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THE DAYS OF LONG ACO.
In pensive mood I often sit through evening hours aglow
And think of all the happy days that passed dreamsjof in years ago;
I love in fancy to recall those joyous and live them yore, o’er ando er.
To visit past remembered scenes roll
My eyes are growing dimmer with the years that away,
My step is slow and feeble, and my locks, alas! are gray;
Yet when in pensiveness I sit I feel again the glow
Of youth that thrilled my happy heart in days of long ago.
In days of long ago, alas! how joyous was my lot,
Those dear old scenes and happy dreams shall never be forgot;
The world was (Hied with music and with blossoms ever fair,
Anil beamed a loving welcome ever courteous and rare.
A happy song of cheer rang forth from every leafy tree,
Tjii every mountain, every dell, was echoing with glee;
One blest sweet melody divine charmed all this earth below
And rose afar to skies above in days of long ago.
The days of long ago—alasj how distant now they seem,
The past is hut a memory, a dear, remembered dream;
The future brings us palsied age and many bitter tears,
All hopes and joys have long since passed through dim, receding years.
And yet it does a mortal good to muse o’er youthful days,
To tread in fancy once again life’s unforgotton ways;
And that is why I often sit through evening hours aglow
And dream again of happy days—the days of long ago! Eock Gazette.
—Sidney Warren Mase, in Little
£ THE HONORABLE ANNE.* -K
I $ By EDITH ALLANDALE, <s>
7*\
M
Mil II come came, GING’S a when bride, wel¬ to I
the ranch was
1 //.A not the warmest.
‘&M- m ,« him wa , into throwing pictur¬
esque relief, he
stood on the
ranch-house ver¬
anda, his face full of suppressed ex¬
citement.
“You telle me,” he muttered, “who
boss, now Mr. Allandale get mallied?”
“All same as before/’ was my ready
rejoinder.
The crafty features relaxed, and Ah
Ging disappeared kitchenward, his
pig-tail having struck the dominant
note in my first impressions of Va
quero Water.
Cedric smiled at me approvingly.
“Glad you were so diplomatic, else
he’d have left by the morning stage.
It’s awfully unromantic, darling, but
the drive has made me beastly hun¬
gry. Let’s see what the old chap has
for us.”
We dined in a long, low room, hung
with spurs and sporting prints, sou¬
venirs of English days, the happiest
couple in California.
In its lack of excitement, ranch life
proved disappointing. Lynchings
were unknown—bandits and despera¬
does conspicuous by their absence.
So life flowed on, smoothly, monot¬
onously, till after the birth of Billi
kius. Ah Ging then announced his de¬
parture. “Better girl cook,” he de¬
clared. “No likee baby. Heap tlouble.
Allee time cly.”
The next Celestial left after a hasty
glance at the kitchen wall. “Meflaid,”
he explained, pointing to a red hiero¬
glyphic unfortunately unnoticed by
us. “Ah Ging ho write, ‘Debbil in
this house. y iy
“He moant the baby,” suggested
Cedric.
“He say debbil. Me go. No China
boy stay here. Heap scared of deb¬
bil.”
“Try a girl,’’implored Cedric. “It’s
no joke driving ten miles a day to the
station.”
We tried, in turn: Gretchen, who
left within the week to “learn relig¬
ion;” Bridget, who declined working
under an Englishman; the widow,
whoso tears, as she recounted her
woes, sizzled over the stove; Dieie,
who disliked low wages, though she
found no fault with me, and Saman¬
tha, who objected to the lack of
“scenery.” Useless to point out the
Brush Hills’ mellow charm, distant
mountains, oak-dotted meadows, Sa¬
mantha remained obdurate. “It may
*vut you, Mrs. Allandale,” she con¬
tinued, pityingly, “to see nothing but
land. I like it like it was in Tulare.
There you kin see houses thick as
peas in a pod au’ people passin’ all
day. That’s the scenery for me, so I
guess I’ll pack my freight.”
Which she proceeded to do, and
had barely driven out of sight when
a young girl, tall, slim and neatly
dressed, stepped on the veranda.
“If yon please, ma’am,” she quiet¬
ly said, “I heard that you wanted a
girl; can I have the place?”
I heard her history, which was
simple. The previous year she had
come from England to join her broth¬
er on a claim, had fallen ill, had gone
to the county hospital at La Huerta,
had come thence to me. While hear¬
ing these details, Cedric returned.
But one conclusion could be drawn
from his utter dejection. “No girl,”
was stamped on every feature. Sa¬
mantha had recommended me to
Odessa Green, who, less exacting in
regard to scenery, was willing to leave
the family pig-pen for a month’s
change, provided the washing was put
out, Mrs. Allandale helped with the
dishes, the afternoons were free, and
a horse every Sunday was at her dis¬
posal. I knew the type, ignorant,
slatternly, familiar. Contrasting with
it the new-comer, my resolution was
taken. “No, Cedric, I have a servant
already.”
“Where did she come from?”
“La Huerta, where she has been in
the hospital.”
“Is she pretty?”
“That’s an irrelevant question. Yes,
rather—blue eyes and short, curly,
yellow hair.” her.”
“You know nothing about
“But I know that Billikins has the
whooping-cough. I must nurse him,
and you can not cook. Help is needed,
and behold Anne. ”
“So that’s her name?”
“Yes, Anne James.”
He still demurred.
“Prudence is an admirable virtue,
Cedric, but you carry it to au ex¬
treme.”
Cedric yielded, still holding to his
own opinion. “Keep her! Keep
her!” he cried; “but remember, if
anything happens, be it on your head.”
Since the days of Ah Ging, life had
not been worth living. Annie came,
and comfort followed after. Capable,
retiring, a vague sense of mystery
pervading her, she proved in our
monotonous existence a source of in¬
exhaustible interest.
“I scent a romance?” Cedric de¬
clared; “when Anno draw-s near, find
find out about her.”
“She is so reticent—a contrast to
Samantha. ”
“Teach her something. Learning
unlocks a woman’s tongue.”
So Anne was instructed in more
housewifely mysteries, and grew more
communicative. But Cedric received
all details of her past with scornful in¬
credulity. “Papa” was a barrister.
Anne herself had been born in the
sacred precincts of the Temple. Their
crest figured as a dove. “Fancy one’s
parlor-maid having a crest,” he ejacu¬
lated. For a briefless barrister he had
done singularly well, marrying a niece
of the celebrated Countess of Melligan.
Many a torrid afternoon was whiled
away with descriptions of the Irish
castle where the wedding took place,
the beauty of the bride, the eccentrici¬
ties of the noble aunt. Cedric scoffed,
still crying for more.
Ojie languorous September day, en¬
sconced in the veranda’s shadiest nook,
we gazed on the Brush Hills and
sighed vainly for a breeze. Cedric
broke the stillness. ‘"What about
Anne? No news of late?”
“She has a sister who lives in
France and is possessed of independ¬
ent means.”
A look of reproach shot from his
dark-blue eye. “You told me that last
week,” he murmured.
“And did not tell you that she goes
by the name of the Lady Emily
Brown.”
< < Brown! Why, she married a
Frenchman,”
“True.”
“Why lady? What title has he?”
“None. I particularly asked Anne.”
“Absurd! He could not be ‘Brown’
or she ‘lady,’ unless, indeed, the title
is in hew own right. In that case your
pearl of a handmaiden is au ‘honor¬
able!’ The Honorable Anne brings
out the tray,” he added, as she ap¬
proached our corner, “No, it’s all
false, you may depend upon it. Ask
McPherson what he thinks; he is com¬
ing up the drive.”
Fergus McPherson—caution person¬
ified—opined that Annie had lied. He
put it plainly: “Deceitful in speech,
deceitful in deed. Better watch her,
Mrs. Allendale.”
My suspicions were not excited. In
California nothing is impossible. Had
not a scion of a lordly house died on a
neighboring ranch—a lonely, neglect¬
ed sheep herder? No. It was the
uneasy air and restless look increas¬
ing day by day. I heartily wished for
patched some pretext whereby Cedric, dis¬
into La Huerta, might inquire
into the antecedents of the Honorable
Anne. Chance favored me.
“McPherson has been telling me,”
began my spouse, a few days later,
“about some bloodhounds in town that
belong to the sheriff. They are A1 at
tracking criminals—borrow them all
over the State. Beastly shame it's
such a journey—it would be rather
jolly to see them.”
“Why not go? A change would do
you good."’
“Go! And who would milk the
cow?”
“I, myself.” Nonsense!”
“You?
“Who is the sheriff?” I idly asked,
meditating my next move the while.
“Waite—Hiram Waite.” ,
“Our Honorable,” who had entered,
bearing that ranch stand-by, a smok¬
visibly ing bowl of “mush,” started, growing
pale—fresh food for uneasiness.
Clearly, to learn the art of milking was
imperative. The woman won, as
usual, and Cedric, before the week was
over, started for La Huerta, with strict
injunctions to interview both hospital
superintendent and sheriff.
In charge of the ranch were myself,
Billikins, and the 1 Honorable Anne.
Uneventfully passed the first few days;
but on Monday, from the veranda, I
espied a band of men, who, leaving the
county road, came slowly up the
drive.
Anne, perceiving them, grew white
to the lips, and, bearing Billikins, pre¬
cipitately fled. leader began,
“Good evening,” the
as he lifted his sombrero. “We’re a
kinder rough sight for a lady. You
see, we’re a posse over from Tulare,
trying to find a man named Smith.
His tracks, -they seemed to p’int this
way. Ain’t seen any stranger round
here lately?”
“No, indeed.”
“No wood-chopper nor nothing?”
“No, none. What ha3 this man
done? What does he look like?”
“Beal nice and young and kind.
Not more’n a boy. Murdered a man
over there. Here’s his description,”
and he handed me a coarsely printed
“Reward.” Well, boys, get a move
on. We’re on our way to La Huerta,”
he added, “to borrow Waite’s dogs.
Well, good day, ma’am. Better not
harbor any strangers.”
A moment more and, left alone, I
thought over the situation. Cedric
gone, no neighbor near, and a mur¬
derer at large whose steps “p’inted
this way.” Suddenly it was borne in
upon me that Anne was the fugitive.
A firm believer in woman’s intui¬
tions, yet hoping desperately that
mine was at fault, I unfolded the
paper the sheriff gave me. It tallied
well. Moroseness, agitation, all were
explained.
Did Anne guess that her identity
was known, my life, I feared, would
pay the penalty. To ignore the situa¬
tion, live through the night if possible,
and trust to someone turning up in the
morning was all that could be done.
' Milking-time brought fresh terrors.
How guard one’s self, with both hands
engaged letting down floods of warm,
innocent milk? Dinner was eaten
hurriedly, with the same feeling of
uneasiness, Billikins tucked in his
crib, Anne retired early, and, every
sense on the alert, I was left alone to
watch the nursery door.
It fascinated me. Who would open
it? Anne, to hide among the canons
till the posse had returned to its Tulare
home? Or Henry Smith, to make an
end of me and flee? Truly, the ranch
monotony vvas broken at last, Sol
emnly the clock ticked, slowly the
hands went round, an hour passed. A
movement in the adjoining room, and
literally my blood ran cold. That had
hitherto seemed a mere figure of
speech. The sound ceased, and still I
watched the nursery door. At last,
when my brain would have turned
with more, I heard a sound which,
faint at first, grew louder and louder.
“Oh, heaven,” I cried, “the blood¬
hounds!” and fell senseless to the
ground.
Slowly returned to consciousness,
my gaze fell on Cedric, the La Huerta
sheriff, and Anne—Anne anxiously ap¬
plying restoratives!
“Take him away,” I gasped; he will
murder us.”
“You are raving!” cried Cedric;
“that is Anne.”
“No; Smith, the murderer, The
blood-hounds tracked him to the very
door.”
Here Hiram Waite thought fit to
interpose.
“Guess I can straighten out this
kink, Mrs. Allandale. You did hear
the hounds, they’re up at the barn
now. Your husband, he heard at La
Huerta we was beatin’ up this part of
the country, so he lit out for home,
thinkin’you’d be scared. We caught
our man hidin’ by the ’Dobe Hill, and
the Tulare boys took him back to
town. Your husband and me was
tired, so we made tracks for here.
Sorry ’bout the dogs. Might ha’
known they’d scare you.”
The Honorable Anne next day gave
warning. ‘ ‘If you please, ma’am, you
and Mr. Allandale have been very
kind, and I love Mr. Billikins like my
own, but I can’t stay where I’ve been
so misjudged.” your'part would
“More candor on
have prevented your being mis¬
judged. ”
She blushed. “1 often wanted to
tell you, ma’am—what I first said
wasn't true. I came from England
when I was a baby. I haven’t any
brother, and, I never went to La
Huerta.”
“Ah!”
“The kinder you was, ma’am, the
meaner I felt; and I was afraid Mr.
Allandale would go to the hospital;
and, worst of all, mv heart stood still
___^ ___________^ ________
when he spoke of Mr. Waite, For he
and my stepfather are cousins, and I
was afraid he would guess who I
was.”
“Your stepfather?”
“Yes, ma’am, mother married Jim
Waite the second time, and it was
him that came with the posse and
frightened me. He was such a bad.
cruel man that I couldn’t stand it, so I
ran away.”
“How did you happen to reach
Yaquero Water?”
“With some friends in one of those
big wagons they call ‘prairie schoon¬
ers.’ Tulare folks go to the coast
every year; but they don’t dare go
there straight, it’s too much change.
They always stop at the Iron Spring to
cool off first. ”
To cool off at ninety in the shade!
‘ ‘Soon as we came to the spring, I
heard aboutj^ou, and thought I’d try
for the place.”
“But how much better to have told
me the truth.”
“I knew Mr. Allandale was English,
ma’am, and they are that particular I
was afraid he’d send me home.”
Surely the story of Lady Emily
Brown was unnecessary.”
Anne’s eyes flashed. “It’s every
word true, ma’am. Not that I ever
saw her; she was by father’s first mar¬
riage; but it’s true. Why, they lived
in a beautiful house in St. John’s
Wood, and the night before they went
to Paris the Prince of Wales dined
with them. ”
“And do you believe it, my dear?”
asked Cedric on hearing the last ver¬
sion.
“She believes in the family tradi¬
tions. But she will care less about
such nonsense when she is Mrs. Hiram
Waite.”
“Why, she met the man only last
night.”
“Something will come of it, trust a
woman’s intuition.”
“Thanks, no!” he retorted, with a
cheerful grin. “No telling into what
mare’s nest I might be led. Never
mind, darling, you did your best. We
can’t all be born detectives.”
Cedric to the contrary, my prophecy
came to pass, and our Honorable Anne
was transformed into Mrs. Hiram
Waite. At last accounts she was well
and happy, supplying the boarders “four-bits at
Wait’s Hotel with meals at
ahead.” While we on the ranch are
still wondering whether the Countess
of Melligan and the Lady Emily Brown
are myths.—The Argonaut.
SCIENTIFIC AND IN DUSTRIAL
Jamaica is pointed out as the land of
ferns, its species numbering between
400 and 500.
It has been estimated that an oak of
average size, during the five months it
is in leaf every year, sucks from the
earth about 123 tons of water.
The iridescence of the soap bubble
arises from the fact that the bubble,
being thin, reflects light from both the
outer and inner surfaces of the film.
An important discovery by M. Pfister,
an Austrian engineer, is that sea-water
may be freed from salt and rendered
potable by forcing through a tree
trunk.
Pictet’s discovery that liquors may
be artificially aged by cold is about to
be applied commercially in a proposed
frigorific laboratory in Paris. The
liquor is gradually cooled in 200 de¬
grees C below zero, then gradually
brought again to the ordinary tempera¬
ture.
St. Etienne, near Lyons, France,
has apparently solved the problem of
distributing electrical’ energy cheaply
in private houses over a wide district.
Two dollars a month is the charge for
sufficient power to drive a loom, the
service extending as far as thirty miles
from the central station.
Results of a German inquiry prove
that overhead wires tend to reduce the
violence of thunderstorms and lessen
the danger from lightning. Oases of
damage from lightning were about five
times as numerous in places without
telephone systems as in those having
them.
Since Homer’s time vast falls of or¬
ganic particles, as well as of; meteoric
dust, have been known at various times
and places. Dr. T. S. Blair, of Har¬
risburg, Penn., argues that the organic
matter may have largely come from
space and that showers of still-living
germs may explain the sudden appear
ance and rapid spread of many historic
epidemics.
J. L. Hebrahn, the German archaeo
logist, has just completed an explora
tion tour through the State of Chiapas,
Mexico, where he reports having found
another ancient buried city in the
depths of a tropical forest, about sixty
miles west of the Guatemalan border.
He brought away with him a number
of relics of the place, and says that he
will go to the United States and thence
to Germany, where he will organize i
an expedition for further researches in i
Chiapas. 1
The duck mole of Australia, which j
Sidney Smith declared made Sir ;
Joseph Banks miserable from his utter j
inability to decide whether it was a ;
bird or beast, is a mamraal with webbed :
feet and a duck’s bill, and is reinarka- j
ble for laying eggs like a bird or rep
tile. It 'was long thought harmless
and without defense. Dr. A. Stuart
has lately found, however, that a pow
erfnl spur of the male’s hind leg, ai*- ,
parently connected with a gland, which may j
inflict a hornet-like sting, ^
sometimes fatal to dogs.
watchwords
Whilo there’s a haad t
0 strike;
While there’s
111 * heart bra
While there’s Too
a W^ task nWrou Sbt;
* While , v ... „ there’s a God to
Learn save.
Tliat there’ 3 a work for
Feel each;
That there’ s a strength
in God
That there’s a crown
Wait rescrved -
Though ’neath the cloud and
sod
Where there’s a foethat
Help, wrongs •.
When there’s a
m When „ tnero’s a tempter
near;
Doth in thy word and deed.
HUMOR OF THE day,
“So hi son *
edvcation?’ ~ “Gre B
he’s -§
News. just out of college!”-.
“Do you think capital punish
might a remedy for crime?” j
be if persisted in for
generations. ”—Judge.
losity! . ^e “Talk There’s about woman's thing,”] id
no suok
—“No. I should say it worked
and day.’’—Detroit Journal.
because A proofreader a cowslip has by been the river’s] disci]
a simple cow’s lip was to Jour] hid
nothing more.—Somerville
sior _ A cab-owner had the door-panel] word ‘ j
painted on the
his vehicles. He explained thd
motto “My was wife “Hire. ’’—London Tit]
cleans house eight ti
year,” “Decree said granted,” the applicant said the fordi] radj
a Press. voice that shivered.— Detroit]
The Pretty Girl—“Miss Sn
was named after her Uncle Gi
wasn’t she?” The Bright On
don’t know. She looks as if sh
named before him.”— Cincinnati
mercial Tribune.
Wallace—“There is nothing
the matrimony value of to make ” a man Ferry—“j appr]
money.
so. A dollar a man gives to hi
doss look bigger to him than any
dollar. ”—Cincinnati Enquirer.
and Typewriter—“I understand business am rapid ford enj
right, spell.” but Business I must admit Man—“YonJ that I e|
do, then, even at the price. J
spell, cither.”—Indianapolis Joj
Mrs. Man ykyds—“There girls; tlia u
good thing about our Papal
always self-possessed." they d
kyds (grimly)— “Yes; wish they]
self-possessed. I
some one els9 to possess tiie
Puck.
“How in the world did yon 1
Curmudgeon’s consent to
daughter?” “Finesse, meL-.y.
I told all around that he
teen four-pound bass on tint
ing expedition of liis.”—Dm
Press. |
“You blamed old pLr
the farmer to his balky horse,
actually ain’t worth killin
less,” lie added, after secon i
“unless I could manage to
killed by the railroad. Oe
Enquirer.
Nurse—“Please, mum, quick for
send for the doctor
Johnnie.” Mother— “Oh, dear.
is the matter?” Nurse
know, mum; but he hasn’tbeeffl
any mischief for two hours.
don Tit-Bits.
Bobby had been studying«
old grandfather’s “Weil, wrinkle^ Bo\
a long time. _
old gentleman, “do said you m/
“Yes, grandpa,” but way
awfully nice face,
have it ironed?”—Stanaaru.
Sprocket!—“I xeas sorry 1
keep my appointment with y° c
you see, my wheel
Hudson—‘‘Why <hdut N-.
_ train?” Sprooi*. / ■
, And ride with those
non k ’-bikers? Never!
* s - 0 „ t > [ American,
M p ( to anxious mother;':
ver y simple;
ou t his spine, lay his lungs “
his liver with an a
^ ’i inject wire a‘ the *
j Qser a silver
thorax. We will then s -! -
tiv, and you’ll be stirp”--
nea make. —Iru—
gr^^o-e it’ll -x
“r) r ” said the Sena
Hauers 3a accusingyec •{.
‘ are y
mar ]j e t influence
* j- e » roa red the su
‘ a table wi
mounded the t L^n
lt y f j }iave done ia tb / ^
.
* to
tQ atlow my vo te
j n stock n.a-*- c
0 jjg journal. discussing :
m, had been
- ea j 0 f science.
Maimed that they can g -
, from c0 al now,
“ “That won't do u
_ . j ru i e (l the railroad ^
jj get ,l:re "
^ coa TCOUi
now we
* ant strike,
Post