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SUNDAY MORNING.
fl OLD TIM& FAVORITES II
ANNABEL JLEE. 9 9 9 By Edjjar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may
know.
By the name of Annabel Leo;
And thi* maiden she lived with no other
thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a e.hild and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more
than love —
I and my Annabel I>ec;
With a love that the wiDgcd seraphs of
heaven
Coveted hot- and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
Mv beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut, her up in a sepulcher ; <j
In this kingdom by thc-nca.
The angels, not half so happy in heaver..
-r- -T- AYNIE B. PRINGLEY,junior
member of the firm of Scott
f ; & Pringley, Jewelers, wore a
Q look of worried disgust ns lie
at on the veranda of bis summer hotel
nt Manchester reading his partner’s
letter for the fourth time. “Done
Prlng,” It said, “accept congratulations
on your approaching wedding. I have
told most of tile boys and everybody is
delighted. Our compliments to Miss
Burnett, Don’t hurry home. We’re
getting on nicely and you’re entitled to
aa long a vacation ns you wish,
"I linte to Intrude business nt this
particular time, but you remember the
diamond brooch that whs stolen Just
before you left by those women nt the
Jernlngham. Well, we’ve got a clew,
and oddly enough the women have
been traced to Manchester. Frank Pat
terson, the detective, is entitled to all
the credit. He's doing line work on
the case and will call on you about the
time you get. this. What 1 want to ask
Is that you help him nil you can. You
know you bought the gems and chose
the setting yourself, and you're the
very muu to Identify them, etc.”
“Confound the brooch," growled
Frlngley. “I suppose I’m expected to
sit here now till that fool decteetlve
comes.”
And he did sit there till Corinnc Bur
nett, bis fiancee, came driving along in
her dog cart with Fanny Callaway,
her churn and confidante, sitting bo
lide her.
"Got a secret for you, Corinnc,”
' MORE INTENT UPON THE B ATHERS THAN ON THE SEA
laughed Pringley, golug down to the
cart.
"Better let m# drive down to the
postofllee,” pouted Miss Callaway, with
• toss of her uncovered brown curls.
“But you'll drive back for luncheon?"
the man asked.
She grimaced saucily at him, and
drove away as Corinnc leaped lightly
to the ground. Frlngley brought an
easy chair for Miss Burnett, and when
they were tete-a-tete in a corner of the
veranda showed her the letter. He ex
pected her to scold about it, but she
was delighted.
"It'll be splendid!” she gurgled.
“We’ll all turn detective. You know I
perfectly adore detectives —so myste
rious, so brave, so eunulng! Do let me
tell Fanny about it. She’s awfully
cute, and between us all maybe we
can help Mr. Patterson "
So the “business” which he had
dreaded became anew topic of delight
for the lovers, and before noon they
were positively longing for the arrival
of the sleuth. Miss Callaway did not
come back for luncheon, and. fond as
they were of her. they rejoiced as lov
ers always do under such circum
stances. Toward evening they strolled
toward the beach past the cottage ho
tel where the girls lived, routed Fanny
from her letter writing and donned
their bathing garments. When they
had frolicked for awhile in the surf
Frlngley noticed a very haudsome
Went envying her and me;
Yes!—-that was the reason (an all men
know,
In tliis kingdom by the sea)
That the wind eame out of the cloud by
night
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than
love
Of those whp were older than w® —
Of many far wiser than we;
And neither the angels in heaven above.
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Cnn ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
For the moon never beams without bring
ing me dreams
Of tile beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the
bright eyes
(if the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the
side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my
bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea. , '
young man, a newcomer, sitting in the
sand, more Intent upon the bathers
than upon the sen or its vigorous sport.
“Can’t, be the detective,” thought
Frlngley, “too high-toned for that,”
But a few moments later when he
searched for the watcher he was gone.
Frlngley nnd his sweetheart parted
much earlier than usual that night, Uhrl
when he reached his hotel the decorous
young gentleman of the bench was sit
ting smoking on the veranda.
“Mr. Frlngley, of Scott & Frlngley, 1
believe?” lie said softly.
“Yes. You're Mr. Patterson?” The
young merchant extended his friendly
hand, hut the detective ns he shook It
looked confused and said MOtblhj?.
“Let’s go to my room,” srtid Frlngley,
leading the way
"You knoW Why I’m here," began
Patterson, after lie had locked the door,
“and I’ll begin by saying that I’m sorry
to he mixed up In this case at nil."
“Why?”
“Let me ask you one question first.
Did you tell Miss Burnett anything?”
“I did. Why?”
“There you made a mistake, at least
from my point of view. Either she or
Miss Callaway stole ”
"Stop!” roared PrJngley, getting pur
ple with anger.
“Sh-sli! Tim thing Is up to you.
You’re one of the partners. If you say
the word I'll catch the next train for
New York, but until you call me off I
must do my best to catch the thief,”
“But for God’s sake, man, don't go
so fast. Miss Burnett is a perfect ”
“She's an actress, or tv as, and sq is
Miss Callaway. You never saw either
of them till you came here two months
ago. did you? Well. I did. I traced
them here fyoin the Jerningham, and
know exactly when they arrived,
and "
“And what?"
"That the brooch is m Miss Cala
way’s trunk right now. I saw it this
afternoon while you were bathing.”
"Then it’s Fanny?"
“That’s what 1 think. 1 don't even
say- they're accomplices. I suspect,
though, that Miss Burnett knows. I
hope it turns out that way for your
sake, but my doty is as plain ns day.”
“What do you propose?”
“To arrest them both."
“Well, you mustn’t. Patterson." said
Frlngley, pale now and hesitating,
“.lust lay low, will you? I'll get back
the brooch for you somehow, and you
can bring it back to the store. Nobody
need know how you got It.”
“But the thief?”
“Leave her to me. I’ll make it right
with you, Patterson.”
“Has Miss Burnett told Miss Calla
way ?”
"No. We were together all day, and
Fanny was asleep Alien Coriune got
home tonight.”
“Then you must warn her right now
or the brooch and the brown haired
girl will be gone iu the morning.’’
THE BRUNSWICK DAILY NEWS.
"That’s so! It was a brown haired
girl who ‘bought’ the brooch! And my
—Corinne Is as blonde as gold!"
Frlngley chuckled at the thought,
but he hurried to Miss Burnett's hotel
and warned her to keep the secret.
When he got back the detective said:
“Then I’ll hands off, Mr. Frlngley?”
And so It was agreed.
*
“I hate to believe It, Haynie,” Cor
inne was saying through her sobs,
when Pringley the Dext morning told
her of the detective suspicions, “I’ve
only known her six months, and we
were at the Jernlngham together, but
I can’t believe she’d do such a hateful
thing, i was Just getting so fond of
her.”
Pringley comforted he* but Insisted
that she help him to recover the
brooch. He said the Wedding must
be postponed until this ugly business
was over, and he explained that' if
Fanny were really the thief it were
best that they make sure of it before
she compromised them.
“And if you get back the brooch, will
you let poor Fanny go free?” asked the
loyal little friend.
“I promise. Nobody but you and I
and Patterson shall know. And be
sides, I’ll buy back the bauble for your
wedding gift.”
“Then I’ll try,” she said, smiling,
“not because I want the brooch, but
because I do want to save the poor
denr.”
Early the next morning Patterson,
lounging Idly along the sunlit road,
saw Miss Burhett in her dog cart
driving furiously to Pringley’s hotel.
An hour Infer he saw her drive slowly
away nnd then be sauntered up to
Hayiiie’s chair.
"I've got it,” Whispered Pringley,
beckottlhg him to follow to his room.
“You’re pretty slick, Patterson. It Was
Miss Callaway, though 1 wouldn’t have
believed it If siie hadn’t Owrted tip to
Corlhhe and given back the brooch-.
Mere It is.” The detective took it iti
his strong hand, weighing it, but look
ing curiously tit Pringley. ” And how
what?” tie asked.
“FvO agreed to let Miss Callaway
alone. You get back to the store ns
fast as you can. Miss Burhett arid I
leave for Boston on the noon train to
lie —married. Herb she comes. We'll
he bdek to-morrow. Good-by 1 if you
want to know any more wait here for
mo.”
And Mr. Patterson, the detective, not
only decided to wait, but to put in Ills
leisure searching for the second time
in the room whence Miss Fanny anti
the brl'dit- hdd already fled. And in the
tossed and ransacked closet, amidst
heaps of Miss Burnett’s scattered
wardrobe, he found a brown wig.
“It lnnat lie Corlnne’s,” reflected the
thoughtful sleuth, "for what would a
brown haired woman like Miss Calla
way want v/lth a brown 1“
Then a great light dawned upon him,
and he murmured) "Well, It's his
funeral, net mlue."-John 11. Raftcry,
In the Chicago Record-Hernld,
Weather 111 Artiona.
"From the expressions I hear from
people In Washington, I imagine that
you Vvoli-favored citizens of the Na
tional capital have bceh having a bit
of warm weather,” said Mf. A. B.
Hamilton, nt the St. James. “But If
you think this Is warm, you ought to
be out in Arizona, where I live.
“There the thermometer runs up to
100 and 102 degrees almost every dtiy
In the summer, and yet one never hears
of a person suffering from a heat
stroke. I went there and settled on a
much nearly eighteen years ex
piling that I would be shipped to my
home iu Massachusetts in a plue box
lu about six mouths. Everybody said
that I hod consumption, and that the
only tiling that Would prolong my life
for perhaps a few years was the Ari
zona climate-.
“I didn’t have a great deal of hope
myself, but I determined to make a
tight for life. I weighed 119 pounds
then, and yesterday, when I stepped on
the scales in New York, I tipped the
beam to 180, nnd I haven’t seen a sick
day for years; but I stayed ou that
Arizona ranch until 1 got in good con
dition. For five years I never saw a
drop of rain. Then, 1 took a trip to
Denver, and while I was there I had
the delightful pleasure of once again
witnessing a good, old-fashioned rain
storm, and I felt like going out and
standing in it and getting drenched to
the skin.—Washington Times.
Trlrtl to Up n New Yorker.
She came in from the West and took
the elevated from Forty-second street.
But from head to foot it was evident
that all her tailor-made attire came
from New York. And It was plain
that tile man who would dare to in
sinuate that she was not born in the
big town would have incurred her
hatred. She had gathered so much
of Western beauty nnd breeziness that
no man would wish to incur that.
The air of haughty indifference that
Miss Indiana supposed typical of New
York lasted without abatement from
Forty-second street to Chatham square.
It was a City Hall train, and the
change in the line disconcerted her.
As it drew nearer and nearer the ter
minus her perplexity increased. Then
eame the finishing touch. The train
drew up at the bridge. Miss Indiana
hesitated. Then her bewilderment
overcame her.
“Is this South Ferry?” she inquired
of tile man in the seat beside her
She was told it was not. And the
smile which accompanied the answer
made her an enemy for life of the man
who smiled. For pretty Miss Indiana
knew that her hopes of being consid
ered a New York girl had vanished
with her question.—New York Press.
About 8000 tourists visited Cairo,
Egypt, during the past winter season.
What the Desert
® • Looks Like
Very few people have any idea what
the desert looks like. The majority
Imagine it to be a vast expanse of
level sand, and to these the photograph
here shown ivill come as a revelation.
This was taken during a French mili-
WHAT The DESERT LOO£S LIKE —-FOR MILES AND MILES,
NOTHING IS TO BE SEEN EXCEPT THESE VAST MOUNTAINS
or SAND:”
tary expedition in Algeria, in the desert
region of Zu-Salah. For hides nnd
hides nothing is to be seen except
these vast mountains of sand—moun
tains which are always on the move,
for the lightest breath of air blows
Clouds of fine sand into the air, while
a strong wind Will Completely change
the whole face of the desert. Sucking
hp the sand into a series of rotating
funnels bearing a curious resemblance
to water-spouts. At such it time the
Unhappy traveler Is iu terrible danger,
for he stands n very good chance of
being engulfed bodily in the treacher
ous waves of shifting sand.—The Wide
World.
The Lion ami Tradition.
Modern hunters have proved the lion,
the king of beasts, a rank coward,
taking fright at a grunt. Any ordinary
Spanish bull can whip him. Recently
a Texas steer ripped one to pieces.
According to tradition the lion's whelp
THE - RESIDENCE . SECTIoA op st PIERCE
g|i
is born dead and remains so for three
days, When the father breathes on it
and it receives life. Another tradition
is that the lion is the only animal of
the cat tribe born with its eyes open,
nnd it is said that it sleeps with its eyes
open. A lion is the emblem of the tribe
of J udali.
RULER OF THE WAVES.
—l'Tom Harper’s Weekly.
Another coronation that is taking
place in this country.
Why Philip Sobbed.
Little Philip was taken to. the sea
shore for a week and he enjoyed the
life immensely the first two days. He
ran around on the beach until his face
was sunburned and he was a bright red.
Then the skin began peeling off and
Itched dreadfully. His mother was
awakened at night by hearing the boy
sobbing. and she called to know what
was the matter.
“The paper is coming off try face.”
sobbed the little follow. New York
Times.
The man who is on the level ought
to get along smoothly.
MORE ERUPTIONS DUE
* FROM MONT PELEE
In an interview at Fort de France,
Martinique, J A. Jngger, Jr., assist
ant geologist to the United States
Geological Survey, who has been in
vestigating volcanic conditions in the
West Indies, said:
“The question has been constantly
asked me, ‘I)o you not think it is fin
ished now? Is not the danger over?’
I have always answered, ’The moun
tain at this moment appears calm, and
the dust columns that one sees from
time to time are largely due to land
slides from the crater into the head
Of Riviere Blanche. The eruption of
last night was to be expected. We
may expect many more before so hot
and vigorous a steam engine M Mount
Pelee comes to rest.’
“A diagnosis of the real diminution
in activity can only lie made after the
mountain has been watched a year and
all its movements recorded. After
watching events here since May 21<
I do not think a single habitation
northwest of the line from BeUefon
taiue to Vive is safe to live in at
present. I do not think that Car Set,
Funds St. Denis, Morne Rouge or
Basse Point.; are safe at present. Not
that there is any immediate danger,
but I believe that the action of Mont
Pelee is too uncertain for us to be as
sured that a future eruption may not
occur to windward.
“I know well that causing people to
move from all these villages and hab
itations will produee great inconvenl
enee, but the alternative is a risk of
human life. When the mountain is
entirely cold, and the people are pro
tected by a properly equipped experi
ment station, with devices to signal
danger, they may, with certain re
strictions. return to the volcanic lands.
No city should ever again, however, be
built ou the northeast end of the
island.
“I do not think that Fort de France
is In any danger from the volcano.
“Most of the towns in the West
Indies are equally iu danger from tidal
waves. It would take an explosion
from Mont Pelee of enormously
greater dimensions than anything that
has happened as yet to make a wave
which would de France.
"No evidence
violence iu the eruptlfflfr hitherto
which would lead to the supposition
that a Krakntoa explosion Is coming
here. In comparison Mont Pelee is
wm mmi
RUE VICTOR HUGO, THE PRINCIPAL
STREET OF ST. PIERRE.
rather a small volcano. This is all I
can say about danger.**
Capld Not Always Blind.
“Love." says the Manayunk Philos
opher, “isn't so blind that it cannot
see a dollar mark."—Philadelphia Rec
ord.
The importation of rubber by the
United States has grown in thirty
years from 53,300,000 to 530,000.000
per annum; fruits and nuts from $7,-
500,000 to $20,000,000; coffee, from
$24,000,000 to $70,000,000, while tea has
fallen from $514,000,000 to $0,000,000.
SEPTEMBER 7.
TWO GREAT CITIES.
§ydn®y to Ant.trip X.llniru and Be.
some Aaatrelta'* Matropoll®.
Melbourne has always been the larg
est city of Australia. In Its phenom
enal growth it can be compared only
with Chicago and San Francisco. Iu
1835 it had a name and fourteen in
habitants; In 1896 It contained 451.000
persons. Gold made Melbourne. Foi
ten consecutive years the gold mines
from sixty to one hundred miles to the
north and northwest produced over
550,000,000 of gold every year. The
inauy thousands of men required to
mine this treasure bought their sup
plies in Melbourne and spent their
money there. The city faced to the
north where the mines were; its back
door was on the sea.
But the gold mines of Victoria hare
lost their old Importance. They are
still productive, but tbelr yield is fa*
inferior to that of the desert mines
of western Australia. Melbourne is
slowly losing the largest resource thal
made her great, and the wool and
wheat trade Is not likely to fully com
pensate her for the declining mining
interests. The city was said In 1891
to have 490,896 population, including
the suburbs. Five years later only
451,000 persons were counted In the
city and its environs.
The decline In population is probably
only temporary. Many miners have
been drawn away by more flattering
prospects elsewhere, but they wll!
gradually be replaced by permanent
settlers. ~
The great city, however, seems des
tined soon to lose Its pre-eminence. •
Sydney is steadily increasing in popu- '
lntlon; by the last census It was only
42,000 under Melbourne's figures. Syd
ney is growing, while Melbourne is
scarcely bedding her own. There artj
a mi miter of reasons why Sydney wiljfl
probably forge ahead and permanently
maintain Its lead
cities. New York Run.
SXt.. ami ili. .VlmlnfatriLS
The present administration>9
fn flies, and Is lighting thetnjH
tli<- Department of AgrlrultilqlK
Howard, Chief of the D!vision qUfjBKI
tontology, is the general directing WU
campaign. Which is being
nt preseurehiefly by the distribution
pamphlets, telling about all sorts JPI
flies, their various habits and dattyStfl
ous propensities. For the better sttP, ■
of them 2300 were caught in klteb. a. M
nnd dining rooms in nil parts off
country and put on trial. Of tbef\*4(
nlhcty-clgbt per cent, were ccftnmtf t>
house flies. The bouse fly does not bitfcf
nor sting. The greatest danger from
him arises from his neglect to wipe his
feet. He will tramp over filth and
infected matter, and straightway track
his accumulation over anything that
any nearby family may be having for
dinner. It is easier to discourage
flies altogether than to teach them bet
ter habits. General-Entomologist How
ard talks of a war of extermination,
but the first and most practicable thing
to do is to teach people in general as
much as possible about flies; when and
where they breed and why they are
dangerous. It Is well known that
stables are great nurseries of files.
It seems hopeless to attempt to regu
late stables so that fifes won’t breed 10
them, but a good deal can Nt done by
the use of knowledge and of sense;
and where stables are so placed that
their flies are particularly annoying,
the use of chloride of lime will help
matters very much. The great central
truth about flies and the danger from
them seems to be, the cleaner the
place, the fewer files, and the less dan
ger from those that are there. Com
mon flies do not secrete poison; they
merely carry it. Don’t leave any poison
around where they can get at it Bnry
it; keep garbage in proper receptacles
and remove It promptly.—Harper’s
Weekly.
What Wealth Cannot Da.
Jacob Ridgeway, a wealthy Citizen
of Philadelphia, died many years ago,
leaving a fortune of 16,000.000. “Mr.
Ridgeway," said a young man, “you
are more to be envied than any gen
tleman I know. Think of the thou
sands your income brings you every
month!”
“Well, what of that?” replied Mr.
Ridgeway. “All I get out of It Is my
victuals and clothes, and I can’t eat
more than one man’s allowance or
wear iihjjs? than one suit at a time.
I can onjy live in one house at a time;
as for the money I receive for rents,
why, I can’t eat it, or wear it; I can
only use it to buy other bouses for
other people to live in; they are bene
ficiaries. not I. I can only look at the
futniture and pictures, and the poor
est man who Is not blind can do the
same. I can ride no easier In a fine
carriage than you in an omnibus for
five cents, with the trouble and atten
tion to drivers, footmen and hostlers,
and as to ’anything I desire’ I can tell
you, young man, that the less we de
sire in this world the happier we shall
be. All my wealth cannot buy back
my youth, cannot purchase exemption
from slcknesg and pain, cannot pro
cure me power to keep afar off the
hour of death; and then what will all
avail, when, in a few short years at
most, I lie down in the grave and leave
It ail forever? Young man, you have
no cause to envy me.”
Th® Sea Birds’ Cry.
The beauty of the sea birds’ cry Is
one entirely of suggestion; its appeal is
through the Imagination, not the
senses. Speaking in human terms, It
occupies musical ground ignored by
Mozart, appropriated by Wagner, And
Its suggestions are of desolate seas
and savage shores; of an eager, may
be Joyous life; but of one unlike that
of the wooodland songster, entirely
alien from and indifferent to our own.
—The Outlook.