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MANAS, THE MILLER. By Seumas MacManus. Author of "In Chimney Comers," Through the Turf-Smoke” and Other Stories. Copyright I*oo by Seumas Mac-Menus. There sss a man from the mountain named Donal. once married the daughter of a stingy old couple who lived on the lowlands. He used to atay and work on his'own wee patch of land all the week round, till it came to Saturday evening, and on Saturday evening he went to his wife's fathers to spend Sunday with them. Coming and going, he always passed the mill of Manas, the miller, and Manas, who used to be watohing him passing, always noticed and thought it strange that while he jumped the mlllraoe going to hJs wife's father’s on a Saturday evening, he had always to wade through it coming back. For a little time he notioed this and wondered, and at last he stopped Donal one Monday morning and he asked him to tell him the meaning of It "Well. I'll tell you,” says Donal. says he. “It's this. My old father-in-law is such a vyy small eater, that he says grace and blesses himself when I've only got a few pieces out of my meals, so I'm a ways weak coming back on Mon day morning. Manas, he thought over this to himself for awhile, and then says he: "Would you mind letting.me go with you ne<xt She reached It to him In the dark. Saturday evening? If you do, I promise y u that you’ll leap the mlllrace coming I back.” No. but I*ll be gtad to have you,” says I Donal. Very well and good. When Saturday evening came, Manas joined Donal, and o.T they both trudged to Donal s father in-law. The old man was not too well pleased at seeing Donal bringing a fresh hand, but Manas, he didn't pr*t©nd to see this, but made himself ae welcome as the flow ers of May, and when supper was lad down on Saturday night, Manas gave Donal the nudge, and both of them be gan to tie their shoes as if they had got leoee, and they tied and tbd away at their shoeg, till the old man had eaten a couple of minutes, and then said grace and finished and got up from the table, thinking they wouldn’t have the 111 man ners to sit down after the meal was over. Rut down to the table my brave Manas end Donal sit and eat their hearty skin ful And when the old fellow saw this, lie was gruff and grumpy, enough, and It’s little they could get out of him be tween that and bedtime. But Manas kept a lively chat going, and told good stories that passed away the night, and when bedtime came, and they offered Manas a bed in the room, — Hoard tha room door open easy. Mans® said no, that there was no place be could rleep only one, and that was along the fireside. The old man and the old woman both objected to this, and said they couldn’t think of allowing a stranger to aleep there, but all they could say or do wasn’t any use, and Manas said he couldn't nor wouldn’t sleep In- any other place, and Insisted on lying down there, and lie down there he did in spite of them all, and they all went off to their bed. But though Manas lay down, he wa9 very cure not to let himself go to sleep, end when he was near about two hours lying ha hears the room door open easy, end the old woman puts her head out and listens, and Manas he anored as if he hadn’t slept for ten days and ten rights before. When the old woman, heard this she came on up the floor and looked at him, and saw him like as If he was dead asleef). Then ehe hastened to put a pot of water on the fire and began to make n pot of slir-about for hereelf and the old man, for this was the wav, es Manas had well suspected, that they used to cheat Donal. But Just In the middle of the cooking of the pot of stir-about, doesn't Manas roll oveT and pretend to waken up. T’p he sits and rubs hie eyes and looks about him, and looks at the woman and at the pot on the fire. Ah,” says he, "Is It here ye are, or is b mornin’ with ye?” ‘Well, no,” says she, ”it isn’t momln’, but we have a cow that's not well, and I had to put on a mash on the fire here for It I’m sorry I wakened ye.” “O, no, no!” ways Manas, says he. “you haven’t wakened me at all. It’s this sore ankle I have here,” says he, rubbing his ankle. “I’ve a very, very sore ankle.” says he. “and It troubles me sometimes at bight,” he say*, “and no matter how sound asleep I may be, It wakens me up. and I've got to sit up until I cure It.” aays he. "There’s nothin’ ctires It but soot—till I rub plenty of soot out of the chimney to It" And Manas takes hold of the tongs and he begins pulling the soot down out of the chimney from above *he pot. and for every one. that fell or the fire, there were five pfecea that fell into the pot. And when Manas thought he had the poeaet well 'nough spiced with the moot, he rata- ed up a little of the soot from the fire and rubbed his ankle with It. "And now," says he. "that's all right, and I’ll sleep sound and not waken again till IXlorninV And he stretched himself out again and began to snore. The old woman was pretty vexed that jhe hod her night’s work spoiled, and she went up to the room to the old man and told* him what had happened to the stir about. He got into a bad rage entirely and asked her was Manas a&leep again, and she sukJ he was. Then he ordered her to go down and make an oat scowder and to put It on the ashes for him. She went down ond got the oatmeal and made a good scowder and set it on the and then sat by it for the short while it would be doing. But *he hadn’t it many minutes on the ashes when Manas let a cry out of him. ns if it were in his sleep, and up he Jump® and rubs his eyes and looks about him, and when he av her he said: “Cch! is it here ye are, and I'm glad ye are,” says he, “because I’ve a great trouble on me mind that's lying a load over me heart and wouldn’t let me sleep, and I want to relieve me mind to ye," say* Manas, ’ an’ then I’ll sleep hearty and sound all the night after when I get rid of it. So I’ll tell you a story,” says he. So he catches hold of the tongs in his two hands, and as he told the story he would wave about with the points of them in the ashes. “And," says he, “I want to tell you that my father afore he died was a very rich man and owned no end of lan<l. He had three sons. My*©lf, and Teddy and Tom, and the three of us were three good, hard workers. I always liked Teddy and Tom, but however it came out, Tom and Teddy hated me, and they never lost a chance of tr3*ing to damage me with my father and to turn him against me*. He 6©nt Teddy and Tom to school and gave them a grand education, but he only gave me the spade in my flats and sent me out to the fields. Arbd when Teddy and Tom eme back from school, they were two gentlemen, and used to ride their horses and hunt with their hounds; and me they always made look after the honses and groom them and reddle them and bridle them, and be there in the yard to meet them when they would come in from their riding and take charge of their horses, give them a rubbing down and stable them for them. “In my own mind, I used to think that this wasn’t exactly fair or brotherly treat ment, but I said nothing, for 1 liked both Teddy and Tom. And prouder and proud er of them every day got my father, end more and more every day he disliked me, until at long and at last when he came to die, he liked Teddy and Tom that much, and he liked poor Manas that little, that he drew up hi? will ond divided his land into four parts awl left it in this way: “Now supposin’.” says Monas, eays he, digging the point of the *ongs into the scowder, “supposin’,” avs he, “there wo® my father’s farm. He cut it across this way,” pays he, drawing the ton*?? through the scowder in one way. “Then he cut it ocrofl* this way,” says he, draw ing the tongs through the scowder in the other direction, “and that quarter,” says he. tossing away a auarter of the scowder with the point of the tongs, “he gave to my mother. And that quarter there,” says he. tossing off the other quarter into the dirt, “he gave to Teddy, and this quarter here,” say* he, tossing the third quarter, “he gave to Tom. And -this last quarter,” says Manas, says he, dig ging the point of the tongts right into the heart of the other quarter of the scow der. and lifting it up and looking at It. “that quarter,” says he, “he gave to the priest,” and he pitched it as far from him down the floor as he could. “And there,” says he. throwing down the tongs, “he left poor ‘Manas what he is to-day —a beggar and an outcast. That ma’am.” says he, “is me story, and now that I’ve relieved my mind. I’ll sleep sound and well till morning.” And down he stretches himself by the fireside, and> begins to snore again. And the oid woman she started up to the room, and she told the old man what had happened to the scowder, and the old fellow got into a mighty rage entirely, end was for getting up and going down to have the life of Manas, for he waa starving with the hunger. But she tried to smooth him down as well as he could. And then he told her to go down to the kitchen and make something else on the fire for him. “O! It’s no use,” says she, a trying to make anything on ihe fire, for there’ll lyUJj* ' IY/'vA-"-'*** He healed In a calf. y be some other ache coming on that fel low's ankle or some other trouble on his mind, snd he'll be setting up In the mid dle of it all to tell me about it. But I’ll tell yon what I’ll do.” says ehe. "I’ll go out and I’ll milk the cow, and give you a good Jug of sweet milk o drink, and that will take the hunger oIT y6u till morning.” He told her to get up quick and do It, or she would find him dead of the hun ger. And off she went as quickly as aho could, and took n Jug off the kitchen dresser, and slipped out, leaving Mimas snoring loudly In the kitchen. But when Manas thought that she had time to hsve the Jug near filled from the cow, he slips out to the byee, and o* It waj deck, ha talked like 1h old man: THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY. AUGUST 10, 1000. MUN YON'S Blood Cure ab- OMgIK solutely cures scrofula, eczema, itjk „ ‘‘ruptions, syphilit -53 conditions, mer ge curial taints, etc. \ tW clout in ail blood At.*" diseases common to a hot. climate. - j Free medical ad- I Jr vice. 1505 Arch st„ Phi la. * Iblood cure! "And.’’ says he. “I’ll die with the hun ger if you don't hurry with that.” So she filled out the jug and she reach ed i to him in the dark, and he drank it oft and gave her back the empty jug, and went in and lay down. Th-n she milked off" another Jug for herself and drank It. and came slipping in and put the Jug easy on -the dresser, so as not to waken Manas, and went up to the room. When she came up, the old fellow was raging there. Says he: “You might have milked all the cows in the county since, an’ me dead with hunger here wait in’ on it. Give me my Jug of milk,” says he. "And what do ye mean?” says she. “What do you moan, you old blather skite?" says the old man, says he. Says she: "Didn't you come out to the byer and ask me for the jug of milk there, an’ didn't I give it to you, an’ didn’t you drink it all?" "Be this and be that.” says he. “but this is a nice how-do-ye-do. It’s that scoundrel,” says he, “in the kitchen that’s tricked ye again. An’ be this an’ be. that,” says he, “I'm goin' down now an’ have his life." And when she heard how she had been tricked she was not a bit sorry to let him go and have Manas’ life. But Manas had been listening with his ear to the keyhole to hear what was going on, and when he heard this, and while the man was preparing to go down and take his life, he hauled in a calf and put it lying by the fireside where he had been lying and threw the cover over it. And when the man came down with the sledge-hammer he went for the place where he knew Manas had been lying, and he struck with all his might, and he drove the hammer through the calf's skull, and the calf only Just gave one mew and died. And then the old fellow went back to his bed content and the miller went out and oft home again. * When the old fellow and his woman got up the morning early to go and bury the milt*..- they found the trick he had played on thcv and they were in a pretty rage. But when the breakfast was made this morning, and Donal ana all of them sat down, I can tell you the old fellow was In no hurry saying grace, at.t Donal he got his hearty fill for once in hi.' life any how, and so did he at night. And when Donal was going hack for home on Monday morning, he leapt ‘he mill-race, and Manas came out and gave him a cheer. He got Manas’ both hands an<J he shook them right hearty. And every Monday morning after, for the three years that the old fellow lived, Manas always saw Donal leap the mill race as easy as a sparrow might hop over a rod. At the end of three years, the old fellow died, and Donal went to live on the farm altogether, and there was no friend ever came to see him lhat was more heartily welcomed than Manas the Miller. novelties at ukchicoh and teas A JSotlcenble Absence of Color In Decoration. New York, Aug. 17.—Now that the back of the summer is broken, there is an in spiration towards freshness and newne-e in everything. Especially is this d,seem ed in the service of luncheons and after noon tea, where several little ultra-fash ionable points are beginning to make the r way preparatory to autumn gaiety. On the luncheon table green is still its domi nant color. One of the new ways In which the color is used is the fine, tint wreath of asparagus spray which is arranged upon the whole cloth. It is an extremely dainty and unusual decoration. The filmy spray Is broken Into bits about six inches in length and they are then laid so as to form the wreath. If a more broken effect than a wreath is desired, the little sprays are equally adapted to form a garlanded border. It should always lie perfectly flat on the table and small dishes are set upon it in a way quite regardless of its pres ence. With any sort of floral scheme the wreath is appropriate, and it is by no means an expensive or difficult decora tion. The newest thing in China that is now seen and which is regarded as being par ticularly smart, is Ihe “all-over white.” It would seem that ftiis style has appeared as a reaction to the much decorated wares. But the late fad will only be found to be desirable when produced in the finest wares and with all the accompanying ele gancies. A set that has recently been brought to this country Is of the first quality of minturn and has an exquisite finish, a gray white said to be very new. About every piece is a narrow and scal loped gold edge. The only other bit of color that Is seen Is the arms of the fam ily done at the sides of the pieces, not in the center, and ill olive green. Belonging to this set is a beautiful high center piece for flowers, and four very quaint branch ing candelabras. When the whole service is upon the table it produces a pure shim mering effect which is enchanting. Hellshes. green things and ices are more served now than the ponderous cooking of the winter. Fruit as of old frequently begins a luncheon, but it ie served in a different way. The meat and pulp are no longer left In the skin. The Juice only is used. This is squeezed out and placed in a small Homan punch glass. To it mornschino sugar and a brandy cherry or two are added. On the top floats a layer of crushed Ice and candled rose leaves. It is theq sipped or eaten with a very small spoon. Ham is served In anew way as a re! ish. it is first boiled and cut Into very dainty strips. Then it Is broiled over live coals until it curls up a little at the edges. Finally it Is dipped and served in a heat ed sauce made of tomiito catsup and all the other Ingredients which are used in. the concoction of on oyster cocktail. Now that society’s great rush of the summer is over there is on Immense amount of informal tea drinking, and nt last wc may he thankful that a bit of comfort besides the tea has become fash ionable at such times. Tea cups and doilies and biscuits ond cakes are no longer thrust upon the unfortunates whose hands are already filled with card cases, canes and numerous other belongings. The old-fashioned nests of tables have crept back to the drawing-room and one is placed before each individual that de clares his Intention of taking tea. A pioce is thus provided for the guest to set down his teacup, and these tables are so smail and light that they cun be drawn closely up to the chair. Oirty those aware of the vagaries of teacups eon imagine the relief they afford to the nerves. This custom of Individual tables which Is rap idly spreading In this country Is one of the good things that a few New York women hove brought away from China. In fact the Chinese have many things they might tench ns In the service of ten. Newts of tttblew of both Chinese and Japanese designs are therefore quite as much seen ns the old mahogany ones and can ire pi educed at the Importers of such wares. L,ltle home-mode cakes are now served for nfternoiin tea as (he almond paste sandwiches of iast winter have had their j day. This U also a comfort. A MIDNIGHT RIDE. By Frederic Van Renseliaer Dey. Copyright. 1900, by S. S. McClure Cos. I called upon Mars ton Moore one even ing—it was in September, ISBS—and quite to my surprise found him in deep dejec tion. Ho was a young: physician of three or four years' practice, but without a care in the world that I had every heard of; certainly he had no occasion to worry about ordinary things, for his bank ac count was among the many thousands. Nevertheless, he was despondent, and when I endeavored to laugh him out of the condition he became only more morose. His manner was so brusque and his re plies so monosyllablic that at last I took offense and rose to depart. It was then that he detained me. “Pardon me. old chap,” he said, with more cordiality than he had yet manifest ed. “The fact is I'm in trouble. Some body has got to help me out, and I don't know which way to turn. It is almost too much to ask of any friend.” I cl rope pd back into my chair reassured, and after a moment of silence asked as gently as I could: “How much is it, Marston?’’ He looked up quickly, and there was a puzzled expressions on his face; then, he laughed, but it was a mirihleas laugh aft er all. “It isn’t that.” he said presently. “I wish it were. Do you think that I would have hesitated to apply to you if it were a question of money. No; that is the least of my worries. It is something of far more importance than that. It is—but I cannot put you to such a severe test of friendship, old fellow.” “Come, come.” I exclaimed, my curiosity il Every ruse which the human mind could conceive was forced to induce me to de sert Moore. aroueed, and also resenting the idea that he should consider any test of my friend ship for him 100 great for me to stand. “If there is anything in th** world that I can do for you, Marston, you well know that I will be only too glad to do it. Out with it now; what is the matter?” “1 cannot tell you ail of the horrible story.” he replied with marked hesitation. “If you are willing to go with me you will have to wait until we arrive before you hear all there Is to tell.” “Arrive where?” I demanded. “That also is out of my power to state,” he responded, “for I do not yet know my self.” Then he sprang from his chair, and with rapid strides crossed and recrossed the room several limes, at last pausing di rectly in front of me. with feet wide apart and hand thrust deep into his trous ers pockets. For a moment he regarded me with a gaze so intense that involunta rily I turned my eyes away. It was then that he continued: “JLook here, Ferguson,” he said; “if you really mean that you will stand by me through this thing, you will have to go into it blindly. It is not that I lack confidence in you that I do not tell—you know .that, or .should—lt Is because, now, I cannot be more explicit.” “All right; I’ll go it blind, then,” I said, trying to laugh, and making a mlaerabte failure of it. “You would do it for me if the positions were reversed.” “I am not so sure of that, knowing what I do,” he half soliloquized. “It’s a great deni to ask of nnv man, especially one’s best friend. No, Ferguson, Ido not think that I should accept your offer. I’ll see the thing through alone, leg the conse quences be what they may.” “I’ll be blowed If you will,” I ejaculat ed, getting upon my feet also, and facing him where he stood. “If you are going Into any danger, where I can be of ser vice, or where I can help see you through, I’m going to do It. J don’t care a rap W'hat it is. You needn’t te*!l me another word, now or ever, if you don’t want to, hut go with you I will; and If you still refuse, so help me, I’ll trump up some charge and have you arrested so that you cannot go yourself. Now, don’t have any more words about It, but tell me at once what I am to do.” ‘‘You’re a trump, too. Ferguson!” he exclaimed, seizing me by the, hand and shaking it heartily, and T noticed that his eyes brightened perceptibly as he did so. “It Is wo?*tb while having such n friend as you are In an extremity like this one. and T will take you a* your word. All that I can say now is Ibis: I must leuve here to-night et midnight, and I have an .appointment to keep beyond the city lim its; but the exact location of the place where I am to meet the parties who ex pect me has not yet been fixed upon. In fact, I wili not know about. It until short ly before the time to start. We will have to go on horseback, and Oorl ulone knows when we will return, if w© ever do. Are you still determined to accompany me?” “More than ever.” “Very well. Meet me, then, at Dandla stables exactly at 12 o’clock to-night. I will have two good horses in readiness. Ree that you are well armed, Ferguson. A pair of ‘forty-fours’ may come In handy before we see the sun of another day—lf we are fortunate enough ever to do so.” I clasped his hand silently, and In si lence left him. T wo- greatly perturbed about the affair, for T could not even guess at the meaning of his str inge words and manner. I had known Moore since my freshman year n college, and our friendship had never faltered since that time, now twelve years; nor hnd I ever known him to g<*t Into a serious sera ye. Of the two. I was more prone to that sort of thing. It was barely 8 o’clock when T left Moore, ro that I had four hours In which to moke thy preparat lens for he midnight ride. This I did, first by writing several letters und inclosing ’hem In h big *n vHope, which I placed conspicuously on the mantel In my sleeping room, marked: “To be opened and directions followed. In v c<m# I have no-t returned at I o’clock to morrow evening.” Then I dated it. so there might be no mistake. After That I clothed myself in my riding suit and boots, buckled my cartridge belt and re volvers around my body and I wait ready. It was then only 11 o’clock, and I passed the intervening* time in writing more let ters, for Moore’s seriousness had impress ed me strongly, and although I could not even conjecture what might happen, I was thoroughly imbued with the idea that the experiences of the. night were not to be child’s play. In that I was correct. When the clock struck 12 I entered The stable. Moore was awaiting me, impa tiently slashing his boots with his riding whip. “You are fifteen minutes late, Fergu son." “It is exactly 12.” I responded in as tonishment. producing my watch in proof of the statement. “I am right on the minute.” “Are you?”—ironically—'"l thought I said at a quarter of 12.” “No, youmaid ‘exactly at 12;’ those are your own words.” “Well, never mind; you are here now. anyway:” and he swung himself into the saddle, struck his horse a smart clip with the whip anti dashed into the darkness. I was nfter him on the instant, but did r.ot overtake him until wc were nt Fif teenth street, where he held up and wait ed for me. “We turn here." he said briefly, and led the way along that thoroughfare towards the Blue river valley. I endeavored to get ncor enough to converse with him, but for some reason I could not Either his horse was unusually fractious, or surreptitiously Moore kept him ex cited with the spur. All the way to the river bottom he kept a Tittle ahead of me, and quite to one side, so that there was no opportunity for conversation. Down at the very point where Fifteenth street crosses the bottom, he halted, and for the first time seemed disposed to talk. “We turn south, here, Ferguson,” he raid, “and we will have to pick our way. It Is rather dark,' bu-t I think I can find the place.” 'Then you know now where you are going?” I asked. “Yes. There is an old house a mile or so below here. I am going there. Arc your pistols all right?” “Yes,” I replied. “There is an old railroad grade some where here. It has been abandoned for years, but if I con locate it we can fol low along the fop of It. It will be easier than forcing our way through the brush. Keep your eyes peeled now, and look out that you are not brushed off your horse by n low hanging limb; and above all, Ferguson, don’# talk. Del us move along as silently as possible.” He led the way, and I followed, al though as w'o dived deeper into the woods it soon become difficult to see him, hut I knew that my horse would follow his unerringly, so I abandoned the effort to guide him. It seemed to me that we trav eled In that manner more than on hour. though I now know it was not so long by far; then wo turned down the bank of the old gra<le. crossed a swampy stretch where the grass grew so high that it caught in my spurs, and presently began the ascent of a steep though short hill, and at the top emerged from the woods, hut found ourselves at the margin of a wilderness of bushes that were not quite as high as our heads as we sat upon our horses. Coming from the gloom of the forest behind us. the starlit “I’ll he blowed If you fvill.” sky—there was no moon—made it eeom quite light. Before us. three or four hundred feet away, dark, gloomy and for bidding. loomed the outlines of a house, and for some reason the aspect of the whole thing sent an Involuntary shudder through me. While I was intently regarding the house. Moore dismounted, and having un buckled one side of the bridle rein and thus made a halter of It, he tied his horse to a tree. "We will have to h ave the horses here. Ferguson,” he said. “What we have to do now must be done on foot. Tie your ani mal and follow me.” I acted ns hastily ss I could, but Moore was already several paces in advance; atlll. I hastened to overtake him. “Don’t you think you had better post me a Ilf tie now, Marston?” f managed to whisper; but the only reply 1 received was a sharp, “Hist!” and somewhat offended. I went on after that, silently and doggedly, resolved tha* I would not ask Another question, n<* matter what happened. As we drew nearer to th* house. I saw that we were behind It. There was no sign of Ilfs visible. Indeed, from appearances, I Hard Sense. It takes keen common sense, '’^"’29l added to superior judgment and experience, to be superintend ent of ~~ B a railroad. Such a man never re commends anything that be lias not himself subjected to crucial test. , Kays*? prominent railroad superintend- , , ill cat, living at Savann&l), Ga., in ji’V J't ’which city he was born, says be feels better than he ever did, and C* he had the worst case of dyspepsia on record. Ho had no appetite, and 1 1)) b the little he cte disagreed with him, had pains in the head, breast and * S/fpyr'y •tomach, but after using three bot ties of P. P. P. he felt like anew Mm/W man.** He says that he feels that he i'UuVEI could live forever if he could always . g£j}t& u &etP. P. P. His name will be given on application to Dippman Brothers,, the Ml proprietors of this great remedy. Dyspepsia in all its forms is promptly and permanently cured by P. P. P. General Debility and lack of energy give place to vim ar.d ambition through the use of P. P. P. Blood Poiso i and all its incidental and hereditary 431s are eradicated by P. P. P. Rheumatism is conquered and banished by P. P. P., as are aluo Catarrh and Malaria. P. P. P. ia a purely rsgo table compound, which has steadily grown in favor for years. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS. LIPPMAN BRO T ”’ r ”'S. * 0 ™ T I^ S - Savannah, Ga. FRENCH CLARET WINES, and GERMAN RHINE and MOSELLE WINES and FRENCH COGNAC BRANDIES. All these flue M ines and Liquors are Imported by us In class direct from the growers In Europe. Our St. Juiten Claret Wine from Everest. Dupont A Cos of Bordeaux. Frame, is one of their qpeclaliie., and one at extremely low price. The Chateaux Leo villa, one of their superior Claret Wines, well known all over the United States. We also carry in bond Claret Wines from this celebrated firm in casks. Our Bhine and Moselle Winee ere imported from Martin Deutz. Frank fort, Germany, are the beet that come to the United States* BO DEN HEIM Is very tine and cheap. NIERBTEIN also very good. RUBES HEIM very choice. „ RAUENTHAL, selected grapes, very elegant LIEBFRANMILCH, quite celebrated MARCOBRUNNER CABINET elegant and rare YOHANNISBUROER is perfection. SPARKLING HOCK SPARKLING MOSELLE. BPARKUNO MUBCA TBLLE. and FINE FRENCH COGNAC BRANDIES Special Brandies are Imported direct from France by ue. in eases and cask*. , LIPPMAIN brothers. decided that the place had been deserted a long time; perhaps years. Moore, how ever, seemed to know where he was going, and he led me, by a detour, around the house, so that we finally approached it from the front. Just before we stepped from the conceal ment of the bushes to approach the door, I felt my friend’s hand upon my arm and heard him whisper, very low: "Follow me closely, and do exactly as I say. A great deal —our safety—may depend upon it. Then he went ahead. We stepped upon the rickety porch os silently as we could, hut despite our efforts It Creaked dismally beneath our combined weight. Then, to my surprise, Moore, with the butt of one of his pistols, hammered loudly upon one of the panels of the door.' After the- silence that had preceded his act, It seemed to my strained senses as If the noise made by the knocking might have been heard a mil© away. Notwith standing thrrt fact, there was no immedi ate response, and presently Moore ham mered again, this time louder than before, and the summons had to be repeated the third time befoxe there was anything like a response. Then, from beyond the door, a masculine voice inquired; “Who la there?” “Marston Moore,” replied my compan ion In a loud tone. “Alone?” was the seddnd query. “No; accompanied by a friend.” There followed & moment of silence, ami then the voice beyond the door said: “Why didn't you come alone as you were tcld to do? There isn't any room for strangers here; you know that.” I thought I heard Moore swear under his brcatli, but I was not Fure; and then, in a tone which there was no mistaking, he shouted: “Open that door, Madgley, or I’ll kick It in, and it won’t be a difficult thing to do either. Open It, and open It quick!” There was another short Interval of si lence, end then, rather to my wurprise, the door swung slowly back on its hinges, leaving a space of Impenetrable blackness In its place. There was not a sign of a human being to be seen. The man who had spoken to us from behind the door had disappeared—or, rather, Ike did not ap pear at all. Moore immediately passed through the aperture into the darkness and disap peared, but u second later I heard his voice: “Come on, Ferguson,” he said; “it’s all right.” I followed without hesitation, but I had a.’areely passed the threshold when strong arms seized and pinioned me from behind, a blanket was thrown over my head, and before I coqld do anything to resist the attack. I was dragged to the floor, and by many ha mis held helpless while others bound me. Notwithstanding the struggle In which I was engaged, I was conscious that there was another one near me, and I believed that Moore had been attacked in the ?arn© manner. “Fools >hat we were,” I thought, “to enter that dark cor ridor an we had don© without first taking precautions to avoid exactly the thing thut hod happened.” 1 called aloud to Moore, but received no reply; except for the deep breathing of the men near me, the silence waa abso lute. As soon as I was bound so that there was no chant* for me to escape, my cap tors raised me from the floor and bore me away. I knew that they carried me to the second floor of the building, and presently f was taken into n large room where there was a fire, and in the dim light I could see that the men who had assaulted me were garbed In the now well known livery of “whltecap**.” I realized that there would be little or no use In asking questions, and remained silent; nor not one of my captors ut tered a word. I looked around ns well ns I could for some sign of Moore, but he was not there, and if he was, I could not discover him. They placed me upon my hack on the floor, and ihe next Instant a thick hand kerchief of black silk was bandaged around my head, effectually blindfold ing me A moment later 1 heard them leave the room and I knew that I was alone. Nearly an hour passed before I agnln hoard n sound, and then it wos the stealthy tread of many feet passing near me until It seemed, to my strained sense of hearing, os If I was in the center of a group that hed forme*! around me. Then I whs startled by n deep voice near me, which said: 'Mr. Albert Ferguson, you may thank yourself alone for the Inconvenience to which we have been compelled to pot you. We hnd reasons for desiring the presence of your companion, but we hove nothing to do with your affairs. If you are willing to return as you came, and to pledge yourself to absolute secre y regarding Il that has happened to-night, there la no reason why we should detain you.” "Where 1s Moor* ?” T demanded. "Or- I tairily, T sin willing to do ail you ask, , but you must remember that X came here with Marston Moore. If I return aa I came, I return wtth him.” “In this case you will have to return wtthout him,” was the stem reply. “Then I’ll give you no pledge of se creoy, and you know that I would not keep it if I made one.” “This is a serious matter. Mr. Fergu son; you had better think twice befors you decide. Our business with Moore Is our own affair and his. He knew what he had to expect before he came here, and he knew, also. Just what dangers threatened you if he brought you with him. He acted the part of a coward in doing so, and if you will heed good advice you will have nothing more to do with him.” “What have you done with him?” was all the reply I made. “We have done with him Juat exactly as we now propose to do with you, for I see that you ore incorrigible. Pick him up, boys. It is a waste of breath to argue with him.” If I should attempt to *Vscrlbe the ex periences through which I pissed dur ing the ensuing hrtur and n half, credu lity would be taxed to the utmost, but it is certain that every ruse which the Ingenuity of the human mind could con ceive was forced upon me- to Induce me in some way to desert Moore, or to deny him. As the ceremony progressed—and before the proceedings hud occupied above an hour, I had decided that it was a cer emony of some kind—lt dawned upon me, dimly et first, and then* with the force of certainty, that I was undergoing corns sort of Initiation; what it was I could not determine. The real truth did not ©nre occur to me. At last, with the bandage still over mjr eyes, I heord these words: “My friend*”—and the voice startled me, for I fancied that I recognized It— “it is with unmixed pleasure that I an nounce the completion, of your trials and suffering. You have been tried in* the balance and have not been found wanting In the virtues which wo require of all candidates. Whoever ©niters here must por.geaa all the qualities which are ex pressed by the word ’Friend,’ which is the most abused and treduced word Ir> our language. Throughout all the tests that have been applied to you, you have been steadfast, loyal and true. What more can one friend ask of another? You wars willing, at the request of Mr. Moore, to go blindly Into unknown dangers, con tent to await n explanation until he chose to grant one, and you hav© found hero many who stand ready at any moment to perform the an me service for you. And now, after some further initiation and Instruction, you will have become a member of the moat secret order in the world—and the most magnificent. Even Its true name is never mentioned—never uttered aloud. Mr. Moore will remove tha bandage from your eyes and cut the ©ords that bind you. After he has craved your pardon for the imposition he has prac ticed upon you, you will be Instructed in the mygterles of this sacred order.” That Is all. I wish I might tell tha rest, but I cannot. (THE END.) y* —F©w probably know how fond Queen Victoria Is of the s'lrrlng strains of a good military band. She gave one of many recent evidences of this liking when, not long since, the band of the First Eight Guards was playing in the Grand Quad rangle et Windsor Castle. Her Majesty was wive©!* and out from her apartments, and. after listening for a considerable Mme. wltli evident enjoyment, she -.sent for the bandmaster to say how pleased she was with his band. BRRNNAN BROS., WHOLESALB Fruit, Produce, Grain, Etc. >32 BAY STREET. WuL 10rphan. SSS. SCaiE YOURSELF! L’ne Tig U fur uu natural ii*rh.*trx<'*, Inflamuiatiooa, irritatiouo or ulcerations >f mucous warn0 runs*. i’amleiM. and not utrii* , Brut or poisonous. <*M by I.*rrr sr |sli, or ornt in plain wrapper, by exprms. pr*>p*M. TU iyott, ~t .i bofftM, VEh, Circular ii cu rofiiaa& *- ■ M IF TOU WANT GOOD MATERIAL and work, order your lithographed and tainted stationery and blank books float* Morning News, Savannah, Qa. 15