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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.