A SNOW FANCY.
Tbe yollow girted things of Jnna
Whose ham 1 like a dull bassoon.
Sweet homee they have on swaying beds
' When are unpacked the clover beads
Those banting globes of purple fire.
The fuzzy coats apon each spire
Of blossoms perch, to search the rim
Lest it with honey overbrim -
But onlike these" the wild, white bees
That swarm upon the leafless trees;
For oar dull ears they have no song.
They do not to (he earth belong.
No stirring of the soft white wing
Was ever heard or flattering. ,
Although the darkened air they crowd.
Their happy hive is in the cloud, i
And they fonthe sky children there ';
In unseen pastures of the air 1
Distil the dew. O happy bees
That swarm among the winter trees. .
Annie Bronson King in Century.
4
-.1
'THE ONE THAT FOLLOWED
Two men. John and David, walked
-aide by Bide along a dusty road. They
were returning from the great town in
the valley to their homes in the hamlet
hanging high above them against the
mountain.
As they walked they chatted of the
sights in the town, of the good wives
and little ones to whom they were com
ing after thre days' absence; jo&ng,
joyous, happy in remembrance of their
town jollity and in the anticipation of
their welcome home. Occasionally they
stopped under the overhanging branches
of an orchard and ate apples, or they
kneeled . by a spring, making a enp of
their hands to drink from; then passed
n again.
The sun. struck down fiercely upon
"their backs and shimmered on the dust
mt the road.
"Ah, the heat! ' Let us go more slowly,
John." ,
"No," replied the other. "It will be
cooler higher up.j Let us make haste and
reach the 'shade of the woods, and be--yond
there will be-a breeze blowing."
,4 Suddenly, as they walked, David felt
tnat- they were not alone, and turning
Iiis head saw a third person following a
few paces behind them, an extremely
iJ&vld turned toe man s eyes looked into
his with a steady, unflinching gaze. The
black robed figure was only a short dis
tance behind him, walking with a long,
ven stride, without sound, his cloak
drawn up to bis ears, covering his mouth
and chin.
As David looked he shivered; then,
turning his head quickly, he walked rap
idly on, urging his companion to hasten.
"But just now you were calling to me
w go slower, ana now you want to
fcnrry."
"Yes, let us hurry the heat!"- And
they passed on, the ardent sun beating
-on their backs.
' As they went forward David turned
over in his thoughts the strange sight he
had seen behind them, that was behind
them now, he felt certain, though not
daring to look again, a shiver coursing
the length of his spine at the thought of
the m timed figure in that fierce heat.
And John, had he also seen it? Did he
know what came swiftly, without sound,
st their heels? He looked cautiously
from, the corner of his eye at his friend
without turning his head even slightly.
John plodded on, his eyes on the ground
and his big shoes white with the dust,
grumbling at the heat, his face dull and
expressionless.
At length they reached the cooler air
where the road climbed between the
arching trees of the forest, and John
halted to rest in the shadow. He was
older than his friend and tired more
easily.
"Now," thought David, "he will look
back and see." And he watched the
other's face narrowly.
They sat on the edge of the road, their
lega hanging down the bank. John's
(rase wandered back, down the long
stretch over which they had come, and
David waited.
But the old man only looked out from
the shadow with a half smile of satis
faction that bo much of the long journey
was over, his simple countenance placid
A, .1 T A . .TT , .... .
wiva tuo luougui. -now wmce ine road
isl" he said.
"And not many travelers on it," said
David, in half Question, still lookinc I
earnestly at his comrade's face.
"Not a creature in sight," answered
John quietly. "We have the road to
ourselves. Others are not such fools to
come out in this sun!"
David, reassured by this, turned
lowly and looked back. Just below, by
'the first tree, in full view, silent, motion
less, stood the tall figure, a little nearer
than before.
. David leaped to his feet and ran along
the steep road, stumbling, terrified.
John saw nothing, and this creature so
. erase, in puun view, xiurry, nurryi ne
called back, and ran on.
"What has come to you? Are you
crazy?" cried the old man. "One can't
pause to rest but you jump and run!"
"I 1 am not well. I want to get
home," panted David. "We have yet
far to go. We must not waste time
Testing."
your teeth chatter. We will stop at old
Andrew's and get you something. It is
this scorching day!"
' "Yes. yes; we will stop at Old An
drew's. He will cure me. It is not far,
only beyond , the next turn, where the
trees end."
"And we can take the short way home
from there', the path from the back of
his house, up 'The Bocks.' "
Again tney wanted rapiaiy onward,
the old man full of concern for his friend,
the' young man looking straight ahead.
At the border of the forest the small
brown house stood on the edge of Old
Andrew's scanty farmland, the; poor,
half barren land of these mountain
farms. Beyond the few fields that
stretched up gradually from the back ol
the house rose abruptly "The Rocks," -a
high cliff, reaching far Along the side of
the mountain, sheer, forbidding, its bald
'face crossed by a rough, narrow path
way. By using this steep way the jour
ney tothe cluster of houses above the
cliff was made much shorter than by fol
lowing the gradual, winding ascent of
the road.
The two friends turned in at eld An
drew's little gate. At the door they
were met by the farmer's wife, her
sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
"Ah! John Martin and Dave! Back
from the fair? Come in." -
"Yes, Mary, on the way home. Where
is Andrew? David here had a turn on
the road coming along below, and we
want 1 Andrew to mix him something.
The sun was too strong for him, I think."
' 'tYes, yes. Andrew! Andrew!" She
raised her voice and called into the
house over her shoulder. "Come in,
both of you. He is somewhere about.
It is cool in the house at the shady side,
and Dave can lie down there."
David: cast one brief glance backward
as he followed the others into the house.
In the road just beyond the gate, and
looking over it, stood the one that fol
lowed. Old Andrew was held in high esteem
among the mountain people as half doc
tor, half wizard, with his knowledge of
the use of roots and herbs. He brewed
a muddy, pungent tea which David
drank, and Mary, the wife, placed extra
plates at the table and insisted on the
travelers taking supper.
"Let David rest," she said, "and if he
is better after supper you can go home
in the evening by the short cut. There
will be a moon; or he may stay the night
if not strong enough to go home."
So it was arranged. Old Andrew and
'John talked together of the simple, worn
subjects of their rude lives the poverty
of the soil, the long season without rain,
the many, hardships that befall the
farmer.
The wife plied David with questions
about the town. "Was there a big crowd
at the fair? And the weather was it
fine every day? Did you see the cows
from the Duncan farm?" and so on. Da
vid answered absently, thinking of the
waiting stranger outside the gate.
When the twilight fell the young man
felt able to go on, and was anxious to
reach his family, so the two men set out
along the path through the rocky fields.
As they reached the base of "The Bocks"
and began the steep ascent the moon
rose.
John led the way, stepping cautiously,
calling back to the other to avoid the un
certain footholds.
But David, climbing after, thought of
nothing but tne somber shape that had
waited outside and had followed close
across the fields after them, and which
he felt climbed up , and up behind him,
step for step.
There was no sound, except when at
intervals a loose stone rolled down, dis
lodged by their feet. The night was beau
tiful, the broad faco of the cliff shone in
the moonlight. Here and there- along
the edge of the - path, where there was
danger, rude railings had been placed to
protect the traveler; these were silvered
by the moon. At some -places a rock
jutting out cast below it a dense shadow
amid the surrounding whiteness.
As they climbed, David tried to force
himself to turn and face the man in the
black cloak, and question him, his name,
his mission,' why he followed, gaining
steadily, step by step, but he lacked
courage. Once he had met that cold,
steady gaze; he could not brave it again.
Ha watched his comrade climb above
him slowly. Slowly he climbed after,
and, glancing down, saw the edge of the
black cloak blown upward against his
He stopped and put his hands over his
eyes. "Who are you?" he said in a low,
broken voice. "Why do you follow,
pressing nearer and nearer?"
And a voice answered at his ear, while
the folds of the cloak, blown upward,
flapped about him, "You shall know
my name when you are at the end of
your journey."
"No, now!" whispered David hoarsely.
"Now, your name!"
"Further on!" came the voice. "When
you reach the next railing."
And they climbed on again in the
moonlight. John had gone round a turn
of the path out of - sight. David ad
vanced feebly, rising laboriously from
step to step, pausing often. He could
feel the other pressing up behind him,
ever nearer.
When they reached the railing above
David stopped, with his hand upon it.
"Now, your name." -
"Do you not know?"
The moonlight fell with tender beauty
over the broad valley below, upon the
white road, upon the forest trees, upon
the small brown house at the foot of the
cliff. The black cloak floated about his
head, before his eyes, coming between
them and the fair picture. ;A hand fell
upon his, grasping the railing.
"Your name! your name!"
David's hand closed firmly on the
wooden rail, and he leaned heavily
against it for support; an arm closed
round him.
- "I am so near so near. Do you not
know?"
There was a sharp sound of breaking
wood as the rotten timber parted in two,
and David fell outward, his struggling
feet scraping along the rock. As he fell
the folds-of black swept round him, the
arm embraced him more closely and they
went down together. . And David knew
that the one that followed was Death.
Charles Edward Kinkead in Pittsburg
Bulletin.
A Perplexing; Situation.
"Hello, Willie," said a small boy as he
met a comrade in the ftreet about dusk,
"yer mother's lookin' far ye."
"Is she?"
"Yes, she's got the whole family out
and she's goin' on terrible. She says you
were the pride of her heart and was
goin' to be the comfort of her old age."
"Go "way; she didn't!"
"Honest. She says she never did see
one so smart fer yer age nor such a com
fort around the house. You'd better go
on home."
"I was hurryin' with all my might.
But are you sure she said all them
things?"
"Yes. and a lot more. Go on, she's
waitin' fer ye now."
"Well, I don't know. I tell ye, Jimmy,
I'm mighty doubtful in my mind about
whether I hadn't better stay lost."
Washington Post.
"THE HOUR OF gUNSET."
A Revolutionary Relle Whfeli Barely
Escaped the Refuse Pile. .
There was a new picture in the Na
tional museum of Independence hall
come, as it were, to be seen by strangers
from far off lands and there were facs
there to see it that had only recently
come to the shores of America. The
picture of itself, its simple cardboard,
little more than a square foot in size, its
somber print, making a curious reflection
upon its true meaning, seemed of no in
trinsic value. It had held a place be
times among the cherished relics of a
colonial estate; had been cast among
strangers, to be finally rescued from the
rubbish of an auction house to find final
rest in the hall of all halls. '
It is "The Hour of Sunset" on the
Fourth of July, 1776. Th. members of
the old Continental congress, having
signed the Declaration, are seen in the
act of leaving the hall. Hancock, dis
tinguished by his dark dress, stands on
the steps in front of the hall door, an
nouncing to a friend that the Declara
tion has just been signed. Franklin is
seen at his right, Jefferson leans against
the right pillar of the door. Adams is
conversing with Jefferson. Between
their head9 appears the face of Living
ston, and against the left pillar stands
Roger Sherman. These form the group
on the steps.
Beginning then on the left of the pict
ure, and counting every figure with nu
merals as a guide, may be discovered,
first, a citizen of the day with the famil
iar Revolutionary costume; theft Wil
son, a signer: next a citizen, and in the
order given, a Tory, another signer, a
young woman and presumably her fa
ther, the Indian who bore the Declara
tion to the carriage of Washington,
Thomas Paine, talking with Benjamin
Bush and Robert Morris, both of whom
were signers. Behind the heads of citi
zens are seen, and to the right is a crowd
of patriots, Quakers, Tories, etc., eagerly
discussing the nature and merits of the
Declaration.
For about three years the picture,
which bears the imprint of "Qroome &
Brightly," was in the possession of John
A. Keell, a well preserved man of more
than sixty years, who has lived in the
quaint two story and slant house, with
its snow white trimmings, for more than
a third of a century. He was formerly
with M. Thomas' Sons, auctioneers,
where he lost many valuable relics in
works of art by the fire which destroyed
that firm's South street house, and lat
terly has been in the employ pf Ellis &
Shaw. It was during a sale by this firm
of an old estate on Arch street, where
"The Hour of Sunset" was offered and
would not bring a song, that he himself
withdrew it at the best bid made.
Then it lay in the office of the Chest
nut street store until that house was
closed; and all the rubbish being cleared
out Mr. Keell remembered the ancient
print and saved it from the ash barrel.
He took it to the National museum,
where he thought it rightfully belonged,
as all his inquiries have failed to dis
cover one like it, and there in the an
tique case on-the west side of the room
it may be found in an obscure corner.
Philadelphia Inquirer.
Curious Oermidfc Legends.
It is a belief among the German chil
dren that hares lay the Easter eggs, and
the country children go to the woods
shortly before Easter and gather moss,
grass and twigs and form them into
nests, which they mark with their
names, and then skillfully hide these be
hind the bushes in the garden or under
the large chairs or sofas in the library or
sitting room. On Easter morning they
go and see what the hare has brought.
No one knows exactly why the hare
has been associated with Easter, though
there are many pretty legends giving
reasons, which are as fully believed by
the little German people as the stories
of the good Kris Kringle. The only dif
ference is that one comes at the Christ
mas tide, the other at the Easter festival
Both are surrounded with mystery, but
both are alike welcome, and are laughed
about and talked about many times be
fore the happy days come again. Emma
J. Gray in Good Housekeeping.
Nature's True Tonic.
One of the advantages of light gym
nastics is that the -sick and convalescent
can make what appear to be trifling ef
forts, and by them in time be restored
to active health. If too feeble to be
practically able to make but little exer
tion, try what are known as deep breath
ing movements. Lie flat upon the back,
take as long and as deep breaths as pos
sible, and while the mouth is closed
slowly throw the arms up in front and
then at the sides. Best for ten minutes.
Try again the same inhalation and ex
halation of air, the latter being pure and
fresh. After a while attempt the same
sitting up. These exercises can safely
be taken by the sick one every day sev
eral times, and the whole muscular sys
tem will be improved, just as if some
revivifying tonic had been given, a far'
better one than any charged with al
cohol or some like stimulant. Ladies'
Home Journal. '
The Way the Parmer Took It.
We are indebted ta t.h. clanrv f
some odd blunders. A country clergy
man on a certain occasion chose for his
text a Tjassafe from thA Rm-i-ntrirna
had been variously interpreted, and on
cuuciuxung aiB sermon ne said, "These
are the conclusions I have reached after
the most diligent study, but I must in
form you that the commentators dis
agree with me," He was somewhat as
tonished the next day to receive a big
bag of potatoes with the following note:
"Reverend and dear sir: You told me
this mornin' as how common tatura
didn't agree with you. I hope as how
choice kidneys does." Providence Jour
nal The Laat Desperate Resoore.
Mother Painting, music, singing; you
have learned everything, and haven't got
a husband yet We must next try paper
flower making and wood carving, and if
that is no use, you will have to learn
cooking. Der Ulk.
SNIPES & KINERSLEY,
Wholesale ana Retail Drniists.
Fine Imported, Key Wust and Domestic
OIGKAIR.
(AGENTS FORI
Don't Forget the
E0ST EjlD SjlLOOJI,
MacMali Bros, Props.
THE BEST OF
Wines, Lipors and Cigars
ALWAYS ON HAND.
E. BiYAlD CO.,
Real Estate,
Insurance,
and Itoan
AGENCY.
Opera House Bloek,3d St.
Chas. Stublingv
FBOPBIETOB OF THI
QEIll.
New Vogt Block, Second St
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL
Liquor v Dealer,
MILWAUKEE BEER ON DRAUGHT.
Health is Wealth!
Dr. E. C.Hest's Nerve anb' Bkain Treat
ment, a guaranteed specific for Hysteria, Dizzi
ness, Convulsions, Fits, Nervous Neuralgia,
Headache, Nervous Prostration caused by the use
of alcohol or tobacco. Wakefulness, Mental De
pression, Softening of the Brain, resulting in in
sanity and leading to misery, decay and death,
Premature Old Age, Barrenness, Loss of Power
in either sex, Involuntary Losses and Spermat
orrhoea caused by over exertion of the brain, self
abuse or over indulgence. Each box contains
one month's treatment, f 1.00 a box, or six boxes
for $5.00, sent by mail prepaid on receipt of price.
WE GUARANTEE SIX BOXES
To cure any case. With each order received by
us for six boxes, accompanied by 15.00, we will
send the purchaser our written guarantee to re
fund the money If the treatment does not effect
a cure. Guarantees Issued only by
BLAKELEY Si HOUGHTON,
Prescription Druggists,
175 Second St. The Dalles, Or.
YOU NUED BUT ASK
The S. B. Headache and Ltveb Cuke taken
according to directions will keep your Blood,
Liver and Kidneys in good order.
The 8. B. Cough Cube for Colds, Coughs
and Croup, in connection with the Headache
Cure, is as near perfect as anything known.
The 8. B. Alpha Pain Cube for internal and
external use, in Neuralgia, Toothache, Cramp
tuo ana unoiera Morbus, is unsurpassed. M ney
are well liked wherever known. Manufactured
it Dufur, Oregon. For sale by all druggists
C 1
'
Tiie Daiieslipicie
is here and has come to stay. It hopes
to win its way to public favor by ener
gy, industry and merit; and to this end
we ask that you give it a fair trial, and
if satisfied with1' its course a generous
support.
The Daily
four pages of six columns each, will be
issued every evening, except Sunday,
and will be delivered in the city, or sent
by mail for the moderate sum of fifty
cents a month.
Its Objects
will be to advertise the resources of the
city, and adjacent country, to assist in
developing pur industries, in extending
and opening up new channels for our
trade, in securing an open river, and in
helping THE DALLES to take her prop
er position as the
Leading City of Eastern Oregon.
The paper, both daily and weekly, will
be independent in politics, and in its
criticism of political matters, as in its
handling of local affairs, it will be
JUST. FAIR AND IMPARTIAL
We will endeavor to give all the lo
cal news, and we ask that your criticism
of our object and course, be formed from
the contents of the paper, and not from
rash assertions of outside parties.
THE WEEKLY,
sent to any address for $1.50 per year.
It will contain from four to six eight
column pasres, and we shall endeavor
to make it the equal of the best. Ask
your Postmaster for a copy, or address.
THE CHRONICLE PUB. GO.
Office, N. W. Cor. Washington and Second Sts.
THE DALLES.
The Grate City of the Inland Empire is situated at
the head of navigation on the Middle Columbia, and
is a thriving, prosperous city.
ITS TERRITORY.
It is the supply city for an extensive and rich agri
cultural an - grazing country, its trade reaching as
far south as Summer Lake, a distance of over twe
hundred miles.
THE LARGEST WOOL MARKET.
The rich grazing country along the eastern slope
of the the Cascades furnishes pasture for thousands
of sheep, the -wool from -which finds market here.
The Dalles is the largest original wool shippi
point in America, about 5,000,000 pounds bei
shipped last year. - ' .
ITS PRODUCTS.
The salmon fisheries are the finest on the Columbia,
yielding this year a revenue of $1,500,000 -which can
and -will be more than doubled in the near future.
The products of the beautiful Klickital valley find
market here, and the country south and east has this
year filled the "warehouses, and all available storage
places to overflo-wing -with their products.
ITS WEALTH
It is the richest city of its size on the coast, and its
money is scattered over and is being used to develop,
more farming country than is tributary to any olher
city in Eastern Oregon. " ..
Its situation is unsurpassed! Its climate delight
ful! Its possibilities incalculable! Its resources un
limited! And on these corner stones she stands.