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I Copyright bj t S. S. McCLDRE CO. t ♦ ♦ ■ ■ ■ " ' '■■■'.■'■:'-■ THE HON. W. H. McGUIRE sat on a log on the bank of Walnut creek, getting his parapher nalia ready for a day's fishing. Already he had secured his bucket of minnows, and had selected his loca tion for angling, a pool just above the riffle.bordered on the opposite side with drooping willows that almost reached down to dabble the ends of their over hanging branches in the water. If bass were to be found anywhere in Walnut creek, by all indications it should be right there. At this particular moment he was engaged in putting together his joint ei bamboo rod. As he lifted the third section to screw it into place, he was struck with a thought of such start ling nature that he paused involun tarily and was soon lost in reverie. It had suddenly come to him that he was lost, had been lost for many years, and that he had not realized it until Not bodily lost. He knew his pres ent location, even to township, range and section. Nor yet lost in a physi cal or moral sense. He was a very good man, was the Hon. W. H. Mc- Guire, and held in high esteem by his fellow citizens, as the last November vote had testified. But, as he sat there, there came to him a sudden memory from his boyhood days. He had been so very, very busy these past dozen years that he had hardly given a thought to the old days. How he called to mind just how his. name looked in the big leather-bound family Bible, written out in his fa ther's plain, old-fashioned hand. "Wil liam Henry, third son of John and Mary Mc.Guire." He thought of that September morning when he had started for col lege. All the boys and girls of his set were down to the 7:30 train to see him off. His last memory of their faces was the glimpse he had from the car window as i le train pulled out of the station. The boys had yelled "Good by, Billy!" and the girls had shouted •'Be a good boy, Billy-boy!" and had waved their handkerchiefs until shut from sight by the curve around Grav elback hill. Now the fact dawned on him that was the last time he had heard a friendly voice say "Billy." In college he had been plain Mc- Guire. During the time he was read ing law in the office in the city he was "young McGuire." Then, when ad -1 to the bar, he had hurried away to the West to woo fame and fortune; had picked out the county seat as an eligible place to begin, and, for a time, W. 11. McGuire, attorney. Later, he became "our leading lawyer, Mc- Guire," and at last, "our eloquent young orator and present representative from this county, the Hon. W. H. McGuire." As he- felt the breath of the south v, md flowing up creek, and listened to the whistling of the redblrds, he thought, for the moment, that he would gladly Rive all his honors for the s*ke of hearing the boys say "Billy" In the old. careless, affectionate way. •Do you care if I fish In this hole, too ?" McGuire looked up. A ten-year-old boy, with a flishing pole across his shoulder, stood before him. The lad had a sunburned face beneath his straw hat, and his deep blue eyes set Mc- Guire puzzling as, to when and where he had seen their likr> before. Aside from the straw hat the boy's wardrobe Isted of the two essential garments —a checked shirt and a pair of Mue denim overalls, held in place by a soli tary suspender. "Do you car-? if I fish in this hole, too?" repeated the boy, not quit* sure whether or not the gentleman had beard his first query. Mr. McGuire did not care. In fact, ♦ HOW SENATOR THURSTON j FOUGHT BIG SALMON ♦ " « FORMER Senator John M. Thurston, o£ Nebraska, was a caller at fee publican headquarters in Chicago the other day. He seemed to be in a hurry, but he stopped long enough to shake hands with a tall, broad hatted Westerner who had dropped in to see how they run a campaign here. "Thurston is one of the star spell binders all right," said the Westerner when the former senator had gone, "but he is pretty good at other things too. Perhaps you don't know it, but that he-spectacled old boy is one of the keenest sportsmen in America. His hand may not be as steady as it used to be, but I remember the time when he was about the best shot in the whole West* He could hit ninety out of a hundred pennies tossed twenty feet in the air, and his shells would be loaded with Si-caliber bullets and not bird shot. With a Winchester 'pump 1 he has killed six willow grouse, one by one, out of a flushed flock of eight before they got out of range, and with out taking his rifle from his shoulder. •There were three of us, including the senator, on a little fishing trip in the dalles of the Columbia river. Of all the raging streams on this conti iunt, I think the Columbia along the dalles holds the palm, and the way that Silver tongued orator' hung onto a certain forty-pound buck salmon in that rushing torrent is one of the pluckiest things In the piscatorial an nals of the Northwest. "We -.vere fishing with" the usual trout tackle, rod and reel, and our movements were impeded by heavy rubber 'waders' reaching almoet to our armpits. The salmon when running • •.'me pretty near making the stream •alive with fish.' The water is simply crowded with them. Just to give you en illustration, I might say that the black bears along the Columbia wade into the river and scoop the fish out with their paws. This is not a yarn, but the truth. These bears taste so strongly of fish that they are not con sidered palatable food. The salmon, un like the trout, does not snap at bait. You simply throw in your nook and snag him. And then comes the fun. You never will have any doubt that the salmon is a game fish. The creature has full play of his body and he is aided by the sweeping current. "Thurston had succeeded in landing upward of a dozen salmon ranging from fifteen to twenty-five pounds. Out in the boiling rapids to his waist, he had gradually worked down stream un til l:e,was near the point where the bed of the stream was brolcen by an eight-foot fall. I was on the bank THE MAM WHO FOUND HIMSELF he would be very glad to have his com pany. He said so. "This is my pa's crick," volunteered the boy; "but he lets everybody flsa in it 'at wants to." He unwound the line from his hick ory pole, dug a worm out of the dirt in his old tomato>ran, impaled it, spat on the bait and cast it with a swish into the pool. Mr. McGuire went to his own bait can, selected a minnow, hooked it through the back and made a long cast into the deep water by the willows. "Do you use minnies for bait?" "Yes. I'm fishing for bass." "And can you catch 'em that way?" "Sure! Can you catch 'em any other way?" "No, I can't! I've tried lots o' times, too. I've seen 'em In the clear water —great big fellows —and I've tried time and time again with nice fat grub worms. They'd always swim around, sort o' lazy-like. and act like they waa smellin' the b»it. and then they'd sort o' turn up their noses and swim off dike they was sayln', 'I ain't much hun gry for grubs today.' I thought there ought to be some sort b' bait they liked, but I never could make out what it was. Oh, look-ec! You've got a bite!" Mr. McGuire was already looking. His line was cutting throiigh the water at a tremendous rate. He checked the reeling out of the line with his thumb for an Instant to make sure of fasten ing his fish, felt satisfied with the sharp tug at the line, and slowly reeled out more line. He played his captive back and forth, keeping it just out of the overhanging willows, and at the end of five minutes landed his fish. It was the first time the boy had wit nessed the scientific capture of a black bass. "Isn't he a beauty! He's a whole foot long, and I'll bet he weighs two pounds if he weighs anything at all! Why, I didn't know there was a fish that big in this crick!" Mr. McGuire laughed an almost boy ish laugh. "It's a pretty good morning for bass. This place hasn't been fished much, anyway, I should Judge. "1 shouldn't wonder if the whole creek is full of them." The boy's face was worth seeing. He hesitated a moment and then asked: "Say, mister, what's your name, any way?" "il ." Then Mr. McGuire paused. Then he said, "My name? Oh, well, I guess when I go fishing with -a boy it's my boy name—Billy. I think we will have a first-rate time today if you just call me Billy. At least I shall." The boy pondered a moment. "My name's Tommy—Tommy Has kins. Say—Billy—do you s'pose I could catch a bass on my hook —with your kind of bait?" 'Why, yes. You may not have as much fun out of It as you would have with a reel; but if you don't jerk too hard you'll probably catch as many as I do. Help yourself to the bait." "'Have you good'n' plenty?" 'He is certainly good mannered," mused Billy. Then aloud: "Plenty? Oceans of them! Besides, when I go fishing I always go snooks—cahoots — partners, you know —with the other fellow. The bass will not bite much more than half an hour longer, and then we'll have a try for sunfish and bluegills, and you'll have to divide your worms with me." The boy was unaffectedly delighted. Billy showed him how to bait his hook, meanwhile explaining to him the the ory of proper baiting. Then he bus ied himself with his own line. •Oh, Billy!" That was all. But it toM volumes of excitement and gratified triumph. Bil ly looked around. The hickory fish pole was bent, the line stret«-herl taut, and flinging off a little spray of water in the sunshine, and the boy's arms were stretching out. further, further. "Wade in! Wade in. I tell you! He'll break the line if you don't wade in! Wade up creek!" If the command had been to wa<le through fire the boy would have obeyed watching him and saw that the current would soon prove too much for him and carry him over. Just then he hook ed another salmon, and the impetus it added to his movement down stream alarmed me. He was in the water now almost to his shoulders, and I tried my best to get out to him. "I waded out to my waist, when I felt the chopped off ledge, denoting the presence of deeper ■water at my feet. I could go no further, but succeeded in reaching him-with the end of my rod. I begged him to take hold. " Never mind, Henry," came the cheery answer. 'I can't hold with one hand, and if I take your pole I'll have to let him go.' " Let him go to the devil.' I entreat ed. 'TouTl be drowned If you dont. *Take hold of my rod.' "He shook his head in refusal. I kept begging him to let the fish go, but we were then so near the falls that the roar of the water drov\ ned my words. 'Once I was swept off.my feet, but I regained mr equilibrium in time to hear Thurston shout: • '• 'He's the king of the 'Tun." and Til stay with him to Astoria but what I get him:* "I struggled out i toward * the: edge of the water-'and "looked' around just 'in time to catch a sight,of the Senator's heels going over the falls.. He had com pletely 'turned ; turtle,', and ' let ;me tell you right here I never "expected to sec him again.' ■ ■,. '\2-< r ' --* ? :•: 'I clambered .down over the "rocks to the side» of y the deep pool below the falls, calling- to- him ,f all the, time to keep his • nerve and I would save him. But the first glance at the ' surface of the water paiaryzed..-my -organs-of speech; -•; There was v nothing in sight but - the seething torrent.** The senator had disappeared, water" logged" by his heavy waders and relentlessly/ held to the bottom. "~I was almost beside my self. ' My first : impulse • was . to dive 'in and bring him •to . the • surface.: Just as I was on the ■ point ]of . making a • plunge I saw; the end of la.; trout rod appear above the swirling 1, foam close to the falls.\lt T grew taller and taller,' regis tering the depth of the submersion of its possessor;, as - c truly as the ; gauge fof an old Union Pacific water tank.. Pres netly . a hand z appeared i clutching the rod in a death gasp. Then a familiar bald pate, minus :--, hat and a pair »of spectcles. . : . - ,>;; "Johnny! Thank God!' I shrieked frantically. "But almost before the words wer» spoken he had disappeared again, with the faithful rod or*ce more marking the depth of the whirling eddy that held him. 'The salmon evidentiy had taken refuge by lying low in the pool. This was indicated by the slack line, fifty or more yards in leugth. But tuie last submersion of the senator must THE ST. PALL ULUHE. HV&DAt*. >OY EMBER 13, 11)04 -^^if^^^ J^^li> TL^ i'l \\\\ ~~ unhesitatingly- In he waded. "That's right! Hold your pole side ways, so he'll take the spring of the pole! Good boy! Now 4o it again, and keep doing it every time he turn*. You'll make a fisherman yet!" Back and forth the boy played the fish until it showed signs of tiring. "Now draw him in—gently. HolJ your pole sideways. If he makes a rush with the pole held straight he'll break the line! Lift him out —still sideways! 11l declare, if he isn't an inch longer than mine!" Tommy Haskins looked Joyously on the daik stripes of the baas as it lay there on the gravel, flopping and pal pitating by turns. Be could think of nothing better to say than: "I caught him all by myself, didn't I? I wish my pa could have been here to see me!" When the bass had ceased biting they had five beauties, three to the credit of Tommy Haskins. Billy put them in the fish basket and anchored them in the running water at the ripple. The boy now yielded to his social inclina tions. "Whereabouts do you live. Billy?" YOUNG HARRY THAW GAVE $75,000 A YEAR FOR THIS LOVELY GIRL l!!l!O»€!!!ll!lil!!!liliill,. illlUil|i!lllJI!jlllIJIIIHII!lll!lllllMil!lli!IIl She Was Miss Evelyn Nesbitt, a Pretty Model, but Married a Scion of the House of Thaw have startled him. Qlck; as' a flash the ;line cut the water down." stream, and - when - it' drew.'- taut op shot* that bald * head -again: as buoyant as an old fashioned* line 'bobber' —this - time to stay. ?'* - , «3Se9BHPB&^^ ' "I'waited no longer, but rushed into the water! with the fa^nt hope, of .cast ing: my line and entangling and reccv- "Oh. I stay up at the county seat. My boy home was back East—in In diana." "Indiana! Why. there's where my pa and ma came from. They talk about back there sometime*."* "Say." said Billy, struck with a sud den thought. "I'll tell you what. Tom my Hasfcins! You take these fish down to the house, and give 'em to your ma. and ask her to cook 'em for supper. And tell her you have * particular friend fishing with you today and that you'd like to have him down for sup per. And tell her he's from Indiana. And tell her I want you to come back and eat dinner with me. Oh, I've got plenty along! I always do take plenty when I go fishing. I never know how long I might want to stay. And, say! You've got some bacon at the ho«se? Well, bring about half a dozen slices, and I'll cook something good!" When Tommy Haskins got back Bil ly had a fire going. He had also taken the laprobe for a tablecloth, and had spread a dinner that looked very tempt ing to the country boy. There were ham sandwiches, and a bottle of stuffed olives, and cheese, and cookies, and ;*ing, th* half drowned senator and land ins his all but lifeless body. To :tell i the truth •: I; ; thought -> he bad b*«n • drowned *as : dead *"as * a mackerel."* and that be was being to-wed by that con founded salmon. I pot into i the water again up to ■my waist : and . was about to make a final cast, when I received a'jolt that sent nfe buck to terra flrma; oranges, and bananas, and a tin box of sandines. Billy explained: "I al ways take some fish with n:s when I go tishing. Then if I ion't catch any, way. I have fish anyhow." Then Billy cut a couple of small hickory sprouts, and. sharpening an end of each, gave one to Tommy Haw kins and said. "Now, you do Jost what you see me d.o. I'm going to shew you how to cook." Then he took three of the slices of bacon, impaled them, and held them over the bed of coals to broil. Temmy Haskins did likewise with the other three slices. Soon a tantsJizingly appetizing odor came from the bacon as the grease sputter ed down on tbe hot coals, and the raw sides of the strips took on a delicate brown. "t'-m-na! I didn't know bacon could smell so good. It fairly makes my mouth water!" "It tastes as good as it smells, too, on a picnic like this," responded Billy. It was a glorious dinner. Tommy Haskins said as much, and Billy heartily agreed with him. It was the first time Tommy Haskins had ever tasted sardines. He said they were Between, coughs,". sputters, : and. gasps my 'dead*, friend gayly chirped: : •-■ ..." 'Get. in out* of : the wet, Henry; -I'll land -him: on ".thin; bar.' *. ■ ■'-!.. —Tburston ■ had i been towed onto a sandbar-, in I midstream,/sand ■£ after a , right ' of £ about - halff an ; hour • more > he' was : tree to his word ; and - that salmon came out of the water to join him." "awful * good.'.V Billy * did not care for any He said so. That :is why Tommy HasWns * ate;, them.- all. Real X-*, French sardines 'are : good. > Billy said he had - his:-mouth * fixed for bass S for supper;": and he didn't propose* to spoil his ap- lite tor fitting urn :on - sardlnei.'Tom-^ my Haskios was sure it 'would not af fect: his" appetite"..: He did not " like the stuffed ~ olives, however, 5. and said * so frankly. ;> Billy ■ liked stuffed '.olives and ( ate them all. He : - explained that stuffed • olives i always * gave" him \ an: ap- \ petite for '- bass;;'- arid \theu> each of them^ate t three :'slices of : the broiled ;. bacon and " wished for more. When the " last crumb of the \ dinner had disap peared they .looked/ at each other • and smiled."-vV^^>^9^BoS^^S9B9p^fl| . Then it , was that \ Tommy ; Haskins said, "Billy, did '. you 'ever:hear, tell of folks eatln' frogs?'-'- ".".; ';;'•'.■: V '• -Yes." :. • ;: -; ? ' .-:--- r. ttsg". • -Well, but do you believe. it?" r "Why, yes!.. In fact. I've eaten them many a time myself."- . " "Gee." :- "" > 'They're good! . Better than spring chicken—a whole lot better!" "Gee-mi-nee Crickets!" •They are. You - Just take the hind leps. -skin them, roll ; them in. cracker dust,; fry , them .in butter,- and . they're" just—honkey!" " . ' ■ t- "Say! I know where there's a "whole million of 'em. But we haven't no gun nor nothin' to shoot 'em with." ~ "Yon do? . Then we'll have a few! I know how to get .'em." - . -^ " . Billy cut a bit of red cloth from the corner of the la probe - and : proceeded to wrap the hooks. . •: "Anything red ; makes a bullfrog an gry. ! It's - like 1 shaking ■ a red flag at a bull. You:want, to pick out your frog, hold the hook out in front of him. and ten chances to one he'll make a jump for it and get caught. We'll have more fun this afternoon than we can shake a stick 1 at." '"-■CSSP^HHHW They fished for frogs with fair suc cess until late in . the afternoon; then they started back to where * they had left the horse and buggy. They loiter ed by the way, and built a little dam of stonces across a" shallow, riffle. They ' sent flat pebbles skipping: on the sur face of the water. They answered the ; piping call of the quail somewhere out in the green wheat field. At the cave, where: the sandstone din* arched over the creek. Billy; discerned some slight depressions ] in, the ; dry, dusty floor of the cave, such as one might make by pressing the finger tips gently into a little' heap of dust. " Billy asked Tommy Haskins if he had ever seen the doodle bugs, and, re ceiving a negative answer, and the ex pression of Tommy Haskips' utter dis belief in their existence,' he dropped down off his hands and knees and be gan repeating the time-honored for mula for charming doodle' bugs from their subterranean home. The little mounds .of dust began to tremble, and then- the little dusty beetles came forth and whirled round and round in a very excited manner indeed. The boy look ed his , utter astonishment, and . then exclaimed:"" "Billy, I believe you know purf nigh everything!" Billy smiled and replied: "I guess you know a thing or two yourself. Say! Do you s'pose your ma has scaled those fish yet?" . ■.;,-/ "I don't know, but I bet she cooks 'em all right. Once my ma was! sick and we had a hired girl, and we purt* nigh starved to death! Pa could • beat her cookin' hisself. I heard him tell ma so. .But you just wait till you taste my ma's cookin'!" , When they drove out into the smooth road along the.west side of the section, Billy handed Tommy Haskins the lines, and said: t handed Tommy Haskins the lines, "Now you drive a bit." Hold a good tight line, chirrup twice, and I guess Prince will not need any whip." Tommy ' Haskins squared , his elbows, chirruped twice, and the roadster shot forward. with a suddenness that almost took the boy's ■ breath. Prince could do a two-forty cliE, and it was the first time Tommy Haskins had ever drawn line over anything. faster than one of his pa's old farm horses. , The fence posts, the grazing cattle, the row of catalpa trees along J the . roadside, all seemed to be flying in the opposite di rection. Tommy Haskins drew harder still upon the lines, his feet well braced against the foot rail, but the famous e@OKEB hat wmn by napoleon at Waterloo TIE famous cocked hat worn by Na poleon at Waterloo was the subject of sharp discussion last Thursday at the Institute of France. The late painter. J. L. Gerome. had bequeathed the historic relic to <he institute to be preserved in the Conde museum at Chantilly. This legacy excited the Indignation of several members of the Insltute. including: Messrs. Mezieres, Gruyer and Leopold de Lisle, who petitioned that august body to re fuse the beqaest. alleging that, as the Chantilly inr.^eum was a monument co»i -raetßetuUng the glory of the great Conde it would be highly unbecoming to place in it the headdress of the mar. who in lIBM had ordered the Due d'Enghien. great-grandson of the Prince of Conde, victor of Rocroy. to be shot. The ques tion of the cocked hat became a burning issue, and. in accordance with the petition, an extraordinary plenary session was held. and after a vigorous debate among the members of the five academics it was de cided by a vote of forty-two to twenty tight to accept the legacy. Consequently, the huge black felt tri-colored Napoleonic hat, measuring nearly a yard in width, will shortly be placed at Chantilly in a glass case beside the flag of Rocroy. This exciting historical discussion has elicited interesting revelations concerning Napoleons hats and uniforms. It appears that of the 150 hats that belonged to the great emperor there arc only seven now known to b*» in existence. By his will. dated April 15. 1821. Napoleon left to his son. the Due de Reichstadt. all hia wear ing apparel and equipments, including jewels, hats, swords, saddles, uniforms, boots, spurs, camp bedsteads, etc. In the lot marked by the emperor "C"—"inven tory of my personal effects that Marchand will keep and deliver to my son"—were two cocked hats. Aiter Napoleon's death the faithful Marchand sought in vain to be allowed lo see the sequestered Due de Reich-stadt — 'iAiglon"—«and to hand over to hint the objects that had belong ed to his father. The Due de Reichstadt died without ever seeing the relics be queathed to him. The objects were then drvMed among the emperors surviving brothers and sisters. The hat worn by the emperor at Waterloo was among the iot assigned to the ex-Queen Caroline, wife of Murat. who subsequently gave it to her secretary. F. B. de Mercey, "a re ward for long and faithful services." De Mercey left the hat in his will to his eld est son. who some thirty years ago sold it for the sum of 17,000 fanes to the paint er, J. L. Gerome. The historic hat was placed by Gerome in a glass case in his dining room, adjoining hi* studio, at ilontmartre. whtch was situated nearly opposite to the Moulin Rouge music hall. Shortly before the Due d'Aumales death Gerora* was lunching at the Chateau de Chantilly. While sipping coffee th« paint er remarked: "Do you know. raon seigneur, that a paragraph in my will ELLSWORTH KELLEY hors# only sped on the faster. Tommy Haskins gave a sideways glance of alarm at Billy. "Is he—is he —running off?" But Billy only laughed, and said: "Ease up a bit on the lines and see." Tommy Haskins slackened the lines, and very soon Prince had slowed down to a walk. The boy turned to Billy with delighted eyes, albeit his voice was trembling just a little. "When I get to be a man Tm going to have a trotting horse—just like him!" They walked Prince the rest of the way, and when they, came to the strip of alfalfa along the creek bottom, now in full bloom and ready for the fiut cutting. Billy laid his hand on the lines and stopped the horse. The odor of the bloom was beginning to rise with the early falling dew. "Smells mighty good, don't it? But I just got a sniff of somethin* a heap nicer. Don't you smell it, too—ma's coffee bilin'?" "When they reached the ranch house door. Tommy Haskins' ma met them and started to extend Tommy's com panion a hearty Kansas greeting, and to say that supper was already on the table, when she paused, scrutinised Billy's face closely, and exclaimed: "Good land alive! If It isn't Billy McGuire! Pal pa! Come here this rninut'. Here's Billy McGuire that I used to go to school with back in In diana, long before I ever saw you! My memory's better'n yours, Billy McGuire! You don't know me? Don't you recol lect the girl that used to hold you with one hand and wash your face in a snowbank with the other? Well, I'm her!" Then Billy replied, while the sound of his boy name, spoken in an oldtim* voice, ran through his veins like wine: "Molly Briggs, sure as I live! I thought this morning that I had seen those eyes of Tommy's somewhere before!" Tommy's pa came forward, smiling, and shook hands cordially with Billy McGuire. and asked him if he had just come out to Kansas. "Why, no!" said Billy. "I've lived at the county seat for the last ten years." "Well," put in Tommy's ma, "we've been out here a dozen years this spring, and the last six of 'em right here ou Walnut crick. How on earth does It happen that we've never heard tell of you?" Then a flash of intelligence lit up her face. "It can't be—yes, it is so, too. Pa, I'll declare if you didn't vote for Billy last fall! Don't you remem ber—'For Representative, W. H. Mc- Guire 7 I noticed the name at the time, but I never thought once of it'a bein* Billy:" After supper they insisted that Billy had to stay all night. But Billy de clared that he was compelled to take the morning train for Topeka to look after a case he had in the supreme court. So they did the next best thing, and made the most of an old-fashioned evening visit that lasted until the hands on the bigr, old-fashioned clock pointed alarmingly to the XII. on its face. Tommy Haskins sat wide-eyed all evening listening to the talk about the Smiths and Wigginses, and the Dilling becks, and about the church festivals at the chapel, where, town, against country boys, a cake was voted to the prettiest girl. And the country girl was the winner. And of all things! Her name was—Molly Briggs! And then and there Tommy Haskins resolv ed that, when he went back with his ma to visit at gran'pa's next fall, he would see at least two places. He. would see "Wesley chapel, where hla ma had been voted "the prettiest girl:" then he would have her show him the identical spot where she had washed Billy's face in the snowbank. When Billy had at last said goodby at the front gate, and had promised to come back next Sunday week and stay all day, the moon was riding high in the sky, and the smooth road was al most as light as day. At the cross road he turned to look back, and saw them slowly walking toward the house. Tommy Haskins and his ma and hia pa, hand In hand. As he faced about and drew the lines with a firmer grip, his thoughts fell into rhythm with the rhythm of hla horse's clattering feet, and both seem ed to say over and over: "Billy McGuire —is found—is found!" concerns you?" "Indeed." exclaimed the Due d'Aumale. "l"es." replied Gerome. "I have left to the Conde museum the hat worn by Napoleon at Waterloo." The Duo d'Aumale manifested some astonishment, and asked Gerome to tell him how the "Interesting relic" came Into his posses sion. No further mention was made of the hat until Gerorae's will was probated, when the matter was eagerly discussed, and it has at last been decided to place the famous black felt headdress In the central room of the museum beside the flag of Rocroy. The seven authentic Napoleonic hats now in existence are all of different di mensions. Prince Victor Napoleon. Princ* Louis Napoleon and the Empress Eu genic each have one. A fourth is owned by Armand Dumarescq, a Parisian paint er. ' Another figures in lime. Tussaud's museum in London beside the guillotine which served to decapitate Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette. The sixth hat of Napoleon was once the property of Meis sonier, the military painter, and, after having served as the model in all of that artist's pictures of»the emperor, was given by Charles Meissonier, the painter's son, to the Museum of the Army at the In valides. where Napoleon was buried. The seventh hat of Napoleon is that which he wore at Waterloo, and which is now go ing to the Conde museum at Chantilly, the magnificent castle and domain left by the late Due d'Aumale, lineal descendant -of Conde, to the Institute of France as a na tional monument to commemorate his il lustrious ancestor. It Is interesting to note that the legend of the "petit chapeau" still exists. Frenchmen always refer to the headgear of the First Napoleon as "the little hat." This is because the hats worn by Bona parte at Toulon, at Lodi, in Egypt, dur ing the famous eighteenth Brumaire. an* at Marengo were all quite small. When the emperor became stouter he ordered his hatter to widen the brims of hU head dress so as to be more becoming. A3 he became fat and "potbellied," and as hia face became bigger and bigger, his bats became broader and broader. For in stance, the hat of Waterloo is thrice the size of the hat of Austerlitz. These facts are recorded in the inventories ol the emperor's hatters, Potipard et Cie., whe had their shop near the law courts, and which were recently discovered by M. Germain Bapst. the Parisian antiquarian. Napoleon, although careful of hia per sonal appearance, had a terrible habit of soiling his waistcoat with snuff, which he carried loose in the left hand pocket, thereby doing away with the inconven ience of carrying a. snuffbox. It appears that the emperor bad also a slovenly trick of wiping the Ink from bis fingers on his breeches. The bate, : however,';! were i free ' from ' cuch ' accidents, and :ha i prided t himself ton the graceful way .' In ■ which 5 be 1 wore them.