The Philipsburg mail. [volume], April 04, 1895, Image 2

About The Philipsburg mail. [volume] (Philipsburg, Mont.) 1887-current

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MAIL. PUBLISHING CO.
PHILIPSBURG, : MONTANA.
AFEl:a all, the best of us must ad.
mit that we take less interest in the
big theater hat than in what the hat
contains.
THE unspeakable Turk may not be
wholly bad, as Low Wallace insists,
but it is rather an unfavorable time
to offer information of that sort.
RUssEir, SAAlE explains that the
$550,000 he drew from 1he treasury
was for a private personal use. Per
haps Mr. Sage had a ,lumber's hill to
pay.
NEW YOla kept the dirtiest streets
in the country th19roughout the winter:
finally employed 5,(000 outside labor
ers to clean thlem, and now won't pay
the laborers.
Tm Maineo ]egislature decided that
people can't die of -heart failure" in
that state hereafter. TIhey must have
some more specific ailment or go else
where to shuffle off.
Tr is announced that Bioston atr
John L,. Sullivan are permanently c~t
tranged. Beans, bruising and beli,:
lettre: those three: but the greatest of
these is no longer bruising.
T'ilt; New York lHecorder suggests
an international life-saving prize fund
for saving shipwrecked life at sea.
The idea is excellent, as it would
cause every derelict to be overhauled,
every ship in distress to be assisted,
if possible, and every boat signal ob
served to be attended to. Start it.
EvEx in a long-settled state like New
Jersey the for'e:t fires last year burned
over 197,000, acres and destroyed
timber valued at f100.000. They also
cooked the fertility out of the soil and
killed many valuable wild creatures.
Yet the average member yawns a
weary yawn when someine member wants
to talk forestry instead of 'politics."
T'I'H:i was a decline of 3,000,000
sheep in the country last year, which a
goes to prove that the American taste a
for mutton must be growing. The g
head of cattle in the same period do- a
creased by 2.250,000, or six per cent it
of the entire number. The decrease "
in the national wealth by the sheep "
was $4,5,0,0010: by the cattle, $32,- C
000,000.
T'r-H i much advertised Kentucky t
gentleman did not quite whip his
weight in wild cats, but he came very t
near it. Now the question is. would
the Kentucky gentleman have been as
successful if, instead of in a cage at i
an opera housu surrounded by a yell- t
ing crowd of men and boys, he had i
met the animals in a lonely path in
the Hocky mountains?
IT is nearly fifty years since the
close of the Mexican war and in the
natural course of events the survivors
should be limited to a few octogenari
ans. As a matter of fact. however,
the number of pensioners on account
of the Mlexican war now on the rolls
exceed tin number of soldiers who
participated in the struggle. There
is clearly something wroeng.
ThEr" is a kind of comfort in the
fact that the grip plays no imore re
spect to princes than to paupers. The
disease has laid hold of the prince of
Wales, and his royal knees ache and
his royal nose sneezes just as though
he were of humble birth. 'There is no
precaution known that will scare ott
this vicious disorder. The man who
lives according to the rules of the san
itarian fares no better than the most
heedless.
THE telephone may work some un
expected changes in court procedure.
A witness has been permitted to
testify by 'phone in a Michigan court.
If evidence may be taken in this man
nor, why should not jury services be
performed by telephone? There
would be a great advantage in it,
since juries would be enabled thus to
escape listening to speeches, and
could reach determination of a cause
mn the evidence alone.
TIIE suggestion that the Turks are
bribing Armenians to testify in favor
of the righteous and humane rule of
Turkey is not worth attentfon. It is
not conceivable that an Armenian
Christian could be base enough to be
influenced by money to testify in
favor of the oppressors. The Armens
tans, hopeless of European interfer
ence, may be intimidated, and iprob
ably will le, but they will not be
bribed by the hope of money.
HAvEN'Tr had the g;rip? Ion'tlbrag;
it is not yet too late in the season for
the all-over, feverish, devilish, every
bone-in-the-body-aching feeling to
strike you, like a shock from an elec
tric light wire. One minute you
feel you have a chronic wellness, i. e.,
the minute just before the Russian
monster grips you. The minute after
you don't care a continental how wide
:r deep they dig your grave or if you
are a cremationist how soon they
light the fire.
JOSEPH COOK is a perennial. His
lectures have been heard, it would
seem. by all of the minority who hke
to hear lectures; yet lie has begun
the twentieth year of his Monday
lectureship with unabated vigor.
Joseph belongs to the immortals.
A FLoouR walker in a big retail
house in Chicago says that more
paper patterns have been sold this
season than any in his recollection.
lie says that this is a sign of economy.
Women are making their own d 'asses
who never did it before.
TAKING OF VAN LEEKR.
'pý
k(
THE STORY AS TOLD BY A DE" I
TECTIVE. le
he
hr
IIIS WONDERWFUL METIIOD OFl IIIl)- th
ING CRIME.D;
bc
itole ~200,000 from the Bank Before d
the Stockholders Became Aware of it
the Truth-Flew with a Variety Per- Jt
li
former-Landed in Mexico.
at:
OM ETIMES IT th
happens that when t'
you get a perfectly to
fair and easy start hi
on a case that "ou leI
will run into condi- ar
tions which seem gC
like a stone warll to
raised against fur- sv
ther investigations,5.
'To go into all office ar
and look at the to
wreckage of a safe ca
on the floor and fo
Listen to, the jabbering of a lot of people
who knows it all,does not do a detective
a bit of good, because he does not see,
find or hear anything that points to co
crooks, and that is all he is after. Burl ct
you can never tell what will turn up. 1
I have gone into cases which I thought le
would take years to clear up, and I i
went to the bottom in a day; and again
I have been put to work upon cases
which it seemed would only take a few i
hours to get to my man, and I have h(
some of these easy things on my list at
yet, which had never been run to earth. I
1What I thought was about the easiest 10
thing I ever struck was the robhbery of hl
the New York banking firm of Loomis e
& Hatch by their cashier, Jackson Van a
Leer. The thief wats ia young fellow
who had always been on the level, so
far as the firm knew, and that he had
robbed them only came out from iis
flight. But the bold Jack Van Leer.
who gives in his right name because
his family deserted him when he got
into trouble, and he thinks it tends to
disgrace them, has been in some of the
slickest bank and store burglaries
which have been turned off in this coun
try. When I was put upon Van Leer,
he was young and innocent, and after
I had a consultation with the firm I as
sured them that he could not get away,
and I would get him in a couple of days
sure. Hie had been robbing the firm
systematically by means of bogus ac
counts and queer bookkeeping for
ab ut four months, and with his last
grand flight of about $150,000 he got
away with somethirg over $200,000. It
knocked the firm silly, for the times
were ticklish then, and their only hope
was that he could be captured before he
could get rid of all the money. There
was an association at that time of
bankers and brokers for mutual pro
tection, and in case of any robberies
each member would put up his share
of the money to be spent in landing the
thief. I jumped in with high hopes, for
rewards went in those days without
question, but I soon found out that the
t innocent Van Leer knew a thing or r
two. He had gone out of sight as com- t
pletely as if he had been lifted up to N
the sky in a cloud, and there was noth
ing left but blank space. I hustled to 1
get some information about his com
panions and habits, and, no matter
0 where I went, I got the same story t
e Jack was a good boy; no one ever knew }
's him to do anything wrong, and every
body was surprised to learn of his t
astray. 1e was a regular attendant
t at chlturch, was home at regular hours,
was occasionally out all night at a ball
or reception, and that was all I could
get. Whilsky is a pretty bad thing, as a
rule, but in this case it did a great deal '
of good for me. I found out that the
most intimate friend of Van Leer, out
side of his club and church friends, was
Charles Lydecker, a genuine sport,with
e a fortune to keep him going. 1 had met
)f Charles several times and tried to get
d some information from him, but he was
h as tight as a clam. I was satisfied that
he had some information which might
be useful, and I cultivated his acquaint
ance. HIe kept a guard on his tongue
[0 all the time. I ran across him one even
ing after he had attended a blowout in
the Merchants' club, and he was quite
mellow. I followed him up town and
was surprised to see him drop into a
1- Broadway concert garden, iear Prince
e. street. The place was crowded, and 1
'went in and took a seat in a secluded
.ACIKSON VAN IEEI.
corner. Charlie set the champagne
corks flying and his partner was Clara
I-Heller, one of the performers. He
stayed until the show was over, and I
picked up one of the dames in the place.
I pretended to be drunk and asked
a lot of foolish questions. This
girl knew Charlie, and after a
bit I began talking in a maudlin
way about Charlie's friend Jack. The
girl told me that Jack had disappeared,
and at the same time Irene Hudson,
the stage partner of Clara Heller, had
flown the coop. It was the common be
lief that they had gone away together,
but no one seemed to know anything
about it. The girl had not heard that
Jack was a thief, and I did not tell her.
I became very friendly with the girl
and learned that Irene had a lover
named Dave Johnson,who was a train
er of prize fighters. She told me that
Irene cared more for Dave than any
one else, and the money she got from
the guys and Jack she turned over to
Dave to blow in over the gaming table.
It had taken me something more than
a month to get this information, and as
I sized up the game, it appeared to me
that Irene would some time or other
commumcl.te with Johnson or send him
money. That sort of a woman never
sticks to a man who treats her well and
pays her bills. So I and my partner
kept watch on D-vc day and night, and
I made connections to find out if any
letters were received in the postolflce
here in his name. I don't remember
how long it was, but it was perhaps
three months when a letter came to
DaveJohnson in a woman's writing. It
bore the post mark of Mexico, and I
saw Dave get the letter. lie fairly
danced with joy, and I surmised what
it contained, besides a money order.
Jack bought a new outfit, and the same
night bought a ticket for New Chlleans.
I went with him, but did not tell him
about it. He kept pretty drunk during
the entire trip, but I thought it better
1to await developments than try to win
his secret. When he reached New Or
leans he went to the Planters' hotel,
and after being there several days he
got a letter which caused him to move
to Prince's Cottage. There he met the
sweet Irene Hudson. 1 had her picture
with me. I took a room in the cottage
and put myself up as a guy with money
to burn, which was just the gait to
catch Irene. She took a fancy to 17.i,
for my money, although she had a big
Ibank roll herself, as I coon learne-d.
'While her lips were loosened, under the
influence of wine, I got. from her an ac
count of her travels with a man she1
called her husband. She :anid she found
out that he was untrue to her, and had
left him in the City of Mexico several
weeks before. I put a watch on Irene
anld her partner and went to Mexico a;
fast as I could. I had Van Leer's pic
ture, but it took me sevcral days to ge..
any trace of him. I had imagined that
he would be in hiding, even in Mexico,
and hunted for him in secluded places.
If I had taken the other course, and
looked for him in public places, I would
have got a line on my man much quick
er. I found that Van Leer, under the
name of Alston, had gone into partner.
V
:,
IRENE IIUI)SON.
ship v, ith one of the most influential
gamblers in the city, and was a higl 3
roller. The chief of police told me that
the gamblers ran the town, and it
would be useless for me to arrest him, I
The gamblers' ring would set lim at
liberty in an hour. By the use of money
among the right people I put uý a job
with the chief to get Van Leer.' Wee
took in a clever woman whom Van Leer
had taken a fancy to and got her to
give him drugs to put him asleep in her
room. Then I removed him to a wagon,
and before his disappearance was no
ticed by his friends I was over a hun
dred miles from the City of Mexico. I
had no trouble then in getting Van
Leer to New Orleans. lie confessed to
everything,and, through his assistance,
1 recovered over $1.00,000 from him and
Irene. He pleaded guilty and was sent
to Sing Sing prison.
T. E. BUTLER.
Troublesome Widows.
Empress Frederick of Germany and
Quen Pia of Portugal, have. since they
became widows, been a source of no
end of turmoil and unpleasantness to
the courts of their respective sons.
Both ladies are renowned for their
cleverness, and pride themselves on
being what the French so graphically
describe as "mraitresses femmes." But
neither one nor the other is renowned
for the possession of much tact, and
the result is that there has ltecn a
good deal of triction and unpleasant
ness between the dowagers and their
successors on the banks of the Spree
and on those of the Tagus. At Berlin,
the Empress Frederick was ill-advised
enough to comment in such a manner
on what she was pleased to consider
the intellectual dulness and density of
her daughter-in-law that it came to
the young emperor's ears and created
some very bad blood.
Walked to Her Death.
Mr's. Eugene Cross of Charlevoix,
Mich.,has accomplished many seem
ingly impossible things while walking
in her sleep, but her habit was her
death. The other morning she arose
from her bed unbeknown to anybody
and left the house. When she was
missed searching parties were sent out
but she was not found until the after
noon, when a boy going to a fish hole
which he had cut in theice found the
woman with her head and shoulders
under water, frozen stiff and two inches
of ice on the fish hole. She was cut out
and the body removed to her home. It
is supposed she stumbled on the loose
ice and fell into the hole.
Together in Death.
Mrs. G. Ward, mother of the Macca
bees, returned from the north of Michi
gan to Muskegon recently, and related
a tragic story of the finding of a pair of
young lovers in a snowdrift, frozen to
death. They were locked in each
other's arms and appeared to be asleep.
A farmer in Benona was awakened
early in the morning by a noise about
the house. He found a horse outside
hitched to part of a cutter. This caused
a search to be made, when the bodies
were f-ound. The man was identified as
a teacher of the Marshallville school,
and te woman, though unknown, was
I supposed to be his sweetheart, who had
come to visit him.
Will Forgive the Worthless Prince.
It is stated on authority of friends of
John W. Mackey that a reconciliation
between the princess and Prince Colon
na is being arranged by Mrs. Mackay,
the princess' mother. In explanation
it is added that the prince's exchequer
needs replenishment, and the princess
will consent to a reunion for the sake ot
her children.
"NUMBER, 28."
"Mis' Helena sent nie fo' ter nx ye'
would yo' come in. 11is' Elvie, 'r sh'l
she fetch 'or wuck out lo's an' set'?"
"By all means out here, tell her,
Aunt 'Raney. please; the air is so deli
cious."
So we cnmped out there that rare
October afternoon, Aunt Helena Mars
Lon and myself, the cana'ry, two low
chairs, the mending basket and a tray
of flaming 'T'okays. We were on the
second gallery back and Ihe sun en
veloped us in a cloud of glory. So
torrid was it that Aunt 'Haney came to
our relief.
"H'yurs yo' sunbunnit. MIs' Helena,
an' a pahlsawl fo' Mis' Elvie. Ml-m! de
sun dat hot lak hit come f'um de lime
kills."
Aunt Helena obediently donned tll:b'
bonnet; she did not dare do otherwise,
but 1 a'ssured olt aunty that her kind
ness towald mle was amisplaced. "'ilhe
sun's rays won't halrnl my complexion,
Aunt 'Raney; a felw more freckles to
a span of ('heck possibly."
"Go on, Mis' Elvie!" shie laughed,
opening the umbrella. ".Ies' a-s'posin
all dem ah freckles wuz ter run toged
dah, den wha'd o' be at?"
So I accepted the ridiculous sun
shade, but about four minutes' retire
ment from the world suficed mre.
The canary shrieked ecstatically,
darti Illrough his limited spalce so
,;wif . that he looked like those rib
lious of t1ame that children make wit 1
lighted sticks. And the 'T'okays-they
tasted like melted sunshine, the blood
of the f."r-olff sunshine, which they hadi
imprisoned in themselves. ''hel city
streets; below us lay like country lanes
that afternoon, so quiet were they. and
we raw almost no one, althlolugh ner
by was a great aparltment house, a
chur(ch with open doors, St. Aubyn's
school and innumerable stairs leading
up and down the rear steps of other
houses and flats. Uncle Marston's fine
old mansion was set in beautiful
grounds. There was a cottage close
by oni the side. gray and while. which
ill the lbright sunlight shone dusty and
cob\n cl'by. It was silent, too. On the
side next to us was a veranda, where
red vines chlung to-day. and a lilac
bush grew under the windows.
"No. 28 doesn't look like a city house,
Aunt Nella." I said. "I could imagine ,
it a country cottage with a. history. Is h
it never occupied?" I asked, dropping a
for the third time the skein I was hold- h
ing for her. Then my aunt, who was ]
a woman of considerable avoirdupois, n
dropped her ball and, stooping to get *I
it, merely, touched it with her finger- ti
tips and sent it rolling down the step;e d
and half way to the stables. After p
returning it to her I sat down at her ,
feet --ith my embronaery. a
"T nk you, my dear," she said, ,
gentl., .
"No, Elvie. 'No. 28' isn't occupied. o
We intend to have it removed. As g
you've been so good." she smiled. "I h
will tell you something." then added a
sadly, as she looked down onto the a
lawn, "I wish things could have turn- 11
ed out differently, Eivie. Over there t,
was another Eden broken up." Aunt I
Helena sighed af if weighted with ac- t
cumulating evidence since Adam and t
Eve. t
"Who were they, Aunt Nella?"
"The Standens, child. 1 was never
so interested in any neighbors as I
was in those. Being city born and 1
bred makes one cold-hearted, I fear, t
but ; found myself time and again f
planning for them, actually watching a
the outcome of their very lives. Ah, i
dear child, there must be a finish some- t
where to the exquisite tapestries of
life so abruptly ended, compensation
somewhere," and she folded and laid I
away another garment. i
"Do you refer to your neighbors at
'No. 28?' "
"I forgot, Elvie Parsons, that I was
speaking Romanisch to you." and sihe
smiled, dropping her hands into her
lap in a self-condemnatory manner.
"Yes, my neighbors for years-the
dearest of neighbors. When we bought
the cottage and let to a police officer,
'one of nature's noblemen,' Sheldon
Standen, came right into our midst.
Tall and manly he had no peer on the I
police force; always in the front ranks,
the star on his breast shone a little bit
higher than any other. He was 'our I
policeman,' our pride, and we came to t
esteem him as a dear friend. He was
a gentle, lovable man, as we camne to i
know him in those years. He and Dr.
Marston were confidential and intl..
mate, almost like brothers."
"Why do people say 'almost' like a
brother? Is there no record of a per
feet confidence ?" I asked, rapidly dem
onstrating such relationship with the
Tokays.
"Why, I don't know, Elvie. Wheth
er one will it or not there's an intangi
ble something that keeps the family
tie sacred; it's a. law unto itself; it
can't be lengthened. broken or mended,
even "for love. 'Almost a brother' is
very strong, Elvena, and that was
what Sheldon Standen was to us. 1 re
member the day he brought his bride
to see the cottage. Can it be only six
years ago'?" my aunt mused and sighed.
"And they lived there all that time?"
I asked.
"More than five years, yes. Emily
was a xare little woman, a painting
teacher from Cedar Hill. Dear, dear!
what wonderful resources and energy
little Emily Barlow had! They re
minded me of two robbins that spring
time. regulating their housekeeping
affairs. Her father came with them,
white-haired and pale; he was lovely
as a picture in his big hat and blne
neglige, as he sat on the sa;nth porch
and read and smoked his pipe all day
long. His wedding gift to them abund
antly furnished their home, and his
presence was a continual benediction
to them. Every moment the otticer
was off duty he seemed to spend in
some home service. I don't know why,
but it used to bring the tears to my
eyes to see that big, splendid man on
his knees, with hammer and tacks, or
a dust brust, as if love was more than
pride, above self-seeking-that's what
it meant. Dr. Marston saw how it was.
and he gave them their own way with
everything, and the j)dicer renewed
the grape trellis and 'nade !flmwr gar
dens, and Emily stained the window
that opened low onto mhe piazza. So
they finished the house, and it was
beautiful, Elvie!"
"Very artistic, no doubt," I ventured.
"Yes, from the gray-green vestibule
to the pink fron-holders abonve the i
iange; antd oh, Elvie! that .ray parlor,
all gray and gold, with just. one single
scarlet-draped chair! The pictures she
painted herself, and they were beauti- I
ful." t
"Aunt Helena. you have such a happy
way of looking at things, it's worth a 1
fortune."
"But it's all true, Elvena Parsons'
just as I tell it to you. Alh, me! I don't
see why it couldn't last-their happi- 1
ness. 1 used to watch Sheldon coming
home at luncheon time, for it isn't fac
to the relieving station, and he some
tines ran, in his boyish light-hearted
ness. 1 can see now the dainty table.
and the exquisite' etiquette that was
their daily custom. And, Emily, little,
delicate woman, how proud she was of
it all. Elvte. how industrious and eco
nomical; how brave, leo, worthy to be
an officer's wife, always alone but for
her father, patiently waiting while lier
'boy' walked his midnight beat all
those long, cold, doubly-dangerous mid
night hours. I loved Emily Standen,
EIlvie, and you know I'm not senti
mental. There's a picture of her as
you go up to the music-room."
"I saw it, Aunt Nella; she looks like
an angel."
"By and by she had an angelic com
pany, and my little lady came to stay,
for she left her' blue and gold carriage
oni the shady porch, and Grandpa Bar
low guarded it faithfully, 1 assure
you." Aunt Helena gave herself so
much time and deliberated so like a
iconnoissceur over the clustered grapes
that I was quite impatient.
"Was it pretty-the baby. 1 mean,"
I a:kel, bound to keep the subject be
fore the house.
"Not pretty; but. Elveni l'arsons, 1
presume to say she was the most
lovely child in the whole world! Brown
eyed, and olive-complexioned, like her
father, and so bright! And how she
grew! so wise. so precocious! She
soon ran over her father's flower-beds,
ate green grapes ant 'sprinkled the
lawn' at all hours." Seeing a smile,
Aunt Helena explained: "Not in one
year, of course, but certainly in
eighteen months. The baby had two
haomes, one at 'No. 2S' and the other
here at 'Aunt Nellna's and Uncle Doe
tor's' as she called us, and we were
proud of Zona's contidence."
"What (lid they call her', Aunt liel
era "
"Arizona. Her grandfather named
her. She was very old-fashioned, deep
and set in her opinions, yet as bright f
and pure as a spring of water. She
had .ieas. even upon abstruse subjects,
and, while the doctor would puzzle
her with questions, she oftener puz
zled him with answers. Elvie, there's
nothing lovelier out of paradise than
a. little child, or deeper, either. Some- I
times 1 think maybe they are sent f
down here to sympathize with us for s
Eden's loss, which they themselves
were never allowed to enter. She was
a dear, dear child. Sheldon Standen- t
why, he fairly worshiped her little
cast-off shoes and treasured them every
one! Father and child, constantly to
gether when he was at home. When i
he lay down to sleep she would awaken
and run to pillow her head on his arm
and fall asleep again, whispering to
herself: 'Papa loves Zona.' It was
t:oo fair a day to last, Elvie. The dear t
Lord had set the little one another
task. It wasn't hard for her, but, oh,
the pain of the lesson to us! She was
taken ill and in one day we read the
'call' in her face and knew that she
was going to leave us. If the mother
and grandfather were inconsolable,
what can I say of her father? Our
brave officer, who would not pale be
fore a hundred flashing guns, sat, weak
and powerless, all night, her little
hand in his. She was drowsy through
the week, but with the Sabbath chimes
she roused up and listened. Lifting
one hand she stroked his head and
looked with a wise, searching gaze
into his face.
"'Pappa Shelly,' she said, studying
his features lovingly, "oo don't look
bright 'is day, don't 'oo fee' well?' She
drew him down to her and kissed him,
moving her fingers caressingly over his
star; it had been the pride of her life.
'D' 'oo s'pose p'licemens up in heav
en wear stars, d' 'oo fink so, Papa
Standen?'
" 'Yes, darling-that is-yes, I think
so,' he replied, trying to speak intelli
gently in his distress.
"'Bright as 'oors, papa, d' 'oo fink?'
"'Brighter than mine, Zona. i-He
felt himself the lowliest of the lowly,
the most unworthy of all the great
chief's men, knowing his own hard
and bitter thoughts to-day.
" 'Ey'll all shine bright, of course,
only 'oor's will be 'e brightest. Papa
Shelly, because 'oo's 'e best officer in
'e seben hunnerd p'cinc's. Uncle Doc
tor said su. an' 'oo's going to be a
'tective or a-or a tc'ief, maybe.' Her
p father smiled at her quaint speech.
"'One star differeth from another
star in glory,' he mused, wiping the
perspiration from his brow.
" 'Why. Papa Standen. why does it?'
"'According to the purity of the
heart-beat, darling. Oh, Zona, little
Zona! You don't, you--ny heart isn't
right to-day, but God knows-' and
he placed her hand over his eyes, 'I
have tried to be a faithful servant!'
and the tears fell, hot, agonizing. re
bellious. She removed her hand after
a while and said sadly:
" 'Don't cry. papa, dearest, say: 'It's
all right for Zona,' as 'oo used to do
when I fe' down an' 'oo helped me up.
Say it. papa, say: "It's all right for
Zona-"' How could he? He was
dumb and blind and wretched. But
I the little one did not urge him further.
'isn't 'oo on 'zerve duty now, Papa
Shelly, how do 'oo happen to stay after
dinner? Did 'e lieuten'n say 'oo
could ?'
" 'Yes. my darling, because you were
sick - because you wanted me - be
cause---'
"'But I'm not sick. papa officer.' she
smiled up at him. 'I had a pain, but
mamma and Uncle Doctor cured it
yesterday night, and now it's all well.
No. I'm not sick, and I'm not going to
die, pala. dearest, don't be 'fraid. but
I must tell 'oo somefin, lemme whister
it in 'oor ear. I'm going away. apper
file.' He groaned and held her close.
She was calm and quiet, so he let her
talk.
S'Poor papa'll be all 'lonely,' she
omused. 'No. 'oo'1l have my sweet
Em'ly mamma, an' grandpapa, an'
Uncle Doctor, and Aunt Nellna, I
didn't fink 'bout 'e uvvers,' she apolo
gized.
Her' father hid his face in his hands
and sobbed. He could not speak;
though every word cut through his
heart, he would not lost a single wrd.
Thoughtfully she waited for him.
" 'Look up, papa," she said gently,
'lemme finis'. You know' Zona's going
fa-a-ar away. an' 'oo haven't said it's
all right for Zona! Say it, papa, dear
est.' But he could not, not yet, not
that.
"'Where's my precious going?' he
moaned.
"'Way 'cross 'e hills an' 'e big
b'idges, not on e railroad cars, papa,
maybe an 'e 'teamboat, 'cross 'e lovely
river, an when e water gets too cold,
an' way up to 'e froat, 'en a nangel
comes an' teaches how to f'y wiz 'e
wings. Everybody has wings, Papa
Shelly, but they don't know the way
to f'y. God gives 'em wings when
they's babies, but if they don't use 'em,
they all fordets bymeby. Ain't 'at so,
Papa Shelly?'
"'Oh, my darling baby, the angels
have told you!'
"'Les, I'm going wa-a-ay off. They,
want me to go .'is velly night. Now,
say it, papa, dearest, say it's all right
for Zona!' " He leaned on the bed
rail and shook with weeping.
"'I cannot!' he cried in agony. 'Oh,
God in heaven! I cannot say it! I can
not say it!' The baby looked up at
him in surprise, and a little grieved.
" 'Dear Papa Shelly, 1 fought we'd
have a nice little talk, but 'oo're not
like my own papa officer to-day. Let's
wait till to-mollow--maybe I .can wait
till to-mollow,' she added doubtfully.
" 'Oh, Zona, darling child, why do
you wan.t to go?' he asked, almost
fiercely.
"'There, papa. don't fee' bad any
more, an' I'll tell 'oo 'bout it. I want
to go. I have somefing to do some
fcre, someling no uvver baby can do.
I want to go home.'
" ''This is home, Zona.'
" 'Yes, it's home here wiz 'oo, sweet
pupa, but up there it's more home.
W'y, I've been up there before, an' I'm
homesick to see my Jesus an' hear
Him talk to me, an' I'll be so glad
to hear all the little angels say:
"Here's Zona Standen come home
again!" But 'oo've not said it, Papa
Shelly, say: "It's all right for Zona!"
Say it now, papa dearest, so I can
hear 'oo, but I'll hide my eyes from
you.'
"This delicate impulse touched his
soul to the very quick. He fell upon
his knees and the blood forsook his
heart. He almost felt that he was
dying.
will say it! I do say it! It is all right
for Zona!' He lay as one dead, yet
with a conqueror's smile on his lips.
With a loving touch upon his cheek
the little one said:
" 'Papa, I knew 'oo would say it for
my Jesus. Now 'oor star will be al
ways, always bright. Don't ever lose
it, Papa Shelly, don't lose it, 'oor booti
ful, bootiful star!' And the little white
soul sped away."
Aunt Helena and I wiped away our
tears and sat silent. The canary had
sung over and over his one minor
strain, and then rolled himself into a
golden ball. The tall buildings seemed
blurred, for the sunshine had crept
around the house unnoticed.
"There is more, Aunt Nella," I half
whispered.
"Yes, Elvie, in one year, to a day,
the dear old grandfather went out to
find Zona. And in half a year more
our great, strong, handsome officer
followed him."
"Aunt Helena!"
"Yes, like a tower swallowed up in
the mist. His light went out at noon.
'It is just 12 o'clock,' said Dr. Mars
ton. The dying man heard him.
"'Yes, Em'ly, darling, I expect to be
up to luncheon. Put Zona in her high
chair close beside me.' He mused a
moment. 'No, not here. Well, it's all
right for Zona.' The old, satisfied joy
came back into his face, Elvie, and I
do believe it was forever and ever!"
The canary awoke again, when the
last rays of sunshine flamed on St.
Aubyn's windows like a wall of fire.
Bump! bump! bump! down a dozen
stairs rolled a rollicking Tokay.
"Mis' Helena, Doctah Mawston say
you alls's ter come in de house, 'less
yo's gwine kotch yo def o' col!" called
Aunt Raney from the lower balcony.
Why Some Women Do Not Marry.
One such woman was used to attack
a new science or language every year,
and, failing, from her lack of teacher
or companion, would pile the text
books in heaps untl waills of dusty
volumes shut in every room of the
house. She !'ell at once 'ato :a state
of semi-idiocy, and wandered like a
ghost around the village, jabbering
scraps of foreign tongues which she
did not understand.
It is a hereditary habit in certain
families for the women who have a
grief to shut themselves into a single
room, and remain there for ten, twen
ty, thirty years. Nor are the morbid
fancies of these women always gloomy
and sad. They live sometimes in an
enchanted land of their own.
One whom 1 know, a woman of
senuous temperamlent and motherly in
stincts, refused to marry a man whom
she loved because he had gone to live
inn another town, and she would be
forced to leave the old house and half
acre which were the center of the
world to her. The courtship went on
for forty yeiars, but she was true to
the house!
Another drove her lover away on the
day of the wedding because she could
not bring herself to change the name
I of Wonson for any other. He was
rich and she was poor; he remained
faithful and ieady as long as she lived.
She died at seventy, a maiden Wonson
still. Could pride of blood go further?
---lebecca Harding Davis in the Cen
tury.
The Crimson Cliffs.
One of the most conspicuous land
marks, or, rather. snowmarks in the
whole of the Arctic regions is the red
snowbanks discovered near Cape York
Greenland, by Captain John Ross in
the year 1818. For miles and miles
the hills are covered with snow that
is as red as though it had been satur
ated with blood. Lieutenant Greely,
who visited that region while on his'
famous Arctic expedition,. miscroscopi
cally examined these blood-stained
cliffs and reports the color due to a
minute organism which he calla pro.
tococcus aivalis.