—’
|N THE ORCHARD.
beneath thi* roof of green,
1 brew nie down aud dream again
'„.IJen dreams of what has Iwen
iud future harvest* yet to gain!
wheat ware* in the field close by,
»n *PPl«» ripened ere it* time.
_ from the tree, the sun's great eye
1 Seek» through the leave*, aud.
rhyme.
LIGHT AND SHADE
;Who»ypht|
_ bir,!* weave to nnd fro and sing
The very sonK" 1 would deciare.
« al now and then the branches swing
AStirred gently by a wandering air.
binders, clicking in the wheat,
whistle of a passing train,
Thr distant noise* of the street.
Are to my “"“»t • low refrain.
To-dav! Tosiay I rest at ease
Kn,j pick the golden fruit* that grow
1. «»iituile ou twig» of peace—
The fruits that only dreamer* know.
York New«.
______
i UNCLE MARTIN'S MONEY. I
--ROSEVILLE was asleep tn th»»
dullness of Sunday afternoon.
¿*Vin Mrs. Maloney's sitting room
there was the odor of strong tea. and
that meant that Mrs. Burns and Mrs.
llvan ha»i stayed over after mass for
Jinner and were having a friendly cup
<f tea before they start«! homeward
with the r husban Is. The men them-
>e|ves were hanging about the village
sjniewhere. There had been silence for
wnie minutes—a heavy, thoughtful
sJeuce—after Mrs. Maloney’s last re-
tnark. The good women were relatives,
cousins in th«» first degree. and Mrs.
Msloney had been talking of their ma
terual uncle.
"It's a perfei’t shame," she had said,
•Tncle Martin has a good deal of
money saved up, lam sure, He won’t
spend It himself and he won't give
anybody else a chance at it, and. like
as not. when he »lies, he'll leave It to
Father Shanahan for something or
ether that he happens to take Into his
head. Martin's getting dreadful pious
tn his old days, since he's been living
alone In the little house."
"He hasn't It in any bank at Falr-
brooke," said Mrs. Ryan, "because l’at
has asked.”
“Like as not," Mrs. Burns said, "be
has it hid In the house somewhere.
He's that queer about it, you never
»■an tell. He's always wishing he had
money enough for a trip to Chicago.
But the Lord knows that it is he that
could go If be wanted to. Not a chick
nor a child to hold him."
1 Mrs. Maloney looke! thoughtfu'ly at
the speaker. "I saw him get In with
the McGoverns after mass. He was
going out to. the farm to dinner with
them. \Ve might walk over to the
house, and if he's in, give him a little
visit. If he isn't------”
"The key Is uhder the doormat,"
saiil Mrs. Burns.
Anil over to Uncle Martin's the go» d
li.idis went. He was not at home,
» nil the key was under the mat. The
I Louse, though generally dean, had th ■
I ad of being managed by a man. which
I women see at once. The pipe was laid
away wllh the cups and saucers, and
a pair of shoes stood prominently on
one of the chairs. But none of them
hail any eyes for these incongruities
tr-day.
“How much,” said Mrs. Maloney,
“do you think he might have?” as she
drew out a drawer of the old bureau
and began going through it.
"A thousand or so,” said Mrs. Burns,
from th«» d pth of an old rag bag.
'! don't bellrve it's that much." >afd
1
Mrs. Ryan, as she went through the
(old cans ni d Jugs stored away in the
closet.
| They were so busy that
tbat they did not
hear a step outside. Just as the three
of them concluded to look through the
corusbucks in the- tick.
Rut all their digging brought forth
nothing but a few cents laid away f< r
ready change, less than a dollar alto-
get her.
Red in the face with hurry, and a
little bit ashamed. too. they put things
back as best they could.
“I wonder where he has it, any­
way?"
"Do you suppose It Is that he really
hasn't any. as he says?" said Mis.
Burns.
1 "Pshaw!” said Mrs. Maloney, skep-
Bcally.
The next morning, however, Mrs
Maloney was to have more exact
kn wle.lt. ïe as to the amount of Uncle
Martins money. Her husbnnd. who
was the village constable, along with
l*:ng the biggest storekeeper, came
In to her excliedly.
"Uncle Martin was Just in the store.
<n»l he says somebody has stolen his
money. He says there were signs of
»onielsdy lielng In Ills place when he
came home yesterday evening, and he
thinks he can find out who it was."
Mrs. Maloney was skimming the
•°np. and abe almost dropped the
After a few moments sh“
maungid to control herself enough to
ask:
"How much does he say he had?"
“One hundr»>d and fifty doll irs.
would have thought he'd hive had
more." But Mrs. Maloney made no
Protest
She was suddenly thankful
’hat the old man was satisfied
♦hat.
"And then, think,” went on
husband, "of the shame on the town.
There hasn't been anybody In the Jail
for more than five years—not since —"
■Mrs. Maloney interrupted him:
M hat's Uncle Martin going to do
•bout It?"
'He's gone off to see if be can get
•vldence. He has a suspicion
Is »: he's going to be gone until
en ng. and then he’s to 1st me
He’a-
nmons from the store c
nd Mrs. MaUney
Watti^ulnhnVelrIM“rrAdU.rO*
alk!‘" «iTes ,n «cellent developer.
excXnt hi
“’» o “Ud ‘dUrO1 f°rm ,h“ W,’rki,'K
’“ieh gives
usual »miiiiti»'
?r'u°UJ ,h<*
fog. Only when under-exposed, the
»ears slowiv ‘“ ka "
’* adl,e'1 ,o ,h‘* ^▼«‘lop«'- The picture ap-
veu as much as a minute,
minute when over-exposed, Bro-
mid» rx* . o < “'»R'K
e, * « >eu
ni.le of potassium Is a good retarder for adurol. I In u the
,;.r ™
collodion-emulsion
settlement511?01
grW“ “dva“,a«'‘ of hydrochinone.
------- preventing the
ttliment of any Impure matter at less pure pla.-es A » great advantag«» Is
also the strong Insensibility of the materials toward the ,» carbonic acid of the
atmosphere.—Photo. Times.
Window Transparencies.—Old cast-off negatives can excellently be made
use o . A strong fixing soda solution, to which is added an abundant quantl­
tio.?i?'1 Pn“,i,ate of I'ntasslum. is prepared as reducer, and
ami in
in this
t
prepara-
n h V V 1. h
UnlU
the ol<1
entirely «»»«Ipjieare«l.
disappeared. The plates
«I,...
.
— P,cture® have «ru.ueij
1 •» "**» WHsll,’d anil dried. For sensitizing, the ordinary blue solution,
consisting of equal parts of a solution of green oxide of Iron ammonia and
red prussiate of potasaium. Is applied. (The formula for this will follow at
tire end » The bath should act for at least five to six minutes, after which
n p a es are taken out. and are placed in a dark room to dry. On the
following day print under a negative. The exposure should not be too short,
and a little overexposure will do no barm. When the plate is taken from
>e printing frame, put it. film side up. In a tray with water, and the dia­
positive will almost at once appear clearly. If the exposure was too long
the shadows will remain yellow; but this will <lo no harm, ns the further
treatment will make this discoloration disappear again. Prepare now a so­
lution of ordinary soda (about 10 per cent.) am! bathe th«» well-washed dia­
positive. It seems to disappear completely, the whole picture becomes yel­
low and thin. Now wash again thoroughly, ami put the plate in very’di­
luted muriatic acid- about 1 to 80 and you will be astonished how slow ami
handsome the blue picture Is building up. As soon as the desired Intensity
has been obtained, wash again and dry on a rack. The formula for prepar­
ing th«» blue solution Is according to Professor Valenta:
Solution 1 Red prussiate of potassium. 4.5 g.; distilled water. 50 g. So­
lution 2—Green citric oxide of iron ammonia. 12.5 g.; dlstillesi water. 50 g.
Equal parts of Solutions 1 and 2 are mixed. For a few 9x12 plates 30 to 40
c. c. m. sensitizing solution are sufficient.—Photographic Times.
guilty women managed to get the »150
together.
Toward six o'clock Mrs. Mai ney
slipped Into Martin's little house and
put the money Into the tick. The next
morning early, when the Maloneys
were at their breakfast. Uncle Martin
appeared, chuckling. "It was In the
straw tick," he r«»ported truthfully
enough. "Moved about a little.
I
guess I’ve made up my mind to take
that trip to Chicago. 1 am so glad
after my scare that I feel like cele­
brating. And you never can tell what
may happen." he went on, chuckling
anew, and looking at his niece.
"That's right, that's right." sal»! her
husband. “You might as well have
the good of it yourself. You worked
hard enough for It.”
Mrs. Maloney choked, and set down
the cup of coffee she was drinking,
nnd rose hastily fiom the table. Uncle
Martin look«-il on sympathetl ally.
But the chagrined and angry woman
had one consolation. She knew that
there were two others no less uncom­
fortable than she to find the old man
going merrily to Chicago on their
hard-earned money.
Alas, curiosity Is the ancient sin of
woman, and it seems to take many
lessons to break her of it.—New Y.rk
News.
GIUSEPPE SARTO—POPE Pll 8 X
... .June 2. 1835
Born at Klose. Province of Venice, Italy..............
............. 1848 18511
Educated In the seminaries of Treviso and Padua
............. 18f>6 18.58
A student at the Sacra Theologia, Rome
1858
Ordalaed as a priest....................................
18» 17
Appointed parish priest at Salsano..........
1875
Elected Chancellor of the Bishopric of Treviso
...Nov. 10. 1884
Appointed Bishop of Mantua................................
.. .June 12, 1893
Made a Cardinal Priest..........................................
.. .June 15, 1893
Recognized by Pope I.eo as Patriarch of Venice..
. .. .Aug. 4. 1903
Elected Pope....................................................................
The new head of the Catholic Church. Cardinal Joseph Sarto, who has
taken the title of Plus X. ascends the Papal throne at the same age as his
predecessor. Pope I-eo XIII. He brings to tbat exalted office the same noble
qualities as those of the departed Pontiff. He lias been distinguished for
his learning, the purity of bls life and his liberal Ideas, so that there will
probably be little change in the policy of the Holy See. either In Its internal
administration or In Its broader relatione to the world at large.
The election of Cardinal Sarto, since 1893 the patriarch of Venice, was
somewhat of a surprise. His name was not prominently mentioned among
those who. In the popular estimate, were likely to be chosen. He was men
tioned, however, as a compromise candidate.
The election apparently gives world-wide satisfaction. The church in
France and Germany favors the choice and here in tlie United States the
leaders of tlie hlerarhcy say that no more acceptable person could be se-
lected. Thus the new Pontiff enters U|x>n his duties amll general expression
of good will.
Cardinal Sarto was born at lllese, Province of Venice, June 2. 1835. In
1893 he was created Cardinal anil Patriarch of Venice. He has had a wide
reputation for his learning, especially in ecclesiastical affairs. an<l lias l»een
noted as a g»>»xl organizer and administrator—qualities which ar»» requisite In
Papal affairs. He Is a liberal patron of the arts, ns so many of his prede­
cessors have lieen. and despite his 68 years Is a man of energy an«l activity.
Cardinal Sarto belonge»l to th»- ecclesiastical congregations of bishops ami
regulars, sacred rites. Indulgences and «acre»! relics. He enjoyed grt-at pop­
ularity In his diocese. He la honored by all for his purity, for the strict up­
rightness of his life, and for liberal Ideas, lie Is a modest and agreeable
man. highly cultivated and very kltxl hearted. He has never taken great part
In the political and public life of the church; but divided hla time between
study and good works. Although most faithful to the Holy Hee he »vas pre­
sented to the King and Queen of Italy In Venice. He was considered among
the moat liberal members of the Italian episcopate and Macro»! College.
Although little la known of the new Pope’s political tendencies, he Is con-
sldered to be one likely to avoid conflicts and to continue the moderate pol­
icy of Pope I-eo am! Cardinal Rampolla. Officials In Rome recall his tactful
course In receiving the Klug and Queen of Italy at Venice, which removed
much of the friction hitherto existing, and led to a warm friendship between
Sarto and Queen Helena. This Incident Is cited ns an evidence of his concil­
iatory disposition and the likelihood of no material change taklDg place In the
policy of the Vatican. The new Pope is one of the greatest preachers of the
church.
as »9,000,000 in currency when he un- j
dertook to corner the wheat market. .
An attempt to bull Jersey C<»ntral |
stocks, conducted at the same time as
the wheat corner, was similarly un­
profitable, for the stock went down
f rty points in one day. Whether
Keene might have succeeded In his
wheat corner or not will never posi­
tively be known, for the attempt mis­
carried when a forgeil telegram wa«
sent from New York to Ills Chicago
brokers ordering them to sell 2.(101.0(10
bushels of wheat. They threw It on
the market. It became known that
K«»ene was selling, and before all the
evils lrid la-ell reckoned with Keene
was »(’>.000.000 loser on wheat. Jers y
Central cost him over »1,001,000.
Keen«» came back In 1880, when
stocks took an upward tri nd and he'd 1
It. and those w ho had expecttsl to s«e
him wane noted his return t > fortune'«
favor in a nu.re lavish form than he
had ever en lived It. Ills wealth on pa­
per rose to »20,000.000. He then went
Into every game In the market, and
the seesaw of the street and of othi-r
men's brains In conflict with his stea I-
lly wore down Ills fortune so that in
April, 1881. he was b lieved to be at
the end of the road. He went on de*
perately, rallying by an occasional
coup, but being overwhelmed by the
collapse of a dial In Northern Pacific.
JIM KEENE.
He then took to d allng In privileges,
and he sold these so recklessly and
Who Has Had Hie l!p. and Downs in
the market turned so unfortunately
Speculation.
that he entangled himself beyond hop»
Jim Keene, the well-known broker, of redemption, nnd In 1*84 failed
who wax recently squeezed to the tune again.
of $2 000,000 in Wall street, knows the
Mr. Keene got back into the market
ups and downs it again and when success came to hint
the market. In 1884 he paid all the debts that were out­
he suspended pay- standing when he suspended in 1884.
no nt after losing a He turned bull as stocks made unprec­
fortune of »7.003.000 edented advances with the Incoming
in six months. Only of this century and was credited with
six years before lie getting out at a profit. Ills bear cam I UTAH CAPTAIN OF INDUSTRY.
hail arrived In New palgns were the losing ventures of hl A. H. Lawis, W ho Is Interested In a
York from San recent years. He w as assallfd bitterly
S3O,(HM),OO<> Enterprise.
Francisco, where he by the Brooklyn Rapid Transit man
tine of the prominent men in the In­
had met with great agement In 1899 and was charged with dustrial world, about whom little la
success in his apt c- being the source of the rumors affect­ said In the East, Is State Senator A. B
ulations.
In Cali­ ing that stock.
Ijewla, of Utah,
fornia Keene bail risen from nothing
who la associated
I'nilercrounil Station in Paris.
to an estate of »1,000.000. had lost that
with United States
An
extraordinary
piece
of
engineer
­
In a flash, am! then by a succession of
Senator
Clark, of
lx.hl ventures had brought himself to ing is liegun by the municipality of
Montana. In a »30,-
Paris,
which
will
keep
the
Place
de
an emin'tice which carried a rating of
000.000
organiza­
»5,000,000 when be moved to New l'opera closed for nearly a year, and
tion for the devel­
when
It
Is
reopened
it
will
have
be-
York His first combination was with
opment of the great
coal and Iron fields
In the southern
part of Utah. Mr.
*’• ‘s H
Ix-wls has been at
• » » « •
the bead of other
. X. LEW IS.
large enterprises In the West, particu­
larly In the mining development of Ills
State; and In some of these bls success
has been made the more striking be­
cause of tremendous prejudice and op
position, which he was forced to over
come. Mr. I-ewls' election to the State
Senate was a tribute from the men
■ i»
««i’
whom he employed In copper mines
which he controlled In the southern
part of Utah. Without the knowledge
of their employer the miners organized
the convention In hla senatorial dis
trict and secured his election by an
overwhelming majority Mr. I-ewls
has t»een prominently mentioned as the
next new representative from Utah in
the Senate of the United States.
used most—a love call, generally, with
which the male snnke summons bls
mate.”
Military Marriage«.
A privilege enjoyed by girls who
marry officers of the Brigade of
Guarda Is tbat of belqg married In
the chapel In the enclosure at Wei
llngton Barracks. The outside la un­
lovely and unpretentious, but Inside
all la beautiful The decorations, mu­
ral anil otherwise, the stained glass,
and the furniture of this little gem
of military chapels all serve to ine-
■norallze »lead and gone Guardsmen,
the majority of whom have signally
served their country. There la no or­
gan, the Instrumental part of tho nrr
Ice being entrusted to one of the mill
tary bands, usually tbat of the regi
merit In which the bridegroom lielongs
The voluntaries and the march at the
close of the service are similarly ren
dered.
Cold April Every loo Years.
French meteorologists have worked
out the theory that exceptionally frig­
id Aprils o»cur at Intervals of exactly
100 years. In April. 1808, the glitters
were frozen and snow fell In Paris.
In April. 1708, the price of wood ro«e
and people died of »old In the atreota,
while a cbronicb-r of the p«-rio<l writes:
“There 1« snow at Versailles and we
are perishing of col»l at Parle at a
season when the atm ought to be
warming ua. The north winds affllct
us, bringing us cold from the mou ii-
|>oe« the Rattler Talk?
tains." Documentary evidence is not
"What Is a rattbmnake's rattle for?" needed to prove tbat A prit. 1903, wa.
said John Lover, the zoo keeper. In re­ also diatinguiahed by low tempéra­
sponse to a question by a Philadelphia tures.
Record man.
No I'leaalng Him.
“It is a call.” be resumed, answering
Mother - Tommy, what's the matter
hla own question. “The rattlesnake
with It calls hla mate. A man was with your little brother?
Tommy—He’s crying liecause Pm
telling me the other day that he
studied the rattle question last year In eating my cake and won't giva him
the West. He said It 1« mainly an n any
Mother -Is bis own cake finished?
call tbat the rattle is used, tltough dlf-
Tommy—Yes'm . and he cried while
de with ft.
forent sounds c«t
as «-atin' tl
dadeijtbla
differ
« nd these son»»»!* a
IrdrT
make Th** reptile
I
illy, an <1 whil* be fourt.t
id and loB*. Three otb*T
and
1 with jrr*at
s aid. A d!*fldfal iMttle
kna. though tb**x
were a 11 killM.
» is aler» «aid to charm «<
-da «o 1tbat th* «nakF «an
i«lly. teut In thia wtory rny
t take much «fork. It «
> saya. tbat tba rattle la
n
Person
Ninette was glaring from her dark
eyes, ami Julia Involuntarily shudibr-
e»l as ah»' lift.-«! her rich silken gown
and swvt>t down the stairs.
"O. If I knew bow to speak French
I would let the little French demon
know »be must not stare a' it me so lu-
aolently. Poor Ninette! f I hope her
love for Cecil will net Interfere with
hla work, but 1 am the last person
In the world who ought to blame her
for loving him."
Careless amt free ns are only the
pleasure-loving American «rusts who
alternate the study of art with that of
"La Vie" tn the Eden of both, Cecil
Thorne and hla companl >ns made th*
cafes In the Latin quarter of Paris ring
with their merriment until a late hour,
when Cecil returned to Ills lodging. In-
toxicatid with the thought of the mor
row. He spent a half hour or so In h!a
studio, and after making a few final
arrangements started for his attic b»sl
room. As he passe»! the door of Ni­
nette's aprtments he wondered If she
slept. Then, at a sudden recollection
of his hopes and all they meant to him,
he broke Into a merry whistle ami
mounted light-heartedly to hla own
door. Ills burst of merriment was the
last straw.
"To-morrow," she thought. “I will
not forget that 1 have helpeil you to
put warmth and soul Into her eyes!
You think you shall find fame to mor­
row. and that th«» fair-haired, cold-
hearted girl will help you to rejoice:
but you do not know Ninette!"
Springing from her couch. she felt
for matches, but could find none. “No
matter," she said. "I know the easel
well. Have I not watched him beml-
Ing over ft as though he loved the
canvas Itself? Dleu! you should have
exhibited Ninette.” Noiselessly, vin­
dictively. she grope«! her way along
the dark passage Into the studio. Not
even a moonbeam to assist her feet
over the cold stone floor. "Ha—the
easel!"—she gave a little cry of pain
as her tender foot came In contact
with the sharp edge. Then, seizing 1
wet brush, with delicious Joy she drew
It again ami again across the picture,
smearing imyoiid recognition every
corner of the canvas. “There!" she
said as she threw down the brush and
started to leave the studio. "There!
Mlle. Yellow llalr—I hate golden hair
—at least, I should hate It If Uecll had
not golden hair."
The thought of Cecil's fair hair.
which she had so often covered with
ardent klsst-s. recalled her to a mo­
ment of sudden reproach. What had
she done? She, who pretended to love
('«><■11, had destroyed the result of 11
whole half-year's toll and his hope of
fortune, and perhaps—y«w. that selfish
"perhaps" swept over her with over­
whelming force, anil the little criminal
crept back to her chamber, threw her­
self upon her couch, and there remain­
ed till her restless slumber was dis-
turb«'«l by the sound of Cecll'a foot
TIIK GREAT ONE, “Tilt ItAWN.
step entering the studio.
Hhe awoke with a start. He was
doubts vanlsheil somewhat as the ten­
der avowals of love fell from the lips 1 walking towards the easel. Hhe »Inred
of her lover. She could not believe ' not go to him; she would wait till the
him quit«» false, and yet—why did he first outburst of his passion had pass-
not exhibit her portrait In the salon. «1. For a long time there was abso-
Could not "Dawn" have black hair a* lute sllence In the studio. At last, un­
well as golden, and surely the fair lady able to liear the suspense, she timidly
was not otherwise more beautiful than opened the studio door and looked In.
All trace of the defiant Insolence which
she.
Cecil Interrupts«! the unpleasant rev­ made her »0 bewitching had vanished,
erie with, “Ninette, do you know 1 and she paused submissively, awaltiu;
believe r.iy love for you has made me the volley of reproof which she so
a better painter! M. de Thai« was richly deserved. Instead of this. Cecil
here thia morning and said the warmth smll«»d at behiddlng her and advancid
ami soul of 'The Dawn’ were extra­ to meet her. and she felt half afraid.
"Ah. there you are, m« chere. Come
ordinary."
The announcement that love for her ami see what some villainous hand bus
l»a»l al»le«l him In putting warmth and done.”
soul Into the eyes of another woman
"No. no," answered Ninette, still
was not comforting to Ninette. Hn»i questioning his sanity. "1 cannot Io» k
she broke from bls embrace Impatient­ upon It. O, Cecil you have driven me
ly. Catching up her broad brimmed mad with Jealousy!"
hat. «be dash«»«! out of the studio and
"Jealousy, ma chere? What on «-arth
shut herself In h«-r own little chamheT, are you talking at>out? Do you not
believe that I love you fondly—devot­
which »«» on the ground floor.
"The little vixen!" laughed Cecil. edly----- ”
"Stop! Yon call her 'dear.' Cecil,
"1 suppi*»««» old Gretha gave her a bad
breakfast this morning Hhe did not answer me this—do you love the fair
seem prop» rly pleased with the possi­ Julia who sits for 'The Dawn?'”
"!x>ve her—of course I do—but not
bility of your being soon-----
Ab,
Julia! 1 am glad you have come. The as I love you."
' There, you confess! I will not share
picture Is nearly finished—ami such
good news! De Thale« was here this your love with l>«»r. I was sorry I d d
morning ami was delighted. Why do It. but now I am glad—glad! Y >u
you look at the door -are you afraid would be famous with her portrait
and she would be glad with you. Is
of ghosts following you In?* ’
"No, Cto-ll. but do you know I have It not so? Yon dare not deny It!"
"Why. Ninette, how strangely yon
a strange feeling of f«»ar sometimes
when 1 s«»e Ninette! Hhe peered at me , talk! Would she not be an unnaturi I
to day as I came up the stairs, and her woman not to be glad of her brother's
black eye* look«»d like those of a ti­ success?"
"Brother!" almost shrieked Ninette.
gress. Cecil, tbat girl la dangerous! I
hope she Isn't fond of you; you know "Brtrther? Rhe la your sister. Cecil?"
“My dear child, do you mean to tell
that Is »-aslly possible with these
me yon have not known that?"
French ceralures of Impulse.”
"Why have you never told me that
“O, that Is Just like you women." re­
plied lightly that excellent Jndge of before ?”
feminine emotion; "always suspicious
“Why, Ninette, 1 never dreamed that
of another woman's love. Well, I can you did not know It. Every one cl«,.
tell you one thing, Julia; Ninette's love knows It. and you have never spoken
Is I»’** dangerm* than her hate, al- ; of this before."
though 1 should not like to trifle with I "No, I could not bear to speak < f
either. But I, who so thoroughly un- . , her, and I heard nothing of your talk
der*land Ninette, shall take care that ' —I do not understand your Engl n't
no dangrr attends her love for me.”
talk. And now O. t’ccll! Cecil! tuo
Ninette had crept from her chamber picture— the villainous hand----- "
and was listening at the keyhole of
"O, yes! to be sure; 1 nearly forgot
the studio with hot breath and angry i j the picture with your wild talk. 1 say.
eye*. Ilow tender hla voice! Almost j Ninette, what a good thing 'Tlie
the only English word that Nlnrit« Dawn* had been remov«*d from the
knew was "dear,” and she heard him ] easel!”
apply It to Julia the fair haired. Hhe
Ninette burst Into a loud laugh.
felt she could btirat with Jealous pas { 'Removed? Hay It again. Cecil! It
al< n. but at this moment site heard was removed, and It was not h»»r pic-
familiar voice« on the step« and sev­ ture tbat I---- - O, what would yon
eral comrades stuo»l t»«*fore her.
' have done?"
"Good morning. Nina!” exclaimed
Then the painter realizes! for th.»
the foremost on tiehohllng the m<xl>»l. first time what she hail Intended to
whom all kn»-w to l»e a favorite with do.
<'e» ll, ami. locking his arm familiarly
"You little vixen!" he sal ! ser om
In hers, they entered the studio, fol- I "did you do It. and did you mean o
ktwesl by
II 'The Dawn? Ah. Ninette. j it
"IM!<
r«»n!ly too bad!”
IN ETTES eyes bespoke an ap­
proaching storm. "A fair wom­
an again!” she muttered half
audibly as sht- gathered up the cards
impatiently to throw for the last time
which should decide if she were right
to doubt Cwll'l loyalty. F«-ariiig to
I earn the worst, yut determined to
know tin» truth at any «»at. Ninette,
the dark-eyed artist's model, spread
out ttie fortune-telling cards on the
pedestal before her. While she a« ailed
tlie coming of Cecil Th rue. master of
th«» studio am! of her heart.
"Ah! Thia Is tastter"—with a smile
of satisfaction—"why. here Is goo I
luck again! Perhaps, after all. Cecil
Is true, If I could ouly understand
their language! But he never speaks
to her In French. Courage, Ninette!
th«» last cards tell your story, la it a
fair lady or a »lark girl who Is loved
by Cecil? DIeu!"
The "fair lady’s can!" had turned
again, and Nlne te burst ln»o a fresh
delug«» of tears Just as the false Cecil
swung open the studio door and. with­
out observing the crouching figure of
Ninette, began to whistle a merry air.
"How can you whistle when I am »>
miserable':" saiil Ninette betw«»en her
soba.
“Why. bless my soul, Ninette. 1 nev
er saw you!"
"You have no eyes for me. You
would have s«»en another If she lia<l
been here."
"Another would not have kept so
silent, perhaps and tears, too! Now
this Is tiresome, when 1 have had such
a turn of good link. Listen, Ninette,
and dry your eyes. My picture----- "
"Of me?' '
"No. no—the» great one, 'The Dawn.'
will be exhibited. Then If luck comes
our way. as Is sure to happen, we can
be—you know what!"
Cecil drew Ninette to him In affec-
tlonate embrace, too elatevl with hla
jwn hope of prosperity to question
further th«» cause of tears Ninette's
>gma
Ru» h
“I hm - s you b'lieve de »levll rid»-» it
white boss?”
“Durino. But I known día nm<
Whatever hows he rl»lea will alio' git
dar."-—Atlanta Constitution.
W hen anyone »-omplalna ■ great deal
u< boys, H la a bad sign.