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"you'll Find Out—Later On He gave l no consolation when the sun was blazin' down' An' the lilies longed for lightnln' an' for rain enough to drown! "The friendly winter's gone; Fire burns the dark an' dawn,' But it ain't so hot, my brother, as you'll find out—later on! "The sky is like an' oven lid—red hot, an' heatin' still; The sighin' valleys simmer an' the flames sweep plain an' hill; Cool comfort's far withdrawn, The Are burns dark an' dawn. But it ain't so hot. my brother, as you'll find out—later on!'l That was his cry foreveÄn this blisterin' world below, An' we shouted "Halleluja!" when his time came 'round to go; An' we said: "From dark to dawn Sure the fire prophet's gone! It's hotter where he landed—oh, he found out—later on!" —Atlanta Constitution. m cm u (Copyright, 1905, by Daily Story Pub. Co.) Idly glancing at a glittering display of diamonds and jewelry,—unredeemed pledges—exhibited for sale in the window of a big pawnbroker's store, I noticed that a ragged and seemingly starving man stood beside me, regard ing the gems with a wolfish glare. There was something so uncanny in the fellow's appearance that instinc tively I moved away, then stopped at a little distance to look back at him. As he stood, gloatitig with fascinated gaze upon the almost priceless gems actually within his reach, but for the fragile barrier afforded by a sheet of plate glass, I was astonished to see tears spring from his bleary eyes and slowly course down his sunken cheeks. For a few moments, while I watch ed, his bosom heaved and fell, as if swayed by some powerful emotion and Bis long, lean, shaking flingers clutch ed the air convulsively. A terrible struggle with Satan was in progress before my eyes, and ere I could in tervene the tempter had conquered. With a loud and seemingly idiotic cry which sounded like, "Lulu, my Lulu!" the man raised his clenched fists above his head and dashed them through the window glass. Then he fell forward across the trays whereon were, many thousands of dollars' worth ■of diamonds. In ah instant the wildest commotion Arose. A vast, surging crowd sur rounded the reckless wretch, who made no effort to escape, but still lay amidst enormous riches, with blood streaming from his lacerated Ibands and smearing his besotted face, «obbing violently and muttering, "Lulu, my little Lulu!" 'Two big policemen roughly pushed fhelr way through the crowd. They seized the thief and hauled him back past the jagged edges of the thick plate glass with both hands clutching at the region of his heart, beneath his shabby vest. He fell to the sidewalk and lay motionless on his back. It was then that we saw that the glass had cut a huge gash in the man's neck, from which blood was rushing tn a torrent. The crowd pressed forward more eagerly. More policemen arrived and fought them back. Some one sum moned an ambulance. Meanwhile the dying man delirious ly murmured: "It's mine. It's mine. You shall pay but tain still to a his non \ iS 5 - ft "Lulu, my Lqlu!" mot take it from me. My Lulu! My aittle darling Lulu!" /After giving my name and address as a witness of the daring theft, and previous to following on to the hospl Ttal, 1 Interviewed the pawnbroker, in xny capacity as a reporter for a morn fag newspaper. The excited money lender had carefully examined his stock and found that there was noth ing of value missing. Nothing but a paltry, old-fashioned cameo brooch, fashioned to hold a photograph at the $ack. en or is i I ' 'It is Of little consequence, any way," he said, "but who is going to pay for my broken glar.s?" I did not stay to argue that question but hurried off to the hospital to ascer tain the state of the man whom I thought was surely a maniac. He was still alive, and l was admitted to his bedside. "We found absolutely nothing on him to establish his identity," said the house surgeon, "except an old cameo brooch containing the photograph of a little child. He had it hidden next his heart. The police would have tak \'V My and in his a the It was a great story. en it from him. but he struggled so violently to retain it that I made them desist. It is only a matter of an hour or two. They can have it when he is dead." Upon his bed, pale as the sheets the patient rested peacefully, but he had lost so much blood that recôvery was impossible. Both hands lay upon his heart, that heart which had been drained of its life fluid through the gashed arteries of his neck. Under his hands lay the picture brooch, the possession of which was to cost him his life. In pursuance of my duty I asked him his name. He smiled feebly and i said: I "My name? Ha! What matter? ' Go and ask her; my wife. She has a press agent now, I'm told. Pays a man to lie for her; and she was al ways pretty good at that herself. Ask her; I don't want notoriety. She loved it." Here was surely a big story, and l determined to have it, even although it was my day off and I had seats for a fashionable musical comedy that evening. With hateful professional skill I drew the whole story, names and all, from him before he died. Years before his pretty young wife had cruelly left him—deserted him and their little daughter. Lulu, for the glamor of a life which had the singe for its excuse. When she went away she took with her the only portrait of little Lulu ever made. She had worn it in an inexpensive brooch before; dia monds dazzled her fickle fancy. The baby Lulu died, and the father was left with nothing but feeble mem ory to recall the face of the kittle child he had loved so well. The erring wife became the pet of the ignorant public. The heartbroken husband took to drinking. In a be fuddled state, passing the pawnbrok er's window, ho saw the face of his dead child set around with diamonds and unredeemed pledges, false as the mother's life had been. Ho thought It his right—hts duty to rescue her. He never dreamed of theft. "She is mine! My little Lulu, he cried. And for that he died He died that same night. When he was dead the police claim ed the brooch with the photograph of little Lulu, and it was returned to the pawnbroker, whose property it un doubtedly was. But when the man a was buried the picture of his child lay on his heart. It was a cheap ar fair. The pawnbroker admitted it. I had a good week and ten dollars did not hurt me much. It was a great story. I had it ex-|» clusively. But it wafe never printed. Even now—if the names were printed —, but they never will be. I did not go to the theater that night. I gave the seats away. My friends told me that the prima donna was great—ravishing, bewitch ing—at her best. She received unlim Ued encores and applause. BUTTONS THIS MAN'S HOBBY. Milwaukee Millionaire Is Proud of His Collection. "A collection of buttonholes was the pride of a certain queen in one of Stockton's fairy tales," said a Milwau kee millionaire. "I collect, the next thing to buttonholes—namely: but tons. And I can tell you when buttons and buttonholes first came into use, who invented them, how they spread gradually over the world, together with many other things of interest." ' The millionaire's glass cases con tained many beautiful, many historical buttons. He turned to the case la beled "Chinese." "Here," he said, "are the buttons which the mandarins of China wear on their caps to indicate their rank. This silver button is the emblem of the mandarin of the ninth class—the lowest class. The plain gold button denotes the eighth class mandarin. The seventh class wears the gold but ton to the right, the one ornately carved. That beautiful button of jade belongs to the sixth class and the fifth wears a button of pure rock crystal. The fourth class mandarin's button is that one of dark purple crystal. The third class' is the sapphire. The sec ond's is coral red. "With each of the buttons an official bird goes. The bird is embroidered on the breast of the'official coat. The mandarin of the second class has for his bird the cock, the third class has the peacock, the fourth has the peli can, the fifth has the silver pheasant, the sixth has the stork, the seventh has the partridge, the eighth has the quail and the ninth has the sparrow." IN of of He of the un If a Dog Bites You. In all my experience with dogs have not only never seen a "mad dog" but have never seen a dog owner —and by that I mean a man who has had experience in keeping dogs—who has seen one. If, then, rabies is so exceedingly scarce hydrophobia be comes really an impossibility, and the fear of it should be dismissed with out a thought. A person may get dog bitten, but in the language of the New York tough, "Forget it." If it is a bad bite it may twitch later on and you may begin worrying so it is a good plan to get rid of the twitching or throbbing in order to forget. I have been bitten so often that I think no more of it than a mosquito bite, and this is what 1 do. If it is on the hand I put it under the faucet and wash thoroughly, with the object of cleaning the wound and pre venting inflammation from any dirt or foreign substance. While doing this some one is getting the bicarbonate of soda and some clean rags or lint. With water, a cream paste of the soda is made suf ficient to plaster the wound well, then putting some on a rag it is applied to the wound and bound up. If in the course of an hour or more the appli cation seems to be drying a little wa ter is poured on the bandage to soak through to the soda, or the hand dip ped in water.—Country Life in Amer ica. of Port ron the to tle and ing so in of a Great Lama's Wonderful Palace. "Without doubt one of the greatest buildings in the world is in the strange and remote part of the globe which is often alluded to as the 'Forbidden Land,' " said Thomas Dawson of Eng land to the Washington Post. This is the palace of the great lama, in Shosa, the capital of Tibet. This dig nitary's castle is 900 feet long and 437 feet in height. In stately grandeur and massiveness it is one of the most imposing structures, reared by man The building contains 3,000 rooms, many of them being of great size. It is painted white, except a central por tion near the top, which includes the apartments of the chief inmate. It is reported on good authority that the roofs are covered with plates of solid gold that present a dazzling effulgence under the rays of the sun. Except for Its vast ness, however, there is noth ing about the palace of any special in terest, except the private apartments of the grand lama. Work for Landscape Gardner Frederick Law Olmstead of New York has been invited by the Yale corporation to become the landscape architect for the extensive Hillhouse property, which on August 1 will pass to the corporation and which will be developed as a park and botanical gar den in connection with the Yale for est school. Fell Hard. Her voice fell to a whisper. In after years she used to point to this circumstance as explaining why it was so badlx cracked. IN A NAVAL BATTLE HOW RUSSIAN WARSHIP FARED AT PORT ARTHUR. Deadly Accuracy of Japanese Gunners Left vessel a Wreck in Few Min utes—Sailors See Their Comrade» Slaughtered on All Sides. a to Here is a fragment of a description of the äea battle last summer near Port Arthur, when the Russian squad ron attempted to break out from the beleaguered port and escape into the open: "In a moment the bridge re sounded with the strident voice of the admiral. The lethargy vanished. Even before the signal flag had left the yeo man's hand the squadron had passed the bugle call along. To fight now was imperative. It had already begun; the rattle of the Novik's quick-firers rolled across the summer sea; she was en gaging the more enterprising of Togo's scouts. Back the little boats steamed to shelter under the guns of the bat tle squadron. The Russians would fight—the battle flags were bent. The great ship quivered and then quivered again. It was only the twelve-inch guns, but they made the conning tower rock. The Japanese had maneuvered and were now standing in on the star board beam. The Russian admiral changed his course. Great projectiles were ricochetting overhead and rais ing geysers of salt spray all around them. But for the present the flagship could answer shot for shot. The ad miral clinched the handrail. His face was still pale, but the fighting light was in his eyes. 'Make the fleet sig nal, "Close up—follow me!"' "At the same moment there was a deafening crash and the vessel swung so that every one in the conning tower was thrown against the walls. 'What was that—mine?' The dread of mine and torpedo by this time' was ingrained in every Russian sailor, and as the flag lieutenant sprang down the ladder the horrible nightmare of the Petro pavlovsk leaped before his mental vision. , A deck officer came hurrying forward. He reported that a large shell had hit the after thirteen-inch turret, glanced and in bursting wrecked the top above. 'Awful! Poor fellows! Flesh came down with the splinters on the deck like confetti in a carnival.' "Then the vessel staggered from two terrific blows forward. The flag lieu tenant stumbled ahead, drawing his; hands mechanically to his ears, while the torn fragments of iron and splim ter soughed past him. Biting, sting ing smoke blinded him, while the force of the concussion flattened him against a ventilator. The first sight that he saw was the mangled frame of his comrade. The top of the poor wretch's head was gone, a half-burned cigarette was still between the clinched teeth.' He threw his glance upward—the for ward smokestack was rent from top to bottom and the flame and smoke were licking round the base. The twelve-inch guns in the forward bat tery solemnly fired and the ear-split ting crack of the discharge brought the youth to his senses. He made for the ladder. Great God! The conning tower and forward bridge were but torn, smoking and twisted wreck. • A man jumped to the deck. His face was as black as an Ethiopian, his uniform and beard torn and discolored to a filthy yellow, his left arm, sev ered at the biceps, was dangling by a sinew. 'All are killed, admiral, all,' the figure gasped as it reeled and sunk fainting to the deck." A is is in It the is the for in pass be gar for to it The End of the Trail. \ 'Tween the old time and the new, t have sung heart-songs of you— Von, lean stranger to all fear, L'areless border cavalier. Mow, old pard. that you are gone. And the gray and cheerless dawn Of a dav. called Progress, comes, And the" throaty engine hums Down the trails where you and I Made our camps, and watched the sky Drop its crimson sunset bars To a bunch of mav'rick stars— Then. oh. then. I cry aloud Curses on the white-faced crowd; On the heights of stone and wood. Standing where our sign-camps stood; On the jangle of the street. And each pale, worn face 1 meet. On the covote ways of men— Sharp of fang beyond our ken— Snapping o'er each other's bones. For a pile of vellow stones. Did we seek for gold or fame? No. we played a careless game; And on plunging ponies we Shouti d back in mocking glee When in town the blue gun spoke Thro' a smiling wreath of smoke. Thus I dream and long and fret, For mv heart will not forget— Not forget those old. red days Of the trail—Its careless ways; Not forget—you know the sign— Answer me. oh. pard of mine. —Hobert V. Car r. Figuring Out 100 Sons-in-Law. A few years aygo, in the town of Lit tleton, N. H„ liVed a man named Ben Fiske, who was the typical New Eng lander. One day a visitor at his house asked him if he had a large family "No," he replied, "I have only three girls, but I have 100 sonsialaw "How is that?" asked the stranger, astonished. "Well, stranger, it Is this way. My oldest girl married a pretty good sort of a man. He counts one. The other two girls married good for nothing men. They are nothing but ciphers. \s 1 and two ciphers make 100, you've got it." NAMES BEST DOCTOR ME. BAYSSON PUBLISHES EESÏÏLTS OF VALUABLE EXPEBIENOE. A Former Pronounced Dyspeptic lie Xow Bejolces In Perfect Freedom from Miseries of Indigestion. Thousands of sufferers know that the reason why they are irritable and de pressed and nervous and sleepless is be cause their food does not digest, bnt how to get rid of the difficulty is the puzzling question. ; Good digestion call,s for strong diges tive organs, and strength conies from a supply of good rich blood. For this reason Mr. Baysson took Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for the core of indigestion. " They have-been my best doctor," ho says. •* I was suffering from dyspepsia. The pains' in my stomach after meals were almost unbearable. My sleep was very irregular and my complexion wao sallow. As the result of using eight boxes of Dr. Williams* Pink Pills, about the merits of which I learned from friends in France, I have escaped all these troubles, and am able again, to take pleasure in eating." A very simple story, bnt if it had not been for Dr.. Williams' Pink Pills it might have been a tragic one. When dis comfort begins with eating, fills up the intervals between meals with pain, and prevents sleep at night, there Gertainly cannot he much pleasure in living. A final general breaking down, must be merely a question of time. Mr. Joseph Baysson is : w native of Aix-les-Bains,, France,, but now resides at No. 2439 Larkin street^,San Francisco,. Cal. He is one of a great number who can testify to the-remarkable efficacy of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills in the treatment of obstinate disorders of the stomach;. If you would get rid of nausea, pain or burning in the- stomach-,, vertigo, ner vousness, insomnia, or any of the otlior miseries of a dyspeptic, get rid of the weakness of the digestive organs by the use of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. They are sold by druggists everywhere. Proper diet is, of course; a'great aid'in forwarding recoveryonce begun, and a little book, ''Whatrto> Eair and; How to Eat," may be obtained by any one who; makes a request for it hy r writing to the Dr. Williams Medical!Co;, Schenectady N.Y. This valuable-dietr book contains an important chapter on the simplest means for the cure.of constipation.. ^ Eoudoir Counsel. Coined as a political phrase; "bou doir counsel" is too; good to be lost. We have long wanted 4t' to describe those little airy, wise things which women utter among themselves; those pronouncements upon the affairs- of the world spoken over the rim of a teacup; the recommendations to great men which never reach their eara. "Boudoir counsel" surely is the- wis dom of butterflys in- session.—Lady's. Pictorial. A Smart Doq. A friend of mine was wont to walk across the park with her dog and to take a hansom home: The animal on several occasions went out alone for a walk, and,, finding himself at fault, was in the habit of jumping-into the nearest hansom, and getting him self conveyed home by the cabman, who, reading his address on- his. collar, scented a reward.:—Graphic. PATENTS. List of Patents Issued' Last Week ta Northwestern Inventors. Reported by I^othrop & Johnson, pat ent lawyers, 911 and' 912 Pioneer Press, building, St. Paul,.. Minn.: William. Daly, Walhalla, N.. D., farm- implement; John Erickson, St.. Paul, Minn., self feed for box trimming machines;- Hen ry J. Gille, St. Paul, Minn.,, electric dis play lamp; Charles Maples, Duluth, Minn., unloading mechanism; Mathies Schmidt, Austin, Minn., weed extern minutor; Nicholas Smith, Minneapolis, Minn., bung; Knudt Springen, Zum brota, Minn., insulator bracket for tel ephone poles, etc. Perhaps It Was Intuition. "I suppose," said the landlady scornfully, "you think you are smart to lock tip everything before you leave your room?" "I had not thought a thing about it," replied her lodger; "but now that you mention it, perhaps it was."—Houston Post. Unchanged Japanese. Because the Jan wears a white col lar while the Chinese sticks to his queue, it is no reason at all for sup posing there is any essential change In the Japanese character. There is not.—The Argonaut. He Old. "Colonel, did you ever meet the ene my single-handed and alone?" "Always, madam, always; I don't believe In permitting outsiders to mix in family row»."—Houston Post. Appropriately So Called. Tom—Why do you refer to her as your "old flame?" You're still calling on her, aren't you? j Dick—Yes, and I'm still burning money on her.—Philadelphia Press.