Second Cousin 5arah
BY TEE AUTHOR r
2T "AKNE J VOCE. SPINSTER," "LITTLE MATE EIREY."
ETC..
CHAPTER XVIIL (Continued.)
She had gone deeper than this into
thought before the prudent man above
stairs had finished the last will and testa
ment of Sarah Eastbell. She had forgot
ten all danger in her love-dream, hut she
awoke suddenly to it at finding a figure
standing at her elbow, wan and ghost
like, a something from the other world
she verily believed in her first surprise
and horror. Two years ago this being
had lived ronly to-night she had heard
that she was dead and she sprang up
and went back with hands spread out
against the wall, too terrified to scream.
"Hush! don't make a row don't you
-know me?" croaked the haggard figure
huskily.
"Sophy Tom's wife!" ejaculated
Sarah Eastbell.
"Yes but not dead yet oh, dear, no
black as Tom's coat is!" she whisper
ed back.
Sarah glanced at her. She had not
yet recovered from the shock, and the
woman was terribly forlorn and ragged,
with a death's-head gleaming from a bat
tered black straw bonnet.
"How did you obtain admittance to
the house?"
"Through that window it was unfast
ened." "You have come in search of Tom?"
"No, no to warn you of a dangerof
an awful danger, as I live, Sally, to you
and your grandmother! I can't tell you
here I daren't be seen by Tom," she
whispered still, "he would kill me If he
found me at his heels. Outside in the
garden I can breathe a bit."
"I will come with you."
Sarah followed Mrs. Tom Eastbell,
who walked very feebly, into the garden,
where a little while ago she had seen
Miss Holland and Captain Peterson to
gether. Was this a further installment
of the mystery about her V or in the
shadows of the night would she approach
closer to the truth? In thinking of Reu
ben Culwick, and forgetting everything
else, what valuable time might she not
have lost? she who should have been
watchful at all hazards of the men who
she knew were dangerous.
Thus from one mystery to another
passed Second-cousin Sarah.
CHAPTER XIX.
The will of Sarah Eastbell was com
pleted, and Hartley, the maid, and a
second servant were introduced into the
room to witness the old lady's effort at a
signature.
"It's a good thing done, after all,"
muttered Mrs. Eastbell as she lay down
wearily.
"It's brief and unlawyer-like," said
Reuben, contemplating the will, "but I
think it sets forth your intentions clearly,
aunt. What shall I do with it?"
"Lock it in that iron box; the key is
tinder my pillow," said Mrs. Eastbell.
Reuben found the key, and locked np
the will, restoring the key to its place
beneath his aunt's head.
It had been a day of more than ordi-
' a -. . . . .
nnry laugue ana excitement to Mrs.
Eastbell, and she was tired out; sleep
was life to a woman of her age, and he
would not trouble her again concerning
the granddaughter, or ask her any ques
tions respecting the engagement. There
would be time enough to-morrow to con
sider that and Sarah was waiting for
him.
r Reuben went downstairs thoughtfally.
He had almost resolved to proceed to the
gallery in the first place, but the tempta
tion was too strong to seek out his second
cousin, who would surely be in the draw
ing room awaiting him. He had a great
deal to tell her now, and a little to ex
plain concerning his past misonthropy,
which had grown more strongly develop
ed as she at last seemed to fade away
more completely from him. A real hero
ine had his Second-cousin Sarah proved
herself to be; he wished that he had been
more of a hero to match, that he had
mere bravely endured the inevitable. She
did not know yet what an obstinate and
bad-tempered man he was, and how he
had qunrreled with everybody in turn
lifter his father's death. He went into
the drawing room full of these odd reso
lutions, and found Mary Holland there.
"Where is Sarah?" he asked, after a
glance round the room had assured him
of the absence of his second-cousin.
"Sarah?" said Miss Holland, springing
to her feet. "Has she not been with you
In Mrs. Eastbell's room?"
"She left it half an hour since."
"Wait an instant"
Mary Holland left the room; and Reu
ben remained, with a new perplexity to
battle with, and rising doubts and fears
to beat down.
Mary Holland entered the room again,
and was standing at the door, a palei
and more affected woman than when he
had seen her a few minutes since.
"Gone!" she said at last.
"What do you mean?"
"That that Sarah Eastbell is not In
the house," explained Mary.
"It can't be true!" ejaculated Reuben.
"Stay, let me think still. For heav
en's sake give a distracted woman thne
to think!"
Reuben, in the midst of his excitement,
remembered afterward that the demeanor
of Mary Holland aroused in him for an
Instant a half-wondering interest, as in
a dream of vague beliefs and startling in
consistencies; and then the trouble of
Sarah's absence took away all thought of
everything else.
"Her brother and the man he brought
with him," said Reuben, "where are
they?"
"They are In the gallery still; they
could not have left the room without my
being warned."
"They are In this plot, if plot there
can be," said Reuben.
Mary Holland ran to the window r.nd
looked back at Reuben.
"Open!" she cried.
Reuben and Mary Holland stepped in
to the garden, and looked around them.
It was a dark, dry night, with the stars
hidden now, and the wind soughing
through the larches on the hillside with
-such plaintive moanings that Reuben
strove to catch the accents of his cous
in's voice amidst them.
"We shall find her in the garden," said
Reuben assuringly, as he strode Hlong
th paths, with which he was acquaint
ETC. -
ed, and directed Mary Holland in a dif
ferent direction. When they met again
a quarter of an hour had passed, and they
were no nearer the discovery of Sarah
Eastbell. She had vanished away com
pletely, as by ' a miracle; and Reuben
stood discomfited by the drawing room
window.
"This is beyond all guessing at," he
said, with a half groan.
"The window of the picture gallery ia
closed and barred," said Mary Holland,
"but they are there still.
"I will see them atince," said Reuben;
"meanwhile send out the servants to
search the country. ; There has been foul
play here."
"No, no!" exclaimed Mary Holland.
"He said he promised '
"Who promised?" asked Reuben quick
ly. ............
"Sarah's brother," answered Mary, af
ter a moment's silence.
"Well promised what?" said Reuben
fiercely.
"That he and his friend would not in
any way disturb the peace of this house
that they were here in all sincerity
that "
"Do you ask me to believe in that vaga
bond, Tom Eastbell? Send the servants
abroad, and leave these men to me," said
Reuben, passing from her into the draw
ing room, and proceeding through the
room into the hall, and along the corri
dor toward the picture gallery. He turn
ed the handle sharply and entered.
The two men were there. In the man
lolling in the armchair there was no diffi
culty in identifying Thomas Eastbell;
but he who bent closely, and in near
sighted fashion, over a music book prop
ped against the lamp,-was a stranger be
had never met before. It was at him
that Reuben gazed, distrusting him more
at first sight than Thomas Eastbell.
"I am Reuben Culwick," said our hero
sternly, looking from one to the other.
"I don't bear you ill will, mind," said
Tom; "when I was in trouble once in Pot
ter's Court, and the police came, and
you might have made mischief out of a
little bit of innersent chaff we had to
gether, you stood by me like a trump, and
I'll shake hands with you, if you ask
mer just for my sister's sake."
"Which of you two men will save him
self from jail by telling me where Sarah
Eastbell is?" thundered forth Reuben
Culwick.
Thomas Eastbell's lower jaw dropped
at Mr. Culwick's vehemence, and his sem
blance of astonishment was admirably
feigned, unless he was astonished in real
earnest. Captain Peterson sat down with
his hands upon his knees, in the attitude
of one who anticipated a narrative of
great interest to follow. '
"Where Sarah Eastbell is!" said Pe
terson; "why do you put such an extra
ordinary question to us, sir, and accom
panied by such a threat as the jail?"
"She is not in the house, and you two
know where she has gone."
"Miss Eastbell was in the drawing
room a quarter of an hour ago, when I
stepped in for my violin," said Peter
son; "surely she has not left the house
since? There must be some mistake, Mr.
Culwick, and, mistake or not, you will
excuse me for protesting against your
manner of addressing Mrs. Eastbell's
guests."
Captain Peterson spoke with a falter
ing voice, and with considerable warmth,
as a man might do whose feelings bad
been unnecessarily wounded, and Reuben
Culwick regarded him with graver inter
est. Here was a being to be wary of, if
this were acting.
"May 1 inquire your name?" said Reu
ben. "My name is Peterson, sir Captain
Peterson, of the merchant Bervice a
friend of Thomas Eastbell's, and if not
an old friend, still one who does not feel
disposed to allow him to be browbeaten
without a word of protest."
"Peterson," muttered Reuben, half
aloud. The name was wholly unfamiliar
to him it had not been mentioned on
that night in Potter's Court, and only
some days afterward by Lucy Jennings,
when it had not lingered in his memory.
Captain Peterson's dark eyes peered from
under his brows at Mr. Culwick, as he re
peated his name in a low tone, and there
was the faintest smile of satisfaction
flickering over his fresh-colored face 8t
the discomfiture expressed on Reuben's.
"You both deny all knowledge of my
cousin's disappearance?" said Reuben.
"We do," said Peterson,, with grave po
liteness; and Tom took his oath upon it
at once, by way of adding force to his
denial. "And now, sir, perhaps you will
tell us what has happened."
"And relieve a brother's anxiety," add
ed Tom. "She's the only sister that I
have got In the world, and we have al
ways been very fond of one another."
"You overdo your anxiety," said Reu
ben, dryly, "and I am still suspicious of
you. . Sarah Eastbell has disappeared
suddenly from this house within the
last half-hour and you are the men of
whom she has been in fear. To that fact
I swear before a magistrate to-morrow.
To-morrow the police will search the
house and grounds for traces of her. I
telegraph to-morrow to Scotland Yard
for one of its ablest officers to meet us
here."
Thomas Eastbell was heard to mutter
a malediction of the most violent kind
upon his second-cousin's promptitude, but
his friend turned quickly to him, tnd
said:
"Don't give way, Thomas. Don't let
your sensibilities get the better of you,
and lower your character before this man
of many threats. You have been unfor
tunate, in your early days you have had
the frankness to confess it to me, and
the generosity to atone for it to others
but your later life is without stain or
blemish. Let the police come; you can
face them in your aunt's house where
this gentleman is more an intruder than
yourself without a blush upon your hon
est cheek."
"At your peril be it, if she is not
found," said Reuben; then he strode from
the room, doubtful In his own heart of
these men's complicity with the mystery
of Sarah Eastbell's disappearance.
As the door closed, Tom leaped to his
feet and went across to his friend, whom
he clutched by the shoulder nervously.
"Has aha really gone?
Teg," said Ned, coolly; "fortune haa
faTored us, and she has left your grand
mother's establishment."
"There must be no harm done to her,"
Tom said, trembling; "1 won't have her
hurt, I swear."
"Yon left all to me, Tom Eastben,
said Captain Peterson; "it's too late to
complain, whatever happens."
CHAPTER XX.
Only one person slept that night in the
big house at Sedge HilL While Mrs.
Eastbell slumbered, the inmates were
astir, and not a few of them abroad, beat
ing right and left for scraps of informa
tion, and failing in their object misera
bly. Sarah Eastbell had disappeared,
leaving not a trace by which she might
be followed.
As Reuben rode to Worcester he scan
ned the hedge rows, and the dry ditches,
for a trace of her; he turned into yawn
ing lanes where all was of an indistin
guishable darkness; he reined in his horse
fifty times to listen to the noises of the
night the shriek of a distant engine, toil
ing on with its luggage through the coun
try to some bustling center; the rattle
of the train, the rustling of the trees,
the whirring of a night bird in the long
grass of the meadows, the yelping of doga
in the farm house yards, as he dashed
by. He found his way at last to Wor
cester, and went slowly, hopelessly along
its deserted streets in the direction cf
the police station.
It was seven in the morning when he
was at 'Sedge Hill again. He rode back
in hot haste, as if something unforeseen
were to be thwarted by his quick return;
and he was prepared for evil tidings, as
he passed into the hall and found Miss
Holland, pale as he had seen her last,
awaiting him with eager eyes.
"What news what has happened since
I have been away?" he exclaimed.
"Nothing has happened," answered
Mary Holland; "and you? Have you
heard or seen "
"There is not a trace of her."
He sat before the fire where his cousin
Sarah was surprised by her sister-in-law,
and endeavored from his bewildered brain
to shape out a scheme for her discovery,
when the maid Hartley entered with
breakfast on a little tray, and set it down
on a coffee table at his side.
There was a letter lying on the tray,
addressed to himself. The,,superscription
was in a strange hand, a fine bold hand
writing, characterized by too many flour
ishes to be wholly satisfactory, and. he
took up the letter curiously, broke the
seal and read the following epistle:
"Sir After your discourteous behavior
of yesterday evening, I cannot, with sat
isfaction to myself, remain a guest in
your aunt's establishment. I feel com
pelled to withdraw from a position which
it is incompatible with my dignity to re
tain. I have intrusted Mr. Thomas East
bell with my kind regards to his grand
mother, to whose hospitality and invaria
ble kindness I am forever deeply indebt
ed. My servant will call for my violin
in the course of next week. I beg to re
main, sir, your obedient servant,
"EDWARD PETERSON."
There was a deep furrow on the brow
of Reuben Culwick when he had finish
ed the perusal of this letter.
"Why was this man allowed to leave
the house?" he asked. "He who calls
himself Captain Peterson."
"I didn't know that he was gone, sir.
Not that I could have stopped him, Mr.
Culwick, as all the servants were away
when I saw him last."
"When was that?"
"At five o'clock this morning. He was
talking to Miss Holland here, just
where I stand, sir and I think that they
were having a few words. I don't know
for certain, but I think so."
"You suspected them?" said Reuben
quickly.
"N-no, sir, I don't say that," was the
quick answer, as the woman flinched be
fore his steady gaze; "but I was curious,
of course. It's all in such a muddle, Mr,
just now, and Miss Holland's very kind;
she's been always very kind to all of us,
but I wanted to hear what they had to
say, because poor Miss Sarah was angry
at those two being together in the garden
last night."
"Those two which two?"
"Miss Holland and the Captain."
"Sarah was angry," repeated Reuben
"with whom?"
"With Miss Holaad, just before you
came.- She said she couldn't trust her.
I heard that as I was passing with my
mistress' gruel, quite by accident."
"That will do," said Reuben, moodily;
"don't say any more. I will wait for
Miss Holland."
(To be continued.)
The Llama of the Andes.
What the camel is to the people of
the deserts of Asia and Africa the
llama Is to those who dwell in the An
des, says W. E. Curtis in his book,"Be
tween the Andes and the Ocean." The
llama is a faithful, much-enduring
beast, sure-footed and speedy, without
the services of which the inhabitants
of some parts of the country would be
utterly helpless, for mules and horses
cannot endure the great altitude and
the rarefied atmosphere.
It costs nothing to keep llamas; they
pick up theeir food by the wayside, al
though this seems almost incredible to
those who know the barrenness of the
terrible deserts.
Although the llama is naturally do
cile and obedient, he has a furious
temper, and duels sometimes take place
in the herd which continue until one
of the combatants is killed, if both are
not.
When frightened, the llamas scatter
over the desert, but when cornered they
huddle in groups, with their tails tT
gether and their beads out to meet the
enemy. Their only weapon of defense
is their saliva, which, when they are
angry, they squirt through their teeth
in showers, as a Chinese laundryman
sprinkles clothes. -
A drop of this saliva falling in the
ear or eye or on any part of the body
where the skin is broken will produce
a painful Irritation, and sometimes dan
gerous sores, like those that result from
the venom of a serpent.
A Man of Familv.
"Are you a man of family, sir?"
"Heavens, yes! My third son-in-law
moves in to-day.
Doubt is brother evil to despair.
O'Reilly.
Trick Played with Dominoes.
Here's a Jolly trick yon can play
with dominoes, boys and girls.
Place twelve of them In a circle (see
picture) and tell one of the players
that you can point out any domino he
thinks of.
This is the way to do It: Tell htm
you will count around the circle, touch
ing various dominoes, each touch
counting one. He must count your
touches, and when the number of spots
on the domino which be has thought
of equals 20 he must say "stop." The
domino last touched is sure to be the
one he had In mind.
Here is an 'example: Suppose he se
lects the double-two. You begin touch
ing various dominoes with your finger,
silently counting 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, as
you go. When you come to "8" be
sure to touch the double-six domino,
and then count to the right without
skipping a single domino.
The six-five domino will be "9," you
understand; the double-five 10," the
five-four "11," and so on until you
reach double-two. There you will be
told to "stop," for the number of times
you have touched various dominoes
(16 times) plus the number of spots on
the double-two domino (4 spots) equals
20, you see.
Now all you have to do is to say,
"This (the double-two) is the domino
you thought of."
He will say, "You're right," and he
will wonder how you guessed it.
Be sure not to count aloud nor even
to look as if you were while you are
doing the touching.
Johnny Appleseed.
Before the days of the Civil War
every country boy and girl had heard
of Johnny Appleseed. He was a queer
character wandering from place to
place, and as he played his fiddle very
well and did not beg for money most
people were glad to see him. In these
days we might have called him a
tramp, but Johnny was no idle good-for-nothing,
as you will see. Whenever
he entered a village every one gathered
to hear him play merry tunes, and
though he often accepted lodging and
clothing, he never passed the hat for
money.
He never talked about himself nor
told where he was going, but used to
recite the most wonderful tales in
rhymes. Children loved to hear him,
and interested people used to write
down some of his verses. Appleseed
was only a nickname which was given
him on account of a singular habit he
had of planting seeds. Whenever he
ate an apple, peach or pear, he saved
the seeds, and while tramping across
the country used to stop and plant
them in places where he thought they
would grow. Years afterwards many
a family taking up land in the wild
Western country chose a spot where
a flourishing orchard was growing
that had been planted by Johnny Ap
pleseed. This is one of the songs that
be used to sing:
I love to plant a little seed,
Whose fruit I never see;
Some hungry stranger it will feed,
When it becomes a tree.
I love to sing a little song
Whose words attune the day
And round me see the children throng
When I begin to play.
So I can never lonely be,
Although I am alone,
I think of future apple trees
Which help the men unknown.
I sing my heart into the air,
And plant my way with seed.
The song sends music everywhere,
The tree will tell my deed.
Looking His Best.
A certain boy of about sixteen years,
whom I know, is very careful about
his personal appearance, and yet I do
not believe he has a trace of vanity in
his make-up. He is not the least "dud
ish." He does not affect startling neck
ties, nor fancy waistcoats, nor canes
with great, bulging heads on them,
nor anything at all striking in appear
ance, but he sees to it that his clothes
are free from dust or soil of any kind.
His boots are always carefully polish
ed, his hair neatly combed, his linen
clean,-his nails in the same condition.
Moreover, his mother does not have to
beg and Implore him to wash the back
of bis neck and his ears. He always
has. an appearance of freshness and
neatness that is good to look upon.
Tastes Differ.
"If yon would only be gentle and kind,"
Said our little kitty one day,
"And always speak low,
And move rather alow,
How pleasantly then we should play I
For cat rimes with mat,
And with afternoon chat,
HOW TO PLACE THE DOMINOES.
LITTLE STORIES
AND INCIDENTS
That Will Interest and
Entertain , Young
Readers.
And a little love-pat;
So don't forget that
If yon would only be gentle and kind.
And smooth my fur just the right way,
And call me some pet name, you'd cer
tainly find
How pleasantly then w should play!"
"If you were only a livelier child,
Said our puppy, Ravels called Rav
"And would hop, skip and jump
Over bush, snag and stump,
What a glorious time we should have!
For dog rimes with log,
And with loud-splashing frog,
Or a twenty-mile jog
Through a nice, muddy bog;
So it you were only a livelier child,
And would call out, 'Here, Ravels!
Come, Rav!
And then dash off and prance through
the wilderness wild,
What a glorious time we should have!"
Youth's Companion.
The Little Princesses.
The Czar of Russia has four little
daughters who may some day be sorry
they are not boys. That is strange, in
deed, isn't it? The reason is because
the Russians are anxious that' there
should be a prince as heir to the
throne. So these poor little girls are
not loved as dearly aa they might be
by their own people. The Rusisans are
sorry for them, but think they cannot
love them because they are not boys.
The Wanderer.
A little cloud hung on its mother's
breast,
And quivered and sobbed, in the deep
blue sky;
"I must go to the earth, but I will not
rest
I'll fly back to you in the sweet by
and by."
The Youthful Idea.
"Papa," said small Edgar, "I know
what makes people laugh in their
sleeves."
"Well, my boy, what makes them?"
asked the father.
"'Cause that's where their funny
bone Is," was the logical reply.
FACT8 ABOUT THE BANANA.
When Ripened on the Plant It Is Mot
Suitable for Food.
There is A vast amount of ignorance
prevailing among intelligent people of
the North concerning the growth, pro
duction and marketing of bananas.
Many people Imagine that the natives
in tropical climes step out of their huts
In the early morning and pluck and
eat bananas fresh from the plant the
same as they would oranges and other
fruits. Bananas ripened on the plant
are not suitable for food and would
be much the same as the pith which is
found in the northern cornstalk or el
der. Bananas sold in the United States,
even after traveling 3,000 miles in a
green state, are every bit as good as
bananas ripened under a tropical sun.
This is probably true of no other ex
port fruit. The plant of which ba
nanas is the fruit is not a tree nor is
it a bush or vine. It is simply a gi
gantic plant, growing to a height of
from fifteen to twenty feet. About
eighteen feet from the ground the
leaves, ofttlmes eight feet long, come
out in a sort of cluster, from the cen
ter of which springs a bunch of ba
nanas. These do not grow with the
bananas pointing upward, naturally,
and if the stem grew straight they
would hang exactly as seen in the fruit
stores and grocers' windows. This,
however, is not the case; the stem
bends under the weight of the fruit
and this brings it into directly the
opposite position, " with the large end
of the stalk up and the fringes point
ing toward the sun.
A word of explanation concerning
some banana terms. Each banana is
called a "finger" and each of these lit
tle clusters of fingers surrounding a
stalk is called a "hand;" the quality
and value of each bunch depend on the
number of hands it has. Some may
wonder how the fruit Is cut from the
top of a plant fifteen feet from the
ground. The native laborers cut the
stalk part way up its height, the
weight of the fruit causes the stalk to
slowly bend over until the bunch of
bananas just nicely reaches the
ground, then the bunch is cut off with
the ever-ready machete and carried to
the river or railroad for shipment. The
plant at the same time is cut close to
the ground. The banana is a very pro
lific producer of itself and at every
cleaning of the land it is necessary
to cut down many of the young plants,
or "suckers," as they are termed, in
order that they may not become over
crowded up to a certain limit; the
fewer suckers on a given area the larg
er the fruit they will produce.
Latest Demand of the Cook.
Mistres to servant, who has just
given notice: "What inducement can
I offer you to remain?"
"I want an asbestos curtain before
the kitchen range." New York Sun.
Easily Acquired.
Hyker (reading) A physiognomist
6ays" that men who are impulsive and
aggressive usually have black eyes.
Piker That's right. They are rea
sonably sure to get 'em sooner or later.
Only after repeated failures to catch '
. i j i i
on does a giri announce uer uecuuuu
never to marry.
Dogs and porous plasters are fre
quently attached to mankind.
A MISTAKEN INFERENCE. 1
Of all the "hunting Judges,
"sporting parsons," and other profes
sional men of the last generation who
loved the field and the cry of the
hounds above any indoor duty, one of
the best known was a certain Irish
jurist who inspires reminiscences pub
Used In the People's Friend, of Dun
dee, Scotland. During the Fenian
times he had a clerk who was like
minded, says the contributor, and a
joyous pair they made.
"Yer honor," whispered the clerk,
one fine morning, "there's a meet to
day at Ballykilmulllgan, and they've
a fine dog-fox."
"How many's In ths dock?" asked
the judge, excitedly.
"Twenty, for rioting and breach of
peace, yer honor."
"Tim," said the judge, "do you think
you can get the first fellow to plead
guilty without a Jury trial me to let
him off with a week in jail?"
"The easiest thing in the world,'
answered the faithful clerk.
"Make haste, then, and bring the
whole gang, and I say, Tim, 'tell Jerry
to saddle the mare meanwhile."
The twenty Fenians were brought
Into court nineteen of them prepared
to fight with counsel and Jury to the
bitter end. The twentieth had been
interviewed by the clerk.
"Guilty or not guilty of the crimes
charged?" demanded the Judge, with
a propitious smile.
"Guilty, yer honor," said the crafty
prisoner.
"Well," said the Judge, glancing
benevolently about the room, "I fancy
I can let you off with a week."
The man thanked the Judge, and
stepped down to the bailiff. There was
a terrific sensation among the other
defendants. Why, none of them ex
pected to get off with less than five
years In Umbo. Here was a chance to
profit by his honor's . pleasant mood.
One and all manifested an earnest de
sire to follow the example of their
comrade and acknowledge their crimes
at once.
"Do you all plead guilty?" demand
ed the Judge, eagerly.
"We do!" shouted the enthusiastic
nineteen in chorus.
"Fourteen years' transportation
apiece!" exclaimed the Judge, with a
click of his Jaw. "Jerry, is ths mart
saddled yet?"
COINS THAT ARE OUT OF USE.
Some Money Issues of the Government
Have Disappeared f rem Circulation.
There have been more than a score
of coins issued by ths United States
that are no longer in circulation, and
even collectors find difficulty in secur
ing specimens to complete the various
series.
Recent mention of the disappearance
of the $2.50 gold piece from circulation
and the premium this coin commands
as a curio have set many to rummag
ing In old pocketbooks and the bottoms
of cash boxes and drawers in search of
odd or out of date coins. Some have
found a $2.50 piece, but not many.
The $8 piece, once quite common,
but always a sort of curiosity, is of
tener found, and many have specimens
of the little gold coins representing 25
cents and 50 cents each, which were
not minted by the government, and
probably have not so much gold in
them as they represent. They used to
pass as coin, but were never in gen
eral circulation, being so easily lost
that they soon became scarce. One of
the handsomest coin relics seen is a
$10 gold piece bearing the mint stamp
of 1799. It Is larger than the present
$10 gold piece. The owner has It hung
on a band and wears it as a charm on
his watch chain. The owner says' he
has refused an offer of $150 for this
relic.
The old .octagonal $50 pieces were
quite common in California in early
days, when gold dust was largely used
as a circulating medium. They were
made of pure gold, and while they had
not the elegant finish of the gold coins
minted by the government in these
days many still remember them as the
handsomest coins they ever saw. Many
people now would consider them hand
some on account of the $50 in them.
Got the Dog Fairly.
Two little boys were having what
appeared to be a warm discussion
about a dog, which one of them held
by a string, in a downtown park, when
the group was joined by a grave-looking
man, who stopped and asked:
"Well, boys, what's the matter?"
"We're telling lies for this here
dog," explained one of the youngsters,
annoyed at being interrupted, "and the
one that tells the biggest gets the
cur."
"Do you not know," advised the
newcomer, sagely, "it is very wrong
to tell untruths? Now, I never told a
lie in my life."
The boys looked at each other in
credulously and then one of them ex
claimed: "If s his dog! We ain't In his class!
After the "Corner."
Gunner What ever became of that
young stock speculator who used to get
so many "tips?
Guyer Oh, he's getting more tips
than ever.
Gunner You don't say?
Guyer Yes; he's a waiter in a hotel
now.
"Jones is a cheerful fellow."
"Yes; he never listens to anything
but what he says himself." Detroit
Free Press.
Men and women are so weak, and
amount to so little, that It Is surpris
ing that anyone can be flattered,