The Yamhill County reporter., January 10, 1902, Image 6

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fbe Doctor's dilemma
By Hesba Stretton
CHAPTER XXVIII.
I do not know why terror always strikes
me dumb and motionless. I did not stir
or speak, but looked steadily, with a
fascinated gaze, into my husband s face
•—a worn, white, emaciated face, with
eyes peering cruelly into mine. It was
an awful look; one of dark triumph, ol'
sneering, cunning exultation. Neither of
us spoke.
He sank down on tlie sent beside me,
with nn nir of exhaustion, yet with a
low, fiendish laugh which sounded hide­
ously loud ill my cars, llis fingers were
still about my arm, but he hud to wait
to recover from tlie first shock of his stic-
cess—for it had been a shock, llis fate
was bullied with perspiration, and his
breath came and went fitfully. 1 th night
1 could even hear the heavy throbbing of
his heart.
“I've found you,” he said, his hind
tightening its hold—and at the first sound
of bis voice the spell which bound me
snapped—"I’ve tracked you out at last
to this cursed hole. The game is up. my
little lady. By heaven! you'll repent of
thia. You are mine, and no man shall
come between us.”
"I don't understand you,” I muttered.
He had spoken in an undertone, and I
could not raise my voice above a whis­
per, so parched and dry was my throat.
“Understand!” he said, with a shrug of
hia Shoulders. “I know all about Dr.
Martin Dobree.
You understand that
well enough. I am here to take charge
of you, to carry you home with me as
my wife, and neither man nor Woman
can interfere with me in that. It will be
lent for you to come with me quietly.”
“I will not go with you,” I answered,
in the same hoarse whisper; “I am liv-
and shouted gleefully through the key-
hole.
"Come down, Aunt Nelly,” she cried;
“Monsieur Laurentie is come home
again!”
I felt as if some strong hand had lifted
me out of a whirl of troubled waters and
set me safely upon a rock. I ran down
into the salon, where Monsieur Lauren­
tie was seated, as tranquilly as if he
had never been away, in his high-backed
armchair, smiling quietly at Minima’s
gambols of delight. Jean stool just with­
in the door, his hands behind his back,
holding his white cotton cap in them; he
had been making bis report of tlie day s
events. Monsieur held out his baud to
me, and 1 ran to him, caught it in both
of mine, bent down my face upon it, and
burst into a passion of weeping, in spite
of myself.
“Come, come, madame!" he siil, his
own voice faltering a little; "I urn here,
my child; behold me! There is no place
for fear now; I am king in Ville-en-bois.
Is it not so, my good Jean?”
“Monsieur le Cure, you ure emperor,”
replied Jean.
“If that is the case," he continued,
“madame is perfectly secure in my castle.
You do not ask me what brings me back
again so soon. But I will tell you. mad­
ame. At Noirenu, tlie proprietor of the
omnibus to Granville told me that an
Englishman bad gone that morning to
visit my little parish. Good! We do not
have that honor every day. I ask him to
have the goodness to tell me the English­
man's name. It is written in the book
nt the bureau. Monsieur Fostere. I re-
member that name well, very well, Thnt
is the name of the busband of my little
English daughter. Fostere! I see in a
ing here in the presbytery, mill you can­
not force me away. I will not go."
"The silly raving of mi ignorant girl!’
be sneered. "The law will compel you
to return to me. 1 will take the law
into my own hands, ami compel you to go
with me at once. If there is no convey­
ance to be hired in this confounded hole,
se will walk down the road together,
like two lovers, and wait for the omni­
bus. Come, Olivia.”
Our voice* had not risen much above
their undertones yet. but these last words
he spoke more loudly. Jean opened the
door of the sacristy and looked out, mid
I’ierre came down to the corner of the
transept to see who was speakiug.
I
lifted the hand Hilliard was not holdiug.
and beckoned Jean.
"Jean," I said, in a low tone still, "this
num is my enemy.
Monsieur le Cure
knows all about him; but he is not here.
You must protect me."
"Certainly. madame," lie replied. "Mon­
sieur, have the goodness to release mad­
am».”
"She la my wife," retorted Richard
Foster.
"1 have told all to Monsieur le Cure.”
I said.
"Monsieur le Cure Is gone to England,
it is necessary to wait till his return.
Monsieur Englishman."
"Fool!" said Richard in n passion; "she
Is my wife. 1 tell you."
"Ah!" he replied phlegmatically, "but
It is my affair to protect madame. There
Is no resource but to wait till Monsieur
le Cure returns from his voyage.
If
madame does not say. 'This is my hus­
band,' how can 1 believe you? Mie says,
‘He is my enemy.' 1 cannot confide her
to a stranger."
"I will not leave her," he exclaimed.
"Good! very good! Pardon, monsieur."
responded Jean, laying his iron fingers
upon the hand that held me. and loosen
Ing its grip as easily as if it had be, u
the hand of a child. "Madame, von are
free. Leave Monsieur the Englishman
to me. and go away into the house, if you
please."
I did uot wait to hear any further al­
tercation. but tied as quickly as I could
Into the pre-byteiy. Up into my own
chamber I ran. drew a heavy chest
ag ainst the door and fol! down trembling
ami nerveless upon the floor beside it.
But there was uo time to lose in wom­
anish terrors; my diflleulty and danger
were too great Why should I not write
to Tardif? He had promised to come to
my help whenever nud wherever I might
summon him. I ran down to Madeinoi-
telle Theresa for the materials for a let-
ter. and in a few ' minutes it was written,
and on the way to Sark.
The night fell while I was still alone,
Knddenl.v there ’ was the noisy rattle of
wheels over the rough pavement—the
bay ug of do s an indistinct shout. A
h«t ible dread took hold of
moment it will not do to proceed on my
voyage.”
The cure’s return, and his presence un­
der the same roof, gave me n sense of
security. \\ lien the chirping of the lords
awoke me in tlie morning. I could not at
first believe that the events of the day
before were not themselves a dream.
Matins were ended, and the villagers
were scattering about their farms und
households, when I noticed I’ierre loiter­
ing stealthily about the presbytery, as
if anxious not to be seen. He made me
a sign to follow him out of sight, round
tlie corner of the church.
"I know n secret, madame." he sai 1. in
a troubled tone, "that monsieur who came
yesterday lias not left the valley. I fol­
lowed monsieur your enemy. He did not
go far away.”
"But where is he then?” I asked, look­
ing down the street, with a thrill of fear.
"Madame,” whispered i'ierre, "he is a
stranger to this place, ami the people
would not receive him into their houses
not one of them. My father only said,
'He is an enemy to our dear English
■uudame,' and all the women turned I the
back upon him. 1 stole after him, , be-
hill the trees and the hedges,
He
marched very slowly, like a man very
weary, till lie came in sight of the fac­
tory of the late Pineanx.
ile turned
aside into the court there, I saw him
knock at the door of the house, try to lift
tlm latch, and peep through the windows
After that he goes into the factory; there
is a door from it into the house, lie
passed through. I dared not follow him,
but in one short half hour I saw smoke
coming out of the chimney. The smoke
is there. The Englishman has sojourn­
ed there all the night."
"But. I’ierre," I said, shivering, though
the sun was already shining hotly—
"I’ierre. the house is like a lazaretto. No
one lias been in it since Mademoiselle 1’1-
Iteail died. Monsieur le t'ure locked it
up. and brought away the key."
"That is true, madame.” answered the
l«>y; "no one in the village would go near
the accursed place, but 1 never thought
of that. Perhaps monsieur your enemy
will take the fever and perish."
"Run. Pierre, run!" 1 cried; "Monsieur
Laurentie is in the sacristy with the
strange vieaire. Tell him I must speak
to him this very moment. There is no
time to be lost!"
I dragged myself to the seat under the
sycamore tree, an 1 hid my face in my
hands, while shudder after shudder quiv­
ered through me. I seemed to lie watch­
ing him ag.iiu. as he strode weatiedly
down the afreet, leaning with bent shoul­
ders on his stick, and turned away from
every door at which he asked for rest
and shelter for the night. Ob! that the
time could bu’ come back again, that I
might send Jean to find some safe place
for him where he conld sleep! Baek to
my memory rushed the old days, w hen he
screened me from the unkin Iness of my
step mother, and when he seemed to loie
me. For the sake of those times, would
to heaven ths evening that was K<>ua,
poi
for
I
I
f and the sultry, breathless nir' ', could
only come back again!
I felt as if I had passed through an
immeasurable spell, both of memory end
anguish, before Monsieur Laurentie
came, though he had responded to my
Kiimnious immediately. I then told him
in berried, broken sentences, what I’ierre
had confessed to me.
llis face grew
overcast and troubled, and he at once
started for the factory. He returned af­
ter a long, long suspense.
"My child,” be said, “monsieur is ill!
attacked, 1 am afraid, by tlie fever. I
shall remain with him all this day. You
must bring us what we have need of, and
leave it on the Btone there, as it used to
be.”
"But cannot he be removed at once?"
I asked.
“My dear,” he answered, “what can I
do? The village is free from sickness
now; how can I run the risk of carrying
the fever there again? It is too far to
send monsieur to Noireau. Obey me, my
child, and leave him to me and to God.
Cannot you confide in me yet?”
"Yes.” I said, weeping, "I trust you
with all tnv heart.”
"Go, then, und do what I bid you,” lie
replied. "Tell my sister and Jean, tell
all my people, that no one must intrude
upon me, no one must come nearer this
house than the appointed place.
You
must think of me as one absent, yet close
at hand; that is the difference. 1 am
here, in the path of my duty. Go, and
fulfill yours.”
For three days, morning after morning,
whilst the dew lay still upon the grass,
I went down, with a heavy and forebod­
ing heart, to the place where I could
watch the cottage, through the long sul­
try hours of the summer day.
Here in the open sunshine, with the
hot walls of the mill casting its rays
back again, the heat was intense; though
the white cap I wore protected my head
from it, my eyes were dazzled, and I felt
ready to faint. No wonder if Monsieur
Laurentie should have sunk under it. an 1
the long strain upon his energies, which
would have overtaxed a younger and
stronger man. I had passed the invisi­
ble line which his will had drawn about
the place, and had half crossed the court,
when I heard footsteps close behind me,
and a large, brown, rough hand suddenly
caught mine.
"Mam’zelle!” cried a voice I knew, "is
this you?”
“Oh, Tardif! Tardif!” I exclaimed. 1
rested my beating head against him, and
soilbed violently, whilst he surrounded
me with his strong arm, and laid his
hand upon my head, as if to assure me of
his help and protection.
“Hush, hush! mam’zelle,” he said. “It
is Tardif, your friend, my little mam’­
zelle; your servant, you know. I am
here. What shall I do for you? Is there
any person in yonder house who fright­
ens you, my poor little mam’zelle? Tell
me what to do.”
lie had drawn me back into the green
shade of the trees, and placed me upon
the felled tree where I had been sitting
before. 1 told him all quickly, briefly—
all that had happened since I had written
to him. I saw the tears start to his
eyes.
"Thank God I am here," he said. "1
lost no time, mam’zelle, after your letter
reached me. I will save Monsieur le
(lure; I will save them both, if 1 can.
He is a good man, this cure, and we
must not let him perish. He has no au­
thority over me, and I will go this mo­
ment and force my way in, it the door
is fastened. Adieu, my dear little mam'-
zelle.”
He was gone before I could speak a
word, striding with quick, energetic tread
across the court. »The closed door under
the eaves opened readily. In an instant
the white head of Monsieur Laurentie
passed the easement, and 1 could hear
the hum of an earnest altercation, al­
though 1 could not catch a syllable of it.
But presently Tardif appeared ngain in
the doorway, waving his cap in token of
having gained his point.
It seemed to me almost as if time had
been standing still since that first morn­
ing when Monsieur Laurentie had left
my side, mid passed out of my sight to
seek for my husband in the fever-smitten
dwelliug. Yet it was the tenth day af­
ter that when, as I took up my weary
watch soon after day break, I saw him
crossing the court again ami coming to­
wards mo.
What had he to say? What could im­
pel him to break through the strict rule
which had interdicted all dangerous con­
tact with himself? His face was Pale,
and his eyes were heavy as if with want
of rest, but they looked into mine us if
they could read my inmost soul.
(To be continued.>
Why We Need Hobbies.
Business Is not Inseparable from
higher tilings. Men may lie born gro­
cers, but need not live only as grocers.
Solon and Thales, wise men of the
Greeks, were merchants; l’lato peddled
oil; Spinoza, the philosopher, mended
spectacles. Linnaeus was a cobbler as
well as a botanist. Sliakspeare prided
himself more upon his success as a
stage manager than ns a draiuatist.
Spenser was a sheriff. It might require
a rather strong wrench of the imagina­
tion to imagine sheriffs of to-day writ­
ing another "Faerie Queen"—but why?
Milton taught school, as have almost all
great men. Walter Scott, the wizard of
the North, was circuit clerk and prac­
tical man of affairs; Grote was a Ism-
don banker. Ricardo a stock jobber and
sir Isaac Newton master of tlie English
mint. Paul was a tent maker and the
Great Gentleman an apprentice at a
carpenter's bench.
"I practice law simply to support my­
self,” said one of the greatest of St.
Ieiuis attorneys an attorney-at-law,
not an attorney at-polllles—“but my
real life is at home in my library.”
Thoroughly practical people need the
help of hobbies to keep them from
shriveling up.—St. Ixtuis GlobeDeiuo-
ct at.
HIgh-l'rieeil Hook.
The biggest price ever paid for a book
was $44.given for an original copy
of the Psalterium, published by Faust
In 1450. It was bought by Bernard
Quariteb.
Taamaaia'a 'linerat Wealth.
Tasmania, in proportion to Rs area.
Is the richest In Australasia's colouies
in mineral wealth.
BORN INTHECOUNTRY
NO BOY NEED EVER BE ASHAMED
OF IT.
I
Oaily Contact with Nature (lives
Health, Happiness, Purity arid Peace,
and What Is There that la More
Worth Striving For?,
No lioy need ever regret that he was
born in the country and reared on a
farm, says former Secretary of Agri-
culture J. Sterling Morton in the Con-
servative. He may lack the keenness
and polish of his city cousin. He may
I lie embarrassed by his own awkward­
ness and feel that be is at a hopeless
disadvantage in the race, but the coun­
try boy has the advantage of a wider
range of practical ideas. From the very
first his little services are in demand.
He becomes at once a part of the force
that is making for home comfort and
prosperity and feels the independence
of one who is helping to aupport him-
l self and add to the general store.
The country boy Is likely to regard
his life as one of drudgery, and such it
may be if he loses Interest in his sur­
roundings or is pressed with a contin­
ued round of duty.
There is something heroic In the
country boy's struggle with the ele-
ments. Rain and snow and sleet only
brace his courage. The garnering of the
crops, the housing and feeding of the
domestic animals, the gathering and
preparation of the winter fuel, give a
purpose and zest to bls toil.
Then there is the long tramp, some-
times of miles, to the district school;
lessons learned before and after long
hours of labor, Is it any wonder there
are keen wits developing all outside of
graded systems and in defiance of peda­
gogical order? It Is the intensity of
purpose with which the mind acts un­
der the influence of vigorous health
and the conscious value of time that ac­
counts for these results. So from the
farms is being supplied a stream of ac­
tive world workers—men not afraid to
do their duty and bubbling over with
energy and ambition.
From the little red schoolhouses come
into our colleges and schools of higher
grade aspiring youth. Some are seek­
ing an education as a means of eman­
cipation from the drudgery of labor.
Others come with a true thirst for
knowledge. They find their way into
the professions and business world, but
few go back to the farm.
What an ideal thing it would be for
the young men trained in science and
holding the key to nature's mysteries
and beauties to go back to live, broad,
cultured and quiet lives in the midst of
tlie most delightful environment in
which God lias ever placed man!
Touch the country-bred boy, now the
merchant prince or the successful pro­
fessional man, .and how responsive he
becomes to every suggestion of rural
life. The same cannot be said of boys
reared in the midst of any other sur­
roundings. It is the contact with nature
that makes the indijjible impression
upon his life. No greater gain could
come to the country nt large than to
promote the love and appreciation of
rural life. Health, happiness, purity
and peace are the natural inheritance
of those who dwell surrounded by tresh
air, beautiful scenes, bright skies and
pure social influences.
QUEER WAYS OF THE MARTEN.
A Peculiar Habit that Has Saved the
Animal from Extinction,
“The Hudson Bay marten, the little
fur-bearer whose skin is ever popular
and at times exceedingly valuable, is
still plentiful in that region of fur­
bearers.” said W. B. Salmon, one time
a trapper for the Hudson Bay Com­
pany, "but 1 believe It would have been
virtually extinct there long ago if it
were not for a habit It 1ms of making
periodical disappearances, of which 1
never heard any satisfactory explana­
tion.
"These disappearances occur every
ten years. Where the animals go no one
knows. No dead ones are ever found,
and no one has yet discovered any evi­
dence of tlieir migration to any other
region. A few martens, of course, re­
main on their old feeding grounds, but
during the season of the disappearance
of their fellows none of them will touch
the bait In a trap and consequently
none is caught. Tlie next year the mar­
tens are back again in their old haunts
as numerous as ever, and for ten years
more submit to being caught.
"The Hudson Bay martens seem to
be the only ones of the species that
have this strange habit. The Lake Su­
perior martens don't waste any of their
time in disappearing voluntarily, but
are found at the old stand year in and
year out. housing themselves In hollow
trees in the deepest woods and making
life a perpetual burden to birds, squir­
rels. rabbits And other small game on
which they prey.
"The Lake Superior marten has one
predilection of the palate in which he
resembles the bear. That is a passion
for honey. He will line a wild bee ‘o Its
home with the precision of the most
expert bee hunter, and the hidden
sweets of that bee colony will have to
be in a most inaccessible place If the
marten doesn't soon revel In them. Like
the male mink, the male marten has an
overpowering love for his own off­
spring. but for the offspring of his fel­
low martens--such peculiar love, in­
i' si. that if it wasn't for the instinct
and shrewdness of the mother martens
the race of martens would have been
unknown long ago. The male marten is
so fond of his young that he will eat
them up whenever he happens to find
them. The mother, therefore, bears her
young in some secret hiding place, and
keeps them hidden until they are half
grown and able to defy the cannibal­
istic love of tlieir sire. The female miuk
exercises the same instinct with her
FORTY-SECOND COUSINS.
progeny, for the father of them as fond
According
to the Professor It Is the
as be is of trout and other tlsh. will
Remotest Relationship.
leave Ids tlshlng any time to dine on
He was professor of mathematics in
his interesting little family.”—Boston
one of our women's colleges, middle-
Evening Transcript.
aged, fond of a joke and given to re­
ducing the things of common life to
A HERO’S AFFLICTION.
formulas, partly for the fun of it and
Osborne Deignan, of Merrimuc Fame, partly to bring mathematical truths
Now in an Insane Hospital.
closer to the minds <»f his pupils. One
Pathetic is the condition of Osborne day, just before the lecture began and
Delgnan, one of the heroes of the Mer­ as the professor came in, he overheard
rimac episode in the Spanish-American one of the girls say, with a sigh: "Oh.
war. When Hobson he's some forty-second cousin, 1 believe,
called for volun­ and I suppose I must show him
teers to go with him
”
to attempt the per­ around.
"You should be careful,” interjected
ilous feat of sinking
the professor, with a fairly successful
the vessel in the
effort to appear solemn, "you should be
mouth of Santiago
more careful in your use of mathemat­
harbor in order to
ical terms. Are you sure you are strict­
"bottle up” the
ly accurate when you say ’forty-second
Spanish fleet, Deig-
cousin?’ He may be a closer degree of
nan was the first to
offer h i s services relationship.”
"Why! He’s no relation at all, if it
11EUO DE1OXAN.
and the first to be
conn’s to that,” said the fair student.
selected. Following the sinking of the
"It is,” resumed the professor, imper­
Merrimac, tlie capture of the daring
turbably, "as you doubtless know al­
party of American sailors and their
ready. a question of th# powers of 2.
subsequent release by the Spaniards,
We all have two parents, four grand­
President McKinley was anxious to re­
parents, eight great-grandparents, six­
ward each of the young lieroes. Delg-
teen great-great-grandparents, each fig­
nan was personally complimented by
power of 2 and in —N—
the President and offered a cadetship ure being a
consequently we have a
generations
in the Naval Academy at Annapolis,
with (N—1) greats in front
but it was found that he was ineligible. I grandparent
It also obtains inversely.
Then lie was appointed a boatswain of the title.
All who trace to the same parents are
in the United States navy and his ap­
brothers or sisters, to the same grand­
pointment as a warrant odicer was
parent are cousins, to the same great-
made April 5 of this year.
grandparent are second cousins, to the
He had served but a day or two
N—G grandparent are (N plus 1) tlr
when he was ordered on the sick list,
After a serious illness ft was found that cousins.
"The powers of 2, however, reae
bls mind was affected, and recently be
was taken to Ukiah, Cal., and placed tounding figures rather quickly,
have 1,023 (0—great) grandparents
in the Ukiah Hospital for the Insane,
It is believed that his affliction is only each, for example. Going back twenty
temporary, und that bis stay in the hos­ generations, we have each a little more
than a million 19—great-grandparents,
pital will be short.
over a billion 29—great-grandparents,
and in the forty-third generation we
.
Wagner and His Dog Peps.
’ Richard Wagner, the composer, was have each about 1,438,800,000,000 42—
tripled to dogs, and Peps had become great-grandparents, and all who trace
Wagner’s property during his stay at back to any one of those 1,438,800,000,-
Riga
He had belonged in the first 000 are forty-second cousins.
"If you consider a moment, you will
place, says Our Animal Friends, to an
English merchant, but became passion­ see that at each.of this thousand bil-
ately attached to Wagner and followed lions is a progenitor, tliat there is little
him everywhere, lying on bls door-step room in the world's population, as at
at night. The original owner found it present constituted, for the mob of
cousins. There is a saving clause.
useless to attempt to keep him.
On the way to rehearsal the dog was however.- This would only obtain if
in the habit of taking a daily bath in everybody was careful not to marry in
the canal. Being a Russian dog, it Is the same line of descent.
"In practice we usually object to
recorded of him that he kept up this
habit even in winter, provided he could marrying cousins and some people draw
tlie line on second cousins, but to make
find a hole in the tee.
I'eps was one of the great composer's tlie above statement come true we
most famous dogs. Wagner always in­ should object to, say, forty-second cou­
sins, which is impossible, practically.
sisted that I’eps helped him to compose
We cannot, in practice, draw the line on
“Tannhäuser.”
twentieth cousins, for example. If two
When at the piano singing, the dog,
twentieth cousins marry, it throws out
whose constant place was at his feet,
one from the million of nineteen g reat-
would occasionally leap to the table,
grandparents to be considered, and so
peer into liis face and howl piteously.
with the other degrees. Probably in
Then Wagner would address his elo­
practice that is what we are always
quent critic with:
doing—when we marry. We are almost
“What, it does not suit you?”
undoubtedly marryin ig
¡ at least a twen-
Then, shaking the animal’s paw, he
ty-fifth cousin, and everybody in tlie
would say, paraphrasing Shakespeare:
world is at least a forty-second cousin
"Well. 1 will do thy bidding gently.”
and probably somewhat nearer in rela­
Peps is frequently mentioned in bis
tionship.”
correspondence. If Wagner remained
"Gracious!” said the original offender,
too long at his work I’eps would re­
a blonde, by the way. “If I am born in
mind him it was time to walk.
St. Louis and a young man is born in
”1 am done up. and must get Into the Newton—at—at—well, about
the same
open air,” he writes once. "Peps won't time—are we related?”
leave me in peace any longer.”
“Certainly,” responded tlie
with a grin. "You are (N plus 1) tit
Edison and His “Annihilator.”
cousins, having descended from the
One of the pranks of the youthful
same N—g grandparent, possibly along
Edison, when his genius was just begin­
where N is less than 30 at least.”
ning to show itself, is} described in Col­
"Gee,” said the tall brunette of the
lier's Weekly. Probably the danger to
class, who had been listening, as she
human as well as insect life involved
felt of her back hair and helped her­
In bls electric "annihilator” prevented
self to a caramel, according to tlie Bos­
its general adoption.
ton Herald, "he would be an n—ggraud-
Edison's early wanderings brought
parent all right.”
him at 17 years of age to the Cincin­
nati office of the Western Union Tele­
A CHINESE STORY.
graph Company, where his absorption
in electricity and predictions of its fu­ Public Frightened by Mysterious Chalk
Mark, Made by a Bdy.
ture power confirmed the nickname of
A
strange
state of mind evidently
"Luny,” which clung to him eveu until
prevailed in Pekin during the Boxer
his fame was established.
"We have the craziest chap in our of­ outrages outside the walls outrages
fice;" said the telegraph manager to the which were momentarily expected to
editor of tlie Cincinnati Commercial be repeated within the city limits. Ev­
Gazette. “He does all sorts of queer erybody was preparing for a catastro­
things. 1 shouldn’t be surprised if he phe. and nobody could be sure why. It
turned out to be a genius some day. all seemed like a huge practical joke,
which could not be taken seriously, and
I.et me tell you his last prank.
yet
it was serious, and everybody knew
"We have been annoyed for some
time by cockroaches. They infested it was. There was apparent peace, with
a certainty of coming trouble. The for­
the sink. They don't now. I.uny fixed
them. He just ran two parallel wires eigners were gathering in places of
safety, and the compounds they had
round the sink, and charged one with
left remained unmolested.
negative and the other with positive
One Incident curiously sbqws the
electricity. Bread-crumbs were then
combined lightness and frenzy of the
scattered, and when Mr. Cockroach ap­
public mind. On a certain evening a
peared and put his little feet on the
boy of about sixteen walked down a
wires, ashes were all that were left to
street, marking a door here and there
tell the tale.”
with a circle of white chalk, before
In this cockroach annihilator was the
which he bowed solemnly.
germ of the Incandescent light.
Presently all the people came to their
doors in a great state of excitement,
Not What He Intended to Say.
“My dear, do you suppose this Mrs. and began to discuss the proceeding
Salry Grand, who is always roasting and debate as to what It might mean.
the men so unmercifully, is a mother.” The marked houses might belong to
the friends or foes of the Boxers, the .
”1 don't know. What of It?"
“Nothin', my love. Don't get huffy. saved or lost.
Suddenly a man went up to the boy.
All I wanted to say is that she'd make
a Grand mother, all right."—Cleveland seized him by the pigtail, and asked
hint what he meant. The bystanders
Plain Dealer.
were amazed at a courage which dared
Easiest Part of It.
interfere with an emissary of the Box­
“How have you managed to keep ers. and the boy himself tried to swag­
; /
your cook so long?”
ger a little, and brazen it out.
"Keep her! Great Scott! Can't get
"What were you doing It for?" in­
/
up courage to discharge her.”—Phila­ sisted the man. "Tell, or I take you
to the police station.”
delphia Bulletin.
Then the boy fell on his knees and
A Query.
owned that he was only doing it for a
If the farmer who tills
joke, to frighten the people. His suc­
Makes his living by tillage.
cess had exceeded his hopes.
♦
Does the doctor w ho pills
Make his living by pillage?
—Philadelphia Record.
Expensive.
Mr. Binwed - I'd like to have hold of
the
fellow who invented those long
Every time a man receives an express
package be says the other man agreed coats for women.
Mr. Nebb—Why?
to pay the charges.
Mr. Binwed -Why? Great S-ott!
A blessing in disguise usually has « they cost twice as much as one half as
long. Boston Post.
hard time proviug its ideutllj.