IN THE ORCHARDl
Oh! here, beneath thii roof of grtca,
I throw me down sod dream again
The golden dreame of what has been
And future harvests yet to gain!
The wheat wavea in the field Close by,
An apple, ripened ere Its time.
Drops from the tree, the sun's great eye
Seeks through the leaves, and, as I
rhyme,
The birds weave to and fro and slpg
The very songs I would declare.
And now and then the branches swing
Stirred gently by a wandering air.
The binders, clicking in the wheat,
The whistle of a passing train,
The distant noises of the street.
Are to my song a low refrain.
To-day! To-day I rest at ease
And pick the golden fruits that grow
In solitude on twigs of peace
The fruits that only dreamers know.
New York News.
j UNCLE MARTIN'S MONEY, jj
9iOSEVTLLB was asleep In th
JkV dullness of Sunday afternoon.
44 In Mrs. Maloney's sitting room
there was the odor of strong tea, and
that meant that Mrs. Burns and Mrs.
Ryan had stayed over after mass for
dinner and were having a friendly cup
of tea before they started homeward
with their husbands. The men them
selves were hanging about the vlllaga
somewhere. There hnd been silence for
some minutes a heavy, thoughtful
silence after Mrs. Maloney's last re
mark. The good women were relatives,
cousins in the first degree, and Mrs.
Maloney had been talking of their ma
ternal uncle.
"It's a perfect shame," she had said.
"Uncle Martin has a good deal of
mouey saved up, I am sure. He won't
spend it himself and he won't give
anybody else a chance at it, and, like
as not. when he dies, he'll leave It to
Father Shauahan for something or
other that he happens to take into his
head. Martin's getting dreadful pious
in Uis old days, since he's bsen living
alone In the little bouse."
- "He hasn't It in any bank at Falr
brooke," said Mrs. Ryan, "because Pat
has asked."
"Like as not." Mrs. Burns said, "he
has it hid In the house somewhere.
He's that queer about It, you never
can till.. 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 he wanted to. Not a chick
ntr a chili to hold him."
M.s. Mabney looked thoughtfully at
the speaker. "I saw him get In with
the McGoverns after mass. He was
going out to the farm to dinner with
them. We might walk over to the
house, and if he's In, give him a little
vlblt. . If he isn't "
"The key Is under the doormat,"
sa d Mrs. Burns.
And over to Uncle Martin's the gotd
ladies we;it. He was not at home,
and the key was under the mat. The
boube, though generally cl?an, had th?
air of being managed by a man, which
women see at once. The pipe was laid
away with the cups and saucers, ami
a pair of shoes stood prominently on
cne of the chairs. But none of them
had any eyes for these incongruities
t)-day. ,
"How much," said Mrs. Maloney,
"do you think he might have?" as she
drew out a drawer of the old bureau
and begau going through it.
"A thousand or so," sail Mrs. Burns,
from the depth of an old rag bag.
' I don't believe It's that much," t aid
Mrs. Ryan, as she went through the
old cans and jugs stored away in the
closet.
Tbey were so busy that they did not
hear a step outside, Just as the three
of them concluded to look through the
cornshucks In the tick.
But all their digging brought forth
nothing but a few cents laid away fi r
ready change, less than a dollar alto
gether. Red In the face with hurry, and a
little bit ashamed, too. tbey put thlugs
back as best tbey eouio.
"I wondjr where he has it, any
war?"
; "Do you suppose It is that he really
hasn't any, as he says?" said Mrs.
Burns.
"I'shaw!" Bald Mrs. Maloney, skep
tically. The next morning, however, Mrs.
Maloney was to have more exact
knjwledge as to the amount of Uncle
Martin's money. Her husband, who
was the Tillage countable, along with
be'.ng the biggest storekeeper, came
In to her exii;edly.
Uncle Martin was Just in the store.
and he says somebody has stolen his
money. He says there were signs of
somebody being In his place when he
came borne yesterday evening, and h
thinks he ran find out whn It was."
Mrs. Maloney was skimming the
soup, and she almost dropped the
ladle. After a few moments she
managd to control herself enough to
ask:
"How much does be say be had?"
On hundred and fifty doll :rs. I
would have tbouebt he'd have had
more." But Mrs. Maloney made no
protest. She was suddenly tbankfnl
that the old man was satisfied with
that.
"And then, think," went on her
husband, "of the shame on the town
There hasn't been anybody In the Jail
for more than nve years not sines-
Mr. Maloney Interrupted him:
"What's Uncle Martin going to do
about ltr
"He's gone off to see If be can get
some evidence. He bas a suspicion
who It Is; he's going to b gone until
this evening, and then he's to let me
know. Ilea "
A summons from the store came Just
then, and Mrs. Malum y was, fortu
tutely. lert alone.
"He must bave seen as," she moan
ed. as she dxoi'txd into a chslr.
After dinner she wnt out a d hitch
ed Jenny to the road cart, telllr.g her
husband that she was going ror a i t
tie drlvo. Once out of Bight, however,
sbo made Jenny fly.
There were tears and gnashing of
teeth In the Burns and the Ryan
households, but In the enj the buit.r
mony was produced and. added to
what Mrs. Maloney had arej by ctld
djvsuuuaklng job la tbr vUjfe, t lie
Adurol Developer.-Adurol without alkali gives an excellent developer.
Water, sulphite of soda and adurol form the working solution, which gives
excellent shadows without the slightest fog. Only wlieu under-exposed, the
usual quantity of alkali should be added to the developer. The picture ap
pears slowly, taking even as much as a minute, when over-exposed. Bro
mide of potassium Is a jrood retarder for adurol. In the collodion-emulsion
process adurol has the great advantage of hydrochlnone, preventing the
settlement of any Impure runtter at less pure places. A great advantage is
also the strong Insensibility of the materials toward the carbonic acid of the
atmosphere. I'hoto. Times.
Window TranHparencles.-Old cast-off negatives can excellently be made
use of. A strong fixing soda solution, to which Is added au abundant quanti
ty of red prussiate of potassium, Is prepared as reducer, and in this prepara
tion they are left until the old pictures bave entirely disappeared. The plates
are then well washed and dried. For sensitizing, the ordinary blue solution,
consisting of equal parts of a solution, of green oxide of iron ammonia and
red prussiate of potassium, is applied. (The formula for thjs will follow at
the end.) The bath should act for at least five to six minutes, after which
the plates 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. hen the plute is taken from
the priutiug-franie, put it, film side up. In a tray with water, and the dla
posltlve will almost at once appear clearly. If the exposure wus too long
the shudowa will remain yellow; but this will do no barm, 'as the further
treatment will make this discoloration disappear again. Prepare now a so
lution of ordinary soda (about 10 per cent.) and bathe the well-washed dia
posltlve. It seems to disappear completely, the whole picture becomes yel
low and thin. Now wash again thoroughly, and put the plate in very di
luted muriatic acid about 1 to 80 and you will lie astonished how slow and
handsome the blue picture Is building up. As soon as the desired Intensity
haa been obtained, wash again and dry on a rack. The formula for prepar
ing the 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.; distilled water, 50 g.
Equal parts of Solutions 1 and 2 are mixed. For a few 9x12 plates 30 to 40
c. c. m. seusltizing 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 honte and
put the money into the tick, Tha next
morning early, when the Maleneyi
were at their breakfast. Uncle Mai tin
appeared, chuckling. "It was in the
straw tick," he reported truthful y
enough. "Moved about a littla. I
guess I've made up my mlr.d to take
that trip to Chicago. I 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," tald her
husband. "You miht as well hive
the good of it yourself. You worked
hard enough for it."
Mia. Maloney choked, and set dawn
the tup of coffee 6he was drinking,
and rose hastily f;om the table. Uncle
Martin looked on sympathell.ally.
But the chagrined and angry woman
had one consolutlon. 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.rlt
News.
JIM KEENE.
Who Has Had His Upi and Downs In
Speculation.
Jim Keene, the well-known broker,
who was recently squeezed to the tune
of $2,000,01,0 In Wall aireet, know s the
tips aid downs f
"the market. In 18S4
he suspended pay
m.nt after losing a
foituue of $7,001,000
in six months. Only
six years before he
bad arrived In New
York frsm San
Francisco, where h?
had met with great
success hi bis tp.c-
J til KLENB.
ulatlois. In Cali
fornia Keene had risen from nothing
to an estate of $1,000,000. had lost that
In a Cash, and then by a succession of
held ventures had brought himself to
an em In -nee which carrkd a rating cf
$5,000,000 when he moved to New
York. Ilia first combination was with
1 . i ! N'H
Jay Goul.L with whom be ij?(d In
PgUt ng Wet tern Union with At'an.lc
and Pacific Telegraph. While t!;ey
profited In this camialgn, be brol.e
with Gould shortly afterwards, a'lig
ing that Gov. Kl had gone b-.ck on his
fili-rds and sold them out In the mid
dle of a deal. Gould, on the ot'.;er
hnnd, dev'lared that Kccne had pla.ed
him a tuitihy trick. It u at this
time that Ktene expresrd the op'n
lon tl.at Gi'n'.d was the w t.k.d st ui:n
' in the w tld.
j Keene bad helped up his rronts In
' cash tud nai known to have as uiueb
y. .iirftk ftssgjpt
Im i?0yy' n hi fe'g kid
1 4tMIJ
mairitr
hotoqrapltt)
as J9.0C0.000 in currency when he un
dertook to corner the wheat market.
An attempt to bull Jersey Centia!
stocks, conducted at the tame time as
the wheat coiner, was similarly un
profitable, for the stock went djwn
f rty points In ens day. Whether
Keene might have succeeded In bis
wheat corner or uat 'will never posi
tively be known, for the a'tempt mis
carried when a furgexl tel gram wa--snt
from New York to his Chi a;;o
brok.rs ordering tlnm to tell 2X01.000
busliil.s of wheat. Thi'y lluew it on
ihe market, it became known that
Ket-ne was solilntf, and before ail the
evils h ul been reckon d wl.h Keene
was $(j.0:xi.0 )0 loser on wliea'. .Te.s y
Central cst him over $1,W.,000.
Keene cane bick In 1-8), wh n
stocks took an r.pwaid tnn.l and lied
It, and those vthj had expected to ace
him wane noted his roturu tj fortune's
favor in a mora lavish form than he
had ever en oyed It. His wealth on pa
per rose to $2 ),XK),0,0. He then wui.
Into every game In the market, anj
the see-saw of the slrei't ami of oth.'r
men's brains In CLiifllct with his steal
lly wore down hU fortui.e so tl.at In
April, 1881, he was b llevcd to be at
the end of the road. He went on d,
peratily, rallying by an ocoa-doua
coup, but being overwhelmed by the
collapse of a di al in Northern Paenle.
He then took t d.allng in privileges,
and he sold these so recklessly and
the market turned so unfortunately
that hi e.itangled hims.lf beyond hepc
of redemption, and in 1S81 fai.-d
ngnln.
Mr. Keene got l at'k Into the market
again, and when succ.ss came to him
he paid all the d-.bts that were out
standing when he suspended In 1884.
He turned bull as blocks made unprec
edented advances with the incoming
of this century and was crtdited with
getting out at a profit. His baar cam
pa'gns were the losing ventures of hi
recent years. He was assail d bitterly
by tha Brooklyn Raj.U Transit man
agement in 181)9 and was charted wltli
being the source of the rumjra affect
lug that slock.
tlnderriun l station in Par s.
An extniordiuary piece of engineer
ing Is begun by the municipality of
Paris, which will keep the Place de
POpera closed for nearly a year, and
when It Is reopened it will have be-
L Jttl.-. WIT
r' 'U -t 1 111 lia.
Death if an underground metropolitan
railway station of three floors, where
the several lines will intersect on the
different levels. Metallic flooring will
s?irate the three lines, and will sup
port the roadway. The lowest line Is
twenty one meters deep, but as water
is reached at a depth of ten meters, a
large part of the work will be done
by means of compressed air compart
ments, measuring eight by twenty-five
meters.
In' alil'.a .s of New Mexico Utl ve u
a future S'ute.
Mb
IrMKI rrr:rv V-f- iv.iii T
m y-' -V I
I - 'if l 11
tiff' V . ' riS 1 jJ"rt"'V I .'Ykrll
GIUSEPPE SARTO-POPE PIL'S X.
Born at Rlese, Province of Venice, Italy June 2, 1835
Educated In the seminaries of Trevlso and Padua 1818-1850
A student at the Sacra Tlieologla, Rome 185tl-18.j8
Ordained as a priest Selt- 1S- 1858
Appointed parish priest at Salzano
Elected Chancellor of the Bishopric of
Antmlntml Rlclinll nf MnntllH
Made a Cardinal Priest 12- 18;)3
Recegnized Iry'ope Leo as Patriarch of Venice June 15, 1S93
Elected Tope Au-4- 190a
The new head of the Catholic Church, Cardinal, Joseph Sarto, who has
taken the title of Plus X, ascends the Tapal throne at the same age as his
predecessor, Pope Leo XIII. He brings to that exalted office the same noble
qualities as those of the departed Pontiff. He has been distinguished for
his learning, the purity of his life aid his liberal ideas, so that there will
probably be little change In the policy of the Holy See, either In Us Internal
administration or In Its broader relations 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, lu the popular estimate, wore 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 the United States the
leaders of the hierarhcy say that no more acceptable person could be se
lected. Thus the new Pontiff enters upon his duties amll general expression
of good will.
Cardinal Sarto was born at Rlese, Province of Venice, June 2, 1835. In
1803 he was created Cardinal and Patriarch of Venice. He has had a wide
reputation for his learning, especially In ecclesiastical affairs, and has been
noted as a good organizer and administrator qualities which are requisite In
Papal affairs. He Is a liberal patron of the arts, as so many of ills prede
cessors have been, and despite his 08 years is a man of energy and activity.
Cardinal Sarto belonged to the ecclesiastical congregations of bishops and
regulars, sacred rites, Indulgences and sacred relics. He enjoyed great pop
ularity In his diocese. He is honored by all for bis purity, for the strict up
rightness of bis life, and for liberal ideas. He is a modest and agreeable
man, highly cultivated and very kind hearted. He bas never taken great part
In the political and public life of the church; but divided his time between
study and good works. Although most faithful to the Holy See he was pre
sented to the King and Queen of Italy in Venice. He was considered among
the most liberal members of the Italian episcopate and Sacred College.
Although little is known of the new Pope's political tendencies, he Is con
sidered to be one likely to avoid conflicts and to continue the moderate pol
icy of Pope Leo and Cardinal Rampolla. Officials in Rome recall bis tactful
course In receiving the King and Queen of Italy at Venice, which removed
much of the friction hitherto existing, and led to a warm friendship between
Sarto and Quepn Helena. This incident is cited ns an evidence of his concil
iatory disposition and the likelihood of no material change taking piace In the
policy of the Vatican. The new Pope Is one of the greatest preachers of the
church.
UTAH CAPTAIN OF INDUSTRY.
A. B. tewlt Who Is Interested In a
$30,1)00,000 E iterprise.
One of the prominent men lu the In
dustrial world, about whom little is
said In the Kiist, Is State Senator A. 11.
Lewis, of Utah,
who is associated
with United States
Senator Clark, of
Montana, in a $30,
000,000 organiza
tion for the devel
opment of the great
coal and iron fields
iu the southern
part of Utah. Mr.
Lewis has been at
A. B. 1-Lwis. Hie neau vi
large enterprises In the West, particu
larly In the mining development of his
State; and In some of these his success
has been made the more striking be
cause of tremendous prejudice and op
position, which he was forced to over
come. Mr. Lewis' election to the State
Senate was a tribute from the men
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 his senatorial dis
trict and secured his election by on
overwhelming majority. Mr. Lewis
has been prominently mentioned as the
next new representative from Utah in
the Senate of the United States.
Doe the. Rattler Talk?
"What Is a rattlesnake's rattle for?"
said John Ixver, the zoo kei'r. in re
sponse to a question by a Philadelphia
Record man.
"It Is a call," be resumed, answering
his own question. "The rattlesnake
with It calls his mate. A man was
telling me the other day that he
studied the rattle question last year in
.the West. He said it Is naluly as a
j call that the rattle Is used, though dif
ferent sounds can be made with It,
and these Bounds appear to bave differ
ent meanings.
i "Once this man saw seven hogs at
tack a rattlesnake. The reptile beptn
to fight plucklly, and while be fought
bo rattled loud and long. Three other
snakes came with great speed and
courage to his aid. A dreadful battle
followed. The snakes, though they
foucht well were all killed.
"The rattle Is also said to charm ur
hypnotize birds so that tbe snake ran
seize them easily, but In this utory my
friend doesn't take much stock. It's
as a call, ho says, that the rattle is
tAslb
I
f OPE Pil'S X. 88
Trevlso
NOV. 10,
.1817
.1875
1884
"
used most a love call, generally, with
whlch the male snake summons his
mute."
Military Marriages.
A privilege enjoyed by girls who
marry ollici'is of the Brigade of
Guards Is that of being married in
the chapel in the enclosure at Wel
lington Barracks. The outside Is un
lovely and unpretentious, but Inside
all Is beautiful. The decorations, mu- Jullu! I am glad you have come. The
ral and otherwise, the stained glass, picture is nearly finished and such
and the furniture of this little gem Rood news! De Thales was here this
of military chapels all serve to me- morning and was delighted. Why do
moralize dead aud goue Guardsmen, Jou loult tue door are you afraid
the majority of whom have signally of ghosts following you In?' '
served their country. There Is no or-1 "No. Ce ir. but do Jou kn0w 1 nav
g n. the Instrumental part tf the serv- a strange feeling of fear sometime
Ice being entrusted to one of the mill- 'h I gee Ninette! She peered at mo
tary bands, usually that of the regl- to-day as I came up the stairs, and her
uient lu which the bridegroom belongs. llack eJ'es looked like those of a tl
The voluntaries and the march at the f,rea. Cecil, that girl la dangerous! 1
close of the service are similarly ren
dered. Cold April Kvery 100 Years.
French ineteorologis.8 bave worked
out the theory that exceptional'? frig
Id Aprils occur at Intervals of exactly
100 years. In April, 1803, the gutters
were frozen and snow fell in Paris.
In April, 1703, the price of wood roi-e
and peuple died of cold In the streets,
while a chronicler of the period writes:
"There I snow at Versailles and we
are perishing of cold at Paris at a
season when the sun ought to be
warming us. The north winds afflict
us, bringing us cold from the moun
tains." Documentary evidence Is not
needed to prove that April, 1903, wa.
also distinguished by low tempera
tures. So Pleasing Hi in.
Mother Tommy, what's the matter
with your little brother?
Tommy-He's crying because I'm
eating uiy cake and won't give bim
any.
Mother Is his own cake finished?
Tommy Yes'm, and be cried while
I was eatlu' that, too. Philadelphia
Ledger.
Plain.
Naturally when the Young Tenon
found herself making Somebody Such
a Good Wife her womanly Instinct was
startled.
"Am I bo dreadfully plain as thstr
the exclaimed, uud from that boor lost
interest In life. Detroit Free Press.
lilihz-st Tower In tbe H'orlJ
Tbe highest tower In tbe world, 750
feet high, will be erected at tbe Cea
ml s.ation la New York City.
...LIGHT AND SHADE... g
IXETTE'3 eyes bespoke an ap
proaching sterm. "A fair wom
an strain!" she muttered half
audibly as she gathered up the cards
impatiently to throw for the last time
which should decide If she were right
to doubt Cecil s loyalty. Fearing to
learu the worst, yet determined to
know the truth at auy cost, NinMte,
the dark-eyed artist's model, fpiead
out the fortune-telling cards ou the
pedestal before her, while she awaited
tl:e coming of Cecil Tujrne, master of
the studio' and of her heart.
"Ah! This is better" with a smile
of satisfaction "why, here Is gool
luck again! Perhaps, after all, Ce.ll
Is true. If I touid only understand
th-ir language! But he never speaks
to her In French. Courage, Niu tie!
the last cards tell your st. ry. Is It a
fair lady or a dark girl who Is loved
by Cecil? Dieu!"
The "fair lady's card" had turned
again, ai d Nine.te burst ino a fresh
deluge of teurs Just as the false Cicll
swung open tlie a udio door and. wi.h
out obesrvluif the crouching ttfciiie of
Ninette, b. gan to whistle a merry air.
"How cm you whistle when I am sj
miserable?" said Ninette between h.r
BjtiS.
"Why, bless my soul, Ninette, I nev
er saw you!"
"You have no eyes for me. You
would have seen another if she had
been here."
"Another would not have kept so
silent, perhaps and tears, too! Now
this Is tiresome, when 1 have had such
a turn cf good luck. Listen, Ninette,
and dry your eyes. My picture "
"Of me?' '
"No, no the great one, 'The Dawn.'
will be exbibltid. Then if luck comes
our way, ns Is sure to happen, we can
be you know what!"
Cecil drew Ninette to bim In affec
tionate embrace, too elated wilh his
jwn hope of prosperity . to question
further the cause of tears. Ninette's
THE OKKAT O.NE, "TUK DAWN.
doubts vanished somewhat as tbe ten
der avowals of love fell from the llpt
of her lover. She could not believe
him quite false, and yet why did he
not exhibit her portrait in the salon.
Could not "Dawn" have black hair as
well as golden, and surely the fair lady
was not otherwise wore beautiful than
she.
Cecil Interrupted the unpleasant rev
erie with, "Ninette, do you know I
believe ray love for you has made me
a better painter! M. de Thales wus
here this morning and said tbe warmth
and soul of 'The Dawn' were extra
ordinary." p The announcement that love for her
had aided hlni lu putting warmth and
suul Into the eyes of another woman
was not comforting to Ninette, and
she broke from his embrace Impatient-
ly. Catching up her broad brimmed
hnt kIib duelled nut of the studio and
fchut herself iu her own little chamber,
which was on tbe ground floor. -
"The little vtxeu!" laughed Cec!l.
"I supppose old Gretba gave her a bad
breakfast this morning. She did not
seem properly pleased with tbe passl-
bllity of your being
soon Ab,
hope she Isn't fond of you; you know
that la easily possible with these
French ceraturea of Impulse."
"O, that it Just like you women," re
plied lightly that excellent Judge of
feminine emotion; "always suspicious
of another woman's love. Well, I can
tell you one thing, Julia; Ninette's love
Is less dangerous tlniii her bate, al
though I should not like to trifle with
either. But I, who no thoroughly un
derstand Ninette, shall take care that
no danger attends her love for me."
Ninette had crept from her chamber
and was listening at the keyhole of
the studio with hot breath and angry
eye. How tender his voice! Almost
the only English word that Ninette
knew was "dear," aud she beard hi m
apply It to Julia the fair-haired. She
felt she could burst with jealous pas
sion, but at this moment she heard
familiar voices on the steps and sev
eral comrades stood before her.
"Good -morning, Nina!" exclaimed
tbe foremost on beholding tbe model,
whom all knew to be a favorite with
Cecil, and, locking bis arm familiarly
In hers, tbey entered tbe studio, fol
lowed by the others.
"Hel!o, Thorne Just heard of your
luck, my boy! Give us a shake of the
haud, old chap, before you get too
high up In tbe world to recogniazo old
friends. Let's have a holiday now lu
celebration. Come out of the studio
after to-morrow yon will be too grand
for frivolities."
Julia arose and smiled assent
"Do, Cecil; you work much too
bard. It will do you good. Good morn
ing, tenth men; good by, Cecil Ni
nette!" The last was an exclamation,
r.ot a greeting.
A ' iL
Nln?tte was glaring from her dark
eyes, aud Julia Involuntarily shudder
ed as she lifted her rich silken gown
and swept down tbe stairs.
"O, If I knew how to speak French
I would let tbe little French demon
know she must not siare at me so lu
solently. Poor Ninette! I hope her
love for Cecil will not Interfere with
his work, but I am the last person
lu tbe world who ouyht to blame her
for loving him."
Careless and free as are only tha
plensure-lovlng Auicriean artists who
alternate the study of art with that of
"La Vie" In the Eden of both, Cecil
Thome and h a cnmpanl ns made th'i
cafes In th? Latin quarter of Paris rlnjf
with the'r merriment unt 1 a late hJtir,
when Cecil returned to bis lodging. In
toxleati d with the thonglit of tbe mor
row, lie spent a half hour or so In h's
studio, and after making a few final
arrangements starte.l for bis attic b.d-
room. As he passed the aoor or .Ni
nette's aprimrnts he wondered If she
slept. Then, at a sudden recollection
of his hcp?s and all tbey meant to bim,
be' broke Into a merry whistle aud
m'uutid light-heartedly to his own
doer. His burst of merriment was tbe
last straw.
"To-morrow," she thought. "I will
not forget that I bave helped you to
put warmth aud soul Into her eyes!
You think you shall find fame to-morrow,
aud that the falr-balred, cold
hearted girl will lulp you (o rejoice;
but you do not know Ninette1."
Springing from her couch, she felt
for matches, but could find none. "No
matter," the said. "I know the easel
well. Have I not watch d him bend
ing over It as though he loved the
canvas Itself? DleuJ you should have
exhlbltfd Ninette." Noiselessly, vin
dictively, she groped ber way along
the dark passage Into the studio. Not
even a uiombeam to assist her feet
over the cold stone floor. "Ha the
easel!" she gave a little cry of pain
as ber tender foot came in Contact
with the sharp edge. Then, seizing a
wet brush, with delicious Joy she drew
It again aud again across Ihe picture,
smearing beyond recognition every
corner of the canvas. "There!" sha
said as she threw down the brufh and
started to leave the studio. "There!
Mile. Yellow Hair I bate golden hair
at lat, 1 should bate it if Cecil had
not golden hair."
The thought of Cecil's fair hair,
which she had so often covered with
ardent kisses, recalled ber to a mo
ment of sudden reproach."' What had
she done? She, who pretend -U to love
Cecil, had destroyed the result of a
whole half-year's toll and bis hope of
fortune, and perhaps yes, that selSsb
"perhaps" swept over her with over
whelming force, aud the little criminal
crept back to her chnmber, threw her
self upon her couch, and there remain
ed till her restless slumber was dis
turbed by tbe sound of Cecil's foot
step entering the studio.
She awoke with a start. He whs
walking towards the easel. She dared
not go to hlni; she wsnld wait till the
first outburst of his passion had pass
ed. For a long time there, was abso
lute silence In tbe studio. At last, un
able to bear the suspense, she timidly
opened tbe studio do ;r aud looked In.
AU trace of the defiant Insolence which
made her so bewitching had vanished,
aud she paused submissively, awaiting
tbe volley of reproof which she so
richly deserved. Instead of this, Cecil
smiled at beholding ber and advanc.d
to meet her, and she felt half afraid.
"Ah, there you are, ma ch,ere. Com
and see what some villainous band h..s
done."
"No, no," answered Ninette, still
questioning his sanity. "I cannot look
upon It. O, Cecil, you have driven ma
mad with Jealousy!"
"Jealousy, uia chfire? What on eaith
are you talking about? Do you not
believe that I love you fondly devot
edly "
'Stop! Yon call her 'dear.' Cecil,
answer me this da you love the fair
Julia who sits for 'The Dawn V "
"Lovo her of course I do but not
as I love you."
'There, you confess! I will not share
your love with ber. I was so:ry I d d
It, but now I am glad glad! You
would be famous with her portrait
and she would be glad with you. la
It not to? You dare not deny It!"
"Why, Ninette, how Ktrangtly you
talk! Would the not be au unnatural
woman not to be glad of her trother'a
success?"
"Brother!" almost shrieked Ninette.
"Brother? She la your sister, Cecil?"
"My dear child, do you mean to tell
me you have not known that?"
"Why have you never told me that
before?" r
"Why, Ninette, I never dreamed that
you did not know it. Every one else
knows It, and you bave never spoken
of this before."
"No, I could not bear to speak of
her, and I heard nothing of your talk
I do not understand your English
talk. And now O, Cecil! Cecil! th
picture the villainous band "
"O, yes! to be sure; I nearly forgot
tbe picture with your wild talk. I say,
Ninette, what a good thing The
Dawn' had been removed from tha
easel!"
Ninette burst Into a loud laugh.
"Removed? Say It again, Cecil! It
was removed, and It was not her pic
ture that I O, what would you
have done?"
Th?n the painter realized for tha
first time what she bad lutended to
do.
"You little vixen!" he said seriously,
"did you do It, and did you mean to
spoil The Dawn?1 Ah, Ninette, you
are really too bad!"
But she was not listening. She knew
bow to make her peace with him.
Chicago Tribune.
Certain or One Thin-.
"Does you b'lleve de devil rldea a
white boss?"
"Dunno. But I knowa dis much:
Whatever hoss be rides will sho' git
dar." Atlanta Constitution.
When anyone complains a great deal
of boys, it U a bad si.-n.