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r I Mary Ann's || I Valentine $ I I By May C. R inf wait. | jL. v*-i Bob stood first on one foot, then on the other, peering into the shop win dow with its marvelous display of •very kind of valentine. His eyes twinkled with glee as he gazed upon a thrilling line of "comics." "Gee whiz!" excitedly murmured Bob. thrusting his hands into his trou sers' pockets. Then his eyes lifted to higher things and his heart-strings tightened with positive awe. In the center of the window, suspended by a gilt cord, swung a creation of pink celluloid, paper lace, blue forget-me nots and green sparrows. If only he could buy it for Mary Ann! His breath came and went in little gasps. On a scroll miraculously issuing from the mouth of one of the green spar rows were two lines of gilt lettering: "As sure as the vine grows round the stump, You are tny own dear sugar lump." He gave an ecstatic whistle. Even the hard heart of Mary Ann—who scornfuly winked the tip of her nose at his most adoring glances—could not possibly withstand poetry like that! He entered the shop. He came out with a crestfallen air and drooping spirits. The pink cel luloid valentine was 50 cents, and poor Bob had only a nickel! He glared in at the window and then turned an grily away, walking slowly up the street, his dirty little forehead puck ered in thought. Had be only remembered in time that this was Valentine day he might have saved up enough pennies for even so dazzling an extravagance as the celluloid dream of beauty. But liow could he instantaneously earn so vast a sum? The holidays with their snapshot opportunities to run errands were passed, and now instead of there being a lucky blizzard with a jolly lot of sidewalks to sweep this four teenth of February, the air was as balmy as May—as if spring had sent a breath of her flowers to old winter for a valentine. Bob glanced at a clock. It was too early to go for his evening papers. He turned up the alley leading to the "Grotto." For the first time in the last proud three months he was al most sorry that the gang had taken him in. Of course, after sleeping on shed roofs and burrowing under wharfs, a fellow lived like a swell in a fine cellar, but when he had paid Freckles—the gang's ten-year-old busi ness manager—for his bunk, and con tributed his share of the daily grub, his "regular income" was always ex hausted. If only there could be some sensation in that afternoon's edition, Mary Ann might still—Bob's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a cat's plaintive cry. "Hello there!" exclaimed Boh. "Where in the world did you come from?" He stooped and stealthily stroked the rough fur of a forlorn kitten who had appeared as mysteri ously as though a trapdoor had sud denly opened in the ground for her special accommodation. "You are a beaut!" laughed Bob. "Just ought to see your ribs! Looks as if you'd been living on washboards all winter. What are you following me for? Take me for the avenue swell whose father keeps a dairy?" "Meow! Meow!" The half-starved kitten timidly rubbed against Bob's foot, ber frightened eyes looking up pleadingly into the boy's face. "I ain't got anything for you— ehoo!" In terror, the cat scampered behind an ash barrel—the tip of an ear, one big yellow eye, a cobwebby whisker alone visible. "Say, I didn't mean to scare you that way," apologized Bob. contritely kneeling by the barrel. "Come here, Kitty. Kitty." "You see, Kit," explained Bob. gen tly stroking the thin little head, "I like cats—honest. But it would be worth all nine of your lives to follow me into the Grotto. It ain't that the fellows haven't kind hearts. It's just because they can't understand that they've got feelings inside like other folks, you know. Besides, Theodora Fitzsimmons would make mince pie of you in short order! You're terrible hungry, ain't you?" "Meow! Meow!" "Sorry, old girl, but I ain't a mil lionaire that can afford to dine stray alley cats at restaurants. Clean bust ed, except—." Bob's face flushed a sudden red. Ho had remembered the nickel in his pocket He scrambled up, and scowled down at the kitten. "There's no use of you looking at me! A fellow can do what he pleases with his own money, and you needn't suppose for one instant I'm going to give up Mary Ann's val entine to feed an old alley cat!" Emphatically jerking his head, Boh turned his back upon the two plead ing. hungry eyes riveted upon him, and took to his heels. But a glance over his^shoulder was his undoing, for the cal, toppled over from weakness, giving a cry that cut deep into Bob's tender heart. The brave little pussy was soon ou her feet again, the plaintive "meow" with a note of triumph when she found her new friend coming toward her. Bob stood looking down at her, the hand thrust into his trousers' pocket, turning the nickel over and over, while visions of the flve-eent valentines so recently scorned flashed through his mind in pictures of irresistible beauty. "What's the use of feeding you up Just once when you'll go right off and get hungry again!" he grumbled. "Meow! Me-o-w!" "It's very uncomfortable being hol low all the way down to your toes, I know," sighed Bob, "but—" The drooping corners of his mouth sud denly straightened Into a smile reach ing almost from ear to ear. "Got an Idea!" he exultantly cried, waving his cap in the air. "I'll divy. Kit. I'll divy! Spend part of the nickel on you; part on Mary Ann—hurrah!" A moment later Bob breathlessly entered a corner grocery. "Give me two cents' worth of milk," be demanded in his most impressive trying to run after him, manner, as he wriggled on to a stool and spun his nickel on the counter. - "Where's your pail, sonny?" Bob regarded the clerk in open mouthed consternation. In his flash of inspiration this small detail had escaped him. What could he do' Freckles and Theodore were both in the Grotto, so that he could not go there now, and there was no time to be loèt, for in half an hour he would have to start downtown after his pa pers. "Perhaps," said the clerk, chuckling over his own wit, "you'd like me to pour the milk straight Into your pockets?" "Couldn't—couldn't you loan ma something?" stammered the embar rassed Bob. "I'd bring it back in ten minutes—honest." A peal of laughter filled the little shop. "You don't catch old dogs with puppy tricks! I've loaned things to kids before. No, sir. you won't get a drop of milk from this establishment until you run home and fetch your pail." Bob slowly descended from his stool. "Then it's off," he sighed. "I can't—" "Say," Interrupted the clerk, actu ated partly by his business keenness for trade, partly by the disappointed expression on the youngster's face, "I've got one of the finest tin pans you ever see. Your ma can have it for milk, fry her meat In it, and use it for a wash-basin between times. It's worth every bit of ten cents, but folks have their notions about a pan being smooth and sleek, and because of this here little bump in its back that don't amount to a hill of beans. I'll let you have it long with the milk for your nickel. Is it a go, kid?" Bob hesitated. A vision of Mary Ann in all the beauty of her red pig tails tied with pink tape and her dear freckled face, with its laughing brown eyes and scornful little nose, seemed to shine before him in a sort of golden haze. Then suddenly a plaintive cry rang in his ears and he forgot Mary Anti; forgot his own prosperous con dition as member of the gang living like a swell in a fine cellar; remem bered only a starved little alley cat and a starved street urchin who, none too long ago, so often went without food for days. Bob wriggled on to the stool again. "It's a go!" he announced, emphat ically. Bob stood grinning down at the hap py alley cat lapping the last drop of milk. "Been having the time of your life, Kit?" he asked, with a chuckle. Before the kitten could answer a shrill : "Hello, Bob!" floated over his shoulder. He turned with, a start, and gazed at Mary Ann. "Where did you get the milk?" she asked. "Grocery," concisely replied the boy. "Buy it with your own money?" Boh nodded. "I like—cats," murmured Mary Ann, for some strange reason bashfully hanging her head. The Crimson leaped from Bob's chin to his dirty little forehead. "Then per haps—perhaps," he excitedly faltered, "you'll let me give you the kitten for —for—a valentine?" "You mean it—honest?" For his answer Bob gently lifted up the little alley cat and lovingly placed it in Mary Ann's eager, outstretched arms. "Wait a minute—that ain't all," said Bob. his voice quivering with pride "I'm a-going to give you the pan, tot Mary Ann."—Philadelphia Press. ora 'V 6 |V A "\ / 's CO ow fcyo'riT V» horrid nwty "thing' fikid once 1 thought them o -S nice — B hoped ft'd £'oî ^ Ç9ôt(erilTne -Jpncf instep a two A TALE OF TWO VALENTINES He bought a dainty valentine, A thing of beauty rare, All gilt and lace, for her he loved, A maid divinely fi.ir. He also got a penny one, A sheet In colors crude, Red, yellow, purple, blue and green, With verses very rude. The day was drawing to Us close, The fading light was dim. He sent the missive off to mail In haste—alas! for him. The maiden got the comic card, (In his own hand '(was written). The rival got the salin square, And he—he got the mitten. —Minna Jrving, In Criterion. Day Losing Its Meaning. The festival of St. Valentine ha. ceased to possess the graceful sym bolic meaning It once had, and manj do not notice it at all. There was t time when the day was one of tht most important in the year, a dRj looked forward to with joyful anticipa tion, for it was dedicated to love, and poets were inspired by the muse and artists were Ailed with the divint afflatus as they sang and painted, foi "love is to man what the sun is ti the world." The Faith That Conquered »TORY OF THE CRISIS IN MOSES' LIFE Bjr tin " Hifhw.r and Byway" Plancher Fut III. —At JmeR'i T*ak.— Fwla 111: 7. (Coy* right, MM, by J. M. I&Ikw.) Scripture Authority.—"By faith Mosel, when he had come to years, refused to be called th« son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riche» than the treasures of Egypt; for he had respect unto the rec ompense of the reward."— Heb. 11:24-1». HE sun was just rising, awakening fair Egypt to a new day, when two figures are seen to leave the portico of the mansion and go slowly down the flower-girt path towards the gate way overlooking the river. One is that of an old man, and as he moves along feebly he leans heavily upon the young man at his side. His bent fig ure and withered, wrinkled face betok en great age, but his sunken eyes have a sparse that reflects the light of the brain still active within. And his voice, too, although thin and trembly with the years, is still vibrant with cheery hope. "Ah, Is not the earth beautiful this morning?" he piped, drawing in long breaths the fragrance of the flowers that were sparkling with a new-born beauty in the morning sun. "And to think that by night we shall be in Goshen. Ah, God is good and merci ful. I had abandoned all hope of re turn when you found me." And the memory of those dark, de spairing days quite overcome the old man, but he quickly recovered him self, and ran on in rambling sort of way, while the young man listened with almost reverential attention. "And you say the burdens of my people have been lightened. May God richly reward the princess for her goodness. They have not been disap pointed in her, for I remember the hopes that stirred the hearts of the people when she took thee to the palace. They hoped to find in her a friend, and you tell me they have. And now to think, Joachim—I cannot get used to calling thee Moses, for in Goshen thou wert known by the name thy parents gave thee on the day of thy circumcision, and only a day or two after thou wert taken to the pal ace I was carried far to the south into Ethopla, and never heard the name the princess gave thee—to think that now thou art interested in thy poor people. Surely God's ways are won derful." They had come now to the gate and the porter promptly swung wide its massive portals and they descended the broad steps to the boat landing. The rowers were in their places, for the orders had been given the night before for the early start, and soon the strange pair, Moses the prince and the decrepit old Hebrew slave, were gliding over the sunlit, sparkling waters. Had Moses not been so engrossed with the thoughts of the portentous trip to the tomb of Joseph, he might have given one parting glance back ward, and had he done so he would have caught a glimpse of a female figure standing half concealed behind one of the pillars of the gateway. With hand upraised to shade her eyes from the dazzle of the sun, she stood motionless, watching the boat until it had disappeared far down the river as it made its way swiftly towards Goshen. And when she could see it no longer she turned, and with a moan of anguish she retraced her steps to the house. "Oh, if he would only listen to rea son and take my advice! I fear the influence over him of that mummy of a Hebrew he has dug up in Ethopia. Oh, that I had insisted on going with them! A misstep now may cost him all that ETpt can give and forever end his chances of helping his peo ple." In this distress of mind and appre hension it is not to be wondered that the Princess Mother found the days a burden and the nights a sleepless hor ror. On the third day after the de parture of Moses she could stand it no longer, and in desperation she re solved that she, too, would go to Goshen. She must be with Moses to help and advise him. The stranger should not usurp her place, and any records left by Joseph should not lead him astray and rob him of his right ful place in Egypt as her son. Thus impelled, she soon had made her prep arations and was on her way. And during these days of anguish endured by the one be had left behind, Moses had been busy. On the even ing of the day on which they had started their boat reached the point where they were to take a conveyance drawn by horses into the heart of Goshen. Passing the night on the sumptuous barge, they again made an early start, and by noon had gained the locality of Joseph's tomb. It was pathetic to see the eager ex citement of the old man as they neared the tomb. "Yes, yes," Joyfully cried the shrill voice of the old man, "this is the place. Ab, how many times my aged father, Ephraim, took me down in secrecy to this spot in the dead of night, and, pointing into the cavern's depths, sol emnly and carefully rehearsed to me the secrets that tomb held. And his last words, as with his dying breath he blessed me, were: 'Remember a nation yet to be Is dependent upon thy faithfulness.' And now, thank God, He has raised up thee and prepared thee to receive the message." And the old man placed his hand assuringly upon Moses' arm, and with bared, Who can know the feelings of these two as they set about the task of bringing from their hiding place the records long ago prepared by Joseph and buried with him as he bad direct ed? They felt they were treading on holy ground and were in very truth in the presence of God. for waa not y h God's voice going to speak out of th* records of what so long before be had revealed? bowed heads they both reverently en tered the cavern. ''We shall know the place where the body was laid by the 13 stones used to seal the mouth of the recess." said Ammihud, groping about almost help less In the semi-darkness. "Canst thou see?" he cried, anxiously. "Each stone bore a name of one of the 11 sons of Jacob and the two sons of-Joseph," he went on to explain. Motes was swiftly but carefully past ing about the side« of the cavern, straining his eyes In effort to see and passing his hands over the walls that he might detect by that means what perhaps his Imperfect vision in the dim light would fall to uncover. He had traversed quite half of the cir cumference of the place when he ran upon a sharp angle which took him into a recess. So completely hidden was the nook that he would have missed It entirely had hts hands not been following the contour of the walls. Scarcely had he turned the corner and begun the scrutiny of the wall with eye and hand when his Angers slipped into the chiseled groove of some deep cut letter. He scarcely breathed in his excitement as he feverishly traced the characters. " 'Levi,' " he read. His heart gave a great leap of joy. ''My father's tribe," he thought. With a cry of ex ultation. he bounded hack toward» Ammihud, shouting: ''I have found the place! I have found the place! Sit thou here Am mihud," he continued, leading the old man to a bench of stone conven iently near. "I will soon have the stones removed and then shalt thou search for the hidden recess in the coffin where it was told thee the rec ords were placed." "Yea, by my father's own hand," ho responded, positively. Moses was by this time at work, and although it was no easy task, he final ly succeeded and took the last stone out just as the descending sun burst around a giant rock at the entrance, and sent its shaft of light streaming Into the cave, suddenly transforming the darkness and gloom into light and glory. Both men stood mute and reverent before the manifestation. To them it seemed suggestive, nay al most prophetic. They had been grop ing in the darkness, now ail was light They were in the darkness of ignor ance as to God's plans for His peo ple—was the light of God's truth to stream forth from that tomb and il luminate their understanding? "Come, Ammihud," Moses said, lift ing the old man to his feet and walk ing with him down the pathway of light towards the recess, "God is smil ing in upon us, and we shall soon be possessed of the sacred records. He will guide thy hands in the search." And while Moses' strong arms up held him, the old man reached within the vault and soon had drawn from a hidden pocket in the coffin the sought for records. "Thank God!" they both fervidly ex claimed. And Moses added: "Surely, He hath not left His people without the needed revelation." The next day, in a room of one of the homes in Goshen which had given them shelter, Moses was seated, pour ing over the papyrus sheets spread be fore him. Reclining upon a couch at his elbow was Ammihud. The excite ment of the search having passed and the mission which had nerved him and kept him alive for years having been fulfilled, the reaction had come, and he lay there helpless and weak, but eagerly listening as from time to time Moses read him the important pas sages from the precious records they had recovered. "Read me that again," he whispered. "How sweet in the darkness of our bondage it Is to hear that God will visit us." And Moses turned back the roll of manuscript and read the words of Jo seph. "God will surely visit you, and bring you out of this land unto th» land which He sware to Abraham, to Isaac and Jacob. And Joseph took an oath of the children of Israel, saying, God will surely visit you and ye shall carry up my bones from hence." Moses' voice died away, and he went on studying other manuscripts In si lence, while the old man mumbled softly over and over again to himself the words: "God will surely visit you and bring you out of this land unto the land which He sware to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob." So completely did the thought ab sorb him that he did not notice, as Moses went on to read another portion of the record giving God's message to Abraham at the time of his vision: "Know of a surety," Moses read, "that thy seed »hall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them; and they shall afflict them 400 years; and also that nation, whom they serve, will I judge; and after ward shall they come out with great substance." With a cry Moses let the roll fail from hia hand. A mist came before his eyes and he felt his heart sink within him, for as he road the words the thought of the Princess Mother and her plans for him came crowding in upon him. Not for an instant did his noble purpose to walk with God waver; not a shadow of doubt crossed his mind as to the certainty of the fulfillment of God's words which he had just read; but oh! the agony of the realization of the separation which was so surely coming. Suddenly he became conscious of ■ tug at his robe, and looking down he saw Ammihud feebly trying to gain his attention, A smile was on his face and his lips were still moving. H« stooped low and caught th* words: "God will surely visit you, and bring you out of this land unto the land which He sware to Abraham, to Isaao and to Jacob." And then summoning all his strength be raised himself upon his elbow and seizing Moses' hand In hU, whispered with intens« yearning: "And you will lead them?" His eyes closed, his head fell forward upon his chest, and as Moses laid him back upon hia couch, he realized that the spirit of Ammihud had fled. Bow ing hia head he repeated, reverently: "Surely God hath visited us. and th» spirit of our brother goeth on before I us into Canaan." ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Here was a noble product of the sot!. Grown starkly on the prairies of the west; Inured to poverty; Inured to toll; The chivalry of Bayard In his breast; A soul serene that ever onward pressed. Beyond the darts of calumny and hate; That stood In every crisis fierce the test, TUI earth had linked his memory with her great. As statesman, president, and master of his fate. He pierced the aeons with a prophet's eys, Humanity was what he spelt in creed, He passed the letter of the statute by. To give the spirit of It utmost heed. Hts life was open, both In word and deed, Prom prejudice and passion wholly free; Of liberty he sowed a pregnant set-d. For millions and for millions yet to be. Himself the bondman's knight of Nature's sold degree. A tribune of the people, so he sprang And seised the reins of power and high place, While through the world his challenge grandly rang, And shook Oppression's temple to its base. His was the mettle of heroic race, On whom the seal of sterling merit sat; The sunken cheeks, the shrewd and home ly face, That shallow wits had launched their ar rows at— llall-splltter, orator, and greatest demo crat. Along the wide horizon of the years, A deep, sonorous echo of his name Kolls, thunder-Uke; and future History hears An answering echo from the halls of fame We see the tall, the gaunt, ungainly frame; We mark the will to dare, the mind to plan; We find the pure resolve, the lofty aim; And while his rugged virtues thus we scan, We stand uncovered, while we cry: "This was a man!" And upward to the portals of the stars, And past the confines of the Seven Seas, Beyond the smoky banners of our wars. Borne outward on the pinions of the breeze— His fame is sung In divers master keys. And shrined In bronze, or heralded in rhyme; Past mountain tops, and past the Plei ades, Far-sont, far-sounding, stHl, wllh notes I sublime, Loud-bugled by the mighty trumpet-tone of Time. —Ernest MeGaffey, In St, Paul Globe POCKET HIS CASH DRAWER. Abraham Lincoln Carried Postal Funds with Him When Postmaster of Salem, 111. Senator Cullora, of Illinois, who was an Intimate friend of Abraham Lin coln, tells the following story of the early times in Illinois when Lincoln was the postmaster of the town of Salem: "The cash drawer of the post office there," said Senator Cullom, "was Lin coln's vest pocket, but it was a cash i * *. 7 Um If \- y VC-l ABRAHAM LINCOLN, (From a Photograph Taken In 1860.) drawer that was sacred to him. I re member on one occasion when a post office inspector came around and made a careful survey of everything in the post office. He took account of stock and figured out just how much Lin coln ought to have in cash belonging to the government. Some of Lincoln's friends were afraid that he might be a little short and went to him with offers of money if he needed it. He replied that he guessed he had it all. When the inspector figured out the amount that should be there he went to Lincoln and told him how much cash there should be in the post office. " 'Well, I guess I have it,' said Lin coln, as he drew forth a bundle of money. "He counted it out and it tallied to a cent to the amount the inspector had found due the government. Lin coln had kept the government's money separate at all times. Although he carried it around with him, as the best method of caring for it, he had never allowed it to become mixed up with his own money. That incident was characteristic of Lincoln, scrupulously honest." He was WHERE LINCOLN MARRIED. Old House at Springfield Has Been Remodeled Into a Beautiful Modern Home. The old Edwards home in South Second street, Springfield, 111., where Abraham Lincoln and Mary Todd were married, which was later converted Into St. Agatha's school under the direction of the Episcopal church, has been made Into one of the most beauti ful homes in Springfield. The old residence has witnessed some very interesting events during its life. The old house as it was had nooks and corners, Its old-fash many ioned stateliness added to the charm of romance and many were the stories told by schoolgirls of how Lincoln married in this room and dined was in another. The front parlor, where Lincoln was married, has been changed, in that one large massive window replaces the former low French windows, of which there were two. A new front door has been put in, which Is a pity, as the old one of heavy oak seemed a part of the house and had swung open to admit some of the most illustrious men and women of the state and coun try. The big entrance hall and stair remains the same as when Mary way Todd came down the oaken steps to her wedding. FEBRUARY The »hortest month of all the year, Yet ere its sands are run. MV spell two names the world holds dear: Lincoln and Washington. Sherlock Holmes. Paterfamilias—Do you think daugh ter got a love letter? Materfamilias—No; it only had a two-cent stamp on it—Judge. A LINCOLN ANCEDOTE. Little Girl Refused to Xiaa Him «* Gratify Her Heart'» Fond est Wish. The heroine of the following anec dote about Lincoln Is now an old lady, but she declares that when she re calls the way In which she met the advances of the man who afterward became ber hero it still brings the blush of shame to her cheek. "When I was about six years old," she narrates, "Lincoln for a short time served in the 'general store' of the little western town near which was my father's farm. In the window of this shop along with shoes, cali coes, sun bonnets, toys, candy-rail the heterogeneous stock of a country store —was displayed a bead pincushion, which It was the amblUon of my life to own. "Who has not at some time longed for the unattainable—the thing just out of reach—which, for that very rea son, perhaps, seems to him the most desirable object the world holds? That bead pincushion was to me what Great Britain was to Napoleon, but, to my despair, the little ticket pinned to its center read '27 cents'—Just 20 cents In excess of my entire bank ac count ! "Week after week, when I went with my mother to the store to exchange butter and eggs for sugar and other commodities which the farm did not yield, the coveted prize lay tantaliz lngly before my eyes. As time went on the brilliancy of the red rose which adorned Its center began to fade; fly specks here and there sullying the purity of the lilies, but never for a moment did my affections waver. Through whatever vicissitudes it might, pass, they still clung round the wreck of that cushion. "Lincoln's fellow-clerk, a fresh-com* plexioned young fellow, who with his red cheeks and oiled locks seemed to me a perfect Adonis, and who, if the truth were known, shared my heart with the bead pincushinon, always met me with the stock pleasantry: 'Got a kiss for me to-day, little girl?' Whereupon I would be seized with a paroxysm of shyness and take refug» behind my mother's skirts. "One evening, after the red-cheeked youth had proffered his request in vaia for about the hundredth time, a tail* ungainly young man came forward, and as lie handed my mother her mail said: " 'Perhaps, little girl, you will kls» me.' "I shook my head most emphat ically. " 'Come now, if you'll let me hav» a kiss I'll give you anything there is in the store,' lie bribed, and, stooping from his great height, he lifted me to the counter, where my fuce was on a level with his. "Anything in the store! I glanced at the desire of my heart and my reso lution weakened. " 'Would—would you give me that bead pincushion?' I whispered. "He smiled and nodded assent. "I looked at my suitor—oh, but he was ugly—and grand (but I didn't know that then). No, I shook my head, the price was too high. Then, as I glanced at my blooming Adonis, who stood beside him, It occurred to me that I might strike a bargain more to my taste. " 'Well,' I drew a long breath and took my courage In both hands. 'If you'll give that cushion, I'll—I'll kiss the pretty one for it!'"— N. Y. Times. MADE BY LINCOLN WHEN A YOUNG MAN. Wm Ox->uke In the Possession of the Univer sity of Illinois. ANIMALS KILL THEMSELVES Old Age Has Led Many a Dog to Scuffle Off This Mortal Coil. '"Do animals commit suicide?' is a question one sometimes hears, and, personally, I never hesitate to answer it in the affirmative," asserts a fa mous naturalist. "Old age has led many a dog to voluntarily shuffle off this mortal coil. One such Instance was observed In Scotland, when an old collie was seen to leave Its home, walk a couple of miles to the shore, and deliberately leap Into the sea. "To escape the tortures of appar ently incurable suffering, animals will sometimes fly to Ills they know not of rather than bear those they know too well. Many an Injured dog has ended its sufferings by drownjng. "An animal at bay or In despair will sometimes commit suicide rather than allow Itself to fall Into an enemy's hands. Sir Samuel Baker saw a buck elk deliberately leap over a precipice In Ceylon, as If of two sorts of death it chose what, to It, was the less ob noxious. "Finally, self-sacrifice has led some animals to kill themselves in certain circumstances In which, In their eyes, deeth must, have seemed more desir able than life. It is a proved fact that the stork has been known to perish in a conflagration rather than desert her young, even thoug.i she knew that she could have done them no good by immolating herself." Our English Estates, Tho American, as his automobil» sped through the lovely English coun try, said, with a proud abd sweeping gesture: • •'We Yankees have a right to be proud of these old estates of ours over here " "Estates of yours?" said the haugh ty Briton. "Estates of yours?" "Well, what would become of them," sai l the American, "If it wasn't for our girls' money?''—Louisville Courier Journal. PEACE IN SANTO DOMINGO NORMAL CONDITIONS IN THH REPUBLIC RESTORED. Report It revived From Col. Colton, the American Comptroller of the Dominican Cnatom*. Washington, Feb. 3.—The following cablegram was received at the insular bureau, Friday, from Col. Colton, tha comptroller of Dominican custom»: "Generals Candelario De La Roza, Barahona and Mota, the last revolu tionists to hold out. have surrendered, and are granted amnesty. "Peace and normal business condi tions throughout the republic are en tirely restored. "Customs receipts in January, dup ing which the late hostilities took place, surpass those of any previous month." Col. Colton's report for the eight month ending November 30 last, shows the customs collections, minus expenses of collection, amounted to 11,442,849. The Dominican government waa paid 45 per cent, less expenses, amounting to $580,795, for its maintenance, and $702,141 was deposited in New York as part of the fund to be eventually dis tributed among the foreign creditors of Santo Domingo if the pending treaty la ratified. THE FAILURE IS A BAD ONE Creditors of the Tranen» Shoe Co. of St. I. nui« Will Only Knalls« About Forty Per cent. St. Louis, Feb. 3.—Creditors of tha Tennent Shoe Co. received Fri day the report of the subcommittee, of which A. L. Abbott is chairman, show ing that the liabilities of the firm ex ceed the assets by $374,000, and that creditors will not receive more than 40 cents on the dollar. The company was Indebted to a Philadelphia bank In the sum of $41, 000. This claim, it is said, is unse cured. The company was capitalized at a total of $800,000, divided into $300,000 of preferred and $500,000 of common stock. It appears from tha report of the ac countants that less than one-fourth of common stock was fully paid. John H. Tennent, who retired from the firm recently, at the instance of the directors, received dividends amounting to $35,000 a year for the past six years. In addition he drew a salary of $6,000 annually. A promissory note, signed by John H. Tennent for $15,* 000, was found among the assets. The overdrafts of "Jack" Tennent, has son, who was secretary of the com pany, are reported to be slightly in excess of $15,000. PARTING OF CASTELLANES A Report From Parla Announces the Nr para lion ol the Well Known Couple. New York, Feb. 3.—In a private dis patch received In this city from Paris, Friday night, It was announced that the Count and Countess Boni de Castel lanc, who was Miss Anna Gould, are living apart. This information was corroborated in cable advices to La Prensa, of Buenos Ayres, to the effect that the count and countess have parted and that a legal separation will follow. They have three sons—George, Boni and Jay. It Is said that the countess left the Castellano mansion precipitately last week after a scene with Count Boni, when she Indignantly accused him, and for live days hpr whereabous was un known to her husband or any member of hts family. During the last foui days the countess has been at the Hotel Bristol, in the Place Vendôme. The count has not been at home since the countess left, and he Is supposed to have been living at his ciub. PREPARTION FOR SPRING Indication» Of an Early Opening of MpriitKr Trade In Nearly All Staple Une*. New York, Feb. 3.—Bradstreet'a weekly review says; There is more snap to spring trad« this week, jobbers and manufacturers, particularly at the west and south, not ing more inquiry for dry goods, cloth ing, shoes and similar lines. Favored by the steady weather, these trades dis play a desire lo open the season earlier than usual. The absence of severe and sudden weather changes has also been beneficial so far to the winter wheal crop, which does not show any effects of lack of snow covering throughout most of the winter. Shipments on spring account are being called for earlier. Retail trade and to a certain extent collections are also affected by the same weather conditions; but th« forced sales are moving goods and there is even a tendency on the part of th* retailers to become reconciled to the situation and not to let the undeniably disappointing winter trade interfer* with spring demands. Outdoor industry is favored by the openness of th« weather. W Postmaster Forty Year«. Laeross, Wi n, Feb. 3.—Thomas Win* chell, postmaster at La Crescent, Minn., for 40 consecutive years, 1859 to 1899, Is dead at the age of 82 years. He held office the longest of any postmaster in the United States when consecutive years are considered. Death of Peter HcArdle. Kansas City, Mo., Feb. 3.—Peter Me Ardle, of Dover, N. H., a civil engineer and general railroad contractor, know» all over the United States, died her« Friday night of pneumonia, aged 41 years. Twin* Six Time*, Triplet* One»*. Canton, 111., Feb. 3.—Mrs. Charles Joy gave birth to twins. Mrs. Joy and husband have been parents to 15 chil dren—twins six times and triplets one* Only four of the 15 are living. Th« woman Is tinder 35 years of age. Xegrm Given Ten Years. Lewisville, Ark-, Feb. 3.—Mary Will iams, a negress, was convicted of be ing an accessory in the murder of City Marshal Charles Few at Stamps oo January 10, and was sentenced to tea years In the penitentiary.