Newspaper Page Text
*^s A STORY OF TI
W By EBEN E.
Copyright by Robert Bonner's Sons.
CHAPTER IV. ]
"I want to know if you think so!"
exclaimed Nannie, with a defiant toss
of her head. She had felt what was
coming, and dreaded it, for she knew
that she^iad been to blame. "I wasn't
aware that I had 'met with a change,'
as Deacon Snyder says."
"You know what I mean, well
enough," said Dick, hitching his chair
Dearer tne taoie wnere i>auiiie wua
standing. "Since?since that Wayne
came you seem to Lave forgotten that
there is such a fellow as Dick Brayton. .
Why, Nannie, you hardly speak to me,
"Just hear that!" cried Nannie, to
Borne invisible person. "Hardly speak
to you, indeed! I'm sure I've spoken
to you as often as you have spoken to
"Well, yes, that may be," admitted
Dick. "But, you see, Nannie, I didn't
feel like talking, when I didn't know
as you wanted me to talk to you. It
seemed as if you'd rather listen to Mr. .
"It seems that you're a kind of jealous
of Mr. Wayne," said Nannie, folding
the towel she was ironing with slow
and elaborate precision, as if all her
energies were concentrated on doing
that one thing.
"Well, that may be," said Dick. ;
"Granting that it is so, Nannie,
haven't I a right to be?"
"Not that I know of," answered
"Before he came I supposed it was
nnderstood between us that we were
to be married, some time," said Dick. ;
"Persons haven't any right to take
it for granted that anything is understood,"
responded Nannie, tartly. '
"You never asked me to marry you,
that I remember of."
"Perhaps I was wrong in not saying
in so many words what it seemed to J
me you understood well enough,"
answered Dick. "It seemed hardly '
necessary. However, it isn't too late ,
to ask the question now, is it Nannie?"
"I don't know what you're hinting j
it," said Nannie, beginning to hum a .
tune, and concentrating her attention
vnfflna nf a nillnw-OftfiA. '
"Just this," said Dick. "That I
love you and want you to marry me.
"Why, Djck, how abrupt you are!"
ixclaimed Nannie. "I don't want to
marry you?or any on? else?yet
"Don't keep a fellow waiting to know
;he worst or the best," said Dick, impatiently.
"Is it yes or no, Nannie?"
"I?I like you pretty well, "answered
Nannie, "but I don't want to settle
flown to washing dishes and sweeping
floors and cooking things to eat three '
iimes a day, and nothing else from }
morning till night, for a long time yet.
[ want to' see a little of the world. I
im going to coax father to let me go to 1
3chool this winter. I don't much think 1
" i i 1 : ??/I ;t
I'll 11K6 liuuscn.ccpiii5, ouj ?tcij , nun u
it's a housekeeper you're -wanting, I
think you eau find one that will answer
the purpose a good deal better
than I would. There's Lucindy
"Hang Lucindy Smith!" exclaimed
Dick, beginning to lose his temper.
"Yes or no, Nannie?"
"No, then," answered Nannie, her
temper rising in opposition to Dick's.
"That's the way to talk," cried
Dick. "Say what you mean, square
out, and don't waste words beating
about the bush, even if it does hurt a
fellow a little to hear it."
He got up, took' his hat down from
its peg by the door and went out.
"I?I hope you don't blame me,
Dick," said Nannie, following him to
the door, feeling as if she would like
to cry, and, at the same time, partly
"Yes, I do," answered Dick. ? "I
have reason to, too, and you know it
as well as I do. But we won't talk
about it. It's over and done with."
Then he turned and walked down
the path, and it was late at night before
he came back and went to bed.
"What queer things men are!" Nannie
said to herself as she cried herself
to sleep. "I know I didn't do just
right; but he needn't have been so
jealous, and he needn't have been so
foolish as to think a girl means everything
THE RIVALS COME TO BLOWS.
A week went by.
At the end of that time Nannie had
come to the conclusion, from Dick's
actions, that he considered everything
at an end between them, as he had
said. He spoke to her pleasantly
enough, when he spoke at all. He
did not seem to try to avoid her, but
there was a sense of distance between
them which made her feel that he'was
more like a stranger than the Dick
Brayton she had known. That Dick
was gone. This one was like him,
and reminded her of liiin in many
wnys, but she missed the Dick of two
Considering her unqualified refusal
of his heart and hand, it was rather
singular that she should be indignant
at him for not seeming to grieve over
her rejection more. She felt that he
ought to show great disappointment
ATWI /lucnmulonf ouil ltu/Mincii
he (lid not she felt personally ag- I
grieved. He bad altogether too good
an appetite for a rejected lover, and
he didn't seern inclined to withdraw
from society, as it seemed to her he
ought to, under the circumstances. She
began to think that he hadn't cared as
much for her as she had thought he
did, and felt offended because of it.
* He seemed to take a real pleasure in j
talking with Rhoda Stevens at singingschool,
and he went home with her
twice a week. Why this should have j
worried Nannie, since she had refused |
in JTKU1N 1 1CK.
www*. e* \
to receive his attentions, I cannot e
plain; but she (lid. She really felt i
if she hated Rlioda and never want?
to speak to her again.
"It looks as if both on 'em w<
a-playin' at the same game," she heai
Mrs. Corbett say. to Mrs. Smith, 01
uight at singing-school, "an' I kindi
surmise Dick's got the start of he
'Tain't anyways likely as Mr. "Wayne
marry her, an' 'twouldn't be at a
s'prisin' if Dick did marry Rhody, f<
he's alius had a kind o' likin' fer he
Wall, if Xance loses him she'll hev n
body to blame 'but herself, fer Die
'u'd hev stuck by her if she hade
-i 1 ??
piajrcu Uf-i UI1 U1UI, uc^iu nnu,
On Sunday evening Uncle Josia
Watkins came in to spend an hour <
two at Mr. Boone's hospitable heart!
Uncle Josi was everybody's relativ
You will always find these uncles an
aunts in all country places. He wi
one of those men who always kno
what is going on from one end of tt
neighborhood to the other, and it wj
his particular delight to keep ever
body well posted as to what was takir
place. He was to Brownville what tt
daily mail is to us of to-day, and i
everybody liked the old man, he wi
always sure of a welcome wherever 1
"Try some o' this terbacker," sai
Mr. Boone, taking down a big browi
paper parcel from the shelf over tt
~ ~ 11 -1?/lAtrm lkftln
tenar-uuur. vjuu it num uvuu uviv
this week. It's better than Jon<
sells. It's stronger an' more satisf1
Uncle Josi produced a corn-co
pipe and filled it leisurely. He wt
never in a hurry about anything whe
he had something to tell. When 1
had filled the pipe, he raked a coi
out of the ashes and deposited it o
the tobacco. After a few vigoroi
"draws" the tobacco ignited, and as
blue cloud of pungent smoke curie
about his head, life leaned well back i
his chair and prepared to take h:
ease and retail his stock of news. "I
heerd from my son Philand<
last week," he said by and by, aft(
all the neighborhood happenings ha
been discussed. "My son Philander,
he explained to Mr. Wayne, who hn
also "dropped in" to spend the evei
Lng, "he lives at Catfish Corner:
twenty-five miles oft', I reckon, ai
mebbe more. Do you know jest lio
fur't is, Solomon?"
"No, I don t, jest," answered Mi
Boone; "but I sh'd reckon 't was i
much as twenty-five miles, if n<
furder. It's a right smart ways, ani
how. Leastwise, it seemed so to m
las' spring when I druv home froi
there -through the mud jest as't w?
"Wall, 't ain't less'n twenty-fiv<
unyway," said Uncle Josi, looking t
the fire, as if he wished it would te
him the exact distauce. "But, as
was sayin', I heerd from Philandei
an' he writ that they'd lost every hos
as was wuth anything in the who]
"You don't say so!" exclaimed M:
Boone, greatly interested at o'nc<
"Hoss distemper or glanders?"
"Wuss'n that," answered Unc!
Josi, mysteriously. "Wuss'n tlia
"Ef there's anything wuss'n ho.1
distemper I'd like to know what't is,
said Mr. Boone.
''Hoss-thieves ailed 'em," announce
Uncle Josi, with a very impressive no
of his head and speaking slowly, thi
they might fully understand tl
magnitude of his information. "J
hoss-thieves ain't wuss'n hoss di
temper, I allow I don't know whi
" 'Hoss-thieves!'" Mr. Boone r
peated the words, as if he could hard]
credit the statement, and as if thei
was an ominous foreboding of dangi
to Brownsville in it. In those da^
nothing could excite a frontier settl
ment like the report of depredatioi
by horse-thieves. "Why, I haiu
heerd anything o' hoss-stealing' fer
long time?not sence the fust year
"No, I know we hain't heerd c
'em in this part o' the kentry
answered Uncle Josi. "Fust they wi
over in the east part o' the State, a
then in the southeast, an' so on 'roum
It's my opinion that all the hossi
that's b'en stole' have be'n picked 11
by the same gang that's kep' a-movi
'round the kentry from one place
another when it got too hot fer 'er
an' now they've got to the place whe:
my son Philander lives. They'll 1
here fust thiug ye know."
"I'd hate awfully to lose Doll a
Nell," said Mr. Boone, as he refill*
his pipe thoughtfully. "I would so
Nell and Doll were probably wort
more than any ether four horses
"I jest wish we could git holt o' tl
tarnal thieves," said Uncle Jo?
??'ni >/i i.?
J.UCJ H UC jJUl IJ apt l\J UU T JU.1U1
done 'em, ef we could, I reckon. Bla
their picters, I hain't no kind o' p
tience with 'em! Thieves is bt
enough, but hoss-thieves is the wu
kind o' the whole lot."
"I allow you're right," respond*
Mr. Boone, with several emphat
nods of his head. "Yes, sirree; they
be purty likely tohev justice dune 'e
ef we could jest git our han'a on 'e
"What would the justice you ref
to consist in?" asked Wayne, w]
had seemed to be a careless and ind
ferent listener to the conversation.
"A rone." answered Uncle Jo.'
sententiously, with a tap of his crooki
forefinger against liis neck, to int
cate where the application of the rei
edy would be made.
"Seems awful to think o' hangi
'em." said Mrs. Boone with a shu
"Good enough fer 'em," said Unc
Josi, warmly. "Good enough fer 'er
I say. I hain't no pity to waste <
hoss-thieves. Not a mite! Not
mite! Wouldn't lift n finger to save ;
/ 'em from liangin' ef I knew I could
^ save 'em. That's what I think about
'em. Other folks can think as they
see fit, but I say hang 'em jest as fast
as vou ketch 'em."
" 'First catch your hare,'" laughed \
Wayne, quoting from au old recii>e in i
Dick had been listening to the conversation
without taking part in it.
Wayne happened to look at him and |
saw that his rival was watching him j
"What is your opinion?" he asked
with a half-insolent smile.
? "If you were a horse-thief I'd show
n you," answered Dick, curtly. He
cared to have nothing to say to the
singing-teacher. He was irritated by
v. i,;a ni>ooonoa in tlifl ronm. To be
as spoken to by him roused a quick anger
:d in him, which would not be kept
is A hot color flamed into Wayne's face
d for a moment. He liked Dick no betie
ter than Dick liked him, and the other
er's reply stung him into quick rer.
sentmeut, for some reason. But he
'11 seemed to think it not advisable to
.11 bandy words at that time and place,
ar and he made no response,
r. Presently Dick got up and went
o- out. He was leaning over the gate,
;k whistling a fragment of the dolorous
>'t tune of "Barbara Allen," when Wayne
came sauntering down the path, perih
haps half an hour later.
ir "If you'll be so kind as to get out.
* " Al 1, 4-1.^4- >?
2. oi me way, jl 11 iuiuu^u iuai jjuit,
e. he said imperiously.
id Dick pretended not to hear him.
is "Did you hear me?" demanded
w Wayne, angrily.
ie "Did you say anything?" asked
is Dick, coolly, without offering to move.
y- He -was aching for a quarrel with
ig "Wayne, and it seemed as if one was
ie near at hand. The hitherto repressed
is dislike of each for the other was ready
is to culminate in an angry outbreak,
ie now that the opportunity was favora- j
id "Yes, sir; I did speak to you," an
-I- 8WW6U wajuo, JLiuu^uuijt K;iuuu
le aside and let me pass."
w "You can climb over," said Dick,
is with most provoking coolness.
7- "I don't choose to," responded
"Well, then, go around or crawl
l9 through the fence, if you like that
,n better," said Dick.
ie "I shall go through that .gate,"
al said Wayne. "I don't want any of
,n your insolence. I know why you feel
l3 so sore, and I can't say that I wonder
a at it."
d "If you don't keep a civil tongue in
n your head, you'll be likely to feel
[g sore!" cried Dick, facing about. "Do
you know what you're saying?"
;r "Perfectly well," answered Wayne,
;r defiantly. "When a girl gives a fel(|
low the mitten, I suppose it does cut
? him a good deal. You have had the
<2 experience lately. How is it?"
1. He accompanied the words with a
, low, sneering laugh to which his
a' anger gave a grating edge.
w "See here," cried Dick, with a dangerous
fire in his eyes, "I'll Btand no
r< more of your insolence! If Nannie
IS I Boone sees fit to throw ine over for j
such a fellow as you are, all right; but
r_ I neither you nor any other fellow will
ie twit me of it, as you Jtiave just uoue,
a without -something happeuing to him. j
lS Do 3*011 understand what I mean, Mr.
; "Uh, you threaten, do you?" sneered I
Wayne. "I don't care that"?with a
11 contemptuous snap of his fingers?
I "for you or your threats. I'm not
r> afraid of you."
iS "I don't know whether you are or
ie not," said Dick, between his teeth,
while his eyes flashed fire. "But I
r ! know this, sir, I can knock you down
a as easy as nothing; and if yoii dare
give me another insolent word, I'll do
[e it, too."
t "If by insolence you mean telling
the truth about your getting the miti8
ten, I shall have to repeat my inso?
lence," responded Wayne, with an air
of bravado. "I wasn't aware that it
(| affected a fellow as it seems to do you.
I(| The sensation can't be very agreeable,
it judging from your looks. Can't
rf "Yes, sir, I can, ami I will," inter- |
s. rupted Dick, with a well-directed blow I
it from his muscular fist planted squarely ;
between Wayne's eyes. The singinge_
teacher fell to the ground like %n ox !
I before a butcher's ax.
"I should say that sensation wasn't |
very agreeable, judging from your
looks," said Dick, folding his arms
g and smiling down upon his rival, who
ig was half-stunned by the blow. His
face was covered with blood.
' [To be continued.]
For Those Fat an<l Tlione Lean.
>n A table of relative heights and i
weights given by Mrs. Etta Morse
is Hudders in What to Eat is worth re- !
n' peating. The weight of ordinary j
[1. clothing is included in the table. The ]
as woman who reaches the minimum or
ip ' maximum weight for her height is
n' recommended to look carefully after
to her diet, not only that her figure may
n, be what it should be, but for the sake
re of her general health. The table is: !
je Aver- Mini- Mnxi- j
n' 5 feet 115 93 132
1(1 5 fuet 1 inch 120 102 138
5 feet 2 inches 125 100 114
5 feet 3 inches 130 111 150
li 5 feet 4 inches 135. 115 155
ju 5 feet 5 inches 140 - ll'J ltil
5 feet ?inches 143 121 165
5 feet 7 inches 145 125 lo7
ie 5 feet 8 inches 148 12G 170
ii 5 feet 1) inches 155 131 17y
5 feet 10 inches 1(10 13(i 184
. 5 feet 11 inches 1<?5 138 11K)
st G feet 170 141 1%
l(* A Wo ml roil* Worm.
Dr. B. Loyil Duncan of Fairmont,
ill 1 ^ a > wllo ia visiting 111s iainer,
,jc | James Duncan, of Bridgeport, Ohio,
1ms shipped to the Smithsonian InstiJn
tute one of the most remarkable speeim
mens of worms ever seen. A few days ago
I Dr. Duncan was digging angle worms
er ' preparatory to going fishing, in WheelLU)
ing Creek, when he discovered what
if. appeared to be an extraordinarily large
one. The worm began crawling out
of the ground. The doctor, thinking
it a remarkable specimen, allowed it
jj. to extend itself from its hole without
injuring it. The worm when contracted
and in its normal shape was exaetn>
ly thirteen inches long and nearly half
j an inch in diameter. When stretched
to its full length it measured a little
,je more than thirty-live inches.
3ii A (lull remark shines in the shadow
a of a great name. * _.
NEW AND SEASONABLE,
survit ur inc. lm i co i oi i ll j in
Small Basque of Tjolmcco-Brown hurtle*'
Cloth, With Soutache JSraid For Decoration?
Ladles' and Misses' Ilusslim
Itlonse Waist In tlie New Shade of Tan.
Tobacco-brown ladies' cloth, according
to May Manton, was the material
selected for this Binart basque, with
soutache braid employed as a decora
A B A.SQTJE WITH VEST FBONT.
;ion. The adjustment is accomplished
)y single bust-darts, under-8,rm and
tide-back gores and a curving centrejack
seam, all of which are carried befond
the waistline in pointed outline,
LADIES' AND MISSES' W
t shaping that is universally becoming.
The fronts open upon a vest of
ivhite satin-faced cloth, and are
;rimmed with parallel rows of braid.
The vest is included in the shoulder
ind under-arm seams, and closes
I through the centre-front with button
j Holes and small buttons. The neck is
: rat in V shape, displaying linen chemisette
and white satin tie. An attractive
feature is the neat coat collar, of
ihe regulation taijor cut, the free edge
5f which are trimmed with braid. The
sleeves, presenting a decided change
I :rom last season's models, are twoseamed,
finishing with a slight puff at
the shoulder. Cloth, serge, cheviot,
aovelty and other similar fabrics are
ill suitable, with braid or machine
stitching as a finish. The model is
admirably adapted to early autumn
wear, and, in conjunction with a well2ut
skirt, will complete that most
1 A/?n?./\n\irtnl r\f r>Acfnmf'i4
prHUtlCUl UilU CUUUVlUiUMi u* wvwv?V?, ,
a tftilor-inade gown.
To make this basque for a woman |
i Df medium size will require two and
one-half yards of forty-four-inch material.
Russian Blouse For Liulie* and MIsfMjft.
I The stylish basque exhibited in t'ae
i large illustration, and described by
Mary Manton, is made of silk and
wool novelty in the new shade of tan
l known as beige. The trimming is
black ribbon velvet that is applied to
the edge of the right-front in a single
band that holds to position straps of
the same width velvet having mitred
points. The sleeves are decorated at
; the wrists with a band of velvet aad
deen frill of lace, and a fancy belt en
! circles the waist. The hat accompanying
is brown straw of sailor shape, the
! severity of which is somewhat :rej
lieved by a veiling of spotted chiflbn.
The blouse bodice is arranged over
a glove-fitting lining that reaches to
the waist line and closes hi the centrefront.
The fronts of the material are
> smooth-fitting across the shoulders
and bust, with the fullness at the
, waist arranged in gathers and droop;
itig over the narrow belt in. slight
! hlouse eft'ect. The right-front over
j laps the left and closes invisibly on the j
j left side, which flushes with a full
' ruffle of butter-colored lace. The
back is seamless, with a scant fullness
I at the waist laid in close overlapping
The model shows an added basque
| that is joined at the waist to the blouse
i proper. These basques, or peplums,
! promise to be exceedingly popular
during the coming season, being exhibited
in the latest of Parisian importations).
At the neck is a plain collar
covered with a stock of ribbon edged
a divi/lar) frill nf lanA. Tllfl I
1 sleeves are narrow anil fit the arm |
closely from the wrist to the elbow, j
above which the effect is slightly i
wrinkled or mousquetaire. They are
finished at the top with puffs of the j
same that are caught on the shouldere
in graceful and stylish effect.
waists 01 tins description can oe
made of novelties, plain, checked, :
striped or plaid woolens or light- j
weight cloths, and may be trimmed j
with either ribbon, braid, passementerie
or velvet. Silk, velvet and cor- .
duroy are also applicable to the mode, j
To make this waist for a lady in the
medium size will require two and
three-fourths yards of forty-four-inch
The Vogno In Winter Millinery.
Certainly, if there had been any
doubt of Henry of Navarre being forgotten
it would be dissipated by the
fact that on the head of almost everything
f<m'uine there waves, this autumn,
his historic white plume. It
stands up as bravely as possible. In
addition, feathers of all shades obtain,
although they have not driven either i
flowers, ribbons, velvet or spangles
out of the field.
# i The shape preferred is the one most
becoming to the individual. Furs,
especially sable and chinchilla, are
fashionable garnitures, and rich velvets
and silks are draped over soft
frames, producing wonderfully effective
results. Purple is still holding
the imperial sway it has for three
years, although a wonderful deep red
is a close rival to it, while royal blue,
silver-gray, black and white, white
and black, all black and all white obtaid.
Brilliant buckles and pins are
used to fasten flowers and plumes to
position. Indeed, wherever an effective
bit of color or brightness can be
artistically arranged, there it is in evidence.?Ladies'
Child's Apron. *
Figured dimity, embroidered edg
JSSIAN BLOUSE WAIST.
ing and insertion were the materials i
used in making this neat and simple j
apron, but dotted Swiss, cross-barred j
muslin, striped and plain cambric,
percale and gingham are equally suitable.
The upper portion consists of a
short fitted body having a straight
lower edge, the neck being cut in low
The skirt portion is simply gathered
at the upper edge and joined to the
body, a band of needlework concealing
the seam. A belt of insertion encircles
the waist and is carried forward
to the centre, closing with button and
button-hole. The skirt is hemmed
deeply at the bottom; narrow hems
finishing the back edges where the
closing is effected. An attractive feature
is the fanciful bertha, cut in two
sections, that is included in the neck,
falling deeply over the sleeves and
forming an epaulette that adds to the
breadth of shoulders and is universally
becoming. Both it and the neck
NEAT AND SIMPLE CHILD'S APRON*.
are finished with frills of embroidery j
headed by bands of insertion.
? * - A'M I
To make tbis apron ior a cuuu ui
eight years will require three yards of!
Courtship is dull business in Japan, |
as it is not customary for anyone to j
j kiss except man and wife. Even I
mother and child do not exchange this ;
I mark of affection, i .
KLONDIKE'S GOLD MINE
AN INTELLIGENT MINER'S ACCOW
OF THE NEW ELDORADO.
Great Qaantltien of Gold Found In
Swamp?More Than 8130,000 in Gt
Dust Taken from a space <ox
Feet?Bootfuls of the Yellow Mot
Everything i9 Klondike now, d
clares the Washington Pathfinder, ai
whether a man is "going" or not he
interested in all the real facts si
rounding this remarkable region
facts that are so unique that we ha
in the Klondike affair a new chapter
the history of gold discovery. "Dei
loads" of literature, to use the appi
priateterm, are being published abo
the Klondike. Much of it is superfl
ous, but out of it all we may be sun
vast amount of knowledge concernij
our ice-bound polar territory will 1
spread abroad. Even now we can s
that the prevailing notions as to t
climate and other conditions of Alas
have been in the main wrong. Fr(
this on, however, the Yukon count
will no longer be terra incognita.
One of the most interesting stori
that has come from the Klondike is
the shape of a diary kept by Sami
Clark, who left for the Yukon in t
spring and who writes intelligently
the country. He says that the c
server would never suspect the exii
atiao nf frnld-hearincr rocks in suci
country, where there is only "bla
lava, white and gray sand, limesto
and slate, and nothing at all to in<
3ate the immediate vicinity of t
countless millions which lie unearth
beneath the gulches."
Mr. Clark's diary goes on: "Mat
claims pay thousands of dollars to ?
day, and some clean up from two
five thousand twice a day and thii
nothing of it. Every can, pot, buck
and sack on the claim is used; th
cannot get vessels of the proper ki:
quick enough. Two men left on t
last steamer the other day with seve
ty-five pounds of dust each. . Mi
come down from the claims with apa
of gold on their backs and throw it i
to a corner, and there it is. Nothi:
is locked up or hidden away; gold
seen everywhere and everybody h
"People are' paid big for fillii
sacks with moss to chink log cabi:
with. One woman asked a man to i
a sack with chips from a tree near 1
and gave him $1.25 for his five mi
utes' trouble. Gold is more plentil
than water, for that is scarce. T,1
river is muddy and the springs a
colored from moss. Tiie saw mm
rushing day and night. Men stai
and watch each log sawed and gr
the lumber as soon as it is ripped u
A man cau sell anything on earth ai
at nearly his own price.
"Have been to the diggings. 1
the best ground is in a swamp, a:
the rock slides, but gold is all
places where no sane man would ev
dream of looking. The-mines'we
discovered by a squaw man who vt
salmon fishing, in bedrock whi
came to the surface in the only lit
spot in the creek. There they d
twenty feet in swamp 4nd morass a
thicket, frozen, in this strangest pla
on earth for gold. In Berry's cla:
he took out $131,500 in a space 75k
and 20 feet deep, by burning a
drifting under the pay streak. Oth
claim owners about him did still b
ter. Claims were 500 feet up a:
down from rim to rim. In places th
are a quarter ot a mue wme ami i
pay, and in others not so wide. Do\
a narrow creek men are filliilg rubb
boots, tin cans, canvas bags, in ft
anything that will hold dust. It is <
timated that $6,000,000 has be
taken out so far (June 15) and not or
half of the Bonanza and El dor a
claims even open to bedrock. The
is room for 500,000 men yet on tl
Klondike and side streams if they a
all good. The country is not hi
prospected nor any idea of the exte
of its wealth known as yet; been d
covered only ten months."
A Few Facts Abont Gold.
The standard gold coin of the Unit
?. nnn rTU? ??
&IflX69 IS . UUU pure. jliic uuuou cvj
ereign is .916 pure.
Gold is measured by Troy weigl
the grain being the lowest unit. The
are 7000 grains in an avoirdnp<
pound, only 5760 grains in a Tr
pound. A "short ton" of gold woul
therefore, contain 14,000,000 grair
and it would be worth some 8600,0C
The "grain" used in weighing gc
was originally a grain of wheat. T
"carat," or perhaps "carob," was t
seed of the coral flower, a fine seed
even weight. Used in speaking
gold, twenty-four carats means pu
Gold dust generally runs from 8
to 819 the Troy ounce. That broug
down from the Klondike usually we
not much over 816 the ounce.
Gold is one of the heaviest kno^
metals, with a specific gravity
19.35. Gold dust is rather less hea^
but a tin dinner pail would hold a ]
A cubic foot of pure gold won
weigh 1240 pounds avoirdupois,
man looking at it would think he con
lift it. but?. It would be worth $37:
A gold brick ongbt to be worth Sli
000, if about the size of the ordiun
oue, but something depends on wheth
the gold runs all the way through t
The stock of gold coin in the pr:
cipal Nations is as follows:
Nation. Amount. Capi
United States ?672,200,000 $?
Great Britain and Ireland
France 772,000,000 2(
Germany 075,000,000 li
Austria-Hungary 167,200,000 J
Russia 483,600,000 !
Australasia 130,000,000 21
Egypt 121),300,000 li
Eel's Eccs in Demand.
Here's a chance for some one.
one has ever seeu eel's eggs. It is
lieved that they spawn in the oce:
as they never increase in a laml-locl
pond. Fame and distinction aw
the one who will solve this probl
that the naturalists have found
much for them.?Lewiston (Me.) Jo
Property in Three Cities.
The value of the house property
London is 33,365,000,000 that of Pa
81,430,000,000, that of New York 8
gp, v ,
S. THE MAD WORLO. \
The mad world rushes along the ages \
And forward! forward! Is still the cry.
*' No time to rest, for the battle rages;
Then hurry and worry and struggle and
a No time to rest by the fountains, flowing
>ld Through shady groves, where the poeta
?1 With froah Tclnrla hlnrolnfT And tclld flower?
e* And Pan to pipe for our pleasuring,
ia The sun goes down in a blaze of splendor,
ir. And the moonlight trembles along th?
The nightingale's song is sweet and tender,
we But the world is too busy to care lol
0 foolish world, in your greed for treasur? .
?" You are taking the husks and leaving the
u- Zou are missing the sweets that make lift
a a pleasure,
And getting the trouble and labor and
be ? D. H. Morehead, in Boston Transcript*
he PITH AND POINT.
)id May?"Did you and Cholly have
,ry any luck fishing?" Maud?"He did;
1 didn't." May?"Then you're not
,es engaged after all?"?Puck.
in Philanthropist?"What was the imiel
mediate cause of your fall, my good
he man?" The Good Man?"My sweetnf
kdv/innad ma " Pnof^n TVftnfl?
at" He?"If people said just what they
1 a thought, it would do a lot of harm,
ck wouldn'tit?" She?"Well, it would re!?.e
iuce conversation about nine-tenths."
e(j Penelope?"What did he send you
for a wedding present?" Pauline?
"Cut glass." Penelope?"Ah, tabloid
ware, I suppose?" Pauline?"No?a " \'
ak Prisoner Reformer (to convict)? *" .
et "Have you any complaint to make?"
ey Convict?"Well, I'd be better satisad
fled if I wasn't locked up."?Philadelhe
phia North American.
n- Ethel?"And when he said he was
en willing to die for you, what did you '
ck do?" Penelope?"Why, I nearly
n- fainted! The idea of the only man, at
Qg a summer resort talking of dying."?
is Puck. j
a3 Teacher (in kindergarten)?"You've - ^
omitted something, Mabel, in making
*8 your letter Ts.' What is it?" Mabel
as _<?i guess I forgot to put eyebrows
HI over them."?London Household
,nj "That man wants a design for a
lJ1 laundry advertisement," remarked the
e artist, thoughtfully. "What is it to
be?" "All he said was that he wanted M
something appropriate. I guess I'll
fix him up some sort of a wash drawing."?Washington
"A great * many people go beyond
i their means trying to make a show,"
I 11 J 1L - .
kll aeciareu mo aaoc
a(j "That's right,'* assented Chumpley; ' >
in "I blew in $10,000 trying to make a
er show, and it busted the third week
,re out."?Detroit Free Press. ' &
as "It won't be long," said the man A
ch1 who loves to talk science at the table, I
tie "before all our engines and that sort I
ug of thing will be run by the heat of the
nd sun." "But," asked his wife, "if . j
ce they go to using up the heat of the \ -i
im 3un that way, won't it make the ^
75 weather too col4 to grow crops?"?
nd Cincinnati Enquirer/
ier Now it chanced that the pilgrim ac- ^
et" josted an inhabitant of the town
pd through which he journeyed. "It
e7 seems to me," remarked the pilgrim,
"that there are a great many muddy
5-11 crossings in your town." "Mere illuer
sion, old man," answered the inhabilct
tant. "You get that impression from
53- ?r> manv of our ladies wearing knick
eD arbockers or short skirts."?Detroit
!*? Small boy dashed breathless into a
!r6 nerchaut's office. "Is the guv'nor
e |n,.? ?<Yes; what do you want?" "Must
,r.1 3ee him myself; most partikler." "But
a pou can't; he's engaged." "Must see
.n him immejit; most pertikler." The
13 boy's importunity got him in. "Well, /,
ooy; what do you want?" "D'yerwant
1 orffice boy, sir?" "You impudent
poung rascal! No! We've got one."
"No, you ain't, sir; he's just bin run
,T over in Cheapside." Boy engaged.?
1 1 A New Use For Cata.
German journalism does not often
_ awaken suspicions of intended humor,
j but a Munich paper gives an account
' of a newly formed London society,
(q' ! behind which one can fancy a huge
.1.7 j Teutonic grin. The society alluded to
is said to be a "National Club for tne
Propagation of Cats," and the reason I
0j why the peaceful domestic feline is 6
0j suddenly becoming so valuable as to I
rp merit "propagating" is, we "are told, I
that it has dawned upon the promoters I
p of the club that the cat, possessing, aSv fl
y it does, great latent electricity, ip, or^J
,nj will be, an excellent "generator or
condensator of electricity, which may
yn be of great value to sufferers from
neuropathic and neurasthenic dis- I
orders." Just how these novel "gen- I
IqJ erators or compensators" are to bo |
made use of is not divulged, but the I
ljj project appears pregnant with interest
^ ing possibilities from cats worn after I
j j the fashion of porous plasters to mas- I
2. sage with live cats. Whatever may be I
' intended to ba done with them it is
- _ | probable that the unfortunate beasts
' ; will direly need every one of the niDe H
I Iivps with which thev are said to be fl
ke endowed.?New York Commercial ifi
Famous Cheese Doomed. K|
r J France, and through France the I
ta. ; whole civilized world, will probably I
' 35 | sutler in the course of a few years an I
I S). i irreparable calamity. Roquefort, one I
)!io of the most famous of cheeses, is I
! threatened with speedy extinction. No B?
! : part of the blame for this disaster rests I
j j with nature. Man's greed alone can I
5.5." i be held responsible. The milk of the H
* *"> sheep that browsed on the thyme-ciaa m
j banks of the Larnac and Aveyron has H
j long since ceased to suffice for the mar- H
Xo ' ket. Flocks were accordingly fed in H
be. I the grassy pastures, and yielded mora H
au j milk, but of an inferior quality. Worse H
:ecJ still, cow's milk was mingled with that H
ait ' of the sheep, the cheese being artifl* H
?orui snfledv deteriorai H
em ciuiijr m/ww, -r??
too tion ensued. Buyers now look asrk-*^B
ur. ance at what is called Roquefort, and H
a business worth nearly one million H
dollars every year and employing 60,- H
000 people seems likely to perish. A H
, 0j strong effort is being made by the H
rjg local authorities to revive old methods JH
;j , of production, but a name and an art H
' once lost are with difficulty recovered, H