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| ! | H You. CanH Miss It by Investing q I | j&jzrjS? | ON TH£ BOULEVARD !! j s PRICES ♦ Simpson Avenue is already the Boulevard of the City. We have I PRICES i 2 -f just sold a number of lots in our new addition on Montague Heights. # S J Residences are being built. They overlooK the mineral springs. 2 I'D ♦ This addition is the coming fine residence section of Idaho Springs. FROM • -t- It has city water and electric light. Lots will be sold on easy pay T ments. Ten per cent, received from the sale of all lots will be used ” • 2 1 J in improvements on the streets and alleys. Let us tell you all about (Rl 2 J tHe coming advantages. | TO I PINE. SLOPE ADDITION TO 1 2 X Adjoining City ParK ♦ These lots are located on the sunny slope of Montague Heights, * X loohing directly down on the Mineral Springs and Soda CreeK. f 2 PTT 13 * Write or C.ll on PP" * | .... | BUSH ©. BONNEY | |()T X Real Estate, Loans, Mines and Insurance * § i ft 2 t 1013 M!NER STREET - - - IDAHO SPRINGS. COLO. ♦ Jc?Jc?Jc? J i [zzzi -—I • % B Values Are on tHe Advance B i 11=1 =<l Passion of the Angler Fish Makes Game Fight and Receives His Libert} The sloop yacht Sibyl lay tugging at her anchor rope in the middle of the Fishkill channel, in Jamaica Bay. June had lain her smiling benedic tion over all the land and sea. A strong breeze from the ocean had kicked up a fretful sea. The spume from the little waves swept the deck of the Sibyl. It was a baptism by sprinkling. The angler stood in the cockpit with a ten-ounce rod in his hand. It was fashioned of wood from the jungles of Calcutta. That rod had skit tered pork-rind for pickerel in the wilds of Pennsylvania. It had jerked the gymnastic bluefish his environment of blue water. It had thrown a thin shadow over the smiling ripples of the Neversink at the foot of Slide Mountain. It had conjured leaping grilse from the tide w r aters of the Miramichi. and still its spring was arrogant, its fiber unimpaired. The line was of twelve-thread linen of a special weave, with a tensile streng\h of ten pounds to each of the 300 carefully parafined feet. The cost of the line only was sufficient to pay a month’s rent in a tenement house. "The tide is rising, sir,” said the guide. “We ll have to reef her goin’ in. Shall I take up the anchor?” “Not yet,” replied the angler. “I have been out here all the afternoon and not a sign have I seen of our old friend Cynorcion regalis. I have chummed him with two quarts of shrimp, I have tempted him with yards of blood worms at 5 cents per yard, and yet he has not responded to my woo ing. I shall try one more cast and then we will pull up the anchor and sail for home.” The line ran slow’ly out carried by the tide. Suddenly it lifted over the intervening furrows of water. The point of the rod went up in the air. The line tightened until it sang a tune in the stiffening breeze, and little beads of water dropped from it into the bay. Cynoscion regalis had come. The angler braced his feet, for the Sibyl was uneasy as a yearling colt. The fish had struck the hook In the white-plumed apex of a wave, which the de parting sun had dyed a vivid crimson. In the red glare he shone like re fiued gold. Urged by the resilient rod and persuasive revolutions of the sil ver windlass, the fish came nearer and nearer to the boat, in narrowing arcs of a circle, crossing and recrossing the radiant waterway made by the set ting sun; the line cutting a little jet of spray before its tense fiber. Only once did Cynoscion reveal his silvern symmetry as he darted through one water furrow into another in the effort to rid himself of that inexorable line. One despairing attempt he made to rush under the boat, but the strong wrist turned him, the landing net slipped under him. and he was laid tenderly upon the rounded, wave-swept free-board of the Sibyl. Running the hook of a pocket scales through the bight of the snell, the engler raised the fish. “Three pounds ten ounces,” said he, “and with a belly rounded like a fifteenth century prior’s.” Then he lay Cynoscion regalis back upon the deck, a living jewel bathed In brine. His sides were silvery, with irregular dark, undulating stripes. His eye looked like a spot of jet in a circle of amber. He lay perfectly still except for a faint motion of his fanlike rudder. As the light touched his armor the burnished scales took on irridescent. kaleidoscopic hues. “Do you think he is dead?” asked the angler. “No, sir; he is only wind-blown.” The angler leaned over the side of the boat and placed the fish gently In the water. He laid upon his side, supine, inert. But the waves dawdled him and the juvenescence of old ocean trickled through his crimson gills. His body began to tilt until It stood nearly on an even keel. His dorsal fin rose like a sail on the far horizon. Cynoscion regalis was alive again. One flirt of his mighty tail, one heave of his virile, flexuous body, and he was gone, leaving the angler wet with the spray of his parting salute.— Philadelphia Times. EXCURSION TO THE NORTH WEST. From July 11th to 21st the Union Pa cific will sell round trip tickets to Portland, Tacoma and Seattle at a rate of S4O, and to Spokane, Butte or Hel ena at $35. Stop-nvcrs. Return limit September 15th. Finest trains in the world; electric lights, barber shop, baths, library, etc. See your local agent, or address K. R. Griffin, Den ver. Owen Debt to an Ancestor. Ix>rd Rodney is one of the men who have reason to be grateful- for the bravery of their ancestors. The sink ing of seven Spanish ships and the capture of a Spanish general over l 100 years ago are still costing the country £2,000 a year, which goes to Lord Rodney as an annual gift from the state. It was his ancestor, th* famous admiral, who relieved Gibralj tar in 1782, and the pension was the reward for his gallantry. It was orig* inally granted for life, and as he died nine years later his bravery would have cost the country only £IB,OOO, but for the fact that after his death an act was passed perpetuating tha pension for all time. That act hat cost the state considerably over £200,* 000. Andrew C arnegie’s Personality. Writing »in Leslie’s Weekly Harry Beardsley describes Andrew Carnegie as “a little, smSing, white-haired man, unaffected in manner, with noth ing whatever imposing in his bearing, without what is commonly called a ‘presence,’ or, in expressive slang, a ‘front’ —a man so diminutive that he is conspicuous in contrast with other men and women surrounding him. He seems so small, so gentle and modest that you look in vain in his conduct at that time for some of the forceful personal traits which he possesses— traits which he has exercised to thrust himself ahead of those who were in the ra<••* wtib him.” Even Spain a Purchaser. Spanish capitalists have formed a company to utilize the waterfall of the Jarama river eleven miles from Ma drid. Ttree thousand horse power will be developed. The street cars ami lighting of the capital will be served by this enterprise. Americans arc chiefly interested because the com pany intends to purchase nearly all of the material from the United States. Scene of Braddock’s Defeat Memorial To Be Ple.ced On Famous Battlefield After remaining unmarked for nearly 150 years, the scene of Gen. Brad dock’s defeat, is to have a monument. It will be placed in Kennywood Park on a site commanding an extensive view of the environs of the battle ground, where, on July 9, 1755. the petulent Braddock was mortally wounded and his little army almost annihilated in an ambuscade of French and Indians. It was on Tuesday night. July 8, 1755, that Gen. Edward Braddock and his expedition, comprising 1,400 men—veteran British grenadiers from the Seven Years’ War and colonial rangers well versed in Indian warfare reached the banks of the Monongahela below McKeesport, Penn. Within two days the English officer expected to receive the surrender of the French stronghold of Fort Duquesne and reclaim for his King all the great strip of territory west of the Alleghany Mountains. Long before dawn on Wednesday the troops were on the alert, and the rising sun on that sultry July morning looked down upon one of the most imposing armies that ever invaded the American wilderness. Before the close of the day more than half the number had been slaughtered and scalped by the savages, and the valiant but obstinate commander had received his death wound. The river was forded near Deramer Station, and the army, as if on dress parade, marched down the south bank of the stream. Col. Gage— the same Gage who afterward gained fame in the Revolutionary War during the Boston campaign—led the vanguard and held the ford where Braddock Borough now stands. Before 2 o’clock all was ready for the crossing. The national bands struck up the Grenadiers’ march, and with pride the com mander watehed his array of veterans swing into line. Everyone Is familiar with the terrible slaughter that followed. It equals the percentage of losses at Waterloo. The number of killed in the ranks of the British and colonists is reported at 456, while 421 were wound ed. Within three hours the sad remnant of the proud army straggled back toward Kennywood. Men who had led the furious charges of Fontenoy ten years before fled headlong when beset by the painted allies of the French. Braddock himself was a hero of Fontenoy. having served nearly fifty years in the Coldstream. Guards, the elite of the English Army. He rose from the office of ensign in that famous command to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, having been conspicuous In his gallantry under the very eyes of the Duke of Cumberland. On Sunday night, July 13, Braddock died and was buried in the roadway with scant military honor. Washington, then an aide on Braddock’s staff, read the funeral service. He Served Under Rochambeau Plain Stone Marks Grave Of Etienne Marie Bechet Now that public attention haa been called *o the fact that a modest monument In a far corner of St. Paul’s churchyard at New York marks tbo grave ot Etienne Marie Bechet. Sieur de Rochefontalne and an officer on Rochambeau’s staff, it is probable that some of our patriotic societies will see that It is properly decorated. Bechet died in New York in 1814 and the monument was erected by Mme. Gentil. his daughter, whose husband played first violin in the old Park theater. A search of the historical records of the Revolution does not indicate that,tills Frenchman was distinguished In sny other way during the struggle than as a man who served with Rocham beau and who gave his allegiance to the young i uibllc.