Corvallis gazette., August 28, 1903, Image 4

POPE PIUS X.
IN THE ORCHARD.
Oh! here, beneath this roof of green,
I throw me down and dream again
The golden dreams of what has been
And future harvests yet to gain! .
The wheat waves in the field close by,
An apple, ripened ere its time,
Drops from the tree, the sun's great eye
Seeks through the leaves, and, as I
rhyme,
The. birds weave to and fro and sing
The very songs I would declare.
And now and then the branches swing
Stirred gently by a wandering air.
The binders, clicking in the wheat.
The whistle of a passing train,
The distant noises of the street.
Are to my song a low refrain.
To-day! To-day I rest at ease
And pick the golden fruits that grow
In solitude on twigs of pence
The fruits that only dreamers know.
New York News.
UNGLE MARTIN'S MONEY.
,OSEVILLE was asleep in the
dullness of Sunday afternoon.
'In Mrs. Maloney's sitting room
there was the odor of strong tea. and
that meant that Mrs. Burns and Mrs.
Ryan had stayed over after mass for
dinner aud were having a friendly cup
of tea before they started homeward
with their husbanls. The men them
selves were hanging about the village
sjmewhere. There had been silence for
some minutes a heavy, thoughtful
silence after Mrs. Maloney's last re
mark. The good women were relatives,
cousins In the first degree. aDd Mrs.
Maloney had beea talking of their ma
te: nal uncle.
It's a perfect shame," she had said.
' Uncle Martin has a good deal of
m iney saved up, I am sure. He won't
spend It himself and he won't give
anybody else a chance at It, and, like
as not, when he dies, he'll leave it to
Father Shanahan for something or
other that he happens to take into his
head. Martin's getting dreadful pious
in his old days, since he's been living
alone in the little house."
"He hasn't it hf any bank at Falr
brooke," said Mrs. Ryan, "because Pat
has asked."
"Like as not," Mrs. Burns said, "he
has it hid in the house somewhere:
He's that queer about It, you never
can tell. He's always wishing he bad
money enough for a trip to Chicago.
But the Lord knows that it is he that
could go if he wanted to. Not a chick
ncr a child to hold him."
. Mis. Maloney looked thoughtfu'.ly at
the speaker. "I saw him get in with
the McGoverns after mass. He was
going out to the farm to dinner' with
them. We might walk over to the
house, and if he's in, give hira. a ''little
visit. If he isn't " 1
"The key is under the doormat,"
said Mrs. Burns.
And over to Uncle Martin's the gocd
ladies went. He was not at home,
and the key was under the mat. The
house, though generally dean, had ihs
air of being managed by a man, which
women see at once. The pipe was laid
away with the cups and saucers, and
a pair of shoes stood prominently on
one of the chairs. But none of them
had any eyes for these Incongruities
1 5-day.
. ?'How much," said Mrs. Maloney,
"do you think he might have?" as she
drew out a drawer of the ola bureau
and began going through it.
"A thousand or so," said Mrs. Burns,
from the d?pth of an old rag bag.
' I don't believe it's that much," ea'd
Mrs. Ryan, as she went through the
old cans and jugs stored away In the
claset.
They were so busy that they did not
hear a step outside, just as the three
of them concluded to look through the
cornshucks in the tick.
But all their digging brought forth
nothing but a few cents laid away fir
rjady change, less than a dollar alto
gether. . -
Red In the face with hurry, and a
I ttle bit ashamed, too. they put things
back as best they could.
"I wonder where he - has It, any
way?" 'Do ycu suppose it. is that he really
hasn't any, as he says?" said Mrs.
Burns.
"Pshaw!" said Mrs. Maloney, skep
tically. ' ' ' " ; '.' ':
The next morning, however, Mrs.
Maloney was to have more exact
knowledge as to the amount of Uncle
Martin s money. Her husband, who
was the village constable, along with
being the biggest storekeeper, came
in to her excitedly.
"Uncle Martin was just In the store,
and he says somebody has stolen his
money. He says there were signs of
somebody being In his p!ace when he
came home yesterday evening, and he
thinks he can find out who It was."
Mrs. Maloney was skimming the
soup, and she , almost dropped the
ladle. After a few moments she
managed to control herself enough to
ask:
"How much does he say he had?"
"One hundred and fifty dell.rs. I
xvould have thought he'd have had
pore." But Mrs. Maloney made no
protest. She was suddenly thankful
1 hat the old man was satisfied with
that.
"And then, think," went on i her
husband, "of the shame on the town.
There hasn't been anybody in the Jail
for more than five years not since "
Mrs. Maloney Interrupted ; him:
"What's Uncle Martin going to . do
about it?" ' ..
"He's gone off to see if he can get
some evidence. He has a suspicion
who it is; he's going to be gone until
this evening, aud then he's to let me
know. He's"
A summons, from the store came just
then, and Mrs. Maloney was, fortu
nately, left alone.
- "He must have seen us," she moan
ed, as she dropped Into a chair.
After dinner she went out ar.d hitch
ed Jenny to the road cart, telling her
husband that she was going for a lit
tle drive: Once out of sight, however,
sbo made Jenny fly.
There were tears and gnashing of
teeth in the Burns : and the Ryan
households, but in the end the butter
money was produced and, added to
what Mrs. Maloney had saved by odd
dressmaking jobs in th Tillage, the
I ,
k v r t r i saw iv
Adurol Developer. Adurol without alkali gives an excellent developer.
Water, sulphite of soda and adurol form the working solution, which gives
excellent shadows without the slightest fog. Only when under-exposed, the
usual quantity of alkali should be added to the developer. The picture ap
pears slowly, taking even as much as a minute, when over-exposed. Bro
mide of potassium is a good retarder for adurol. In the collodion-emulsion
process adurol has the great advantage of hydrochinone. preventing the
settlement of any impure matter at less pure places. A great advantage is
also the strong Insensibility of the materials toward the carbonic acid of the
atmosphere. Photo. Times. '
Window Transparencies. Old cast-off negatives can excellently be made
use of. A strong fixing soda solution, to which Is added-an abundant quanti
ty of red prussiate of potassium, is prepared as reducer, and iu this prepara
tion they are left until the old pictures have entirely disappeared.. The plates
are then well washed and dried. For sensitizing, the ordinary blue solution,
consisting of equal parts of a solution of green oxide of iron ammonia and
red prussiate of potassium, is applied. (The formula for this will follow at
the end.) The bath should act for at least five to six minutes, after which
the plates are taken out. and are placed In a dark room to dry. On the
following day print under a negative. The exposure should not be too short,'
and a little overexposure will do no. harm. When the plate is taken from
the printing-frame, put it, film side up, in a tray with water, and the dia
positive will almost at once appear clearly. If the exposure was too long
the shadows will remain yellow; but this will do no harm, as the further
treatment will make this discoloration disappear again. . Prepare now & so
lution of ordinary soda (about 10 per cent.) and bathe the well-washed dia
positlve. -It seems to disappear completely, the whole picture becomes yel
low and thin. Now wash again thoroughly; and put the plate in very di
luted muriatic acid about 1 to 80 and you will be astonished how slow and
handsome the blue picture is building up. As soon as the desired Intensity
has been obtained, wash again and dry on a rack. The formula for prepar
ing the blue solution is according to Professor Valenta:
Solution 1 Red prussiate of potassium, 4.5 g.; distilled water, 50 g. So
lution 2 Green citric oxide of iron ammonia, 12.5 g.; distilled water, 50 g.
Equal parts of Solutions 1 and 2 are mixed. For a few 9x12 plates 30 to 40
c. c. m. sensitizing solution are sufficient. Photographic Times.
guilty" women managed to get the 5150
together.
Toward six o'clock Mrs. Mai .ney
slipped into Martin's little house, and
put the money Into the tick. The next
morning early, when the Maloneys
were "at their breakfast, Uncle Martin
appeared,1 chuckling. 'It was In the
straw tick," he reported truthfully
enough. "Moved about a little. I
guess I've made up my mind to take
that trip to Chicago. I am so glad
after my scare that I feel like cele
brating. And you never can tell what
may happen," he went on, chuckling
anew, and looking at his niece.
"That's right, that's right," said her
husband "You might as well have
the good of it yourself. You worked
hard enough for it."
Mrs. Maloney choked, and set down
the cup of coffee she was drinking,
and Tose hastily from the table. Uncle
Martin looked on cyrnpathMK ally.
But the chagrined and angry woman
had one consolation. She knew that
there were two others no less uncom
fortable than she to find the old man
going merrily to Chicago . on their
hard-earned money.
Alas, curiosity Is the ancient sin of
woman, and it seems to, take many
lessons to break her of It. New Yrk
News. ' -
JIM KEENE.
Who Hai Bad Hla Upi and Downs in
Speculation.
Jim Keene, the well-known broker,
who was recently squeezed to the tune
of $2,000,000 in Wall sireet, knows the
tips and clowns cf
the market. In 1884
he suspended pay
ment after losing a
fortune of $7,000,000
in six months. Only
six years before he
had arrived, in New
Y o r k from , San
Francisco, where he
had met with great
success la his f pec
JIM" Ki-ENK.
ulations. In Cali
fornia Keene had risen from nothing
to an estate of $1,000,000. had lost that
In a flash, and then by a succession of
bold ventures had brought himself to
an eminence which carried a rating of
$5,000,000 when he moved, to New
York., His first combination was with
Jay Gould, with whom he engaged in
fighting Western Union with Atlantic
and Pacific Telegraph. While they
profited Iu this campaign, he broke
with Gould shortly afterwards," alleg
ing that Gould had gone back on his
friends and sold them out in the mid
dle of a deal. Gould, on the other
hand, declared that Keene had played
him a shabby trick. It was at this
lime that Keene expressed the , opin
ion that Gould was the wlckc-d;t man
in ihewirld. '.
Keene had benped up, his profits in
cash and was known to have as much
matrar
ft
rapfuj
as $9,000,000 in currency when' he un
dertook to corner the wheat market.
An attempt to bull Jersey Central
stocks, conducted at the same time as
the wheat corner, was similarly un
profitable, for the stock went down
f rty points In , one day. Whether
Keene might" have succeeded in his
wheat corner or not will never posi
tively be known, for the attempt mis
carried when a forged telegram was
sent from New York to his Chicago
brokers ordering them to sell 2X0X000
bushels of wheat. They threw it on
the market, it became known that
Keene was selling, and before all the
evils had been reckoned with Keene
was $6,000,000 loser on wheat. Jers.y
Central "cct him over $1,000,000.
Keene came back in 1S80, wh?n
stocks took an upward trend and he d
it, and those who had expected to see
him wane noted his return to fortune's
favor in a more lavish form than he
had ever enjoyed it. His wealth on pa
per rose to $23,000,000. He then went
Into every game In the market, and
the see-saw of the street and of other
men's brains in conflict with his stead
ily wore down his fortune so that in
April, 1881, he was believed to be at
the end of the road. He went on des
perately, rallying by an occasional
coup,- but being overwhelmed by the
collapse of a deal in Northern Pacific.
He then took to "dealing In privileges,"
and he sold these so recklessly and
the market turned so " unfortunately
that he entangled himself beyond hepe
of redemption, and in 1884 . faiicd
again.
Mr. Keene got back Into the market
again, and .when success came to him
he-paid all the debts that were out
standing when he suspended in 1S84.
He turned bull as .stocks made unprec
edented advance's with the incoming
of this century and was credited with
getting out at a profit. His bear cam
paigns were the losing ventures of his
recent years.' He was assailed bitterly
by the Brooklyn Rapid Transit man
agement in 1S99 and was charged with
being the source of the rumors affect
ing that stock.
Underground Station in Par's. -
An extraordinary piece of engineer
ing is begun by the . municipality of
Paris, " which will - keep- the" Place" de
l'Opera closed, for nearly a year, and
when it 'is reopened" it will have be-
neath It an' underground metropolitan
railway station of three floors, where
the several lines will intersect on the
different levels. Metallic flooring will
separate the three lines, and wiH sup
port the roadway. The lowest line is
twenty-one meters deep, but as watejr
is reached at a depth of ten meters, a
large part of the work . will be done
by means of compressed air compart
ments, measuring eight by twenty-five
meters. " .
Inhabitans of New Mexico believe in
a future State.
GIUSEPPE SARTO POPE PIUS X. , .
Born at Riese, Province of Venice, Italy June 2, 1835
Educated in the seminaries of Treviso and Padua................. .1848-1856
A student at the Sacra Theologla, Rome 1856-1858
Ordained as a priest . . . . . . . . . . ... .. . .Sept. 18, 1858
Appointed parish priest at Salzano. .1837
Elected Chancellor of the Bishopric of Treviso. 1875
Appointed Bishop of Mantua. Nov. 10, 1884
Mad a Cardinal Priest. ... .it. .June 12, 1893
Recegnized by Pope Leo as Patriarch of Venice... .......June 15, 1893
Elected Pope .Aug. 4. 1903
The new head of the Catholic Church, Cardinal Joseph Sarto, who haa
taken the title of Pius X, ascends the Papal throne at the sai8evage as his
predecessor. Pope Leo XIII. He brings to that exalted office the same noble
qualities as those of the departed Pontiff. He has been distinguished for
his learning, the purity of his life and hi liberal Ideas, so that there will
probably be little change in the policy of the Holy See. either 1n its internal
administration or in Jts broader relations to the world at large.
The election of Cardinal Sarto, since 1893 the patriarch of Venice, was
somewhat of a surprise. His name was not prominently mentioned among
those who, in the popular estimate, wore likely to be chosen. He was men
tioned, however, as a compromise candidate. '
The election apparently gives world-wide satisfaction. The church in
France and Germany favors the choice and here in the United States the
leaders of the hierarhcy say that no more acceptable person could be se
lected. - Thus the new Pontiff enters upon his duties amil general expression
of good will. '" , ,
Cardinal Sarto was born at Rieser Province of Venice, June 2, 1835. In
1893 he was created Cardinal and Patriarch of Venice. He Jias had a wide
reputation for his learning, especially in ecclesiastical affairs, and has been
noted as a good organizer and administrator qualities which are requisite in
Papal affairs. He is a liberal patran of the arts, as so many of his prede
cessors have been, and despite his 68 years Is a man of energy and activity.
Cardinal Sarto belonged to the ecclesiastical congregations of bishops and
regulars, sacred rites, indulgences and sacred relics. He enjoyed great pop
ularity in his diocese. . He is honored by all for his purity, for the strict up
rightness of his life, and for liberal, ideas. He is a modest and agreeable
man, highly cultivated and very kind hearted. He has never taken great part
in the political and public life of the church; but divided bis time between
study and .good works,-, -Although most faithfujto the. Holy. Se he was pre
sented to the King and Queen of Italy In Venice. He was considered among
the most liberal members of the Italian episcopate and Sacred College.
' Although little is known of the new Pope's political tendencies, he is con
sidered to be one likely to avoid conflicts and to continue the moderate pol
icy of Pope Leo and Cardinal Rampolla. Officials in Rome recall his tactful
course in receiving the King and Queen of Italy at, Venice, which removed,
much of the friction hitherto existing, and led to a warm friendship between
Sarto and Queen Helena. This Incident is cited as an evidence of his concil
iatory disposition and the likelihood of no material change taking place In the'
policy of the Vatican. The new Pope is one of the'greatest preachers of the
church." ' , ,
UTAH CAPTAIN OF INDUSTRY.
A. B. Uwli, tVho Is Interested in a
$30,000,000 Enterprise.
; One of the prominent men in the in
dustrial world, about whom little Is
said in the'Bast. is State Senator A. B.
Lewis,' of Utah,
who is associated
with United States
Senator Clark, of
Montana, In a $30,
000,000 . organiza
tion for the devel
opment of the great
coal and iron fields
in . the southern
part ofjUtah. Mr.
Lewis has been at
-m
a. b. LEWis. tne neaa ui um
large enterprises in the West, particu
larly in the mining development of his
State; and in some of these his success
has been made the more striking be
cause of treniendous prejudice and op
position, which he was forced to over
come. Mr. Lewis' election to the State
Senate was a tribute from the men
whom he employed In copper mines,
which he controlled Fh the southern
part of Utah. Without the knowledge
of their employer the miners organized
the convention in his senatorial dis
trict and secured his election by an
overwhelming majority. Mr, Lewis
has been prominently mentioned as the
next new: representative from Utah- in
the Senate of the United States. .
Does the Rattler Talk?
"What Is a rattlesnake's rattle for?"
said John Lover, the zoo keeper, in re
sponse to a question by a Philadelphia
Record, man. .;,;k: , ,;-U--",.-1,v -;
"It is a call," he resumed, answering
his own question. "The rattlesnake
with it calls his mate. A man was
telling ' me the other ' day ' that he
studied the rattle question last year in
the West.7 He said it is mainly as a
call that the rattle is used, though dif
ferent sounds can be made with it.
j and these sounds appear to have differ-
j ent meanings. ; .
"Once this man saw seven hogs at
tack a rattlesnake. . The reptile began
jto fight pluckily.and while he. fought
jbe rattled loud ana long, xnree other
snakes came with great speed and
courage to his- aid. A dreadful battle
followed. The snakes, though they
fought well were all killed. ',
. "The rattle is also said to charm or
hypnotize birds so that the snake can
seize them easily, but in this story my
friend doesn't take much stock. It's
as a call, he says, that the rattle is
used, most a love call,, generally with
which the male snake summons his
mate."
Military Marriages.
A privilege enjoyed by girls who
marry officers of the Brigade of
Guards is ' that of being ' married In
the chapel in the enclosure at Wel
lington Barracks. The outside Is un
lovely and unpretentious, but Inside
all Is beautiful. The decorations, mu
ral and otherwise, : the stained glass,
and the furniture of this little gem
of military chapels all serve to me
moralize dead , and gone Guardsmen,
the majority of whom have signally
served their country.. There Is no or
gan, the Instrumental part cf the serv
ice being entrusted to one of the mili
tary bands, usually that of the regi
ment in which the bridegroom belongs.
The voluntaries' and the march at the
close of the service are similarly ren
dered. .'
Cold April Every lOO Years.
' French meteorologists have worked
out the theory that exceptionally frig
Id Aprils occur at Intervals of exactly
100 years. In' April, 1S03, the gutters
were frozen and snow fell in Paris.
In April, i 1703, the price of wood rose
and people died of cold In the streets,
while a chronicler of the period writes:
"There is snow at VersalJes and we
are perishing of cold at Paris at a
'Season-if-when "the' sun ought to be
warming us. The north winds afflict
us, bringing us cold from the moun
tains." Documentary evidence Is not
needed to prove that April, 1903, wa;
also distinguished by low ' tempera
tures. ',;-:iV '- .-; .' : r
.
. No Pleasing Him, -
Mother Tommy, what's the matter
with your little brother?
Tommy He's crying because I'm
eating my cake and won't give him
any. -
Mother Is his Own cake finished?
Tommy Yes'm, and 'he cried while
I was eating that, ; too. Philadelphia
Ledger. .t . . .
Plain. .
Naturally when the Young Person
found herself making Somebody Such
a Good Wife her womanly instinct was
startled. . ' '
"Am I so dreadfully plain as that?"
she exclaimed, and from that hour lost
interest In Jife. Detroit Free Press.
Highest Tower in the World
The, highest tower in the world, 750
feet high, will be erected at the Cen
tral station in New York City. ' .
(i rta tf'HVt
I IftHT AfUn QHAEF O
no INETTE'S eyes bespoke an- ap
JmI proachlng storm. fcA fair wom
an again T' she muttered - half
audibly as she gathered up the cards
impatiently to throw for the last time
which should decide if she were right
to doubt Cecil's loyalty. Fearing to
learn the worst, yet determined" to
know the troth at any cost, Ninette,
the dark-eyed artist's model, spread
out the fortune-telling cards on the
pedestal before her, while she awaited
the coming of Cecil Thome, master of
the studio and of her heart.
"Ah! This is better" with a smile
of satisfaction "why, here Is gool
luck again! Perhaps, after all, Cecil
is true. -.lf I could only understand
their language! But he never speaks
to her In French. Courage, Ninette!
the last card's tell your story. Is It a
fair lady or a dark girl who is loved
by Cecil? Dieu!"
- The "fair lady's card" had turned
again, ai.d Ninelte burst inco a fresh
deluge of tears just as the false Cecil
swung open the siudlo door and, with
out obesrving the crouching figure of
Ninette, began to whistle a merry air.
'How can you whistle when I am so
miserable?" said Ninette between her
sobs. .
"Why, bless my soul, Ninette, I nev
er saw you!"
. ."You have no eyes for me. You
would have seen another if she had
been here."
i "Another would not have kept so
silent, perhaps and tears, too! Now
this is tiresome, when I have had such
' a turn of good luck. Listen, Ninette,
and dry your eyes. . My picture "
"Of me?' '
"No, no the great one, 'The Dawn.'
will be exhibited. Then If luck comes
our way, as Is sure to happen, we can
be you know .what!"
Cecil drew Ninette to him In affec
tionate embrace, too elated with his
jwn hope of prosperity to question
further the cause of tears. Ninettes
doubts vanished somewhat as the ten
der avowals of love fell from the lips
of her lover. She could not believe
him quite false, and yet why did he
not exhibit her portrait In the salon.
Could not -"Dawn" have black hair as
well as golden, and surelythe fair lady"
was not otherwise more beautiful than
' she. ' ' "
j Cecil Interrupted the unpleasant rev
erie with, "Ninette, do you know I
believe my love for you has made me
a better painter.! M. de Thales was
. here this morning and said the warmth
and soul of The- Dawn were extra
" ordinary." . i ' s ' i '."--.;
. The announcement that love for her
! bad aided him in putting warmth and
soul into the eyes of another- woman
was not comforting to IClnette, . and.
' she broke from' his embrace Impatient
ly. Catching up her 'broad brimmed
hat,' she dashed out of the studio and
shut herself In her own little chamber,
which was en the ground floor.
"The little vixen!' laughed Cecil.
"I supppose old Gretha gave her a bad
breakfast this , morning. She did not
seem properly pleased with the possi
bility of your being ' soon Ah,
Julia! I am glad you have come. The
picture is nearly ' finished and such
good news! De Thales was here this
morning and was delighted. Why do
you look at the door-are you afraid
of ghosts following you in?' '
"No, Cecil, but do you know, I have
a strange feeling of fear sometimes
wnen I see Ninette! She peered at tne
to-day as I came up the stairs, and her
black eyes looked like those of a ti
gress.' Cecil, that girl is dangerous! I
hope she Isn't fond of you; you know
that is easily possible with these
French ceratures of impulse."
"O, that is just like you women," re
plied lightly that excellent judge of
feminine emotion: "always suspicious
of another woman's love. Well, I can
tell you one thing, Julia; Ninette's love
is less dangerous than her hate, al
though! should not like to trifle with
either. But I, who so thoroughly un
derstand Ninette, shall take care that
no danger attends her love for me.'1
- Ninette-had crept from her chamber
and was listening at the keyhole of
the studio with hot breath and angry
eyes. How tender his, voice! ,. Almost
the only English word " that Ninette
knew was "dear," and she heard him
apply it to Julia the fair-haired. She
felt she could burst 'With Jealous pas
sion, but ' at 1 this moment she heard
familiar voices on the steps and sev
eral comrades stood, before her. .?. ' '
"Good-morning, Nina!" exclaimed
the foremost on beholding the model,
whom all knew to be a favorite with
Cecil, and, locking bis arm familiarly
in hers, they entered the studio, , fol
lowed by the others.
"Hello, Thorne just heard of your
luck, my boy! Give us a shake of the
hand, old chap, before you get too
high up in the world to recognizze old
friends. . Lefs have a holiday now In
celebration. 1 Come out of the studio
after to-morrow yon will be too grand
for frivolities." A '; f ; -Julia
arose . and smiled assent.
"Do, Cecil; you work? much .too
hard. It will do you good. Good-morning,
gentlemen; good-by, Cecil Ni
nette!"; The "last was an exclamation,
not a greeting.
THE GBEAT ONE, "THE DAWN."
0
Ninette was glaring from her- dark
eyes, and Julia involuntarily shudder
ed as she lifted her rich silken gown
and swept down the stairs.
"O, If I knew how to speak French
I would let the little . French demon
know she must not stare at me so in
solently. Poor Ninette! I hope her
love for Cecil will not Interfere with
his work, but I am the last person
In the world who ought to blame her
for loving him." - ' '
Careless and free as . are only the
pleasure-loving American artists who
alternate the study of art with that of
"La Vie". In the Eden of both, Cecil
Thorne and h s companions made th
cafes in the Latin quarter of Paris rin.
with their merriment untl a late hour,
when' Cecil returned to his lodging, in
toxicated with the thought of the mor
row. He spent a half hour or so In his
studio, and after making a few final
arrangements started for his attic bed
room. As he passed the door of Ni
nette's aprtments he wondered if she
slept. Then, at a sudden recollection
of his hopes and all they meant to him,
he broke into a merry whistle and
mounted light-heartedly to his own
doer. His burst of merriment was the
last straw.
"To-morrow," she thought. "I will
not forget that I have helped yotf to
put" warmth and soul Into her eyes!
You think you shall find fame to-morrow,
and that the fair-haired, cold
hearted girl will help you to rejoice;
but you do not know Ninette!"
Springing from -her couch, she felt
for matches, but could find none. "No
matter," she said. "I know the easel
well. Have I not watched him" bend
ing over It as though he. loved the
canvas Itself? Dleu! you should have
exhibited Ninette." Noiselessly, . in-'
dlctively, she groped her way along
the dark passage into the studio.' Not
even a moonbeam to assist her feet
over the cold stone floor. "Ha the
easel!" she gave a little cry of pain
as her tender foot came in contact
with the sharp edge. Then, seizing a.
wet brush, with delicious Joy she drew
it again and agam across the picture,
smearing . beyond ; recognition every
corner of the canvas. "There!" she
said as she threw down the brush and
started to leave the studio. "There!
Mile. Yellow Hair I hate golden hair
at least, I should hate it If Cecil had
not golden hair."
The thought of Cecil's fair hair,
which she had so often covered with
ardent kisses, recalled her to a mo
ment of sudden reproach. What had
she done? She, who pretended to love
Cecil, had destroyed the result of a
whole half-year's toil and his hope of
fortune, and perhaps yes, that selfish
"perhaps" swept over her with over
whelming force, and the little criminal
crept back to her chamber, threw her
self upon her couch, and there remain
ed till her restless slumber was dis-'
turbed by the sound of Cecil's foot
step entering the studio.
She awoke with a start. He was
walking towards the easel. She dared
not go to him; she wsuld wait till the
first outburst of his passion had pass
ed. For a long time there was abso
lute silence in the studio. At last, un
able to bear the suspense, she timidly
opened the studio door and looked in.
All trace of the defiant insolence which
made her so bewitching had vanished,
and she paused submissively, awaiting
the volley of reproof which she so
richly deserved. Instead of this, Cecil .
smiled at beholding her and advanced
to meet her, and she felt half afraid.
.4?Ah, there you are, ma chere. Come
and see what some villainous hand has
done." : : 1
"No, no," answered Ninette, ; still
.questioning his canity. "I cannot look
upon It. O, Cecil, you have driven me
mad with jealousy!"
"Jealousy, ma chere? What on earth
are you talking about? Do you not;
believe that I love you -fondly devot
edly "
Stop! : You call her 'dear.' Cecil,
answer me this do. you love the fair
Julia who sits for The Dawn?'" "-
"Love her of course I do but not'
as I love you."
"There, you confess! I will not share
your love with her. I was sorry I d:d
it, but now I am glad glad! You
would be famous with her portrait,
and she would be glad with you. Is
It not so? You dare not deny it!"
"Why, Ninette, bow strangely you
talk! Would she not be an unnatural
woman not to be glad of her brother's
success?" -
"Brother!" almost shrieked Ninette..
"Brother? She is your sister, Cecil?"
"My dear child, do you mean to tell
me you have not known that?"
. "Why have you never told me that .
before?"
."Why, Ninette, I never dreamed that
you did not know It. Every one else
knows it, and you have never spoken
of this before."
"No, I could not bear to speak of
her, and I heard nothing of your talk
I do not understand your English
talk. And now O. Cecil! Cecil! the
pTcture-the villainous hand "
"O, yes! to be sure; I nearly forgot
the picture with your wild talk. I say,
Ninette, what a good thing The
Dawn' had been removed from the
easel!" r..-
Ninette burst Into a loud laugh.
"Removed? Say It again, Cecil! It
was removed, and it was not her picy
ture that I O, what would you
nave done?" 4
, Then the painter , realized . for the
first time what she had intended to,
do. -V .. , ; ' . . .j
"You little vixen!" he said seriously,
"did you do It, and did you mean to
spoil 'The Dawn? Ah, Ninette, you
are really too bad!" " . '
But she was not listening. She knew
how to make her peace with him.
Chicago Tribune, - -.
Certain of One Thing. ,.. ; (.
"Does you b'lieve de devil tides a
white hossr - ' ;
"Dunno. But I knows dis much:
Whatever hoss he rides will sho' git
dar." Atlanta Constitution. '
When anyone complains a great deal
m 1 4 . 1 n .tin