4-.-.
IK
:5rfP and tasteless in my mouth. 1 was over
T5 ' excited. I was, conscious; however, that
THE LITTLE SCHOOLMASTER OF 'THE EAST.
goiitid by
CHAPTER XI. (Continued.)
I begged her to let me know what it
" ' was, as I was so anxious for any sugges
tion that might help me.
"Well, there's no harm in telling you,
at all events. You saw that Mr. Mont
gomery. Well, you see, although he's
much broken down, ' he's a wonderful
clever man, with heaps of learning,
knows everything, and was once, tliey
say, a rich gentleman. Well, now, I was
thinking that if you could vnake up your
mind to tell him a certain portion of
your history, he would be the very man
to advise you and help you."
No, I did not like the thought of tak
ing Mr. Montgomery into my confidence.
I could not tell why. but I was not
agreeably impressed with him. Another
of my strange instincts.
"Well, perhaps you're right. Master
6ilas, for he's a strange man. I can't
make him' 'out at all. He's the quietest
man that ever breathed when sober; but ;
he drinks. . hard, -and then he mutters
to himself, and tells stories about him
self 'that makes your flesh creep. That
. young ' man, Fitzwalton, is regularly
frightened at him when he's got one of
them, fits on him. He's come down, here
after they've' gone to bed shaking with
f rigtp.sayin that he could not stop in ,
,.,,$6; .as. determined I would put no
; .-. confidence," In, Mj Montgomery1. Martha
, j., jww-jss'se upon me the necessity of
jigiaking some change' ihiriy attire,
.j.',.. riM She took' me to a second-hand clothes
hop.'wliere, for a few dollars and my
' 'Id; 'coat to' boot, I procured one "like
1 ' ;-. ' what civilized people ; wore,"., as- Martha
': ' : phrased It.; I bought hat. and necktie
: at the same place. Then she took me to
a barber's.
When I looked in the glass I found
. myself ' completely metamorphosed. I
could scarcely- recognize my own face
and figure. ' The kind-hearted girl was in
raptures.
"There! I don't believe old Porter
( himself woula.kjiow you!" she cried. r
While my money lasted I insisted upon
paying so much for my board. Day by
day my money dwindled down, until I
had not a penny left. Martha tried to
cheer me .with the assurance that some
thing would 'turn up" soon, and that
when things came to the worst they
were sure to mend, and such like bits
of homely wisdom; but 1 was almost
hopeless.
At one time I thought of writine to
Mr. Jonathan Rodweil, to ask him if he
' could assist me in any way; he had told
me to do so if all else failed; but, then,
he had made an express stipulation that
I was to tell him everything. How little
did I know myself! And even of that
' little there was much that I dared not
reveal. Besides which,, the nearness of
his neighborhood to Bury St. Edmund's
'would make any confidence dangerous,
for what wag more probable than that 4
he would apply to the Rev. Mr. Porter
for a verification of my statements, and
thus give that contemptible man a clue.
to my recapture?
Day after day I walked through the
streets, Peeking employment I applied
aclerkship, for the situation of light
porter, lot" that Qf messenger, or even
errand boy; but no person would en
gage me without reference, even in the
humblest capacity. At times, I almost
fainted with heat and lack of food. I
felt such a poor, wretched waif among
all that busy life, that eager" crowd; ev
ery one seemed to have a purpose, work,
except myself; I seemed only fit to creep
into a corner and die a mere useless
incubus upon the world. I have stood
upon the bridges, as many poor wretches
have done before me, and will continue
to do while this stony-hearted- city ex
ists, and looked down upon the turbid
stream that flows beneath; while a voice
whispered in my heart, "There you may
find peace! Why do you hesitate? You
have neither father, mother," nor friend
to weep for you. Death will give rest
to you, and do no wrong to any living
being."
Thus did the tempter tempt me, and
only by prayer could I subdue the temp
tation. At length I avoided the neigh
borhood of the river, which began to ex
ert such an irresistible fascination over
me a fascination that I felt must over
power me at last if I did not fly from it.
I now took to wandering about the
parks. It was there that an incident
occurred to me that changed the whole
current of my thoughts and actions,
CHAPTER XII.
It was about 6 o'clock on a fine bright
evening, at the latter end of September;
I had been walking the streets since
10 that morning, making a last effort to
obtain employment. I might as well
have asked those I applied to for their
purses. Where had I been last? To
whom could I refer for a character?
had never worked before I knew ho one
who could give me a character. Their
manner changed; they looked upon me
as a suspicious individual,, and I could
perceive that watchful eyes followed me
until I was clear of the premises. . I had
made up my mind that I would return
to Martha's no more. I could no longer
endure being a burden upon a stranger.
I dragged my weary limbs along a
road, meeting happy looking couples and
well-dressed people at every step, but
no one like myself. It seemed as though
all the misery had been swept off the
face of the earth, and I alone had been
forgotten. I passed a first bridge, and a
second; just beyond a portion of the
, hoarding that separates a park from the
banks of a canal was broken away.
Upon that spot I threw myself down and
gazed upon the dark, sluggish waters.
I began to picture in my mind the
finding of my body the next morning;
how it would be dragged out of the
water by, hooks; how they would search
it for papers, or other means of identifi
cation. The tears were streaming down
my face, and, unconsciously, I was sob
bing aloud. Suddenly I was startled by
a light touch upon my shoulder, and a
oft, woman's voice sounding in my ears.
"What is the matter are you ill?" it
aid.
turned round and half rose from my
, prosttate position.,. JQhe sun had set, and
gray shadow jirera' sreiling jtbwtArVfht,
a Spell
the thick, heavy trees darkening it yet
more where I lay. My, eyes were blur
red with tears, and I could not see dis
tinctly; but I was sensible that a-wom- .
an dressed in black was kneeling behind
me. She started back, half fearfully,
as I moved; but something in my face
seemed to reassure her, for the next mo
ment she again advanced. I brushed
away my tears, rose to my feet and look
ed at her.
She seemed about twenty; her figure
very slight; a sweet, pale, melancholy
face; and light, golden hair, that fell in
natural ringlets down upon her shoul
ders. . While I looked, a thrill ran
through me. Was I dreaming? had my
troubles affected my brain?.. No, it was
she! My eager looks again frightened
her.
"I heard you sobbing, and I thought
you t were ill, she said, timidly. Is
there anything l can do tor you ll
not, pray pardon my intrusion."
She drew further : away from me as
she spoke. No; I could doubt no more.
That soft, musical voice, that had haunt
ed me in my sleep whose tones had nev
er ceased reverberating in my soul, from
the hour in which I had first heard them
was still the same, although the face
and form had grown older. 1
Do you not remember me? I cried,
in a .trembling, eager voice.
She thought I was mad, and a; look of
fear crept, over her, but no sign of rec
ognition. r, '
, "Do you not remember Bury St. Bd-
mund'Sr-Vtha night I met you under the
old gateway five years next month?"
At the mention of Bury St Edmund s
I could sea her face quiver. She paused
for a moment after I had finished speak
ing; then she came close to me and look
ed steadfastly into my face.
Yes; it is the same, she sftid. In a
low' voice. "How strange that we should
meet againib rX. have often thought of
you." "' -
"I have never ceased thinking of you!"
I answered. And I could not help 'my
tone being a passionate one.
, She did not appear to remark my
manner, but seemed half lost in reverie.
We were now walking away from that
dismal spot; the keepers were clearing
the park.
"Do you know," she said, speaking
suddenly, "that I thought you were go
ing to throw yourself into the canal, and
that was why I spoke to you? Your
eyes were fixed with such a strange look
upon the water, and you were moaning
so sadly."
I shuddered. Already, the thought of 1
my meditated crime terrified me. The I
despair Was lifted off my heart in the
last few moments, and life seemed worth
preserving, after all.
She seemed to read my guilt in. my
tell-tale looks.
"But for you, I should now be lying
at the bottom of that canal!" I answer-
ed, im a low tone, and my tears fell fast
They relieved my sudden revulsion of j
feeling.
"And I have saved you from such a
wicked deed! It makes me so happy to
think so!" sue murmured. But why did
you wish to drown yqurself ?" she asked.
Because my life was so wretched, so
unendurable because I have no friends,
no employment, no hope!" I answered.
mournfully.
'3 have no friends," she answered, in
a sad voice; "but I have never wished
to destroy myself; it would be so wick
ed."
Oh, I will never think of it again
I said, eagerly. .
"But if you have no friends and no
employment, you must want money. I
can spare it; indeed I can. I give away
a good deal. It will please me so much
if you take it.
This was said in such a simple plead
ing tone, so unconscious of offense, that
it could not have mortified the most senr
sitive delicacy. But I could not accept
Please not to ask me; I cannot take
it" I said.
We walked on until we came to a
street of small, pretty houses.
"I live there,'" she said, pointing to
one which appeared to have been re
cently built "I am late 'to-night; Mrs.
Wilson will wonder where I am."
Is she your sister?" I asked, haz
arding a guess,
"Oh, no my landlady.. As I told you,
I have no friends."
"How very remarkable the coincidence
has been!" I said, after an awkward
pause. "Do you remember when first
we met?" '
"You must not talk of that, please,'
she interrupted, hastily, with a shud
der; "nor set me thinking of that time.
or I shall see them all night in my sleep.
But I must wish you good night" -
"And shall I not see you again?" I
said, mournfully.
"You shall 'come and see me, if you
like," she said, innocently; but added,
next moment in a doubtful tone, "1 do
not know what Mrs. Wilson will say
about it. Perhaps it is wrong. She
knows all these things so much better
than I do."
My countenance fell, and she observ
ed it for she went on in a compassion
ate tone: "But it is so hard "to have no
friend no one to speak to, and no em
ployment! I am so. much better off than
you! I have a good, kind friend to talk
to, and to be good to me, in Mrs. Wil
son; and then I have plenty of work.
Y'ou shall come and see me, and I'll coax
her to be good to you."
It was now quite dark. I could have
lingered there all night listening to her
voice, gazing upon her- face. But she
held out her hand. I pressed it, and
we parted.
. But I could not quit the street. I lin
gered about a long time, until lights be-
gan to appear in the - bedrooms of the
houses. I arrived at Rackstraw's build -
ings a little before eleven..: Martha was
quite uneasy, for I had never before
been later than 10 o'clock. I told her
that I had lost my way,
"Why, yon don't mean to say you've
been wandering about ever since? Where
ever could you have got to? How flush
ed you look! Whatever have you been
doing? I never saw you look like it be
fore,'
I tried to eat but the food was drj
'with the same scrutinizing gaze that had
made me so uncomfortable the first
morning I. met him. I had scarcely seen
him or Josiah since. I was usually out
before they were up in the morning, and
in- bed before they returned from the
theater at night. They were unusually
early that evening, and I was unusual
ly late. v
"You can write a round, plain hand,
can't you, Mr. Carstou?"'at length said
Mr. Montgomery. "Then you're just
the man I want I can give you some
copying to do. The pay is small, .but
a little,;, perhaps, may be better than
nothing; until you get something more
profitable to do."
I need not say how -eagerly I lumped
at the unexpected offer. The nature of
the work was to copy some parts from
a manuscript drama. ,
I went to bed that night with a light
heart I should rise the next morning
to earn my first money. She was the
good angel of my destiny; she had saved
my life, and hope had at last dawned
upon 'me. I fell asleep thinking of her,
and her image followed me throughout
the night Eagerly did I await the ris
ing of Mr. Montgomery next morning.
("He takes a great interest in you,"
said Martha. "He's always asking me
if you've got anything to do yet, or any
prospect, and he drops in other sly ques
tions now and then. Mr. Fitzwalton
seems to have, told him all he knows.";
It was 11 o'clock before I sat down
to my work. I soon understood what I
had to do, and set about it with a hearty
good will.
"There! didn't I tell you. Master Silas,
that when things come to the worst
they're sure to mend?" cried Martha.'
"You did," I said, pressing her hand.
I was a heathen to doubt It."
She little knew how fatal that doubt
had like to have become. When Josiah
and Mr. Montgomery returned at night
my task was completed.
(To be continued.) . '
tMtMt..i..t.
COULD NOT SMOKE THEM OUT. f
.l.,..t..t..i...4M..t..n..i..t..i..nn..I,.i,MtM.
An American naval officer who was
a student at the Naval Academy with
Commodore Matsmulla of the Japan
ese, navy, recently wounded on the
bridge of his ship, describes an ex
perience during their student days.
when the young Japanese got the best
of a hazing party. The New York Sun
prints the story:
A pluckier fellow than Matsmulla,
a more level-headed chap I never met.
He was graduated in 1873. Part of the
time his friend, Sartaro Ise, was in
the academy with him.
At the academy "Mats," as he was
called, was very popular, and he was
a midshipman when hazing was at its
worst The Japs hadgnever heard the
word haze, and had no conception of
its meaning.
One night, hearing a good deal of
noise in their room,vI went over, and
when I opened the door all I could see
was a dense smoke out of which came
several arms. I was jerked into the
room and the door closed. The Japs
were being treated to a smoker. The
windows were ail closed, and even the
keyhole and crack .under the door were
stuffed. 1
On the narrow mantelpiece stood the
future Japanese hero, Matsmulla, look-
ing'like one of his old-fashioned idols,
but as smiling as a basket of chips.
He was ordered by-the hazers to sing
a song in Greek. Of the language he
knew but two words, Alpha and
Omega, and these he worked on so
cleverly and with such good nature
that he was lifted down.
Both the Japs took the medicine
with a pluck that was their salvation.
In half an hour the air in the room
was unbearable, and even the hazers
began to weaken. Two of them found
it convenient to get out Then Mats
spoke up.
'We sorry you third-class men have
engagement," he said. "We like you
stay and smoke another pipe."
"Not a word was spoken. Most of
the third-class men were at that stage
when they did not dare to open their
months.
I don't know how long we could
have stood it I confess that I did not
feel altogether happy myself when
Mats said: -
'Any third-class gentleman like an
other pipe? There are plenty."
The mere suggestion drove one of
the hazers out Then one of them cried
out that the officer of the day was
coming, and they all tossed their pipes
into the chimney-place and ran. '
It was a subterfuge to enable them
to get out Mats had smoked them
out "Third-class men . not smoke
much," he said, with a laugh, as they
disappeared.
What clinched his popularity , was
that when the officer of the day did
come along Mats' room was still full
I of smoke, and Matsmulla took all the
blame for the violation of the rule
against smoking, and did not give the
hazers away.
They Stand Pat.
"Anyway," said the Philadelphia
man, "our hall players are no cow
ards." "Oh, they're not eh?" sneered the
rude New Yorker. ,
"No, sir," replied the Quaker. "You
can't make 'em run.",
Her Mission.
Mrs. Homer I suppose your daugh
ter is attending cooking school so she
j will be able to do her own cooking
1 after her marriage?
Mrs. Uppson Oh, my, no! She Is
going to write a cook book.
Pittsburg, where General Alexander
Hays was born, proposes to erect a
monument to her hero on the spot
where he fell In the Wilderness.
The amount invested.ln the Siberian
Railway IT $40"I,700,OQO. S,Z" C; u
" ' '
Little Schoolmasters-It's a shame to
so much trouble at home, but he's got-
Chicago Chronicle.
ONCE NEWSBOY AND BOOTBLACK
James A. Hemenway, of Indiana, Is
Now a United States Senator.
Few men In the public life of the
nation rose to prominence and success
under such discouraging conditions as
Representative " James A. Hemenway,
who succeeds Vice President Fair
banks ' in the United States Senate.
His early life was a continual struggle
against poverty and the limitations it
imposed, but he rose superior to every
difficulty, winning success by persist
ent effort and close and intelligent ap
plication. Mr. Hemenway, whose ancestry
dates back to colonial days, was born
on his father's farm near Boonyille,
Ind., in 1860. He attended school at
Boonville, making slow progress, how
ever, owing to the fact that his studies
were interrupted by the necessity of
attending to duties at home. His fath
er, William Hemenway, was not
wealthy and during the time "Jim"
was going to school he was forced to
help his father, who was postmaster
of the village. During this period the
future Senator acted as newsboy of
the town. At that time there were
very few newspapers published, but
his trade demanded some Sunday read
ing. Through the week a train brought
his papers to town, but on Sunday he
was forced to ride on horseback to
Evansville, a distance of eighteen
miles, and bring the Sunday papers
to Boonville to supply his trade. He
also shined shoes for people, earning
extra money. During this time "Jim's"
routine was to arise at 4 o'clock, do
up the chores about home, and sweep
and open the postoffice before other
business houses opened their doors.
Occasionally he sold a few stamps
and handed out the mails to the coun
try folk of Warrick County.
After the" death of his father, to
whom "Jim" was very closely attach
ed, he decided to go West. He landed
at Mason City, Iowa, from where he
went to Ottumwa, Iowa, and became
a "cow puncher." Returning to Indi
ana, his mother mortgaged her proper
ty, and gave "Jim" $150, upon? which
he and his brother Will returned to
the West this time going to Kansas
They located at Harper, and each filed
a claim for 100 acres of land. "Jim's
land was taken away from him, as he
waa under age. On Will's land corn
was grown, and the crop was prosper
ous and promising, when a sirocco of
the prairie touched and withered it
and the labors of the season were
brought to naught
In those days Harper County was
far from grain mills, and it was a nec
essary thing to haul the meal from
Wichita to supply the settlers of the
frontier. The crop of the Hemenway
boys had been blasted, and they hitch
ed their team to a wagon and buying
meal t Wichita transported it to Har
per Ciwtnty, where they sold it
Soon, however, their occupation was
changed again, and that was to gather
buffalo bones on the plains and haul
them- to Wichita, a distance, of fifty
miles."- Wichita -was at..that time the
whip this boy so often when he has
to learn that geography lesson.
V
center of the "buffalp industry." The
price on the market was $5 a ton."
Two round trips a week was the limit
but through one entire summer and
fall young Hemenway and his brother
Will loaded the wagon and hauled the
buffalo bones to market. They realized
in this way between $6 and 10 a week.
In 1880 Hemenway returned to
Boonville and went to work in a to
bacco factory. Later he engaged in
the livery business at Rockport and
to augment his income became also a
sewing machine agent.
While selling sewing machines and
making other odd trades the opportuni
ty was given to him of reading la w
and he entered the office of John L.
Taylor, a prominent Democratic law
yer, whose partner he subsequently
became. Here one day he was waited
Upon by a Republican politician and
asked to accept the nomination for dis
trict prosecutor. There did not seem
to be any chance for his election, the
district being strongly Democratic. Mr.
Hemenway made an active canvass of
the distrlsct and to the surprise of
everyone was elected. In those days a
man could be chosen prosecutor before
being admitted to the bar, and it was
Hemenway's fortune to be one of those
men. When the first case came up
there were several good lawyers op
posed to him and the presiding judge
.suggested that Hemenway secure as
sistance. He declined, wishing to re
fute one of the arguments made
against him during his canvass that
he was not competent to fill the place.
He won his case and thereby greatly
enhanced his reputation.
In 1894 he entered Congress, to
which he has been elected ever since.
He at once took a prominent place in
House affairs, becoming the head of
the most important committee in the
government the National Committee
on Appropriations.
'Mr. Hemenway is married and has
an interesting family of three children
the eldest of whom, Miss Lena, is a
beautiful girl of 18. The other, chil
dren are George, aged 15, and Miss
Estelle, aged 7.
Boy Weavers of Persia.
Boys from 8 to 12 years old do a
great part of the carpet and rug weav
ing in Persia. They are very deft.
Having been shown the design and col
orlng of the carpet they are to work
the boys rely on their memories for
the rest of the task. It is very seldom
that you will see on any of the looms
a pattern set before the workers. The
foreman of a loom is frequently a boy
of from 12 to 14. t He walks up and
down behind the workers calling, out
in a sing-song manner the number of
stitches and the colors of the threads
to be used. He seems to have the de-
Blgn lmprmtea in nis raina. A copy
of a famous carpet now at the South
Kensington Museum - is being made.
The' design and' coloring are unique,
but the boys who are working on the
copy are doing it without the design
before them and at the rate of from 30
to' 35 stitches a minute. Nothing but
hand work is employed in the manu
facture of Persian carpets and rugs,
and none but natural or vegetable dyes
are used. This accounts for the su
perior quality of the Persian products.
The secretof the beautiful dark-blue
dyes used in the older days has been
lost .
Mixing His Metaphors.
A warrior, who is also a politician,
has recently been welcomed home with
effusion. In one of the speeches the
case was put in a nutshell. "We re
joice," said the chairman, "to see the
old war horse back again in the sad
dle, ready once more to help us guide
the ship of state!"
There is one thing "we have remark
ed about a very swell young man: he
wears his overcoat very long or very
short ' '' i .
Feed your hair; nourish it;
give it something to live on.
Then it will stop falling, and
will grow long and heavyi
Ayer's Hair Vigor is the only
Hair Vigor
hair food you can buy. For 60
years it has been doing just
what we claim it will do. It
will not disappoint you. .
t " My hair wsed to he very short. Bnt after
using Ayer's llnir Vior a short time It began
to grow, and now it is fourteen Incites long.
This seems a splendid result to me after being
almost without nnv hair."
Mrs. J. 11. Vis-jut, Colorado Springs, Colo.
1 1 0 a bottle.
All drngeists.
J. O. AVER OO.,
JiOweM. Mass.
for
Short Hair
His Dyspepsia Better.
Butts I got a wire from Sniggs to
day saying his dyspepsia was much
better. ' -
Cutts You don't mean to say he
telegraphed the news. What did he
say?
Butts He said there was a strong
rally in the wheat pit-rCincinnatl
Commercial Tribune.
Mothers will find Mrs. Wlnslow's Soothing;
Syrup the best remedy to use for their children
during the teething period. .
Parental Diplomacy.
"Here is a book that our daughter
should read," said Mr.: Wisewun. It
contains some excellent advice for a girl
of her age."
"Very well, dear," replied his letter
half. "I'll lay it on the table and for
bid her to look at it"
To Break In New Shoes.
Always shake in Allen's Foot-Ease, a powder.
It cures hot, sweating, aching, swollen feet.
Cures corns, ingrowing nails and bunions. At
all druggists and shoe stores, 25c. Don't aceept
any substitute. Sample mailed FREB. Address
Allen S. Olmsted, Le Roy, N. Y.
Other Side of It
She (at the depot) it must be awfully
trying on those poor foreigners whe come
to this country and find themselves
strangers in a strange land. "
He Oh, they are used to it having
been born and raised in foreign lands,
you know. -
She Why, of course, I never thought
of that -
A GUARANTEED CURE FOR PILES
Itching Blind, Bleeding or Protruding Piles
Yonr druggist will refund money If PAZO OINT
MKNT tails u cure you in s to is days. 30c
Quaint Scotch Custom.
Natives of the northeast coast of
Scotland observe a curious custom at
funerals. After the burial service the
coffin Is carried outside the house and
placed upon the two chairs on which
it had rested within doors. As soon as
the pallbearers lift up their burden
and begin their journey to the grave
yard these chairs are at once thrown
sharply on their backs. In this posi
tion they are kept until the interment
has taken place, when they are taken
indoors again. Any attempt to place
the chairs on their legs or to take them
in before the proper time is at once
frustrated by the relatives of the dead.
WHAT'S THE USE OF
SAYING "GIVE ME A
. 5-CENT CIGAR," WHEN
BY ASKING FOR A : -
"CREMO"
3
YOU GET 1 HE BEST
5-CENT CIGAR IN
AMERICA
"The World's Largest Seller"
THE. BEST
WATERPROOF CLOTHING
IN THE WORLD
BcARa THIS TCAPE tySl
MADE M SLACK OS V7L1QW
I TAKE HO SUBSTITUTES
0NSA1EVERYWHEJ
catalogues rca
showing-ruu. UNEOr
6ARMENT5 AND MAX
A. J. TOWER CO., soaTON, Mass., o.a.a,
I tower eawaoiaM CO.. tro.. tow on to. cowadh.
aLMWii.iai.-cg?i'
M CUOit "E All ElSEf All.
11 n s, nn.Mh amn I'astoa Onnil lTis
Tri in time, oora uj arngg" r-1
JMgcgl
; ft are known by what they bav H
Mjf grown. For naif a century they ;
M have been the standard haven't
M - failed once to produce bigger, bet- -
ter crops than any others. Sold .
W by all dealers. 1905 Keest la.
f nmlree to all applicants. ..
P ' D. M. FERRY A CO., : f
I '"Ptrolt. Mich.
vMy,
...
lCT7tl 1AMV AA I
it':
,-JCv.h'