The Bend bulletin. (Bend, Or.) 1903-1931, August 17, 1906, Image 6

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    MM
I
J.
I for The Term of His Natural Life j,
i By MARCUS CLARICE j
OHAITKR XXX. (Continued.)
Hufus Dawes, overpowered by the rev
elation no suddenly made to htm, had
remained for a few momenta motlonleai
In hit cell, expecting to hear the heavy
clang of the outer iloor, which should
announce to him tho departure of the
chaplain. Hut h did not hear It, and
It seemed to htm that the air In the
cell had crown suddenly cooler. He
went to the door and looked Into th
narrow corridor, expecting to see the
scowling countenance of Glmblett. To
tils astonishment the door of the prison
waa wide open, and not a soul In alght.
He looked around. The night waa fall
Ing sullenly: the wind was mounting;
from beyond the bar came the hoarse
murmur of an angry tea. If the schoon
er was to sail that night, aha had beat
get out Into deep waters. Where waa
the chaplain? Tray heaven the delay
had been sufficient, and they had sailed
without him. Vet they would be sure
Co meet. He advanced a few steps
nearer, and looked about him. Was tt
possible that. In his madness, the chap
lain had been about to commit some
violence which had drawn the trusty
Olmblctt from his post? The trusty
Qlmblett waa lying at his feet dead
drunk!
I "HJ! Hohol Hlllo, there!" roared
somebody from the Jetty below, "lie
that you, Muster Noarth? We ain't
too much tiam, sur!"
From the uncurtained windows of the
chaplain's house on the bill beamed the
newly lighted candle. They in the boat
did not see it, but It brought to the
prisoner a wild hope that made his heart
- bound. He ran back to his cell, clapped
on North's wide-awake, and, Singing the
cloak hastily about him, camo quickly
down the steps. If the moon should
hlnet out now!
"Jump In. sir," aald unsuspecting
Mannlr, thinking only of the flogging
he had been threatened with. "It'll be
a dirty night, this night! Tut this over
your knees, sir. Shove her off! Give
way I" And they were afloat. But one
glimpse of moonlight fetl upon the
slouched hst and cloaked figure, and the
boat's crew, engaged in the dangerous
taak of navigating the reef in the teeth
of the rising gale, paid no attention to
the chaplain.
"Lads, we're but Just in time!" cried
Mannlx: and they laid alongside the
schooner, black in blackness. "Up ye
go, yer honcr, quick!" And the anchor
-waa a-trlp as Hufus Dawes rsn up the
aide.
The commandant, already pulling off
in his own boat, roared a farewell.
"Good-by, North. It was touch and go
with ye," adding, "Curse the fellow; he's
too proud to answer!"
The chaplain. Indeed, spoke to no
one, and, plunging down the hatchway,
made for the stem cabins. "Close ahave,
your reverence! aald a respectful some
body, opening a door. It was, but the
clergyman did not aay so. He double
locked the door, and, hardly realising
tbt danger he had escaped, flnng himself
on the bunk, panting. Over his head be
fieard the rapid tramp of feet. , He could
smell the sea, and through the open
window of the cabin could distinguish
the light in the chaplain's house on the
hill. The trampling ceased, the vessel
began to move swiftly, the command
ant'a boat appeared below him for an
Instant, making her way back; the Lady
Franklin had set sail.
"That's a gun from the shore," said
Partridge, the mate, "and they're burn
ing red light. There's a prisoner es
caped. Shall we He toV"
"Lie to!" cried old Hlunt. "We'll have
suthln else to do. Look there!"
The aky to the northward was streak
ed with a belt of livid green color, above
which rose a mighty black cloud, whose
hape was ever changing.
CHAPTER XXXI.
Hlunt, recognizing the meteoric her
alds of danger, began to regret bis ob
stinacy. He saw that a hurricane was
approaching.
Along the south coast of the Austra
lian continent, though the usual west
erly winds and gales of the highest lati
tudes prevail during the greater portion
of the year, hurricanes are not Infre
quent. Gales commence at N. W. with
n low barometer, Increasing at W. and
B. W., and gradually veering to the
south. True cyclones occur at New
Zealand. It was one of these rotatory
f. s titorms, an escaped tempest of the trop
ics, which threatened the Lady Franklin.
Ilufus Dawes, exhausted with the ex
citement through which be bad passed,
bad slept for two or three hours, when
lie waa aweketed by the motion of the
Yessel going on the other tack. He rose
.- -to his feet and. found himself in com
plete darkness. VOverbead was the noise
of trampling fee. and he could distin
guish the hoarse tones of Hlunt bellow
ing orders. Astonished at the absence
of the moonlight jvblch had ao lately
ellvered the sea, he flung open the cabin
window and looked tout. The cabin al
lotted to North waa ne of the two stern
cabins, and from Iff the convict had
a full view of the approaching storm.
The sight way one f wild grandeur.
The huge black cloud, which bung In
the borlxon bad changed ita shape. In
stead of ft curtain, It was an arch. Be
neath this vast and msgnlflcsnt portal
shone a dull phosphoric light. Across
this Uvld space pale dishes of sheet
lightning passed noiselessly. Behind it
was ft dull and threatening murmur,
Mds up of (he grumbllnj thunder, the
iallla of rsiu, and the roar of contend
in via and -waH. Tat (lints of the
prison-Island had disappeared, so rapid
had been the progress of the schooner
under the steady breose, and the ocean
stretched around, black and desolate.
(Using upon this gloomy expanse, Ilu
fus Dawes observed a strange phenom
enon lightning appearing to burst up
ward from the sullen bosom of the sea.
At Intervals, the darkly rolling wavea
flashed tire, and streaks of flame shot
upward. The tonti of a woman's voice
recalled him to himself. Cauttously un
locking the cabin door, he peered out.
The cuddy wna lighted by a swinging
lamp which revealed Sylvia questioning
one of the women concerning the storm.
Locking the door, he proceeded hastily
to dress himself In North's clothe. He
would wait until hts aid was absolutely
required, and then rush out. In the dark
ness Sylvia would mistake him for the
priest. He could convey her to the boat
If recourse to tho boats should be ren
dered necessary and then take the hai
ard of his fortune. While she waa lu
danger his place waa near her.
From the deck of the vessel the scene
wss appalling. The clouds bsd closed
In. The arch of light had disappeared
and all was a dull, windy blackness. Gi
gantic seas seemed to mount In the hori
son and sweep towsrd snd upon them.
It wss as though the ship lay In the
vortex of a whirlpool, ao high on either
side of her were piled the rough pyra
mldlcal masses of sea. The vessel lay
almost on her beam ends, with her helm
up, stripped even of tho sstla which had
been furled upon the yards. Mortal
hands could do nothing for her. By 0
o'clock In the morning the gsle had
reached Its height.
The sea, pouring down through the
burst hstchwsy, tore the door of the
cuddy from its hinges. Sylvia found her
self surrounded by a wildly aurglng tor
rent which threatened to overwhelm her.
She shrieked aloud for aid, but her voice
was Inaudible even to herself. Clinging
to the mast which peuetrated the little
cuddy, she whispered a last prayer for
succor. The door opened, and from out
the cabin came a figure clad In black.
She looked up, and the light of the ex
piring lamp showed her a face that waa
not that of the man she hsd expected to
see. Then a pair of dark eyes beaming
Ineffable lore and pity were bent upon
ber, and a pair of dripping arms held
her above the brine as she hsd once been
held In the misty mysterious dsys that
were gone.
In the terror of that moment, the
cloud which had so long oppressed her
brain passed from It. The action of the
atrsnge man before her completed and
explained the action of the convict chain
ed to the Fort Arthur coal wagons, of
the convict kneeling In the Norfolk Isl
and torture chsmber. She remembered
the terrible experience of Macquarl
Harbor. She recalled the evening of the
boat building, when, swung Into air by
stalwart arms, she bsd promised the res
cuing prisoner to plead for him with her
kindred. Regaining ber memory thus,
all the agony and shame of the man's
long life of misery became at once ap
parent to her. She understood how her
husband had deceived her, and with,
what base injustice aixl falsehood he
had bought her young love. No ques
tion aa to bow this doubly condemned
prisoner hsd escsped from the hideous,
isle of punishment she bsd quit occur
red to ber. She asked not oven In her
thoughts how It bad been given to blm
to supplant the chaplain In bis place on
board the vessel. She only considered,
In her sudden awakening, the story of
his wrongs, remembered only his marvel
ous fortitude and love, knew only, In
this spparently last Instant of her pure,
ill-fated life, that aa he bad aaved her
once from stsrvation and death, so had
he come again to save ber from despair.
The eyes of the man and woman met
In one long, wild gaxe. Sylvia stretched
out ber white hand and smiled, and
Richard Devlne understood, In his turn,
the story of the young girl's Joyless life,
and knew how she had been sacrificed.
In the great crisis of our life, when,
brought face to fact) with annihilation,
we are suspended gasping over the great
emptiness of death, we become conscious
that the self which we think we knew so
well has strange and unthought-of ca
pacities. To describe a tempest of the
elements is not easy, but to describe a
tempest of the soul Is Impossible. Amidst
the fury of such a tempest, a thousand
memories, each bearing In Its breaat the
corpse of some dead deed whose Influ
ence haunts us yet, are driven like feath
ers before the blast, as unsubstantial
and" as unregarded. The mists which
shroud our sslf-knowledge become trans
parent, and we are amltten with audden,
lightning-like comprehensions of our own
misused power over our fste.
This much we feel and know, but who
can coldly describe the hurricane which
thus overwhelms hlm7 As well ask the
drowned mariner to tell of the marvels
of mid-sea when the great deeps swal
lowed blm and tbe darkness of death en
compassed him round about These two
human beings felt that they had done
with life. Together thus, alone In tbe
very midst and presence of death, the
distinctions of the world dlssppeared.
Their vision grew clesr. They felt as
beings whose bodies had already per
ished, and as they clasped hands, their
freed souls, recognising each the loveli
ness of tbe other, rushed tremblingly
together.
e
In a stately home in "dear old Eng
land" a bronxed, serious-faced man
knows the peace and contentment that
auu onlr with the calm after the storm
the rnro Joy of love requited, the sol
emn satisfaction of Innocence vindicated,
the "glory of sunlit lawns" nud "green
pastures nud still witters."
They who had robbed Hufus Dawes,
convict, of the best years of his life
could not restore their gotdou promise
or atone for tho shipwreck of youth nud
early manhood.
Hut they could tear tho false veil from
the past. The storm that swept the
Lady Franklin to the cruel rocks drifted
to a friendly shore the man nud woman
who, clnsped In each other's arms, saw
lovo Ineffable In each other's eyes for
the flrst time.
Hufus Dawes escaped to England, Syl
via Frere followed on the next steamer,
for, at the first, port, she had learned of
tho death of Maurice Frere, brained by
the manacle of a convict he had goad
ed to desperation the very night of the
escape of the man he had so cruelly
wronged.
Then the world knew the story of the
man who had twice saved her life-
knew as well of his Innocence, and Mr.
North, reformed, repentant, from a quiet
parish In Australia, supplied the tlnal
evidence that cleared his name of every
black vestige of guilt.
Aa Sir Richard Devlne, as a ship
wrecked mariner safe with home, love
and mother, the old Hufus Dawes I
came a man among men, notable for
charity, probity and Justice famous as
the flrst to lift his hand to strike from
the fair, falsa fare of Tasmania the
hideous mask that had converted Into a
living hell an earthly paradise, the foul
pUgue-sot of the universe to which he
had been condemned "For the term of
his natural life."
(The end.)
8TRIKINQ FACT8 ADOUT SLEEP.
POPULATION MOVEMENT IN AMEMOA.
Odd of tht Most Mysterious of the
Vr of Xslurt.
"Shakeare," snlil a scientist, "will
ed sleep tho nH! of death. Tlmt Is n
striking nnnio for it striking thing.
Sleep Is a wonderland. I.ot us explore
It
"Self-hypnotism Is n uiystcrloiu
force that we can exercise on ourselves
In sleep alone Wo are nit self-hypno-tlsta.
We nil, on certain nights, tell
ourselves firmly tlmt wo must not
orersleep; tlmt tho next morning nt
4, at 5 or tl precisely wo must wake up.
Our sleeping selvcri respond to tho
hypnotic suggestion mado the night bo
fore by our wnklug selves. That Is
mysterious and striking. Isn't It? Still
more mysterious ami striking, though,
Is the fact of our keeping track of tho
tlmo somehow In our slumber. How
on oar til do we do that?
"It Is lmioxlblc to do without sleep.
Men have slept standing, even running.
They have .slept In battle, under Are,
with guns roaring on all sides. They
Lave alept lit unendurable and deadly
pa I tk
"There Is no torture equal to that
which the deprivation of sleep entails.
Tho Chinese are the crudest folks on
earth, and the most Ingenious of tor
turers. Well, tho Chinese place the
deprivation of sleep at the bead of
their torture list.
"Sleep Is a state, of rest Tho heart
rests In sleep. Tbe heart Is a rhythmic
muscle, not one that never reposes, but
one that works at short shifts, like a
puddler, a moment on, a moment off.
Well, when we sleep, the heart's shifts
of rest are redoubled. It works then,
ono on, two off, getting, Indeed, pretty
nearly as much reie as we do.
"The brain In sleep teoomea pale and
sinks below the level of tho skull.
When we are awnke the brain Is high
and ull and ruddy.
"Not only the brain and heart, but
even the tear glands rest In sleep. That
Is why when we awako we always nib
our eyes. Tim nibbing Is an Instinctive
action that stimulates tho stagnant tear
glands and causes them to moisten
projierly our eyes, all dried from their
Inaction."
Dual on I lie Orran.
"To talk of a Musty' ocean highway
Bounds absurd, but the expression U
(perfectly accurate," states n writer.
"Evoryono who In familiar with ship
knows that, no nmtter how carefully
tho decks may bo washed lu tho morn
ing, a groat quantity of dust will col
lect by nightfall. You say, 'Hut tho
modern steamship, bunting hundred
of tons of coal a day, easily account
for such a deposit'
"True, but tho records of salting
vessels show that tho latter collected
mora dust than a steamer. On a rd
cent voyage of a sailing vessul a Jour
noy which lasted ninety-seven days
twenty-four barrels of dust wero swept
from tho decks! The captain was a
mm nf scientific tastes find made care
ful observations, but could not solyo
tho mystery. Some, no iloubt, comes
from the wear and tear on tho sails
and rigging, hut that accounts for only
a small portion. To nii to mo mystery,
hits nt cork, wood and vegetable fiber
are frequently found In this sea dust
Where does It como rronw corea
Dally News.
Where Ifa Wm,
"Major Longbeau tells such exciting
stories of the civil war, doesn't ho?"
"Yes, he does tell norao good ones."
"Which side was he on during tho
warr
"Tho other side."
"Confederate?"
"No tbe other side of tbe Atlantic."
Cleveland Leader.
The center of population In the Fulled Stall's has been
moving steadily westward for more than a century with
remarkable regularity, tsith as regards distance nnd di
rection, saya the Chicago Record-Herald. Since the year
1700 tho exact location of this mythical Hut hns been
catucalu hd? Iglvs e t ntehrltsod etnol shrdluetnfwyppp
calculated olllclnlly at Washington for every ten years
of the nation's history. When there Hnts are plotted
uwn the map nud connected a remarknble line of prog
ress Is obtained, lu which may lie. rend nt a glance much
of this country's history. "Westward the course, of em
pire takes Its way," as ull the world knows, but It Is
probable that nowhere In history has any similar Hue
of progress, ns It may le called, pmcedcil westwanl so
directly according to compass nnd at so even a rnle of
progress.
In the year 171X1. when the center of imputation wns
flrst calculated, It was found to tw nt a Milnt twenty
three miles east of Baltimore. In milking this estimate
the entire imputation or the ('lilted States of that crlod
was, of course, considered. It was the xuilntlon center
of a strip extending from Maine to Florida. And since
the frontier population of that early day was Inconsid
erable the renter of (population was practically the same
as the geographical renter. Today the geographical cen
ter of the country la, of oonrsc, considerably west of the
Mississippi, lu more than a century these two theoreti
cal Huts have liooome widely separated. The center of
(population In the I'lilted Stntes Is nt present six miles
southeast of Columbus, Ind.
The regularity of this line Is the more remarkable
when It Is considered that the Fulled States has grown,
geographically, by lea(a and bounds. Tho doctopmcut
of the country has not ln-en n steady growth westward
as regards Its acquisition of territory. The lulslana
Purchase, for example, by adding millions of acres to
the Flitted Stales at one time would presumably hate
had the effect of drawing this line of progress sharply
to the southwest. The acquisition of Alaska again would
have had a similar Influence In nnother direction. And
yet the line shows tittle deflection nt the Important dates,
when them territories were added.
For a century again the distance covered by this Milnt
during each decade has varied very slightly. It has moved
westward at the rate of about forty miles every ten
years, a llltlo more or less, whether nt the beginning or
the end of the century. The shortest distance trnveleii
.ntj. .. i..... ..nlif l.lrJfs'.ai
was Mweeii years m arwi im. wne.i -
miles were traversed, The loin.-"- J'1' " ,",w,,'?,,
HCO and IrUH). wli-u clirhtyotie mile were coTcrcil. Mm
regularity of the movement of the center of population
while the population of the country has Increased at such
an enormous rate Is obviously very renin rkahle.
By reference to the accompanying mnp It will tm seen
that the digressions of this line either to the north or
south have been somewhat less Ihsu fifty miles III a full
century. Thee figures apply. howctrr. only until the
end of the last century. Since It) the tine has shown
n tendency to mow southward, while nt th same lim
its rate of progress tins been nhruptly checked. In other
words while the moieiiicnt of the line was at the rate
of about forty mill's eery ten jears. Its movement during
the decade from INK) to ltl was but fourteen miles, a
startling contrast with previous decade for a century.
This abrupt rliek to Its muveiiieiit ami Its southward
tendency Indicate, of course, a rapid Increase of the nip
ulatlou lu the South.
The flrst liiou-Mieiit recorded, that Mwceit 1700 and
IrKsl. was from Hut twenty-three miles east of llsltl
more to a Hut eighteen miles west of thst elly, a totai
movement of forty-om miles. Ten years later It was to
rated forty miles northwest by west of Washington, hav
ing moved thirty-six miles lu Hie decade. By tile year
IfCil It had reachel a dnt sixteen miles mirth of Vo.xl
stock, Va., having traveled st an even fifty mile. In
the following decade It left the Slate of West Virginia,
nineteen tulle west southwest of Muorlteld, a dlstanc"
of thirty-nine mil-. It next traveled to a (olnt sixteen
tulles Ninth of Clarksburg. In tbe same Slat, fifty fir
miles. The next decade carried It to a (stint twenty
llirtv mile iutltat of I'arkrrsburg. repestlug the sm
distance of the previous decsde, flfty-flre miles, lu 1SVI
It moved Into Ohio, to a point twenty miles south of
Chltllcotlie, having traveled eighty-oils miles, tho longest
movement In Its history.
Ten years later It had reached a (ilnt night miles
northeast of Cincinnati, fifty-eight miles. The southern
tendency then became obvious, for III tbe following ten
years, betw-eu 1H70 and 1KS0, It traveleil In a (stint
eight miles west by south of Cincinnati. It next movm
tq a Hut twenty miles east of Columbus, lint., and In
tlx last ten years, In llx. It bad reached It present
resting place. The total distance traveled In 110 year
hits been exactly 5ltt miles.
j jj FRIENDS, i ?
T7lM Is going Instead of Herman,"
(tjj announced Mrs. Day. "Hut I don't
know Jim," objected Itls,
"And that's the reason," answered
Mrs. Day, "that I want to tell you
about him. Tho fact Is, Jim was Jilted
lust Hprliig. She was one of the most
Ix'autlful girls I have ever soon" Mrs.
Day talked itipldly "but none of us
wnntM her. Shu was selllsh and
thoughtless and exacting, hut Jim never
saw It. He Just adored hor nud follow
ed her nlsiut, mid gloried In being her
slave, until we wero all lu despair."
Jim was tho brother of Mr. Day's
liiirttmnil, but It was her way to tako all
the resK)iilblllty, even of her liUHliaiid'H
fmilly. "Ho we were nil very much re
llovcd when she Jilted Jim."
Itls wns listening quietly, somewhat
at a loss to get tho tretul of I bono con
lldolH'Crl.
"We were all rather glad, as I said,
except" hero Mrs. Day paused, then
filmigeil ahead "except for tho dread
fill effect It has had upon Jim. Ho
was heart-broken ; he's young, yoi
know," This Is n(ology to Ils' smile.
"And alnco then ho has Itecn jwrfcctly
Tecklcss."
Mrs. Day stopped for breath. It waa
hard to aay what alio meant to say,
"Lois, my dear," sho llnally contin
ued, "don't lot Jim mako lovo to you nt
camp. Ho lias vowed to bo revenged
on tho wholo rnco of women, and that
Is the wny ho has taken to do It"
Tho llrst night at camp Lois had
causo to remember Mrs. Day's warning.
It was n party of lovers, nil young mar
ried coupler, or engaged, nil except Lois
and Jim, tlw youngest, Theso two
started up tho tako In a canoe, Just ai
tho otticrs did ; but when Jim suggested
that they drift, Lola folt a misgiving.
Jim must be made to undertsand, Sho
topped hts half-tender compliments
with a warning hand.
"Listen, Jim," one aald. alowly and
earnestly, "your sister Iim told me
about your trouble. I'm not going to
talk about that," she added hastily, ai
Jim frowned, "but I want to tell you
this j Somewhere there U a man that I
love as dearly as you love this girl.
Fur his sake ami for hers, let's you and
I lielp each other. I wnnt to lie tme"
diffidently, It was hard to say "and
so, I know, do you. i-t us here and
now promise to be Just good comrade.
Nothing more."
She looked nt the boy with a bright
smile and held out her hand. He hesl
tititl a minute, then gnuqicd her hnnd.
"If a go, Iils," he sold.
Ami so It Ixvamo tho custom for
these- two youngest to eutertnln or
hnrnss the others, as the iikxmI sclw-d
them. Oil the water they snug and
played on mnmlolliw and guitars; In
camp they Indulged In endless gniucs of
cards, or got off Jokes nt the cxicumo
of the others, They crimed the nick
mimo of the "two young fellars," and
nl' mundane matters were left In their
jurrr ooon comiAiira.
charge, such as tho planning of trips,
tho euro of tho lunch.
"Lot tho lovers love," was their motto;
"we'll havo a good time." And they
certainly did. They explored all tho
Inlets and outlets of tho hike, discov
ered tho big cave, brought homo tho last
Milter lllltti of tho season, nnd wandered
far afield, npletl out tracks unmistaka
bly thoso of n In-ar, Lois grow brown
nnd hardy with tho long tramps which
1.I10 nlono of tho women found tlmo to
tako, Tho hlggmt berries and tho fat
test fish woro hers, nud sho it was who
caught tho (irlxo trout, thanks- to tho pa
tience and energy with which sho an
gled. It was the last night, Mrs. Day look
ed About tho tahlo and sighed. "This
Is the first year wo haven't had mi en
gagement to announce," sho said; "wo
ore all getting old, I am afraid." And
It waa proof of the success of Lois'
plan that not ono of tbsoi thought to
Joke about tho "young fellar." There
wss no question itf sentimentality wl'li
thrm.
Nils and Jim went forbidden to glvs
n concert to sj.ill tho Isst evening,
they paddled swiftly along tint south
sluire. At length Jim broke the unusual
alleiuv. "This lias been the ttcst sum
mer of iny life." ho said, "and It has
nil Ihvii due to you, Nil."
Tho girl looked up. startle I at thl
sudden transition fnmi Uiiilstmto to
something wry like sentiment.
"I'm not going to break our promise."
Jim said lu answer to tint look. "I
'taut you to be as tnio as ever to that
man. Hut I'm going to tell you this.
Hint other girl was a dream."
They both Inuglic.l.
"I mean she whsii'i roul, like you. I
understand now that she never eould
h.ivo Ihvii a wlfo ttt mo. Why, wo
weren't friends."
Uil was slliHit.
"IpoIs (Jim's Voice faltered, so'ln
tenso wero Ills feelings), would It be
unfair to the other man or to you If I
till you that you are truly tho only
woman I lovo; tho only ono could
possibly marry? A man ought to spend
Ii'h llfo with a girl who I his friend,"
he added wistfully. "I never knew that
In-fore."
"Somewhere," remarked Lois, Incon
sequent y. "Is a very Indelliilto tihice.
and you romemlior that's where I said
tne man was,"
Jim was quick-witted, and assocla
tlou with I,ol had sharpened hi xt
ivptlon, Ho asked eagerly, "Was he a
dream, list?"
"No," IpoIs Inughcd ; "he's no dream,
Jim; bo's well, bo's lu love, nud," sho
drawled to keep up tho suspense as
long ns possible, "ho's In love, and so
a iii I. Wo'ro both lu tho same lioat, you
see." Milwaukee Wisconsin.
('oiisiiUtluii,
A minister, who has slnco attained
prominence lu Now York, says n writer
In tho Sun, was Hi hi curlier yoarr.
called from n village church. One of
tho ststors expressed grief nt Ills going.
"I'hey will get a better preacher to
tako my place," ho consolod her.
"No, that's Just the trouble," she aald.
"Kvcry preacher, lately, In worse than
the last."
When a man says, "I iiuiu't oat any
breakfast," ever remark hi mournful
way of saylog It?
V .
- "NsMlJssMslimSaT"
wm