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YORKVILLE ENQUlRli; ISSUED SEMI-WEEELT. l x. grists sons. Publisher. } % <Jfawl8 gercajjajrer: <Jfor th$ |romotion oj th* fnlttiqal, ?o<[ial, Sfinqalttt^al and (Communal Interests oj th* |eoj4. (TE.Sai2'^A/mcwm>yANCK ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, 8. C., TUESDAY, APRIL 20, 1909. NO. 32. U* AHA HAH AHA HAH AHA HAH i ! Heron' i 3 By ETTA V 3 tAH AHA HAH AHA HAH AHA HAH i CHAPTER XVI. Hazel Speaks Again. Another day, and yet another passed. ; Miss Carbury received no tidings of ] her purse and ring; and I none, alas! ] of my lost papers. Colonel Pit Rivers had not as yet returned to wousaen, i but was expected hourly. A new ser- I vant was appointed to watch at night < with our faithful Martin, but as Sir Griffin Hopewood found him stretched ' dead drunk on a garden seat, before 12 i o'clock had struck, we felt no addition- i al security from his presence. 1 "A singular epidemic of crime seems < abroad in this community," said the I professor. "And, indeed, news of small < thefts all about us, and rumors of larg- i er ones, filled the air. A general un- t easiness prevailed in the big country houses along the river. Sir Griffin, ( still hiding his passion under the mask f of civility, watched me with anxious ] eyes. "My darling," he whispered, stealing j Into the recess of a window, where I l had taken refuge from the after din- ? ner small talk that was going on in the i Wolfsden drawing room, "how pale you i look, how sad! One would think some enormous burden was pressing on your i spirits. Can it be that you are fright- t ened with all this trumpery talk of l thefts and robbers?" ( "No, no," I stammered, "It Is not that" ( "What then?" he urged, slipping an i arm about me. In the shadow of the \ curtain, and straining me to his strong 1 -,J- "T nn? lllra tn gna this shad- I OIUCT. A uv MV% ???W ow on your beauty. I hardly know 1 your great arch eyes, your witching ' red mouth In this guise of sadness." t "You think too much of my beauty," ( I said, half in jest, half in earnest. c "How can that be?" he answered in t good natured amaze. "It is a part of 1 yourself." < "Yes, but will It hold you to your a allegiance when?when?the truth shall ( be told?" I gasped, incoherently. Then my face drooped against his sleeve, i and a sob shook me. < "What do you mean, love?" murmur- 1 ed my lover, in sore distress. "Are you fretting because our engagement haw ^ t?A?n marlo in secret??does that trou- j ble you, pet? Ton my soul, r shall rejoice when Rivers comes back, and everybody at Wolfsden knows that you are to be my wife. Rest assured, your beauty- Is sufficient for anything:. Hazel?it will hold me like prison-fetters, forever. Why may I not love you for your sweet eyes, for the lustre in your hair?"?gathering a mass of crushed curls to his lips?"for the lilies on your cheek and throat? What is all this loveliness but a garment through which I see your soul, as the outlines of your body are visible through the dress you wear?" I felt a strange relief In this foolish talk. He had no suspicion of the thoughts In my heart. The moment of confession could not be far distant: but for any respite, however brief, I was thankful. Another besides Sir Griffin had observed my tell-tale looks. That night she came sliding: into my chamber, ' like a lovely ghost?her long, white i gown spread out behind her like a fan, and dropping into a seat, she extended I to me her bare, shining arms. "Confession is good for the soul, < Hazel," she said. "I have not been < so selfish in these past few days?so < absorbed in my own affairs?that I could not see you were suffering. Now, i out with it. dear!?tell me everything." . I sank in the soft rug at her feet, ' and buried my face in her lap. I could not withstand her searching, loving ( gaze?I could no longer conceal from l her my troubles. Whatever came. I i must tell Sergia: and then and there I did tell her everything that the reader already knows. i After my story, silence fell. Her ehlnln?. ormo hol/1 mn !r? a rlnaP embrace?her cheek pressed my hair i She was shivering unconsciously. i "Oh, you poor darling!" she said, at last, "It Is dreadful!?dreadful! I want you to be happy?you must be happy! Why should you suffer for your father's sins? We do not know Sir Griffin very well, I fear, nor can we comprehend the full height and depth of his pride. I am wicked enough to suggest that you remain silent concerning your family history. The baronet loves you for yourself alone. Keep your secret. Hazel?keep It always!" "But it is no longer my secret," I shuddered; "you forgot that it has left my keeping, Sergia. My mother's letter is lost?I know not into whose hands it may have fallen. No, no! the whole truth must be told, but how . can I find courage to tell it?" She fell to comforting me with sisterly tenderness. We went to sleep in each other's arms, as in the old days at school. Whatever evil might overwhelm me, in Sergia I possessed a friend who would never change. The following day the guests at Wolfsden went to lunch at a neighboring villa, occupied by a retired banker named Talcott, who was on very friendly terms with Colonel Rivers. Pere Talcott, bald-headed and pompous, welcomed us hospitably. Of the two daughters of the house, Proserpine. an ethereal Burne-Jones creature, wore a gown of unearthly green and yellow tints, and her Titian-red hair in a state of mad disorder. Gwendoline, the youngest sister, of a grosser type and less bony construction, sat next to me at lunch, and startled the table more than once with her boisterous "Ha! ha!" and her frank comments fired like hot shot, left and right. There was also a deaf aunt, who wielded an ear-trumpet, ate nothing but macaroons, and seemed composed of powder and rouge, and vanities too young for her by a half-century. "Does not Aunt Talcott remind you of a whlted sepulchre?" said Gwendoline in my ear. "Proserpine calls her kHA HAH AHA UAH AHA HAH AHA * SWlFE. j _ S 7. PIERCE. f s kHA HAH AHA HAH AHA HAH AHA The Remains. All the same, we are both lighting, tooth and nail, for a place In her will. En passant, Miss Ferrers, you have gone off horribly In your looks of late?you are actually as yel low as a wasp. It was not long before the conversation around the table turned, naturally enough, on the disturbed condition the neighborhood. "Bless my soul!" cried Pere Talcott, 'it seems that Francis Heron received i visit from burglars two_pr three nights ago: but in some wi he got ?-ind of their coming, and the-vascals, liscovering that he was prepared for :hem, ran off without attempting mis:hief. Lucky for Heron, that!?he had i good sum of money fn the house at :he time." "Cowardly Deasis: saia uie uvcijr Gwendoline. "Had I known of the danger, I would have gone to the help of Heron and that handsome parson, Mr. Vivian. I shot a deer In the Adl ondacks last summer?why not burgars, this season, at Blackwater? I ilways, sleep with a six-shooter under ny pillow, though paw objects to its lse on general principles." "Gwen's aim frequently becomes proniscuous," exclaims "paw," "and then ihe riddles things. Well, we, too, have lad a narrow escape, here at the villa. Dur butler Collins" "He was heavenly!" interpolated 3wen, in high excitement; "equal to inything English! I could cry aloud vhen I think of that dreadful, delight'ul creature!" "Don't mix your adjectives so reckessly, Gwln," remonstrated "paw." 'As I was saying, Collins seemed a rusty fellow; but just heaven! what lo you think? Two nights ago, a slip >f paper was thrown into the porch, icrawled over with these words: 'Colins is a scoundrel and a traitor. Look >ut for the contents of the plate closet it the foot of the stair.' Of course I Iiscnargea tne man ? "And he swore at. paw, till the air vas blue!" cried Gwen, "which we sonsldered positive proof that the felow had designs on the plate." "If I knew the party who wrote the varnlng, and saved the silver," piped \unt Talcott, with her ear-trumpet estlng raklshly on the curve of Sir jriffln Hopewood's arm, "I would send ilm my photograph." Gwen Talcott turned her attention suddenly to me. "Do you read the newspapers, Miss Ferrers?" she asked, as she attacked in aspic of foie gras. "I, for one, dote lpon all blood-curdling things. Now. :here was that robbery of bonds and securities at the Bullion Bank a few lays ago?. Is it possible that you do lot drink champagne??what a prude! I dare say you belong to the Blue Ribwn Society? Well, nothing bolder ever lappened in New England, paw says. -.1 j__ - * J _ 11 on/4 i nousanus 01 uuimis suuu|CU up, auu :he only wise ones, the gobblers themselves, who got safely off with their booty, and are now circulating about In our very midst, perhaps, unknown tnd unmolested." "That Bullion Bank affair," said Pere ralcott, meditatively, "reminds me of a similar crime that occurred at too Hub a good many years ago?well, before the young people at this table were out of their alphabet. The leader of the business was an accomplished scoundrel?his name, if my memory serves me right, was Langstroth. tie nad an accomplice, a weaaer vessel. who afterward killed himseif m jail. The booty was recovered. Langtroth got ten years at hard labor. Both men were well educated, well lonnected?one had married a young girl of great wealth and social position. Gracious heaven! Look at Miss Ferrers?she's fainting!" The table, with its lustre of plate and damask and old Nankin porcelain, its flowers and Venetian glass, spun round and round before my falling sight. I heard a cry of mingled grief and alarm from Sergla Pole, and then Sir Griffin snatched me up, and carried me to a sofa. "It was the heat!" cried Sergia, de fiantly. "And those dreadful stories!! added Gwen Talcott. I begged Miss Carbury to take me home. Sir Griffin, regardless of appearance, hurried away with us. I knew that the hour of fate had struck for me. In the Chestnut Walk at Wolfsden, where my lordly lover had first talked to me of love, I sat down on a garden chair and began to trace figures blindly on the gravel with the tip of my parasol. Sir Griffin hurried to my side, his bonny Saxon face full of tender apprehension. "Leave us alone," I said to Miss Carbury; and she went away up the walk without a word. I turned and looked at my lover. "My darling." he began. In a troubled voice, "what gave you that sudden turn ?" "The stories," I answered, "as Gwen Talcott said?particularly that one about the scoundrel Langstroth, wno robbed the bank. It was very unpleasant, was it not?" "Abominable!" assented Sir Griffin. "Do not touch me!" I cried, as he suddenly stretched out his arms to gather me to his heart. "Do not look at me! I ought to cry 'Unclean!' like the lepers of old. Here?take back Lady Hope wood's ring!" and I tried to draw It from my hand. "Let no one know that you have stooped to seek me for a wife?that you have disgrac ed yourself by wooing1 the daughter of a felon. Yes. it is quite true Langstroth's accomplice?the man who killed himself in jail to escape punishment ?was my father!" There was an appalling silence?how long it continued I know not?perhaps one moment, perhaps twenty. My tragic earnestness left no room for doubt or question. I had told the story so far as it needed to be told. Presently he staggered back a step. I heard him walk away down the drive. Lady Hopewood's ring: was still on my hand; I fumbled weakly at It, but could not draw It off. As the victim waits for the ax of the executioner, as Damlens waited for his awful death-day, I sat there, shuddering speechless, almost breathless. Suddenly he turned about, he was coming back!?his step had a swift, determined ring on the gravel. He knelt at my side. With a groan he buried his face in the folds of my dress. "Love! Love! You have conquered!" he panted. "Hear It all!" I urged, wildly. "I have no right to the name of Ferrers? that belonged to my mother, before she fled with my wicked father; and the ncn, cilstinguisnea juuge, ui wuwiu you have heard, has never acknowledged me aa his granddaughter. The blood of a felon contaminates the Ferrers stream. My real name"? "Stop!"' he Implored; "for God's sake, tell me nothing more! Oh, my darling, I do not deny that I am shocked, horrified!?that if I obeyed the voice of prudence and Judgment, I should fly from you; but my heart clamors too loudly?I cannot! You sorceress! what have you done to me? Give you up? Impossible! I care not who or what you are! I can well afford to sacrifice pride, prejudice, even reason, if I may have you!" This, after days and nights of doubt, fear. desDair! Joy does not kill?oth erwlse, I could not have looked Into the bonny blue eyes which he raised to mine, and lived; for by the passion burning there I knew that my lover still loved me?that, In spite of the shame and misery of the confession I had made, my happiness was yet secure. "I shall carry you far away," he said, "where your story will never be known. My name will shield and protect you. We will forget any shadow that may hang about your past?we will never speak again of your birth or your people?we will allow no sins, either of + nr llvlnir in onmp hpfwppn us. Great God! as well ask my heart to stop beating as to renounce your imagre! I have set up my idol, and I must worship It!" He spoke In a wild, fevered way, as though. In answer to some protesting voice within himself. And as he knelt there, clasping me in his strong arms, his uplifted face all pale and agitated, a shadow fell upon us both. We looked, and lo! not three yards distant, in the Chestnut Walk, regarding us blankly, breathlessly, stood Colonel Rivers and Sergia Pole. \ A frown darkened the colonel's bearded face. With contracted brows, he advanced a step toward Sir Griffln. The latter leaped to his feet. "Thank heaven! You are here at last. Rivers!" he cried. "Wish me joy! Miss Ferrers has consented to become my wife! I have been waiting only for your return, to make our engage I [If 111 puuuw. Sergla uttered a little cry. The thunderous frown lifted from the colonel's face?with his own frank, genial smile he held out one hand to the baronet, the other to me. "My dear Sir Griffin, accept my warmest congratulations!" he cried. "I always know you to be a person of excellent taste. Who could have dreamed that our demure little Hazel would capture a prize, for which older and wiser women have long been plotting?" He pinched my cheek In a teasing way. "Like Tennyson's young man, Sir Griffin believes that " 'A simple maiden in her flower Is worth an hundred coats of arms.' Eh, dear fellow?" "You cannot doubt, Rivers," answered the baronet, in a simple, earnest way, "that I love Miss Ferrers most deeply and disinterestedly. I wish to marry at an early day, and sail for i England in the autumn. As you know, | Hazel has no relatives, no friends, to consult save yourself and Miss Pole." He seemed to stand there betwixt me and my miserable history?betwixt me and all the want and uncertainty of my future?a man whom any woman might love?rich, titled, generous. At that moment I adored him! Sergla's eyes grew moist and bright with approval. She knew the full height and depth of the sacrifice he was making, and she put out her hand to him with a dazzling smile. "I, too, congratulate you!" she said. "Hazel Is as dear to me as a sister. It will be my pleasure and privilege to give her a suitable dowry. Do not think, Sir Griffin, that you are to wed a penniless bride. Half of all that I possess shall be hers." Colonel Rivers looked a little blank, but she turned upon him In a gay, peremptory way. "Prepare to give me a great deal of money, guardyi" she cried. "I am very rich, so you need not look so dismayed. Hazel's dot must be in proportion to the love I bear her." "My dear Sergia, don't you think that you are a trifle extravagant in your affection for Hazel?" he said, playfully. "No, indeed, guardy! She deserves a far deeper devotion that I can give." "Well, I've but just reached home, you know, after an absence of several days, and there are many things demanding my immediate attention. Let us defer the subject of settlements till another time, my dear, and content ourselves with presenting the future Lady Hopewood to our friends and guests." We went up to the house. On the way. Sergia whispered: "You have told Sir Griffin everything?" "Yes," I answered. "Ah, what a glad, fortunate day! I met my guardian just as he was entering the gate. His return, at this particular moment, seems doubly delightful. You see. darling Hazel, that you are destined to be happy, in spite of everything!" As we entered the drawing room, everybody flew to meet Colonel Rivers? joyfully hailing his sudden appearance. A general hubbub of welcome followed. Mrs. Van Wert, all smiles and blushes, lifted soft, wistful eyes to the face of her host, and said: "Wolfsden has been a howling wilderness since you went away, colonel. We are all quite ready to quarrel with that foreign friend. Dr. Bird, who has kept you so long from us." He laughed softly. By his brown, strong, triumphant look, we could see that he had found both pleasure and profit in the company of his friend. "It is always delightful for a man to know that he Is missed from his own fireside," he said to Mrs. Van Wert. "Dr. Bird detained me beyond my expectations, but all the time my heart was at Wolfsden!" with one of those melting: glances which had before convinced me that Colonel Pitt Rivers was a confirmed male flirt. He made haste to present me to the company as ths future Lady Hopewood. I was t o agitated to remember all that was si.id, but everybody congratulated me with great _ kindness. Poor Miss Carbury, overcome with amazement, whispered In my ear: "Why, my dear, whoever would have thought it? What a strange choice for Sir Griffin Hopewood! The whims of men are incomprehensible! All the same, child, I hope from my heart that you may be happy." I was glad to carry my confusion into a corner, while the other guests surrounded the colonel, and began to relate all that had happened in his ab ? *U sence. wiin mingieu wro.ni emu amazement, he listened to the story of the recent robberies. "Good heaven!" he cried; "Is it possible that the Blackbirds have dared to enter my house and rob my guests? And no person has yet been apprehended for the outrage? Verily, it is time for me to be at Wolfsden again!" "To me it all seems like a stupendous, practical Joke," said Mrs. Van Wert, with an arch look. "Now, nobody has molested me, colonel, though I am sure it is no secret that I have a great many diamonds with me at Wolfsden. My room is near Miss Carbury's, and about money and Jewels I am sadly careless. I cannot imaging why the Blackbirds should have passed me by." "One would think, Mrs. Van Wert, + vaii falf mil to qdvHpvaH fi t VOUr escape," Sergia said, laughing. The colonel too, looked highly amused. "Not even a Blackbird could find It in his heart to rob you," he murmured In the ear of the charming widow. He assured Miss Carbury that he would take Immediate measures to recover her lost property, and bring the thief to justice. . "My dear colonel," she answered, cheerfully. "I feel more than positive that you will find the rogue, and at once! Now that you are back at Wolfsden, there can be nothing more for any of us to fear." And Indeed, his coming seemed to brln&r instant security and peace to the house. He gayly rallied the professor and Sir Griffin upon their failure to protect the ladies in his absence, and made us all feel that he was, in truth, the strength and safeguard of Wolfsden. In the importance of his return, even my engagement with Sir Griffin Hopewood dwindled to a merely commonplace event. "Ladies," he said, as he sat in the midst of his admiring guests, "I have a proposal to make, as an offset to all the disagreeable things that you have suffered in my absence. You know our Black River neighbors have been exceedingly friendly_ and hospitable?w^j, have received numDeriess attentions, for which I feel that I must make some suitable return. Now, I propose to give a ball here at Wolfsden, and invite all our new friends on the river, and as many others from town as the place will contain." "A ball at a country house?oh, delightful!" cried the ladles, In a breath. "Such a pleasant change from the Blackbirds!" Everybody fell to discussing the matter. Colonel Rivers crossed the room to a sofa, where Sergia was sitting by my side, and said, in his kindest tone: "I depend upon you to outshine all other lights at my ball, Sergia. Order whatever you will, for Hazel and yourself. Miss Carbury will be only too glad to assist In making you both superlatively lovely. The future Lady Hopewood," patting my cheek, "will be a very great personage, for Sir Grlf fln has manors and town houses, and a rent roll as long: as his Own pedigree. To be sure," dropping his voice a little, "he has also an unfortunate weakness for cards and dice, but a wife whom he loves will, doubtless, cure him of that nonsense." If Sergla had a fault, It was her extreme frankness. "Guardy," she answered, "It Is said that you have won large sums 'from Sir Griffin here at Wolfsden?that you play with him constantly." He stared, then smiled. "Servants' gossip!" he replied. "Certainly I play with him, since his passion for gaming demands Indulgence everywhere ana at all times. t$ui, my child, you cannot think that I, his friend and host, would keep my winnings. No, I return them always to his purse." Luckily, Sir Griffin was talking with Mrs. Van Wert on the other side of the room?out of earshot. What defense would he have made If he had heard the conversation? I felt a little dismayed at the colonel's revelation of my lover's weakness, and a genuine admiration for Pitt Rlvers's amazing kindness. It was not strange that everybody loved and admired the man. After we had dined that day, the colonel held a court of Inquiry In his library, and carefully examined the servants of the house In regard to the robbery, i chanced to pass the open door on my way to the garden, and with the curiosity of my sex, I paused an instant to look in. Mrs. Steele was stationed by the colonel's chair, her spectacles nicely adjusted to her long, thin nose, her gray puffs all In order. Jael, the waiting maid, evidently much out of temper, stood before the two, undergoing some sharp questioning. Her dark face looked / pale and sullen; she kept her eyes (fixedly on the floor. \ * "I hear bad reports of you, Jael," the colonel was saying, in a voice so stern that I hardly recognized it. "Amazing and perilous reports! You must change vour nresent course at once, or be sent away from Wolfsden, to the punishment which you richly deserve. I have instructed Mrs. Steele to watch you closely?to keep you indoors after night fall?to look well to the companions you choose; in fact, you may consider yourself under strict surveillance. Do you understand?" Jael's lips were like a gray thread. She slowly lifted her eyes?looked Colonel Rivers darkly, defiantly In the face. "Yes, sir, I understand!" "Then be careful what you do in the future, for sharp eyes are upon you. That is all?go!" She went a few steps; then turned A about, like lightning, and something whizzed through the air, and stuck In the wall of the library, just behind Mrs. Steele's head. ^ A pair of scissors, long, bright and sharp as needles. The two murderous looking points vibrated In the wood r work not an inch from the housekeep- c er's elaborate gray puffs. Mrs. Steele a uttered a cry?whether of fear or an- n ger, I could not determine, but Jael had t alwiAi4v A n a A Kw mo and nraa [TAno ? CVI> WHJ J UH4 1VU V/ "?! ?? ? O I g up the stair. Colonel Rivers arose to s his feet. h "A very narrow escape, Mrs. Steele," e he said, lightly, as he pulled the scis- f sore from the wall; "but a miss is as good as a mile. That girl has bad blood c In her veins. If I did not pity her be- j cause of her hereditary taint, I would e not retain her another hour in my g ward's service." J Startled, shocked, I turned fiom my a post of observation and fled to the gar- r den. What was the mystery hanging y about poor Jael? What the heredlta- c ry taint that the colonel had mention- a ed? Plainly the girl hated Mrs. Steele \ even more than I did. With my mind d full of her dark, sullen looks, I strolled it down to the gate at Wolfsden, and paused there, gazing out into the C brown, still twilight. n mi-- At *U - AM AUa Anok. +1 a lie 1111/ lumps ui me mv-juco i.aou- ?,< ed !n and out of the shrubbery. A fi gray bat's wing fanned my hair. I o had ceased to think of my stolen pa- h pers?the principal secret which they held was now told, and could no longer ii affect my happiness. But as I leaned c against the entrance post, the lost II documents were suddenly brought back d to my memory by the sight of a trap 1 passing, just then, the gate of Wolfs- h den. With a very unpleasant thrill, I o recognized Francis Heron. fi He was holding the lines. By his e side sat an old man, ashen, feeble, but of distinguished appearance, with a ? costly carriage rug wrapped about his tl figure, as a protection from the even- C lng damp. 1 Remembering my last meeting with h Heron?remembering how. In that same vehicle, he had brought me through n the dark to Wolfsden, after my fruitless visit to Sal Bagley's cottage, I w drew back from the entrance post, and ? in hot embarrassment, turned to fly. But he had already discovered me. h Promptly he lifted his hat. The old man saw me also. As the 11 carriage came abreast of the gate, I 1 heard him say, in a high, Imperative 0 voice: ? "Who Is that girl?" n With equal distinctness, Francis 11 Heron answered, dryly: n "Your granddaughter, Hazel Fer- t] rers!" v Then I knew that the man who had (~ disowned me long before, and left me to the world's mercy?the autocrat n judge, with the heart of flint?had come 8 to be a guest at Heroncroft. To be Continued. miTu TUC PEET V b Wins Forgiveness From Woman Whose t Gown He 8oiled. r The boy In the car sat cuddled so r close to the woman In gray, says the b New York Sun, that everybody thought t he belonged to her, so when he un- " consciously dug his muddy shoes into G the broadcloth skirt of his left-hand o neighbor she leaned over and said: "Pardon me, madam, will you kindly n make your little boy square himself I around? He is soiling my skirt with h his muddy shoes." c TVn* urnmon In crro \r hliinhprl A llttlo t! and nugged the boy away. "My boy?" she said. "My goodness, I he Isn't mine!" o The boy squirmed uneasily. He was ii such a little fellow that he could not begin to touch his feet to the floor, so o he stuck them out straight in front c of him like pegs to hang things on and r looked at them deprecatingly. li "I'm sorry I got your dress dirty," n he said to the woman on his left. "I t: hope it will brush off." d The timidity in his voice took a 1; short cut to the woman's heart and she f smiled upon him kindly. d "Oh, it doesn't matter," she said, g Then as his eyes were still fastened p upon hers she added. "Going uptown?" "Yes, ma'am," he said. "I always s go alone. There isn't anybody to go v with me. Father's dead and mother's * dead. I live with Aunt Clara over in t T)?AAl>latM K?<4 nVirt oairo A urtf Anna T* DI WWIMJ1I, UUl OIIC DO.j a 4~*u??b ought to help do something for me, so e once or twice a week when she gets s tired out and wants to go some place o to get rested up she packs me off over tl here to stay with Aunt Anna. I'm going up there now. Sometimes I don't A find Aunt Anna at home, but I hope d she will be home today, because It looks b like It Is going to rain and I don't like P to hang around in the street In the b rain." d The woman felt something move In- ^ side her throat and she said: "You are d a very little boy to be knocked about tl in this way," rather unsteadily. ? "Oh, I don't mind," he said. "I nev- d er get lost. But I get lonesome sometimes on these long trips and when I c %- - -a? i?-.i T iUI-1. T? J 111-- A- n see anyooay umi i mum i u une iu uc long to I Scrooge up close to her so I fl can make believe that I really am her h little boy. This morning I was play- 0 lng that I belonged to that lady on the other side of me and I got so in- r t'sted that I forgot all about my feet. v That Is why I got your dress dirty." c The woman put her arm around the tiny chap and "scrooged" him up so a close that she hurt him and every oth- v er woman who had overheard his art- c less confidence looked as if she would a not only let him wipe his shoes on her ^ best dress, but would feel like spank- 'f lng him if he didn't. 0 _ r For Downs and Outs.?"A place 11 where the despondent and the des- p pairing may receive free treatment a has been opened by the Revue de ^ Medlcin at Geneva, under the management of a wealthy religious scien- c tlst, who Is assisted by a sister. In 0 speaking of the enterprise the Ber- v liner Tageblatt says: "The laudable * undertaking seems to have only one a defect that Is a serious one. The of- 11 flee is to be open only on Thursdays d between 6 and 7 o'clock. The peo- 1 pie who are threatened with despair b or despondency must have a care that t! the attack does not come on some other day or hour. In other words, p despair on Thursday between 6 and 7 o'clock, can be cured; at any other time?suffer the consequences.' tl pfcattaneou? parting. THE GOLD RU8H OF 1859. Vhen "Pike's Peak or Bust" Was the Cry of 50,000 Men. On May 7 Colorado will commemoate the fiftieth anniversary of the disovery of gold in the Rocky MountJns. At the same time occurs the anilversary of a more remarkable event, he discovery of gold that started the xeat Pike's Peak stampede of gold eekers In 1859, when In the nelghborlood of 50,000 fortune hunters crossd the great plains In search of quick ortune. The discovery Colorado is about to elebrate was made by George W. ackson in April, 1859, near the presnt site of Idaho Springs, on a small tream tributary to South Clear creek, ackson at once returned to Denver nd organized a company made up of esldents of Denver and Chicago to rork the gold field. The concern was ailed the Chicago Mining company nd the stream Chicago creek. On lay 7, 1869, the company began the evelopment of the first paying depos:s of gold In the Rocky Mountains. The other discovery was made by !apt. John H. Gregory, a Georgia liner, on May 6 In Gregory Guicn, in he district of Clear Creek, not very ax from Idaho, while he was bound verland to the Fraser River diggings i British Columbia. Exactly when gold was first found 1 the Rocky Mountains cannot be asertained, but there is no doubt that a presence was known long before the dtes given. A. Pike Vasques, who in 836 was a trader in the employ of is uncle, Col. Smith, at Smith's Fort n the Arkansas river not very far rom Denver, declared that in those any a ays ne Dougni goia ausi irum he Indians and Mexicans at $2.60 an unce. Other discoveries of gold in he Pike's Peak district were made on iherry creek and the Platte river in 858 by a party of Georgia miners eaded by W. Green Russell, who setled on the present site of Denver and amed the place Auraria after a little awn In the gold fields of Georgia near rhere the United States branch mint f Dahlonego formerly was situated. While reports of the finding of gold ad reached the frontier towns from Ime to time in 1868, it was not until he discovery made by Gregory in 859 that the real goia rever Drone ut. The Gregory And started the rst stampede from Denver, and the ews spread back to the states, and hen began the "Pike's Peak or Bust" ilgration, which caused once more he great overland trails to blossom /lth the life that characterized the !allfornla stampede of '49. The Pike's Peak gold fields soon had o lack of press agents, and they howed ability In the manner In which tey boomed the district. Just when ousands of adventurers on foot, with landcarts and all sorts of conveyances, /ere setting out for the new Eldorado r-ttne of stage eeaches was established etween Leavenworth and Denver by he Republican river route. The first eturn coach from the gold fields arived at Leavenworth on May 21, 1859, earing $3,600 worth of gold dust. On he side of the coach was the legend: The Gold Mountains of Kansas Send ireeting to Her Commercial Metroplis!" The Pike's Peak press agents had othing on their contemporaries in <eavenworth. The latter met the gold iden coach at the outskirts of the ity with another coach,, on which was he sign: "Leavenworth Hears the Echo From ler Mineral Mountains and Sends It n the Wings of Lightning to a Listenng World!" So optimistic were the newspapers t the gold fields that they irritated ertain gold seekers, wno instead or eallzlng their expectations of extractng gold by the scoopful got absolutely othlng for their long and arduous ramp across the great plains. The Isgruntled prospectors suggested the inching of the editors whose strong aith in the future of the Pike's Peak lstrict and vivid description of the old fields had drawn many on what roved a wild goose chase. These suggestions were made In uch good faith that the little shanty yhlch housed the Rocky Mountain lews, Denver's pioneer paper, was nrnert intn an arsenal. The editor had evolvers within easy reach on the dltorlal table and the compositors tacked rifles and shotguns alongside f the cases at which they were setIng type. The Rocky Mountain News was the ,rst paper issued in the Pike's Peak istrict, but it beat out a rival outfit y only a few hours. The other pa>er, the Cherry Creek Pioneer, owned y John H. Merrick, had arrived eight ays in advance of the plant of the rews, but had lost time In getting uner headway. The printing outfit of he News reached Denver by prairie chooner on April 21, 1859, about sunown. Before midnight the press was up, ases In place and type being set. The ten worked all the first night, except or an interr.ission of a couple of ours, all the next day and at 10 'clock on the night of April 22, twenp-eight hours after the outfit had eached its destination, the first copies fere run off in the presence of a large rowd of citizens. The editor and printers of the News te and slept in the one room in - hich they got out the paper, and a onstant lookout had to be kept for ttacks by desperadoes. Col. William I. Byers, the editor, denounced the itter, and threats flew his way furlusly. On one occasion several men ode up to the office and opened fire on t. The office force laid down their lenclls and sticks, took up snoiguns nd revolvers and responded with a usllade. Another Pike's Peaker who also ame near suffering seriously for his ptlmlsm was D. C. Oakes, who had /rltten a pamphlet lauding the counry. He had returned to the states for sawmill and on his way back to the mountains met a returning band of lsgusted "Pike's Peak or Busters." 'hey immediately talked lynching, urned his mill and other things, but hey finally let up on him. As Oakes got further on toward the eak he found on the prairie a souveIr which Indicated the sentiments of he disappointed gold seekers toward him. This consisted of a newly made grave dug near the trail with a headboard made of the polished shoulderblade of a buffalo?in those days a favorite bulletin board for the overlanders?on which had been written this epitaph: Here lies the body of D. C. Oakes Killed for aiding the Pike's Peak hoax. Notwithstanding the line presswork of the frontier newspapers there still lingered much doubt in the east as to the true state of affairs at Pike's Peak. In an effort to discover the actual conditions Horace Greeley set out for a tour of the gold fields and other western points in 1859. Denver City was a busy place at that time, gambling and drinking being not the' least of Its industries. Mr. Greeley made his first speech in the great gambling and drinking saloon of me uenver xiuubc, uunug iu? uuum of which, in deference to the eastern visitor, it Is saJd the tipplers at the bar silently sipped their grog, while on the other side the gamblers respectfully suspended the shuffling of cards and the counting of money. Mr. Greeley, standing in the midst of this assemblage, made a vigorous and characteristic address, in which he said many things against gambling and drinking, but his remarks were received by the Pike's Peakers with the utmost good humor. It is a tradition that the boomers resolved that there should be no mistake about the first mine to be shown IU nil . VJ1 CCICJ 1IIV/ wviu V.HV M ?.r In Gregory Gulch that Mr. Greeley was on the way, so the boys'took an old gun and flred gold dust into a partly worked mine favorably located In the gulch until it had the richness of a Golconda. Upon the arrival of Mr. Greeley they showed him some gold that had just been panned out of this mine.- Mr. Greeley called for a shovel and pan, rolled up his sleeves, and went down Into the pit. He was instructed as to the process of panning, and followed this coaching with such good results that In the bottom of the pan was soon developed paying color. He was en J kn CUURIKCU IU liy again, nuiwu uv u?u with equally gratifying results. Then he gathered the dust in a bag and said: "Gentlemen, I have worked with my own hands and seen with my. own eyes, and the news of your rich discovery shall go all over the world as far as my paper can carry It" The earnestness of Mr. Greeley's recommendations that the Pacific railroad be built was no doubt developed In part by the personal hardships and discomforts experienced by him on his tour of observation. Just before reaching Denver the mules attached to his coach ran away, upsetting the vehicle on a steep bank. Prom the mass of wreckage Mr. Greeley finally emerged, with blood flowing from cuts in cheek, arm and leg, "dui nis race was serene and benignant as a May morning." It was some time before he fully recovered from this accident, and he was compelled to stop in a bare and cheerless cabin in-Denver for several days in order to recuperate, the single luxury of the establishment being a "mattress" resting upon Blats laid across from one log to another." Living was pretty costly in the Pike's Peak days. Eggs cost $2.50 a dozen; dour sold at $20 a hundred pounds and milk at 50 cents a quart. In the summer of 1859 the chief currency of Denver and vicinity was regular United States money. There was nn iinr>r?lnpd sold in circulation. Soon all this form of money disappeared and Its place was taken by gold dust. Every counter bore a pair of scales and payment was made In gold dust. This was carried In buckskin bags, and after an article had been bought the customer handed over his bag of dust, and the storekeeper weighed out the required amount. The regular charge for a drink of whisky was eight grains of dust. While the great stampede of gold seekers headed for Pike's Peak, and the fields everywhere were known un der that name, still as a mauer 01 *mn gold for some time was not found within a good many miles of the famous mountain. The first discoveries on Cherry Creek were fully seventy-flve miles from the peak; those in Gregor" Gulch and along Clear Creek were still further away. Then the placer mines were found 'n the South Park and in Georgia Gulch, somewhat closer to the peak. The rosiest anticipations of the early boomers of the Pike's Peak gold field were vindicated in time. The gold was there, but it required more strenuous efforts to get at the bulk of it than the mere scratching of the beds of the creeks or the manipulation of a n?n. On December 23, 1859, the re port of the Director of the Mint at Philadelphia showed that there had been received at the establishment from the fields of Pike's Peak gold dust to the value of $202,250.79, and the total production of gold in Colorado up to January 29, 1863, was estimated at $10,000,000. But this amount is small in comparison with the production of the quartz mines of later years, which now yield yearly in the neighborhood of $25,000,000. Skilled as were the California and Georgia miners who first discovered and developed the Pike's Peak district, yet evidently they did not recognize the indications of any other metal than gold. It was clearly shown afterward that certain of the quartz that they worked contained as much ?? on/1 VBt thlS as (o per ueui ui J was all swept away, the miners being on the lookout only for gold. In 1360 the famous California Gulch began to yield- its millions in gold, the busy miners digging up and washing every accessible portion of the bottom, which yielded something like $1,000,000 each summer. Every bit of California Gulch's entire length of 33,000 feet was developed and there was at *i ? no-tuiinno atfaot nlnncr the UIIC 11X11*7 a LUIIUIlUUUu ? a stream on the banks of which is now situated the city of Leadville. The real richness of the Leadville territory had been overlooked. A great deal of trouble had been experienced by the placer miners along California Gulch on account of the excessively heavy boulders that they were compelled to move about in the bed of the stream in order to get at the pay dirt underneath. It wns not until 1878 that the weight of these boulders was found to be due to the presence of large proportions of lead carrying silver. The original discoverers did not make known their find until they had secured titles to a number of locations in California Gulch and the adjoining hills that covered the main lodes, one of which in places was found to be ten feet thick. This was the beginning of the development of lead and silver that made the Leadville district famous.? New York Sun. After It Was Writtan Thar* Waa Nothing Mora to B* 8aid. Dear Jack: Yea?I will marry you. It see ma to be "the aaieat way"?and besides I Intended to ail alone. You have "won me by siege and taken me by storm," but it's been awfully hard work making you do it The most difficult problem a girl has to face in these days is how to make a man force her to marry him. Yet every woman yearns to be taken in a rush to conquest?instead of Just taken for granted or as a matter of course. She wants something to remind her of the fact that her husband proposed to her besides the rlng and the certificate, which are all most women have. And yet, when 1 think .of how beautiful you made love to me, it does seem almost a pity to marry a fascinating man like you and transform him from an artistic lover into an ordinary. prosaic husband. Tour life has been such a "labor of love" from early youth that I can't help pitying all the nice girls whom I am depriving of the delicious experience of being flirted with by you. I wonder if every girl who marries a popular and attractive man realises tuhof a nmal .hlnir aha la Snln* tn har sex by monopolizing him. It seems almost as wicked as cornering wheat or forming a love trust A really ideal lover like you is so rare In these days that he ought to be divided up and passed around just as far as he will go. Considering the scarcity of husbands, it looks almost "piggish" for one woman to have a whole live man all to herself. Do you really want me to marry you "at once?" That is rushing into it dear Jack?but I suppose that most people would never marry at all If they didn't grit their teeth and shut their eyes and rash into it Getting married is something like walking a tightrope or turning a handspring in the air; if you atop to consider it you simply can't go on! It's the "Dip of Death" In Life's circus! And the only way to take it is to seat yourself in fate's automobile and keep your eyes on the stars, while you go plunging down. Tou know you are going to get an awful jolt, but if you Just hold tight and don't think about it you may land safely on the sawdust in the end and go rolling along comfortably forever afterwards. . What are we marrying for, Jack? Do you know? Of course not; nobody ever does until it is all over and then nobody remembers. They are just fascinated by the glittering on love's gold brick and the shimmer on the honeymoon and they refuse to scrape off the flit and see what's underneath. But nobody -can call ours a marriage of convenience, at any rate?because there Isn't going to be any convenience in .that little two by four apartment, where the clothes closets are just dents In the wall and the chiffonier is lighting with the trunk for breathing room and the rugs are treading on one another's skirts and the pictures elbowing one another off the walla Tet Just for this (and the privilege of paying bills) you are giving up a comfy bachelor flat and your lndependr ence and your latch key and your clubs, and I am giving up the family home and my own name and all my flirtations and most of my opinions. It's a pity?but tnen, it i aian i marry you, somebody else would?and If you didn't marry me some other man might. That's why we are marrying one another?that's why everybody married?not In order to get a particular person, but In order to keep anybody else from getting him or ber; not because they can't get along bet- . ter with somebody, but because they can't get along without him or her. It's the dog-ln-the manger spirit In us. A' well! This is probably the last love letter I ever shall write you? since we are to be married. Hereafter, I suppose, my communications will read, "Do-come-home-mother-sen dslove-Harold-needs-shoes the cook is vnnr? will he confined to the simple but striking expression, "Inclosed-find-check." Good-bye, sweetheart, I hate to exchange you for a husband, but the deal Is on and the bargain struck, and we'll meet at the altar and draw up the papers?and sign away our birthrights for a mess of matrimonial pottage. The scene will be set like the third act of a Clyde Fitch drama, and the orchestra will play between acts, and the bridesmaids and the best man will go through their little parts, and everybody will send us something we don't want, and they'll stuff rice in your hat and throw old shoes after us, HKKnna nn Aiir tminlr* and after all la said and done, well Just be helpmates Instead of soul mates. It Is very sweet of ybu to offer to tell me all about youraelf, dear?but don't I don't want anything to think about when I wake up nights. I don't believe In confessions between man and wife; they may be exhilarating for the moment but they are apt to leave me with a bad taste In the memory. If you've got a past keep it and Just leave your future to ME.?Greenvilla Monro % The Pathos Went Wrong.?Irving Bacheller, the novelist, is of unusually agreeable appearance and address. Once when he was a reporter on a New York morning newspaper the Sunday editor said to him. "I want you to write me a good story about the trials and discouragements of men who are looking for work In a big city. Get up early tomorrow, put on some old clothes and visit all the places that advertise for male help in the morning paper. Give an account of the number of applicants and the kind of men they are, and describe vl" Idly the feelings of a poor devil who, perhaps, has had no breakfast and has walked miles because he hasn't got carfare, and then meets disappointment after disappointment. Draw It good and strong on the pathos. People like to read that sort of thing." At noon the next day Mr. Bacheller appeared at the office crestfallen. "I'm afraid I can't make anything out of that story," he said to the Sunday editor. "What's the trouble?" "I've got three jobs already and a promise of two more."