MASTER OF
By Robert
filmm
CIIArTEU-XIlI.
It seemed as if the day of my boy
hood bad come back to mr. Never since
then had I experienced such filing as
row filled my heart, fr with Madeline's
fadinc they had fsJed, and during the
years of our separation 1 had paesed
my time with tolerable tranquillity; but
now that she had been miraculously
restored to me, the old fir waa rekin
dled in my soul, and I became another
man. Her very presence, in the houso
that night drove away all thoughts of
lee p.
All that day, overcome by the fatigue
through which she had passed, Madeline
remained in her chamber; while 1, utter
ly unable to work, hung like a restless
spirit about the house. The next morn
ing she awoke refreshed; and when we
three cat at breakfast, she astonished us
all by appearing amongst ua, fully dress
ed, and looking bright and well.
A all her own clothes had been lost
In the wreck, she wore a dress of my
aunt; over it she had thrown the cloak
w hich she had worn on the wreck. She
came forward languidly, leaning on the
shoulder of her black attendant, and sank
down into the chair which my uncle had
placed for her, while the native began
crying and kiting her hands. They spoke
together In the foreign tongue; then Mad
eline raised her eyea and looked quietly
around. Her glance swept the room and
finally rested with a look of recognition
on my face. I felt the hot blood mount
to my temples.
"Am I mistaken!" she asked, softly;
"did you take me from the wreck.?"
I bowed my head.. In a moment all
her languor disappeared, the old fire
darted from her eyes, the lod flush suf
fused her cheeks she was the Madeline
of my childhood once more. She looked
at her hands, with one quick movement
pulled off the most valuable of her rings,
and held it toward me.
-Will you not take itr she said, with
bright smile. "You saved my life."
Her whole manner was that of a lady
speaking to an inferior. Under my ex
citement I hardly noticed it Scarcely
knowing what I did, I sprang forward
and 'took the ring; then, eagerly kissing
her hand, I placed it again upon her fin
ger. "Madeline," I said, "don't yon know
met Madeline Misa Graham!"
She looked at me more critically and
shook her head.
"Have you forgotten Munster's?" I
aaid, "and Hugh Trelawney?"
If I expected a wild outburst of pleas
ore at the mention of my own name, I
was quickly disappointed. She only
amiled; and, with her eyes fixed upon
vacancy as if she was reviewing the past,
said:
"Munster's?' Ilugh Trelawney? Oh,
yes; of course I remember now! nugh
Trelawney was the nicest of those Mun
eter boys, and we were friends; but,"
she added, fixing her eyes anxiously up
on me, ''surely you are not that boy?"
"Yes," I replied, "I am Hugh Tre
lawney r
Her eyes opened wider, she glanced
from me to my uncle and aunt, then
round the kitchen, then she was silent.
I felt that some explanation was due
to her, and I gave it I told her of my
father's death of the kindness of my an
cle and aunt and of my subsequent life
at St Gurlott's.
"St Gurlott's r she said. "Is this St
Gurlott's, in Cornwall? I have an aunt
living in a place of that name. Perhaps
700 may know her; her name is Mrs.
Redruth."
"Wha, that be our master's mother!"
broke in my aunt But I added:
"Are you sure it's the same, Miss Gra
ham? This Mrs. Redruth has a son who
owns the mine."
"Yes, I know my cousin George!" she
answered; while my heart misgave me
at the familiar manner in which she men
tioned the name. "Oh, it must be the
aarae," she continued, enthusiastically;
"and to think I should be shipwrecked
here, of all places in the world! Mr. Tre
lawney, are they far away? Would it
be possible to let them know that I am
here? Perhaps if you tell her the story
and show her this," she continued, draw
ing a quaint signet ring from her finger,
' "my aunt will come to me. This was my
dear father's ring, and she knew it well,
for he always wore it and he had it on
even when he died!"
I started off on my mission. The
events of the last few hours had made
me a changed being. I began to wonder
If It was all real. It was clear to me
now that she thought little of the past.
While I had been living upon the memory
of those dear days, she had let other
events obliterate it entirely from her
mind. Well, it was clear I must do the
same. I must deliver her up to the cus
tody of her relations ns coldly as if she
were a stranger who had casually been
cast in my path for a day.
Having made my decision, I became
calmer, and walked with a steady step
op to Redruth House. I inquired for
the young master; learned that he had
left for London two days before. I ask
ed for the mistress, and she saw me. She
listened to my story , quietly enough;
when I showed her the ring, her white
face flushed, her hand trembled, and her
eyes filled with tears.
, "It is my brother's, my poor broth
er's," she said, more to herself than to
' me; then she'added: "My niece is at your
cottage, you say?"
"Yes, madarae."
"Tell her I will come to her at once."
I left the house and, instead of return
ing to the cottage, walked straight down
to the mine. Where was the use of my
returning to Madeline; to stand by and
see that grim and stonyhearted woman
bring to her queenly eyes the light of
happiness,-to her lips the cry of jay,
which the eight of my face had failed to
do?
All day I worked with a fierce persist
ence which alarmed me. I looked at my
self in my mining suit, then recalled
Madeline as I had seen her that morn
ing with her soft hands sparkling with
gems, and the black servant crouching at
her feet and realized more than ever the
distance that divided us from one an
other. I returned home in the evening
and found the cottage much the same as
It had always been. Madeline was gone.
"She be up at Redruth House, Hugh,"
said my aunt The awld missus cams
THE MINE I
Buchanan.
and took her away, and right glad she
waa to go, poor lass!"
She showed me a five-pound rote which
Madeline had given her, borrowing it
from her aunt to do so. She put the
note Into an old work box where most
of her treasures were kept, and set about
getting the tea. Imagining that the ro
mance of last night's wreck had ended.
ClIArTEK XIV.
For some days after that I saw noth
ing whatever of Madeline. One day,
the seventh frotu that on which the life
boat had brought her to shore, I made
a minute inspection of the minr; which
every 'day grew more dangerous, and
came up from my work covered with filth
from head to foot I had passed the last
ladder, and stood at the mouth of the
mine, daxaled by the quick transforma
tion from pitch darkness to broad day
light, when my ears were struck by ths
sound of a voice which passed like sud
den music through my frame. 1 rubbed
niy eyes and looked about me, and there,
not far from where 1 stood, was my old
sweetheart She was dressed now in an
elegant costume of gray, which fitted
her to perfection: a little hat with long
plumes was on her head, and her face,
looking lovelier than ever, glowed and
sparkled in the light; with her rich
brown skin and sparkling black eyes,
her erect carriage, graceful tread, she
looked like some Eastern princess! She
was walking toward the spot where I
stood; George Redruth was beside her;
while behind followed the black girl,
Anita, her dark eyea fixed upon her mis
tress. This sudden encounter unnerved
me. Quickly recovering myself, however,
I was about to move away, and so avoid
embarrassment when the master's voice
arrested me.
"Trelawney," he said; "one moment.
Miss Graham wishes to go down the
mine. I tell her It is Impossible. What
do you say? Is It fit for a lady?"
"Don't worry about it George," she
said, "I've abandoned the idea." Then,
stepping up to me, she held forth her
little gloved hand. I bowed over it but
did not take it giving as an excuse that
I was not fit to approach her.
"I daresay you were in quite as forlorn
a condition the other morning when you
snatched me from the wreck," she said;
"yet you did not hesitate then, when
your own life was In peril Mr. Trelaw
ney, take my hand."
I wid as she requested, I clasped the
little hand in both of mine and raised
it respectfully to my lips. In doing so,
I caught a glimpse of George Redruth's
face: it was black as the pit mouth.
"Now, my dear Madeline," he said,
impatiently, "shall we go back?"
But Madeline was not ready, or per
haps she was tod imperious to be so or
dered by her cousin. She had abandon
ed all intention of descending the mine;
but she was nevertheless anxious to in
spect the outside of it
"But you can go," she said. "Mr. Tre
lawney will escort me."
"Nonsense!" returned her cousin. "Tre
lawney has got his work to attend to.
I will stay."
And he did stay for fully two hours;
at the end of which time she allowed
him to take her away.
Three other days passed without a sign
from her; then I encountered her again.
It was in the evening, when I was walk
ing home. This time she was alone;
except for the servant, who walked at a
respectful distance behind her. She came
up to me. unreservedly, and again held
forth her hand.
"I came to walk back with you." she
said. "Do you mind?"
"I mindT I repeated in amazement.
"You forget, Miss Graham, it is an honor
for me to walk beside you."
She gave a little impatient toss of her
head, and we walked on together. For
some time not a word was spoken, but I
felt that she was watching me keenly.
Presently she said:
"Do you know what I have been doing,
Mr. Trelawney? I have been trying to
find in you one trace of the boy I knew,
years ago, at Munster's and I have
failed."
"I don't understand."
"No? Well, I will explain. The boy
I knew was kind to me; frank, open
hearted, generous. You are somewhat
unfriendly, reserved, harsh, and, if I
may say so, churlish. Why are you so
changed V
"I am not changed, Miss Graham; or,
if I am, it is but with the tide of for
tune, which has ebbed and not flowed
with me fince we met before. When we
were at Munster's I believed we were
equala, but now you are Miss Madeline
Graham; I am overseer of your cousin's
mine."
"Then you wish us to remain as stran
gers?" "I think it would be better."
"Ah! you are crueller than I thought;
If you will not accept my friendship for
the sake of the old days when we were
boy and girl together, you will, at least,
have some pity upon me. I am lonely
and among strangers here. You seem
like an old friend. If you will suffer me
to talk to you sometimes it will make
my stay here more pleasant"
Her pleading won the day, and we be
came friends. I never went to Redruth
House, and she never came to the cot
tage. I never sought her, but quite in
nocently and frankly she sought me. We
often went on the moor when, after my
long day's work, I was making my way
home, and I could not regard these meet
ings as purely accidental on her part
She was always accompanied by the
black girl, until one evening, when Ehe
appeared alone.
"You are looking for Anita!" said
Madeline, noting my glance. "She has
gone to London with my aunt's maid,
and will not return till close on midnight.
My cousin counselled my staying at home
to-night, or allowing him to accompany
me. I knew I should not want for com
pany, so refused to submit I may not
enjoy these walks much longer."
"What! are you going away?" I ask
ed, In some alarm.
She . shrugged her shoulders. "Per
haps! I do not know; certainly I rdiall
have to go sooner or later, but I trust
it may not be sooner. When I was ship
wrecked here I was on my way to Lon
don, to take up my abode with some oth
er relatione. They art troubling; ntt
with .question, so 1 have eent Anita to
atlfy them as to my safety. Yet I
suppose I hall some day have to go.
She tried to speak carelely, yet I
fancied I detected a ring of regret lu
her voice, and I quailed before the feel
Ing of desolation which her words
brought to my heart.
lu that 011 wtiteiic he had tin wit
tingly shown, to me myself revealed to
me the terrible secret which I had been
vainly trying to crush from my heart
F.ven as she had Influenced my boyhood.
she had influenced uiy manhood.
.1 loved her with the same unthinking
love which had tilled my soul as a boy
loved her even hfle I felt that Mich
a love might be the means of blighting
my life. I knew that no good could come
of It, for wat she not as far removed
from me as the moon was removed from
the sea? and yet I felt at that moment
that to love her so, he It only for one
hour, was worth whole centuries of pain
(To be eontlnued.l
WAGNER AS A HUMORIST.
How He Complied with the ngseettoa
of a lAtndon Newspaper.
Richard Wagner was not a man to
whom one would naturally ascribe the
faculty of ready joking. It Is not from
the creator of the serious, somber,
"Flying Dutchman" or the composer of
the half mystical, half religious opera
"Parsifal," that one would expect
cheerful pranks at the expense of oth
or people. Nevertheless, an Instance
is on record of how the groat tone-
painter of Bayreuth played a very
funny trick ou a newspaper ami prob
ably a good ninny of the readers ac
customed to relying on what It said,
it was In the Wl's. Wagner, then still
climbing the ladder of fame, waa
conducting the Philharmonic concerts
In the British metroplla for a season.
Being, as he remained to the end, a
very ardent admirer of Beethoven,
and, In fact, knowing that master's
nine symphonies by heart, he select
ed several of them for performance In
the said series of concerts. The flrst
time, then, that Wagner conducted a
Beethoven symphony In London, the
public received the rendition kindly
enough, but the next morning a cer
tain newspaper with a very large cir
culation came out with a rather severe
criticism. The author of "Lohengrin"
was In cold print, but In unreserved
terms, scolded for directing a sym
phony by the Immortal Beethoven
without a score In frout of him.
Such a proceeding, to which London
was unaccustomed, was sheer pre
sumption, so ran the criticism. And
after further uncomplimentary re
marks, the great and Influential Jour
nal advised young Herr Wagner to use
a score when he conducted a Beethov
en symphony again. Well, soon Herr
Wagner did, this time with a book
of music open before him on his desk.
He was seen to turn over the leaves
with a certain amount of regularity,
too. His reward came, next day, In
the form of a commendatory article
In the aforesaid newspaper, which
praised him for a very much better in
terpretation of Beethoven than his
last, due, of course, to the suggested
use of the score. Whereupon Wag
ner (we think our pun is Justified in
this particular Instance) announced
the fact that the score In front of
him the previous evening was that
of Rossini's opera, "The Barber of
Seville" turned upside down. Col.
ller-s Weekly.
Saved by Chance.
"Ills life was saved by a burton V
"How fortunate. Tell me about It"
"A girl asked for a button as a sou
venir. He gave it to her. Then he fell
In love with her and she fell In love
with him. They were married.
"But you said she saved his life?"
"Oh, yes.' His wife would not let him
go to war, and the man who took his
place was killed."
Rabies to Hura. ,
Teacher Job uny, what are you go
ing to name the twins at your house?
Johnny Anthracite and Bituminous,
I think.
Teacher Aren't they rather strange
names?
Johnny No, ma'am; I guess not. I
heard pop telling the man next door
that he now had babies to burn.
Philadelphia Telegraph.
lndl-cretion.
"Isn't the perfect trust and confi
dence engaged people have In each
other perfectly beautiful?"
"Perfectly Idiotic, I should say."
"Why?"
"Because when I was engaged I told
my future wife all about my Income
and prospects; and now I can't spend
a dollar on myself without her know
ing about it"
Baited His Surroundings.
Lady I wish to select a pet dog.
Dealer Live in town, I suppose,
mum? ,
"Yes, I live In a flat."
"Then I would advise on Italian
greyhound, mum. No matter how
much you feeds a greyhound he al
lers stays narrer."
An Art Critic.
Ethel What do you think of this
landscape, aunty?
Aunt Hannah Well, er I don't
think so much of the trees, but that
grapevine is pretty good.
Ethel Grapevine? Why, dear, that
is the artist's signature. Philadelphia
Record.
A Cave In Point. .
'It was Shakspeare who wrote:
What's In a name? "
"I know It, and it's funny, too. If
they could prove that Bacon wrote
Shakspeare's works most of us
wouldn't think half as much of them
as we do."
The exiled Marlus sitting among the
ruins of Carthage Is a spectacle that
his movd many a schoolboy to v
atory.
EONQ OF LIFE.
Maiden of the laughing eyes
Prlsiroee-klrtled, winged, free.
Virgin daughter of the lee
Joy! whom gods and portals prist,
Share thy smiles with met
Yet lest I, unheeding, borrow
Pleasure that to-day eulre
And beuumbs the heart to-morrow,
Turu not wholly from me. Sorrow I
Let me soar thy tears!
Give me of thy fullnees. Life!
PuUe and passion, power, breath,
Vision pure, heroic strife
Give me of thy fullness, Life!
Nor deny me death!
-Harper's Magaalne.
Lucky Rain Drops
-tttttttstttsseeeeeeaee
S the weather had been fin for
quit halt an hour people had
donned their light spring cloth
lug and had sallied forth Into the park,
foaling spruce and merry. They sailed
out again, however, with undignified
haate when a sudden downpour of rain
came frotu nowhere In particular for
no one had noticed any clouds trans
forming most of them Into mere mass
es of drenched misery In less than
three minutes.
Lily, her head bent forward against
the wind, aud with both hands holding
her wind-driven skirts, started to run
toward Grant monument Not many
yards had she gone when she collided
with Clayton, who was scurry lug to
ward the park' corner.
"I beg your pardon," sold he.
Uly stood still, her back to the wind
and her wavy golden hair blowing
prettily over her shoulders and fram
ing her flushed face.
"You!" she exclaimed.
Now he was standing still, too. They
stared confusedly at each other, neither
knowing what to say.
"I thought" he ventured at last,
"chat I had nearly killed somebody.
I sincerely hope But, there, I'm
forgetting the rain and you've no urn
brella. HI, there you with the tent!
I'll give you Ave dollars for It!"
This to a ragged old man who, nev
ertheless, seemed to be comparatively
happy, having a misshapen but Invit
ing umbrella.
"Done!" said the old fellow. Jumping
eagerly at the bargain. "It ain't much
of a beauty for promenading, sir, and
mebbe It ain't worth so much, but "
"It is to me," said Clayton. 'Here's
the money. Now," turning once more
to Lily, "let's find a more sheltered
place."
Beneath the ugly umbrella the young
couple hurried along toward a huge
tree that seemed to offer some protec
tion from wind and rain.
"How strange," remarked Clayton,
that we should suddenly find our
selves Journeying along together again
once more. Just as we used to do, as
though we had never quarreled! At
this moment I can scarcely realize that
all is over "
"It Isn't," snapped the girl emphat
ically, "I mean, the rain isn't over
yet But It will soon be, and and you
really needn't have bothered about an
umbrella."
"Well, you needn't stand so far away,
If you do hate me."
He took her arm and pulled her, ever
so gently, toward him.
She noticed, as she leaned nearer,
that bis heart was pounding violently,
but hoped he was not as observant of
the fluttering of her own.
"I suppose Wilfred Gray would be
grudge me these few moments with
you if he knew."
Let us talk about something imper
sonal," said she. . "The rain, for in
stance."
"Don't you find that a sufficiently
dampening subject already?"
"Well, then um er Oh, yes! Have
you seen Miss Gertie Terry lately?"
"I have, very lately. I tell you, I
like Gertlo Terry tremendously."
"I know you do. It's an old at
tachment"
She made a proud but unsuccessful
attempt to free her arm from his.
"Why shouldn't I like her?" he con
tinued. "I'm to be the best man at her
wedding next month. She marries my
friend Bentley."
Lily unconsciously breathed a sigh
of relief.
"Aren't you happy, alone here with
me, Lily?" he queried, with sudden and
uncontrollable tenderness.
"Goodness! There's a perfect stream
running down this slope. My skirt is
all draggly!"
"What a thoughtless fool I am!" he
exclaimed. "Here, step up on this
bench."
He helped her upon the bench, and
took his place beside her, and both
laughed again like children.
"I wouldn't part with this umbrella
now for a million. Why, where on
earth is your engagement ring, Lily?"
"What has that to do with the um
brella?"
"Answer me. You must What has
become of your rng?"
"I'm sure I don't know what he did
with it, after I sent it back to him."
"Then you're not You're free?"
Silence.
"Lily, guess what I'm going to da"
"Don't you dare. Remember, you
said when we parted you would never
forgive me for flirting with Wilfred.
That's why I grew reckless and en
gaged myself to him. That's why "
Hang Wilfred! I'm about to kiss
the tip of the prettiest ear in Chicago!"
"If you do 111 never forgive you.
Besides, they can see, us plainly from
the boulevard."
"I don't care If the whole world "
nondescript woebegone woman,
BARON KUROKI
1
1 i. eu V v - - "'. m
' 1 -, . V 'tiff '. .''
llAUON KUltOKI, COMMANDING T1IK F1H8T JAPANBSlfl ARMY.
Baron Kurokl. comuiander-ln chief of the First Japanese Army, Is re
nowned as an organiser and as a fighter, qualities which ho proved In the
victory of Klu llen-cheng on May Day, and In the masterly movements by
which he has Isolated Port Arthur and rendered General Kuropatkln's posi
tion lu Manchuria one of extreme difficulty. Kurokl saw service during the
Chlno-Japanese War in 1804. At first he superintended the mobilisation; be
then went to the front and was present at the storming of Wel-hal-WeL
The Japanese soldiers are devoted to their commander, who, although 02. has
all the energy of a young man.
with a sodden hat. Its limp black feath
ers trailing mournfully acroew her
cheek, suddenly made her appearance
In front of the bench and paused shlv-
erlngly, as If anxious to remain In the
company of two beings so warm and
happy looking In the midst of all the
bleakness.
"I'm a stranger here. Won't you
please tell me the way out of the
park?"
"Certainly, madam; go that way,"
replied Clayton, pointing anywhere.
She had scarcely disappeared when
the history making umbrella. In re
sponse to the Invitation of a passing
gust of wind, turned suddenly Inside
out Clayton, after a moment's dis
may, reversed the ludicrous looking ob
ject, and held It over them by Its apex,
the homely bulldog handle standing on
guard far above.
Then he repeated his question to
Lily the only question in the world at
that moment
"Won't you forgive the past, Lily?"
Won't you let bygones be bygones, and
wear my ring once more?"
The "Inverted bowl" of the umbrella
was brought down so far over their
heads that it completely hid them from
view, and for two foolish young lovers
the beating rain was turned Into a
golden mist
e e e e e e
A policeman's finger tapped Clayton
sharply on the arm.
"You can sit on the bench if you
like, but you're not allowed to scratch
the paint by standing."
The bewildered couple suddenly be
came conscious that the sun was shin
ing brightly, and that half a dozen
Idlers stood there In the walk, gaping
curiously at them.
"Nor vou don't need your umbrella
now,' added the policeman, with an
Incipient grin. "If s been fine for the
last half hour." Chicago Tribune.
80ME WAY8 OF THE WORLD.
Little Delusions and Realities Keep
Children Happy and Contented.
"Where are you going, Tommy?"
said his mother, as a small boy with
a big basket, and looking very Im
portant, stalked Into her room. "Go
In to woods to look for babies," said
Tommy, as if the quest was the most
natural one in the world. Ills pretty
young governess, who followed him,
explained: "Yes, we are going to look
for baby trees." she said; "baby oaks,
baby elms, baby walnuts and chest
nuts. In fact, every baby that will
grow Into a big tree, and then we are
going to bring them home and have
a baby farm." "Yeth, we're goln' to
have a baby farm," repeated Tommy,
brandishing a trowel. His mother
laughed. "You look as If you were
going to chop up the poor little things
by way of a beginning," she re
marked. "No, only dig them carefully
up," said the pretty young governess,
smllfrlg. "Dig 'em keerfully up,"
echoed Tommy seriously, evidently
impressed by his responsibility.
The next morning he called his
mother out to inspect his "baby
farm," which was really most inter
esting. The gardener had given him
a border at the end of the flower gar
den where future shade would be de
sirable,- and here be had made his
"nursery" and planted his "babies"
under the direction and with the as
sistance of "Mlf Mary." They had
succeeded in collecting fully ten speci
mens of the infants of the great for
est trees, two of each kind. A couple
IN THE FIELD.
1
of beech babies, with their two but
terfly outside wings protecting a pair
of queer little crimped, folded green
fans; two fat oak babies, sucking
their nutriment from the divided
halves of their acorns; a pair of horse
chestnuts, with their stems pulled out
of their broken, shining nuts Ilk
loops, to bo straightened shortly Into
1 stem with green leaves; several
sycamore maplos, with their winged
caps like Infant Mercurys announc
ing spring, and two pine seedlings,
like elfin umbrella sticks without the
covering. "We've fed 'era so gooi,"
explained Tommy, "and put 'em to
bed. Jim digged a little hole and put
In manure; then I put on some nice,
soft earth, .and Mlf Mary made little)
puddles with water and put the babies
to bed. Plant babies In beds like
that!" And Tommy roared with
laughter at the queer habits of the
underworld people.
Pah Cart Trust Formed.
City oitlctals have discovered the ex
istence of ono of the most interesting
of trusts a combination among hold
ers of push cart licenses over on the
cast side of Manhattan, which con
trols, it Is believed, almost exclusively
the push curt trade and is extorting
unreasonable rates from peddlers for
the use of Its cufts. One of tho heads
of deportments under Mayor McClol
lnn has been Investigating the process
by which tho combination manages to
control the push cart trado and tho
matter has been brought to the atten
tion of. the moyor. The investigation
Is being continued and before long
some interesting disclosures In con
nection with the operations of the push
cart trust are expected.
According to the city official who
has had the matter under investigation
there appears to be a padrone system
on the East Side which has managed
somehow to obtain licenses for push
carts at $2 and 4 a year. Instead of
using the push carts themselves those
behind the system let them out to
peddlers at the rate of 15 cents a day.
On this basis one push cart alono
would bring in a profit of over $50 a
year, and as the number of carts con
trolled by the syndicate Is large it can
readily bo seen that the push cart
trust derives a handsome profit from
Its scheme.
The city authorities ' are somewhat
aroused over the condition of affalra
which has been unearthed and threat
en to make it warm for the promoters
of the syndicate if they obtain evi
dence against them, as it Is claimed
that not only are they charging ex
tortionate rates for the use of the push
carts which they own, but that they
are mulcting the city by depriving it
of revenue which if there were no
combination would readily fall to It
Brooklyn Eagle.
Not Changeable,
"Isn't this climate changeable?"
asked the newcomer.
"No," answered the old inhabitant,
rather brusquely. "It ain't change
able. If it was. don't you suppose
we'd have traded it off for somethln'
else long ago?" Washington Star.
Case of Spilled Mlllc
She You married me for my
money.
He Well, no use to grieve over It
now. ' It's all gone. Town Topics.
Beware of the man who freely give
advice. He probably wants to get rli
of It
t