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The Millheim Journal,
PUBLISHED EVERY THURBDAY BY . iL. Office in the New Journal Building, Penn St.,near Hart man'B foundry. *I.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, OR $1.26 IF NOT PAID IN ADV ANCH. Acceptable Correspondence Solicited ' Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL. BUSINESS CARDS- IIARTEE, Auctioneer, MILLIIEIM, PA. "J~ B. STOVER, Auctioneer, Madisonburg, Pa. -yy H.REIFBNYDER, Auctioneer, MILLIIEIM, PA. J. W. STAM, Physician & Surgeon Office on I'enn Street. MILLIIEIM. PA. 13 R J ° HN F HARTKR ' Practical Dentist, Office opposite the Methodist Church. MAIN STREET, MILLIIEIM PA. GEO. L. LEE, Physician & Surgeon, MADISONBURG, PA. Office opposite the Public School House. r -yy. P. ARD, M. D.. WOODWARD, PA. DEININGER, Notary-Public, Journal office, Penn at., Millheim, Pa. Ay Deeds and other legal papers written and acknowledged at moderate charges. J. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Having had many years 1 of experiencee the public can expect the best work and most modern accommodations. Shop opposite Millheim Banking House MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. Q_EORGE L. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Corner Main & North streets, 2nd door, Millheim, Pa. Shaving, Haircutting, Shampooning, Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac tory manner. Jno.H. Orvls. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orvls QRVIS, BOWER & OR VIS, Attorneys-at-Law. BELLEFQNTE, PA., Office in Woodings Building. D. H. Hastings. W. F. Reeder. jJASMQS 4 REEDER, Attornejs-at-Law, BELLKFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of the office ocupied by tbe late firm of Yocum A Hastings. T U. MEYER, Attorney-at-Lav, BELLKFONTE PA. At theOffloe of Ex-Judge Hoy. C. HEINLE, Attorney-at-Lav BELLKFONTE, PA. Practices In all the courts of Centre couwtyr Special attention to Collections. Consultations 1 n German or English. ___________ J A.Beaver. J.W.Gephart. JgEAVER & GEPHART, Attorneys-at-Law, BELLEFONTB, PA. Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street JGROCKKRHOFF HOUSE, ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA. 0. G. McMILLEN, PROPRIETOR. Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free BUBS to and from all trains. Special rates to witnesses and jurors. QUMMINS HOUSE, BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA., EMANUEL BROWN, PROPRISTOB House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev erything done to make guests comfortable. Ratesraodera** tronage respectfully solici ted 5-ly yRVIN HOUSE, (Most Central Hotel in the city.) CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS LOCK HAVEN, PA. S.WOODSOALDWELL PROPRIETOR. Good samtple rooms (or commercial Travel -ors;on first floor. R A. BUMILLEII, Editor VOL. 60. JOHN'S STORY. 'Well, would you like to hear my ad venture in New Orleans?' John Bi ight leaned his elbow on the arm of the red plush chair in which he sat, with a thoughtful look in his dark eyes. 'Why, yes, of course.' 'By all means.' Eugene Carthon and his sister look ed eagerly at the handsome, blonde hi front of them. They had been talking about the New Orleans exposition, which all had visited the winter before,and naturally their conversation had drifted into per sonal reminiscences and crilicisistns on the ways and manners of the people of that beautiful Southern city. 'Did you really have an adventure ?' asked Nell, eyeing him questioningly from under her long daik lashes. They had intended to meet in the Crescent city, but through some misunderstand ing theCarthon family had missed him. Nell had always lelt a little aggrieved oym this, just as if John had really been to blame in the matter, and all allusion to their sojourn in the South brought back that vague feeling of dis appointment which had mingled itself with all her enjoyments while there. Not that she cared anything for John Bri. ht. Oh, no ; not even to herself did she ever admit that. But then he was Eugene's most intimate friend,and he was such a bright, companionable fellow, how could she help liking him a little ? 'just for Eugene's sake, you know.' She sincerely believed that it was her love for her brother that made her so solicitous always for his fiiend's comfort and so anxious to make him always feel at home and thoroughly welcome in her father's htmse. 'Well, go on with your story,' said Eugene, lighting a cigarette, with his sister's permission, and puffing away expectantly. 'l'll be getting drowsy, presently, if you don't wake me up with your thrilling episode.' 'Well'—John twirled his blonde mus tache reflectively, ignoring the last re mark—'l was walkiug down Canal street one afternoon, when it began to rain, not violently,but enough to make a man feel uncomfortably, and the feathers on a woman's bonnet limp. Fortunately I had an umbrella, which, of course. I immediately raised. Just as I did so, a young lady came out of the large dry-goods fc'.ore behind me. She stood irresolute for a moment as though nonplussed by tbe rain, yet an evident anxiety possessed her to reach the car. 'lnstantly I found myself in astiange dilemma. What should Ido ? There was a youog lady, delicate and beauti ful, richly attired in garments which the rain would certain'y damage, with out the slightest protection from the elements; while I, not three feet dis tant, was of an umbrella amply large enough to shelter two. It seems like a piece of impertinence, yet on the impulse of the moment I mus tered all my gallantry, and, stepping foiward, offered to escort her to the car. 'To my surprise, and I mu9t say pleasure, she accepted gratefully, and we walked to the corner to meet the car. I noted then the extreme loveli ness of her beauty, which was of the pure Creole type, and the marvelous finish of her toilet, which showed in its richness of coloring the Southern taste. I could not censure her for her hesita tion in exposiug herself to the disas trous effects of the rain. 'When we reached the corner there was no car,' John contined. 'Being iu 'Mardi-gras' time, there was always more or less delay. When the car did arrive it was so crowded that there was not a footho'd. The next and the next proved to be the 9ame. Unconsciously we walked on, the young lady by aa al most imperceptible guidance directing our footsteps. We walked along the Rue Royal quite lot > tlie heart of the old French town,the young lady scarce ly seeming aware of the fact that we had traversed so many blocks. I was too delighted with her bright conversa tion and naiyette to wish to undeceive her, and so we walked along until she stopped suddenly in front of one of those gloomy French houses, so dreary iu exterior appeal ance, but often beau tiful and gay within. A high wall sur rounded the dwelling, surmounted by nails driven in so that tbe points pro jected upward,a sure safeguard agajnst marauders. As u9ual, a high balcony graced the front of the house. From the gate —a massive iron-barred one -a stone pave led up to the old-fashioned door. ' 'I feel very giateful,' ' she said,lift ing her big eyes to mine with a shadow of timidity in their depths which made them all the lovelier; 'and,'she hesitat ed a little, 'I know my father would wish to thank you also, if—if ' ' 'lf you only knew whom to thank,' I added, with a conscious shame at my own lack of courtesy. Now, I don't know wbat prompted me to the acbiou, MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY. APRIL 15., 1886. but instead of handing tier my own card, 1 nave her one of Frank Smith's, a young fejlow rooming with me at- the St. Charles, a drummer for a large firm in Detroit. His name graced the card in full, and also 'Tremoine & Leeman,' the name of the linn he was connected with. It was a foolish thing to do, yet I never expected to see the young lady again, and I suppose it occurred to mo that it would be a good j >ke o:i Smith. 'To my great astonishment, she rec ognized the tirm name. 'You must come in and see my fatn er.'-she said. 'Mr. Tremolno is an old friend of ours,and he will be so delight ed to see you.' 'lnto what kind of a scrape had I got ten myself V I declined as courteously as possible, trying to hasten away ; but just then an old gentleman appeared at the door, in answer to our ring at the gate, for, as you remamher, in New Orleans most of the liells are on the front gate. 'ln a few words the young lady ex plained the situation. With a true Southed! hospitality he invited me to enter, thanking me in most voluble terms for uiy Kindness to his daughter. Seeing I would offr-nd by not accepting their invitation,l stepped in with them. As usual in those French houses, the hall leu into a little barren-looking court. From this, however, we enter ed into an apartment elegantly furnish ed. 'A servant took my umbrella and hat and the old gentleman pushed forward a handsome easy chair for me, seating himself near me. The young lady dis appeared, reappearing in a little while in a charming diuuer-dress of garnet satin. *1 confess I was a little daz j d by the sudden turn affairs had taken, and the tetea tetc with the old gentleman [whose name I ascertained to be De Chartre] was most embarrassing, for he asked me a score of questions about Detroit and the people there, all of which I, never having been in that city, was o bliged to answer at random, or from vague reminiscences of what Smith had told me casually. 'I tried in vain to turn the subject, and had almost given myself up to a desparatc fibbing, when I chanced to perceive that a piano was behind me. During a momentary lull in the con versation, in which Do Chartre was probably frying to reconcile my iam bling information with his own knowl edge and conjectuies, 1 turned to the young lady, requesting some music. •To my iclief ;lie consented immedi ately, thus saving her father from any further surprises in the way of chaotic guessing on my part. Bhe sang and played quite prettily, and I found my self even more prepossessed than I had been at first. 'After she had played several songs,! rose to go, but as I did so, dinner was announced, and I was urgently invited by them both to remain. Again I saw that to refuse would be to offend, so,in order to preserve Smith's reputation from further damage, I accepted, re solving that I would exert mv talents to the utmost in being entertaining. You see, I wanted them to speak a good word for Smith if ever they should chance to communicate with this Tremoine, whom I heartily wished at the bottom of the sea. 'After dinner we adjourned to the parlor—that is, the young lady and my self—the old gentleman going off for a smoke, in which I declined to join him. 'The rain, which had be in uiild at first, now turned into a raging torrent. It beat savagely against the windows, and the wind swept mournfully through the court. Now and then it crept un der the doors and into the room, bring ing a faint scent of the mange blooms that were being swept from their stems on the bending tiees without. But the inclemency of the weather out side only made the comfort and bright ness of the apartment s em more per fect. 'With such a charming hostess the moments sped swiftly. I became more and more intliralled witn her dark eyes and her gracious manner, so typical of the grace which has made the Creole women celebrated. I don't know to what length I might have committed myself, had not the door opened and Monsieur de Chartre once more appear ed upon the scene. As it was, I think be surprised me saying some foolishly tender things to his daughter. •I'looked at my watch. A flush of shame crept over me. It was past ten o'clock. 1 fe't that I had infringed on the hospitality extended to me. 1 be gan to apologize, but Monsieur de Chartre stopped me. 'My dear sir,' he said, cordially, 'you cannot go out in such a storm. I will not permit it. My home is large. We have ample accommodations. Remain with us to-night.' 'I thanked him sincerely. I could not feel grateful enough for such a warm and cordial hospitality. It is true indeed that these Southerners A PAPER FOR THE lIO.MK CIRCLE have the kindest and must hospitable hearts in the wnild. An old and valu ed friend could scarcely hive bee-; treated more kindly than I, a complete stranger, save for the slight stamp of genuineness which 'Treinome A Lee man 7 gave me in this unst elegant and beautiful home, every part of which betakened the wealth and posi tion of the owner. 'A few moments later Jacques came to show me to my room. With a lin gering glance, 1 bade the young lady good-night. It seemed to me thai her beautiful eyes were til led with a shadow of regret for our brief acquaintance. Her father followed me to the court without,giving me several messages for Mr. Tremoine and other friends in De troit, all of which I promised to carry faithfully. Then, with a courtly good night, he intrusted me to tho care of the waiting attendant." 'My apartment was handsomely fur nished, in keeping with the rest of the house. It was apparently a back room connected with ono in the front of the house by heavy folding doors, across which a red crimson portiere fell. '.Jacques brought me a pitcher of fresh water and some clean towels, and then, mumbling something in his unin telligible Creole French, bo wed him sol f out. 'I examined the room carefully,! Hik ed all the do us except the folding one, which I found fastened on the other side, and went to sleep thinking what a capital j ike that w*s on Smith, who wasuudoubtedly reposing beautifully in No. 10b, at the St. Charles,unconscious of the strange escapade I had gotten him into. I resolved to wi ite to the young lady as soon as I left the city,in forming her of my little deception, and introducing the original Smith, whom I was quite sure would fall head over ears in love with her at first sight. Poor Smith ! I was just mapping wit his future mo.A beautifully, when Morpheus seized ine and carried uie off into dreamland. •About midnight I was awakened by a slight noise in the room. A terrible presentment took possession of me. I dared not move for a second. My knees trembled, the cold drops of moistnre stuod oi. my brow. I lay shivering as though chilled bv some actual, iey touch for a moment, then ray healthy, vigorous physique reasserted itself I was no coward even to myself. I rose stealthily and crept to the light,turning the full blazs on suddenly. 4 A change in the room startled mo. Tne heavy portiere was thrown aside, the folding-doors stood wide open. Re solved tojpenetrate this mystery,l step ped into the other room. 'A cry of horror escaped me .is I did so. 1 stood in the middle of the floor, petrified, the very blood freezing in my veins. There on the bed lay a man with his throat gashed from ear to ear, the red blood oozing slowly upon the white counterpane andthe'rich car pet beneatn. His wide ees were up turned to the ceiling, his white face transfixed with the death agony. 'For a second I stood there as if froz en to the spot, my senses reeling, my hands clinched in a sudden agony ot mortal terror; then like all ish of I'ght ning the truth swept over me. A ter rible crime had been committed. The responsibility was to be laid on me. In the morning the police would come to arrest me. What vestige of power would I have to disprove it ? 'With a sudden, quick energy, born of desperation, 1 went to my room and diesstd myself,leaving-not the slightest trace ot my presence there. Assuring myself that not a card or a slip of paper was left as a clew to my indentity, I took my boots in ray hand and crept noiselessly down the stairway. 'When Ireached the door beyond the cnirt I shrank back in dismay. I had forgotten it would be locked and bar red. I entered the apartment where I had b en entertained the night before, hoping to find a window unbolted. To my surprise I heard voices and perceiv ed a light emanating from the room ad joining. The door between was slight ly ajar. 1 walked breathlessly across the room and peeped through the crev ice. 'Horror of horrors ! What did 1 see there? The flue,courtly old gentlemau of the night before seated at a faro table, surrounded by a montlep crowd —and my fine young lady,the brilliant, sweet-voiced enchant ress of the dinner table, dealing out faro blanks,opposite! 'lt wa9 enough. 1 turned away, re alizing then that I was in New Orleans, i had gotten into one of the worst dens of the French city, and the beautiful Creole was probably one of tho notoi i ous characters I li id so often read of. •No wonder my blood ran cold. What if I could not escape'"' These • were desperate characters with whom I could not cope. The outlook was ter rifying, 'I tried each window cautiously. They all resisted my efforts to raise them; all but the last—that yielded a little. I struggled mightily, with the strength of despair. In doing so my hand touched a spring which I had not perceived befoie. In an instant the shadow was pushed up noiselessly, and with a stealthy bound I I aped through, landing unhurt on the ground a few feet lielow. 'But what to do next? There was that wall, surrouoded by its rows of sharp nails. It would have been mad ness to liaye attempted to scale it. The gate was barred and fastened with a heavy chain. I could not cry out for assistance; that would li iye meant cer tain death from those desperate, dark browed men at the faro table. What should Id)? Again Lite cold drops of moisture dampened my temple. 1 was frantic. What should I doP John stopped in his narrative and lit the cigarette Eugene had handed liiin a little while before. 'What did you do?' Eugene was imuatieut of the delay. lie leaned for ward anxiously. llis own cigarette had gone out. He had forgotten it in his absorbing interest 'Yes, what did you do ?' Nell re peated the question with aterrible anx iety in her brown eyes. Iler Kernsing; ton lay unheeded on the flior, her el bows rested on her knets, ono hand supporting her dimpled, eager face. Her breath came short, and fast. She awaited the sequel with sympathizing, anxious eyes. 'Why'—John cave an energetic pufT at Ids cigarette—'l woke !' Eugene sank back in his chair, and Nell collapsed physically and mentally, picking up her work with a disgusted air. 'Sold, by Jove !' exclaimed Eugene, after a pause, looking admirably at his friend. 'lt is tho best sell of the season. 1 'Oil, you horrible wretch 1' cried Nell, when she had recovered her breath ; 'and so it was all a dieam ?' 'Yes,' answered John, coldly. 'I a woke in No. 10), at the Sr. Charles, with Smith asking me if I mistook him for a brick wall or a lamp p>st, that I was p miiding him so vig irously." . Nell did not seem to care much for the sell s > long as the beautiful Creole bad proved a myth. The story had awakened her consciousness a little, and she seemed a little shyer of John for several days afterward. But I am happy to say that she was a sensible gnl, and when John asked her if she only loved him for 'Eugene's sake,' she answered candidly 'No.' Thus came the sequel to 'John's Story.' Household Hints. When clothes are scorched remove the "stain by placing the garment where the sun can shine on it. When purchasing meat, always have the trimmings sent home, as they help to make soups and sauces. Every scrap ol meat aud bone left from roasts and broils should be saved for the soup pot. Meat should not be placed directly on ice, as the ""Water draws out the juices. Always place it in a pan, and this may be set on the ice. The hab it of putting steaks, chops, etc., on ice in wrapping paper is a bad one. If you are obliged to use a gridiron or frying-can that has previously been used for fish, and still has the pungent odor of the fish clinging to it, you can remove it instantly by first heating it and then rubbing it over with a bit of onion. The onion will absorb the flavor of the fish, but will not leave the least disagreeable taste of its own. If, from any cause, butter becomes rancid, to each print of it add one tablespoon ot salt and one of soda and mix well, then add one pint of cold water, and set on the fire until it comes to the boiling point. Now set away to cool, and when cool and hard, take off the butter in a cake. Wipe dry and put away for cooking purpo ses. It will be perfectly sweet. Wax can be taken out of carpets by several very simple methods. Lay a thick piece of blotting paper over the wax and apply a hot iron to it; the paper will absorb the wax that is melted by the heat. If, in doing this, any dark traces should remaiu on the carpet, rub a little benzoline carefully on, drying the same with a cloth. Another method is to drop a few drops of boiling water immediately on the spots and dry after with a cloth ; care must be taken that the colors in the carpet will stand hot water. Green is the most dangerous color to fear. WANTED. —A lot of Cloyerseed at D, S. Kauffman & Co's store. Fair price paid. Bring it iu. Terms, SlOO.per Year, in Advance. iVJay Childron Go Barefoot ? This question is every now and agaiii proposed for discussion / and, when it is so, we are compelled to give the s.im e answer. On physiologic d grounds it is niamfttstly a sound practice to noens torn children to develop the circulatory and in oscular systems of the lower ex tremities, precisely as those of the hand are developed, by free use and exposure. It is not supposed to beeitlier necessary or desirable that children should.wear gloves for hygienic purposes. When the hands of the little folks are thus decorated, the parental idea is confes sedly to give thorn wh tt is convention ally regarded as a genteel appearance. No one thinks a child ought to be pro tected from the weather so far as its hands are concerned. On the contrary, it is recognized that tiie upper extremi- j ties should be kept warm by exercise J and habitual exposure. Precisely tlie same view iiolds good with regard to the lower extremities. Contact with bodies that abstract heat, even more than the eaitli abstracts it, is an almost constant condition of'child life. In short, it Is entirely in defer- , ence to fashion and the usage* of socie ty that children wear foot coverings. There is much to 1)3 said in favor of a more natural practice. The foot is an organ of woudious complexity, regard ed as a bony uud muscular apparatus. It is, moreover, provided with nerves and blood vessels of especial intricacy. The softest and most flexible shoe, to a very great, extent, and a boot almost entirely, reduces this organ to the char acter of a jointed block with little self movement. Obviously this reduction must detract not only from the effi :ien cy of the foot, but of the orgmfam as a whole. If the blood vessels of the foot and legs are fully developed, as they can only when the foot is habitually exposed, the quantity of blood which the lower extremities can be made to receive and, if need be, attract for a time, is very considerably. We can only say that children who are allowed to g<> barefooted enjoy aI. most perfect immunity from the danger of 'cold' by accidental chilling of the feet, and they are altogether healthier and happier than those who, in obed ience to the usages f social life, have their lower extremities permanently invalided, and. so tc say, carefully swathed and put away in rigid cases. As regards the poorer classes of chil dren, tlu?re can be no sort of doubt iu the mind of any one that it ic incompar ably better that they should go bare footed than wear boots that let in the wet and stockings Lh.it are nearly al ways damp and foul.—London Lancet. The Buffalo in Colorado. The buffalo which has long been known as the noblest animal native to this region, has become almost extinct, having been hunted to death, and is now found mostly in portions of Mon tana and Dakota. It is a mild, shy an imal, its characteristics being similar to those domestic cattle. The male is a proud strong-minded animal, and is fa mous for its magnificent proportions and stately air. Buffalo can ruu no faster than horses, and are thus easily overtaken and captured. Hunters spring upon them from behind bluffs; they become startled, and rush head long in the greatest confusion, b7 rea son of which they always take the wrong course, and are almost invaria bly captured. They are so scarce now that their heads are very valuable. six years ago these heads sold for $7, now they sell for froms 75 to $l5O. They are consid ered invaluable in a matter of collec tions, none, however small, being con sidered complete without them. Last year an Englishman who was visiting Colorado paid the exorbitant price of $250 for a pair ot beads which he bought here, and considered the finest he had ever seen. The buffalo in the mountains are much darker than those on the plains. They are of a rich brown color, the shades in their fur varying from the darkest to the palest brown. Between these shades there are many loyely golden hues of a deep color, which are never so well seen as when the skins'are spread out before an open, b'azing fire. The reflection of the firelight brings out the varying .shades as nothing else will, and makes them a subject of universal comment among lovers of the beautiful. A Very Suoce3sful Case. First Lawyer—"Ah, Dobkius how did you come out in that case you were just beginning when I went out ?" Second Lawyer—"Gloriously. It was a perfect success ; created a great sen sation ; papers full of it; got lots of ad vertising out of it. I think it was the making of my future." "Good ! Glad to near it, old fellow. I knew you had the stuff in you: and, by the way, what did they do with your client V" "Oh, they hanged h\va. y '—Chicago News. —First-class job work done at the JOURNAL office. NO. 15 i! NEWSPAPER UWB . OA If HubscddeJt order till di&mjtfcnislJiOi at newspapers, the ptinltshenf may t'oiltlnne to • send jhieio until all arrearages are paid. If sul>M?rH>ers refuse or neizleet to fate their newspapers frninthedlUi* to wlitoftttnyitfoaoitti 1 L they are held responsible until they have tied forming the imbhHurj went tin in iupu|* mrrs *' Mfit to the former place, they are res|Miib)hle. ; i u IJL-J i nunm in jiin tafr „ . ApVBBTiaUU} RATES. w „ „ M*lf. 1 nWrl" SrtMa d mm. h ym" ?•• its s sw : a ss One inch ma km a sqtsim Aitntfafettt'SttfoV * and K\w'Utovs Notices #2/0. Transient adyer- , tiseinentsn id locals 10 cents pen Hue for lr4 . Insertion and 5 Cents per line for each addition al Insertion A BKMfAUL A Tramp Finds $4,000 Worth of Diamonds. * 11l I I 111 ■ ** " S * ..!§•* One day after I had been banging around for several weeks as a gentle man of leisure, says a tramp in the De troit Free Pre#* i a policeman ran me fix as a vagrant. Next morning the judge heard mr .story und asked ; ? 4 < 4 A re you a good traveler V 'Spleud.d.' . ImH I Do you want to travel ?' . 'I do.' ! ' •Then you shall have an oppor tunity.' V ■ I had heard a good deal about De troit at.d its kindues* to tramps, and when I left Chioago I headed for the Fast. Before getting clear of the city I stole a copy of the morning paper o lt a door-step and after n walk of three hour* I sat down to t>ost op. Jkune tramps don't oare for Hie news of the day, but 1 have always felt it to bs my duty to look oyer the dailies whenever I had a chance, and to read everv line of them, from congressional proceed ings to advertisements, it so happen ed thai oue of the ftrst things In this pauer to attract my alteulkm was ihe following : •Three thousand dollars reward— Lost, on the l.'Uh instant, from a win dow of a coach on the Michigan Cen tral, west of FuWraan, a reticule con taining diamands. The tinder will receive the above rewaul. Communi cate with A. IL, Room 412, Palmer House, Chicago.' This wa3 the lttth. Five days had elapsed since the loss, and it was prob able that a dozen people had been sent to 6earch over every rod of the track. I had no more idea of finding that trea sure than you have of flying, but as I continued my way up the track i kept my eyes peeled. I put in five miles of walking and then sat down to rest again. It was midsummer, and my old boots distress ed my feet. I came to a spot where a small creek was crossed by the tracks, and I followed it down to the fence to find a place to wash my feet. Just at the tence was a deep hole and a shady spot, and I tell you it did my old feet good to sit there and paddle the soft and cooling waters. I had been there twenty minutes when a bird dew down on the feuce and hopped from that to a stick of driftwood to secure a drink. I was sitting stiff as a stone, not want iug to alarm him, when all of a sudden my eye fell upon that lost lady's reti cule. It was jammed among a lot of light driftwood held against the fence. I wasn't half a minute getting posses sion of it. The bag was provided with a lock, and I out with my knife and cut a hole into it. Out fell the dia monds—rings, pius, bracelets, studs and a gold watch set with flashing stones. I could hold all in one hand, and Jerusha ! but didn't the stones sparkle and flash and shimmer and bring my heart up into my throat ! I sat there for ten minutes without dar ing to move, far fear those sparklers would suddenly disappear, but by and by my nerves came back and I made up my miud what to do. I had never thought of appropriating the jewels to my own use, but was in a hurry to re turn to Chicago. I wrapped the reticule up in the pa per, put the diamonds in my pocket, and at 2 o'clock that night I was in front of the Palmer house. I was about to enter when a hand was laid on my shoulder and a gruff voice called out: 'Now, then, what are you trying to get away with V It was a policeman, and he had spot ted me for a thief. 'l'm carrying a parcel to a gentleman in here.' I replied. 'Ah ! you are ! Who might it be ?' 'His name is Brown.' 'Oh lit is. Come along, my fine fel low.' 'His name is Brown, and his room is 112. Come in with me. If I have lied to you you can take me iu.' He hesitated for a moment and then entered the hotel with me. As we reached the desk he asked of the clerk : 'Does a Mr. Brown occupy 112.' 'No, sir,' was the reply. 'Now, you rascal, come along,' growled the as he seized my arm. It's the A. B. of room 112 who lost the diamonds 1' I shouted to the clerk as I was being dragged away. 'Here—wait ! What do you know of the diamouds ?' ' Here's the reticule, sir, and I have the jewels in my pocket. I found them along the railroad track.' Well, you ought to see how mad that policeman was, and how glad A. B. was, and how tickled I was when $3,- 000 was counted in my hands. 1 went out of the tramping busiuess and start ed a shop, but at the end of two yearß w is cleaned out by the hard times and had to go back to Foot & Walker's line again. I'm there yet, and, if this bit of adventure, scribbled off in a tramp's lodging on a rainy afternoon, is worthy of publication, giye it a place.— Del wit Free Press.