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About Bohemia nugget. (Cottage Grove, Or.) 1899-1907 | View Entire Issue (March 14, 1902)
That night Is still ns death llself. and
tlu sparkling brilliance of the slow mov
ing waters contrasts with It In tender
fashion. Strangely nttraetcd by it. Vera
goes forward. moves ilown tho stone
steps that lead to the garden, ami with
eager footsteps Rains the little pathway,
steep ami sudden, that leads to the beach.
Suddenly she draws In her arms, and
a shiver runs through her; she turns her
head to see Dysnrt.
"Yon are going to marry Lord Shol
ton?" he says, his tone more assertive
"It Is au impertinent question," Bays
Miss Dysart, calmly.
"You arc disingenuous. If he has not
jet asked you. you know he only wuits
the opportunity to do so. When he
,0Cft " He ehecks himself abruptly.
knowing he has cone too far.
A little flame leap Into Vera's eyes.
"Has It occurred to you that I am very
forbearing?" she asks, with a curious
mile. "Does It not strike you as very
remarkable that I do not on my part
question you back again? that I do not
ask you whom you are going to marry?"
He looks ns If he was about to make
her an angrv rejoinder, but she checks
"No don't be afraid, I am not going
to put the question." she says, coldly;
"and after all, why should I?"
"Do you mean." he goes on. "that you
know of someone I want to marry?"
"Let there be an end to this hateful
hypocrisy," cries she, turning to him with
a buret of passionate anger. "You acted
your part for Grhelda this morning most
"Vera!" cries he, hoarsely.
She turns as if startled by that impas
sioned cry, and then, he hardly knows
how It is, he hardly dares remember af
terward, but somehow she is in his arms,
and he is looking down into her frighten
ed eyes with a terrible entreaty in his
"Do you know what you are doing?"
he says, his miserable voice scarcely
above a whisper. "My darling, my soul,
bare pity!" More closely bis arms bind
her. lie bends his face to hers nearer,
nearer still, and then, suddenly, a great
loathing of himself fills him. He draws
back with a sharp shudder, and almost
pushes her from him. "Go!" he says, ve
hemently; and in another moment she
has turned the corner of the winding
stairs, and is gone.
Gone! t ,
With a' heavy groan he flings himself
face downward on the cool sweet, shift
ing sands, that moon-smitten lie trem
bling, waiting for the dawn.
, CIIAPTEK XVII.
As Mr. Dysart takes bis way slowly
around the house, the sound of running
footsteps coming toward him from a
side walk attracts his attention. It is
Grunch, wild-eyed, haggard, her thin
gray locks, unbound through her unusual
haste, flying at each side of her lean, for
"More baste, worse speed," says he,
carcastlcally. "Is the house afire, or my
precious nieces dead, that you rush upon
me with such indecorous abandon?"
"Hush," says she, sternly,' with a
glance behind her, "this is no time for
words like those. Think only of this,
Dysart," pausing and panting for breath,
"that I have seen a ghost."
, The old man laughs.
"Be silent!" hisses the woman savage
ly; "cease your gibes, I tell you. The
ghost 1 have seen is Is "
"My worthy father, for example," sug
gests he, with a sneer. "No? Well,
come, who, then?"
"Michael Sedley!" The words fall from
her as though they burn her lips in pass
The sneer dies from Mr. Dysart's Hps;
a dark flush suffuses his face, turning it
almost black for the moment, to fade
presently beneath the ashen hue that
makcH him look like a corpse a corpse
.With eyes of fire! He staggers back
against a tree, and his hands catch con
vulsively at the bark of it
"You are mad, woman!" he says, in a
I "Ay, may be. So I say. Mad I am,
If it was his ghost I saw. But if I saw
him in the flesh, how then, Dysart? Why,
sane. Well," with growing excitement,
"shall it be mad or sano?"
"Mad, mad, mad!" shrieks he, furious
ly. "All my life you have been my bane,
my curse, and now, now .what is this
news you would tell me? Sedley! Why,
he la dead, woman dead, I tell you!
Where have you seen him? Speak, I
command you," cries he, seizing her arm
and shaking her violently.
"On the avenue. I was there watching
Miss Griselda, as you told me to, lest she
should go into the woods again, when he
came slowly toward me through the
trees, prowling about. He's changed,
he's gone to bone a deal; but I'd know
him still among a thousand. Ay, and
yonll know him, too."
It Ih characteristic of the iron nature
of the man that rose above all petty
cringings to a miserly fear that as he
enters the presence of the one creature
whom on earth he dreads, he does so
with a calm visage and one expression
less. His step is slow, methodical as.
usual; bis face, gray In its pallor, a very
mask. His brilliant eyes alone betray
the keen life that still lingers In the
gaunt old frame, and they look through
and through the unwelcome visitor with
an unblinking gaze.
"You!" he Hays, softly, nay smilingly,
extending a graceful hand, with a good
deal of languid Indifference.
"Just that," says Sedley, In a tone bo
loud and common as to contrast painfnlty
with the polished accent that had gone
before. "Years since we met, mate,"
"Many," says Mr. Dysart, sinking care
fully Into a rickety old chair near him.
"And yet It seems like yesterday that
"Take it like that! It shows what a
downy uost you've boon ly In' In." says
the largo. coarse-looking man. with u
distinct!) aggrieved air. "There's the in
justice of It. You've a much right to
this phuv us I have, when all's told. And
if I oau t got my sharo "
" 'Sli !" breathes Mr. Dysnrt, softly,
lifting one hnnd. "And well. so you
have come back? Titling for the old
"lo look you up," doggedly. "To see
whether you were in the gruvo or out
of it. partner."
"Partner?" repeats Dysart, as If In
"In crime!" roughly, as If angered by
the other's tone. "That's what they'd
call it, Dysart, at the Old Bulloy. or
whatever court it might come before, rut
"No no." assents Mr. Dysart, with
"I never blauicd you. mind you that.
But a lawyer's a worriting sort o' var
mint. A man should stick to his word,
soi 1. and when the old gov-nor refused
to stick to his. after all his promises to
you, why, if you kept him to it, In spite
of him, when he had no longer power
to kick well, who's to say you were
"You are very good; very sustaining,"
says Mr. Dysart, slowly. His tone Is,
perhaps, a little fainter.
"Ay. that's what I am to them ns
stands by me. And you nnd I are in the
same boat, Dysart; never lose sight of
that. I don't. I'll back you up as fresh
as though It was only yesterday we'd
agreed on on you know what. Ha, ha,
The old man suddenly stiffens himself,
and looks straight at Sedley.
"And now what is It you want?" he
asks, tersely, his tone ringing cold and
clear through the room, though very low.
"Now, I like that. I want part o' the
swag. Five thousand pounds," says the
"Five thousand pounds! You must be
"Not one penny less. My silence Is
worth that and more. Come, don't Im
agine you can impose on me. I tell you,
I would think as little of going Into that
room out there and telling your nieces
of that first will, as "
"Hush hush!" says Dysart, In a sharp
tone, wild with fear. "Not another
word, not a breath on that subject here.
Walls have ears. You know the old ruin
at the end of the far garden? Meet me
there to-night, and I shall sec If we can
come to terms."
With a last word or two he succeeded
in getting Sedley to the door, and there
summons Grunch, who In truth is mar
"Grunch! Will you see to Sedley? He
Is as old a friend of yours as of mine, I
think,'' snys Mr. Dysart, in so genial a
tone for him that Grunch involuntarily
glances at him. "He is tired, and no
doubt hungry. Make him comfortable in
"Yes, sir," says Grunch, respectfully.
She leads Sedley down the passage, and
then, with a muttered word to him that
she should get the keys of the cellar, runs
back to Dysart, who stands staring after
them with an unfathomable expression in
"Your will iuick!" she snys, in a low
"Keep him out of sight. Let no one
see him, or guess at bis presence in this
house," whispers Dysart, fiercely, after
which he steps back into his room and
flams the door, and locks It behind him
in a frenzied fashion.
It is ten o'clock, and night, like a heavy
shroud, lies over wood nnd garden. Tom
Peytom is treading with cautious steps
the upper part of the garden on his way
to the ruin.
Safely he makes his way to the old
house, to get the letter ho knows will
await him there. Poor darling, what
will be In it? Further vexutlons? With
a desire to avoid all risks, he elects to
enter by the back, where a large rent
in the dilapidated walls will enable blm
to squeeze through the room where the
letter from Griselda will be.
Voices decidedly, and in the next room.
The speaker at this iustunt is Mr. Dy
sart. The second voice is strange to bim
coarse, vulgar and dictatorial, and
The voices grow In wrath; the un
known one being loud in vituperation.
And now, all suddenly as it were, the
voices cease; there Is a strained silence,
as If each man waits with drawn sword
for the other's next word, and then a
sickening sound. A dull, awful blow, as
of oak meeting flesh and blood, a ghastly
groan, and then silence.
Great lteuven! What has happened?
Has be killed that old man? Peyton
springs forward, looks upon the inner
room, he stops short, as if shot, to stare
aghast upon the scene before him.
Upon the earthen floor lies a huge fig
ure, apparently dead, while stundlug over
it is Mr. Dysart, bis fuce alight with u
ghastly hope, his wild eyes gleaming. A
heavy oaken stick Is la his hand. The
murderous bludgeon is uplifted to com
plete crime nlrcady begun to finish his
work, to make sure of the helplesi vic
tim at bis feet, when Peyton, uttering u
loud cry, rushes from the spot where
until now he lay concealed.
There Is an Instant's hush, a strange
hush, and then a convulsive shiver runs
through the old man. An ashen grayness
has risen from chin to brow. He flings
np his arms, for a second or two, clutches
foolishly at the air, and then falls with
a dull thud acrocs the body of his enemy.
Peyton runs through the garden, never
pausing or drawing breath until the
house is reached. Knocking Impatiently
with his knuckles and receiving no an
swer, he so far gives way to the agi
tation that la consuming htm as to smash
a pane with a stone. This bring Heatea
to the window la a minute or two, cur
"It Is I, Dysart Tom Peyton. Coins
out, come out quickly. Your falltor,"
panting, "Is hurt Is u'iy 1111"
"My father!" says SoiUott, ns If tot
believing. "But where how?"
"lit the garden up thoio In the old
ruin. Oh, hurry, man, hurry; you can
hoar all afterward!"
Soaton hardly dares to UMituro a re
mark, but, having with trembling lingers
clothed himself, follows Peyton out
through the window lit the chill night
nlr, mid soon the two joiiiir iiumi are
touting like hunted things through the
gardens to that fatal old ruin at the end
Here everything Is Just ns Peyton loft
It. Tito old itittti lying dead, with it more
poaoofttl expression 011 tA,v 'I"111 had
over boon there while ho lived- the nth
or. the stranger, almost as motionless as
his enemy, save for n faint quiver of the
lips and nostrils oory now and then.
Who wits ho? What hail brought hint
hero? Peyton turns to Soaton with those
questions on his lips. It Is Imperative
that something about the stranger be dis
covered and tit olioo;
Soaton Is still holding his father's body
In his arms, Inoxptossiblo grief upon his
countenance. The old iiuiti had boon
stem, hurd. begrudging, hut ho hud loved
his son well, and the son know it. Po
ton tuuclics him lightly on the shoulder.
"ltoue yourself," ho says. In u low,
earnest tone. "You know this man?"
"No not at all. 1 never saw blm be
fore." "What! you oau toll me nothing? Oh,
think. Dysart!" snys Peyton, with In
creasing anxiety. "If you ktiow nothing
we shall scarcely lo able to see how to
act. Exert your memory, man."
"It Is useless. 1 swear I never saw
him before." He compels himself to look
ugalu nt Sedley, and a shiver of disgust
shakos hlui. "I know only this that he
has killed my father."
"You forgot." says Peyton, very quiet
ly. Ho would have been thankful, glad,
to be able to leave his friend ill this be
lief, but Le knew it would lie IniiHisslblc.
"1 saw the whole thing. There was n
quarrel, alout what I did not hear, but
it was your fnther who knocked that
"Well, it killed him," says Soaton, ex
citedly. "The excitement of that quar
rel was too much fur him. I still main
tain that that man caused his death."
He covers his fnce with his hands.
"Nevertheless, wo cannot leave him
here to die. Come. Soaton, take your
courage in your hands. Think If there
be no way to avoid the scandal that must
necessarily arise out of all this. For
for the sake of your poor futher's mem
ory, bestir yourself."
It is a potent argument. Soaton flushes
hotly, and the old touch of power returns
to his face.
Together they carry the two bodies Into
the house, ttuder cover of the silent
night. Mr. Dysnrt to his own room, aud
then up the stairs, and through the end
less corridors, that other groaning,
senrcely living burden; up always until
a disused chamber In a remote corner of
the old toner is reached, where it is be
yond probability that any one in th
house save these three who know, will
ever seek to penetrnte.
(To be continued.)
HATS OF OUR ANCLSTORS.
Chances that lluve Taken Place In
"Speaking of the lint business," said
a veteran of the business to the local
historian, "most wonderful changes
have taken place since 1K."0. In olden
times soft felt nnd derby bats were not
known, und It was ns lute as 184II when
silk dress bats were first Introduced in
this country, this being a French In
vention, and nil silk plush used for
hats hi the world was, up to this time.
nude in France. When Kossuth came
to America he introduced the soft felt
hats, wearing one himself. It did not
take American batters long to take up
the Idea, and in less than one year old
and young Americans covered their
heads with Kossuth hats. They were
In shape nearly the same ns tourist
hats now, only being trimmed up with
a nice, long ostrich plume. Along about
1858 an English tourist came along
with the derby hat, and In a very few
years they beenme the general head
gear In the country, nnd up to the pres
ent date the demand for soft lints and
derby hats Is nearly evenly divided.
'In those days nil the best claw of
soft hats were Imported from France,
and stiff derbies from England. This,
however, has tnken a material change,
afl American huts nrc now sold in all
paTts of the globe, and It Is a known
fact that we produce the most tasty
and best hats made. Iiefore the arrival
of Kossuth and the English tourist.
however, the Amerlcaus dltl not go
bareheaded, but contented themselves
with napped otter and nnppcd beaver
hats, for the moTe expensive, nnd the
so-calk-d scratch-up or brush hats for
the cheaper. Brush or scratch-up de
rive their name from the fact that nap
was rulsed on them by means of a stiff
brush constructed of whalebones. The
first manufacturers who made Ameri
can production in those goods popular
and world-renowned, and who forced
French and English lints out of this
market, were Blnaldo M, Waters, John
B. Stetson, J. D. Bird and B. .1. Brown.
"During the early periods of 1840
and 1850 a dealer was a hatter In fact,
else there would have been no room for
blm, as all made the hots they sold, all
handwork, no machines of any kind,
and one who know how to make a imp
lied otter or beaver bat was an artist,
earning $40 to $00 per week being
nothing unusual, many making from
$7G to $100."-St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
In no situation, probably, Is the stam
mering Infirmity more calamitous than
In making a proposition of marriage.
An exchange gives us this dialogue:
Mr. Stutterly to MIbs Graco . :
"M-in-m-lss G-G-G-G-G-G-Grace, M-I-I
w-w-w-w-w-want you to b-b-b-b-be
"What did yon say, Mr. Stutterly?"
"W-W-W-W-W-W-Won't you b-b-b-b-be
my wu-wu-wu-wu-wlfe, I-I-I-I-I-I
"O, Gcorrce, tils la so siddear
BOLD BLACK JUJtT.
A PICTURESQUE HIGHWAYMAN
The Jekjrll mill ll.ulr Correr of
Htnue ltotilier Who Terrorized tlir
Pitclllc Slope nnd Minded the, tllllelol.
for .Mini) Vent" Auoln at Work,
There Is good ten soli to believe that
Black Burt, the boldest iiml most no
torious lilgliwiiyiiinii ever known In
California, Is opu
tatlng again. Tim
trt35iSiV I the robberies of
PM I stage itml couch on
i'oiiiIh In northern
I'ltllfornlii it u d
dining the lust few
mouths have alum
limit cimimrkM of
tlu famous lotto
lilgliwiiyiiiaii of the
Sierras. Moro Until
this, two of the passengers lit (lie hold
up stages knew something of Bhtck
Bart when be hold central California
In terror JO years ngo, mill, from Ills
speech nnd figure, are sure that their
robber Is the noted Imiidll. Moreover,
to one seems to know what has be
come of hint since Ills release from
Situ Qtiotttlti prison, where bo hail been
sentenced for eight years.
The trial of Itlnck Bart for highway
robbery In Vlsalla, Oil.. In May. INS I,
revealed u muss of Information about
this unusual tmmllt. For I" years high
way robberies by Black Bart had taken
place nt intervals and In least expect
ed localities, till the way from Port
laud, Ore.. In Yiiina. Ariz.
Ills arrest on me about In this way.
In March. 1SSI. the singe conch (hut j
traveled the rough road over (lie deso
late hills and through the lonely i
gulches from n gold mining enmp In 1
tho Sierras to Mnrysvllle. Oil., was !
held up by a masked, lone highway- '
man. whom the driver and nil the pus- I
scngcrs recogulxcd by his manners mid
siHecb as none other than Black Bart.
The veteran highwayman had reduced '
his mode of robbery to n science, and '
when ho had quickly hnrvested it crop
of gold watches, purses and bits of
Jewelry, he shouted to the driver to
go ahead. i
A MEETING WITH BLACK BAIIT.
Wh'ti the coach had rumbled out of
sight on the wny down the mountain
side Black Bart turned his attention
to splitting open tho wooden Imjx con
taining the Wells-Fargo Express Com
pany's treasure. Something must unvo
disturbed the highwayman while, ho
was gatherlug tip the money from tho
treasure box, for when the stage couch
passengers had armed themselves at
the next station and hurried back to
the scene, later In tho day. they found
among the debris of papers, empty
purses and wrappings of parcels a
linen cuff. Tho robber evidently had
dropped It In a hurried tight to his
The cufT was turned over to the ex
press company detectives. They found.
ufter weeks of Inquiry, that the Indeli
ble laundry marks were (hose of a
Chinese laundry on Hush street, In
Sun Francisco. When (lie dutectlvo
had learned from the Chinese laundry
man that the marks on the cuff Indi
cated that It bcloiiged to one Charles
E. Bolton, a regular patron of tho
laundry, they set ubout to hunt up
Mr. Bolton. It came out that Charles
E. Bolton, who owned the cull, was a
quiet, unobtrus've, spare man of about
GO years He lived In a modest and
qulot boarding house, where sedate,
old-fashioned business men bad rooms,
and every one thcro wag bis friend.
When a detcctlvo went to live In tho
same boarding house he found that
Mr. Bolton was a studious man, lived
a correct life, was a reader of new
books, dabbled In poetry, and every
few weeks went away to visit ono of
tho several little mines about Califor
nia In which ho bad Investments. Bol
ton wns an export whist player, nnd
evidently ho had traveled far and wldo
Id his early life. His hobby was water
colors, and bo spent whole days In
painting bucolic scenes alone lu his
rooms. Then when he bad dined In
style along with the other bachelors In
tho boarding house ho went alono to
the theater, where he took the least
conspicuous scat. He never got mall
and never sent letters, but he devoured
the dally newspapers at times. Never
theless It did not tako the detective
long to connect this quiet, polished gen
tleman with the most dreaded outlaw
For 17 years he had kept half tho
sheriffs and constables, a lot of detec
tives, and all the United Stutcs mar
shals In California ceaselessly watch
fnl for a fresh deed by Black Bart.
He bad many n tlmo wnlked down to
a local bank carrying n snug fortuno
In his grlpsack-tho proceeds of a re
cent nffalr out on "the road"-past
hundreds of San Francisco people,
while they weie excitedly discussing
Itlael; Han's latest hold-tip.
The niltliiw was convicted nnd ho
cause uf his confession it tit I apparent
ilctctiitltiiitlnii to lend it new lire lie "'Us
Miitciitcd to Sun Qtientlu prison rur
only eight jours. He was it model pris
oner, mid he cueneil all the oniiiinulu
Hons of bis sentence for good conduct,
lie was lllironteil In .Inly. t.MHl. Fur a
few ilnys he lived In Siternnteiilo, wait
ing, he hii Id. ilitdl lie got hiiiiio money
from Eastern relatives, when he ineiinl
to go in Seattle and earn mi honest liv
ing. Then the until disappeared.
There Is no doubt In tho minds of
Hie ollleluls who participated In Black
Hurt's capture before, lint that the no
couipllNlieil stage robber Is again at
work mid will once inure lend the of
floors of Ihe tmv a merry vhiisu before
ho Is apprehended.
One of (lie HIiih Unit Ik"! my Ilonin
There Is olio exceedingly disagree
able Intblt Into which some people fall
without seeming to notice It. Tills Is
nagging. They cannot say what they
have to say and then lot It alone, but
keep peeking mid pocking at It on ev
ery occasion and If occasions do not
arise naturally, they tiitiko lltoiii, in
tills nagging, sarcasm, or Irony, bear
a leading pan. A tiling may be said
once or twice as a pleasant raillery, In
a genial biiiuor, but when repeated
over and over It ceases to be fun. It
thou cuts. Sarcasm Is a two-edged
tool; it cuts and wounds the otto at
whom It Is alined, aud It Irritates and
roughens the one who uses It. 't Is
a dangerous tool for one to use who
wishes to be either kind or Just. It
oolites easily to (he Hps and the In
tellect takes a certain kind of delight
In aptness, Ingenuity or sharpness. Its
use grows on one. At least the hnlilt
becomes so habitual thai It Is used
unconsciously. However good-natured
one seems lo take It, It Is almost cer
tain to leave a sting; there Is a wound
that hurts. Struggle ngaltist It as one
will, there will often bo an Impression
carried that some part of It Is mount In
Too often do nil of us wound tho
feelings of others by carelessness In
speech. We cannot too carefully
guard ourselves against the itugglug
habit. It rasps and wears out the
host of dispositions. Let us endeavor
ever to make our speech kindly, even
when obliged to Iiml fault. "A blow
with a word strikes deeper than a
i t.i,.,., ...m. .. .........1 iiv. .,i.ti .
,, tit, ,1 n,M,ii. i; nimu uvtrri
err by speaking too kindly. Those !
naggers arc often kind at heart and
would not willingly wound another.
They have formed the habit uncon
sciously and are not nware of how
frequently they Indulge In (lint kind
of tnlk. It does not occur to them
(hat any one tuny take n further mean
ing than they have meant, or that tiny
pare of It will be taken seriously. It
Is unavoidable, however, that this Is
The nagging habit Is the real reason
why some women Mud It (lllllcult to re
tain servants. It Is for the sharpness
of their tongues that some really ex
cellent people are avoided and disliked
In society. People dread the tongue
Inshlngs that slip ho easily from Ihe
Hps nnd without real malice, hut they,
nevertheless, cut deep. Let us put u
guard on ourselves und sec (hat this
habit of sarcastic speech and nagging
Is nut ours. The Chinese have a say
ing that "A man's conversation Is (he
mirror of his thoughts." There Is n
truth In It. If we habitually talk In
a certain wny, we grow lo be that way
In character. Milwaukee Journal.
A Smart Man's Clover Itusr.
"I saw your wife In n' car with you
the other day," said a friend to the
gay Wall street broker. "I thought shu
was going to stay South over tho holi
days." "She thought so, too," and the brok
er smiled. "She was with friends down
there for n long time, and kept writ
ing mo not to tell her to tomo back
"How did you manngc It?"
"I didn't write for her to eoroe back,
I Just sent her last mouth's gas bill.
It was for 11 cents. She got here two
days later, aud her trunks have been
coming In on every train since."
Then they both smiled. Now York
Tunnol Under North Channel,
Tho estimated cost of a submurlno
tunnel from Wlgton, Scotland, to Lame.
Ireland, twenty-three miles, Is $50,000,
000. There Is no Immediate prospect of
its being built
Under n law passed two years age
the Hungarian government may subsi
dize almost any kind of manufactory.
Every kind father should drop mon
ey Into tho children's bank. In order
that their mother can bo supplied with
Lawyer (examining Itnessi - Whoi o
was your itialil nt the tlttie? I.aily-lu
my boudoir arranging my hair. Lawyer-And
wore you there also? Lady
(lliillguaiitl) l - Hlii-Clilcngo Journal.
iiio Chicago Man -Well nluit did you
think of New York? The Colorado
Man-Thought it was n mining town
when I II is I struck It. Homebody wtm
digging In nearly every street. -Yon-Uvis
Mtltllice gill's note: "I must see you
at any cost." Actor's answer: "All
tight; buy n ticket for our next per
The exact plncu; Teacher-James,
you tuny tell where (he Declaration
of Independence was signed. James
Please, uiii'am, at (ho bottom. -In-itlalitipolls
"Have you iiiailo any progress with
your new uuvrl?" asked his friend.
"Oh, yes," said (ho bustling young
author; "I've selected a uiiiiio and a
press agent." Htookly n Life.
Cholly-Seeti Miishaw since ho cmmi
from Purls? Dolly-No. douh buy I
Why? Cholly-Oh, why sluco his slay
tlicru ho picks Ills teeth with qtlltu a
French accent, don't y' knowl-Ex.
One of ninny: Mr. Olllls Surely,
Miss Gray, you haven't rorgotten mo
already? Why, I proposed to yu at
the Hcn-shoru Inst summer. Miss Uruy
(much piuzledl-Oin t you recall nutuo
other Incident V-J udff.
French Professor-Ah, yes. inndeinol
selle, you spick zo Flench wkout tn
leiiHt accent. Miss Breezy- Ileal kind
of you to say so. but do I really? Uli.
yesl .at ess, wlzotit zo least French
i.ndy," said Meandering Mike, "havo
you any coffee or mlticu plu r "
"Haven't you been beru twlco befere?"
"l.udy, I have. I'm too good a judgo
of cooLlu' to let such performances in
yours go wlt'out nil encore." Washing
"Ignorance." remarked young Ilorcm,
"they say, Is bliss." "Oh. thul prnba
bly accounts for It," rejoined Miss Cut
ting. "Accounts for whuff" queried
the youth. "Tho contented and nappy
look you usually wear," she replied.
"Do unto others us you would lure
others do unto you," said Markley.
"That's the golden rule, and 1 bellevn
In It. too. Don't you?" "Well." roplU'd
Burroughs. "If I did I'd be offering to
lend you ten dollars this mlnuto."
Turning the question: I'ltinegan
Thlin trusts Is the ruin av our country.
Trusts to the nation. Is lolku n bile on
n moil's soldo. Trusts Is Fngan
I'll wilt's the use tiilkln'? Why don't
ye, put a poultice on tho bile, an' let
llllklus (sulU'i'lng from a heavy cold)
I met forty-live dlllerent acquaint
ances this morning, and Just forty four
of them told me or some euro tor a
cold. Wife Didn't the furty llrth offer
any ndvlco? Bllklns-No; he had a cold
himself. New York Weekly.
The Parson "I hope you are not go
ing fishing on .Sunday, my little man."
The Kid "Oh. no. sir. I am merely
carry. ug this pule so that those wick d
boys across the street will not stmpoct
that I am on my way to Sunday
school." New York .luuriial.
"What makes you run your articles
across two columns Instead of tho
usual way?" "Hecailhe." answered tho
editor, "I nni a truthful man, and I
desire my conscience lo be at perfect
ease when I assert that my paper Is
widely read."-Washington Star.
As n ninn nnd Ills wife were pnsslng
a school, a (lying snowball hit the wlfo
of his bosom In the neck He was en
raged, and Justly, mid turning to tho
schoolboys, slinking his (1st In nngor,
he cried: "It's lucky for you, yon rns
cnls. that you didn't hit mo."-Tlt Hits.
"How can you plough straight fnr
rows over Btieh nn enormous coratielii
as this?" asked the Engllshinna, who
had never been la Knttsns heforo.
"That's easy." said the native. "Wo
follow the parallels of latitude nud tho
meridians af longitude." Chicago Trib
une, "Too bad about the Subbub.i. They
were going to hnvc n big cclohruHon
last night. Inviting nil their neighbors
to dinner. Hut their cook heard what
the eelehrntlon was for, and she left."
"What was K for?" "In honor of the
fact that she had been with tbem a
whole month." Philadelphia Pret,
"Yes." said the Fnlry Prince, "you
may have whutover you want for a
Christmas present." "I will choose."
said the Fortunate Person, "either a
wife or nn automobile" "How fool
ish!" cxclnlmed the Fairy Prhee.
"Why do you net select something that
yon can manage?" Haltlruoro Auverl
ean, Mrs. Winks Why la theworld rtldn't
you write to me while you were wny?
Mrs. UlnkH-1 (lid write. Mrs. Winks
Then I presume yon gave the lettrr to
your husband to mall and he Is still
carrying It uronntl In his pocket, Mrs.
Minks No I posted the letter ntysrlf.
Mrs. Winks Ah taea It Is lay hus
band's pocket New York Weekks.
One on him; Hardware Dealer
What was old Krankey kicking atxnrt?
Clerk He wauUd ten pounds of oolls.
Said he'd pay for them und take tbeat
heme himself. Wouldn't trust us to riV
llvrr them, he said. Hardware Dealer
-Hnrly old codger. I hope he'll sweat
for It. Clerk-Oh, I look care of Hurt
1 threw In an extra ten pounds nnd
never knew tt.-I'htlndeipbla Piew.