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.