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tl.tri HMlim'IM:.!HMMMHlMIIHimHM1M'MimUHIW
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By SIR WALTER UCSANT
CHAPTKP. .Will. Continued.)
"Nobody ever believed that you were
robbed. Mr. Lelghan." 1 went on. "Hut
the finding of tli money seems to show
thst you rosily were robbed while you
were insensible. Perhaps we shall find
the paper, too, some day."
"Perhaps wo shall." he said. "If they
are in the hand of rogues ami villain,
I shall be much the better for It. Enough
aid about my robbery, it U Strang,
too: both on the same day " I knew
not then what he meant. "Both on the
name i1av and after six Ions year.
What can this mean? Will," he said.
eagerly, "tell me I never did any harm
to you; you've never had any land to
mortgage tell me, do you know nothing
of the papers? When you found this bag
did you hear nothing about the papers?"
"1 know nothing. How should 1?"
"Well, it matters little; I am not con
cerned with the robber, but with the
runn who has them now. I must deal
with him; and, there, you cannot help
m. unless uo no I cannot ask it; you
would not help me."
"Anyhow, Mr. Leighsn, you're sot
twenty pounds back again. That Is
something. Confess that you are pleas
ed." "Young mr.n. if yon torture a man
all over with rheumatic pains, do you
think he Is pleased to find that they
Lave left his little finger, while they are
till red-hot irons all over the -rest of
his body? That is my case."
"I am sorry to hear it At the same
time, twenty pounds, as I ssid before,
ii something."
"It's been lying Idle for six years.
Twenty pounds at compound Interest I
don't spend my interest. I promise- you
would now be six-and-tweuty pounds.
I've lost six pounds."
I laughed. A man who knows not the
alue of interest laughs easily. I ex
pect, therefore, to gj on laughing all the
days of my life.
"As for the papers, there's a dead loss
of one hundred and fifty pounds a year.
Think of that.' All these years I've wait
ed and hoped yes, I've prayed actual
ly prayed that I might get my papers
back again. Three thousand pounds theru
re, among these papers, besides the cer
tificates and things that I could replace
Nearly all Mary's fortune lost."
"No," I said. "Don't flatter yourself
that you lost any of Mary's money. It
was your own money. You are trustee
for Mary's fortune, remember, and you
will have to pay it over in fulL"
He winced and groaned.
"Three thousand pounds! With the
interest It would now be worth nearly
Jour thousand pounds at five per cent.
And now all as good as lost!"
"Well, Mr. Leighsn, I am sorry for
you, Tery sorry, particularly as you will
hare to find that fortune of Mary's Tery
soon."
"Shall I, Master Will Nethercote? I
shall give Mary her fortune when I
please; not at all, unless I please. Mary
has got to be obedient and submissive
to me, else she won't get anything.
When I give my consent to her mar
riage, and not till then not till then
1 shall have to deliver up her fortune.
Good-night to you, Will Nethercote."
CHAPTER XIX.
During these days David led the life
of a solitary. He sometimes went to
the inn; he went to the village shop on
the green to buy what he wanted, and
he kept wholly to himself. Except for
that daily visit to Gratnor, he talked to
no one.
From time to time I met him leaning
over the field g:ites, loitering along the
lanes, or sitting idly under the shade of
one of our high hedges. I suppose that
his loafing and wandering life had made
work of any kind distasteful to him. His
face was not a pleasant one to gaze upon,
and for a stranger would have been ter
rifying. At this time we knew from
Mary that he went nearly every day to
Gratnor, but we bad no suspicion of
what was said or done there. My own
thoughts, indeed, were wholly occupied
with the fortunes of George Sidcote, and
I gave small heed to this sulky hermit.
"David," I asked htm, meeting him
one day face to face so that he could
not slip out of my way, "why do you
never come over to Sidcote? Have we
offended you In any way?"
"No," he replied, slowly, as if he was
thinking what he ought to reply "no;
I don't know exactly that you have of
fended me."
"Come over this evening and tell us
what you think about doing."
"No. I don't think I can go over
this evening."
"Choose your own time, but come be
fore I go back to London."
"George will be turned out of his place
before the end of the year. The old man
told me so. Then he'll go, too. Mary
says she will go with George. Then I
shull be left alone with Uncle Dan." He
laughed quietly. "I think I shall go and
live at Gratnor, and take care of him.
We shull have happy times together,
when you are all gone and I am left
alone with him."
"Why, David, you wouldn't harm the
poor old man now, would you?"
"Not harm him? Not harm him? Did
you ask him six years ago if he was
goiug to harm me? Will he barm George
Sidcote now?"
You cannot force a man to be sociable,
nor can you force him to entertain
thoughts of charity, forgiveness sud long
suffering. I made no more attempts to
lead the man back to better ways and
old habits.
And all the time, every day David was
carrying on, slowly and ruthlessly, the
most systematic revenge, with the most
exquisite tortures. Every day he went
to Gratnor and dangled before his vic
tim some of his property, and mads him
buy it back bit by bit, haggling over the
bargain; letting his uncle have It one day
cheap, so as to raise his spirits, and the
uext at nearly Its full value, so as to
crush biui again; and even at times, af
ter an hour's bargain over a single, cou
11
sort's Desire
Eaj
pon. he would put it In the fire and de
stroy it.
When David went away, the poor old
man would fall to weeping; this hard,
dry old man. whom nothing ever moved
before, would shed tear of Impotent
and bitter rage. Hut he rvfused to tell
Mary what was troubling him.
"1 can't tell you what it is," he said.
"You don't know what the consequence
might be if I told you. Oh. Mary, I
am a miserable old man! I wish I was
dead and burled and that It w as all over
I wish It was all over!"
"It is something," said Mary, "to do
with David. I will go and speak to hliu
about It."
"No, Mary, no;" he cried, eagerly.
"Mind your own business, child. IVm't
attempt to Interfere. Oh! you don't
know what might happen If jxu Inter
fered." "It Is David, then. Very well, uncle.
I shall not ask him what It Is."
"I can't tell anybody, Mary; I must
bear it In patience. If I resist I shall
only lose the more. Mary, we've got to
be very careful In the housekeeping now
very careful."
"I am always careful, uncle."
"There was a pudding again to-day.
I can't afford any more pudding for a
long while not till Christmas. And I'm
sure there's waste and riot In the kitch
en." "Nonsense, uncle! Yon not afford a
pudding? Now, remember, you are not
to be starved, and there's no waste or
riot."
CHAPTER XX.
I terminated my holiday with a med
dling and a muddling. Of course, I was
actuated by the best intentions. Every
meddler and muddler is, otherwise he
might be forgiven.
I made my attempt with no success
on my last evening at Ch alia combe, when
the old man had taken his tes, and might
reasonably be expected to be milder than
during the press of business In the morn
ing. I had not seen him for three weeks.
I was struck with the change that had
come over him during this short period.
It was that subtle change which we mean
when we say that a man has "aged. In
Mr. Leighan's case, his hands trembled,
he looked feebler, and there was a loss
of vitality in his eyes.
"What do you want?" he asked. Im
patiently. "You are come for Mary?
Well, she Isn't here. You ought to know
that she always goes out after tea. You
will find her somewhere about on the
Ridge or down the lane, somewhere."
He turned his head and took up his pen
again. I observed that he was poring
over a paper of figures.
"No, Mr. Lelghan, I came to see you.
I have come to see you about George
and Mary."
"Go on, then. Say what you want to
say. ben a man is tied to his chair he
is at the mercy of every one who comes
to waste his time."
I spoke to him ss eloquently as I
could. I told him he onght to consider
how Mary had been his housekeeper and
his nurse for six long years, during which
he had been helplessly confined to his
chair. If he refused his consent to ber
marriage she would go away, not only
from his house, but from the parish; he
would be left in the hands of strangers,
who would waste and spoil his sub
stance.
"Young man," he said, "I never asked
for or expected any other service than
what Is paid for. Mary's services have
been paid for. If she goes I shall find
another person, who will be paid for her
Kervices. Mary has had her board and
her bed, and she's done ber work to earn
her board and her bed; I don't see any
call for gratitude there; as for good feel
ing, that's my business. Now, young
man, George Sidcote's land is mortgaged.
As he says he can no longer pay the In
terest, I have sent up the caaa to Lon
don and have got the usual order; he
has six months in which to pay princl-
pay and Interest. At the end of that
time, because he can't and won't pay, hi
land will be mine. As for what Is dons
afterward, I promise nothing."
"You will lose Msrv for one thing."
"I have told you that L in that case.
shall hire another person."
"Very well. You will have to pay
Mary's fortune to ber consin David, be
cause she will marry without your con
sent."
"Have the goodness, Mr. Will Nether
cote, to leave me to my own affairs,"
"This affair Is mine as well as yours.
Do you prefer David to Mary? Yon
must choose between them, you know. I
have read the will. You think," I said,
"that David does not know of his aunt's
will. Yof hope that he will go away
presently without finding out." He start
ed and changed color, and In his eyes I
read the truth. He thought that David
would never find out. "So, Mr. Lelghan,"
I went on, "that Is In your mind. He
lives alone, and speaks to no one; his
sunt died after he went away; It is very
possible that he does not know anything
about it. Good heavens! Mr. Lelghan,
were you actually thinking to hide ths
thing from him, and so to rob him? Yes;
to rob Mary first and David afterward
of all this money?"
"What business Is It of yours?" he
askedl.
"Very good; I shall tel David."
"Oh! if I were thirty Instead of seven
ty I would " he began, his eyes flash
ing again with ail their ancient fire.
"I shall go to David, Mr. Lelghan. If,
as I believe, he knows nothing about It,
you will see how he will receive ths
news. Yes; you shall be between the
two; you shall choose between David
and Mary."
Yes; I bad stumbled on ths exsct
truth as accidentally as I bad stumbUtd
on the canvas bag. David did not know,
nor had bis unole chosen to inform him
though hs was certain from his talk
that he did not knowof his aunt's will,
deeply as it affected him. And I am now
quite certain that ths old man thought
that David would not find oat ths truth
before he went away again, and so he
would keep the metier to himself.
"Don't tell him. Will." said the old
man, changing bis tone. "Don't Interfere-
between David and toe; It is danger
ous. Yon don't know what mischief you
may be doing. As for George- and Mary,
1 will arrange something. They shall go
on at Sidcote n tenants on easy tonus
on very easj tonus. Hut don't toll
David, lie Is a very dangerous man.
Don't tell him."
"I will not tell him anything, If you
; will glvs Mary your consent."
"David will n it st.iy here long. When
he has gone- oh. dear! when he has
got some more money ho will go sway.
lV.n't tell him."
"Yon have to give th'it money either to
Mary or to David. Choose!" I rvpent
ed. "Who are you, I should like to know,"
he asked, with a feeble show of anger,
"that you should come and Interfere In
family matters? What business Is It ot
your? (Jo away to Iondon. Manage,
your own affairs if you've got any. You
are not my mphev."
"Choose between Mary and David."
"I must have Sidcote." he said, with
a kind of moan. He clutched at the arms
of his chair, his fnoe twitched convulsive
ly, and he spoke feebly. "I have lost so
much lately I have suffered so horribly
you don't know how, young man, or
you would pity me. I have been pun
Ished, perhaps, because I wa too pros
perous you don't know how, anil you
can't guess. If I lose Sidcote, too, I shall
die. You don't know, young gentleman
you don't know what It Is to suffer as
I have suffered."
"Then I shell go at once to David and
tell him."
"I must have Sidcote. Do your
worst!" he cried, with some appearance
of his old fire and energy. "Do your
worst. Tell David what you please, and
leave me to deal with David. I will "
He shook his head and pointed to the
door.
I told David that very evening. He
was sitting at his table, a large open
book before him, over which he was por
ing Intently. He looked up when he
heard my step outside, and shut the book
hurriedly.
"What do you want here?" he asked,
roughly. "Why do you come prying af
ter me?"
"Upon my word, David," I said, "one
would think we were old enemies Instead
of old friends."
"Speak up, then," he replied, his eyes
suspicious snd watchful, as If I was try
ing to get into hi cottage and steal
something. "Speak up; let a man know
yonr business. If you had no business
you would not come here, I take It."
"It Is business that may concern you
very deeply," I said. And then I told
him.
"Well," he said, slowly, "I suppose you
mesn honest, else why should you tell
me? Perhaps you've got a score against
the old man. too. This wants thinking
of, this does. So the old woman had
six thousand, had she? And Mary Is
to have It if she marries with her uncle's
consent and If she doesn't, I'm to have
It."
"Mary will marry George with or with
out her uncle's consent; I csn tell you
that beforehand. She will marry him
within a very few weeks."
"Nay," he said, "rather than give me
the money he'd let her marry the black
smith." At this point I came away, for fear he
might try even to get beyond that possi
bility; and the mess I had almost made
of ths whole business proves, as I said
before, that there Is no excuss whatever
for the best Intentions.
(To be continued.)
8HE CAN INTERE8T CHILDREN
Bo This Woman with a Single Gift la
Able to Earn Her Living.
One woman who looks forward to
a long and Idle summer without ap
prehension has gone to Europe to
travel. She has a letter of credit am
ple for her purposes, and will be able
to remain abroad until November.
All this good fortune Is the result
of making a specialty for herself when
she started out to earn a living several
yearn ago. She had a very small capi
tal. She could Imitate children won
derfully, and her quaint little face was
not unlike a child's. She had, more
over, the facult7 of Interesting chil
dren greatly.
"I remember," she says, when her
unusual work Is referred to, "the story
of the fox and the cat who met In
the forest when the King was hunt
ing." " 'Well, I only know how to do one
thing," said the cat, modestly. 'It's
my only trick.'
" 'You don't say so! replied the fox,
patronizingly. 'Why, I can do no end
of tricks.'
"The cat stared at the fox envious
ly and was suddenly aroused by hear
ing the horns of the King's hunters
and the barking of the dogs. The cat
ran up the tree, and, sitting on a
branch, watched the approach of the
cavalcade with serenity.
" 'I thought you could do only one
thing,' cried out the distracted fox as
be ran away.
"'I can,' the cat answered. 'But
this happens to be rny trick.'
"Then the cat had the satisfaction
to see the dogs, after barking about
the foot of the tree, run after the fox.
" 'Now, like the cat," the woman
says in conclusion, "I could do one
thing. It was amuse children."
She devoted herself to acquiring In
teresting stories for children. She
even sang and danced for them, and
dressed herself up like a child.
The result was such delight on their
part that their mothers were always
anxious to engago her for parties. She
had all she could do, and has doubled
her fee for next year.
As tbre are always more children
growing up, and the mothers all have
a hlgJa opinion of her, her employment
Is not likely to be exhausted soon.
Washington Post
Personal.
Catharine Poor Percy! II seemed
worried while be was reading the pa
per. MyrtWa Poor fellow! He found out
that Um lobster trust Is a reality.
Uoo.l, (simple Hut HliiiUrr.
All Iowa fnnu.'r riles Hint In hi
pint of tli,. country, wIumv a largo
amount of liny Is raised, but few farm
er have burn room enough t
hold It. so nr compelled to stack It.
In stacking liny nut of doors sonic
loss Is unavoidable, but an effort
should he made to reduce (Ills loss to
the minimum. one or the greatest
mistakes Is making the stack too
small. The smaller (tie Mack In. the
larger the proportion of bay Is spoil
ed by being on the top, bottom or
sides. In making n large stack, ii
stacker of some kind Is n necessity,
and the one Illustrated here seems to
be best allfiiound device for the pur
pose. The device stands strnddle of
the stack and Is held In place by brace
smn.K it at STACKvn.
ropes. The buy rope runs through u
pulley In the cross piece. Drive the
load of hay up to one cud of the stuck
to unload. After you have tried tills
method, says the farmer correspond
ent, you will never stack another load
of hay by hand.
Cupiu-lty of Writs.
A ready rule for arriving approxi
mately at the number of gallon per
foot of water: From the square of
the bottom' diameter of the well. In
Inches, cut off one figure and divide
ly three. Thus: If the well Is sixty
Inches In diameter, i'.oxi'.o equals .'1, ":
cut off one figure It leaves Itiin. This,
divided by three gives l.o, which Is
the number of gallons for each foot of
depth. If, therefore, the depth of wa
ter were found to be tell feet, the
available supply In the well would be
l.l'ixi Dillons. As the bottom diame
ter of a well Is sometimes less than
the top diameter, care must be taken,
In ascertaining the volume, n above,
to adopt, for the purpose of calcula
toln, the diameter of the part where
the water Is: A lighted candle lower
ed down the well will serve to show
any breaks of diameter above water
level. American Cultivator.
When the Cow Chokes.
A neighbor turned his cows Into his
orchard with fallen apples. One cow
became badly choked with an tipple.
We took a piece of rubber hone three
feet long, rather stiff; we greased this
with lard, held the cow's head up
and shoved the hose down her throat,
pushing the apple down In the stom
ach. A piece of rubber about 1 '4
Inchon in diameter Is the proper slz.e.
Cow all right. Another plan I have
tried with good success. Soon ns the
cow Is choked lose no time In getting
her Into t)io .stanchion, draw the bead
up with a rope and fasten. Melt one
pint lard, put in ll long-nocked bottle;
while warm pour down throat. She
will struggle to throw lard cut; the
throat being well greased will cnu-.e
the apple or potato to slip out easily.
Exchange.
Plun of Grain Ham.
The cut shown the plan of a barn,
which combines capacity with cheap
ness. Tho upright supports may bo
either 4x0 posts, or round poles, and
where largo flat stones are not avail
able may be set In holes with concrete
In tho bottom and nil around tho posts
well up and beveled at top, bo as to
shed the water. Tho barn is 42 feet
wide by tiny desired length, the Bldo
posts to bo set S feet npart. On ac
count of the double angle of tho roof
purllno posts are not required. As
there are no timbers In tho center thero
is plenty of room for hay.
Cows for the Dairy.
Before tho dulryman can bo success
ful In either branch be must draw the
line between tho breeds that excel In
yield of milk and those that give milk
rich In cream. Tho first tiling the
scientific dairyman does is to select
the breed for the purpose be mny have
In view. The next will be to feed In
such a manner as to secure the larg
est yield of eltner milk or butter In
proportion to co,t ' tood, and the
KAY DOOM
QL.-S - A-- JJ.. 1
IHDVItW
cost of tho food depends upon its
adaptability for conversion Into I!h
Ingredients entering Into the compo
sition of lllllll.
One Man Crosscut Nw,
Most crosscut saws are made with
two handles mid are Intended to be
used by two men,, but It Is frequently
desirable on the farm to have the saw
available for use by n single man.
Logs to be sawed may be too largo
for the bucksaw, mid a sharp one
man crosscut will saw almost If not
fully as fast as a bucksaw and with
out the back breaking effect. In
any
net
TWO Il ASlrt II NII IT ON CllosStTT SAW
event, whether II saw Is to be used by
one or two men, It Is an advant.io,
says mi Ohio Fanner writer, to liuv.
one end of It furnished with a lv
handed handle. Some small crosscuts
are made with such n handle at one
end (Fig 11. but. If not, the ordinary
handle can bo removed from liny
broad bladed saw and a homemade
handle Inserted (Fig V.. Ill use, tho
sawyer will, of course, hold the main
stein with his left bund while with
bli right he will grasp the lower and
forked part of the handle, lie will be
surprised at his Increased command
over the working of the Implement.
I. Ire on Cuttle or Hos.
Prof. Thomas Shaw, of St. Paul,
recommend the following preparation
for disposing of lice on cattle or hog:
Take one half pound of soft soap,
or common soap If the soft cannot bo
obtained, put this III one gallon of wa
ter and boll slowly until the soap 1
dissolved; then remove from the stove
mid add two gallon f coal oil, then
beat until the soapy water and oil are
thoroughly mixed, stirring It gently
In the meanwhile.
When you wish to apply It. take
what I necessary from this stock and
add from eight to ten times It bilk
of water and apply with a cloth or
brush. Make a second application
when the nits hatch out, usually about
tell days after, to destroy tills second
crop.
Handles for I.ure llrtakrta.
To make handles for bushel baskets,
save the hand pieces of all the worn
out water buckets, or else make others
like them, and passing a wire through,
bend It down at right angles to the
hand piece. Clipping the wire off at
I!ANII.I:S K)B IIAHKKT".
ii proper length which I about tl or
7 Inches, bend the end up Into hoop.
Taking two of these handles hoop
them In between the splits, under tho
rl III of the basket, on opposite sides,
and (julckly hav two good handles for
carrying n basket tilled with potatoes,
or any heavy article. The handles
can remain on the basket, or bo re
moved at will.
The Itiirnyiird.
There Is nothing so repulsive as n
wet and filthy barnyard, In which the
nnlmnls aro compelled to walk knee
deep In tilth. Such a condition Is not
necessary, and can be prevented If
the bnrnynrd is kept well supplied
with absorbent material. Throwing
wholo cornstalks Into the bnrnynrd Is
tho old method, but cornstalks do not
absorb until they aro trampled to
pieces, and in tho meantime much of
the Moulds are carried off by the
rains. It will pay to shred the corn
stalks or cut the straw for bedding,
while leaves and dry earth tuny also
bo used In the barnyard with advant
age. A New Fruit.
Tho belle of, tho ball Just now (hor
tlculturully speaking) is the peach
tomato! This lovely fruit-vegetable
Is of a glowing deep watermelon-red
color. It is exhibited by a fruiter In
the shape of one lino cluster. On this
cluster aro eight lino examples, all
clustered thickly together and beauti
fied by means of laurel leaves. One
of tho clusters is yet a deep red.
They aro said to bo of an exquisite
lluvor ond to contain few seeds.
Feed 1 n Hens,
liens like a variety of food, and
they should bo given as much 1n that
lino as possible. On the off mornings
give a feed of euual parts corn and
oatmeal, wet with milk, or boiled tur
nips or potatoes mixed with a little
wheat bran. All scraps from tho tabln
and refuse from the kitchen ahouhl
bo mixed with the morning feed. A
daily allowance of a small quantity of
meat, ground bone and oyster shells
should not be overlooked.
Our old and often recommended pre
ventive of lice In nests la a big hand
ful of dry slaked lime in the bottom of
nest boxes. A little carbolic acid is
put on the lime before It Is slaked.
Every time the ben steps In that nest
she 'stirs up the carboiated Urn dust
OP
Dr. Doyen, the noted French physb
clan, whose much heralded euro for
cancer has been pronouncisl a failure
by u committee
front the Paris
Academy of Medi
cine, has been tlm
recipient of much
criticism and some
laudation d u r I ng
r. i' -i "E
(V" "uotiths. lie cnino
to the notice or llio
American p u b I 1 (
In November last,
w hen G e o r g h
Crocker, of NtW
York brought suit against him for the
return of a medical fee of fjo.ism, al
leged to have been paid him on a guar
antee of a cure of Mrs. Crocker, a vic
tim of cancer. Mrs. Crocker died, and
her husband brought suit and mudii
some sensational charges, which wcro
so grave tffht the French academy, of
which the doctor was a member, ap
pointed a nmlttee to Investigate bis
alleged cure. That committee hits now
reported that It has been unable to llud
a casn which Dr. Doyen, has even re
lieved. Brigadier General William Hurtling
Carter, who has I i assigned to tho
command of the I e"ri inein of tho
Lakes, Is a dlstlu
gulsliitl soldier
w hose b o o U
"II o r s e s, Saddle
and Itrldles." Is tie
ti'tt'luiiih f o i
a.
mounted olllcers It
Nashvmo j$m
the army
horn at
Tenn., ami it-t
.it'
graduated from lie
military acadeiin
In ls7.-l. In time to
take part In tl x
(tl M H Al. 1 Alii 11.
petition against the Sioux. Later for
sixteen years Im saw arduous servlcti
In Arizona, ami for bravery In tlm
battle against Apaches at Clblcu
Creek, Aug. .'10, 1SSI, he received ft
modal of honor. During the Spanish
war General Carter rendered etllcleiit
service 111 the War Department.
Will Cninback. well known as an
author, politician and lecturer, died
recently at b's borne In t recnsbiirg.
hid. lie was born
n Indiana In 1".
md nrnotlcetl law
15 f", Vil I Greelisbiirg tho
:reater part of hU
vV-sS"' "l
' -J I .,1 in I'otiL'ress 1 tt
":. defeating W.
. llolmau 1 hi)
'Irst race, lie liead
t the Indiana elec
loral ticket 111 ISiIll,
was a paymaster In
the Flitted State
Wll.l. I I illlAt K
Army during the war, declined the po
sition of Minister to Portugal under
I 'resilient Grant, came within two
votes of being elected Fnltetl Stale
Senator In 1MK. served In the Statu
Senate and wa formerly Lieutenant
Governor of Indiana.
One of the speakers at the commcin.
oration exercises held at Sauit Ste. Ma
rie, Mich., In honor of Cut semi centen
nial of the opening
of the Soti Canal
was Peter White,
wlio Is known as
the "father of the
Lake Superior
country." lie Is
(lie president of the
S e m I -centenntlal
A s s o c I atloii and
was tho p r I in r
mover In the proj
ect to hold a cele
bration, lie was
bom In Home, N. Y., In 1K.H0, and l
cattsl In Green Bay, Wis., with his
father III IK'ti). Ho has been In tilt
lake country ever since, removing to
Marquette, Mich., ssn after the
town's founding, lie has been success
ful ns a merchant and a lawyer ami
has also been connected with mining
and railway Interests.
Judge William U. Cumin, who has
been sued by the Santa Fe Railroad
Company for fi cents, storage charges
ror one day on u
safe door shipped
from Chicago, Is
one of tho most
conspicuous attor
neys In Tazewell
enmity, III. For
thirty years ho has
been a resident of
I'ekln, and has en
Joyed a lucrative
legal practice. lie
Is a leader In the
ftV'' 4 WT
J I lull-. LXltUA.N.
councils of tho Uo
publlcan party, and for four years wus.
Judge of tho County Court.
Ilufiis Chornte once tried to get a Bos
ton witness to deline nhseiitiuiiidoiineas,
with the following rflsult: "I should say
that a man who thought that he'd left
his watch to hum and took It out'n to
see If hail time to go hum and get It was
a little absent minded."
Reginald Ward, American millionaire,
society man, friend of King Fdwurd, am
once a Boston broker, has ahuiidonei the
title of "count," conferred on him by
Pops Leo XIII., on account of adverse
criticism.
101. Inl I M.
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