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J?i, -Vi il\ (Tilti ¥S»r v,:?' Bl vOt'KLA.ND & OVEKSOK. WILLISTON. N. DAK A MOTHER'S LOVE. There'sa house upon the hillside where my memory ever turns When the night across this foreign land* scape falls Through its little latticed window I can see the light that burns, And I always hear the cricket as it calls! And no matter where I wander, on the sea or on the land, When the lamps are lit in all the homes I know There .it one placed in the window by a mother's loving hand, And I read love's deathless message in Its glow! On a golden summer everting, when across the fields I strayed On an errand up or down the country side, Or wheil in the darkened dingle after night I was delayed, She would trim thellght to be my home ward guide. And whatever fancy gathers, when the evening star is high, And my .loved one's casement opens on the. foam, 1 Above the perfumed glitter I Can see with tearful eye The light that mother trims for me at home! —Alonzo Rice, in Indianapolis Journal. •'THE PRIDE I oe TRAMPLED THEN" By ROYALL 6. SMITH. (Oonrricht, 1M1 by Dally Story Pub. Os.) I WAS 15 she, 12. I was an over grown young ruffian with an am bition wavering between the prize ring and a career as a professional baseball player shei was a spidery,, forlorn-looking little thing, much like Mrs. Burnett's Sara Crewe. My pride in my own prowess, great ns it was, was surpassed by hers in me. This I knew—she was too young and too frank for concealment —and deplored. But so long as this childish preference for me took no more tangible form than smiles I could endure it, though all the time fearing lest I be accused by asso ciates of kindergarten inclinations. But, pshaw! Why dissemble? I had best borrow a lesson in frank ness from Philippa herself, and ad mit that there was Another. Phil ippa's successful rival was Daisy Ty ler, a girl who at 15 was a full-blown La France rose. What were little Phil's honest gray eyes beside hers of dark blue with their long lashes! And Phil's hair was short and ragged, while Daisy's brown tresses, evpn to my untutored eye, were a crown of glory. In short, poor little Phil in comparison with the efflores cent Miss Tyler suffered grievously. And I suffered, too, at tire hands "SCHOOLMATES?" SHE SAYS. "POS SIBLY SO." of Daisy, whose rivalry for my er rant fancy was none of her choosing. For a mere boy like myself she sat In the seat of the scornful. The memorable day that our foot ball team played the Central High school, the Tyler equipage, contain ing the imperious Daisy, unchaper oned, was among the carriages along the side lines. Next to it, in an un obtrusive road-cart, were little Phil and her mother, but at them I deigned but a glance. Daisy granted me a few words that made me deliriously happy and sent me into the fray, heart, soul and body, like a knight of old with his lady looking on. At the end of the first half I was utterly 'exhausted and too disfigured to face my Love. Then, too, three grown college boys wefre in the car riage with her, and she was obvious ly quite content without me. Between halves, while 1 lay pant ing on the turf, there came to me a grimy urchin, bearing flowers. My heart sung. After all she had not forgotten me. From the heart of a big rose that suggested her fell a wee note. Tremblingly I unrolled it. "I knew you would just be grand." So ran the missive in Philippa's un formed scrawl. With a snort of dis gust I flung the flowers away. I shot a malevolent look at Phil. And though seemingly she was not looking at me I knew that she had seen it. The next morning I met Philippa face to face, and she passed me with unseeing eyes. Ten years later I meet her again. We are both guests at a dinner and are introduced. I am sitting Ijesiue her and I ask her if we were not- old schoolmates. I expected a cordial remembrance. Indeed, I feef somewhat disappointed that she has not already recognized "Schoolmates?" iftft gays. "Peiui bly so. I went to the public schools when I w,as quite a child, and every body that was nobody went there." I deserve it, but I gnash my teeth, figuratively, and essay another ven ture. "But surely you remember me,— Dick Eagleton?" I insist. "It's odd but I can remember only the nobodies," evades' Philippa. "One young policeman, several grocery dc liverymen and a street car conduc tor call me 'Miss Archer,' and I have a vague memory of having gone to school with them." I cover my repulse by talking in glittering generalities. They do noc prevent my covertly studying her. What a superb woman she has made! My memory harks back to the days when she looked like Sara Crewe, and I marvel at her beautiful hair, her good, clear color and her sunny face. Perhaps one hypercritical might not call her beautiful, but I suddenly cease being hypercritical. After a bit she is inconsistent enough to ask me if I remember Daisy Tyler. By way of retaliation I swear that I do not, and surprise succeeds mischief in the clear gray eyes—honest eyes that are always frank. Of course I call I am a persistent fellow and am undaunted by the re buff she has given me. In time we be come quite good friends, but further than that it seems impossible for me to advance. In my salad days— I am 25 now, but beside me the pyra mids are imature,—I fancied my self a real "lion among ladies," but re cently I have been sadly disillusioned. To the straw of the little incident in her childhood and mine I cling like a drowning man. I have kept its memory alive for ten years. Has she? Does it prejudice or aid me in this my sore strait? If I but knew! She knows that I love her, and that much I'll swear, though I have never told her. When I try she adroitly wards me off, reducing me to a state of chaotic idiocy. "Do you read Henly?" I ask her one evening. "No," she replies with questioning eyes. "Then don't," I continue. "But there ar.e some lines of »his tucked away in the midst of something that —well, need not have been written— which peculiarly appeal to me." "Oh, you are going to try again!" flash the honest gray eyes. "I don't like the Decadents," she interrupts. But I refuse to be stopped and be gin my quotation. "The pride I trampled then,'' "And you boast that you are not sentimental," she laughs, cutting my quotation short. "I am not," I say. "My affliction is sentiment my neighbor's is senti mentality." "Encore!" she cries. "How epi grammatic!" "Some day I shan't let you change the subject," I say grimly. "As you warned me a moment ago, I'll reciprocate. Don't try it." Just then we are joined by Miles Stanford. Him, I dread as the Miles intervening between me and—Heaven. I return to first principles and have an acute attack of the same black despair that engulfed me the day 1 sav the college boys chatting with Daisy Tyler of ancient history. I think that my mask of gaj'ety con ceals it until Philippa passes me a card on which she has contrived to scribble: "You are perfectly hor rid." For one happy moment the wflrld is mine. Did she not regard me as her own she would never have taken the liberty. I feel genuinely sorry f.r Stanford, who, despite his wealth, is not a bad fellow after all. But after I take my leave I suc ceed in demonstrating to myself that I am a limitless fool. Of course Phil ippa will not marry for money, but Stanford without a penny is a thou sand times better than Dick Eagle ton. So I reason it out through the still watches of the night. Yet the very next afternoon I con coct a fraudulently transparent scheme to see Philippa again. "And what is this important mat ter that won't wait?" she demands. "Do you remember the quotation you would not let me finish?" I begin. "Is that all? Either my memory is treacherous, or else you quote so much—" "Nonsense!" I interrupt. "The last line is": 'For you love, yet you refrain.'" "Is it true?" I asked. Though her lips answered nothing her eyes told me that it was, and I caught her in my arms. "You'll forgive me for being such a brute when I was a boy?" "Doesn't it look as if I had for given you?" she asks with a happy laugh. "And this is Mosiac justice tem pered with mercy." "And love," adds Philippa in a whisper. Effect of(Dran*. Certain substances which are dead in their, effects upon men can be tak en by the brute creation with im punity. Horses cantake large doses of antimony, dogs of mercury, goats of tobacco, mice of hemlock and rab bits of belladonna, without injury. On the other hand, dogs and cats are much more susceptible to the influ ence of chloroform than man, and are much sooner killed by it. A Natural Inquiry. Little Nellie was out riding one day with her mother, and as they passed a cemetery she asked: "Mamma, how long does it take for the tombstones to come up after they plant people?'' WAS NO BOUNTY JUMPER. Ho Bought a Substitute to Fight in His Place, Bat It Was Woodu One. During a recent social campfire, held at th» big round table in the quarter master's' corner of a comrade's can teen by several grand army survivors of the strenuous: "unpleasantness' be tween Yankee Doodle and Dixie the major was called upon *to contribute hia share of heroic and humorous rem iniscence, says the New York Times. "Well, boys," replied he, manipu lating the seltzer siphon with his left, handi—whatever remains of his sword arm being near "Hell's Angle," on the field of Gettysburg,—"you ought to know by this time that I can draw a small pension much easier than I can tell a funny story, and I can just now recall but one, and in that you'll be ppt to find more truth than tickle. "At the time of the first draft I was stationed in Buffalo as a recruiting officer for my regiment, and the price of substitutes to fill the alloted quotas often reached a bigger figure in green backs than a common soldier could earn in a couple of years. So universal and overwhelming was the patriotic desire to be huskily represented by somebody else in defending Old Glory that even 'Lo the poor,' etc., was ac cepted for that purpose. Buffalo, too, was the biggest recruiting station in the whole country, and as such a gold en field for a small army of bounty brokers', among whom one 'Cy' Phillips was conspicuous. "Under these conditions Phillips: was approached one day by an individual with 'hayseed' written all over him, from his flapping straw hat to his tal lered cowhide boots^ who stated that he had an Indian, as sound as second growth hickory, whom, for- pressing and plausible reasons, he was willing to dispose of for the small s,um of $400, cash on the nail. "'Where is he?' eagerly inquired Phillips, whose cupidity was blindly stimulated by -the fact that substitutes were in extraordinary diemand, prices 'way up and soaring, and competition red-hot. 'I've got him locked up in a barn down on Canal street, an' here's the key,' explained the rural dickerer. "This apparently innocent and sin cere assurance was accepted by Phil lips, who paid over the amount de manded* and hastened to "take posses sion of hi& aboriginal gold mine. On M5B5 'HEI-.B, NOW, NO NONSENSE!" opening the door he was startled to find himself confronted in the dim light by a huge, ferocious savage, holding a tomahawk in. his uplifted hand. 'Here, now, no nonsense,' cried Phillips, as he fell back. 'I've bought you and paid for you, and! neither a dollar nor a drink do you get unless you behave yourself.' "But the big Indian stolidly and si lently retained his threatening atti tude nor could he well do otherwise, for as Phillips pulled himstelf together andi his eyes became accustomed to the gloom he discovered that he was the unhappy purchaser of a wooden cigar store chief, and one undoubtedly as sound, as warranted." 'What did he do about it?' aslced one of the party. "Do?" echoed the major. "Noth ing except to make that innocent red man look as if he'd run the gauntlet of a thousand sledge hammers, and then go and squander another $400 in vainly trying to drown'the story in wine." Record of Union ard Confederate. Congress, at its last session, author ized the preparation of a list of all the union and confederate officers and men engaged in the civil war as a continua tion of the "Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies." Sec retary Boot has accordingly asked the governors of all the states which fur nished troops for the confederate ar mies to cooperate with him in making the list as nearly complete as possible by lending to the war department such lists as the states may have, and by as sisting the department in getting ac cess to lists in the possession of various associations and private individuals.— Washington Star. Proper Caper. Mrs. Waggs (reading)—A well-known physician says that one should never go into the water after a hearty meal. Waggs—That's right. It's better to go into a first class restaurant after it if one happens to have the price.— Chicago I'aily THEY HAD NOTHING TO EAT. Union Foxmsrers Straclc a Socthtrl Bianslon with Satisfactory Results. It is a hum-drum song to say: "We were short of rations." It is a well understood fact that such a condition was none too rare an event with the soldier in the civil ("civil" didn't seem to be the appropriate word at all times, however) service during the late in ternational struggle, says' a writer in the American Tribune. I will say that at one time we were not supplied with an abundance of the provender that furnishes the nutri ment for the corporal system. In such cases we sometimes consid ered it a duty we owed to our country to provide ourselves with ^ie means of keeping up physical repairs in order that we might be in "fighting trim" when duty demanded it of us. On one occasion like this, "our set" came to a WE PROCEEDED TO ARGUE THE CASE. magnificent mansion occupied by a lady and her daughters (the gentlemen of the plantation were, of course, away performing military service in the interests of the confederation), in whose veins flowed the proudest-, haughtiest, hottest of southern blood. In as polite, mod«st ai\d humble man ner as Ave were capable of assuming, we askedi the elder lady if we could get anything to eat. In a very haughty, positive manner she rep^ed that vt% could not. We forthwith proceededto argue the case, like a greedy lawyer with a good case. Finally she changed her tactica and pleaded poverty, saying that they were themselves actually starving that they had nothing in the house to eat, and' didn't know what they were going to do. In some houses we would have believed, this but, consid ering all the manifest indications of comfortable circumstances, I was fully convinced that she was not telling the truth, and that she was only too anx ious to get rid of us so I determined to satisfy my curiosity andihunger, too, at once, if possible, and ordered my squad to search the house for some thing to eat while I entertained the ladies. The said ladies strongly pro tested against this proceeding but it was of no use. The search went on, just the same, and with very satisfac tory results—on our part. Plenty of good bread, meat, sugar and other good things were found, on which we feasted' bountifully, as also did our haversacks. We returned to camp with light hearts, contemplating another good, square meal or two. And yet Ave did not leaA'e the ladies "without anything to eat." It is not at all probable they ever starved to death. A WONDERFUL RECORD. .1* a Deserter, the Man Herein Men tioned Was the Bent of Them All. Professional bounty-jumpers Avere developed during the civil Avar, but it may be doubted if any one of them dis played so much activity in his profes sion as arry E. Mason has shoAvn as an enlister and deserter during the past tAvo years, says the New York Sun. On February 15, 1901, Mason en listed in the army at Brooklyn, and on April deserted. On April 18 of the same year, under the name of Harry E. LoAve, he enlisted at Detroit, and deserted the same day. Then he Avaited a year—at least he seems to have done so but on April 28, 1902, as Harry Edwards, he enlisted at Phil adelphia, only to desert five days later, on May 3, on which day he enlisted at Louisville as Harry Briggs, to desert on May 7. Coming to this city, he en listed as Harry Dubois on July 25,1902, and deserted on July 29. At Mobile, on March 21 of this year, he enlisted un der the name of Harry E. Bates, and deserted at Jefferson barracks on March 27. The day before his depart ure, however, he had gone to St. Louis and enlisted as Harry Hastings but on the AA -ay to Columbus barracks he de serted again, and hurried to Cincin nati, Avhere, as Harry LeAvis, he en listed for the eighth time, on April 2, only to desert. Avhile en route to Co lumbus barracks. As no bounty is given for enlist ments, and as he could hav-e draAA'n pay only during his first enlistment, the reason for his performances is not clear. A Dangerous Shell. The latest explosive shell has greater part of its interior filled lead, AA 'hich, AA the Avith 'hen fired, is melted by a burning composition, so that when the shell bursts the molten lead is scat tered to a considerable distance, and the smallest particle causes a nasty wound.—Chicago Chronicle. Good Aflvilcf. Not all the people take good ad vice you will not have much com petition if you resolve to take good advice, and get ahead in the worlU. -Atchison Glob*. THE TIMID KITTEN. There was a little kitten once Who was of dogs afraid And being by no means a dunce. His plans he boldly made. He said: "It's only on the land That dogs run after me, 8o I will buy a cat-boat, and ril sail away to sea. "Out there from dogs I'll be secure. And each night, ere I sleep, To make assurance doubly sure, A dog-watch I will keep." He bought a cat-boat, hired a crew, And one line summer day Triumphantly his flag he flew, And gayly sailed away. But in mid-ocean one midnight— 'Twas very, very dark— The pilot screamed in sudden fright: "I hear & passing bark!" "Oh, what Is that?" the kitten said. The pilot said: "I fear An ocean greyhound's just ahead, And drawing very near!" "Alack!" the kitten cried, "alack! This is no paltry pup! An ocean greyhound's on my track— I may as well give up!" —Carolyn Wells, in St. Nicholas. SAVED BY ELEPHANT. Little Girl Is Rescued from Embrace of Ugly Bear by a Blow from His Traalt. A traveling circus and menageria had come to town in the early morn ing, and the men had set up the tent in a big vacant lot, and were now at work getting things ready for the afternoon performance. A good many men and boys—and some little girls, too—were in the lot nearly all the forenoon, watching what was going on, but they were particularly inter ested in an elephant and a bear that were chained each to a stake out- ELEPHAUT DEFENDED HER. side the tent and not very far apart. While they stood about looking at the beasts a girl eight or nine years of age came out of the tent, and, ap proaching the elephant, began to play Avith him. She would hold a wisp of straw out to him, and when he thrust his trunk toward it she Avould jerk it aAvay and jump back out of his reach. Then she would run all around him, and he would try to touch her with his trunk, but always in a gentle way. as if he enjoyed the sport as much as she did. The people Avho Avere standing around looked at all this with star ing eye^, as if they expected to see the little girl caught up and crushed to death by the great beast, but they found out later on that she was the daughter of one of the managers, who alloAved her to play with the elephant AvheneA-er she pleased, as it was very fond of her, and seemed never so much delighted as when she was near it. Meanwhile the big bear was watching them, and soon began to show signs of not liking their play. He AA'as evidently in a bad humor, but the girl was so full of her fun Avith her friend the elephant that she paid no attention to the bear. Presently, in jumping back to get out of the Avay of the elephant's trunk, she got within reach of the bear, and he seized her with his paAv and would no doubt have killed her, but the elephant saw him, and struck him a blow with its trunk that laid him on the ground severely injured. Then there was great excitement men yelled and boys and girls screamed,- and a dozen circus men came running to see what was the matter. They found the little girl only slightly hurt, while the old ele phant rocked himself to and fro in unmistakable delight over what he had done.—D. B. Waggener, in Chi cago Kecord-Herald. New Definition of Fnrlough. The word "furlough" occurred in a reading lesson of a primary grade in one of our public schools. The teacher asked: "Does any little boy or girl know the meaning of the word "furlough?" Whereupon one small hand was raised and shaken vigor ously in the eagerness of the little urchin to display his knowledge, and Avhen permitted by the teacher to do sor he arose, and with the greatest assurance said: "Furlough means a mule." Not a AA-hit disturbed at the teacher's "Oh, no, it doesn't," the small boy confidently answered: "I have a book at home that says so., Then the teacher told him he might bring the book to school and show it to her. The next session he came arme} with the book, and triumph antly showed her the picture of an American soldier bestride a mule, un der which was printed: "Going home Ma forlevch.** JACK AND DOROTHY. Hew flie Gircns Came to Two Indi trloas Children Who Coslii't Go to It* Jack and Dorothy were very The reason Avas that the circus was coming to Globeville, and they could not go. They could.not even go to see the street parade in the morning. Jack and Dorothy lived out in the country. Their father was dead, and they were very poor. Jack and Dorothy were willing to give up going to the circus, but they did feel that it \yas hard that it had to come in strawberry time. All the farmers round about raised strawber ries, and there was a cannery which bought all they raised. The berries were just ripe now, and Jack and Dor othy could each make a dollar a day picking them. They began as soon as it was light in the morning, and picked till it was too dark to see any longer. It made them very tired, stooping over in the hot sun all day, but a dollar a day is a good deal of money for such a little girl and boy to earn, and they were glad to get it. If they went to Globeville to see the parade, it would take half a day's wages from each, and that would mean a dollar lost. Their mother felt as bad over it as they did. She told them just how it was, and then said that they should settle it themselves. Jack and Dor othy talked it over that evening, out behind the barn, and decided that they could not afford to go. They cried a little over it, but they wiped away their tears before they went in. to tell their mother. Jack had a very strange dream. He thought he was in a great forest, and that he could hear all the animals in the world, each making its own par ticular kind of noise. The lions roared, the elephants trumpeted, the camels brayed and the panthers screeched. It seemed to Jack that he was wander ing in this forest for hours and hours. The noises grew louder and louder and nearer and nearer, till suddenly Jack woke with a start. He thought for a moment that he was still in the forest, for there Avere all the noises he had heard, mixed with the voices of men shouting. He leaped from his bed and ran to the window. There, in the bright moonlight, were elephants and camels, horses and dogs, and great red wagons, pouring through the big g^te into their yard. "Dorothy! Dorothy!" he shrieked wildly, and in another instant the chil dren were tearing madly into their clothes and rushing barefoot down stairs. Their mother was already up and calling them, and she told them that it was the circus, on its way to Globeville, which had stopped to water the animals at their well. It took more than an hour to water all the animals. The elephants had to have the washtub to drink out of, and they sucked up a tubf ul of water at one gulp. The doors of the big wagons Avere opened, and the children saw the men water the lions and tigers and leopards inside and the lion roared, just as Jack had heard him in his dream. A little pony found a pail of milk that had ben set out for the chick ens, and drank it all up. Then he stood up on his hind legs and begged. He was a trick pony. Jack and Dorothy ran here and there, bringing pails to water the animals and cups for the men to drink from. So at last a good natured tnan said: "Those little chaps have worked hard. Give them a ride." Then a keeper called the children over to the biggest elephant and said: "Stand quiet noAv, and don't be afraid. He won't hurt you." Then he spoke to the elephant, and the elephant softly and gently put its trunk around first Jack and then Dor othy, and lifted them both on to its OAvn great back. "Hang on, now," said the man, and then he led the elephant all around the yard. Then they all Avent away, and Jack and Dorothy could hear the noise for a long, long time down the Globeville road. "Oh, mamma," said Dorothy, "we couldn't go to the circus, and so the circus came to us."—N. Y. Tribune. LEAVES THAT WALK. Insects In Java Counterfeit Plants So Remarkably That the Eye Is Cleverly Deceived. No, it isn't vegetable matter, al though the closest scrutiny only dis proves it. This is one of the most won derful of all insect imitators, the THE WALKING LEAF. "walking leaves" of Java, bugs that counterfeit green leaves so remarkably that the eye is deceived, even on the closest view. Equally extraordinary, the coloring matter in these insects has been proved by analysis to be practically the same substance as the chlorophyl, which gives the gyeen hue to real leaves. In Java the natives believe that the bugs are actually transformed leaves, having originated as buds on the trees. There is a so-called "leaf butterfly'1 which resembles any other butterfly when fluttering about, but when it alights upon a br&tkch it holds its wing* in such a manner that they look exact ly like a leaf, even showing tha "ribs" thereof.—Detroit Free Pres^