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A millionaire sat In his study «*••«* And figured with pencil nml pad: ****** The cold drops stood out on his forehead— **•*«» A scene that was touching and sad. m mmmm m lie chnrged up as loss a few Items, Itesult of u syndicate squeeze. Subtracted some big restitutions And loss of dlrectors-hlp fees. Then gently he broke to bis family The awful and terrible news— \s& They hnd to stop -smashing their auto. No longer a yacht could they use. They sobbed ns they realized ruin. The days of their riches were gone; lie only had left of his fortune —* The sum he had j»ald taxes upon. —— AFER THE SOUL WENT OUT BY EARL MARBLE (Copyright, 1906, by Daily Story Pub. Co.) Suddenly all was still. A ghastly whiteness settled over the thin, yearning face on the pillow, and peace took the place of pain. The end of a life of oonjugal mis matlng had come at last. "Can you not forgive me k’l the wrong you have suffered at my hands before you go?” he bad asked. She had remained silent, with averted eyes and a faint flush over spreading the wan features. The minister had joined the father and son at the bedside a short time before, and was watching the passage of his parishioner to the world be yond. “It is your duty, Mrs. Marshall.” he had said. "It Is a dreadful thing to go Into the other world with unfor glveness In your heart. It Is so easy to speak that now. and afterward so Impossible. The consequences to both of you are terrible.” He had said no more, but waited. They all waited. At laßt she spoke. “If you have ever wronged me. Henry," she said, "I forgive you, as I hope to be forgiven.” “If I have ever wrongod you,” be echoed. "I certainly have, and It Is so noble of you to say those words.” “But I have need to be forgiven also,” she bald said. "You will not refuse?” “There Is nothing to forgive, Mary,” he had said. "But if there were any thing for me to forgive in you, it is given freely. I am only sorry it is said now. at the close of our lives together, instead of at the beginning." The woman had caught her breath feebly,' and nil was over. The physician had entered from the adjoining room at that instant, and he gazed at her a moment. "It is all over,” he said. "The soul has left the body.” “Her soul left her body many years ago.” said the husband, bending over her and placing his face in his hands, between the fingers of which the tears slowly trickled. When the undertaker arrived he was led away gently, and the sad ar rangements were porceeded with. “What did they have to forgive each other for?" was the current form of gossip through the neighborhood. No one knew. Neither had ever mentioned it to any one in the circle in which they moved. In the funeral discourse the min ister talked very profoundly and feel ingly on the subject of forgiveness, but he floundered in his remarks be cause he did not know. "Father," said the young man, the evening of the day after they hnd re turned from the cemetery, "why did you and mother always treat each other so coldly?" "Because there was no love be tween us.” "But why. Was it always so?" "Always." "Won't you tell me why?" "Let's take a walk down the road and I will see if I can." "Certainly, father, but do not speak If it is anything against her." "It is nothing against her.” "I am so glad, because you know how dearly I loved her. and how I re vere her memory." "The trouble began from the very beginning of our married life—in fact, before our marriage.” They hnd walked till they reached the edge of a little wood by this time, the cool breeze from which came out with insistent refreshment lo their heated brows and faces flush ed from the tears which had coursed over them from their streaming eyes. "I had presumed to think that I might make your mother my wife, but They all waited. had little prospect of success. Sev eral other sought her hand. The only difference was, maybe, that I was the most persistent of the lot. A young man came into the neighborhood from Chicago. He was a summer boarder at a neighboring farm house. His name was Hubbard —Sidney Hubbard. He met your mother, and she fell in love with him at once. None of us bad any chnnce then. Practically, we all gave it up. But one evening, toward the close of the season. I was passing the house where he hoarded and was astonished to see him in earnest talk with a girl whom I had never seen before. They were stand ing at the open window, and he had an arm around her. I watched them a moment, and then turned to go away. I had gone toward the house of your mother’s family, with the In tention of tilling my story, when I met your mother and brought her at once to the place where I had stood. We heard him use endearing terms to her, saw him kiss her, and then heard him promise to go with her at once -1 took your mother home and left her almost completely prostrated. She “I had killed him.” did not say a word of what she had seen to any one. She was very proud and high spirited. The young man and young woman disappeared that night; and, as soon as your mother had recovered sufficiently, I renewed my suit, and she accepted me. on con dition Hhat I should take her away from the neighborhood. We did not wait to get married, but left at once, and were married at the first place where we stopped. "Your mother never returned to the old place,, her family having removed also a short time afterward. They had lived there but a short time and had no Intimates, so none of them ever beard from the neighborhood again. I went out there to settlo up some of my affairs, and heard that Hubbard nad been there, learned the story, and : inquired my address. A few weeks afterward, I went out during the late afternoon, for a walk, as we are doing now, and met him right here. He accused me of treachery to him. and said that the lady whom we had seen him In company with was his sister, who had come after him to aid her in untangling some property matter which required their immediate atten tion. He made some slighting remark to me. saying he was going to the house to see your mother, with whom he would have an explanation, wind ing up with the remark that I had de frauded him of her, and he would have her yet. One word led to another and finally he struck me. I returned the blow with interest, and he fell, striking that rock there," pointing to a large rock by the roadside, "after which he never stirred. ! had killed him. hut hnd not intended to do so. I dug a grave over there." pointing to a mound so slight as not to be notice i able, "and buried him.” "Did mother ever know?” “No, my boy.” “Did any one else?” "No.” "But that is why you and mother were always estranged from each : other?" “Yes.” "Oh. well, cheer up. father. It was not so bad —the killing, I mean. You did the only thing you could do. The estrangement was terrible. It might have been better If you had told mother.” "It would not —under the circum stances.” “Well, don't dwell on It now. We will go home now, and make the best of it, dear old father." "But I am not your father.” "You—are —not —my—father? Then who is?" "The man sleeping under that mound there." And the elderly man walked deliber ately into the dark wood, leaving the >ouneer one sitting on the rock where ills father had breathed his last. Not darkest Before Dawn. The Idea that the darkest hour is just before dawn is poetical but in correct. The darkest hour is mid way between sunset and dawn, and i the legend is of a piece with the | statement often made that the hour ' preceding dawn is the coldest. I In many countries there is a fixed belief that just before the break or day there comes an ebb when nature grows cold and pulseless and life flut tering in the breast of the dying man finally expires. According to science such dissolu tion should occur between three and four o'clock, investigation extending over a period of several years having . proved that the temperature Is lowest then. —Montreal ‘Herald. GAVE SAILOR COIN; GETS $8,000 Girl Will Cash Bond on Bank of Por tugal for That Amount. Eight thousand dollars’ reward for an off-hand kindness conferred fpur years ago on a destitute and partially .sick sailor in Uncle Sam's navy is :he Christmas present that pretty Anjile Josephine Saucier, a shop girl J.nd former mill hand of the city of Lewis ton, Mass., is to receive soon, says the Philadelphia Inquirer. The clay of fairyland wonders is not past, so the Lewiston girl thiaks, for to-day she is the practical posses sor of nearly SB,OOO that is to come to her on account of the simple giving of a 20-cent piece at Newport, R. 1.. to a strange man wearing the uniform of the United States navy. At the moment that she granted the strange request of the sailor he passed to her a small scriptlike piece of pa per, saying: "Keep this for your kind ness. Some day you will find that you have lost nothing by the favor you have done me.” Carried in her pocketbook and laid about her home among many of the most worthless trifles that easily have been thrown away, this scriptiike keepsake has now brought a fortune to this poor shop girl of I^ewlston. The piece of script that the young girl carried with dress samples, cards and small odds and ends that fill the pocketbooks or reticules of young ladies has proved to be a bond of the Bank of Portugal, calling for payment to the holder of $5,000 In the year 1306 w ith Interest at 5 per cent., compound ed annually, and as the note matures this month the sum total she will re ceive from the bank shortly will be very nearly SB,OOO. WERE IN TEMPORARY ECLIPSE. Neighborhood Depopulated After the Spelling Bee. I wanted to make inquiries about several different people in a certain neighborhood in lowa, and when I found a farmer leaning over his gate. I stopped my horse and asked him if he knew one Henry Smith. “Yes, sir. I've knowed him for ten years," he replied, "but I can't tell you where he is to-day.” "And do you know James Thomp son?” "Jim Thompson? Why, him and me are like brothers, but I can't say where you'd find him to-day.” "How about George Snyder?” “George Snyder? Why. I was tradin' hosses with him the other week, but I can’t say where he is to day.” I asked after four or five other men and received the same answers, each one ending that it wasn’t knowr where the man was just that day. "Why don't you know where they are to-day?" I finally asked. "Becase, sir—becase we had an old-fashioned spelling bee at the schoolhouse last night, with every body loaded for b’ar, and most every body for five miles around has had to take to the woods and won’t be cornin' out for three or four days yet!" —Baltimore American. For Editor's Benefit. "Mark Twain,” at the dinner In honor of his seventieth birthday, ad vised a young novelist not to shun judicious self-advertisement. "On one of my first visits to New York, ’ he said, "I was taken on a sight-seeing tour by a successful joke writer. I learned during this tour something about the way to succeed. "As we rode down Broadway on a car my friend suddenly looked up from the comic paper he was reading, gave a hearty laugh and then read aloud to me a joke. "'lsn't that great?’ he cried. “Oh, ha, ha, ha. ha! Isn't that the fun niest joke—ho, ho, ho!—you ever heard?' “Just then we rose to get off. When we reached the sidewalk 1 said to my friend: “ 'You showed me that joke before, you know. It is one of your own, isn’t it?' "He smiled at my puzzled face and answered: " ‘Yes. But you didn’t notice the man who sat opposite us, did you? He is the editor who buys most of my stufT and he doesn't know me person ally. See?”’ Maimed Birds Did Well. "Maimed birds show remarkable in tolligence in getting food for them selves.” said a naturalist. ••I once found in my garden a blue bird that a stone had wounded badly. The poor little creature could neither walk nor fly. I put it in a cucumber frame and fed it regularly, but I sup pose I didn’t give it enough, for it foraged industriously all the time. Lying on the earth, it would cover it self with leaves —only Its small eyes would be visible. Then, when a fly alighted somewhere near—swoop, the bluebird's head and neck would dart from the covering of leaves and the fly would be devoured. "A finch with a broken wing lived high all one summer in my garden at the expense of the spiders. It pillaged their webs. It made a round of some twenty webs a day and fattened on the contents of those filmy larders.” A New Theory. In an uptown school the teacher In one of the lower grades endeavored to instill a little information into her pupils on the subject of horses and their gaits, and then asked each of them to prepare a brief essay embody ing some of the facts they had just learned. One of the boy# thereupon prepared and turned in the following lucid offering: "Borne horses is called paceters. They can run faster ’cause they are bowlegged.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. No Fairy Tale. He belonged to the "hie” brigade. He came home late and in disorder His wife met him with a rolling pin and a tense biceps, ready to strikt ;»hcn the Ire was hot. "Shweetheart,” he said, “I've beef discushln’ war at the club. I heard you reading a paper on peace you read before the woman's club. Now (hie) lesh arbitrate thlsh matter.” He thought he was wise. Next mor§ ing he was wiser.—lndianapolis Stir HIS LITTLE DINNER NEW YORKER'S PLEASANT EVEN ING WITH FRIENDS. Only After Expenses Were Paid and Jollity a Remembrance Came Idea That Important Fact Had been Over looked. It seemed years since Ethridge had seen Rogers, and when they met one afternoon in Union Square the latter wouldn’t let him off until he had promised to come and dine the next night. "I don't know of anything that could give me more pleasure, old man, than to buy you the best dinner that can be had in town." he said, and meant it. So the next night Ethridge met Rogers at one of the famous hotels uptown. It was the first time this winter he had been out anywhere, and the first time he had worn his evening clothes. Rogers is popular. Everybody knows him. They had hardly met at the appointed restaurant before a par ty of sif. men in dinner clothes sur rounded hint, and there were introduc tions to Ethridge. "Just going to dine? Come and dine with üb,” insisted the spokesman of the six. So presently the double quartet was ordering wine and high priced delicacies, quarreling good na turedly as to who should pay for the whole spread. The cigars, Ethridge remembers, were long, glossy, brown skinned beauties with no especial trimmings in the way of silver foil, but they cost $1.25 apiece. The bill as a whole was pretty stiff, even for that part of town By and by it was decid ed to hire a room, play a few games of poker and attend to the minor de tail of who should pay afterward. As soon as the game started a “kit ty” was created to pay for cigars and drinks. Because the "kitty” paid everybody ordered more champagne. The play lasted till near midnight. Then, as some of the party had to catch suburban trains, the game broke up, all declaring that it had been a long time since they had spent such an agreeable evening with good fel- "By Jove. I Was the Guest!” lows. Ethriige had enjoyed himself as much as any one, perhaps more. The question of who should pay came up acain. Rogers grabbed the check when It was brought, but two of his friends piled onto him and took it away. "Here, this is too much for any one of us to stand.” they said. The items were: Dinner. $47; wine, $35; cigars. $13.50; sundries, SB. Total, $103.50. "Let the ‘kitty’ pay for It.” The "kitty,” however, though a well-fattened animal, came S4O short of paying the bill. Ethridge had lost $25 at poker, but paid another $3 to ward squaring the evening's fund, each of the party bearing his share in the deficit. Then, as they started away, it suddenly occurred to Rogers that the waiter had not been tipped. “We'll soon settle that,” he said. “Here, cut the cards to see who gives him £3." Ethridge lost ar l handed over the tip. When he star ed home by him self he found that hi remaining cash amounted to $1.87. The evening had been so pleasant, however, that even then he did not grudge the outlay. But as he turned into his door a thought suddenly occurred to him. “By Jove, I was the guest!"—New York Press. Fire Burned Forty Years. In 187.7 a party of hunters kicked some coals down a shaft Into the Greenwood mine at Langsford. Pa. Gases took fire and the flames have not let up until recently. The mine was closed and a mixture of water and culm run into the fiery caverns. The culm hardened, filling the openings below and the end of the destructive work is said to be in sight. Over a mile of flame has been extinguished. On Galileo's Tower. This weather vane is on the tower near Florence, where Galileo made im portant astronomical observations. In a room below it aro preserved the great man’s telescope and various other reminiscences of his sojourn there. • Wind Carried Off Manuscript. Holman F. Day has met with an ac cident which he could not have avoid ed readily. A reader, who had his story of Madawaska in manuscript, had not fully made up his mind as to its value when a gust of wind whisked it from his hands. The reader, who was on an elevated train at the lime, has not vet been able to resume bis study of life in far Madawaska. SHOULD GROW BEARD OR SHAVE. Resemblance of Two Public Men Makes Confusion. For some time George Dexter Clark, former chairman of the Republican city committee, has been greatly de ceived by the resemblance which Prof. C. D. Ha/.en of Smith college bears to Representative Winslow H. Edwards of Easthampton. His confusion of the two led ••o many amusing interviews, in which Prof. Hazen was asked his D. 11. Rhlnchnrt has sold his Interrst J n opinion on political matters. His re plies were often along other lines than those expected by Clark. Mutters culminated on a train to Springfield a short time ago, when Mr. Clark and Prof. Hazen occupied seats opposite each other. Raising his voles so that it could be heard above the roar of the train, Mr. Clark yelled: "How about that liquor bill?” "What liquor bill?” demanded the astomided professor: "I know nothing about any liquor bill.” “Why, of course you know,” per sisted Mr. Clark; "you introduced it into the House.” "Introduced nothing!” said Dr. Ha zen.” "Aren't you Representative Ed wards?” asked Mr. Clark. “No." "Oh!”—Boston Herald. HAS WATCH MADE BY NATURE. Maine Man Can Tell the Time by Looking at His Palm. There is a man living at Newport. Maine, who has the mysterious ability of being able to tell the accurate time of day by simply looking in the palm of his hand as another would at his watch. No one has been able to learn his method, and in fact he himself cannot explain the source of his power. This uncanny knowledge Is not of recent origin, he having used it for many years. When he first began to use this gift, as he consideres it, he purchased a watch, then looking at his hand to I ascertain the time he would compare his figures with those of his watch, ' finding his own always correct. Many of the people about the vil lage who doubted his power and who looked upon it as a "fairy story” have : by their own observation and experi ments become convinced of its truth. Walter Nason was horn in the town of Palmyra forty years ago and went i to Newport when he was about 15 years of age. He attended the dis trict school at Gilman, after which he found employment in different mills, at one of which he is working at the , present time. Truant Grotto. It is believed by geologists that this beautiful natural grotto of Mitramo nia, with the rest of the island of Capri, where it stands, broke ofT at an early age from the promontory of Sor rento and anchored itself about three miles away in the bay of Naples. Professional Gossips. In China elderly ladies are regu larly employed as gossips, and they are paid well. It is usual for them to go to the best houses, beating a drum to announce their arrival, and to offer their services to the lady r.f the house as entertainers. If their offer is accepted they sit down and tell the latest news, the choicest scandal and anything that they think may interest their hearers. Should their stock in trade prove very delectable they most likely go away with a handsome pres ent in addition to their regular fee. which is at the rate of about 25 cents an hour. Some of these gossips have a large number of clients, whom they visit at regular intervals. Gamekeeper Captures an Eagles. Many a British gamekeeper has ruthlessly shot an eagle, and even an Alpine gamekeeper seldom secures one alive. This rare exploit has just been performed by a gamekeeper at Albeuve, in Freiburg. The bird had swooped upon a hare, with which it was soaring to its eyry, when the gamekeeper fired, and the bird was hit in the wing just sufficient ly to stop present flight without per manently damaging the limb. The hare was killed by the shot. The b'rd, which is a Royal eagle, was captu*vd. and the wing will soon heal. The spread of the wings is 88 inches.— Londjn Daily Globe. The Boy Who Talks With Animals. Perhaps the strangest case of com munication and understanding be tween man and animals ever investi gated by scientists has come to light in eastern Alabama —in the section of cotton country between Wedowee and Rockdale. The astounding reports from the case have startled the stud ents of psychology and the possibility of the establishment of complete un derstanding between man and the lower animals is suggested by the facts of the case. Howard Erwin, a 6-year-old boy, is reported by competent authority, and the reports are substantiated wholly or in part by the Investigations recent ly conducted, to be able to converse with, to understand, and to make him self understood perfectly by animals of all kinds. By some mysterious power—not yet understood and not un derstood at all by himself, this boy, otherwise a perfectly healthy and nor mal lad. holds long talks with cows, with mules, with dogs, horses, sheep, cats —even with the barnyard fowls and he understands and reports to his father or the others Just what the ani mals want, all their grievances, their sicknesses, and their wants. Acts as Their Interpreter. How he does it the boy does not know'. The power, it seems, was born in him. While fond of animals he seems not to be more so than any healthy child, nor do they seem espe cially attached to him, with the excep tion of Trace, his old coon dog, and the relation he appears to bear to them is simply that of a friendly trans-. lator—or intermediary between them and their masters. Nor has any one yet been able to discover whether it is by spoken lan guage or by some mystic transference of thoughts that they understand each other. It is known that when he is near an animal they both make sounds occasionally, but he speaks nothing that any one can understand nor does the alleged language sound in any way connected or to have any meaning whatever. The discovery that the child is pos sessed of a strange power has thrown a veil of mysticism and superstition around him. The negroes avoid him and watch him with a strange mix ture of fear and admiration. And also within the last six months it has been observed that his power of communicating with the beasts of the field appears to be waning—and those who have studied the case declare that within a few years the strange power will vanish entirely. Could Read Minds of Humans. When the child was just beginning to toddle around the house it was no ticed he was not the same as other children when he was in the presence of human beings. He was extremely intelligent from the time he first be gan to notice things—and he read the minds of his mother and father and his sister Lizzie before he could talk. The mother, who worked hard, had little time to spend with him in play and his companions were his sister, three years older than he, and Trace, the coon dog. The mother noticed first that she did not have to speak to her child when she wanted him to do something. Often, she says, she stnrted to tell him it wsis time to t«ake a nap—and, before she could speak, he either cried in protest against being put to bed. or toddled towards the trundle bed and rolled into it. She is not a particularly bright wom an, nor yet one of much education, al though she can read and write, but even she puzzled her brain about the child. And, when he learned to talk, she noticed it still more. Dog Tells Him the Truth. One evening she and her husband were sitting with the children on the porch of their little home, when How ard, who had been stretched out on the floor, with his head on the dog’s body, wabbled to his feet and said: “Maw, Trace says the mule Is in the corn patch.” "What will that child say next?” asked Mrs. Erwin. "He's all the time telling me what the dog says, or what the pigs told him. I never saw such a child. He must be crazy.” Half an hour later the mule was found in the corn patch. "I reckon the dog told the kiddie the truth,” remarked the father when he came back. "I reckon I ought to have gone out then. Shouldn’t be surprised if old Jem had foundered herself." After that the child's strange power was watched with the greatest inter est and with increasing amazement. Worth of the Whipping. A farmer, whose fruit orchards had been very often robbed, caught a boy up one of his trees. “Come down, you young rascal!” shouted the owner. “No fear; not while you're there,” replied the urchin. "Well, I’ll wait till you do.” “All right,” said the lad. They had waited about an hour, when an idea occurred to the boy. Snatching an apple, he took a steady aim, and hit the old farmer on the head with it. “Hullo, what’s up now?” "It’s just this. I'm gaun to keep peltin' till every apple’s off the tree un less ye promise not to touch me, for if I’m gaun to get a hidin’ I'm gaun to have me sport for it. What d’ye say?” The owner of the property had to agree. Founder of Y. M. C. A. The life of the late Sir George Wil liams, founder of the Young Men's Christian association, will be written by his nephew. J. E. Hodder Williams The negroes vowed he had second sight. At times the child would get up as if he hud been called and trot out through the yard and into the barn lot —to some animal. Then he would come back and report. He always used the expression, “The horse says,” or “The dog told me,” or “The hens say, just as if he had been talking with them. Told by Mule of Its Injury. One evening his father, tired from the day's work, was lying on the gras*, when Howard came trotting in from the barn. "Paw,” he said, “Jem told me hetL knee hurt her. She says she sprainJP it plowing to-day.” "I reckon that mule lied to yju, son,” remarked his father. “I reckon she's jes’ powerful lazy and don't want to work to-morrow.” "She says she can't work to-mor row,” said the boy. "Her leg is so sore she can’t hardly touch it to the ground.” “I reckon she’s just tellin' you that so’s you’ll tell me,” remarked the father. The next day Jem was put to work, but before noon her leg was so swollen that Erwin was forced to abandon his plowing and bring the suffering animal into the barn. And for weeks she was unable to work. “I don't understand It,” remarked the man. "There wasn't a mark or a swelling on her, for I examined her closely before taking her out to work." Persuades Dog to Cease idling Sheep. “Maw,” said Howard another day. “Trace says he had a fine time kill ing sheep the other night." "Listen to the boy,” said the moth er. "The Idea of Trace killing sheep. Why, there isn’t any sheep around here, except Mr. Tomlinson's and none of them has been killed." "Well,” argued the boy, '\ie says him and the Norton dog killed two sheep in Mr. Tomlinson's back pas ture.” And the next day the carcasses of two sheep were found in the bushes at the edge of the pasture. “You'd better tell Trace he'll be killed if he does that any more,” sajf) the father. Shortly afterward Howard report ed that Trace had promised never to ki'l sheep any more —and, .-o far as is known, he never has, although the Norton dog was caught and killed a few weeks afterward while eating the body of a sheep. Bull Explains Cause of Madness. When the child was five years old his power seemed at its greatest. He was sent for by planters from all the country around when valuable animals got sick. lie would walk to the side of the sick animal, slowly stroke its head with his hand —and then come away and tell exactly what the matter was. Once, when Major Petti ham bull got wild, refused to per mit any one to come nenr it. and raved around its pasture lot as if mad. the boy calmly walked up to it, and, after a time, came away and reported. "The bull says that there is som* thing hurting its foot and that the pain is making It mad." The negroeH, under orders, lasso* d the bull, and a wire nail was found sticking in the cleft of its front foot, rusting while the wound festered, lie reported that a valuable horse belong ing to Gen. Dunston, merely had the toothache, after veterinarians had | tried in vain to cure it —and. when ; the tooth was removed the horse got j well. He told what the pet rabbits said, he even talked with the pigs, and in time, as the facts became known, he was regarded with superstitious aw<** The animals seemed to know by IP* stinct that he understood them and even the wild rabbits and the pos sums would come to him, and the wild birds did not seem a bit afraid of him. Often when he sat in the front yard In front of the house he would be surrounded by a flock of birds. The facts reached Prof. Shaw, who investigated and reported that the child seemed possessed of a strange and peculiar power—which gradually was dying out. Without drawing any definite conclusions he reported the facts of the case as they were report ed to him. Real "Gentleman.” She was fair, fat and forty, and when she heard a suspicious noise emanating from the dining room in the wee small hours she picked up a curtain pole nnd bravely started down to investigate. By the flickering light of the candle she discovered an in truder in an evening suit and a silk hat. Who are you?" she demanded. “I am a gentleman burglar,” replied the stranger, bowing low. "Gentleman, did you say? Why, no gentleman would enter a house with the intention of robbing a poor, de fenseless wife." Wife? Ah, lady, you look so young and pretty I thought you must be the youngest daughter.” Flattery won. She went back stairs without calling the police the next day she told the neighbors what a nice “gentleman” had robbed the house.—Chicago News. Fatalities in British Collieries. In 1905 there were 955 fatal accl dents in th« collieries of Great Brit ain and Ireland.