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The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, January 16, 1902, Image 7

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THE WISE MAN WHO FELL.
There was a man people said
Was wonderfully wise;
He knew the names of all the stars
That twinkle In the skies.
The telescope and spectroscope
He wisely used to give
Men knowledge of the smallness>of
The sphere on which we live.
He know the number of the tons
That distant Neptune weighs.
He knew exactly to the dot
The length of Saturn's days.
This wise man madep map of Mars
And marked the .-.as up there;
He wrote on Martian density
And eke cn M utlan air.
But when the wise man crossed the street
Two fools shot gut -one day;
The wise roan stayed to see. In.stead
Of h rryil g away.
The i -hot all their weapons off,
And when they shot no tnor
Men : hi red up his corpse that they
Han (,i i med so wise before.
—S. E. G -er, In Chicago ltecord-1 lerald.
TONGUE
OF FLAME
By ELIZABETH CHERRY WALTZ.
(Copyrighted by Daily Story Pub. Cos.)
AFT EU suppt r was over, .young 1
Gideon Sennett changed liis rough
clothing for a little better suit, then
set to walk uj> the road towards the
Alstettcr homestead.
He had worked hard in the hayfleld
all day. Liis back achi and. his arms were
sore, but this was Wednesday night.
On the white wooden steps of the
church a mile away. Flavilla Lingrel
would wait for him. They could sit
there quietly until he was rested.
Flavilla was there. He saw her from
afar, her pink calico gown making a
bright spot against the whiteness of
the steps. It was just after sunset
when he started, there were rosy
clouds still in the west. F'avilla was
not a pretty girl, but nhe had a smile
that meant volumes. It was worth a
very long walk to see.
These two dev ited young people
were shy and awkward in the expres
sion of deep feeling between them.
Their very loneliness while boj and
girl at school had drawn them to each
other. He was an orphan, and her
father had long since married a wom
an who resented her existence. Nei
ther Gideon or Flavilla had any but a
grudged life up to the time each was
able to w ork. Then came days of toil
with little to enliven them or breed
aspiration.
Stranger things have happened than
tpat both should be absurdly ambi
tions. In Gideon's family, two genera
tions back, there had been a preacher.
He was a devout man, well educated for
his time and not without power in ora
tory. His son. Gideon’s father, had
been not only stupid, but a ne’er-do
well. In his grandson. Gideon, revived
the devotion, the ambition, the gift of
speech, the sturdy industry.
Flavilla wanted a home different
from what her hoqie had been. She
dreamed of peaceful days, if thrifty
management, of love, of being kind to
those about her. She entered enthusi
astically into Gideon’s ideas, she stim
ulated him from his boyhood to daring
dreams of success.
For seven years they worked, toiled,
dreamed. To-n’ght. as they sat on the
steps of the church where the grand
father had lifted up his voice, they
seemed little nearer to the fulfillment
of their hopes than before. Physically
weary. Gideon's spirits wavered.
Flavilla was a year the older. That
'counts a good dial til 10 and 20. lie
sides. in her burned a more enthusi
astic and steady fire.
“I don’t "see how it can be done this
fall. Flavie. T’v cot the money for
the College course, but how am 1 going
to live?”
“’Twouldn’t take much to keen ns ”
“Us! Oh, Flavie!"
“You’re never going without me,
Gideon. I’ve got some money, you
know.”
“It might be. When haying’s over.
I’ll go up and see.”
Tnis is the reason why a vetirgof
die faculty of a ci Haiti college and
theological seminary was-, mob minted
one da\ by a stalwart country ’ad. Tie
game asking impetuously f 1 ntrance
Into college, with little ninn y and no
church influence to back Ivm.
Then Gideon talked. The spirit < f
his grandfather seemed in him. Tie
told r . his dreams for years, his toil
snd Flavilla’s interest and encourage
ment. How well he expressed himself
k 4f that time he never knew, but as flic
old president walked from recitation
hall to the library afterwards with the
arofessor of Greek, he said, gently:
“It is a long lime since I felt that a
iad had such a clear call. T had been
wondering if there was to be no more
inspiration.”
They promised Gideon shelter in a
part of a house mf the campus. He
went back to Flavilla triumphant. Now
was Gideon the very sword of the Lord.
Tn the quiet country neighborhood
his return, the projected wedding,
such prospects for a lad of no property
rinsed the wildest excitement. Fla
villa, from scarce more than a drudge,
at once became the most envied girl in
the township. Her “setting-out” was
discussed far and near. She hatf many
presents from women who thought
that by helping her they gave directly
to the Lord. Meetings were held to
help her sew, and it was from these
grew that idea that afterwards caused
such a sensation at the college.
The neighborhood religion had been
for years a dead letter. The small
country church with its pulpit reached
by a winding stair, its benches black
with age. had not been opened for
many years. Now a sentiment grew to
open it one Sunday during the summer,
and Gideon was asked to conduct a
service by a committee of grave men.
“I am but entering college,” he
crier 1 , this la:! who had plowed from
sunrise. “I know nothing yet of what
1 expect to learn. Men. it will he sev
en years before I am fit to teach the
Word of the Lord."
“The Lord will tcl.l you what tosay,"
said a very old man. w ho remembered
hi* grandfather, “and we have no oth
er to speak to ns. Gideon."
He promised to give them an answer
on the morrow and went to see Flavilla.
There was no happier woman than she
those days. She was sitting at he?-sew
ing w hen Gideon came in. humming a
qutrnt country ditty. He thought her
a changed woman. Surely, she had
never seemed so handsome in tht olden
days of toil and anxiety. He told her
what the people asked, it* full mean
ing dawned upon her.
“You mi st do this thing, Gideon,”
she said, after a silence. “I: will help
both yon and the people.”
“But a sermon?”
Flavilla struggled with the thmurbt.
To her mind a rm n meant deep
knowledge, research, filling, convic
tion. Had nr* '■hi talked these things
over with Gideon since they were boy
and, girl together? The very fact of
long, continued thought upon these
subjects served well now.
“There will be nothing expected of
yon that yon are not ready for," she
told him, after a time, “and since
yon cannot talk of great things,
would it not be as well to speak of
those at hand?” Don't preach. You
ain’t fit. “You’re just a common
man now. Talk man to man."
“And, Gideon, dear," she went on,
“don't forget to talk a little to us
women. We need lots o’ God. It's
a God for every day we want.”
He only said, after a silence: “Fla
villa. I guess I’ll go on home.”
She understood him. They walked
down to the gate together. There
was a dark evergreen tree there and
he kissed her solemnly.
“Flavilla, yon must wear your bride
dress. And sit all alone on the front
bench.”
He still had his misgivings as to
the propriety of bis proceeding. The
next morning lie wrote a misspelled
letter to the college president, ask
ing him for advice. Sunday came
and no reply had reached him.
The Interest in the meeting was
widespread. It was Sunday* in a late
August and the little church was
filled, the overflow standing about
the doors and windows. Flavilla had
chosen some of her old schoolmates
to practice hymns with her. Their
musical knowledge was limited, but
it would help. They sat on the sec
ond bench in their clean summer ar
ray. On the first bench, alone, sat
Flavilla. She wore the white dress
she was to be married in, and a sim
ple hat. When the house was full,
Gideon walked in. He wore his new
black suit, but looked like a true son
of toil, :i lad from the very midst of
the people. Flavilla started a hymn,
all sang who could, then Gideon read,
not any too well, a portion of the
Scriptures. Afterwards he stepped
down from the pulpit and stood al
most among them.
Gideon will never preach such a
sermon again. He has gone from
"THE LORD WAS WITH YOU."
field and wood and pasture to more
conventional paths. Never again will
he walk between an actual living,
human Christ and an actual, breath
ing community as on that day if his
boyhood. He talked. God-life in
common life in common ways, was
made real. In the morning, at noon,
in the tired hours of the evening,
at toil, in dealing, in birth, life and
death Christ-life was depicted. Then
Gideon spoke a few sentences of his
own future hopes and asked all to
keep him in prayerful remembrance.
The silent and stolid people were
more moved than they eared to show.
Old men wrung his hand. \v. him
looked at him with misty eyes. Flu
villa’s tears ran down her chec': s m
she bravely started the last hymn.
But, while the people reluctantly
filed out, there strode into the church
n man of presence, of speech. He
put Ids arms about Gideon's shon -
ders, and looked at him with proud
eyes.
“The Lord was with yon,” said th“
college president. The Strange let-
C r had brought him hither.
Gideon is now a great preacher.
Lis own and Flnvilla’s dreams were
nothing in comparison to the reality.
They still tell at the college of his
hard study, Flavilla’s aid and com
radeship and of the wagon load if
provisions that came to them every
few months from their old neighbor
hood. They still fell of Gideon's gift
of speech, his honors, what a cr '(lit
he is to the college. If yon ask the
secret of his mission, lie looks at
Flavilla and says:
“I try to tell of an every-day God
and as man to man.”
Henry Sparks
Buys a Horse
IT WAS evening, an hour aiier din
ner, w hen Henry Sparks, surround
ed by his family, sat at the cleared
dining-room table reviewing books.
Henry is the literary editor of the
Daily llreeze. Henry wasn’t feeling
well that eiening, a fact that boded ill
for the young woman who hud-writ
ten the new novel, "The Gory I’ath
to Fame,” which Mr. Sparks just then
had under consideration. The young
est Sparks kid tipped over the ink bot
tle. Henry swore. The imprecation,
rather a mild one. was intended to be
under his breath, but it was heard
and the eldest daughter left the room
looking grievtd, while Airs. Sparks
looked rather more than shocked.
“Henry,” she said, “you need exer
cise. You are irritable and not alto
gether proper. Since you’ve been lit
erary editor you've stuck so close to
the office and house that your temper
has suffered and we have suffered w ith
if. When you were night police re
porter you were ever so much nicer,
because you had plenty of outdoor ex
ercise, even if you did keep late hours
and come home smelling of station
houses, smoke and occasionally whis
ky. Here we are living in a sub
urb, and if you’d only buy a
horse the children and 1 could drive
and you could ride for an hour or two
every day, and I know we'd all be
happier for it.”
“Eliza.” said Mr. Sparks, “I know I'm
a grouch, and I need exercise, lint if
you think because I wrote such a
learned review of “The Horse Breed
ers’ Companion" the other day that 1
know anything about bnrses. you are
woefully mistaken. 1 don’t. However.
I suppose I can learn to ride, and if you
can find a good, gentle horse fairlN
cheap I'll buy it.”
Two days later Eliza Sparks flour
ished in her husband's* face a circular
which she had picked up in a street
oar. This is the way it read;
“For sale —Fine family horse, good
driver and saddler, out of Flora Tem
ple nineteenth, by Pride of the West:
has no public record, Tim can trot a
mile in 5:20 without pushing; war
ranted sound; has only one fault; is
ifraid of elevated trains, and gentle
man owner w ishes to sell her into sub
urbs, where she will have kind treat
ment; worth $1,300; may be had In
proper party for $l5O. Inquire of
■oaehman, private stable rear of rest-
Ten Ce. 100,000 Kenmore avenue.”
“There. Henry,” said Mrs. Sparks.
■‘lt's just what we want. Here’s a kind
heauted gentleman who wishes to
dace Ids family horse at a great sacri
fice where it wil! be well treated.
There are no elevated trains about
here, and so w i net dn’t worry about
that. A $1,300 Iti rsc for $l50 —why, we
ietmllymake m re than $l,OOO by buy
ing the animal. L* g > around quick.
lam afraid sot -el ody i 1 will be there
ahead of us.”
Henry Spark- put on his hat and
coat with alacrity. Wh v rea died
Q? {'. ■ /
Jfel I'f J
v. >• .7 \\
m 1
li
rf)
THE COACHMAN.
the place on Kenmore avenue it did
strike lit ury that the place savored
rather more of a cheap sales barn than
it did'of a gentleman’s private stable,
hut he dismissed the thought as un
worthy. The coachman was an oily in
dividual. Hi led forth the mare, which
was a well-groomed locking animal,
plump, and with a shiry coat and a
fairly good mane.
“Ain’t, she a beauty, sir?" said the
coachman. Henry Sparks put on a w isi
look and stroked the animal’s neck at
arm’s length. He would have looked
at the tail if he had not a wholesome
respect for the roar part of a horse.
In tin meantime Mrs. Sparks, who had
been tit the animal’s h ad, said: “O,
Henry; do buy her. She has perfectly
beautiful blue eyes.”
Just at this juncture a strange r en
tered the stable. He was a large man
with a big, yellow watch chain. “I
want to buy that mare you adver
tised." he said to the coachman.
"I’m sorry, sir,” was the reply, “but
this ’ere gentleman,” pointing his
thumb at Mr. Sparks, “has the first
call.”
“Ain’t she a beauty?” said the stran
ger. "1 want her bad; I know her pedi
gree. I’ll give you $175 for her if you’ll
let me have her,”
“1 can’t do it,” said the coachman.
“It wouldn’t, he fair to this gent, and,
beside*, he lives in a suburb and the
boss wants the horse to go there.”
“Henry,” whispered Mrs. Sparks,
“buy quick or the coachman will sell
him to this man.”
Vciß ;•>
“J’ll take him for $150," said .\u.
Sparks.
■•Done,” said the coachman.
Then Henry Sparks paid $75 for a
buggy “which will be of no use now
that the mare's gone, and so we’ll let
it go at a bargain.”
TheSparksesdrovefor a week. Their
purchase never showed any symptoms
of speed, and, in fact, was something
more than a laggard on the road. It
was fed oats and oats and oats, but it
grew alarmingly thin and patches be
gan to show in its hide. One day it
began to limp painfully. It was that
lay that Henry and his wife had re
solved to drive two miles to call on a
0
v>
l L,
c r -■
•■I’LIj CIV K. VOLT $175 FOK 11 MR."
friend. They forgot that the way led
under a branch of the Northwestern
Klevated mad. They were w ithin half
a block ol the structure when a faint
scream came from Mrs. Sparks.
“Henry, the only thing this animal is
afraid of is the elevated. If a train
comes along we’ll be dashed to death.”
Henry grew visibly white, but he set
his teeth and said: "1 guess we can
get under before anything comes.”
Then he laid on the whip, which made
the horse increase its pace at the rate
of at least one mile in 124 hours. They
had reached a point directly under the
center of the structure when two
trains going in opposite directions
thundered overhead. The noise made
was a terrifying, hollow roar. Mrs.
Sparks threw her arms,about Henry’s
neck. As for (he horse, it didn’t s,
much ns prick up its ears, It floun
dered on with painfully link eg feet,
ns though such a thing ns an elevated
railroad had never entered into its sum
of life.
Henry Sparks released his wife’s
arms. He gave her one look, turned
the horse and buggy sharp around an*
drove as -fust as the reluctant animal
would admit straight to a livery stable,
where tl Spar! had keen cue
turned to hire outfits In ft re they had
started a stable rf H eir own.
“Johnsi r.“ aid Mr. Sparks to the
liven keep, r. “look at t Id ■ licrse and
tell me w hat it’s w or. h.”
Mr. Johnsi ; lord: ■ and : ! e a rhea! over
carefully. Then he t i•• and to Mr.
Sparks and • ’d; “ify o’ 1 take ; out
on t he Areliey r. ' > \ 1 hi ”mit s,
wire re 1 1 I ■ es to make
sausage. I ti i ik you can get four dol
lars for this in a re.”
Henri Sparks looked pained. Thee
he pulled out the cireula. which had
led him to purchase the animal. Mr,
Johnson read it and grinned. “Old
story.” lie said, “older than this horsi .
and that’s say ing' much. They groomed
it and doctored it and made $14(1 out
if the beast.”
Henry Sparks took bis wife lionn
and then went straight to the Lake
View police station. He swore the otli
’rr in charge tifcseereey. The officei
made the affirmation with a decided
grin, and with many a mental reserva
tion. He read the circular. “Yon
can’t do anything, Mr. Sparks,” he
said. “1 guess the law won’t touch
'em.”
When Henry left the station he
thought he heard someone laugh -
in fact, he thought he heard several
laughs for Henry was 1 own in the
Hation as a former police reporter.
Three days later Henry Sparks was
walking through Washing-ton street
carrying some book revii us to the of
fice of the Freeze. He saw coming to
ward him Sam Lever, with whom he
had been a companion night police re
porter for two years. When he got
abreast of Sam the latte who had
been looking straight ahead, stopped
suddenly and said; "Whv. il can'’ In
possible that this is my old friend
Henry Sparks? Why. how Yo’t’ve
changed!”
Sam had seen Henry every other day
for five years, but he kepi his gravity.
“I understand. Henry, that you're
contemplating leaving the newspaper
business to become a horse trader.”
Then as Henry clutched Sam's arm
mil led him toward the side entrance
of a refreshment shop Sam chuckled
and said: “Say, old man. to think that
yon did North side police nights for
two years anil (hen went and got stuck
! an a game that's been played since the
time of Jehu. Henry, it’s no wonder
that you've degenerated from a live
night police reporter into a common
literary editor. Edward B. Clark, in
Chicago Uecord-llerald.
Didn’t Want to Donut,
“Bridget, were you entertaining
company in tjie kitchen last night?”
“Well, mum, that’s fer thim i’ say.
'll was aft her doin’ me hist.”—l’hilu*
delphia Bulletin. . ,
Anoint the nails at the root every
night with vaseline or dip them in
warm sweet oil. This will cause
Uo grow better and they wi , not split.
A few important additions to
the Program of our
Clearance sa!e.
Since the commencement of this sale
some items ha’*e been added, which we
quote here, and which we believe will be
of special interest to you on account of
their quality, seasonableness and low
price. The reductions made on all win
ter goods are considerable, in fact as
great as you might expect them many
weeks hence. This sale was an assured
success from the start for the manner
in which you greeted it and the general
response that followed our last week's
announcement is a fitting recognition of
the values that crown it.
IKE PEOPLES SAVINGS BANK.
R. G. OLP, Prop.
Hanitowoc, $$ Wisconsin.
ooooooaoooooo-ooooooaoooooo
won fßoivi
§ the FLifIMES :
0 $
BY T. S. BREEH
5 C
00000<h5000000000000000000^
(Copyright, 1901, bv Author* Syndicate.)

(treat forest fires had been numer
ous that spring in the mountainous j
districts of northern Arizona. There ;
had been two dry years in succession,
leaving the country a veritable tinder j
box. Added to this were tin heavy
and persistent spring winds that would
f.au a small spark into a raging hell in
a few hours.
The government officers and lit
riders were kept on a constant mo e
to save the country from conflagra
tion. The country was sparsely set
tled. Here and there, miles apart,
w here a small seep or spring furnished
them water, a settler would some; inn s
be found, deep in the woods. A ronnli
er and more rocky country never lay
outdoors. Canyons split it op in all di
rections; mesas were covered with
pine timber and on the rocky, seamy
sidi s of the hills were I hick cedars and
chaparral, making a tangled Jungle
that even the old pioneers would oc
casionally get lost in.
It was late in the spring when the
biggest fire of a decade broke out, and
at a time when the wind was blowing
a terrific gale. It marked as high as
fit) miles tin hour, falling at sunset,
seemingly to rest for (lie coming day
when it would break out again with
renewed force.
\ small camp fin l left unattended
started the sea of flame on its journey
of destruction. A heavy wind was be
hind it. driving it due north toward
the highest peaks of the mountains.
The government rider in charge of
the district fought it for two days
with what help he could get from tin
ranchers, but on the third day it broke
away from him. He rode to the nearest
telegraph station and wind his su
perior officer for help. Help which
was 20 mill s away, and soon a force of
20 men was on its way as fast ns
horses could run. The driver rolled
and swayed in his seat, bracing now
and then against his seat-mate as
the four-horse team swung around the
sharp curves and over the rough road.
Smoke covered tin* whole country
for miles around; valleys were filled
with it, and great black clouds hung
over and hid the mountain peaks, A
far its the rye could reach there was
a leaping, twisting, - roaring sea of
flame. As the night wore on, the
smoke settled more closely to the
ground and shut out the moonlight,
adding more to the awful beauty of
the wild seem; giant trees blazing
from root to the topmost branches
gave out their spectral, shimmering
light, which seemed to gain in size un
til they appeared many times their ne
tual size and height.
Above the din and roar cam. the
occasional boom of a distant tree as it
crashed down into the canyon below
upon the rocks; up steep mountain
sides the flames rolled and crackled,
darting here and there, licking up ev
erything in its reach: the wind whirled
it here and there; boiling smoke rolled
close to the ground, covering the men
and choking them until they were
nearly strangled; now and then they
would come stumbling out of tin black
smoke and stagger away to get their
breath. Then after a few gasps irf
fresh air got by lying close to the
ground, back they would go again,
black and begrimed; beating the fire
but here, chopping and cutting away
logs, fighting like fiends to stop the
spread.
Along toward morning, Charlie Lew.
is, one of the regular range riders of
the district, came up to the officer in
charge of the reserve, with an anxious
look on hi begrimed and sweaty face.
“Captain,” if I ain’t mistaken, there's
- <-anch over there In that draw about
a mile to the left. 1 hadn't thought
uf it before, but old man Williams
lives tin re. He moved back thereabout
a month ago with his daughter. 1
think something mighter be done to
see if he ain't got out of there before
tlie tire runs onto him."
“Good God, man, no one could get
through this living 1 ell for a mile
and come out alive. 1 nless." lie add
ed. half ( o himself, "unless there
happened to be a break in the tire
line somewhere that split it around
tt canyon.”
“Well, I'll tell yon. cap, if you'll
jest let me try I may be able to do
something fer 'em. I ain't worth a
dam, nohow, and it won’t hurt much
if I don't make it. I know most of
the country' like a faro layout, so
does my Itrofte. If I don't gel
through, cap why, it'll he the right
kind of a start fer me in the next
world, ennyhow,” he said, with a lit
tle deprecating laugh.
The cap, ns he called him. grasped
him by the band, mumbled something
under his breath that sounded like
“il and fool," wiped something out of
his eyes, and said:
"Well, go ahead if you are bound
to."
In a short time Charlie had se
cured his little sure-footed beast,
and snaking bis clothes with what |
water could be spared from the I
drinking water in the canteens he
w as ready for the journey. As he I
spurred his horse down into the (ire, I
tile men gave him a cheer. He waved!
his big hat at them and was gone
amidst the smoke and falling logs, I
Trees and undergrowth were not
thick and there were patches left;
here anil there unimrned owing to |
the hdges of rock and huge piles of |
bow lib rs.
He dug his spurs into the litth |
heath and down they went, info gul* i
lies, up over steep rock , with Churlii i
laying close to his horse’s neck
running. stiimblifT, all but falling nil
♦ Hues in the treacherous lights and
shadow s of the blazing wood. Once j
a great pint came crashing down a
few feet in front of his horse and
both were covered with burning
sparks. With a scream of pain the
little horse gathered himself up
and passed in safety. By strange
good luck, or by instinct of the horse,
he struck a trail that led him into a
road to the old man’s cabin in the
draw. Here he dug his spurs vicious
ly into the horse’s sides and forced
him to the top of his speed. Straight
to tin* cabin be went, where lie half
fell from his horse, burst in the door,'
yelling as he did so to arouse the !
sleeping occupants.
Williams and his daughter had
gone to bed, thinking themselves safe;
from the lire owing to the wind driv
ing it to the north and east away \
from their home. Half asleep Wil
liams aroused his daughter, and while
she hastily dressed he broke into the I
corral and secured horses. It was!
but the work of a moment before,
they were on the return frit), Charlie
leading the horse with the girl, fol
lowed by the old man. Itiivvn the
road they went as fast as the horses
would carry them through the smoke.
Charlie had thoughtfully wrapped
the girl in a blanket before the start.
The flames swept so close to the
ground that, it was impossible to fol
low the road. Williams was lost from
the two ahead a short time after
leaving the cabin. Lewis turned and
yelled, but his voice was drowned in
the roar. To hesitate meant death.
The horse behind stumbled and fell.
In a moment Lewis was down beside
the girl and raised her in u half un
conscious condition onto the saddle
with him and continued, his heroic
ride.
Almost hopelessly he spurred his
staggering horse on; it seemed hours
to him. Then wrapping the blanket
tightly around the girl, for one more
desperate effort, he jabbed the cruel
spurs into both sides of ins lagging
bronco and plunged up a steep hill
PROGRAM
Clearance Sale
Began January 13th and
Continues to January 25th.
German knitting yarn all colors ||
per skein If L
Men's ami ladies' all wool hosiery, f o
35c kind at lOC
One lot of He toweling, at j 1
jier yard 4 , C
One lot of $1 and 1.35 woolen / n ,
overshirts at OVC
One lot of mule skin mitts |f*
fully lined at 1 7C
One lot of 10c and I3c flannels. *• ,
at per yard 1 C
side and through the roaring flames.
He was nearly swept from his horse
by burning - brands and partially
lilinded as they struck him across the
face. Vs he reached the brow of the
hill his horse stumbled and fell. In
a second he was on bis feet, and with
the girl in his arms started again foi
the outer edge of the fire.
At last hope gone, Winded, weal
from his gallant fight, scarred in a
hundred places. hi> face and hand
burned almost to a crisp, he fell ex
hausted with his burden. He had
reached the limit of human endur
ance. He had hardly fallen when he
heard a familiar voice near at hand
yelling to his men:
“Cut away that log, men! Heave
it into the canyon below.”
“Help, cap; help, quick,” he man
aged to scream, and in less time than
the telling takes Lewis and the girl
were whisked from the sea of flame
with willing hands, in a short tinn
the girl recovered sufficient to tsL
the story of the wild ride, hut Lewis
remained unconscious for days.
A search was instituted for the
missing Williams as soon as it wa
possible to do so, but it was week'
afterward that his charred remains
were found beside the bones of hi'
faithful horse. lie had wandered
around in the fire until both were
suffocated.
Kxeept for the effects of the smoke
Mabel W illiams suffered no ill effect
from the ride. ( harlh-’s forethought
in wrapping her in the blanket ha - .,
saved her from burns.
The man seemed remarkably wel
content with his nurse during th;
time his burns were healing. Omi
day he said to her:
“1 think I'd on: lit to have to pay
for i hat hot-si add! . Mabel
mighty good to rse and double duel
saddle, too."
“I don’t think you should have
more than you cm carry, Charlie—
on a warm day, a: yhow."
'Ouch, May, that’s my sore arm
that 1 got foolin' round in the fire;
.''oil’ll have to hug me on the othe
side."
And pay for that horse and saddle
is a standing joke between them yet
A DISAPPOINTED MAN.
Ilie l*riM,mer llo|ietl for 11 Reprieve
to Ilie l.iiol Moment noil \\ tint
lie Iteeelveil.
"The most disappointed man I evei
saw,” said William ,1. Casey, a Haiti
more tinaneier, to a correspondent o
the Chicago Inter Ocean, "was a poo;
wretch who was about to be hanpei
in one of the northeastern countie
of Mary an . I happened to be then
about the time and accepted an invita
tion to w it m ss the i xeeution.
“The fellow's lawyers had bee:
working hard to -ave his neck, an
there -eimeil to b,- some possibiiit,-
that lo might be reprieved. The tim
-et for th• execution arrived, h>w
ever, ana the slu-iitf made plans t<
carry out the execution, the m-arc.
to the 'catfold had begun and th
prisoner was about to mount the step
when a me-'cnger arrived, bange
frantically at the gate of the jail ynre
and was admitted, waving a telegrai
in his hand.
“ 1 he procession was at oucestoppe
and the sht rilf took the telegram, bv
saw that it was addressed to the cor
detuned man He handed it to th
fellow, who. treinb.u g with hope, tor
open the envelope. He east his eagi
glance at the message, paled, and It
it drop from hi> hand. The sheril
picked up the paper, read it, and th
march to the scaffold was resumec.
In a few minutes the man who ha
hoped for a reprieve was in eternity.
“The message was from some m-ir
1 ister who had become interested i
1 his case. It told him to trust in th
Lord and he would lie saved!"
I.oss of X essets.
Nearly 1,000 vessels are iost annual!'

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