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- County a*’ Herald Pickens e * *. Vol. XII. m S FI pip 4 mJA & k ia times . In military sentenced prisons an offender. is some- to carry camion balls from 2”® R la ® c 1 tu”.° e a "o p llc tb f? up al I daylong. That is v all. u Perhaps i it does not seem very terrible but it soon wears his life out. It is practically a death sentence, and he knows it; he would rather be shot. Many a sick man disease feels the same way fugging about the burden of. that lie is back and forth from day to day. He would as soon be down with a mortal disease. It will come to that sooner or later. dyspepsia A mail’s life liver can be dragged out by and complaint. The ex- penence of Mr. J. T. Cardwell, of Fall Creek Depot, Pittsylvania Co., Va., shows how Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discov- ery waking saves people their from consumption by up nutritive organism and giving bipod, it power to supply pure, healthy which drives out blood poisons and dead tissues and builds up sound, whole¬ some flesh and muscle. “ I feci it my duty,” writes Mr. Cardwell in a letter to Dr. Pierce. ” to write you of the lasting benefits derived from the use of Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery and little ‘ Pellets.’ Seven years ago I contracted a severe cold, which baffled the skill of one of the best phy¬ sicians in my State. It ran on and I continu¬ ally the grew worse until I concluded Association.’ to write to 'World's Dispensary Medical The answer to my inquiry advised me to use ‘ Golden Medical Discovery ’ and * Pellets ’ “ for indigestion and liver complaint; at this time two months had passed. In two or three medi¬ days after I had commenced the use of your cine my cough had entirely stopped, my diges¬ tion was better, my low spirits driven away and I felt new life and vi^or in my whole body.” This * marvelous “Discovery” makes nerve force and rugged power. It is far better than oily emulsions ; it does not make weight flabby fat, it does not increase th£ of corpulent ;,cOplc. iHIMoiflflsSiiil ( EY GUYING DIRECT FROM ‘vfc- I £ ROSENSURGER & CO., 702-204 E. 102d St., HEW YORK CITY. ! Tho Largest Clothing - Manufacturers in America, OL’r< GREAT BARGAIN OFFER! itt |L* LjfosrosJ I BOYS’ ABOKIS f E with Extra Pants and B0 B v/e Pay litres sage. These suits a re jgri a ran teccl to be made from Im- mrl-Jd Wool Cheviot, in Black, Blue, Grey and Brown a s ’ js from 3 to 9 years of age. Made up double* v ia'ted, with Sail„r Collar—Collar fancy embroider- d —Hiivd with fast Black Albert Twill Sat en and i f Waist Bands. Trimming £1 ii.'Iunanship -• v ]} v t;est. Sties for 10 to 15 years, Without Sailor o.J.n.v*. Mention Osje and if I: 3me or small. proportioo- I S This S-yie ? {.-?»•, i CO * 1 | 'M >" :k -■ I on 7\ .0 !.\ Game ;■ in o""A \M I C -/A ! I ouths’ * i J W . V ’ y r ■k r -TX--V' '', s ispres.'. Men’s Yvi:cn * Money orderin'? Order send or \ Kei»lstored -t ..••'••.rc, fw* e'fflW'sj j:>;; I ' nl.viTn. vitUf ind *i)n*v •etters, imoles, if ictory ' I clieerfully ' urge t alsa tape or agj Send measure, small at -Jr refunded 2C la>t for ytnmps measuring birthday, liis if aijl*. not for r I PI etc. yif DROPSY CURED with vegetable Remedies. Have cured ma n y tho;;s ind ca-^es called hope!i............ hh In ter* •ifcya at least two-third* of all .symptomw reinov- ••’i TeaMmonial* and TER DAYS treatment free. DR. fi. H. G 2EE1VS SOUS, Box K. Atlanta. G* POPULAR : : Monarch Organs. Renowned for their QUALITY CF TONE and DURABILITY. Every instrument fully guar¬ anteed for five year:-. D. H. BALDWIN & CO., Louisville, Ky. 50 YEARS’ EXPERIENCE •T bjRSjaJSSC Trade Marks i Designs Copyrights <to. Ar.vone ser.dlnj? a sketch and description mny iilckly ascertain our opinion free whether nn strictly in is probably confidential. patentable. Handbook Communion- Patents ilo mu on sent free. Oldest agency through for securing & Co. patents. receive Patents taken Munn special notice, without charg-e, in the Scientific American. c A aKn°o T fSnSS: jl Sold jewsdeaierj. Wft year; lour months, by ail, New York i , Branch OfijceTmlW Pt., Wnabinjfton, D. C. A JUDGE’S STORY. “Should a lawyer defend a man charged with murder when ho knows the man to he guilty?" This question led to an animated discussion, which, after some two hours, was brought to an end by the judge suddenly exclaim¬ ing, “Do yon see that man?” The benchers turned their faces in the direction indicated by the speaker jnst in time to sea a tall, lank man in fihabb 5' atlire leave tbe bniW5n «‘ Before a word was spoken by any of tbe curious benchers the juibce said, as though , , musing . to himself, ,, though , in n tone loud enough for the others to hear Strange that , I should , ,, sec that , man just at this moment and when we were discussing a: fi ,, n , sin ,, a question nrpst ion that Biiat he lie could could have answered. His life, like mine, jhas been a failure; but, thank God, my 're- though , , . be f?rets, many, can never as bitter as his are. He ruined his career as a lawyer , . b 7 defending . , ,. a man who . had confessed that he was guilty of IMnr .i„.. “Tell us the story,’’exclaimed the one known as the proctor. “He was mined,” began tbe judge, “by his ambition. ’’ “Ambition." suggested the solicitor, with a genial smile on his kindly, clean shaven face, “is responsible for much good and much evil. It is ambition thnt has made wrecks, legal driftwood, of many of us. We have dreamed of great deeds in our profession; we have builded fairy castles in the air, while others have by hard work succeeded. I for one”— “The story, the story!’’ exclaimed several of the benchers. The judge, thus urged, told his story: “Some 40 years ago it was that I en¬ tered the small courthouse in a small town in the western section of New York. Court was in session, and the hush that had fallen upon tho crowd in the room was oppressive. Nothing was heard at that time but the ticking of the clock and the breathing of the spec¬ tators. The presiding judge was look¬ ing up some legal question in the law books before him. The rapt attention of the jurors and the eagerness of the counsel caused me to realize that a trial of more than ordinary interest and im¬ portance was in progress. I asked a by¬ stander what the case on trial was. He gazed at me in surprise for a moment and then exclaimed, ‘You must be a stranger in these parts?’ “‘I am,’I replied. ‘I have just come hero from New York city to file a com- plaint in action of ejeetmeut. ’ an “ ‘This,’ replied my informant, ‘is a murder trial, and there,' ho pointed in the direction I was to look, ‘is the man who will certainly hang.’ “I looked at the prisoner at the bar. He was a good looking young fellow about 25 years of age. There was some- thing in the expression of his pale face that convinced me of his guilt. “While the trial judge turned over page after page of the law books I learn- ed the details of the crime. ” Here the story teller took a nip from the fiask tho proctor handed to him ami then resumed: “I learned that in his house on the outskirts of the town, one morning two months before the day of the trial, John Peterkin, a wealthy old man, who had been, it was said, in the habit of keeping largo sums of money in his house, was found murdered, shot in the back. The murdered man had been seated when he was shot, for his chair was overturned just ns he had fallen from it. Peterkin, who was about 07 years old, lived alone with his niece, a pretty girl about 18 years old. She it was who discovered the murder. When she had sufficiently recovered from her alarm, the niece, Mary Peterkin, aroused I the neighbors. “At first it was thought that the motive of the crime had been robbery, but when the police discovered that the ! safe, the door of which was unlocked i and half way open, contained $1,750, j and that the old man’s watch had not been taken, thut theory had to be aban- doned. For several days the case was a mystery. Then it came to the knowl- ; edge of the chief of police that Hose; 11 Renidder, the only son of a widow, whose father had been postmaster of the little town, had been seen unkindly around the house and had spoken of old Peterkin. Iieuidder was pat und:r arrest. “When I had learned this much,” said tha judge, “the trial judge, whom 1 we will call Blank, looked up from the ! legal books and said, ‘I will admit the | testimony objected to.' “While Judge Blank was reviewing the law questions I looked at Mary j Peterkin. She was seated in the rear of the courtroom and was an exceedingly pretty young woman, the pallor of her refined face illumined b 7 large blue eyes. She was in deep mourning, which ! but enhanced ‘Proceed,’ her exclaimed beauty—, Judge Blank. j ! “ “The witness on the stand—a police officer—then testified that he had found a small revolver with an ivory 7 handle in some bushes just outside cf tha win- dow of the room where the crime had been committed. “ ‘Were there any marks on that re¬ volver ?’ asked Horace Dash, counsel for the prisoner, tbe man I just pointed out to you. “ ‘Yes.’ replied tbe witness. “ ‘What were the marks?’ “ ‘The initials M. P..’ replied the witness. 1 1 « Did you ascertain who owned that pistol?' asked Lawyer Dash. “ ‘Yes; Mary Peterkin.’ J “An exclamation of surprise went around that little courtroom. Mary ! Peterkin started np in bewilderment and then fell back iuto her chair. . i “ ‘Silence in the courtroom!' ex- j claimed Judge Blank. “With a face paler than that of ei- ther the prisoner or the niece of the murdered man, Lawyer Horace Dash. Jasper, Georgia, Friday, April 21, 1891). counsel for Ihe prisoner, said totliewit- ness, ‘Btep down. ’ “Tlie nest witness called was n wom¬ an who had formerly been employed by old Peterkin as a housekeeper. She was exceedingly nervous, and her voice trembled when die swore to tell tho truth. There was a malignant expres¬ sion on the face cf the counsel for the prisoner when he tasked the witness: “ 'Do you know Mary Peterkin?’ “ ‘I do,’ waa tho reply. “ ‘She is tho niece of the murdered man?’ “ ‘She is, ’ replied tho woman in a whisper. dead “ ‘Yon oneo lived with the man and his niece?' “ ‘I did.' “ ‘Did uncle and niece ever quarrel?' “ ‘Must I answer that?' asked the old woman, turning toward Judge Blank. “ ‘You uinst,’ sternly replied the judge. “ ‘Yes. They quarreled, ’ faltered the witness. “ ‘What about?' asked the counsel for the prisoner. “ ‘She—Mary—wanted to marry a man her uncle did not approve of.’ “All eyes were turned toward Mary Peterkin, who, with an expression of horror on her face, sat crouched up in her chair. Every one in that courtroom seemed to realize that the testimony al¬ ready adduced against the prisoner at tho bar was as nothing c<J>ipared the with girl. that just brought out against The prisoner at the bar was pale and trembling and, 1 thought, an object of abject misery. Then the thought Hash¬ ed across my mind that he might he in¬ nocent. It waa evident that Lawyer Dash was struggling with himself when he asked the next question. Peterkin “ ‘Did you ever hear. Miss threaten her uncle?’ “ ‘I heard her say onco that she wished he was dead. ’ replied the wit¬ ness. “With a moan of anguish Mary Pe¬ terkin fainted. The prisoner started forward and, despite the efforts of tho bailiffs to restrain him, exclaimed: “ ‘This is a shame. I am guilty, and that man’—pointing his finger at Law¬ Horace Dash—‘knows that I ’ yer am. “‘What does this mean? 1 asked Judge Blank, addressing the prisoner’s counsel, who was leaning on tho table and seemed about to faint. “ ’I don’t know, your honor,’ replied tho luwyer, who waa seen to press his band to his heart. “‘Let the trial proceed,’ said Judge Blank, ‘and don’t let that woman,’ in- dieating Maty Peterkin. ‘leave this ’ room. „ lD1 Stop! exc.aimed , . , the ,, prisoner. . ,, 1 withdniv/ iny of cot guilty. I aB) gui! ,,“ tor a moment silence oppressive 9 ‘ lcnce ‘ l '« gue d Fiual ‘y the J nd .f sald - ‘ T Do J 011 appreciate your positioa-that I T can pass sentence of deatb y on * ‘ 1 do -, , rp f ,ed tba prisoner, . with a - d f ant look afc his counsel, ‘but I would hke to say 0 few words. Proceed, sro, said Judge Blank, “ ‘ J committed ihe crime, your hon¬ or - but cot from desire for gain. It was done 111 a moment of anger, just anger, aud ^ or ^ be take u, y dear old mother. tears ago my moth-m, so that she might P a 7 some i.ehts I contracted while in college, mortgaged her farm the home wbere fcbe Vi,as born, the home that she w cnt to as a happy wife, the home where I was born—to old Peterkin. Facb 7°^ since then she paid to him usurious interest. Finally there came a da y whel > ht! would llot renew the “*°rt- S a K e - dhat was the day I killed him. I pl«a<lecl with him, but in vain. He in- 81stcd lie would foreclose the mortgage, caded w 7 mother a vile name. 1 saw * be revolver on his desk, picked it U P HBd aimed at him. He wheeled aronnd in his chair toward his desk, and the bullet entered liis back. “While he was telling this story the P risoner severs! times pressed his hand t° b ' a left side and moaned as if in pain, ** ‘Have you anything else to eay? as ^ e( ^ Judge Blank, “ ‘Yes; I want to suy, explained the prisoner in gasping tones, ‘that after ] bad retaineJ that lawyer pointing to Horace Dasu ‘I told him I was guilty; Hmt I wanted to plead guilty. He for- bade m 7 doing so. Said it was a gplen- d j d case - He would acquit me and cover himself with glory. He said he would af,k 110 fee -. 1 nr S ed tb at I was guilty, bu *- be said he could clear me. Icon- s en t«d to the plea of not guilty.’ “Again the prisoner placed his hand to bis heart and with an effort said: H could not save my life ut the expense an innocent person, and that person 8 woman. I am guilty, “He « a nk back iuto a chair, and Jndge Blank turned to Horace Dash, Hm prisoner s counsel, and asked: ‘What have you to - say ior your- self?’ “ ‘I did my dnty—my plain duty, said the lawyer. ‘Aslunderstandit.it is « lawyer’s duty to defend bis client and to acquit him ns best he can’— “ ‘Not at the expense of an innocent person. 1 remarked Judge Blank. “ ‘I maintain it is,’ replied tbo law- y er - ‘Although a prisoner may con- He f <;6s guilt, ho may be innocent. might be insans when he confessed. He might be actuated by a desire to save at the expense of bi3 life a guilty per¬ son. He might’— “ ‘I am guilty!’ shouted the pris¬ oner. ‘1 did it. I did it. I’ — “He fell backward on tlie counsel’s table, gaSped, and after a few convul¬ sive movements attempted to rise, fell back, twisted half around, and his soul passed to a higher tribunal. Judge Blank, after ascertaining that the pris- oner at the bar was dead, said, ‘I ac- cept his plea cf guilty, added; The teller of this story then “The man who so strangely passed be- foro me today was the prisoner’s law- yer. He never prospered at the bar. His career was ruined with the case which lie hoped would earn him fame.' -New York Sun. THE MODERN ENGLISHMAN. An Incident Which A|itiy Illintratci MU l)clfbi»rutciu*a». To illustrate ihe deliberitten, - of l ie modern Englishman let ins b 1| of a hat which blew off <i nnchgih 'd l-> . d on the top of tl bus crossing 111® t In idge. A stiff breeze blew np the • lines, and the hat was whirled agaii st the side of the bridge and then v.vnt spinni down the footway in tin opposite di- rection from that which ho omnibus pursued. “1 say,” said 1 mechanic, reaching over and touch,. ^ the driver on the shoulder; “me al’s Mowed off. ” The driver fidgeted a m- mint ut this sudden interruption, then cook u tight¬ er graap of the reins r.ud ; joked to the horses to quicken their-** Tlie li :t and the vehicle spun a loti,; in opposite ways. “1 say, driver, ” salt, the mechan¬ ic; “me 'tit’s Mowed off.” . The driver fidgeted again, but now hi mind grasp¬ ed the situation, though . tost unwill¬ ingly. “It 'as, ’as it?” he said, tnrning to the man. “Well, then. Tint’ll teach yon to liny 'nts to fit vo> ead. I 'ad n ’ole lot of hits blow ud- t* ore I made up me mind to get ’< ui lit me Ned. After (hat I 'ad no more lioublo.” The hut was still bowlinj along and was now at the farther ud of the bridge. The meehuuic« £ lied at it dully. I was in a fever gratuitous impatience for the I us to stop or for the man to climb down. The driver turned back to his work an 1 clucked to liis horses, who qnivkmed their the (light gait. Just then a vagrant stopped, of the hat and run and caught tho bns and got a penny for his pains. So every oue was happy, even I.—Julian Ralph in Harper’s Magazine. Pajn’n Fearful Wrl iAg. James Payn’s chirography is some¬ thing fearful to contemplate. It is sim¬ ply execrable. The Aendemj tells a nice story about Payn’s "bewilih ring hand¬ writing.' Miss Jane Burlaw sent a poem as a first contribution to The Cornhiil when Payn was its editor. Think of the lady receiving a brief lira which she interpreted as follows: “I have no use for silly veises. Of course Miss Barlow indulged in copious tears. There never was such an ill mannered snub. Then sho com¬ menced to study the scrawl. Now came a gleam of light, for sho dimly made out what it really was. “I h pe to use pretty verses. ” your Alas, when yon are, as a poet, “de¬ clined with thanks,” there is today no possibility of error, for the fatal missive is always typewritten. Femiuine FeatuxveV “While woman may have, face 01 the dollar, said tl.” ’ ilo-’o < pher. looklnjr trinigui i ,,u 1 * “yet, to tell the truth, she r i. pt to have her eye on the 38 c la- dianapolis Journal. 0 The depth of water affects the speed of steamers very considerably, the ves¬ sels moving more slowly in shalli w than in deep water. About one German woman in evtiy 27 works in a factory. llcn.jiy Is lllooil Deep. C!ci\n 1 i j(,1 aeiios a clean skin, r' beauty without it. (.'u^curcU, keep Candy. eleen, O.th tic clean is;*; jour blood and it hy stirring t he lazy liver and driving all im¬ purities Lf.niah from tbe body. Begin today lo pimples, boi.'.s, blotches, blackheads, Cascarets,—beauty and that sickly bilious complexion by taking for ten cents. All drug¬ gists, satisfaction guaranteed, }0c, 25c,50c. THE MOON AND THE PINES. Oh, vwoet is the hush in the pine tree boughs, And sweet la tho breath of tho night. When the earth quiet lies And tho grass waves and sighs, We are waiting tlie beautiful moon! Oh, low moana tlie dove in the pine tree boughs, And low moans his mate* on her nast While the wdnd whispers low And tho soft waters flow In the sheen of the pule, tender moon. Oh, clear shines the light on the pine ti o« boughs! Oh, clear shines tile light of the moonf When the clouds softly lie On tho bright eastern shy, They are bathed in the gleam of the moon. Oh, dark wave the tops of the, pine, tree boughs* Oh, dark wave fheir tops 'kv fpt the aky! While the earth and the sky And the Boft waters lie ;■ In the light of the beautiful moon. E. Harrison in Ladi«y»’tTome Journal 71 I lEMSIONf SCUTS ! * U S is. a food medicine for .he § baby that is thin and not * H well nourished and for he ^ cj mother wliose milk does H ¥ not nourish the baby, ut j w It is equally rood for the : M boy or gir! who is thin ;.r d .* pale and not well nourished h ¥ by their food; also for ti e ' * anaemic cr consumptive •!£ that is iosin^ flesh ' ¥ | adult and strengtii. all conditions ¥ ¥ In fact, for |[ of medicine vjastin^, that it will is the nourish feed \\ ¥ 2 and build up t]ie body £rd • ' ¥ give new life and energy |[ when aii ether means fall. I Should U tub "H If rt amer as @ r ■cil 3 winter. - »r ■■5 git druggists. if S SCOTT n BC -nwr.su, MW rt, ■' 1 A RICKSHAW HIDE. The , lampllt veranda ... of a large , hungit- low out sill o l’em.ng. Between two palms In dragon jars nt the top of the vcramla steps stands a pretty girl in a pink ball gown holding n fan and gloves in her hands. Sho looks anxiously round, Thoro ts no one to bo seen but a Cl.lncfe boy standing at a respectful distance in tbo background. Tbo LJirl—They surely can’t have gono Without mo? I ought to have como down a little sooner 1 overdid it, pooso that I am! However, I'vo a routed being paired off fora throe mile drive in a rickshaw wdim man In a state of wrath because I wasn't somebody else (A pause.) What If 1 don’t go to this hateful danco after all? Thev’il all snv afterward that I shirked It, 1 suppose—shirked seeing him with her. Oh, ho, thnt wouldn't do—I'll show them! (Sho snatches a thin silk wrap off a chair, twists It hurriedly round her she aiders and calls to tho servant.) Bov, Buna Kreta-Hongkong! (Ho comes forward and shouts. A sour- ry of wheels Is hoard, and two spots of light appear in tho darkness of the garden and grow rapidly the.,,',solves larger and larger till they resolve into tho lamps of a somewhat decrepit looking rickshaw. Tho girl prepuroB to got In, but suddenly finds sho has forgotten her hnndkorchlef, and goes Indoors to fetch It. While she Is away a young man in evening dress comes out and looks cautiously about him.) Tho Young Man (ph.t. S ly)-Thank the Lord! They've gone! Ha, ha! you’ve es- ouped that rather neatly, my boy! loan see It all. “Mr. Davenport, you’ll escort Miss Novlllo of course.” Chuckle headed Idiots people aro. "Oh, delighted—yes!” and then snub, snnb, snub, for three solid everlasting miles! Not much! If sho thinks I’m going to oomneto with a little cod like Raymond! (Shrugs his shoulders and tries to look jaunty.) Well, here’s my rickshaw, I suiiposo. Oh, tills confounded danco! [Ho sees the girl coming out of the house. She stops abruptly and stares nt j, lui \ She—Is It—It Is Mr. Davenport? Ho (nervously) — Y-yes — nt least—I mean-1 am afraid I’m a bit late. The- the others seem to have gono, don’t they? Sho i frigidly)-Yes. Would you kindly call me another rickshaw? IIo—Certainly. (To himself.) This snub’s in private, at any rate. [He interviews tbo boy, and then turns to her with u ilismayod countenance. ] Ho—I’m awfully rorry. Miss Neville, but tliero’s not another rickshaw to be had anvwhero. They’vo only left this one behind for-for us both. Sho (blankly)—Oil! IIo [An cmliarrassiiig pause. glowers darkly nt tho unoffending cooly, and sho becomes absorbed in a refractory glove bntton I He (w ith an cfforU-Er-er-knowing what your feelings are, Miss Neville, I ear.—riv jjjgger.t that I remain bore, and * Jcdiie So riel show to yourself, I have to to thiswffalr, I - sure you. When ./t, Sc's\i ,* ust L ' ^ ’■ f,<bvt)ocr;tol fo knows to "get to that Sym.es girl! ButTWlv be so mean as to tuke him at bis word, badly as he has behaved. (To him.) Cortainly not, Mr. Di venport. I wouldn’t think cf In- terfering w Ith ponplo’samusoment In such a way. I will stay here—I’ve got a head- j ache—and you must take tho rickshaw. Ho—How could I go and tell your cous- In I’d left you here? Impossible! As I t said before, I will gladly— She (sharply)—No, you won’t. (To her- ) ! self.) That girl shan’t say I kept him away from her (To him) Wo must just make tho host of an unfortunate occur¬ rence, and both go. Pleaso don’t argue [ about it—it only makes U—I mean jay , cou.-in will get anxious if wo'ro so long coming. [Sho gets into tho rickshaw and ho fol¬ lows. The cooly raises his shafts and starts his load down tho drive aud Into a narrow roail last)—Er—it’s ut a smart trot. ] IIo (at a dark night, isn't it? Sho—Very. (A pause.) He (desperately)—After all, it's only three miles, anil this seems to bo a fairly good cooly, doesn't lie? She—Yes. (Another pauso. Her social Instincts getting tho hotter of her.) I—I wonder If you will ho very gay In Selan¬ gor? They say there’s a food deal going on there, and you'll be just In time for the races. * Ho—I believe so, hut I am not going In for that sort of thing. I moan to got some shooting if I’ve any time to spare- tigers, if possible. I hear it’s pretty fever¬ ish where I am going, but there’s lots of big game, and after all that’s all I need caro about. She (vaguoly)—Y—yes— I suppose—for a man. (Tohorself.) That doesn’t sound very nice for Miss Symcs, somehow! How funny of him! What can he bethinking of? This thing jolts a great doal. I—I hope It’s quite sufet Ho—Oh, yes I It’s all right, I think only it’s a ghastly old machine, and tho springs are pretty well worn out. [A long silence, broken only by the croak[iyu>f Innumerable frogs, A blaoker isa^Ku.,.. oFe* no..<l shows tjiac they are passing through a plantation with trees, that arch across the road. Fireflies make zigzags of flickering green blue light, some late and dissipated cicadas sing a shrill accompaniment to tho patter of the cooly’s feet. Tho air smolls moist and wann.j Sho themselves)-This Ho anil (to is getting awful. (Aloud.) It’s a hot ulght, Isn’t It? (Mutual confusion.) Ho (with a nervous laugh)—That’s ono subject wo don’t disagree on, at any rate, Shc (with cold politeness)—Indeed 1 I was not aware that wo disagreed to any extent that need disturb us. lle (warming up)—No! Perhaps you are right. You haven't given me many chances of doing so lately. She (catching fire)—I certainly prefer giving itr chances, as you call them, to people about whoso disagreeing there !e aonio shadow of doubt. no (involuntarily)—Raymond, for ln- stanco? [Dead silence.) She (tohorself)—The I dog In positive. the manger No was a man—of thut nin dog would do such a thing ns completely throw over a girl for another and thon snarl because tho first girl speaks once or twice to another ma—dog! [She perceives her simile Is becoming rather mixed, and laughs In spite of her¬ self.) He—You seem amusod, Miss Neville. She (mendaciously)—I was just think- ing. Suppose every one has filled up their programmes? Ho (tohimself)—As if she hadn’t prom- ised that little cad! (Aloud, meaningly.) I fancy there is no great danger of that. She (to herself)—Of Course. I wonder how many sho is keeping for him? In bltiu, led—luo only iijiu„ tlj use straw col¬ ored girls look well lnl Oh, If I'm oot very oiireful I .hull n«y something--silly, l ki)(uj t ogam , tin., « Clio only Way. 1 Silence again. Eventually tlioy turn ■ oornor and cunin out oil tl.o highroad.] He—Wo shall aoon bo there no.v. Sho (with an almost 1 muiliblo slgli)— Yes. [He Interprets tho sigh ns one of relief, an< * relapses promptly Into dignified si¬ ,ou '?°- Ihe pace becomes more a.x-1 move “ d th ° r, ° k8l ' aW } ° Ua from 8ido to llo—Inm very sorry to bump against y 0 u so, but_ Sho (growing nervous)—Oh—oh, never mtndl Don’t you think wo are going too fast? P lensu toll him not to—(agitated)— °h,ploaac--I don’t like It! (Ho shouts a the oooly, who shouts back in,unlntel giblo Cb'nose.l Hc-I-I can t quite make out what ho says, Miss Novlllo, but I’m afraid he onn’l slower. I ho rickshaw s got a bit too much for )Im. . [Then a part oAtho darkness suddenly becomes u solid and heaves up, and hits tho rickshaw full on tbo side. Presently tho f irl ®‘ t8 ®»*, ln tbo ,ulddle °* * b " r ° ad a J ld look«rou» .T NearheTatthe foot of a >° w wa "’ re ™ aln ?, of 8b»w-ono lamp 1. smashed thootberstm burns dimly, and she secs lying in the a vague dark heap. She looks at this for a moment, then suddenly rises and goes quickly to it. fe ho (with a frightened cry) Oh, Mr. Davenport-Waiter! Dari ng-don t look * lnt ob, don t, don tl (lotho oooly) -»*» J uS ° k »nd fetch some one! Gel water I And we’ve done nothing but quar- relcver since yesterday morning. My faU ' t ’ "" U ‘ y fallltI H ,°' v ? , ) U1 n ?'' or ha Y a aoti f d ‘ h »‘» , I hadn’t- , Oh my dear! My denrl Oh, wako! Come back! 1 Icu l will )^ b ® bursts Into tears, j ho man comes to and opens h s astonished eyes in the Pltohy darkness ] Whattbedev- „,?* Where e anil? b Why, this can t be It is though Crying, upon my soul! she (subb.ng)—Ohl Will he no will, one anil over I °°mo? lie will dio, I know can do nothing for him nothing! Ho—Marlon! Then d you moan to say Y ou <j° n ’ t oar ® (oT that mtl ° bruto monil after nil f Sho-Ob how you frighten .... mol (Cries , , more than before.) Hepeerlngoagorly Into her fiico through ‘ ha dark)--Don’t cry Tell me Let me hoar you say you don’t care for that little brute-you didn’t want his beastly ban- 8 1 * “ a " !ld * 7°“ * ake “■ ® ba (so.ibing) I th--throw It away d-dRectly after. Oh oh Walter! I-I- thought you were d dead! Ho (vigorously)-Darllng! ‘ Sbo (proHently)-Then jou’ro really not . Ho (beainlng) Not a bit. Arn you? . ^ho (oHssfully) Oh, no I Only my book’s all over lamp oil and dust I can’t go to the danco, that s cenaln f But (mis- oblevously) you might go and-and sit out, you know, with MEs hynics. He (laughing) What! ihat girl? ^ Oh, you ridloulous— She (magnanimously) lad I call born von-mcQ srtrl ISk-ar *' UhuAuousfy/- PuT oonso, ° Haytuond, poor little folrtw! Ho ~ho's not lmlf a bao Uttlo chap, I think, (They laugh.) Ho (suddenly)—Ey Jcve, hero’s that ‘°°* °‘ n 00 °'y con jug mok. Cot np, <lonr, Ho ’ h K ot tWo nvvs with him, and your cousin, end, cli, confound the follow! Whtit need ho have been in such an aw *'o hurry for? She—Yes! Rushing bonk like that, the ®f u Phl idiot!—St. Paul’s, - - ..... — WITH THE COWBOYS. HOW WESTER!! RANCHMEN CELE- BRATE THE NEW YEAR. Tlie G»y Famlunso of tlie PlnJiia, IlantlnR the Wild Turkey — Other JollificotiouM That Brighten Prai¬ rie Idle at New Year's. Along with the round ups, barbecues and log rai.Jngs tho festivities of the New Year’s holiday season como with well timed regularity to break tho monotony of the cowboy’s prosaic life. In the ranging country of tho northwest, where the entire possessions of the average ranchman con¬ sist of a few hundred cattle, half a dozen ponies and a rudedugout or “shack,” fur¬ nished with the bare necessities, and where there are only a few cowboys to do the whole work of the ranch, the only as¬ sured diversion of the yo.ir Is tho June round up. Unless tho cowboy goes Into a frontier town to tuke in a barnstorming performance or a “show” given by a trav¬ eling prestidigitator he has absolutely no outside diversion. But In tho older ranching territories of tbo southwest, where stock raising has settled down Into a safe and remunerative business, and tho precarious livelihood and pioneer simplicity have given way to an assured Income with comfort and plen¬ ty, the holiday jollification has como to be an established custom. It is a pleasant break to tho winter spent hi “riding lines” ovor the country orpoker and cutthroat euchro indoors. | A few days before Now Year’s prapara- t,ons HTO begun for tho big danco v, hlch inaugurates tbo season's festivities. The ranch where tho hall or “fandango” Is to ho held Is literally given over to the boys f °r tbo occasion, and they never fall to make the most of It Invitations are sent out over tbo neighborhood within a radius of 20 miles, and nearly every one Is accept- ed > for a li<io of 20 ,nllc » to one aocus- tomed to spending 10 or l 1 hours a day in the saddle Is a more nothing. Besides this is tho on? opportunity of the year to spend money iavlshly for the sake of u good time. An extra oook or two are hired and supplier enough luid In to food a small army It is the privilege of evory cowboy on tho place to mako out a Ilst of tho eatables that ho feels that his constitution demands. A nil several days beforehand the groat wagon is hitched up and a trip taken to the nearest town to get provisions. A more heterogeneous mixture of edibles can scarcely be imagined—raisins, nuts, candies, canuod meats aim fruitv, pickles, crackers, anything kept and recommend¬ ed by the obliging a; <1 neighborly grocery man. In addl . on to tbo ctoro i ought delicacies for the feast the ranch cock distinguishes himself in tho way of horbeouc.d shotos, game, “posfum ami tutors, ” pies and cokes and the like For a week or two bofore the least nil hands loud their aid to the capturingof game and the finding and saving of eggs. As for ihe fandango, the preparations are f «w aE<l simple. Beds and other space consuming pieces of furniture are removed from tho rooms intended for the dance. Tbo bare floors .are sand scoured and No. 3. (leaked with ilia liili simvlugi of sperm oaniUes, which foon, under tho many glid¬ ing foot of tbn dancoi s, form a thin, slink coating, delightful and seductive to the feet On two sides of the room, close up against the wi.il, a r< ,v of chairs is sot for tho accommodation of thoso not dancing. By 6 o'cli ck In tho evening tho guests begin to arrive, the bi ys having gone after the girls on borsohack generally, some of tho “tony” octiploa oming In buggies, tho high aor.te l ” piano boxed” vehicles of tho west, with tholi double teams and general air of smartness. Tho girls haro their party dresses tucked up under their black calico riding skirts, some of them bringing waists, gloves and wlilto kill slippers, done up in a bundle to bo put on after they arrive. And a merry hearted, me: ry faced set they aro, oheeks glowing and eyes sparkling from the ex¬ hilaration of tho ride in the wind and the exportation of the unwontod frollo, fiddlers, Tho ni usln is furnished by ue*rro whose repertory of old fashioned “break¬ downs” Is never improved upon, nor ever falls short of Its early charm and Infection upon Its hearers. In tho same “set” there may be one muii with a “ store’' suit on and another In Ids rogulnr suit, consisting of blue Uannel ovorshlrt anil leather belt, buckskin leg¬ gings or cottonade overalls. Tho boys laugh loud, clap each other, hang their “guns” on the wall while they are dancing and steal behind the bouse for tliolr drink between sets, but they treat tbo girls like queens. No matter how rough their clothes, they generally have white hands and smnll, well clad feet. They will wear boots, but they have them mado with high hocls, of fine leather, pointed toes and often red tops. They revol in ilnnolng. They are grace¬ ful, natural, muscular and active. Danc¬ ing to thorn Is horseback riding In good company, under sholtor, and to the tuna of a fiddle. It gives free play to their untir¬ ing, restless bodies unil at the same time satisfies and delights their love of women's society and good fellowship. Thoso holiday dances last all night, their only breakf.ist lining nt 10 o’clock, when eggnog Is served, and at 12, when tbo big supper is eaten. Then with renewed vigor and spirits they return to tho floor, Tlw liras burn low in the great chimneys, the kerosene lamps flicker and smoke, the fid¬ dlers doe and play on meohanloally, the girls languish, and even the oowboy 1dm- sclf feels tho force and strain of protraoted, time measured motion. But the danoo goes on. Not until the dull red glow of sunrise oreeps over tho dun prairies does tbe music stop. Then after u breakfast of “cold bits’ 1 and strong, hot black coffeo the girls go to rooms prepi.rod for them at tho ranch, or, mounted on fleet footed bronohos, go galloping over tho prairies, the fresh wUd wind in their tacos am) the thrilling mem¬ ory of sweet words or sweeter promises In their wholesome, simple hearts.—New York Herald. Lts’st ISEASES ni» a - •* -« ^ |> t nsumptionisern- - j i 3 J I'M t to. rh of the lungs. 55 ■f\) Certain complica- tiojis make consump- v/ ., ** 1 K /Ion incurable. cases of ) death from con- 4ffih*as£mt<m; : zz3t j sumption *»«• i '’J&m the di^-t result Pe-ru-na works ionsly with nature to eject the tubercles from tha lungs, and works so successfully that if tiiero is » cure for consumption Pe-ru-na is the remedy. Read this letter from Mrs. H. A. Tyner, of Four Oaks, N. C., about her daughter, Mrs. L. Keene. She says: Pe-ru-na Medicine Co., Columbus, O. DicAit Sms:—“My daughter had every symptom of consumption—suppression of menscb, night sweats and great ema¬ ciation. She was so low that none of our neighbors thought she could live. In May Mr. C. K. Adams, of this place, who had taken Pe-ru-na, told mo if anything would help her Pe-ru-na would, I got a bottle of it and some rock eundy and b"gan giving it to her. During the first few days she was so weak she could only take a half tea- spoonful at a time, hut I gave it to her as often os she could bear it. In less than a week she could walk two hundred yards anil back without rest¬ ing; she kept getting stronger, and ia twelve months sho seemed to be as wo). 1 , assheeverwasinlicrlife. I feel, and so does every one that knew about her sickness, that l’e-ru-na saved her life. My daughter’s name is Mrs. L. Kceae.’’ Ask any druggist for a free Pe- ru-na Almanac for the year 1899. Prulr Ifenr Flesh. “An Italian prelate who believes himself a master of the English lan- gnago,” says a correspondentof an Eng- , igh * - „ wag whi]e an hoDCIed (■" f„ monB ^ cnllesa 8 ® asked ** to . at tbo , bigb ... ® a J“ „ °° Sunday, tils discourse was diversified by neolo- gums that kept our attention alive, if they sometimes disordered our gravity, which finally collapsed under the propo- nitiou: " ‘There arc, ruy brethren, three ene- , a „ ain6( . whom all ODr i onB b ?? d t,. _the devil the world and , (for , a moment he pondered oarne) ‘tbo meat, I 11 WHOOPING digressing sights is Ono of the ni isfc the to nee a child almot choking with dreadful whooping-cough. Givo the child Dr. J oh a W. B.til’s Congh and Syrup, tho relief will be obtained at one© sufferer will soon bo cured. Br.'ulrs tr COUCH SYRUP Cures Whooping-Cough quickly. Doses are small and pleasant to take. Doctor* recommend it. Price 25 cts. At all uruffKifti* f