The Mount Holly news. [volume], January 17, 1893, Image 1

About The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942

Image provided by: Rutgers University Libraries

                
VOL. XIV. NO 3
MOUNT HOLLY. BURLINGTON COUNTY, N. J., TUESDAY, JANUARY IT, 1893.
ESTABLISHED 1879
PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD.
The standard rail way of America. Protect
ed Dy the Inter-looking switch and block sig
nal system.
2Yaf*« leone from Mount Holly at fallout:
for Philadelphia, 8.30, 6.00, 6.52,7.30, 8.0(1, 6.57,
9.15, 11.20 A. M., 12.M, 2.31,4.24, 6.06,6.19,8.37,
10.507. M.
On Sundays, 8.86 x. M.. 12.08. 6.20, 7.50 P. K.
For Pemberton. 7.33, 9.26 a.m., 12.44, 2.03, 8.32,
*ja 6.06, 7.03, 7.33 p. m. SundayB, 10.23 a. m.,
6.Mf. m
For Brown’s-Mtlls-tn-the-Ptncs, 7.33,9.26 a. m„
12.24,8.32, 4.52, and 7.06 7. M. Sundays, ia28 a.
For’vinco'ntown, 9.26,11.28 a. m. 3.82,6.06 7. M.
ForBurllngton,Bordentown,TrentonandNow
York, 6.38, 9.00, 10.50 A. M., 2.50, 4.38, 5.55 7. M.
For Lewlstown, Columbus,Klnkora, etc., a.
a. 4.03 p. m. On Sundays, 6.05 r. M
For Lumberton, Medford, Marlton, Hadlon
fleld and Philadelphia, 6.82,9.48 a. K., 1.45,
5.10p.m. On Sundays, 7.82 a. m.
For Toms Klver, Island Heights, eto., 9.26, a
m„ 4.52 p.m. _
For Trenton and New York, via Pemberton
and Klnkora, 2.03, r. m. Sundays, 8.05 p.m.
For Hlghtstow n, 7.33 a. m., 2.03, 4.32 p. m. On
Sundays 6.06 p. m. „
For Asbnry Park and Long Branch 9.26 a. m.
For Tuckerton, 9. 96 a. m., 4.54 p. M.
For Beach Haven on Tuesdays,Thursda.vsand
Saturdays, 9.2« a. m., and dally at 4.52 r. M.
For Barnegat City, Tuesdays, Thursdays and
Saturdays, 9.26 a. m. Saturdays only, 4.52 a.m.
Tratntleave for Mount holly at fo'lowt:
From Philadelphia, 6.30, 7.40, 8.30, 10.00, 11.20
A. Ml, 1.00 , 2.30, 4.00, 4.30. 5.10, 6.10, 6.80, 8.00,
10.30. 11.45 p. M. Cm Sundays, 9.16 A. M., 1.00,
5.00, 10.30 P. M. „ „ „ ,
From New York, via Trenton and Burlington
8.00. 9.30 a. m., 1.00.4.00,6.00 P. M.
From Tienton, 7.41, 9.25,11.10 A. M., 2.53,6.20,
7.00 P. M. On Snnday at 6.40 A. M.
From Burlington, 8.40,10.06,11.53 A. M., 3.32,5.46
From Browu’s-Mllls-in-the-Plnes, 8.40, 12.15 a.
m. 1.55, 5.45,8.05 p. M. Sundays, 6.00 P. M.
From Pemberton, (north) 6.35, 7.42, 8.34.
A. M., 14.19, 4.07, 6.11, 8.17 P. M. On Sundays,
8.00 A. M. From Pemberton (south), 8.36 a.
M., 12.30, 2.11, 4.80, 6.00, 8.19 7. M. On Sun
days, 5.13 7. M. . „
From Vlncentown, 6.50, 10.56 A.M., 1.56, 4.00
From 'Hlghtstown, via B urllngton ,11.02 a.m.
7.04 p. M.
From Medford, 3.33. 11.56 a. m.. 4.16, 6.35 P.M.
On Sundays, 6.82 7. M.
From long Branch, 2.30 7. M.
From Toms Klver, 7.48 a.m., 4.12 7. M.
From island Heights, 7.35 a. m.. 4.00 p. M.
Csas. E. Pooh,
General Manager.
J. B. Wood,
Gen. Pass. Agent.
Pemberton and HlKhtalown Railroad.
Trains leave Mount Holly for New Egypt
Cream Ridge, Hightstown, etc., at 7.33 a. m.
1.03, 4.52 r. m. Sundays, 6.06 p. m.
Trains leave Philadelphia and connect for
New Egypt, Cream Ridge, Hightstown, etc.,
6.80 a. m., 1.00 and 4.00 p. m. Sundays, 5.00 p. m.
Trains leave Higbtstown lor New Egypt,
Pemberton, Mount Holly and Philadelphia
at 7.06, 10.00 a. if., 7.06 p. m. Sundays, 6.20
A. V
TDCHERTON RAILROAD.
Leave Mount Holly tor Tuokerton, 9.26 a.
m., 4 62 p. m., daily, except Sunday.
lfor Beach Haven, 9.26 a. m„ Tuesdays, Thurs
days and Saturdays, 4.52 p. m. dally, except
Sunday.
Leave Beach Haven forTuckerton, 6.50 a. m.,
daily except Sundays, 3.00 p. m., Tuesdays,
Thursdays and Saturdays, and 7.10 P« <>n
Saturdays only.
Leave Tuckerton for Beach Haven, 4.55 a. m
on Mondays only. 10.20 a. m., Tuesdays1
Thursdays and Saturdays, 3.56 p. m. dully
except Sunday.
Leave Beach Haven for Mount Holly, 6.60 a.
xu.( dally except Sunday. 3.00 p. in. Tues
days, Thursdays and Saturdays.
Leave Tuckerton lor Mount Holly, 7.03 a. m.,
8.15 p. m., daily except Sunday.
ace.
Mount Holly Poet Of
MAILS LiSAVB AS FOLLOWS.*
A. M.
New York and East.
Pemberton and Hijrhtatowu.
Vlacentown.
Trenton.
Borden town.
Foreign.
West.
Atlantic City.
Medford.
Philadelphia .
BariMgton..
Camden.
Lnmberton.
7.10
7.10
7.10
7.10
7.10
7.10
5.30
8.30
8.3U
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
2.05
2.05
2.05
2.05
2.06
2.05
2.06
2.05
2.06
2.06
2.06
2.06
4.15
8.00
8.00
S.uO
8.00
8.00
8.00
8.00
8.00
8.00
8.00
8.00 ;
8.001
8.00
SAILS ARRIVE AVD RRADT FOR DI8TRIBUTIOK :
A.M. F.M.
Hew York and E..
Femberton.
Vlncentown.
Hlgbtatown.
Trenton.
Bordentown.
Fore lan.
West.
Atlantic City.
SK Medford.
FbiladelDbia.
a. . Burlington.
MB - vndeu .
bntaberton..
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
7.45
9.15
9.15
9.15
915
9.15
9.15
LI.16
11.15
11.15
11.15
LI.15
LI. 15
11.15
3.00
3.00
8.00
8.00
3.00
3.00
3.00
3.00
3.00j
3.oo!
5.3C
8.SC
B3C
5.8C
s.at
9.00
900
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
9.00
OAKCKL A. ATKINSON,
^ATTORNEY AT LAW, SOLICITOR AND
MASTER IN CHANCERY.
No. 109 Mam St., Opposite Washington House,
Mount Holly, N. J.
^jRABLIS At. SLOAN.
riRE AND LIFK INSURANCE.
Office In Arcade Building, Mount HoUy, N. J
P RORGB w. chamberlain. D. D. I.
^ NEW EGYPT, N. J.
Office Dara: Every Thursday, Friday and
linii ‘
Saturday. Gas Administered.
QHARLES EWAN MERRITT,
attorney and counsellor at law,
Mam street, opposite Arcade,
Mount Holly, N. J.
XH. CRAMER.
. SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER,
COMMISSIONER OF DEEDS,
JUSTICE OF THE PEACE,
CbdabRtr*. Ooeae Cornrrv, N. J.
s
AMURL PALSY, M. D„
HOMCEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN,
Garden Street, near Cherry Street, Mount
Holly, N. J.
Office Hours: 7 to 9 a. 1 to S r. m.,6 8to r *.
G
BOROS W. V ASDKRYEBR. M. D.
xfomoeooathiat,
Garden St. near Buttonwood, Mount Holly,
Omni Hour* :
r Until# a. m.
| # to 8 p.m.
{. 1 to 2 P. M.
T/IKK, LIFE AMD ACCIDENT IMSCB
r, ANCE.
Reliable Companies and lowest rates. Cor
ispondence solicited.
SAMUEL A. ATKINSON,
r General Insurance Agent.
109 Main Street, Mount Bony, N. J.
0MAR. MARKER, 91. D., D. D. R.
DENTAL OFFICE AND LAB0BAT0R1
No. I 37 MAIN STREET.
(Cor. Main & Unioe «».,)
Mount Solly, 3V. «T.
Hodge’s, Wyeth’s, Hoffs’
and Royal Malts at
Jones’ Drug Store,
MOUNT HOLLY, N. J.
Best Attention Given Prescriptions
First-Olasa Work. Seasonable Prioee
WILLIAM .H CLINE,
FURNISHINQ UNDERTAKER,
VINCENTOWN. N. J.
Orders by Telegraph will be promptly at
tended to.
Mount Holly Academy,
A BOARDING and DAY SCHOOL
—FOR—
Boys and Young Men.
Apply toroureatalogoe, which contains full
particulars and references.
Bay. JAMBS J. COALS, A. M., (Prlnoeton),
Principal.
S'
TOOKII
BOUGHT AND SOLD
on Commission ana carried on favorable
Terms.
Being members of b;>th the Philadelphia and
New York Stock Exchanges, and having a
private wire direct from our office to New
York, we are prepared to execute orders left
with us promptly and satisfactorily, Ac
counts received and interest allowed.
DeHaven & TownsencL
NO. 428 CHESTNUT STREET. Philadelphia
rOUNT HOLLY SEMINARY,
Kin M. ADELAIDE ATKINSON. Pnnoipal
(Opposite the Court House.)
This well-known establishment for Young
Ladles and Children, will re-onen on 8KP
*..1th. The oonrse of Instruction ts
TKM HER 19th. _ ■ ■
most careful and thorough. Three bright,
well-vent Dated and carpeted school rooms
offer exceptional advantages, being well fur
nished with all latest Improvements. South
•rn exposure. No "cross lights" to ruin the
eyesight. Two regular grades in each room.
Play ground, large and private. The Klnder
■arten Idea of combining the amusing and In
erestlng with the Instructive, will be entered
more fully than ever, in the primary
s, during tbe coming year.
|ee£ Wine & Iron,
ovb make, 50 cents a pint.
[ES’ DRUG STORE
, tbe Fonntain, Mount Holly.
t a glaas of
tn town to get i
-iptiona a Specialty
INCREASED SIZE
&oF BEST
QUALITY
g B. UPPUTOOTT,
GENERAL AUCTIONEER,
MEDFORD, N. J.
Special Attentlou paid to sales of real estate
stock, terming utensils, etc.
^ DOKON,
WATCHMAKER AND JEWELER,
HO. 8t MAIN STKkfiT, MOUNT HOLLY
&eep8 the best assortment ol Watches,
Chains,
Rings, and Spectacles In Bur
lington County.
Also, a full line of Silver and Plated
Ware.
&
HAVE TOUR PAINTING
DONE BY
Samuel L. Bullock.
Best materials always used. Pure colors,
best White Lead and Zinc and Pure Linseed
OH. All kinds ol painting done; Sign, Orna
mental, Frescoing, graining, Calcimining,
Glazing, Ac. Work solicited from all around.
None but competent and experienced men
employed, and all work guaranteed. All or
ders should be left at my residence, Union
street, or T. B. Bullock’s store, G rden street
Mount Hollv
Tv
COPPEB AND NHEET-1BOM
WARE MANUFACTORY.
The auosorlber, thankful for tne peat lib
eral patronage or the public, announces that
he la still engaged in the manufacture ol
Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, Tinware, Eto.
A tnll variety ol which will bekept con
stantly on hand or msde to order at the shortest
notice.
Tin Roofing, Spouting, Plumbing, Oat and
Steam Fitting
promptly attended toby experienced work
men
W. J. BRANNIN,
MAIN 8TBJ4BT, MOUNT HOLLY,N.
Adjoining St. Andrew’s church.
FRIZZINE.
, Wifi kf'eptbe 11 AIK or BANGS
-in CURL from 1 to 2 weeks in all
kinds of weather. This is not a
_ BANDOLINE or STICKY
"°paration and is ABSOLUTELY BARM
ENS. Take no substitute.. Sold everywhere,
. per bottle or bv mail 30 cents.
• ZZ^'E MPG. CO.. 1001 Chestnut St.. Phils.
What is
Castoria is Dr. Samuel Pitcher’s prescription for Infants
and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor
other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute
for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil.
It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years’ use by
Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays
feverishness. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd,
cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves
teething troubles, cures constipation and flatulency.
Castoria assimilates the food, regulates the stomach
and bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. Cas
toria is the Children’s Panacea—the Mother’s Friend.
Castoria.
" Castoria I* an excellent medicine for chil
dren. Mother! have repeatedly told me of its
good effect upon their children."
Da. Q. 0. Oeooon,
Lowell, Mae*.
" Caatoria la the beet remedy for children of
which I am acquainted. 1 hope the day la not
far distant when mothers wtlloonsider the real
interest of their children, and use Castoria in
stead of the variouaquock nostrums which are
destroying their loved ones, by forcing opium,
morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful
agents down their throats, thereby sending
them to premature graves.”
Da. J. F. KntcHELOB,
Conway, Ark.
Castoria.
" Castoria Is so well adapted to children that
I recommend It as superior to any prescription
known to me.’’
H. A. Arch**, M. D„
111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. T.
** Our physicians in the children’s depart
ment have spoken highly of their experi
ence in their outside practice with Castoria,
and although we only hare among our
medical supplies what is known as regular
products, yet we are free to confess that the
merits of Castoria has won us to look with
favor upon it.”
Unitsd Hospital akd Dispxksaby,
Boston, Mass
Aunts C. Smith, /Ves.,
The Gentftnr Company, T7 Murray Street, now x ors v>ny.
TOP
It is a wonderful remedy, which is alike benefi
cial to you and your children. Such is Scott s Emulsion
of Pure Norwegian Cod Liver Oil and Hypophos
phites of Lime and Soda. It checks wasting in the
children and produces sound, healthy flesh. It keeps
them from taking cold and it will do the same for you
Scott's Emulsion cures Couchs,
Colds, Consumption, Scrofula and
all Anaemic and Wasting Diseases.
Prevents wasting in children. **•
mast as palatable as milk. Gel only
the genuine. Prepared by Scott A
Bowne, Chemists, New York. Sold by
•U Druggists.
Scott’s
Emulsion
Hr. David M. Jordan
of Edmeston, N. Y.
Colorless, Emaciated, Helpless
A Complete Cure by HOOD'S
SARSAPARILLA.
This is from Mr. D. M. Jordan, a re
tired farmer, and one of the most re
spected citizens of Otsego Co., N. Y.
“ Fourteen years ago I had an attack of the
gravel, and have since been troubled with my
Liver and Kidneys
gradually growing worse. Three years ago I
got down so low that I could scarcely walk*
I looked more like a corpse than a living being.
I had no appetite and for five weeks I at©
nothing bat gruel. I was badly emaciated
and had no more color than a marble statue.
Hood’s Sarsaparilla was recommended and I
thought I would try it Before I had finished
the first bottle I noticed that I felt better, suf
fered less, the inflammation of the blad
der had subsided, the color began to return to
ray face, and I began to feel hungry. After
I had taken three bottles I could eat anything
without hurting me. Why, I got so hungry
that I had to eat 5 times a day. I have now
fully recovered, thanks to
Hood’s Sarsaparilla
I feel well and am well. All who know
me marvel to see me so well.” D. M. Jordan.
HOOD'8 PILL8 are the beat after-dinner Pills,
sMist digestion, cure headache and biliousness.
DO YOU
DONT DELAY
BALSAM
It core* Colds,Coughs,Sore Throat Croup,Influen
za, Whooping Cough, Bronchitis and Asthma. A
oert&in core for Consumption in first stages, and
a sure relief in advanoed stages. Use at once.
Tou will see the excellent effect after taking the
first dose. Sold by dealers everywhere. Large
bottles 50 cents and $1.00.
Jones’ Soda Water,
THE BEST IN TOWN.
Fresh Syrups of our own make.
Try our Ice Cream Soda.
JONES’ DRUG STORE, Opp. the Fountain.
RyPjyPE! enli™ly cured of rupture
We, the underslgneawere
by Dr." J. B. Mayer. 881
Arch St., Philadeiohla, Pa„ S. Jones Philips,
Kailnet Square, Pa.. T. A. Kreltz, Slatington,
Pa.; E. M. Small, Mount Alto, Pa.: L.H. Kun
kei, 487 S. Tenths t., Allentown, Pa.; Bev. 8.
H. 8hermer,Sunbury,Pa.;J.U.Fehr, 1021 Chest
nut St., Heading, Pa.: D. J. Dellett, 214 8.
Twelfth St., Heading, Pa.; J. Yates, 424 Vine
8t., Philadelphia; Wm. Dix, 1826, Montrose
8t., Philadelphia ; H. L. Howe, 309 Elm St..
Beading, Pa.; George and Fh. Bnrkart, 489
Locust St., Beading, Pa. Send lor circular.
I ME NEXT WORNINQ I FEEL BRIGHT AND
NEW AND MY COMPLEXION IS BETTER.
My doctor Bays it acts gently on the stomach, liver
and kidneys, and Isa pleasant laxative. This drink
is made from herbs, and Is prepared for use as easily
as tea. It is called
LAKE’S MEDICINE
AlKdrugglsts sell it at 50c. and $1.00 per package.
Buy one to day. June's Family Medicine moves
the bowels eaoU day. In order to be healthy, thta
is necessary.
JANET’S WOOERS.
Quaint little Janet two wooers had,
And ^ne was handsome and one was plain.
Each, in her eyes, was a gallant lad,
Hard was the choosing betwixt the twain.
For if Donald McDonald was straight and tall
Sandy Bain had a winning way;
And on which of the two should her favor fall
Was a question that puzzled her every day.
Both protested they loved her well,
Ncr did sweet Janet presume to doubt
•‘But oh,” she sighed, “for some mystic spell,
That which loves me better I might find
out!*'
Oh, honest wishing can never be naught,
When patient striving is added thereto.
And so little Janet found what she sought
And saw which lover to her would be true
And so it was Sandy that heard a "yes”
From lips that faltered while eyes looked
down.
“I feared It was Donald you would bless,
Whose life with happiness you would crown,”
Said modest Sandy. Then up she glanced;
“Yes, Donald loves me,” she began,
The while her eyes with mischief danced,
And fears poor Sandy's heart o’er ran.
“But second I could never be,”
Lightly she laughed as any elf,
“And bettor, I know, than he loves me,
Our handsome Donald loves himself.”
—William Z. Gladwin, in Detroit Free Press.
ROSE’S REVENGE.
It Was a Noble One, and Brought
Her a Reward.
Quiet as a grave In the moonlight
was the Aslin mansion in the sultry
summer afternoon. The Biesta then
absolved everyone from the present,
and, in the land of dreams, mistress
and slaves found a temporary equality.
In her own vast, dusky room, closely
inclosed from every sunbeam, madam
vi as fast asleep. She was at all times
a beautiful woman, but more so now
in her snowy deshabille, calm and still
behind rose-tinted mosauito-screens.
I hare said all were asleep and
dreaming, but I must make one excep
tion. Frank Aslin, aged twenty, was
dreaming without sleeping. He had in
his pocket a letter which was quite
sufficient to banish sleep from such an
enthusiastic, romantic nature; and yet
the letter was only from his father, the
grayest gentleman you would meet in
a year's journeying. It was short and
simple enough, as all Judge Aslin's let
ters were, and merely said:
"Dxar Bot; I shall be home on Wednesday
night. Come to meet me at Neale's station
and bring the carriage, as there will be a young
lady with me. Give Queen orders to make all
arrangements (or her comfort If your mother
(eels able to give any directions I shall feel
obliged to her. ”
But Mrs Aslin had not felt able. She
heard the news just as she was pre
paring for her siesta and was satisfied
to delegate full powers to the negress
Queen. Who the young lady was she
did not know—and she really had little
care. The house was large enough to
give a room to a good client of the j
judge’s without causing her any an
noyance, and she was quite sure that
Judge Aslin would not offer his hospi
talities to anyone who was not likely
in some way or other to be an equiva
lent.
Felippa and Joanna Aslin, being
themselves young, ladies, speculated
a little about the stranger, but with no
lively interest. They had seen several
of their father’s lady clients and they
had generally been women of a sor
rowful spirit, struggling through the
intricacies of Spanish land titles and
government claims. The word “young”
lady was, indeed, the promise of some
thing different; but they inherited,
with the Mexican beauty of their
mother, her lazy, inert disposition, and
they knew no medium between indif
ference and enthusiasm. Frank, on
the contrary, with the Scotch physiog
nomy of his father, had also Inherited
his speculative, energetio temperament.
“None are so pretty as my little
mamma,” said Frank, stooping to kiss
the lovely face lifting itself out of
floating lace and gleaming gema Then
he drove rapidly to Neale’s Btatlon and
was just in time to see his father lift a
young girl out of the stage—a girl
?uite unlike any he had ever seen, a
air, rosy, golden-haired divinity, who
lifted eyes, blue and clear as heaven,
to meet him.
The judge said her father had been
his earliest friend and that Rose and
her fortune were left to his care. lie
demanded for her the coolest rooms,
the best maid, the most scrupulous at
tentions. Her dresses were rich, her
allowance ample and there seemed no
earthly reason for madam to interfere
with Frank’s worship of his new divin
ity. So the sweet old drama was lived
over again; it was delicious enough to
live it over in that dreamy, passionate
clime, where no rude element jarred
its perfect beauty. But, though Judge
Aslin seemed well content that Frank
and Rose should love each other, he
•rsistently opposed all talk of mar
uge. By and by this opposition, where
opposition seemed so unnecessary,
roused all the dormant curiosity and
jealousy of madam's southern nature.
tlhe began to question Hose carefully
about her former life; but the child had
nothing vo conceal, and told all with a
frankness which madam considered of
itself proof positive of a preconcerted
tale. Her mother she denied all knowl
edge of; her father she described as a
sad, lonely gentleman, writing much
and seeing very few strangers. When
madam asked about the "establish
ment,” Hose described a little cottage,
standing in a cocoa and tamarind
grove, and an old negro woman, who
she said was still living in Key West
all of which increased suspicion against
her, as Mr. Aslin had told a very differ
ent story.
He had spoken of great obligations
to this evidently poor, uninfiuential
gentleman, "who wrote much and saw
few strangers,” and had intimated that
Hose was connected with a wealthy
and powerful family and was heiress
to large estates.
With all her inexperience and sim
plicity of character, Rose was at length
sensible of being watched and not
pleasantly commented on. Her ram
bles with Prank became matters for
espionage, and every kind word and
action from her guardian raised an
angry frown on all the ladies' brows.
Vhcn Frank was suddenly, and with
scarcely any preparation, sent to
Europe, and her life settled down into
a dull, unhappy monotony, which was
now unbroken by any efforts on the.
part of madam or the young ladies to
lighten. They received and paid visits
and went occasionally to New Orleans
for a week’s holiday, but never on any
occasion requested her society.
Rose could not be ignorant that this
change had not been accomplished
without much angry disputing in the
house, but there are situations in which
a man is powerless to defend a woman,
however anxious he may be to do so,
and Mr. Aslin felt this fact painfully.
Just what were his wife’s suspicions,
she never told anyone. It is likely she
had not even decided on them in her
own heart, but they had a very decided
effect Miss Rose Van Ransaleur’s
name began to be omitted from all
invitations and calls of oeroraony, and
the very servants dropped the element
of respect out of their attentions, unless
Mr. Aslin was present.
Poor little Roso. This was not her
only trouble. Prauk never wrote to
her. His mother Indeed read some
pleasant message or apology In the
first letters, with always a promise of
a long letter for herself, but It never
came; and gradually even the message
grew colder, until it, too, was for
gotten.
Nothing can change the nature of a
woman like the indulgence of one over
mastering passion. In her insane jeal
ousy, madam forgot her Inherent lazi
ness. She learned to follow Rose into
the loneliest and most distant parts of
the plantation and to watch her at
hours onoe absolutely devoted to slum
ber and privacy. Prom this terrible
persecution, Bose began slowl* to per
ceive she must fly somewhere*'
Ot»e day, when the madams and her
pretty ungenerous daughters had gone
for a holiday to New Orleans, Bose, de
fying her negro guards, went boldly to
Mr. Aslin’s office and poured forth,
with passionate tears and complaints,
all her wrongs, entreating that her
real position might be explained to her.
Mr. Aslin seemed to suffer In her ‘re
cital more keenly than Rose herself. A
spasm of intense agony contracted his
face, but he would not suffer hsr to
more.
“ It will be over soon, child,” he said,
“and it is well that you have brought
me to this point You shall know all
that I can tell you. Bose, your father
and I were sworn friendB even in early
boyhood. We were both at the same
school. I was strong and he was sickly
and weak. I fought hie battles and
talked to him through many a night
when he was suffering too much to
sleep.
“Then, dear, we both went to Eu
rope, and I, while he was studying
hard, gave myself up to every species
of sin and dissipation. Yet his love
never grew cold; his patience never
wearied. At last, Rose, I committed a
crime which would have sent me to
prison for the best years of my life, had
not your father, by absolutely impov
erishing himself, placed me in safety.
He did this without a word of re
proach. He clasped my stained hand
and wept as bitterly at parting with
me as if I had been worthy of his love.
“I buried myself in this wilderness,
then a Mexican town, and commenced
the practice of law. After some years
I married, and wealth and honors fol
lowed me; but I never had another
friend. I kept my own counsel even
from my wife. About five years after
my settlement here your father wrote
and told me that a lovely girl whom
he had married in defiance of his father
and friends’ wish was apparently dy
ing. He had hopes of delaying death,
however, in a southern climate if I
could find a nice home for him. Just
at that time, the little Florida place was
lying in my hands for exchange for Tex
as sugar lands, and I bought it, and
went myself to meet my friend to see
him comfortably accommodated to eh
cumstances.
xour moiner nngereu aouui a year,
and, after her death, his Florida home
became very dear to your father. The
climate suited his health. It was far
removed from all his estranged fami
ly. He could live economically there.
And as I was now able to pay back
gradually my debt, there was no need
for any exertion on his part. He de
voted himself to literature, and became
a noted writer on the subjects he inves
tigated.
“But the quarrel with his family was
never healed. He was, in general, for
giving and forbearing to a fault; but
the opposition and cruelty which his
young wife had met with he considered
unpardonable. When he found himself
dying he sent for me and committed
you and your interests to my care.
Knowing that you giust (however poor
you now are) eventually inherit your
grandfather’s immense wealth, how
could I let you, in the foolish tender
ness of a first passion, marry Frank?
My duty to you demands that you must
see more of the world before deciding
so important a matter.
“It is time you went now to those
more able to protect you than I am.
For your own welfare 1 would lay
down my life against anything 1 could
fight; but women have a subtle method
of annoyance before which I am pow
erless. This is the more necessary as
my own life is very uncertain and 1
may die in any such attack as yoi:
have witnessed. Besides, in my opin
ion, there is going to be a long and bit
ter war, and before it is over God only
knows how I shall be situated, even ir
alive. Will you go north at once or
will you wait until I communicate with
your grandfather?”
“I will go at once.”
"To-morrow, then, we start To
night I will put in order all your fa
ther's letters and papers; they will gi
with us, and I will at the same tiini
make all necessary explanations.”
“But, madam, she will be so angry at
you.”
“I can brave madam’s anger for tin
child of one who braved infamy am.
poverty for me. Make as few prepara
tions us possible; we will take th<
house by surprise in spite of their vigi
lance.”
Next morning the judge made no sc
cret of his intentions. He left slander
nothing to speculate about Senor
Gonzales, madam's brother, was per
fectly satisfied and agreeable, and no
one in the village ever cared to dissent
from a gentleman at once so ready to
take offense and to exact apologies as
the Mexican don was.
1 he journey, begun without a single
"Godspeed,” nevertheless prospered.
In about eight days Bosa found herself
within the shadow of a splendid, old
brick mansion, the petted and beloved
child of a doting old man. Mr. Aslin
lingered a few days. He set the mem
ory of his dead friend In noblest sen
tences before the regretful father; ha
saw Rose fully acknowledged in all her
rights, and bright and happy in recov
ered love and confidence. With a noble
self-denial he never named Prank, but
at the last hour Bose's own heart spoke
for both.
“Before you say good-by,” she whis
pered, “tell me truly: Do you think
Frank has forgotten me?”
“I am sure he has not, Rose. You
will find out one day that his truth and
honor are unstained. But never for
get, child, one thing: Have no engage
ment without your grandfather’s
knowledge. I never knew a blessing
on a sinful, willful marriage. The
blessing of friends asks God's blessing,
too, my child.”
The war prophesied came with the
rapidity of a thunderstorm. Hardly
had Mr. Aslin got home when the
country was sealed to social inter
course, and local information became
very uncertain and infrequent In the
earliest phase of the excitement Mr.
Aslin died of heart disease, and* Senov
Gonzales went with a troop of lawless
men to the Mexican frontier. Prank
was in Constantinople, and how the
reckless, improvident family, with a
troop of lazy, unmanageable servants,
was to live without the judge’s income
and the senor's overseeing seemed n
doubtful problem.
But time to Rose flew in those days
of excitement One great event trod on
the heels of another. About three
years, after Rose had "come to her
own” and been received by them, had
passed away; and Rose was still Rose
Van Ransaleur. There had been no
lack of lovers, but noue of them suited
Rose for a husband, and the old gen
tleman smiled grimly as one after an
other stopped visiting at the old brick
mansion.
Getting toward Christmas in the
fourth year of the war, Rose went one
morning with her grandfather to call
.on a friend staying in one of the fash
ionable hotels. The clerk who an
swered her grandfather's inquiries was
Prank Aslin. Rose looked gladly,
steadily at him; there was no doubt of
his Identity. In eager, tearful tone i
she drew her grandfather aside and
told him all the Jrutli. It was rather a
bitter pill for the old gentleman to !
swallow, but he did not hesitate before
so manifest a courtesy and duty.
Still he could not quite oontrol him
self.
“These Aslins seem our evil genius.
Rose,” he Bald; "their friendship in one
generation is enough.”
"Nay. graudfather, this generation
reaps what the last one sowed."
He shook Ills head doubttngly, but
after putting her in the carriage went
frankly up to the young man uud said;
"Mr. Frank Aslin?"
For one moment Prank hesitated,
and then answered;
"1 know no reason for denying my
name. N -cessity has no law, sir."
"I um an old friend of your dead
father, and 1 propose in the pres -nt
unpleasant tiiroum»tan<;c» to take hi
place toward .you. Will you dine with
me to-night at seven o’clock?"
The offer so frankly made was as
frankly accepted, and the meeting be
tween guest and granddaughter was
such as to render all explanations un
necessary.
Frank’s story was a very common
one. He had found his money barely
sufficient to bring him back to New
York, and had arrived too late to re
turn home with safety. His efforts to
obtain employment had been limited
by the fact that he had been brought
up “to do nothing;” and, without a
trade or profession, he had been thank
ful enough to drift into a hotel clerk
ship until the evil days were over.
1 do not pretend that he was a hero,
but Rose glorified him in her imagina
tion into one. It is a way women
have; and without it, 1 am afraid, the
world would not get carried on at all.
When the war closed at last, the
Aslin mansion and estate were adver
tised for sale at a mere nominal value.
Old Mr. Van Ransaleur brought it
quietly and gave it to Rose for her
wedding present. Frank soon after
carried the title-deeds down south, and
a proud, dark woman took them with
tears of passionate joy out of his
hands. That was Rose’s revenge. It
might have been coals of fire to some
people, but it was not to madam. She
had still the idea that in some unex
plained way she was the injured party.
However, as the years rolled on and
the beautiful southern sisters got a
habit of coming every summer to Frank
and Rose, a more generous feeling
grew up in hearts little used to ac
knowledge the rights of others.
Rose one morning came radiant into
her husband’s room, saying:
“FrankI Frank! Guess whom my let
ter is from!’'
“It looks like my mother’s writing."
"It is. She says she has quite for
given us, and is coming to be godmoth
er to the new baby. We must certain
ly call it Papeta, after her.”—Amelia
El Barr, in N. Y. Ledger.
HOW AN EMPRESS LIVES.
Something About High Life at the Aaa
trlan Court.
The duties of lady in waiting to the
empress of Austria are somewhat
fatiguing, especially when the court is
en vellegiature at Godollo in Hungary,
for her majesty is a very early riser.
Every morning she attends mass in the
private chapel of the castle at six
o’clock, which of course entails getting
up soon after five. After chapel she
takes a cup of strong black coffee with
out Bugar, milk or anything to eat, and
then, attended by her lady, mounts her
horse and gallops off through the
magnificent park, traversed in every
direction by sandy avenues, especially
adapted for riding. If the weather is
bad the morning is divided be
tween the immense riding school
adjoining the castle and fencing
hall. In the riding school the
Empress amuses herself by performing
in the most skillful manner possible all
the equestrian feats, such as bareback
riding, jumping through hoops, etc.,
usually seen at the circus. No one but
the lady in waiting and the grooms are
admitted to the riding school when she
is there. She is a first-rate fencer, and
never allows a day to pass without at
least half an hour with the foils. At
eleven she returns to the castle for a
bath and breakfast The latter is of
the simplest kind, consisting of a mi
nute morsel of very rare steak,dry toast,
a eup of tea without sugar or milk, and
a glass of Montrose claret, the only per
son at table with her being the lady in
waiting. After lighting her cigai-ette
she retires to her own apartments,
where she remains until three o’clock,
sometimes doing, and at other times
chatting with her youngest daughter,
the Archduchess Valerie, who is her
favorite child.
At three, attended by her lady, and
sometimes accompanied by her brother,
Duke Louis of Bavaria, she again goes
out riding, and only returns in time to
dress lor dinner at eight o’clock, at
which the emperor, the members of the
imperial family, together with the
ohief personages of the oourt, are pres
ent. The lady in waiting, to whom are
Intrusted her majesty’s gloves, fan and
bouquet, is invariably seated at table
in the immediate vicinity of the em
press, who, after dinner, lights hei
sternal cigarette, nay, even sometimes
one of those terribly-strong Austrian
cigars, and smokes until ten o’clock,
when she retires to rest The lady in
waiting then proceeds to ths apart
ments of the grand mistress of the
robes, to spend the remainder
of the evening there, in com
pany with the chamberlain and
aides-de-camp. It is hardly necessary
to add that eight or ten weeks of such
a life are sufficient to exhaust the
forces of even the strongest lady in
waiting. Apart from the necessity of
being perpetually on the qui vive and
always in good humor, it requires an
exceptional constitution, such as that
of the Empress herself, to be able to
spend every day seven or eight hours in
the saddle.
A11 of her majesty’s ladles hare nat
urally to be excellent and fearless
horsewomen, and to those who ride the
best she Is particularly kind and in
dulgent Although close upon fifty
years old, and haring grandchildren ol
over twelve years of age, she is still
one of the most beautiful women in
her dominions. Her magnificent chest
nut-colored hair reaches down below
her knees, and her feet and hands are
perfection. It is indeed surprising that
her three children are so remarkably
plain, particularly as the emperor is an
exceedingly handsome man.
Notwithstanding the fact that hai
reputation has never been assailed by
oalumny of any kind, she is far from
popular in Austria, and it is only with
the greatest difficulty that she can b<
Induced to attend those state functions
which necessitate her appearance in
public at Vienn. The inhabitants of
the latter city so seldom get a sight of
her that when she does happen to favoi
them with her presence at any cere
mony, opera and race glasses, nay, even
telescopes are used by the crowd star
ing at her, a fact which considerably
annoys the royal lady. In her beloved
Hungary, however, she lays aside all
her cold and formal manner, and has
won all the hearts of that impressiona
ble people by her unaffected gracious
ness and the absence of haughtiness.
Besides being the most perfect horse'
woman in Europe, her majesty is an in
trepid mountaineer and first-rate shot,
spending sometimes whole days in stalk
ing chamois up the most inaccessible
heights.
The story of her betrothal to the em
peror is somewhat romantic. A mar
riage had been negotiated for him with
the eldest daughter of Duke Maxi
milian, of Bavaria, and the emperoi
arrived at the castle of the latter to be
officially betrothed. As soon, however,
as he caught sight of the younger sis
ter, as yet in short dresses and in tha
school room, he fell madly in love with
her, and at length broke off his en
gagement with the elder sister in ordet
to marry the younger. The marriage
was not a popular one at Vienna, for a
more grand alliance had been looked
for than that with the impoverished
family of Duke Maximilian, and during
the first years of her wedded life the
empress was simply boycotted by the
naughty aristocracy of Austria, a fact
which she has never forgotten or for
given.—N. Y. Mail and Express.
—Ralph Lane and liis companions, of
Sir Walter Raleigh’s Virginian expedi
tion, were the first to carry tobacco
into England. They learned from the
Indians to smoke it in Indian fashion,
by drawing the smoke into their
mouths and puffing it out through
their nostrils. Raleigh adopted the
practice, and many distinguished men
and women followed his example.
—Niie—" 1 i*e bride's father gives her
away, I suppose?” He—"No. Ho sold
her privately." _
AT THE CORNERS.
[Tale of a Tramp.]
A dreary, wild November day,
The winds are whistling on their way
Across the moor.
He does not hesitate to wedge
His shivering form within the hedge,
A shelter poor.
Along the slippery, rutted tracks,
High loaded with their bursting sacks,
Farm wagons roll
They heed him not, nor <*eem to hear
The wail of misery and fear
That rends his soul
The daylight fades and with It hope,
▲gain through cruel night to grope
His bitter lot
But stay’ What sound comes through the
storm?
▲ little voice! A child’s wee form,
Its way forgot!
'‘Alas! poor comfort of my rest,
Without a roof or shutter blest,
What warmth is here
We’ll ofTcr this bewildered child—
God! but the storm is howling wild,
With wintry fear!
"There, little one, I’ll wrap this coat,
Such as it is, 'bout arms and throat.
Dear frozen mite!
Lord! can I think beyond the years!
My babe—adrift and cold—In team
On such a night!
"Rest, child; your head upon this ana
la safe enough from other harm
Than wolfish cold.
Don’t cry! Till mdrning comes just sleep,
Somehow we’ll manage life to keep.
You see I’m bold.’’
Along the slippery highways shine,
Now high, now low, torchlights of pine,
Whose eager raya
Hunt out the shanows from the hedge
And throw within the woodland’s edge
Their anxious blaze.
They’re meeting at the corners now,
Strong heads in tearful sorrow bow,
For hope seems fled.
When, from the hedge’s gloom a moan
Gomes faintly, and the light is thrown,
A glow of red.
There, folded to a loyal breast.
The ohild enjoys a troubled rest,
Yet nothing oares;
He’s certain his poor ragged friend
WU1 guard till night be at an end,
Though ill he farea
The tramp, poor fellow, bent and cold,
A piteous sight—gray-haired and old—
No word he said.
They try to rouse him from his seat,
But rest has come at last most sweet,
The tramp Is dead!
—George E. Bowen, in Inter Ooeaa.
A PRECEDENT.
Two Deer at One Shot Not Ex
traordinary.
The news had come In that a hunter
back on P’ison Run had bagged two
deer at one shot, and there was great
diversity of opinion at the tavern aa to
whether the hunter had actually done
it or not Some professed to believe it
while others loudly proclaimed that
they would bet a little something that
there wasn't a word of truth in it The
squire was among the latter, and the
Old Settler coming in when the discus
sion was at its height he was placed in
possession of the disturbing news.
“W’at-a ye think 'bout it major?”
asked the Squire.
“Who were the hunter?" said the Old
Settler, sitting down, and assuming a
wise and judicial air.
"Baisly Cronk,” replied the Squire.
“O’Cronk Hill?" asked the Old Set
tler.
"Yes; him.”
“Do y’ know wuther his gun were
loaded tol’able heavy?”
“Dunno nuthin’ 'bout his gun!”
"Did y’ hear wuther he were patient
er than common w'ile he were waitin'
fer his shot?”
“Dura his patience! Do y’ b’lieve
he got them two deer at one shot or
don’t y’?”
"Were tha anythin’, said 'bout his
waitin’ till he see the whites o’ their
eyes?”
"See here, major!” exclaimed the
Squire, his patience exhausted. “Be I
a witness in a britch o' promise suit, or
be I wantin’ to know what y’ think
'bout Baisly Cronk gettin’ them two
deer at one shot? It don't make no
dlfler’nce, ex a matter o’ that, w'at y’
think; but w’at'a all this here rig’ma
role o’ your’n got to do with it?”
“Squire,” said the Old Settler, bland
ly, and without a feather ruffled, “alluz
load yer gun heavy an’ hev patience,
an’ don’t shoot till y' see the whites o’
their eyes. Then if y’ don’t git enough
b’ar meat an’ venison, et cettery, at
one shot to last y’ pooty ni;,-h all win
ter, it'll be sumpin’ that hain't in none
o' the perceedents o’ the past that I
know anythin’ about! That is. pervidin’
y’ don’t shoot too high, or too low, or too
much on one side, or too much on
t’other. Tha hain’t nuthin’ that’ll
knock perceedents inter a cocked hat so
quick ez that kind o' shootin’t Do 1
b’lieve Baisly Cronk got them two deer
at one shot? Not if ho didn’t hev his
gun loaded heavy, nor didn’t hev no
patience, nor didn’t wait till he see the
whites o’ their eyes, I don’t. If he did
hev all them, o' course I b’lieve it. An’
if his gun were loaded heavy enough,
an’ he had patience enough, an’ he
waited till he see the whites o’ their
eyes enough, he orter got more than
two deer at one shot. Tha’s perceedents
fer it"
inere was a 100* 'Ui uimgicu uujju»
and commiseration on the Squire's
face as he stood for a moment gazing
at the Old Settler. Then he exclaimed:
“Mebbe tha is perceedents fer it, but
if tha’s any perceedent fer a man a
gittin’ ez foolly ez you be, day arter
day, I nerer heerd on it.”
“Mebbe!” said the Old Settler, with
surprising and aggravating calmness.
"But then tha’s a good many things
you never heerd on, Squire, an’ 1
shouldn’t wonder if one of ’em were
the time 1 stood on a runway fer an
hour seoin’ a b’ar feedin’ an’ prancin’
around in the scrub oaks, an’ not wunst
a-pullin' bead on him, ’cause 1 had pa
tience, b'gosh, an’ know’d that if I
handled things right the future were
bulgin’ fer me with more than jist one
b’arl I shouldn’t wonder a bit. Squire,
but w’at that time were one o' the
things you never heerd onl”
The Squire shook his head slowly,
and, as if soliloquizing over some mel
ancholy fact, muttered: “Foolier an’
foolier ev’ry day! An’ his pap lived to
be eighty-six an' wa’n’t a mite child
ish! An’ a sensibler woman at ninety
than his ol’ mammy were I never see!”
The Old Settler bristled a little, and
there was a little warmth in his tongue
as he remarked:
"I was sayin’ to M’riar only this
mornin’, ’M’riar,’ I says, ‘seems to me
the Squire’s gett'n’ oncommon sociable
all to w unst, hain’t he?’ I says.
’“How so?’ says M’riar.
“ ‘VV’y,’ I says, ‘he’s stopped at the
gate moro’n a dozen times this week,
I says, ‘an’ ast p’tlc’lar how you was,’
I says, ’an’ how yer lard tried out,’ Z
says, ’an’ how my roomytiz were,’ I
says, ‘an’ if my ’taters was rottin’ any,’
1 says, ’an’ if wo wouldn’t like to try
a roastin’ o’ his spare ribs,’ I says, ‘an’
seemed ter’ble anxious,’ I says, ‘about
how things was turnin’ out ’round our
premises in giner'l,’ I says. ‘It’s ben a
year an- better,’ I says, ‘sence the
Squire has ben so oncommon sociable
an’ anxious. Wat do y’ a’pose has
struck him, M’riar?’ I says
“ ‘Mebbe he’s heerd,’ says M’riar,
•bout them three bar’i o’ cider we’ve
rolled inter the cellar,’ says she.
‘B’gosh!’ says I. ’That’s it!’ ”
The Squire’s response to this sally of
the Old Settler was lost in the burst of
laughter that the latter called forth,
and when quiet was restored he was
aerene and good-natured, and the Old
Settler was beaming again. But he
was not to be diverted from what he
had set out to narrate, and he Immedi
ately resumed:
“Llppy Coukrlght, he says to me one
day, he says; ’Stle, thas a slammin’
big buck jlst achin’ fer a doae o’ lead
over on Wild Gander,’ he says, ‘Le’ss
go an’ plug some inter It,’ he says.
That jist suited me clean through, as*
we went.”
" ‘Will y’ drive the ridge?1 says Llp
py. ‘Or will y’ stan’ on the runway?’
*• ‘Wuil. Uoov.’ I save, ‘bela’a U'e s
cold an’ squally day an’ the runway U
the toughest job,’ I says, ‘you Idn
drive.’
“So Lippy took the dogs an’ went off
back on the ridge to start out the big
buck. I put myself on the ol’ red oak
runway an' waited for the unfort’nit
deer to come along. I hadn’t ben there
ten minutes ’fore off on the scrub oak
barren I see a golthumpin’ big b’ar
come out and go to feedin’ on the
acorns. My gun were loaded heavy, 1
kin tell ye, an’ I says to myself:
“ ‘See here, b’ar,’ I says, ‘you cornea
leetle nigher, b’gosh, an1 Til hef to har
vest ye!’
"Wull, the b’ar, not seein’ or gittin’
scent o’ me, kep on feedin’ nigher an’
nigher, an’ 1 could ’a’ bored him ez
easy ez borin’ a hole inter a sap tree,
but it come over me, ez the b’ar fed
along, that w’at I wanted to do were
to hev patience.
“ ‘We hain’t out arter b’ar,’ I says.
‘We’m arter deer, an’ if I plug that
b’ar,’ I says, ‘the buck is liable to hear
it an’ shy off fer some other runway,
an’ we won’t gH him,’ I says. ‘But,’ I
says, ‘if 1 hev patience, tha’s a future
right here on this red oak runway,’ I
says, ‘that’ll make cornin’ ginerations
hoi’ up their hands an’ wonder,’ I says.
“So, hevin’ my gun loaded heavy, an’
hevin’ patience, I stood thar in the
blusterin’ cold an’ waited fer the future.
The b’ar fed nigher an’ nigher, an’
come so close, b’gosh, that 1 could ’a’
twisted fur outen him with a ten-foot
pole. Then he fed away ag’in, till he
got most out o’ range, an’ then ’spose I
hadn’t ’a’ had patience? I’d’a’ drawed
head an’ plugged that b’ar, sp’iled the
future, an’ my gray hairs ‘d a gone down
in sorrer to the grave ev’ry time I’d a
thortof itl
“W’lle the b’ar were feedin’ away
from me two great big white swamp
rabbits come a-lopin’ out o’ the bushes
an’ went to grass almost where I could
touch ’em. Them kind o’ rabbits was
sca’cer than money in Sugar Swamp
deestric’ jist then, an’ money were so
sca’ce that folks usety come twenty
miles to git a look at a silver shill’n’
my pap brought with him from Jersey.
If I’d ’a’ had my ch’lce I’d ruther
gathered in them two big white rab
bits than the buck or the b’ar, an’ if I
hadn't had patience an’ my eye on the
future I'd ’a’ banged away an’ got ’em.
But I let ’em feed an' said nuthin’. Ez
the rabbits fed around a flock o’ pheas
ants come peckin’ an’ peckin’ out inter
the openin’ right in front o’ me. My
mammy were consid’rable low with a
fever in them days an’ had been
cravin’ fer a hunk o’ pheasant. I’d
been out ev’ry day fer a week, an’ I
couldn't git pheasant to save my giz
zard, an’ here was a half dozent or
more, an’ all I had to do were to pep
per ’em over! I come pooty nigh raisin'
my gun an’ bangin’ ’em w’en my eye
got onter the future ag’in, an’ I stood
still in the cold wind an’ waited.
“Or Jedge Sniffets, at the county
seat, had a standln’ offer o’ sixty dol
lar* for the skin of a silver gray fox,
but tha hadn’t one o’them foxes ben
seen in the deestrio’ fer ten year. Ez I
stood there waitin' fer the future, with
the big b’ar feedln’ in to’rds me ag’in,
an’ the white rabbits nippin’ the grass
around me, an’ the pheasants peckin'
right in front o’ me, I heerd sumpin’
in the brush, off to my right, an' peek
in' out o’ the corner o’ my eye, w’at
should I see but a shiny silver gray
fox.
“ ‘frOBh!’ thinks I, an’ I thunk it
so hard it’s a wonder the b’ar an' the
rabbits an’ the pheasants an’ the fox
didn’t all hear it. ‘Gosh! This future's
gointer be wuth while!’
“ "The b’ar fed nigher an’ nigher. I
ltnow’d w’at the fox were arter. He
had his eye on them white rab
bits. The rabbits nipped around till
they was right behind me. The fox
sneaked around nigher to ’em. The
pheasants kep’ peckin’ away an’ wal
lerin’ right in front o’ me. Pooty soon
i heerd the dogs, an’ knowed the buck
were cornin’.
“ ‘Now,’ I says, ‘if this here gun is
only loaded heavy enough, b’gosh, the
future is made!’
“The b’ar got nigher, an' I see the
deer creakin’ over the ridge.
“ ‘Wait till ye see the whites o’ their
eyes,’ I says.
“The b’ar riz up on his haunches ez
he see the deer cornin’, an’ 1 see the
whites o’ his eyes. The buck come
boundin’ along, an’ ez I see the whites
o’ his eyes he were right betwixt me
an’ the b’ar. I let the ol’ gun beller.
She were loaded heavy enough, fer she
kicked me over back'rds like a log a
fallin’, an’ I heerd the skeert pheasants
whizzin’ up ez I went I throwed up
my hands an’ clutched at sumpin’ ez I
went down. I squashed down on
sumpin' that were soft and wiggly, an’
I stayed there. I were sort o' obfusti
cated fer a minute, but ez soon e* I
come to, b’gosh, 1 know’d the future
had come an’ hadn’t got by me. I had
a pheasant by the neck in each hand.
I had sot down onter the two white
rabbits jist ez the silver-gray fox had
made a jump fer 'em, an’ the fox were
ketched under me, too. Jist then the
dogs come up, an’ I riz up, piled my
pheasants an’ my rabbits an’ my silver
gray fox in a heap, an’ went to see
w’at else the future had brung me. The
ol’ buck were stretched out deader’n a
log, an’ on t’other side of him laid the
War!
"Squire, I dunno whether Baisly
Cronk got them two deer at one shot
or whether he didn’t, an' I don’t keert”
concluded the Old Settler. "But if he
had his (run loaded heavy, an’ had
patience enough, an’ waited till he see
the whites o’ their eyes, I say that ac
cordin’ to all the perceedents that 1
know anythin’ about he orter (rot more
than three deer, b’(rosh!”—Eld Mott, in
«. Y. Sun._
BIG TOWER AT THE FAIR.
One to Be Built with Kleetrle Cars and a
Spiral Ascent to the Summit.
The World’s Columbian exposition is
to have a tower which, in its way. will
be as great an attraction as the famous
Eiffel tower at the Paris exposition.
Ground has already been broken for the
structure and considerable progress has
been made on the foundation. The
tower will he located at the eastern en
trance of the Midway Plaisanee, oppo
site the woman’s building, and will be
five hundred and sixty feet high, with a
diameter of two hundred feet. The
ascent to the summit of the curious
building will be made In cars propelled
by electricity, to be run on a track
which winds about the tower eight
times in making the entire ascent. The
passengers will obtain eight different
pictures of the exposition grounds and
buildings from varying heights, which
will afford the best points of view on
the grounds. The grade is calculated
at eight per cent, to the mile, and aside
from the novelty of a trip into the
clouds the sensation of returning thence
to earth will be as thrilling as one’s first
ride down a toboggan slide.
On the top of the tower is an observa
tory, where the visitor can overlook the
magnificent white city. A brass band
and a stringed orchestra will be sta
tioned on the observatory floor to
furnish aerial music for the enter
tainment of the crowds ascending and
descending. On the ground floor one
of the finest restaurants at the exposi
tion will be established, and all the
ebrated wine houses in the world will
have booths there to display their
choicest vintages. Music will also be
provided in the restaurant. In the even
ing Japanese lanterns, illuminated by
incandescent lights, will be strung
all along the track from base to sum
mit, and the sight of the great building
ablaze with lights will doubtless be one
of the most interesting at the fair. The
foundation of the structure will be of
stone and of the strongest character, as
the weight to be borne will be tre
mendous. The tower is to bo con
structed of iron and steel, which will be
painted a light color to make it attract
ive and at the same time in harmony
with the surrounding buildings.
ROMANCE IN LITERATURE.
Ha Tried the Profession, bat 'Twas Not ns
n Writer That He Succeeded.
There is a well-known gentleman in
this oity who, when a young man at
college, fell in lore with a professor’s
daughter. Of course there is nothing
remarkable about that. Both were
young and she was beautiful. The pro
fessor was poor, but he was wise. There
is nothing remarkable about that Wis
dom is often associated with poverty,
especially that sort of wisdom that
comes from books. The young man was
also poor, but he was not wise—he
wanted to marry the girl right off. And
there was nothing remarkable about
that But the poor, wise professor told
the poor, unwise young man:
"Go forth, go and do something. I
don't care what you do, but go and do
it. Then we'll see about the girl, if
she really thinks she oan’t get along
without you she won’t mind waiting a
year or two. If she won’t wait you
won’t want her.”
The poor, unwise young man filed the
usual demurrer, but it was promptly
overruled. Then he went forth.
The first thing he did was to go and
buy a package of cigarettes and sit
down and think. He did so muoh think
ing of this kind that he nearly starved
to death. Then he tried something
else and pioked up two dollars a week
and twenty dollars worth of self-re
spect But he didn’t see any opening
for matrimony and tried something else.
This, too. failed. Then he tried some
thing else.
The professor said he was a shiftless
fellow—a rolling stone.
The daughter said he was a noble
young fellow and would get there.
The {young man had that girl in his
eye all the time. Yet he seemed te
monkey with the great world. HeJtried
literature—newspaper literature.
The professor said that settled it
So did the girl.
It did settle it—for the young man,
now unwise and young no longer, grew
to fame and wealth as the head of a
great syndicate, makes fifteen thousand
dollars a year, married the professor’s
daughter and hires the professor at fif
teen dollars a week to kill copy.—N. Y
Herald.
SWAPPING WIVES.
The Carton* Proposal Made bj a Primi
tive Squatter Down Booth.
Twenty years ago the people of
that section of the country embraced
in western North Carolina and eastern
Tennessee were primitive in the ex
treme, said a traveler recently.
Few could read; not one in a hun
dred had ever Been a railroad or a town
of one thousand inhabitants. I was
tramping through the mountains mak
ing some sketches and my wife, then
an exceedingly handsome woman of
twenty, accompanied me. We stopped
one night at the cabin of a squatter
who was a typical mountaineer. His
wife was a tall, raw-boned, slatternly
woman with a snuff stick and a sharp
tongue. After a supper of “corn pone,”
milk and fat p ork the host took me out
side and, pointing with his thumb over
his shoulder to our respective wives
said:
“How’ll you swap?”
X had heard that the people of that
country sometimes traded wives, but
regarded it as a foolish burlesque.
"Well,” said I, inclined to get some
amusement out of it, “make an offer."
“I kinder reckon,” said the would-be
swapper, “that my wife’s wuth the
most. She’s the biggest’n’ strongest.
She kin milk cows, dig seng and kin
cook a ’possum to a turn. But I’ve had
her nigh onto a year an’ am gettin’
tired of her old clapper of a tongue.
I’ll swap even.”
I declined the offer and he finally
offered to give as boot a squirrel rifle
and a dog warranted to be death on
coons. This liberal offer did not tempt
me, and as we were about to leave he
offered to add a jug of moonlight
whisky. This was too much for the
temper of his partner.
“Well, Zack Jenkins," said she, with
asperity, “I’ve been swapped four
times, an’ you’re the first feller that
didn't cackerlate that I wus wuth a
deal more in a trade than t’other
woman.”
We departed, leaving Zack to ex
plain matters as best he could.—St
Louis Globe-Democrat.
NEW INTOXICANT.
k Specie* of Mushroom Which Uh the
Sumo Effect a* LIqnor.
The inhabitants of the northwestern
part of Asia use a mushroom to pro
mote intoxication. It is known as the
fly-blown mushroom, and is also very
abundant in Scotland. The fungus is
gathered in the hottest part of the
year, and is then hung up by a string
in the air to dry. Some are dry before
gathered, and these are stated to be
far more narcotic than those artificial
ly preserved. Usually the fungus is
rolled up like a bolus, and taken with
out ohewing, for, if masticated, it is
said to disorder the stomach. One large
or two small fungi produce what is
looked npon as a pleasant state of in
toxication for one day. The effect is
the same as that produced on taking a
quantity of spirits or wine, except it is
delayed from one to two hours after the
bolus has been swallowed. At first it
produces very cheerful emotions of the
inind, it renders some persona exceed
ingly active, and is a stimulant to mus
cular exertion; thus, if a person affect
ed by it wishes to step ove r a straw or
a small stick, it impels him to take a
jump sufficient to dear a low hedge or
a trunk of a tree; it keeps those fond
of music perpetually singing, and, un
der its influence, a talkative person
can neither keep secrets nor silence,
hence it is a source of danger to ladies
and politicians.—Horticultural Times
Had to Play the Strine Oat.
A man seated himself in a chair in
an up-town barber-shop and ordered
one plain shave without tonic. “Look
here." he said, by way of amend
ment, “I’ve got an awfully tender face
and 1 want you to be very careful with
it.”
The barber promised solemnly to re
turn it to him as whole as he found it,
and then he proceeded to strap his
razor finely. He lathered his particu
lar customer carefully, took his ear in
his hand and with one swipe removed
beard, lather and cuticle from hair tc
chin. The patient howled wish pain
and sitting bolt upright in the chair he
eved the barber reproachfully.
“What in thunder are you trying to
do?” he demanded, angrily.
“You see my razor is too sharp,” apol
ogized the Cheaterfieldian barber. “It
is so sharp that when it takes bold it
will not let go and I am obliged to
play the string out.” — Minneapolis
Times. _
EDITING THE EDITOR.
How tbe Advance of Napoleon Made All
the Difference In the World.
In March, 1815, the Paris Moniteur
announced the expected return of Em
peror Napoleon from Elba. The first
announcement of the Moniteur was far
from being polite, but as the little Cor
sican approached Paris a gradual
change took place in its tone:
“The cannibal has left his den."
“The Corsican wolf has landed in the
bay of San Juan.”
“The tiger has arrived at Gay.”
“The wretch spent the night at
Grenoble.”
“The tyrant has arrived at Lyons."
“The usurper has been seen within
fifty miles of Paris ”
“Bonaparte is advancing with great
rapidity, but he will not put his foot
inside the walls of Paris.”
“To-morrow Napoleon will be at our
gates.”
“The emperor has arrive^ at Fon^
tainebleuu.”
“’'is imperial majesty Nap
tered Paris yesterday,
his loyal subjects.”