pOORHOUSE TO pALACE
CHAPTKH XXL (Continued.) i the future, which George said should be
Days passed on. ahd at last rumor nil one bright ilrvnm of happiness to thu
reached Ella thnt Henry wasvonstant In
his attendance upon the proud Southern
beauty, whoso fortune was valuej by
hundred of thousands. At first she re
fused to bellere It, but when Mary and
Jenny both assured her It was true, and
when she herself had ocular demonstra
tion of the fact, she gave way to one
long tit of weeping, and then, drying her
eyes, declared that Henry Lincoln sUould
sec "that she would not die for him.
Still a minute observer could easily
hare seen that her gaycty was feigned.
for she had loved Henry Lincoln as sin
cercly as she was capable of loving, and
not even George Morcland, who treated
her with his old boyish familiarity, could
make her for a moment forget one who
now passed her coldly by, or listened pas
slvely while the sarcastic Evron Hern
don likened her to a waxen Image, fit
only for a glass case!
Toward the 'last of April Mrs. Mason
and Mary returned to their old home in
the country. On Ella's account Mrs.
Campbell had decided to. remain in the
city during a part of the summer, and
she labored hard to keep Mary also.
Mary promised, however, to spend the
next winter with her aunt, who wept at
parting with her more than sho would
probably have done had it been Ella.
Mary had partially engaged to teach the
school in Itlce Corner, but George, as
suming n kind of nuthority over ber, de
clared she should not.
"I don't want your eyes to grow dim
and your cheeks pale In that little, pent
up room," said he. "You know I've been
there and seen for myself,"
Mary colored, for George's manner of
late had puzzled her, and Jenny had more
than once whispered in her ear, I know
George lores you, for he looks at you
just as William does at me, only a little
more so
Ida, too, had once mischievously ad
dressed her as "Cousin," adding that
there was no one among her acquaint'
ances whom she would as willingly call
by that name. "When I was a little
girl," said she, "they used to tease me
about George, but I'd as soon think of
marrying my brother, You never saw
Mr. Elwood, George's classmate, for he's
In Europe now. Between you and me, I
like him and "
A loud call from Aunt Martha prevent
od Ida from finishing, and the converse'
tlon was not again resumed. The next
morning Mary was to leave, and as she
-stood in the parlor talking with Ida,
'George came In with a traveling satchel
in his hand, and a shawl thrown care
lessly over his arm.
"Where are you going?" asked Ida.
"To Springfield. I have business there,"
.said George.
. "And when will you return?" continued
Ida, feeling that it would be doubly
lonely at home.
"That depends on circumstances," said
lie "I shall stop at Chicopee on my way
back, provided Mary is willing."
Mary answered that she was always
glad to see her friends, and as the car
riage just then drove up, they started to
gether for the depot. Mary never re
membered of having had a more pleasant
ride than that from Boston to Chicopee.
George was a most agreeable companion,
and with him at her side she seemed
to discover new beautlnes In every ob
ject which they passed, and felt rather
sorry when the winding river and the
blue waters of I'ordunk Pond warned
her that Chicopee station was near at
band.
"Oh! how pleasant to be at home once
more, and alone," said Mrs. Mason, but
Mary did not reply. Her thouchts were
ilsewhere, and much as she liked being
alone, the presence of a certain Individ
ual would not probably have marred her
happiness to any great extent. But he
was coming soon, and with that in antici
pation she appeared cheerful and gay as
usual.
Among the first to call upon them was
Mrs. Perkins, who came early In the
morning, bringing her knitting work and
staying all day. She had taken to dress
making, she said, and thought maybe she
could get some new Ideas from Mary's
dresses, which she very coolly asked to
see. With the utmost good humor Mary
opened her entire wardrobe to the Inspec
tion of the widow. At last the day waa
over, and with It the visit of the widow,
who had gathered enough gossiping mate
rials to last her until the Monday fol
lowing, when the arrival in the neighbor
hood of George Moreland threw her upon
a fresh theme, causing ber to wonder
"if 'twas Mat -' beau, and if he hadn't
'been kinder coui-tin' her ever since the
time he visited her school."
She felt sure of It when, toward even
ing, she saw them enter the school house,
and nothing but the presence of a visitor
prevented her from stealing across the
road and listening under the window,
Sho would undoubtedly have been highly
dltied could she have heard their con.
vernation. The Interest which George
hail felt In Mary when a little child was
greatly increased when ho visited ber
school lu Illce Corner, and saw bow
much she was Improved in her manners
mid appearance; and it was then that he
foncelved the Idea of educating her, de
termining to marry her If she proved all
lie hoped she would.
He had asked her to accompany him to
the school house, because It was there
Ills resolution had been formed, and It
was there ho would make It known. Mary,
too, had something which she wished to
say to him. She would tbauk him for his
kindness to her and her parents' memory;
but the moment she commenced talking
upou tlio subject George stopped her, and
for the first time slnco they were chil
dren, placed his arm around her walBt
and, klssiug her smooth, whito brow,
said, "Shall I tell you, Mary, how you
can repay me?"
Sho did not reply, and be continued:
"Give mo a husband's right to care for
you, and I 'shall bo repaid a thousand
fold," Until the shadows of evening fell
around them they sat there, talking of
young girl at hU side, who from the very
fullness of her Joy wept as she thought
how strange It was that she should be
the wife of George Moreland, whom
many dashing belle had tried lu'valu to
win. The uext morning George went
back to Boston, promising to return lu a
week or two, when he should expect
Mary to accompany him to Gleuwood, as
he wished to seo Hose once more before
she died,
CHAPTEll XXII.
The windows of Hose Lincoln's cham
ber were open, and the balmy air of May
came in. kissing the white brow of the
jlck girl, and whispering to her of swell
ing buds and fair young blossoms, which
Ms breath had wakened luto life, and
which she would never see.
"Has Henry come?" she asked of her
father, and in the tones of her voice there
was an unusual gentleness, for Just as
she was dying Hose was learning to live.
For a time she had seemed so Indiffer
ent and obstinate that Mrs. Howland had
almost despaired. Itut night after ulght.
when her daughter thought she slept, she
prayed for the young girl, that she might
not die until she had first learned the
way of eternal life. And, as If In an
swer to her prayers, Rose gradually be
gan to listen, and as she listened, sbc
wept.'wondering, though, why her grand'
mother thought her so much more wicked
than anyone else.
On her return from the city Jenny had
told her as gently as possible of Henry's
conduct toward Ella, and of her fears
that he was becoming more dissipated
than ever. For a time Hose lay perfect
ly still, and Jenny, thinking she was
asleep, was about to leave the room,
when her sister called her back, and bid
ding her sit down by ber side, said, "Tell
me, Jenny, do you think Henry has any
love for me?
"He would be an unnatural brother if
he bad not," .answered Jenny, her own
heart yearning more tenderly toward her
sister, whose gentle manner she could
not understand.
"Then," resumed ltose, "if he loves
me, he will be sorry when I am dead.
and perhaps it may save him from ruin."
The tears dropped slowly from her long
eyelashes, while Jenny, laying her round.
rosy cheek against the thin, pale fare
near her, sobbed out, "Von must not die
dear ltose. You must not die, and
leave us."
From, that time the failure was visible
and rapid, and though letters went fre
quently to Henry, telling him of bis sis
ters danger, he still lingered by the side
of the brilliant beauty, while east morn
Ing Hose asked, "Will he come to-day?"
and each night she wept that he was not
there.
Calmly and without a murmur she had
heard the story of their ruin from their
father, who could not let her die with
out undeceiving her. Before that time
she had asked to be taken back to Mount
Auburn, designating the spot where she
would be burled, but now she Insisted up
on being laid by the running brood at the
foot of her grandmothers garden, and
near a green, mossy bank where the
spring blossoms were earliest found, and
where the flowers of autumn lingered
longest. The music of the falling water,
she said, would soothe her as she slept,
and its cool moisture keep the grass green
and fresh upon her early grave.
One day, when Mrs. Lincoln was sit
ting by her daughter and,' as she fre
quently did, uttering invective against
Mount Ilolyoke, etc.. Hose said, "Don't
talk so, mother. Mount Ilolyoke Semi
nary bad nothing to do with hastening
my death. I have done It myself by my
own carelessness;" and then she confess
ed how many times she had deceived her
mother, and thoughtlessly exposed her
health, even when her lungs and side
were throbbing with pain. "I know you
will forgive me," said she, "for most se
verely have I been punished,"
Then, as she beard Jenny's voice in the
room below, she added, "There is one
other thing which I would say to you.
Ere I die, you must promise that Jenny
shall marry William Bender. lie Is poor,
I know, and so are we, but he has a no
ble heart, and now, for my sake, mother,
take back the bitter words you once
spoke to Jenny, and say that she may
wed him. She will soon be your only
daughter, and why should you destroy
her happiness. Promise me, mother,
promise that she shall marry him."
Mrs. Lincoln, though poor, was proud
and haughty still, and the struggle In her
bosom was long and severe, but love for
her dying child conquered at last.
"And, mother," continued Hose, "may
he not be senj for now? I cannot be here
long, and once more I would see him and
tell blm that I gladly claim him as a
brother."
A brother! How heavily those words
smote upon the heart of the sick girl!
Henry was yet away, and though in Jen
ny's letter Rose herself had once feebly
traced the words, "Come, brother ilo
come," he still lingered, as If bound by
n spell he could not break. And so days
went by, and night succeeded night, until
the bright May morning dawned, the last
Hose could ever see. Slowly up the
eastern horizon came the warm spring
sun, and as Its red beams danced for a
time upon the wall of HosqJs chamber,
she gazed wistfully upon It, murmuring,
"It Is the last the last that will ever rise
for me,"
William Bender was there. Ho had
come the night before, bringing word that
Henry would follow tho next day. There
was a gay party to which he had prom
ised to attend Miss Herndon, and he
deemed that a sufficient reason why ho
should neglect his dying sister.
",I.I,Iinrjr doca DOt come," said ItoBe,
ftell him It was my last request that he
turn away from tho wine cup, and Bay
that the bitterest pang I felt In dying
was o fear that my only brother should
fill a drunkard's grave. Ho cannot look
upon mo dead, and feel angry that I wish
ed him to reform. And as ho stands over
my coffin, tell him to promise never again
to touch the deadly poison."
Here she became too much exhausted
to say more, and soon after fell Into a
quiet sleep. When she awoke her father
was sitting across tho room, with his
head resting upon the window sill, while
her own was pillowed upon the strong
arm of George Moreland, who bent ten
derly over her, and soothed her as he
would a child. Quickly her fading cheek
glowed, and her eye sparkled with some
thing of Its olden light; but "George
George," was nil she had strength to say,
and when Mary, who hud accompanied
him, approached her she only knew that
she wns recognized by the pressure of tho
little blue-veined hand, wlikh soon drop
ped heavily upon the counterpane, while
the eyelids closed languidly, and with i
the wools, "He will not come," she again
slept, but this time 'twas the long, deep '
sleep from which sho would never awaken.
Slowly the shades of ulght fell around
the eottnge. Softly the kind-hearted
neighbors passed up and down the uar-
row staircase, ministering first to the
dead, and then turning aside, to weep as
they looked upon the bowed man, who
with his head upon the window sill, still '
sat just as he did when they told him she
was dead. At his feet' on a little stool
was Jenny, pressing his hands, and co-
erlng them with the tears she for his
sake tried in vnln to repress.
.t last, wnen it wus uarK without, and
lights were burning upon the table, there
was n sound of some one at the gate.
and In a moment Henry stepped across i
the threshold, but started aud turned ,
pale wheu he saw his mother In violent
hysterics upon the lounge, nnd Mary
Howard bathing her head and trying to
soothe- her. Before he had time to ask I
a question, Jenny's arms were wound j
around his neck, and she whispered, .
"Hose Is dead. Why were you so late?" ,
He could not answer. He had nothing 1
to say, and tnechauicnlly following his
sister he entered the room where Rose
had died. Very beautiful had she been
In life, and now, far more beautiful I
death, she looked like a piece of scull
tured marble, as she lay there so col
and still, and all unconscious of the scab!
lug tears which fell upon her face
Henry bent over her, kissing her lips am
calling upon her to awake and speak to
him once more.
When sbc thought he could bear
Jenny told him of all Hose had said, am
by the side of her cotlln, with his hand
resting upon her white forehead, the con
science stricken young man swore tba
never again should ardent spirits of any
kind pass his lips, and the father, wh
stood by and heard that vow, felt thnt if
It were kept, his daughter had not died
in vain.
The day following the burial George
and Mary returned to Chicopee, and as
the next day was the one appointed for
the sale of Mr. Lincoln s farm and couu
try house, he also accompanied them.
"Suppose you buy It, said he
George as they rode over the premises,
"I'd rather you'd own it than to sec it
In the hands of strangers.
I Intended doing so," answered
George, and when at night he was tho
owner of the farm, bouse and furniture.
he generously offered It to Mr. Lincoln
rent free, with the privilege of redeeming
It whenever he could.
This was so unexpected that Mr. Tiln
coin at first could hardly find words to
express his thanks, but when be did he
nccepted the offer, saying, however, that
he could pay the rent, nnd adding tha
he hoped two or three years of hard labor
in California, whither he Intended going,
would enable him to purchase It back
On his return to Glenwood be asked
William, who was still there, "how he
would like to turn farmer for awhile,
"Oh, that'll be nice," said Jenny, whose
love for the country was as strong as
ever. "And then. Willie, when pa comes
back we'll go to Boston again and prac
tice law, you and II
Jenny looked up In surprise while II
llnm asked what he meant. Briefly then
Mr. Lincoln told of George's generosity
and stating his own intentions of going
to California, said that In his absence
somebody must look after the farm, and
he knew of no one whom he would as
soon trust as William.
William pressed the little fat hand
which bad slid Into his, and replied that,
much as he would like to oblige Mr. Lin
coln, be could not willingly abandon his
profession in which be was succeeding
even beyond his most sanguine hopes.
But," said he, "I think I can find a good
substitute in Mr, Parker, who Is anxious
to leave the poorhouse. He is an honest,
thorough-going man, and bis wife, who Is
an excellent housekeeper, will relieve
Mrs. Lincoln entirely from care,"
"Mercy! exclaimed the last-mentioned
lady, "I could never endure that vulgar
creature round me. V I rat Id know she d
want to be eating at the same table, and
I couldn t survive that."
Mr. Lincoln looked sad. Jenny smiled.
and William replied that he presumed
Mrs. Parker herself would greatly prefer
taking her meals quietly with her hus
band In the kitchen.
'We can at least try it," said Mr. Lin
coin in a manner ho decided that his wife
ventured no further remonstrance, though
she cried and fretted all the time, seem
iDgly lamenting their fallen fortune more
than the vacancy which death had so re
cently made In their midst.
(To be continued.)
."T0''0'0-s'l)X''
EARLY FORECAST OF THE 'POSSIBILITIES OF
THE NEXT GREAT PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN
1 TIIKIitlOIIR 1UI01KVKI.T. TOM l JOHNSON, CAIITMl It. II AIIIUSUN. J
'Am VXVIU II. Illl.f.. JIAIICUS A. MANX. ClUllt.XS W. rAIIIIIANKS. V
la v
it x m vm.A . aS5w i
J0,IX C tOOKH. JOtttl'll U. rOIIAKKlU " HlJXUll IU OUXiU
to
Proof Positive.
Brlggs Bertlcr In nh ana, that's: what
he Is. He 1b nlwuys on the wrong sldo
of every question.
Harlelgli But he says the sumo
thing of you.
BrlggsWell, aud iIocBirt that prn.vo
what I say of him? Boston Trnuscrlpt,
An Ill-Kxnre e I Idea,
"How much Is that employe Hhort?"
Inquired the commercial acquaintance.
"Shortl" echoed tho bank director.
"We're the ones who are short. Ho Is
away ahead of the game." Washing
ton Star. '
Not Her War.
"I suppose that woman orator spoke
her mind freely on tho subject?"
"Not much. Sho demanded half of
her $50 In advance before sho went on
tho platform." Philadelphia Bulletin.
Good ns He Pent.
Mr. Smart Well, you know you Ash
ed for me.
Mrs. Smart Ves; and what did 1
catch? A. lobster! Philadelphia Bulle
tin, i
To some minds the discussion of the
question of possible or probable candi
dates for the presidency at the present
time, three years before such candidacy
can take concrete shape, may seem en
tirely futile. But yet. to the practical
politician, three years Is not such o long
look ahead. He Is accustomed to the
fixing of goals at even more extended dis
tances and to silent, persistent efforts to
reach them In advance of his rivals. The
presidency of the United States Is a goal
It js worth any man s while to reach
Many are striving now, or their friends
arc striving for them, to obtain the cov
eted prize. In this gallery of men prom!
nent In the two great parties of the coun
try may be seen those who now stand
foremost In tho eyes of political forecast
ers as possible candidates for presiden
tial honors.
On tha Republican side, slnco Presi
dent McKlnley has seemingly eliminated
himself from the contest, there holds
place as favorite In the entries In the
view of many shrewd politicians Benja
min B. Odcli, Jr., now Governor of Now
York, He Is a practical politician, they
say, a man with an unassailable record,
above all a man in whom his party asso
ciates can place firm reliance. Both tho
political and business Interests of the
country, they argue, would bo safe In
his hands.
On the other hand, there are many who
believe that If n candldutc for the presi
dential nomination Is to bo presented by
New lork tho Vice-President, Theodore
Itooserclt, would bo the logical nominee.
They urge that Col. Hooscvclt position
places him, or should place htm, lu line
of promotion; that he has a wider aud
more favorable national reputation and
would run better throughout the country.
The majority of the wheel horses of the
party in New York State, however, look
with more favor on Odell. They assert
that Hoosevelt has always been and al
ways will be an uuknown quantity, Many
of them, however, have a sort of supersti
tious belief lu "Teddy's luck" and aro
willing to admit that circumstances may
arise that would put him lu tho Presi
dent's chair.
Iu the West, from which all Itepub'
Mean candidates have hitherto come,
looms up prominently the tiaino and fig
ure of United States Senator Charles W.
Fairbanks. He Is prominently Identified
with the banking and railroad Interest
of the middle West anil would find val
uable support from them If his candidacy
Is urged, and It Is believed that It will
be urged. He Is a rich man, having ac
quired a fortune before ho entered poll
tics, llotli as a business man and a
politician Senator Falrbauk commands
the confidence of conservative Hepubll
caus In all sections of thu country.
United States Senator Spooner of Wis
consln Is another entity to be considered
when presidential candidates are spoken
of. A clever lawyer, a man of marked
ability In the Senate and on the stump,
brainy, aggressive, shrcwi as a politi
cian, eventualities may arlso that will
bring him to the front.
The senior Senator from Ohio, Joseph
B. Foraker, Is said to possess the opin
ion that In the courso of his political life
he has devoted sufficient energy to altru
ism to the placing of other Ohio men In
the presidential chair. Now, It Is said,
he would llko to seat himself there, and
Is quietly pulling wires that may servo
to secure him tho nomination.
On the other hand, there nro many as
tute politicians who say that Marcus A,
Hunna, Scuator Forakcr's colleague lu
tlte Senate, looks upon himself as the
logical candidate of the next Hepuhllcan
convention nnd will work with character
istic energy to secure the prize. Hit In
perfectly 9 ware that ho would meet with
strong opposition, even vlnilint Abuse,
but ho reasons that he has been abused
so freely already that his enemies have
exhausted their ammunition and have
nothing new left to ay. If Senator
Ilaniia does receive thu nomination the
country will be assured of a strenuous,
picturesque campaign.
Many of those who would avert a split
lu the Democratic party suggest that
David B. Hill of New York would be the
most available candidate to preserve at
least the outer semblance of union be
tween the two opposing elements. They
arguo that he could hold the conserva
tive element In thu ranks nnd would at
the samo time bu sutllclently aggressive
and advanced to secure the votes of nil
excepting tho mure violently radical of
the Democrats.
Irrepresslblo Ohio, lu addition to her
superfluity of Republican candidates for
the presidential nomination, has also a
very vigorous, lively Democratic candi
date In the person of Tom L. Johnson,
the present Mayor of Cleveland. Ho bus
already inado himself very prominent In
the public eye nnd those who have close
ly watched his career predict that he will
become much more prominent within the
coming three years. He Is a capitalist,
but Is known as the friend of labor; ha
Is rich, but advocates tho cause of tha
poor; ho Is radical In theory and action,
but cannot bo accused of meditating de
signs harmful to the general business In
terests of tho country. Withal ho hns
an Interesting personality that might eas
ily placo him In the position Bryan has
held for a time.
Carter II. Harrison, the re-elected
Mayor of Chicago, Is regarded by many
politicians as n man wbu may be select
ed to lead tho Democrats In the next
campaign. lie has the cachet of success
to recommend him; ho conies from 11
State It would bu nil Important to tho
Democracy to carry; his name would ap
peal to the younger and mure aggressive
element In thu party, and, they say, his
career as n public man Is Nulllclont to
convince the conservative element of tho
party that ho would bo a safe man.
FIRST WOMAN BOAT CAPTAIN
Bhe Is Master of the Steamer Natchez,
on the aliaslsslppl.
According to the census reports. Mrs1.
Blanche Douglas Leathers Is tho only
licensed woman sea cnptuln In the uni
ted States.
Mrs. Leathers Is now In command of
one of the lurgest steamboats on tho
Mississippi the Natchez, which makes
regular trips between New Orleans nnd
Icksliurg. Sho Is thoroughly acquaint
ed with every detail of her profession,
and cau give utiy one of her crew points
on tho proper way to bow-lash a lltio
or place a "stage."
In her senfarlng experience of nearly
ten years, Sirs. J -eat hers lias had her
share of wrecks nnd adventures, Sev
ern! years ago, when tho old Natches
sunk near Vlckshurg, Captain Leathers
as on board as a passenger and saved
her life by swlnimltig to shore.
O110 dark nights a few weeks ago
tho plucky little captain's nerve was
severely tested. Her bont on Us down
trip suddenly ran against a sandbar
and broke off both of tho largo smoke
stacks. Tlio noise and excitement
stampeded tho pnssciigcrs, and tho
sparks from tho disabled stacks threat
ened the boat with destruction by lire.
Mrs. Leathers at once sent tho pus
scngcrs Into the cnbln, took her place
at tho wheel, and remained there for
twenty-four hours until tho Crescent
City was reached. The bravo woman
was literally covored with soot nnd cin
ders, but refused to leave her post until
all her passengers wcro safely lauded
Captain Leathers was also one of tho
Louisiana State Commissioners to thu
World's Fair at Chicago.
Tlio Kuso with Which Men Dlo.
I have found that persons of clean
life, of honorable, upright, religious
character not only do not display an
Indifference to tho approach of death
ns those of grosser Jlfo do, but welcoino
It us a relief from euro and toll. There
Is something about tho npproach of
death that reconciles men to It, Tho
senses nro dulled, tho perccptlvo facul
ties nro blunted, and tho end comes
quietly, painlessly, llko a gcntlo sleep.
in tins condition I mean on tho ap
proach of death those who retain their
faculties to any degree becomo moro
or less philosophers. They know that
death Is Inevitable, that It Is only a
question of hours, nnd they accept tho
Yerdlct without any demonstration nnd
In a philosophical way. In all my ox-
perlcnco I havo never found n easo In
which a dying man or woman com
plained against the Inevitable, attempt
ed to light Its approach or even feared
it. It Is only In good health that wo
fear dentil. When wo becomo 111, when
wo have sustained boiho Injury of n
very serious nnture, tho fear of death
scorns to dlsuppear,-l)r. Andrews, of
Philadelphia, who has seen 2 000
deaths. '
It's DifTcront, You Know.
"I don't seo why you object to Amer
ican capital assuming control In soino
of your affairs."
"Perhaps It's nil right."
eminent European personage "Hereto
fore, you seo, wo hnvo been nccustouiod
to selling you titles of nobility. When
It comes to a transaction thnt Invniv,.
actual valuo on our sldo of It, It somo
how scorns different." Washington
Star.
When peoplo becomo angels. Wn Imnn
there will bo a completo chanco In timi
natures; nothing la qulto so tlrcsoind
as ordinary humans trying to bo nu-gels,
A clerk In a railroad offlco realism, a
brakeinan quits.
Y5