WHY THEY TWINKLE.
When Eve bad led her lord aww,
And Cain had killed bia brother.
The stars and flowers, the poets say.
Agreed with one another
To cheat the cuuuiuc tempter's art.
And teach the race its duty.
By keeping on its wicked heart '
Their eyi of light and beauty.
A million sleepless lids, they say.
Will be at least a warning:
And so the flowers would watch by day.
The star from eve to morning:
On hill and prairie. Geld and lawn,'
Their dewy eyes upturning.
The flowrs still watch from reddening
dawn
Till western skies are burning.
Alas! each hour of daylight tells
A tale cf shame so crushing
That some turn white as sea bleached shells.
And some are always blushing.
But when the patient stars look down '
On all their light discovers
The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown.
The lips of lying lovers
They try to shut their saddening eyes.
And in the vain endeavor
We see them twinkling in the skies.
And so they wink forever.
-O. W. Holmes.
A MAKKIAGE FAILURE.
Gontran shook bis head aud raised his
arms with the gesture of one that has
escaped a great danger.
"It is I, yes; look at me well, for you
have uot seen me lately. I have been
cloistered, padlocked, confiscated, sup
pressed, as good as married. An acci
dent that is past, yes, but which makes
me cold to think of it Not that my
fiancee was ugly, silly or disagreeable
no, she was charming. Eighteen years
of age, blond as :t corn tassel, great shin
ing eyes that sparkled drolly and looked
you full iti the face with a gaze a little
questioning, a little wondering, as of
one that had taken her experience a lit
tle from everywhere, the world and t.h
coulisses.
"How did I find her? . Very simply, as
such things are always done when one
wishes to marry. Voila! I got up one
day in a devilish temper, stomach irrita
ble from the last night's supper, heavy
of head, empty of heart. With all this,
bad weather, cold, gray, sad, vague
ennui i- the morning; at noon, black
ennui. Nothing to do, nothing to read,
nothing to love!
" 'Zounds!' I told myself, 'it's time to
marry. If I found a family it will cer
tainly occupy me.
"I threw myself into a coape and
made for the house of my notary, an old
friend of my father, and laid the . case
before him.
" 'Do you desire a blond or brunette
wife?" said he, turning his papers.
" 'A blond I should prefer,' said L
"Why?
" 'Because Toupinette was brunette
contrast.'
"The preference appeared to him just.
He proposed to me Mile. Bertha Brivard.
" 'Prettyr
'Very pretty!'
'Whom does she resemble?
" 'No one only herself!'
" 'But see you, think well, said I, 'is
there not in the corps de ballet some face
that recalls her own?
.uo lo uaum vv ii a b m
question!'
" 'But I only ask an approximate af
firmative.' "My notary reflected.
" 'In the corps de ballet! The corps
de ballet! No.no one; but at the Bo off es
ah, yes, the little Angele!'
" 'Angele! Angele! Ravishing! She
resembles Angele, does she, your little
blond? said L 'Ah, well! Ill marry
her instanter. When will you present
me?
"Well, to skip preliminary details, we
were to see each other first at the Hotel
Continental. A charity ball for the
benefit of the shopgirls who desired te
become water color painters. A quad
rille, a waltz, two fingers of flirtation
and we should know each other suffi
ciently well to enter upon the official
parleying. An Americanism? Yes, but
one goes rapidly in such affairs.
"At the last moment, behold the ball
"They replaced it by the opera
comique. A classic presentation. The
notary preceded me to the box. Bow to
the mother, bow to the father, a flash of
the eye to the young girl! Ah! delicious,
that young girl! A genuine pastel! A
saucy little nose, rosy lips, great shining
eyes, and the darlingest little ears, be
hind which curled and clustered ten
drils of hair that shone in the gaslight
like a golden mist. Much prettier than
Angele!
"It was settled! the wedding should
be! .
. "The wedding? Yes, butv before that
realism would come the romance, the
poetry of the engagement!' To marry
thus was enchantment, and M. Brivard,
the father, a very agreeable old man,
with no other occupation than that of
detaching his coupons, had set the day
for my coming to his house, the evening
of our first meeting.
"I see still that family picture in the
Boulevard Malesherbes, the great white
and gilt salon, the usual furnishings of
the dealer a la mode, sofas from Beau
vais, richly atrocious, bronzes too gold
en, screens too gaudv, plush too glaring,
pictures too new. A luxury born of yes
terday and stamped upon the invoice!
"Bat flawlessly . exquisite, pretty
enough to eat, so to speak, her blond
head bent under the rays of the lamp,
Mile. - Bertha catting with a' Japanese
yaper knife the leaves of the last number
of The Revue dee Deux Mondes a
Oreoze reading Feuilletl
"A trifle arranged, a trifla too studied,
perhaps, this playing the family note;
htup too sentimental, but very genteel.
Genteel enough to damn a saint, and I
was not a saint.
"But, after all, what is so delicious as
the passing of the betrothal hoars? It is
the preface, the prologue, the preamble
to marriage! A preface full of beauti
ful promises! that makes one believe
What romance! What poetry! What
happiness and delight! -
"Yes, but unfortunately one must turn
the jsages.. and But that, yju see. at
the moment, was nreciseiv what I de-
sired to do, to turn the pages with all
speed, the fair white page of this young
girl's life, as yet without a trace of.cray
on. I had turned so many pajjes, you
see. that resembled iu everything those
miiTors of the restaurants, which every
body scratches with names and addresses.
"Ah! thf yonn? giri! That ignorant.
Innocent aud timid, being, exquisite and
white, white as the virgin snow! I had
found her at last, that ideal maid! How
hapxy I should be to have always beside
tne that clear regard, that ' smiling
Pionth, tint skin so satiuj and soft! 1
was fully decided I would marry, as
food, jis possible, Mile. Brivard!
"And then, every evening while pnsh-
mg my suit. I went to dine in the Bou
levard Malesherbes. to find myself again
in the white and gilt salon, with the
same bronzes, the same screens, the
same divans and easy chairs from Beau
vais, only. Mile. Bertha no longer cut
the leaves of The Revue des Deux
Mondes.
"Now she read lighter and droller
journals, filled with sketches and pic
tnrs of genteel little ladies, who greatly
resemDieu herself. Every day, too, 1
took her a bunch of flowers, roses or
white lilacs, entering daily at the same
hour the same 6hop, where, on seeing me
arrive thus and always for the same pur
pose, tne same young flower Rirl put out
her hand to the same compartment and
presented me the same roses and the
same lilacs.
"I had become a regular customer, re
garding no one and always hurried,
though it would have been very agree
able to stay and contemplate those heaps
of odorous blossoms, violets, orange
flowers, above all camellias, their petals
holding the velvety sheen of a woman's
flesh, and in that verdure young girls
trim and smiling and with the rosy tint
of living flowers. :
"1 grow idyllic. No matter! It is a
memory.
"I did not at first barbarian that I
was observe the dainty grace and the
pretty, sad face of the young fleuriste
that served me. 1 thousht onlv of
Bertha, saw only Bertha; her golden
curls danced always before my eyes.
She was a thousand times prettier than
the little Angele, and if only. I said to
myself, she wore the Morlaque costume
of the peasautress in the opera
"Angele! and that very eveninir we
turned together. Bertha and I, the leaves
of the family album. A verv mnrh
mingled album at that! Soldiers, mer
chants, parchment aunts, apopleptic un
cles, artillery colonels and a minister. A
minister, I say, as in olden times, one
always had iu one's album a grandfa
ther coifed in the skin cap of the Na
tional uuard.
'Wait,' said Bertha suddenly, closine
the covers, 'I've a better one still to enow
you." And she ran to seek it. She ran
ah! what a figure! And she brought it
this one full of actresses, singers,
danseuses: all the shoulders and busts
of the opera, all the trunks and rights of
the ballet.
"And there, sandwiched between Ju-
dic and Theo, saucy, roguish, the most
decolleted of the lot, the little Angele of
the Bouffes.
" 'And doesn't she look like me? cried
Bertha joyously; 'every one tells me
how much I resemble her. '; Seef
"And assuming the attitude of her
operatic counterpart, winking her eye
and with finger to the side of her nose,
she began to hum Bertha becran to
hum the rollicking couplets of the "Re-
tnentoir!"
"Heaven be merciful? Mile. Brivard.
daughter of M. Adolphe Brivard, com
inercial notable and former president uf
the Commercial exchange, knew tht
reportoire of the Parisian bouffes!
"I took my leave a little suffocated
this evening from the yhite and gilt
salon of the Boulevard Malesherbes.
The little Angele and the litt' Bertha
mingled strangely in my thoughts and
hopped gayly beside me like two little
puppets clad in the same costume, and,
my faith! the farther I went the less I
know if 1 was going to see Mile. Bertha
Brivard appear in the passage Choiseul,
or to marry tefore a tricolored scarf in
the precinct office the little blond
Angele of the operatic score!
''Twas just at that moment that 1
found myself at the door of the florist's
shop, where every evening I entered
regularly. They were starting to close
up, but between the azalea branches
and gilded baskets, among the deep,
waxy greens of the caoutchouc plants,
shining as if varnished under the spray
of the fountains, I perceived finishing a
bouquet, pretty as a pink in her black
robe and white collar, which brought but
so clearly the rich brunette skin, my lit
tle' flower girl,, who every day for the
past three weeks had given me the same
bouquet with the same gentle, courteous
and sad little smile that I had scarcely
noticed. ...
"And 1 staid there looking at her.
She was charming, my little friend the
flower girL Her black hair brushed
smoothly back from her forehead, and
giving to her straight, classic profile the
air of an old medallion. With it all, a
true Parisienne, sweet, dainty, piquant,
the gaslight falling on the glossy banded
hair, the fingers turning in and - out
among a heap . of . roses, which she
grouped to a harmonious whole as one
binds together the notes of a sonnet. .-.
"I saw nothing but that little white
hand, so pretty, slender, aristocratic;
and I staid there contemplating it, I,
who beyond there, had already prepared
the way to demand another! ' . : ;
"The next day I omit, you nee, the
recital of my dreams and insomnia (an
insomnia with haunting visions of flow
er girls with the aspect of Virgin Ma
donnas, and of young girls dancing lice
ballet premieres in Morlaque costumes
to the tune of the "Remontoir") the
next day, I say, we were to dine at the
house of that confounded notary. .Bertha,
her parents and L ' . ' : , .
"Well, I had as usual promised her a
bouquet; as usual I would take it to her;
she would pin it to her side and we
should depart as arranged for the dining
room of M. Bergeot.
"I entered, therefore, ad uuai the
florist's shop, and the same hand, as al
ways, stretched itself toward the clus
ters of lilacs and roses that I had always
bought there.
. " 'No, mademoiselle,' said I, it is a
cluster for the corsage, if you please,
this evening!' "' ,
"'Ahf. '
"She regarded me smilingly, her soft,
frank eyes turning from side to side,
seeking auother cluster of flowers, 'See,
monsieur, how is this?
"'A little large is it not? mademoi
selle,' said I, in truth caring nothing for
the size of the bunch, but seized with a
desire to linger indefinitely in that bower
of verdure, become all at once a para
diseof green, red and white.
"And when that pretty young girl, all
in black and so pale and amiable, said
so gently, placing the cluster against the
bosom of her own robe, 'Oh, no, mon
sieur, it is not, you see, too large!' I
could scarcely restrain myself from cry
ing aloud: 'Keep it there, mademoiselle,
I beseech you! An honest bouquet from
the hand of an honest girl! . t goes so
well with your manner, . modest and
good!
"She would have found too odd this
profession of faith. I took my flowers,
therefore, and went my way, but Mile.
Bertha, when I arrived, Lad already pro
vided herself with a corsage cluster:
" 'Being unable to count upon yours,'
said she calmly, carelessly throwing
upon a table the one I had brought her.
"So much the better I would utilize
it myself, and the single blossom I took
from the heap and pinned in my button
hole lay upon my breast and kept my
heart warm during the whole of that in
terminable dinner.
"That beastly dinner, during which it
seemed to me that the little Angele be
side me played a pointless role and I saw
opposite to me perpetually the Madonna
profile and the serious air of my little
flower girl. She it was that should have
been the fiancee. The fiancee! . Surely,
if the word had color, that color would
be white, all white, like the rose on my
breast. '
"The denouement, the denouement
--wait, it approaches.
"Gradually, as I frequented that white
and gilt salon the little Bertha made me
afraid, yes, actually afraid. And like
wise, as I frequented my florist's shop I
told myself that it was there I should
find the companion, the friend, the true
associate in happiness or pain!
"That charming child! Poor,' it was
true; doubtless an orphan, living alone
and possibly destined to marry some
shopman or railroad employee, or to
turn as turned to the wind of Paris
all those homeless beings who had no
support. How good it would be to draw
that child from this risk by drawing her
from the condition itself, by making
her my mistress, you say? No, no, I
swear it. I swear that I never thought
of it.
"My wife, then? Ah, if only I had
dared! And while not daring, slowly,
gently, politely, I detached myself from
Mile. Bertha Brivard I had nearly said
of the Bouffes Parisiennes. I left her to
her father, her white and gilt salon and
her gay "Remontoir." I sought delays,
pretexts, excuses. , In short, when one
evening M. Bergeot said to me plumply,
'We can no longer leave my friend
Brivard with his nose in the water'
great naturalists, these notaries; 'is it to
be yes or no? this time, my faith, I an
swered: ,
"Eh, bien! No, then! I am not
made for marrying!
"And I did not, as usual, set out for
the Brivard domicile.. All the same, the
same evening saw me at my florist's
shop. la place of my little flower girl
there stood another one; this one red
headed, pretty also and also polite, but
she was not the one I sought. She, they
told me, had gone away to relations in
Bourgogne. They had recalled her to
marry her. To what sot? To what beer
keg? To what vine dresser? I know
nothing I shall never know anything.
"Of my little brown flower maid I
never had known anything her name,
her age, her life. Nothing, nothing
whatever, save that she was ravishingly
pretty, with an honest air, deep eyes,
and that she handed me bouquets of
lilacs and roses with a hand white and
slender, which, on my soul, I would
have supplicated her to give me, and
which, at all events, hindered me from
taking another.
"Behold my adventure! A very sim
ple one-eh, bien! yes; but I have never
in my life had a more agreeable one. It
seems to me that I have gathered in the
midst of onr hothouse existence a flower
of the fields, whose perfume I have still
on my fingers, its sweet odor still in my
nostrils.
"Ah! I grow elegiac; but Ood bless
her, wherever she be, my little brown
flower maid, who, compared to my coco
dette of the Boulevard Malesherbes, was
like a rose on a green stem beside a tulip
on a wire one.
"Mile. Brivard, by the way, marries
tomorrow a young and skillful financier,
who has found a way to shape a fortune
that has ruined others; they will be very
happy.
"As for me, I depart this evening for
Monaco. I have lost my little Jflower
maid, bat I shall perhaps win at roulette
unlucky at love, etc. Translated from
the French of Jules Clare ti by E. C
Waggener for Short Stories.
Why the XJttle Boy Was Crying.
Marshall P. . Wilder, the humorist,
tells this story: Some people think they
haven t got much to.be thankful for,
bat they might at least be grateful that
things aren't any worse. But there's a
good many that never can be satisfied.
They remind me of a little boy that I
met in the street. He was crying ao
hard that he appealed to my sympathies.''
"Well, boy, said I, "lost your mother?
"Nope," said he. .
"Lost something else?" said I.
"Yep," said he. with a sob.
"What is it, then?" said L '-.
"I didn't feel good," sobbed he, "and
I cried, an a man give me a penny, an I
felt bad some more, an another man give
me a penny, an now I feel bad 'cause
I've lost my bellyache that made me
feel bad in the first place." .
V An Ideal Way to Lin. " : A
.k T M ' 1 , . ... ' 1
, uum a marry, quota a VlvaciOUS
young , woman the other day, "has got
to promise to give me a yacht home.
I've just been visiting some friends who
live all the year round on their yacht.
During the summer they cruise about
our northern waters and in winter go
south, taking in the Mediterranean,
Japan or Norway and Sweden by way
of occasional outings. The yacht,' a
large schooner, is gorgeously fitted and
has every needed convenience, comfort
and luxury, including a well stocked li
brary, aboard. It is an ideal existence
no calls to make, no balls, no shop
ping, no uncomfortable gowns, sunshine,
fresh air and the starlight what can
one want more?" Her Point of View in
New York Times.
Where Amber Is Found.
The largest quantity of amber is found
on the southern shore of the Baltic, be
tween Memel and Konigsberg, where it
is cast up by the action of the ground
swell after the' northerly gales. '.Jt is
also found oh the coast of Sicily, on the
shores of the Adriatic, on 'the English
beach of Norfolk . and Suffolk and at
Cape, Sable in Maryland.' -Mining for
amber in beds of brown lignite or wood
coal is carried on in Prussia, and it is
found in excavations all over Europe.
Philadelphia Times.
Lobsters Dig Clams.
There is nothing which lobsters, when
grown, are' so fond of as fresh fish.
Flounders and other bottom fishes fre
quently fall a prey to their appetite, and
sometimes they will nimbly capture
small minnows as the latter go swim
ming by. They dig clams out of the
mud or sand and crush the shells of
mussels with their claws, devouring the
soft parts. Washington Star.
N
STIPATION,
Afflicts half the Amcrlcau x.-ople yet there is
only one preparation of Sarsaparilla that acts on
the bowels and reaches this important trouble,
and that is Joy's Vegetable Eareaparilla. It re
lieves it in 24 hours, and an occasional dose
prevents return. "Vc refer by permission to C. E.
Elkingtou, 125 Locust Avenue, Ban Francisco;
J. H. Brown, Petaluma; II. S. Winn, Geary Court,
San Francisco, and hundreds of others who have
used it in constipation. One letter is a sample of
hundreds, Elkington, writes: "I have been foe
years subject to bilious headaches and constipa
tion. Have been so bad for a year back have
had to take a physic every other night or else I
would have a headache. After taking one bottle
of J. V. S., I am in splendid shape. It has done
wonderful things for me. People similarly
troubled should try ii and be convinced."
Vegetable
'Ml 0U4HI II ICS.
Most modern, in niit effective, largest bottle.
te price, si.uo. st cfur SSlOO.
For Sale by SNIPES & KINERSLY
THE DALLES. OREGOX.
UK. XL. MKKIT '
PEOPLE
Say the S. B. Cough Cure is the best
thing they ever saw". We are not
flattered for we known Real Meeit will
Wix. All we ask is an honest tiial.
For sale by all druggists. , ...
S. B. Medicine Mfg. Co.,
Dnfur. Oregon.
A Severe Law.
The English peo
ple look more closely
'to the genuineness
of these staples than
we do. In fact, they
have a law under
'Which they make
seizures and -destroy
. adulterated
products that are
not what they are represented to be. Under
this statute thousands of pounds of tea have
been bnrned because of their wholesale adal
teration. ' ' Tea, by the way, is one of the most notori
ously adulterated articles of commerce. Not
alone are the bright, shiny green teas artifi
cially colored, but thousands of ponnds of
substitutes for tea leaves are used to swell
the bulk of cheap teas; ash, sloe, and willow
leaves being those most commonly used.
Again, sweepings from tea warehouses are
colored and sold as tea. Even exhausted tea
leaves gathered from the tea-houses are kept,
dried, and madeoverand find their way into
the cheap teas.
. The English government attempts to stamp'
this out by confiscation; but no tea is too
' poor tor us, and the result is. tbat probably
the poorest teas used by any nation are those
consumed in America. '- ' '
Beech's Tea is -presented with the guar
anty that it Uuncolored and unadulterated;
- In fact, the sun-cured tea leaf pare 'and aim
pie. Its purity insures superior - strength,
about one third less of it being required for
an illusion than of the artificial teas, and its
fragrance add exquisite flavor is at -once ap
. parent. It will be a revelation to yon. lln:
order that its purity and qaality may be gaar-
- anteedV It is soil only in pomnd packages
' bearing this trade-mark-: ;'; , jj-J i -
CO
Joy
Tore AsMhocidJ
Price eoc per poand. Sot sale at
Xieslle 33-ixntlz'sS,
THE DALLES, OREGOIO
Tne Danes onroniele
Of the Leading City of Eastern Oregon. -
During the little over a year of its existence it
has earnestly tried to ftillfil the objects for which it
was founded, namely, to assist in developing our
industries, to advertise the resources of the city and
adjacent country and to work for an open river to
the sea. Its record is before the people and the
phenomenal support it has received is accepted as the
expression of their approval. Independent in every
thing, neutral in nothing, it will live only to fight
for what it believes to be just and ri ht.
Commencing with the first number of the second
vc lume the weekly has been enlarged to eight pages
whilethe price ($1.50 a year) remains the same.
Thus boththe weekly and daily editions contain
moi spreading matter for less, money than any paper,
published in the county.
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