, with clear, rosy complexion, dark ovea that you could Im- , aglne teasing you, first loading'you on, then throwing you over, but at all times beau tiful. Her hair was coal black nnd dressed " In a foreign way. with tortoise shell combs. Her lountenanre had a Florentine mold, and when 1 met those beautiful dark eyes In response to my Low I thought her charming and h r manner perfect. She had the absolute cfc which you find In real aristocrats. "The picture has been in my mind all day. and it is next to impossible to rid myself of her. To return to the Incident, I bowed and stood, hat In hand, awaiting or ders, for It was not my good fortune to bo favored by an acquaintance with her. In my most courteous manner I Inquired if I could In any way be of service to her. " 'Yes; Indeed you may,' said the girl. 'I have heard so much of you nd your great ability that I wish to consult you concern ing a matter that Is of paramount import ance to me. Won't you get In and drive with me, Mr. Black?" She had my name all right. " 'Besides,' she continued, 'I feel that I already know you. Dear Jack speaks of you so often and tells so many funny things about your last year at college. Of course, you remember Jack?" "You can Just about believe I waa the happiest man on earth, and fairly beggared the English language telling her so. I could not land Jack, and didn't try to. I was breathing the delightful atmosphere of that drive, and unscrupulously adopted ev ery meana by wVch tho moments could bo prevailed upon to stsy their fflght. But at last her homo was reached, nnd I knew it was up to me to say farewell. "But the fates favored me, and In spite of my explanation about not being dressed for dinner, I was told that I must 'come right In,' and that I did. We had been seated In tho parlor only a short while when my new friend said I must moet papa and mamma, and that sho would leave me with them while sho dressed for dinner. Very soon 'father' and 'mother' ai peared, and I was presented to them as 'one of Jaik'a college chums,' after which my fair charmer left, only to appear somo moments later, more entrancing than before. "During her absence ber father confided to me that of late he and his family were greatly distressed concerning his daugh ter's health, and anxiously Inquired If I had noticed anything strange or unusual In her manner. Well, I had my own Ideas of her manner, becauae I wr.s simply en chanted, and I aasured the old gentleman I had not, and wss Indeed pained to learn, of his daughter's 111 health. "Juat then the vision of beauty appeared, and ahe was so beautiful that I absolutely lost all knowledge of her mental suffering. Her father soon left the room, and I was again happy. I had noticed one peculiar thing, though. The girl had never removed her hands from behind bur since she ap peared in the dsjprway, and I was Just try ing to account for this strange attltudo when, to my utter amazement, he cried o-.t: " 'Now, I have you at last, and Juat where t want you ' She approached me with a atealthy tread: I protested wildly at first, and suggested that she be seated, and I would summon assistance If she were 111, and I feared she was. "But she wsved me aside and assured me she wss 'quite well' snd strong. Where 'upon sho drew from behind her a revolver. 'Now,' she said, pointing It straight at mc, 'throw up your hands.' " The listeners were breathless, ami st this Juncture strained every nerve. With the narration of hlr experience the young lawyer showed great emotion, and now he evinced great feeling. "Go on." said hla friends. ' Well," continued the young lawyer, "slm said 'throw up your hands.' I did, and struck the headboard to hard 'hat I woke dp." m-y an P .V ibmmm mm ft i -i.T5.;li.'