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By V. HEIMBURG. CHAPTER 11. That afternoon Leo Jussnitz had reached the station just in time to jump into the first compartment he came to. The whistle of the train mastep had already sounded the sig nal f or starting, and the conductor pulled open a dor and thrust him in. He had a first-class season ticket, but he found himself in a third-class carriage, and alone with a lady. At first he paid no attention to her; the air was horribly close and he went to the window to open it. 15ut first he turned and, lifting his hat, said; “Will you allow me. Fraulein?” The head, covered with a broad brimmed felt hat, was raised a little. “Oh, certainly,” was the reply, in a clear voice. Leo Jussnitz cast a hasty glance at the face beneath the shady hat, and saw two dark, almost unnaturally large eyes. The window was open half way, and he sat down opposite her and looked at her. He saw a small mouth, bright red lips, and a del icately formed chin. The short nose and the two glowing eyes were shaded by the Rembrandt hat. Where, for Heaven’s sake, had he seen th 1 " 1 face before? Her eyes fell beneath hfs gaze; the dark lashes which now rested on the pale cheek were wonderfully long. He felt sure he had seen this all before; and suddenly there came be fore h':v. the picture of his father’s garden ! the little city of the Mark, and a f.M's face with great dark eyes was looking over the white-thorn hedge which separated their neigh bor's garden from their own, and these eyes smiled at him and fascinated him, the gymnasiast of eighteen, till he found himself stand ing by the hedge with two slender hands clasped In his which stood out like snow against, the dark green of the leaves. And the moon shone down upon them, and over in the castle park across the brook the nightingales wore singing as he kissed the rosy lips. But this could not be she, for six teen years had passed since that period of his first love; and this young creature before him was per haps twenty years old. He looked at her again, and the memory of that time became so vivid that he felt quite bewildered. “Tony von Zweidorf!” he said, half aloud. A light laugh was the reply. "You know me. then?” Inquired the girl. “But I am not Tony—ah, my dear Tony!—l am the youngest, Hilda.” “Hlldegarde von Zweidorf —from Altwedel?” She nodded. “And you, sir?” He took off his hat and murmured his name. “You used to know Tony?” inquired the young girl, drawing tip her slender figure as comfortably as possible Into the hard corner of the wooden scat. “Yes, Fraulein Hilda.” “But, then, you must have seen me too!” “You were a child then. Fraulein | von Zweidorf, and will not be likely j to remember the tall gymnasiast who used to go to dancing-school with Fraulein Tony.” “No, 1 do not. Have you been long away from Altwedel?’’ “Very long. My father was sent from there to Silesia, and t . Are you still living in the little house on the ‘Alta’?” “Yes. It Is such a queer little old house.” “Ah, I used to think it was delight ful; we lived close by.” “There is a factory there now, an ugly retf-brick building, with tall chimneys and a lot of factory girls, and a shrill bell which calls them to work.’’ "What a pity! And how are your parents?” "Oh, thank you. papa is sometimes very poorly and he !s always cross, and mamma”—she shrugged her shoulders—"of course suffers from it. It is always like that with us. sir.” “And Fraulein Tony? Is she as fond of dancing as ever?” "Oh, Tony dance! Tony has grown very quiet and sad. Besides, it is always dull and stupid at our house," she replied with a sigh. Ho made no answer: he looked at his opposite neighbor with a com passionate glance. What a picture of discomfort her words called up be fore him! He knew every nook and corner of the little house that the family oc cupied, and he knew that in every corner were the traces of poverty, privation, and discontent. T,he tax collector, Von Zweldorf, formerly an office, had become acquainted with his wife, the little Mademoiselle Bergere, at a comrade’s house; she came from French Switzerland, and tilled the position of a bonne. Of coure<, he had not been in earnest at first in his pursuit of the beautiful girl, hut the time came when as a man of honor he could not refuse to marry her. The commander of the regiment and his comrades had moved heaven and earth in trying to dissuade him from taking this step, but he was not to be turned from his resolve, and the hand that wrote his resignation did not tremble. He never told any one how hard it had been for him, but his troubled face, his crushed air, his shrinking shyness spoke loudly for him, and his wife suffered no less. His eldest daugh ter, Tony, a beautiful child, had at first brought some consolation to the heart of the unhappy man, but then other children had come, ali girls, miserable girls; and his cares grew' day by day, and his daughters bloom ed unseen and unsought and were embittered by their wretched life. They had their father’s pride, too — they would not marry beneath them, the poor Fraulein von Zweidorf. LC l Jussnitz was perfectly well aw; of all this. And the youngest daughter was sitting before him, as lovely as her sister had been, gazing out toward the future with the same wistful eyes, and the same smile rested on the lovely little mouth. A beautiful vision of something he had not thought of for a long time rose before him—all the blissfulness of his early youth, with Its high hopes and its foolish raptures of a first love. “What are you going to do out In the wide world. Tony?” He said it aloud, and was only re called to himself by her hearty laugh. "My name Is Hlldegarde, and I am going to my aunt who lives in Dres den. I want to be”—she drew herself up proudly—“to be a painter.” “A painter?” he inquired, with a smile. "Don’t do it, Fraulein Hilda; it only brings disappointment and bitterness." “But I have talent, sir.” “I do not doubt it for a moment, but still—” “But you cannot know what my future will be!” she pouted. “No, lam only judging from my own experience. When a man struggles for the rewards of destiny and almost succumbs, how can a weak, delicate girl hope to maintain herself? And the life of an artist is and always must be a thorny path.” “Ah,” she laughed, “I will not let you frighten me, and lam not going to boast; but really, sir, I am very lucky. I must have been born under a lucky star. Just listen and see what will happen. I shall get a teacher, a good one, and then I shall be as In dustrious as I can, and then I shall get my first Commission, perhaps half out of compassion, and then I shall do my very best—the picture Is success ful, It makes a sensation, and some fine morning I wake up and fine my stdf famous! No, no.” she continued, “I will not hear anything. I shall believe in my luck. I have heard croaklngs enough at home. I cannot do as my sisters have done, for I am different myself. Please, please,” she concluded appealingly, clasping her beautifully shaped hands, from which she had drawn off the gloves, “do not say anything, do not rob me of my trust in a brighter future than that I have so far had daily marked out for me.” Her pale face had flushed and her eyes sparkled with a wonderful Are. “No,” he replied, quite carrii and away by her enthusiasm, “no, I will not! May you he as successful In every thing as you hope, and If I can be of use. to you in any way—l am an artist myself and well known In artistic circles—you may count on mo.” “There, didn't 1 tell you so?” she cried. “If that isn't luck! This very morning I was wondering how l should ever manage to penetrate to the studio of some celebrated artist — and hero I find an old acquaintance of Tony’s, and the doors fly open to me." “It is to be hoped you will bo. satisfied with a lesser celebrity.” "You are an artist. Then you must bo that Jussnitz who painted the 'Witch of the Brocken’! 1 saw the picture in an illustrated journal— didn’t 1? And In the original the witch had red hair, the most wonder ful effect of color, the description said. Was that really you ?” And she gazed at hint with wide, astonished eyes. "Yes. It was I,” he said, In a low tone, returning her gaze. They were silent for a while after this. “What beauty,” he thought, “what grace!” as he studied every line of the blushing girlish face. The trnln slowed up, and the whistle of the locomotive indicated that they were approaching their destination. "Where does your aunt live?” he in quired hastily. > X Strasse, In the Friedrlch stadt. Is it far from here?" She was standing up. and, with her slender figure drawn to Its full height, she was taking a handbag down from the rack overhead. “Yes. a long way." he replied. “Oh. what a pity!" she said. He took the hag from her hand. "Will any one come to meet you?" “No. Auntie does not expect me till tomorrow, but I had no peace at home, ami I didn't want to hear any more sighs and croakings. So I started off by myself this morning, without telling any one. and without saying good-by. I hate to say good by.” Ho smiled. “Give me your bag. I will carry it to the droschky for you.” “Thank you, but 1 am going to walk. I shall hire a porter.” “It is impossible, Fraulein von Zweidorf. You must have a carriage. I have something to do in the Fried richstadt, too. Permit me to offer you a seat in my carriage—I ” "No, thank you,” she said coldly, with the air of a princess. “I entreat you to accept it,” he urged, with genuine anxiety. “You have no idea how far it is; you really cannot wander about alone In Dresden in the night. Just consider: I am an old acquaintance of your family and I have a right to help you with my advice and assistance.” She gave a careless laugh. “Yes, to be sure, we are neighbors, even though I really know nothing about vou. But I will ask Tony to tell me all she knows. Well, then—if you will take me with you!" Jussnitz called a droschky, and they drove away together. He sat quite silent at Hilda’s side, while a curious feeling came over him in the presence of this stranger whom he yet seemed to know so well—she recalled the past so vividly to him. What a Philistine these passing years had made of him—especially these last few! That time of youth ful gayety, of enthusiasm, of ambition, and of mad pranks came back to him with an alluring charm. Tony von Zweidorf! There was a sort of violet fragrance about the memory of bis first love, and the gentle mood ot that springtime of his life came over him with renewed force at this moment. His companion was charmed with the river Elbe, with the many lights that were reflected in the dark water, with all the life and movement of the great city. She had a hundred ques tions to ask to which he had to find answers. When at length the streets grew quieter and the lights farther apart, she said in a disappointed tone: “I am afraid my aunt lives quite out of the world.” At this moment the eai.'age stopped at a small house of only two stories, which looked like a dwarf among the large buildings four and five stories higu. There was a shop on the ground floor, which on a nearer view proved to be a grocer’s, where vegetables, eggs, butter, cheese, and pickles were to be had and from which a by no means delightful odor streamed out when Jussnitz opened the door to in quire if Frau Secretary Berger lived in this house. An enormously stout woman, who came out of a door so small that it was hard to comprehend how she had contrived to squeeze through, wiped her hands on her apron, and said: “You are the niece of Frau Berger, f suppose? Eh, but lam sorry; she is out to a tea-party, and I don’t know no more than a baby where it is she’s gone to.” N Hilda von Zweidorf laughed gayly. “What am I to do till she comes back?” she cried. “Does my aunt generally get home very late?” “Generally about eleven, Fraulein. You can stay here with me if you like. Or just you wait a minute; sometimes Frau Berger pu‘/j the key under the mat before the door. I’ll just slip up and see.” The benevolent giantess disappear ed, and they could hear fne stairs creaking beneath her weight as she toiled np and then after a while came down again. “I’m awful sorry, it ain't there; but if you want to wait herewith me ” "Perhaps you will look after the Frauleln’s trunk,” Jussnitz interrupt ed, an uncomfortable expression on his face. "And in the meantime you had better come with me, Fraulein von Zweidorf. You will want some thing to eat, at any rate, and a walk through the streets will be much better than waiting here in this horrible place.” This last he said in French, and she replied in the same language, with a faultless pronunciation: "To be sure! The beginning of my future does not seem to be very bril liant, does it? This is my first disap pointment. Auntie wrote about her pleasant house in the suburbs, and I pictured to myself an avenue of old trees and a garden in front. Oh, real ity, how hateful thou art!” She took the arm which he offered her. and walked away with him through the streets. For one moment he thought of going to some fashionable restaurant, but then he turned toward a modest little place in the Friedrichstadt; it was quite empty. They sat down opposite each other at the neat little table, and at length were able to see each other distinctly in the bright gas-light. Hilda’s beauty lost nothing as she took off her hat and displayed her beautiful forehead. It was evident she was enjoying the situation. To be continued. THAT BOTHERSOME BABY. If we did not have thee, baby, Lite would be a barren plain With horizon never broken. With no blest surcease of pain. if we did not have thee, baby, What hi Joy could life afford? What could wealth or fame bring to us While our eyes with tears were blurred ? If we did not have thee,l>aby Precious darling, hcavm-sent— If wo did not have thee, bc.by, What a nice house we could rent! —lndianapolis News. You can generaly count on the wo man that babies “go to” and animals are not afraid of. A DANGEROUS ACCOMPLISHMENT There dwells near me a little kid That’s learnin’ how to talk He tries to do as he is bid An’ does his best to walk. An’ if I thought that he’d receive Advice, I’d give him some, And that would be to make believe That he was deaf and dumb. I’d tell him to quit practicing His “ah goo’ by the hour; To smile an’ never do a thing But blossom like a flower. I’d show to him how often men Go siidin’ down luck’s hill By simply 3ayin’ somthing when They ought to have kep’ still. It’s kind o’ hard, when you have tried To steer aright your bark To see your fragile hopes collide Agin some fool remark. If I was him I’d change this bent, Nor'try to rise above My present state, but be content To live, an’ laugh, an’ love. —Washington Star. TO A DOG POISONER, When Ronnie, a terrier owned by Rev. Dr. A. A. Murphy, pastor of the Second Presbyterian church, New Brunswick, N. J., was some time ago prisoned by a unknown person, the pastor, who is a bachelor, wrote the following open letter to the poisoner: “To the Man Who Poisoned My Dog:—Whoever you are I do not know, neither do I care to know, for I fear that I should despise you more than Christianity admits. That little dog never harmed you or any other creature, human or brute. Had you come hero he would have greeted you warmly. Why did you do it? Be sides, if it had to be done, why not use chloroform? Why use that ter rible poison that gave him two hours of agony before he passed away, but which he bore like the little hero that he was? If there be a dog’s heaven — and who shall say that there is not — the brave, honest, affectionate little fellow is there, for he was just as good as it is possible for a brute to be; while you are still on earth. “Repent, sir, for as sure as the God who created men and dogs is right eous, shall He hold you responsible, for such an unwarrantable, cruel, evil deed. I say this without any idea of vengeance, for I have nothing but pity for such as you. No more shall he accompany me in my rambles, nor when left at home run to meet me with an ecstasy of delight on my re turn! Yet, much as I shall miss my little friend, and he did comfort mo in my loneliness, I rather be the subject of his loss with the last lick of his tongue on my hand and the glance of his dying but loving eye in my memory than be you, with the consciousness of your bad, black deed in your heart. In memory of Ronnie.” Died, 163 College Avenue, May 28, 1901. O’LEARY’S MUSICAL CAREER. He Bought a Music Box Drawn by a Former Fire Horse. Patrick O’Leary owned a street piano for 15 minutes, and he crowded more experience and excitement into that short space than falls to the lot of the average man in a lifetime. O’Leary has spent most of the last 10 years in a ditch with pick and shovel. The Italian with a street piano, drawn by a horse, often passed his way and the indolent life of the street musician possessed a strong fascination for them. Monday night the Irishman came upon tha Italian at Seventh and Jeffer son streets. He arrived just as the last notes of The Wearing of the Green wre sounded and it seemed vo him that people fairly fell over one another to contribute pennies and nickles to the musician. “Easy money, easy money,” said to himself. “I’ll buy the music box, and no more ditches for me.” He did, but it was only after a long 11 Lrv, a MML J/j m jl, i BLASTED HOPES. Tommy Tuff—“Say, Mam, the boys all say that if I handle the stick in the baseball game this afternoon we’ll beat the Bog Hollows fourteen to one.” His Mother—‘‘l don’t doubt it, but you are going to jtay at home this afternoon and handle the stick with me, and we’ll beat the carpet worse than that.” and painful struggle. The Italian hadn't been in the United States long and Pat experienced considerable difficulty in making himself under stood. When, the negotiations were closed the Irishman disappeared. He returned in a few minutes and handed the Italian S2OO, the purchase price. The new owner mounted the boy, clucked to the horse and drove half a square. Then he thought he w r ould try his luck. He got down, grasped the handle of the crank and began to turn. The result was a medley. Soon a large crowd gathered and Pat was greeted with an intemingling of hisses, jeers and cheers. It finally dawned upon him that he knew so little about music that he couldn’t even keep street piano time. After consulting the printed pro gram the Irishman announced that the tune was There’ll Bea Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight. Just then an alarm of fire was sounded at the engine house across the street. Pat noticed that his horse was restless and appeared impatient to start. He jumped upon the box. As he did so a fire engine dashed out and started up Jefferson street. Pat’s new charge was after it in an instant. The Irishman’s cries were in vain, the horse would not stop. Passers-by stopped and looked upon the strange race. The piano swayed from side to side; sometimes in the street car tracks, the next minute in the gutter. When the fire engine reached Fourth avenue the driver heard the out whistle and he drew his horses to a walk. Pat’s stopped suddenly and the ditch digger returned to his old business. When he gathered himself up he mournfully turned the beast s head, climbed upon the box and started down the street. At Sixth he met the Italian. There was another confer ence and at its conclusion O’Leary received SIOO and the Italian was again the owner of the street piano. And the Italian never explained that his horse was trained for the fire service and ran at every alarm. —Louisville Couier-Journal. USEFUL TO KNOW. Ammonia cleans hair brushes; dry them, bristles down. The smoke of a common wood fire has been recommended as an econom ical and efficacious disinfectant for sick rooms or other contaminated places. A piece of brown paper one-eighth inch wide pasted round the edges of negatives prevents scratching when they are packed away in cases. Wood pulp is said to make an ex cellent water dressing for wound3, for the reason that it absorbs a large quantity and holds it well, evaporation being slow. It also retains heat well, to that it Is serviceable for both cold and hot pouiuees. Old newspapers are sometimes used to advantage between the layers of tar-paper on the roof of a house. They keep out the heat in the sum mer, and In winter keep it in. The following metal polish Is recom mended by the Centraizeitung fur Optik und Mechanik: Heat Bto 9 parts of stearine, 32 to 38 parts of mutton grease, 2 to parts of stearine oil, until liquid; add 48 to 60 quarts of finely powdered Vinea lime, and let cool, with stirring. This polish should be kept In well-closed cans. To make an ink for writing on glass dissolve 20 parts of shellac in 150 parts of alcohol and 35 parts of borax in 250 parts of water. Then pour the first solution slowly into the last one and add a water-soluble dye Of the color and in sufficient quantity to produce the tint desired. A spot remover that is said to be of extraordinary value as a grease eradicator is made of 89 parts ben zine, 10 parts acetic ether and 1 part pear oil. Use of Cocaine Increasing. “The use of cocaine has become so general in Kansas City,” says the Kan sas City Journal, “that the police have begun to look upon its unrestricted sale with alarm, and stringent meas ures wiy soon be taken to restrain and supervise the sale of the seductive and terrible drug. The effect of cocaine on the system seems to be worse than those brought on by intoxio liquors. In addition to this the L f say that it seems to destroy the sense. Probably half of the iiV'rv of the local jail are users of it.LU said of the negroes who frequei. clubs and other meeting places / during the past several years qj. jority of them have drinking alcoholic stimulan gotten into +he cocaine ha" rule the drug is 'snuffed.’ I day the sales are large, bft the most Is sold. Men, wo fclOW children buy it. By those net with the north end of the city, tlfl tonishingly large traffic in this drug cannot be comprehended. Most of the frequenters of wine rooms are cocaine ‘fiends.’ The touts, crooks, alley rats and the idle and vicious in general use it in large quantities. It is a strange sight to see the procession ri buyers of the drug file into thetd’.ng stores at night. Many lay down their last nickel for the little wafer ” GLEANINGS AND GOSSIP. The salary of the young Icing of Spain is $750,000 a year. Eight Colorado women are serving as town and city treasurers. A Kansas poultry association figures it out that Kansas ships abroad 28,- 000,000 eggs every year. Mrs. Harrison has given a portrait of her husband, ex-President Harri son, to the Harrison school of Indian apolis. The Roman Catholic bishops of Canada are said to be opposed to the order giving the papal delegate in the United States jurisdiction over '* the church in Canada. “I sent a postage stamp for a pam phlet which was to tell me how to succeed.” “What did it say?” “It said, ‘Make better use of your postage stamps.” ’ —Chicago Record-Herald. The value of boots and shoes im ported into the Philippines during 1900 was $160,309. The value of the imports by countries shows that the United States only figured to the amount of $7.8 . The two largest importers were Spain, $74,183; Ger many, $50,241. In no part of the world does the business of growing chestnuts receive so much attention and involve the out lay of so much capital as in France. These delicious and popular nuts are shipped from France to all other countries, the United States receiving a goodly share. David Glasgow of South Bend, Ind., a Grand Trunk flagman, died in trying to rescue a farmer and his team from collision with a passenger train. He ran to stop the team, but the farmer lashed him with his whip and in springing back to escape the whip was struck by a passing engine. A dispatch from Alliance, 0., statf that a messenger boy for the Post,, telegraph company in that city invented an apparatus which cart e . attached to a telegraph key and L. act as a caller. It works automatically J and when placed against the instruT ment will call another office, signing the call regularly. Charles Blanchard of Logansport, Ind., the man who read the first proofs of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” has been declared insane. Blanchard was ill last winter and his life was de spaired of for months. His recovery was looked forward to during the last few weeks, but a few days ago his condition changed and he became vio lently insane. The Japanese government proposes in future to construct its own battle ships and to manufacture its Own ar mor plates. This decision is rather disconcerting to the big shipbuilding firms of Great Britain and the armor plate manufacturers of Sheffield, since some of the largest and most recent additions to the Japanese fleet have come from the English yards. Passengers to Newfoundland by the Allan liner Siberian dropped a bottle overboard on September 9, 1900, when a day out from Newfoundland. Th£ bottle was picked up on February 26 at the north side of the island of Tiree, Argyleshire, and it was dis patched to St. Johns, in accordance with a request contained in a message inside the bottle. The bottle was floating on the waves about 1 days, and so must have traveled in the Gulf stream almost in a direct line about 10 miles a day.—London Mail. A member of the Bth infantry, writ ing from Calamba, Luzon, of the cap ture of a mountain village and the search for arms, says: “I found a roll of paper wrapped and tied. On seeing me unfold it the na tive woman made frantic gestures up anil down her front, which attracted, the attention of the Macabebe, who also came to see the result of the in vestigation. Carefully unrolling wha/’*' I supposed to be a valuable find,\ spread out nothing less than a Butter- 4 ick dress pattern, with lines running up and down and every which way' v across the paper. The absurdity of a dress pattern in the hands of a Fili pino woman brought from me a laugh which caused the Maecabebe .o fur- ' ther examine it After gazing intent ly at it for a moment he enlightened me with the fact that this was an im portant discovery, as it was an insur gent map of the island of Luzon." WHAT ONE WOMAN THINKS. Just Imagine what men would look like if there were nr> razors! To have the love of a good mothej/ is to be shielded by unseen wings. \ About the only wny left for a mai to distinguish himself In his socks is to have little bells hung to them. One of the main differences be tween husband and wife is that the woman provides for the Inner man, the man for the outer woman. The persistent morning fly is worth half a dozen alarm clocks.