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I nSm The Wife's S^rct, j
• vJiitW °R A BITTER RECKONING ::
:; 2sjw£)ffl^ By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEMB '.'
' \ **«OTI£ *•• I j ————«_-___ • •
flt I t M I 111 I 1 It 1 I I I I I I M 1.++.M..H..M, 1 II 1 1 I ! I 1 I M I H. 1 M tjj
CHAPTER XV.—{Continued.*
Every nerve in Pauline's body was vi
brating, and ■ sense of suffocation came
over her. Had this man at last sepn
the advertisement or been told of it?
Perhaps, too, he had been to those dread
ful people, Haws fl| Haven, and obtain
ed from them the Information that would
ruin her. She turned to .Jnck eagerly.
"I>on't see them, Jack!" she Mid,
pleadingly. "They will keep you all the
afternoon, and we are so comfortable."
Jack felt that his position was hardly
plensant. If they hnd nsked for him
he ought to go to them. But still he
admitted thnt Pauline's objection was
Quite natural. He could understand her
wish that he should not meet Ethel more
than wns necessary.
"Very well." h e acquiesced. "Not at
home, Babette."
The Frenchwoman retraced her steps
down the long gallery, with a look i.t
deep disappointment on her face. She
had expected so much from the appear
ance of these people. She had built on
the abrupt termination of this hateful
engagement through them, and now the
chance was loaf, utterly lost, just be
cause she count not bring about the de-
Hired interview.
This disappointment, coming after her
morning's failure at Daws' oillce, broke
down her spirit altogether, and for the
first time she began to believe that she
must resign herself to the inevitable- —
that the marriage could not be prevent
ed, and she must be satisfied with the
poor revenge of depriviug Pauline of
her unlawful possessions. Bhe clinched
her teeth with defeated rage as she en
tered the. boudoir.
"No, madams has not yet returned,"
ahe said, and helu the door for them to
pass out into the gallery.
Hut in that moment of her utter de
apalr the tide turned and carried her
on to speedy victory. She preceded Mr.
and Miss Mallett until they reached the
central hall, and then handed them over
to the footman. She stood watching
them as they re-entered the hired car
riage. As they drove off some one
plucked at her from behind. She turned
round in surprise to meet Mrs. Perkins,
whom she had passed In the corridor,
outside the boudoir, superintending the
arranging of fresh flowers in the window
eland. The housekeeper's usually florid
face was quite pale, and she jerked out
her words in a curious, breathless way:
"Whe are those people you have just
shown out?"
"Mr. and Miss Mallett."
"They are nothing of the kind! The
gentleman is Sir Geoffrey Mailing, Baro
net, brother of Kir Paul and uncle to
our present mistress, and the young lady
ts like enough to the family to be his
daughter."
The Frenchuspinan stood looking at
her with a gigantic triumph la her face
er. she muttered:
"At last —at last!"
CHAPTER XVI.
"Will Mr. Mallett call on Messrs.
I>aws & Haven, at their offices, 10 Le
man street, E. (.'., between ij and 3
o'clock to-day? They have private iu
formatiun of the greatest value to im
part to him."
Ethel leaned over her father's shoul
der and read the telegram.
"What can It mean, papa? It's very
mysterious. Shall you go? I wish you
would take me with you. I shall be in
such a state of excitement until you
come back."
"1 could not think of taking you to a
place 1 know nothing of. my dear. It
might be Inconvenient to hay« you with
me."
"Why, papa, I believe you are excited
and curious! It is the tirst time I ever
aaw you so Interested."
"Yea, I am curious. It strikes me as
odd that, after living an uneventful life
for the last twenty y»ars, I should one
day break my vow as to never revisiting
Mallingford Park unless as its owner,
and the next day receive this curloua
message. 1 dare say it Is only a coinci
dence; hut still it is strange and I can't
help connecting the one event with the
other."
Surely there was some strangely ex
hilarating quality in the atmosphere this
morning, for Ethel went ab.iut her busi
ness iD a brisker manner than she had
lately. Her nerves were a little hit un
strung, too, for. when about 3 o'clock
there came a very decided rat-a-tat-tat
at the door, she was worked up to such
a state of extreme expectation that she
almost shrieked aloud. She rnn to her
usual post of observation, the stair head,
and was surprised, pleased, sorry, dis
turbed, all in a moment, at Ike sight of
Captain Pelling.
She was almost tempted to send him a
message to the effect that she ceuld not
•c« him just then; but she had a horror
of deception, and indeed she was really
glad to see him again. A few aecondl
later she was shaking hands with him,
end her shyness had completely ran
Uhed.
After the question as to sport there
was an awkward little pause, and Ethel
felt her heart quicken with dread. Bhak
Ing herself free from this feeling, she
turned to her visitor.
•■You have not a«'-ej why pap.t is not
•t home," she remarked, with a Jeter
ml nation to avoid personal topics.
"To be sure! It is Saturday! I had
forgotten! And why is he not at home:"
"I will show you why;" and she
fetched the telegram and gave it to him
•How mysterious! Quite like an
event In a novel! Has Mr. Mallett any
Idea aa to what It means'.'"
"Not a bit! I'm expecting him home
soon, and then w« shall hear all about
It"
"In which case I had better be off
It may be private family business, yoi>
know."
"I don't think papa would mind your
knowing. He looks upon you as a sin
cere friend. You are the only one he
baa cultivated within my memory."
Poor Ethel! She had unwittingly
I
brought down an avalanche upon her
self.
"You nee, he has a treasure beyond
price. In his keeping, and he guards i:
jealously."
For a moment the drift of his remark
did not strike her; she concluded he was
alluding to the secret of her father's
birth, which she had thought was
known only to Lord Summers. She was
surprised that he should know the se
cret; but she said nothing, and quietly
awaited an explanation.
Telling was slightly disconcerted by
her unexpected silence and her inquiring
gaze. He felt that he bad committed
himself in some way, and honestly re
gretted that he had been so indiscreet,
but he felt that he had gone too far to
recede, and therefore went on reckless
ly.
"Mr. Mallett is well aware that If a
man meets you often he must learn to
love you."
He stopped abruptly after this, and
noticed the quick flush that overspread
her face; then, impelled by an irresisti
ble impulse, he continued:
"I know I ougtit not to say this to
you without first speaking to Mr. Mai
lett; but he has been so kind to me that
1 have allowed myself to hope he would
not object to me as a son-in-law, be
yond the one great objection that ap
plies to every one — I should rob him of
you. Yet I would not even do that en
tirely. He should have his own rooms
in our home, and he could be with us as
often and as long as he liked. I would
make both so happy, if you would let
me! I would cherish you so tenderly
and take such care of you that an anx
ious thought should never come near
you, and the trouble in your face which
I cannot help seeing sometimes should
die from sheer inanition.".
He paused, while Ethel sat quite still,
her hands pressed closely together in
her lap, the flush still burning in her
cheek. He yearned to take her into his
arms and hold her there; but, reading
distress in her burning cheeks and avert
ed eyes, he determined not to press for
an answer to-day.
"I'm afraid I've worried and dis
tressed you. I'm very sorry. I won't
trouble you about it any more just now.
Try to think the best you can of what
I have said, and let us go on for a time
as we have been, good friends." He
rose from his seat,, and held out his
hand to her. ,
Ethel was touched more than' she
thought was possible by the unselfish
ness of his words. He had made no
allusion to his own feelings or suffer
ings, yet she knew the suspense he
would undergo if, matters were left as
they stood the-n. , She resolved to -tell
him everything, and let him decide.
"Don't go for a few minutes, please."
she besought him, nervously. "I have
something I ought to tell you. I have
loved some one else very dearly."
He looked gravely and pityingly at the ,
pretty flushed face; but there were no
signs of surprise as he answered:
"I guessed as much. You must for
give me for having played the spy; but
I loved you so dearly from the first mo- '
ment I saw you that I could not help
watching you, and I found it out. I
know that whoever is to blame for the
breaking off of this previous engage
ment, it is not you; and, in spite of the
fact of your having promised in the
past to be the wife of another, I am
longing to hear you repeat that promise
to me. If you can bring yourself to do
it, 1 will try my best to deserve my great
happiness by my devotion to you."
Again the thought rose in Ethel's
heart, "If I hail only known this man
before I knew Jack!" All that she could
find words to say was: "How good you
are!"
"Nay, I am afraid there Is no great
goodness in me; but 1 would try to be i
all goodness to you. Will you let me
try?"
Should she confess that she still suf
fered from the pangs vi slighted love? i
There whs a short struggle in her mind I
between pride and honesty. The latter
prevailed, and she rose from her sent,
and crossed to the fireplace. She held
the mantelboard (Irmly by one hand, and
then, regarding him steadily, she sold,
without a pause or tremor:
"You do not understand what it is I
want you to know. It is only very late
ly that my engagement with some one
else was broken off—SO lately. indeed
that I have not recovered from if. I
wish you to bear this in mind -that 1
am still sorry about it. At the name
time 1 know you have done me a great
honor, for 1 think you are true and hon
orable, and 1 believe that if 1 had time
to leave this sad memory behind me 1
could honestly accept you, and bring not ■
only my gratitude, but my love to our I
home; as things are just now 1 eel it ]
would not be right to say simply I would I
be your wife without letting you know
how it is with me.
Poor Ethel! Her heart was laid hare
now, and she trembled violently. Pelting
Came over to her and warmly took both
her bauds in his.
"My pearl among women!" he ex
claimed. "My pure, truthful, little love!"
v Her hands trembled in hi* firm clasp,
as he led her to her father's armchair
and went down upon hist knees, still hold
ing her hands tightly.
"Now, listen to me. my darling, and
when I say anything of which you dis
approve, stop me. I shall see your fath
er and explain everything to him; I
shall claim the privilege of doing what
I can to make your life a little brighter
and pleasanter in the present. 1 shall
not talk of love to you in any way;
but 1 shall let you see a good deal of
me la one shape or another. I will give
you plenty of time to get over your pres
ent sorrow, and I shall not look upon
yon as my affianced in the meantime;
but on« day, a few months hence, I ■hall
come again and ask the tame question
that I haTe asked to-day, and you »hall
answer me as truthfully a* you hare
done to-day, and then the matter akaH
be aettlad one way or the other."
Ethel, bluahing, made no reply; aad
the captala, leaning forward, hia face
all aglow with feeling, kissed her with
a gentle, lingering kiss.
"Heaven bless and keep you, my dar
ling!"
With these words ringing in her ears,
Kthel watched the captain as he hasten
ed from tbe room.
• HATTER XVII.
Mr. Mallett. in evident impatience,
walked up and down the confined space
between Daws' otlice table and the door.
Dawa bad refused to say anything in
the absence of the lady for whom he
was acting, mil whom he expected mo
mentarily.
The door opened behind him; ana,
turning round, be aaw Nanette breath
less and Hushed. unceremoniously enter
the room. He recognised her at once as
the mnid he had seen at Mallingford
Park on the previous dny. and he turned
n ducky red as the thought that lie had
been entrapped Into some backstair in
trigue against his niece passed through
his mind,
"But I am fortunate to find you here
still! I feared you would depart before
my arrival."
Mr. Mallett bowed slightly, and wait
ed for her to go on.
"Ah, I see!" cried the woman—"you
nre of the Mailing family"—he wiuced
—"and you have amazement in your
heart that I, a mean domestic, should
dare to make an appointment with you!
But you will hav<4 more amazement
when I tell you why 1 do this. Do you
know your niece, Miss Muling, very
well?"
Mr. Mallett drew himself up proudly.
"I came here to receive, information,
not to answer questions. If you have
brought me here thinking that I should
help in any scheme against my niece,
you arts mistaken. If you have any
news to impart which concerns me, I
will listen: if not, I will wish you good
afternoon."
He took his hat from the table and
turned to the door.
■jilut one moment! 1 have news to tell
you—news that concerns yourself very
dearly. What would you do if I were
to toll you that this woman who calls
lierself your niece is no niece at all. that
the whole estate is of right yours, that
your niece is dead and buried?"
She watched him keenly; but beyond
putting his hand suddenly on the back
of a chair near him, lie gave no sign of
surprise.
"1 should say that you labored under
a mistake."
"I am going to show you something
that will put you right on to the straight
track leading to this woman-a downfall
and your restoration to what has been
yours ever since your brother's death—
Mallingford Park."
Mr. Mallett drew a deep breath, and
then asked, laconically;
"And your price?"
Babette fell that there was a gleam
in the eyes watching her from behind
the table, and, she looked at Daws in
stinctively. He mistook tlve look to
mean, "You name the price," and he
said, immediately:
"One year's rent roll."
"In other words, between eleven and
twelve thousand pounds V" interrogated
Mr. Mallett.
Daws nodded his head affirmatively.
"The affair, so far as I am concerned,
is ended."
Habette glared for an instant at the
lawyer and muttered. "You vampire!"
Then turning to Mr. Mallett, she said,
in her best manner. "He is mistaken,
monsieur; the price arranged between us
was five thousand pounds on the day
you take possession."
"To be conferred bj deed of gift con
ditionally beforehand," put in the law
yer.
"Very good. I accept those terms on
the understanding that the lady iv ques
tion is proved to be an utter stranger
by blood."
"You will Rigti the undertaking before
\ou see our proof," Daws said, raising
the lid of his desk as he spoke, and
producing a ready-prepared document.
"We must have a disinterested witness
to the signature, if you please. Jb»
Blake, come here!"
A wretched lad sneaked from the
outer office into the room, watched Mr.
Mallett sign, put his own name to the
paper, and then shuffled out again.
"Now we can proceed to business,"
chuckled Daws. "The next move is
yours, Ma'maella Leatrange. It is plain
to lie seen that the whole thing is dis
tasteful to Mr. Mallett. He is a man of
refinement, and this companionship on
«n equality with people so immeasurably
his inferiors grates most disagreeably
on his sense of the BtQeSI of things."
(To tie continued.l
Whm Gofttlte'a Hwe.-tneart.
It is a little difficult to realize that
a sweetheart of the poet Goethe was*
still living only six years ago, yet
that such was the fact is recalled by
a German writer in T. P.'s Weekly.
Her name was Ulrica yon Levetsoff,
and at her death In 1880 she was in
her i«;th year, Goethe met her at
Marieubad, being then 7IS. He fell
seriously in love with the young girl
and proposed for her band, the grand
duke of Saxe-Weimar acting as his In
termediary.
Naturally enough Ulrica declined the
Offer, and < loci he (lid not press his
suit after the first rebuff. Neverthe
less, he could not dismiss the matter
from his mind, as is shown by a let
ter to a friend written some consider
able time later, llrica herself never
married. She is described as having
1 een a woman of much personal
Charm and of strong character.
Her Kiint lin iire-Hinri.
".lust to think," remarked Mr. Stubb,
stirring his coffee thoughtfully, "of the
Russian battleship Ktiiaz Poteinkin
cruising around with a red tiaj^ tit the
mast!" t
"It >*as rather unusual." replied
Mrs. Stubb. "Who cares to buy a bat
tleship «it auction?"
The vitality of seeds Is a constant
aource of astonishment to naturalists.
A pine forest when cleared away Is
often followed by a dense growth of
oaks or birches, but where the seed
comes from Is conjectural.
I, RABBI BEN HISSAR.
! Rabbi Ben-Hissar rod* one/ day
I j Beyond the city gates. His way
Lay toward a spot where hia own hand
Had buried deep within the sand
A treasure vast of gems and gold
He dared not trust to man to hold.
But riding in the failing light,
A pallid figure met his sight—
An awful shape— knew full well
'Twas the great Angel Aarael.
The dreadful presence froze his breath;
He waited tremblingly for death.
"Fear not!" the Angel said: "I bear
A message. Rabbi 15en-llissar,
1 One thing the Lord hath asked of thee
To prove thy love and loyalty.
Therefore now I am come to bring
Thy rarest jewel to thy King."
Rabbi Ren-llissar bowed his head.
"All that I have is his!" he said.
The Angel vanished. All that day
He rode upon his lonely way
Wondering much what precious stone
God would have chosen for His own.
But when he reached the spot, he found
No other hand had touched the ground.
Rabbi Ben-llissar looked and sighed.
"It was a dream!" he sadly cried.
"I thought that God would deign to take
Of my poor store for His dear sake.
But 'twas a dream! My brightest gem
Would have no luster meet for Him!"
Slowly he turned and took his way
Back to the vale where the city lay.
The path was long, but when he came
Unto the street which bore his name
He Raw his house stand dark and drear,
No voice of welcome, none of cheer.
He entered and saw what the Lord had
done.
Lo! Death had stricken his only eon!
(lay he lay. in the darkened hall,
On the stolid bier, with the funeral pall.
The pale death-angel Azrael
Had chosen a jewel that pleased him
well.
Rabbi Ben-llissar bent his head.
"I thank thee. Lord," was all he said.
— New York Press.
v X
I Kelly's Promotion !
$ t
©LD TOM KELLY had worked
for the X railway for nearly
fifty yours. Tom's earliest rec
ollection was one of the "choo ehoo"
cars whizzing past the window of the
shanty which served as his home and
that of Thomas Kelly, Sr.. section
hand on the Panhandle division.
When Tom was old enough to run
errands his father succeeded in get-
"TOM, HOW AKK YOU FIXED?"
ting him into the division superin
tendent's office as a messenger. That
was ages ago, and now 'Pom had been
depot master of the X for fifteen years
at one of its most Important western
terminals, and few strangers ever
came in or went out of the twminal
to register any kick. But time had laid
Its hand heavily upon Tom, and he
had grown totally Incompetent to per
form the duties which fell to his lot.
He was, however, a favorite with the
general passenger agent, nnd even the
president had a kindly feeling toward
the old man. The general passenger
•gent had spent several bad half hours
over Old Tom's case. lie hud finally
put off the evil day when summary
action would become necessary, by
giving the old man a young and able
assistant. This worked well for the
time being, hut traffic Increased to a
point where it became absolutely nee
ess;! ry id have an efficient depot mas
ter.
One day the president sent for the
general passenger agent and told him
that affairs fit the depot would have
to (neve more siuuothly.
••I would gladly make some changes
there and at other places," replied the
general passenger agent, '"if you
would only supply me with means of
pensioning a few old employes."
•You can't pension anyone on this
road." snapped the president, •and the
sooner you get that Idea out of your
head the better it will be for the serv
ice."
"What shall 1 do with some of the
•Id meu 1 have." persisted the general
passenger agent, "turn them out to
starve."
"The X railroad," said the presi
dent, "is not an eleemosynary insti
tution. The president, directors and
management of the road owe a very
high duty to the stockholders and
bondholders of the road. That duty,
sir, will not permit of our giving away
money where there Is no return."
"That's all very well," persisted the
general passenger agent, "but what
am I to do with the old "
"That is not my business," inter
rupted the president. "You will be ex
pected to jet th« work of your depart
ment d«ne properly, and It's up to you
to find the way. Besides that, you
must understand that the X railroad
owes no duty to a man who has been
employed by It for years and who has
not been provident enough to make
some provision for the future."
"That don't sound like the presi
dent" muttered the general passenger
agent us he left the office. "But I
guess it's all up with old Tom." That
afternoon old Tom responded to his
chief's summons with the same cheery
face that had endeared him to fellow
employes and to the public. The un- !
suspecting old man began to speak of I
former times and the general passen- 1
ger agent's pluck oozed out of his fin
ger tips.
"Tom," he said, "how are you
fixed?" l
"Bully," replied Tom. "We're get- ■
ting along famous at the depot, and I ■
don't know how things could be bet- i
ter."
Little by little the general passenger j
agent learned that all old Tom had in
the world to keep himself and wife
from starvation was his salary and a
board cottage on a bleak portion of the
Atlantic coast near Salem, Mass.
"You've been working long enough.
■ Tom," declared the general passenger
agent. "The president has suggested
that you retire on half pay. Could you
live on the beach at that price?"
Old Tom was the happiest man alive.
Half pay and life in his seaside cot
tage had been his dream for some
time. Several months after Tom's sue- {
cessor had been appointed the presi
dent chanced to note Tom's absence I
from the depot. He had misgivings
and hastily sent for the general pas
senger agent.
"Where's Old Tom Kelly?" he de
manded.
"Well, you know what you told me
the other day about pensions and get- i
ting the work of my department done
at any cost. I remember you said the I
sooner the men understood that the i
road didn't want fellows who were I
looking for pensions in their old age
the better " |
"Oh, I know all about that, but
whore's old Tom Kelly? I haven't seen I
him about the depot of late."
"Tom had become entirely Incompe
tent and I had to supersede him."
"Yon don't mean to toll me," de
nian ,1 the president angrily, "that
you have fired poor old Tom Kelly?
Why, man, he was working for this
road when 1 was a boy. He was too
good a follow to ever save a cent, and
he never refused to help any man who'
needed help and many who didn't. i
How in thunder did you dare to tire
the old man?"
"I did not say that I fired him."
"What did you do with him, then?"
"Well, as there was no pension sys
tem on this blamed old road, I pro-'
muted him."
"What's old Tom doing now?" asked
the president us a smile of satisfaction
stole over his face.
"1 have promoted him to the posi
tion of advertising representative of
the X road for the town of Salem
Mass."
"Oh, you did, did you?" grunted the
president in satisfaction. As the gen- '
em! passenger agent was about. to j
close the office door the president call
ed to him:
"By the way, old Tom was Just the j
man for that job."—Chicago Record- '
Herald. |
THE BOY AND THE SHARK.
How a Plump I-Htle Darky Nar
rowly Kucaped.
The yellow fever was raging In the
city of Vera Cruz that year, says St."
Nicholas, and one of the large West
Indian liners which arrived on a cer-!
tain day was obliged to anchor off in '
the harbor. A small boat, known as ,
a dingy, floated astern, and in this an
active young colored boy of about 15
was busily at work washing off the
seats. The boat lurched over with a
sudden dip as the boy bore his weight'
on one of the thwarts, and Pedro |
heard a warning shout from the steam
er's deck Just In time to give one ter
rified glance around and to hear a
noise he knew only too well.
Without an instant's hesitation he
jumped overboard from the opposite
side of the boat. For as he looked he
caught sight of the Jaws of a great
shark which, spying this tempting
morsel of a plump little darky boy,
had leaped toward the careened boat
with open mouth. So vigorous was
the shark's leap that as Pedro went
over one side of the boat the shark
flopped in at the other. Not being
used to these surroundings, and miss
ing his prey, he floundered around un
til bis head bore down the gunwale
and he slid from the careening boat
Into the sea again before the people
on the steamer could fling a harpoon
at him. Almost as he disappeared
poor Pedro's head popped up on the
opposite side of the boat and, in a
terrible fright, he clambered into the
dingy again, as thoroughly scared a
young darky as ever had a narrow es
cape.
Had he not thus saved himself from
the maueater, help from the steamer
would have been necessary and even
then it is more than probable that the
boy would not have been saved. This
is a remarkable Instance of th« feroc
ity of a shark seeking his prey out of
the water.
Heard It Before.
"Johnny," said Mr. Oldham, who
was courting a young widow, "you art)
a fine, manly little chap."
"Yes," said the widow's small sob,
scornfully, "that's the same chestnut
all the old guys spring that hang
around here tryin' to cop out ma."
Cleveland Leader.
We blame our faults on our ances
tors just aa they blamed their fault*
on their ancestoM.
WWEEKtT
1005-St. Peter's church. Westmlnst,,
dedicated by Edward the Conf»
sor. w
Thomas a'Becket, archbishop *
Canterbury, assassinated in tk.
cathedral, j w
1278—Injunction issued by Primate o!
England against public prayer to
little girls on Christmas day.
1377—Wickliff divulged hi opinion „
I the Pope's mandate. ■ •
' 1535—Society of Jesuits founded bi
I Ignatius Loyola.
1552—Catherine Yon Bora, wife of Mir
tin Luther, died.
1591—Pope Innocent X. died.
1594—Expulsion of the Jesuits frou
Paris.
1601 —Kinsale, Ireland, surrendered tt
I the English.
1652— First newspaper sanctioned li
I Russia.
; 1661—Earl of Argyle imprisoned foi
I high treason.
—Mary, Queen of England, died of
smallpox.
1709— Empress Elizabeth of RusiU
I born. Died on this date la 1761
j 1714—George Whitefleld born.
1737— Singular rising and sinking of land
noticed at Scarborough, England,
1765— Francis Edward. the xPr»
tender, son of James 11. of Eng
land, died.
1773—Meeting at Philadelphia declared
that the Polly, with a cargo ol
tea, should not land.
11806 —Russians entered Bucharest.
1 1800—William E. Gladstone born.
—American warship Constitute
captured British ship Java.
1813— Fire In Buffalo, N. V., destroy
100 houses.
1814 Schooner Carolina blown up ti
Mississippi by the British.
—Emperor Alexander of Rutili
granted right to peasants to «■
rage in manufacturing.
1828 Procession of free negroes li
Philadelphia escorting an Afrieil
prince returning to Liberia
Rowland . Stephenson, Britlsk
banker and member of Parlia
ment, embezzled $1,000,000.
1831—Hereditary peerage abolished la
France.
1834 First reformed British Parliament
dissolved.
1835—Battle of Tampa Bay.
1837— Imperial palace at St. Petersburg
burned.
—Texas admitted to the Union.
1846—Constitutional charter of X»w
Zealand granted.
1854—Thomas W. Dorr, leader of Dorr!
i Rebellion, died.
1857— Bombardment and capture of
Canton, China, by English and
French forces.
1859 — Lord Macauley died, aged 59.
1870—Marshal Prim executed at Mad
rid.
1874— Alphonso XII., father of thi
present ruler, proclaimed King ol
Spain.
1876— Great railroad accident at Asht*
bula, Ohio.
—Severe earthquake felt in Austri* !
and Spain.
1894 Ex-Senator James G. Fair died
.... Several killed in tile burning
•f the Delavan haase, Albany,
N. T.
—Extradition treaty ketweea United
States and Brazil ratified
E. V. Smalley, celebrated jour
nalist, died.
190*— Mrs. Isabel A. Mallon (Ruth Alh
more), author, died Senator
Justin S. Morrill of Vermont died,
aged 89.
WONDERFUL OKLAHOMA CROPS.
In One County Alone They Will B»
--ceed In Value 916,000,000.
It is only a few years since the world
was looking on at the rush of settlen
into the newly opened lands of Okla
homa. No one then dreamed that one
county alone of the new territory would
produce in 1905 crops in value to exceed
$10,000,000. This is the record of Greet
county, the southwest county of Okla
homa, for this year.
The cotton crap now on board thi
cars or ready to leave the county I*
about 65,000 bales, worth $60 a bait.
This, with the value of the cotton feed
at $16 a ton, amount to $4,420,000. Tki
oat crop is worth fully $3,000,000. Tht
c«rn and kafflr yield is* worth anothtr
$3,000,000.
These leading crops, therefore, exceed
In value $10,000,000. Besides these the»
is half a million bushels of whe:it, great
quantities of garden truck, cattle, hofi.
horses, poultry, dairy products *»'
broom corn.
In m Preniy.
Just as the collection had been tafc«
up by old Deacon Smlff one of tb»;
members was observed to be danclnf
around the pew and wildly pulling M»
harr.
"What am de trouble wld Brudd»»
Sparks?" whispered the parson.
"Frenzied finance, pawson," wbif
pered the deacon; "frenzied finance."
"Frenzied finance?"
"Sho 1. He thought be done dropP*4
a penny ln de collection, en now h»»
Anna dlscobehed et was s dime."
