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Tke Maiden’s Oaih s “My band take; bear the are nothin® loath. m " w*&< -r w • yw y° n? , love? As IfTooUld though I would! that time should mimic hopeless phrase, “Too m you, love thst he could do my heart from thought of r absence were so great should whisper, -Be my mate,’ ;« mm* mere madness of Love's it* I’d seem to yield to his desire. - - • ■ • — “Yet when he’d wrought his utmost will, Oh». think you not that I’d be yours I should not for you wait ou I should not for y Syslum’s beryl gate? m the treadmill of despair. “WHh gfsnoes weaving holy spells, Like to the blessed Damosei’s,' I, bending o’er the heavenly steep, Would snatch you, tear yon from that -“Uplift yoo^ with sins unconfessed, Uplift yog, press you to my breast, Close as the clasp that angels know Whose loves to one sweet eoul throb : l<-' growl” —Wllljam Btruthers in HemetTournal. §ur $aiutlg $kr%. Tk« E>4 of Her Waiting. F. Wycoff, in Arthur’s New •j . HomeMagaslnc. ' : y ' It was a new sensation to Dolly— this perfect^ beautiful happiness. It seemed to her that some wonderful new, brightness must have settled down over the world. , And H was only this morning that she had dusted the old brown dress and tried to brighten it with a fresh collar and pink bow. Only this morning—scarcely twelve hours ago—she had pinned, on the brown hat, with its dejected “droopy” bows, and wondered if she must walk about under it all the snmmer. And now it was all away back in that pitiful pastl For at noon a telegram bad come for her. She was eating her lunch, so daintily pnt up by Aunt Harriet, when the messenger boy came into the little back room of the millinery store and handed her a yellow en velope. And the opening of it was all that lay between the old world and the new. Just that tiny isth- mus of time between the old life and the new. Everything was changed as by magic, and she want ed to take the freckled-faced boy in her arms and kiss him then and there; but instead, she wrote her name in the book be held out to her, and when he Was gone, she read the scrawling lines again. “Ills all right. Coming to-mor row-. Robeet.” That was all; but oh, the mean ing of it! It meant an end to the years of weary waiting. It meant comfort and happiness ani rest and the fulGllment of countless lovely dreams. It meant everything to the woman who had waited and w sited for her wedding-day. And it meant that an heir had been fonnd at last by the puzzled lawyers, and that the fortune of the old Western miner would no longer go a-begging fov some one to nse it For the miner’s will had called for “the son of my friend Garrison Brent,” and Bobert was the fortu nate man. Dolly’s hands were not quite steady that afternoon, when she fitted one after another of the pretty hats over her Cousin Kitty’s yellow bangs, and Kitty wns hard to please. “You ain’tinterestod, Dolly; your eyes are dreamy. Do you know Bobert is coming horn ' Amy told me; they had a telegram. He is the heir; isn’t he rich? But he’s had a hard time taking care of his mother and sisters and Mrs. Brown’s child ren. That one is a little too close; try a flaring brim.” Dolly brought another hat and patiently laid the bine feathers around it “Maybe yen’ll be getting married now,” Kitty said, smiling under the drooping plumes, “now that Robert is a rich man.” Dolly flashed and bent over the hats on the counter. “It looks like it’s time,” Kitty wtnt on, “if you are engaged, as people say. But long engagement* rarely ever end in marriage, mother •ays. Yes, this one will da Get it by Snnday, Dolly; and I forgot—mother told me to rriet is through with answered, rosy-cheeked, yel- tripped out of the in the hammock under the low spreading magnolia-tree down by the gate. She was resting and thinking of the blessedness of this new world that held Robert all her own, and a home that she would make beautiful for him. It was twenty years since Robert, standing by her under this very tree, all in blossom then, had told her the sweet old story that every maiden must hear. Twenty years! She had been a slip of a girl then, awkwardly conscious of her first long dress; and Robert, boy scarcely older than herself, bad blushed and stammered over the story that is never easy to tell. And then his father had died, and his mother and sister; and, later on, a family of little orphaned nephews and nieces had been left to him. Dolly was the first to say that they must wait She could see how impossible it would be for Robert to take care of them all. .He left school and worked bravely on the old farm, and the waiting hgd gone on. .So twenty years crept away. Dolly had remained in her anut’s home, helping with tie children at first, and afterward working down town;, for her aunt's daughters needed everything, now that they were grown up, and Dolly was used to looking out for herself. But there had always been the love that bonnd her and Robert to each other. Not even the slenderest shadow had ever fallen between them. And now the waiting was over at last, and she would be Roberts wife. She would rather have waited for this than to have been a queen long ago. It seemed to her that the very leaves knew and trembled, as she did, with joy; and the stars twinkled down between them, as if they too, knew all about it The town clock struck ten, and Patty and Ben came in from the reading club. They always lingered a little at the gate, as the manner of lovers is, yon know. Dolly smiled as the soft murmur of their voices came to her. She wondered if the poor young things would ever be as happy as she was then! And then, as they walked slowly up the path, words began to grow ont of thi soft murmur. “Bob Brent has struck it, they say,” Ben remarked in his elegant way, and Patty replied mournfully: “Ah, yes. How sorry I am for Dolly 1 Poor faithful, loving Dolly!” “Sorry ? Why isn’t she in it ? I thought they were—” “Why, Ben,” Patty broke in, with tears in her little babyish voice, “can’t yon see that Dolly is only a faded middle-aged woman now, while Robert is in his prime—the handsomest man in town? And haven’t you noticed how he admires Kitty? It was all well enough when he couldn’t marry; but now ” But the words were indistinct again; Dolly heard no more. She had risen from the hammock and was standing, white and still, in the glare of the electric light. The stars were mocking her now up above the lower light, and the breezes were whispering of the twen ty years that had rolled over her, carrying her freshness away. Ben saw her there when he came down to the gate, and bowed with a cheery “Good night, Miss Dolly,” and went whistling bis newest favor ite down the street Then Dolly crept to her room. “And I would havj let him do it! I neyer would thought of the change. Oh, the shame, the humil iation of it I To think that I, a faded middle-aged woman, would have held him to the ’ romise made to a fair young girl twenty years ago! He was too true and noble to let me know, too tender to hurt me. If only I had seen I It is all so dif ferent with women, but I never thought of it before. It would not matter to me how changed Robert might be; I’d love him only more, if he needed more. But he is grandly handsome and—and he mnst have a —a young, pretty wife. It is best, I see that—best for Robert and for her and for me; for I couldn’t bear to have him sorry or—or ashamed.” ' She loosed her dress at the throat and pressed her hands against her temples. “He mustn’t be—ashamed of his —wife, dear faithful Robert. Jle must be happy, now that the world is brighter for him. I can bear it— for him.” And then she wrote a letter, and, when- it was finished, she knelt by her bedside; and the stars twinkled in and the breezes funned her pale calm face. Faded ? Oh, the beauty of it as she knelt there giving up all she held dear! What are dimples and all fresh prettiness to a beauty like that ? You only get to the sonl after these are gone. In the morning, before any of the household was awake, she took the letter and carried it out to the mail box ou the corner; and then she went to the hammock under the magnolia, and watched the suu rise down at the end of the cross street Presently tho'gate latch clicked, and then a pair of strong arms fold ed themselves about her and her. head was on Robert’s broad shoulder, and he was telling her how ho had longed for her, and what an age the last week had been. “Yon would have been sorry for me, Dolly,” he was saying; “for, in my hurry getting off, I left your last photograph in the pocket of the coat I’d been wearing, and there was only the childish little thing taken twenty 'years ago! • Forgive me, dear, but it’s more like yonr little silly-faced Cousin Kitty than like you. There, don’t be vexed—I know yon are not very like her now; but, between us, /I believe you were in those first days, thongh it is hard to think of my beautiful full-blown rose as anything less lovely and sweet than she is now. But you will soon be my very own, Dolly, and I shan’t be missing a photo graph when I have you.” Dolly drew her breath. She was in the new world again. “Do you really want me, Robert ?” she asked, a glad light in her dark- blue eyes. “I’ll show you pretty soon. Want you? Ob, Dolly!” and then he went on, laughing happily as he told her of his plan. “I’m coming to-morrow night with Mr. Sims, and I’m going to claim my wife and take her away with me- What a jolly tour ours shall be I Yes, I know there is always trouble about clothes and things; but wc won’t let that make the waiting longer. Put on the little blue frock and come away with me. 1 want you, and I’ve waited twenty years; and now I mnst hnrry to mother and Amy and the small army of young people. I’ll come for my wife at nine, Dolly. Will she be ready ?” What could she say but yea ? And then how her happy eyes fol lowed him as long as his broad shoulders were in sight 1 She stood by the gate until the postman came to take up the mail, aud then she flew out to him aud begged for- the letter she had drop ped through the slot an hour ago. “It’s against the rules, Miss Dolly,” he said; but she held out her hand and lifted her pleading eyes to him, aud he laid the letter across her palm. Then the breakfast-bell rang, and Dolly went in to tell them that her wedding-day was come. HUMOR OF THE CAMP. Anecdotes Told by General Gordon in HJs Famous Lecture. The grim humor of the camp waged eternal warfare on the general despondency, said General Gordon in his lecture, introductory to a few choice bits of fun. One day while strolling over the field of a recent battle he found one of his men, ah Irishman, talking earnestly to a dead Federal .soldier. “Faith,” te was saying, “I’m sorry for ye, poor old fellow, but you don’t need those shoes; yon are dead, now, aud I’ll just take ’em.” He pulfed the shoes from the dead man’s feet aud put them on Lis own. On one occasion a prayer meeting was held in camp, and one of the soldiers was called on to pray. “Oh, Lord,” he said, “we are in the midst of a terrible battle and in an awful lot of trouble. We hope you will take a proper view of the matter^and give ns the victory.” In the midst of a battle the Gen eral saw a man running from a very close situation. “What are you running for?” de manded the disgusted General in a stern voice. “Golly, General,” said the fleeing man, “I’m runnin’ because I can’t fly.” General Gordon also told an inter esting story of how it happened that a Federal soldier bore the last order that he ever sent to bis men. “But,” be added, humorously, “I had to send a private Confederate along to vouch for his veracity.” He concluded with a burst of Southern eloquence, and, seeing the silken flag ou the table from which he spoke, he said: “And by the memory of the fathers who be queathed us this glorious country; by the long line of noble heroes who fought in it; by the unrivaled hero ism and devotion of her sons—by all these wc declare that this flag of the Sojiih; this flag of the North; this flag of the united country, shall be a protecting power to all on laud and on sea.” POLO ON HORSECACK. There Are Fonr,Strokes to Re T^eamed Resides Speed In Riding. There are practically four strokes to bo learned m polo—forehand, both near and off side, and backhand dit to. Of these the forehand off siJo is worth all the others put together, as far as scoring is concerned, aud if a man can hit this stroke well he is in a fair way of becoming a valuable assistant to his side. It is usually the first stroke tackled by a begin ner.and it is sometimes never learned. Supposing a gigantic clock dial sus pended facing the off side of the pony and parallel with its sides, the stroke would bo started about with the stick horizontal and at about 9 o'clock. By tho time it got to a point opposite 2 o’clock the arm and stick would be almost in a straight line, and with a mighty swing the three-quarter circle would be com pleted and -the ball struck when the stick had reached 6 o’clock. This is the only stroke in which the stick should.describe more than a half eir cle. The left shoulder should be thrown'well forward, the face tinned almost square to the ball. In tho off side backhand stroke the body should be square to the front, but slightly leaning toward the off side, the right arm raised to about the level of tho head and slightly bent, and the stick start at 12 o’clock and finish the stroke at 0 o’clock. The near side strokes should gen- erally^bo used to straighten the ball or get it away from an adversary, though some men seem to have a special aptitude for them and are able to make accurate and fairly long strokes almost os well on the near side as on the off. The body in the near side forehand stroke is bent to tho left, the right shoulder ad vanced, tho right arm brought well back across the chest and the stroke start ed with the stick perpendicular. The near side backhand stroke is usually more or less of a downward “jab.” Most of those who are competent to teach the game would prefer to see a tyro miss the ball at speed when practicing than hit it at a walk. If a beginner gets into the way of playing a slow, poking game, he will not acquire that dash without which a polo player can never get into the first flight.—Boston Herald. Du«t In Cotton Faetorle*. The curious fact appears that cer tain individuals have the power of resisting acute and even chronic ca tarrh, gradually becoming accus tomed to an atmosphere laden with dust, and these work on without in jury up to old age. Such cases, how ever, are rare, and it has been shown that of 100 operatives who were ill in consequence of the dust the great er number suffered from tuberculo sis, chronic bronchial catarrh being also a fruitful source of trouble in a large percentage of cases. Investigation of the dust met with in cotton factoriesrshows that the stronger fibers are at once expelled from the air passages, but not the exceedingly small fibers, these fas tening very firmly to the mem brane and offering great resistance ■ to attempts to cough them up. The quantity of dust produced in the working of cotton, especially in card ing and spinning, is found to be very large, the danger being in proportion to the shortness of the fiber. Hemp and jute dust is even more harmful, while tho sanitary relations of silk spinning are pronounced favorable. —New York Tribune. CJmlercIla and Her Sllpffor. Yes, I know you are saying to yourself, “That headline would have looked and sounded better had it been ‘Cinderella and tho Glass Slipper,’" but the writer has been making a critical study of this most interest ing nursery story and finds that the famous "glass" slipper properly had no place in it. The “gloss” slipper is really the “fur,” “cloth” or “felt" slipper, tho word “glass” having been substituted through a strange mistranslation of the story. In the original it was written pantoufle en' vair, which, being translated, would be “the fur slipper.” Tho translator, however, wrote it as if it had been pantoufle en verro, making the little “cinder girl’s” fur foot covering one of glass, which, it mnst be admitted, would be one quite appropriate to a fairy.—Exchange. Thu rjarlsD* Balloon PUnt. There is a very curious plant to be found growing in the vicinity of Oro- ville, in this state. The fruit is yel low and a little larger than an egg and appeare like an empty bag rather than solid, though it contains a wa tery substance which evaporates or dries up when the fruit is fully ripe, leaving a sort of gas inside of the fruit which is lighter than air. This inflated baglike fruit flaps back and forth in tho wind till it finally breaks loose from its slender stem, sails up into the air, rising 100 or more feet and finally disappearing over the hilL—Oroville (Cal.) Mercury. Variation* In the Compass. When the Forest Queen was mak ing a trip to Portland the other morn ing, Captain Parsons noted that his compass was two points out of the way as he neared Bug light. Inves tigation showed that two bicycles had been placed near the wbeelhonse. These were removed, and the needle went back to its proper place. How watchful the mariner must be!-* Lewiston Journal. Love and Marriage. Yet, depend upon it, as you grow older you will see moro and more in stances aud proofs of tho reality and the depth of the lo"e of husbands and wives tor each t cher in tho most ordinary, c immoiij’aee couples. I have heard of marriages where love has died out from some canker of selfishness or worldlinees at its heart, but I have oftener seen unexpected proofs of a love stronger than death in all sorts of people in whom I had never before discovered any signs of sentiment or romance.—Sir Edward Stradiey. Stomach Troubles Liver Complaint, Constipation, and Biliousness ARE SPEEDILY CURED By tho use cf AVER’S Cathartic Pills A friend speaks through the Itooth- bay (Me.) V.ojhUr, cf the liencficial Wit results he has received from a regular use of AYER’S Pills. He says: “I was feeling sick and tired and iny stomach seemed all ont of order. I tried a number of remedies, hut none seemed to give mo any relief until I was induced to try the old reliable AYER’S lulls. I have taken only one box, but I feel like a new man. I think they are the most pleasant and easy to take of ;my- I'uiig I ever used, being so finely sugar-coated that even a child will lake them. I urge upon all who ars in need of a laxative to try A V Ell’,! nils. They will do good.” “As a family netlidne, I consider AYER’S Pill.i superior to all others, iny family, I have used *hem for years and never known them to to'l. Can commend this medicine to mothers, ns being mild, pleasant in action, and yet effective.”—Mrs. U. I. Plug, San Diego, Texas. Ay er’s Cathartic Pills Prepared by Dr. 3. C. A7or & Co., Lowell, Ka»3. Every Dose Effective swaaftH’ r for infants and Ghiltiren. Castovia is so wel! adopted to children that I ( recommend it os superior to any prescription mown to mo." II. A. Archer, M. D., | So. Oxford St., ErooLlyn, N. Y. | Ca*torla cures Colic, Constipation, Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea Lructaiion, Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promote.* di- ■ ration, 8 Without injurious medication. Tb* Centaur Company, 77 Murray Street, N. Y. An Xn*llau v 8 Idea of n Comet. When tho last comet was stream ing in the sky, I was camping one night in a canyon near tho foot of Cook’s peak, in the party was an old- -and for an Indian—a fairly in telligent Ute named Sam. Pointing to tho comet, I asked Sara what he could say in its defense from the standpoint of a Ute. Sam was, un like most Indians, a great talker and could speak English veiy well. He was ambitious to perfect himself in the language and readily seized on every cjiance for a talk. Indeed I dis covered him on one or two occasions all alone and talking vigorously at a mark like a savage Demosthenes. “Tell about that?” said Sam, point ing toward the comet. - “Sam do it in a heap easy. The sun is the man, and he have moon for squaw. The stars—big stars and little stars—are all their children. The sun don't Kko ’em. If he catch one, ho eats it. This makes the stars heap ’fraid, and when tho sun has his sleep over and comes put tho stars run and hide. When the sun comes, stars go— creep into holes and hide. But the moon is good. She loves her children— the stars—and when tho sun sloops she comes out in the sky, and tho stars are glad, and they come out of the places they hid in and forget to be ’fraid and play. But when the sun wakes again they run. He is always after them, and he catches them sometimes. This one,” con tinued Sam. pointing to the comet, “the eun catch one time. He got away, though, hut tho sun bit him and hurt him. That’s why ho bleed so. Now he’s heap scared, and so he keeps his face always toward tho place where tho sun is sleeping.”— New York World. ids* CACTIOJL—If • d.al.r offer. W. L. Douglas Shoe, at a nducud prlc, or wt* he ha. them without name vtampod ou bottom, put him down aa a fraud. W. L. Douglas 83 SHOE thVworld. W. L. DOUGLAS SWoe* are .tjIUh, mty fit- ting, and give better satisfaction at the prices ad. vertised than any other make. Try one nair and be convinced. The stamping of W» L. Douglas* name and price on the bottom, which guarantees their value, saves thousands of dollars annually to those who wear them. Dealers who push the sale of W. L. Douglas Shoes gain customers, which helps to increase the sules on their full line of goods. They can afford to sell nt a lessr - *** and we believe you can save it *■“ ^ t to sell nt a less profit. 5 money by buying all advertised below. your footwear of the dealer adv Catalogue free upon application. Address, W. !>. DOUGLAS, Brockton, Maas. Sold fev For Sale by A. T. BROWN. Si S. Si ?! CURES .SCROFULA Mrs. E. J. Rowe!!, Mndford, Mass., says bef mother bas been cured of Scrofula by the nsa of four bottles of SSJfiSSS lk,ter havln K ^ muchotber treat- ment, and being reduced to quite a low condition of bealtb, os 11 was thought is he could not live. Cured my little boy ^ of heredi tary scrolula wblcbap- pearod all over UU f* 00 - P 01 a year I had Hi ?en up all hope i of hie recovery, when finally I was Induced to ues gWSKH A fewbo “^ttloa cured him, and nu R-lSSSflB symptoms of tbe disease remain. Mks. T. L. Matusk-, Mslhrrvllle, Miss. Our book on Bloo i an I SVin Disc.!*••* m.vlle.i free, StttirT ibl’&.U'u: Co . AtUnt*. Ca- JOB Done With Neatness and Despatch! Such as Bill Heads, Letter Heads, Envelopes, Dodgers, Statements, Wedding Invitations. Ill an Drier! Address, 8AW0H, S, C. « •:!«.* sc h’u „ "U KACAJCTfC OiU _ A u,k&k’ ultierA’ r-:i». tJ 'nrerot! r.rv: /Ate- no!. - &■»■} &‘ r »> ralid'.viicgji KETMLi 'fv. - st- , tt".: j-u-iw, CGI ICaivI i . ■ ! V-r.! . rS IVvMltJtl:; . »’1iM 0>*. Wor- ' aV: ^ d!;'.ir Tv ^X* 0 **’ $ H0?,$c SRAM. V ico'-t rrrvf rf :t Mul 1 ene: • ith'i 1 ’.u.KTutfcr '.Ki ruxir-.'-.nC'. Tvttye*’. f-fte 15c., fc.-c,aSi-a4^, tff'N-JSSK'r, CVtwKTAi. SOAP. Voiliwucrtl roji TW.H. Thp Ore*:* £ Jo n On?*© ac-l 'aceG*ai',blftr* v :i j;tu* it mot; Toilet Si/fp on ;•.? luar.vL eit ^oiuv^’y p*jr©. Muios In* t'u iv v.«ivt.-riy-mi,! .-iini' tijf. !v*»t com** ’•letiopj l* u Iiu-:.-* !*>r tHath lor t ni-.jfi ilrhitir. Cit-T^rr?; *♦;«;>< sijt »» 1 promt,tos lie tTcvrih of fc;ur iMc* >‘o: b? -umriea 1 i&lsjr 'mm 7.NESS* f.Ayn'*. . 'QLXAP. w.SkEN'. •‘riipATlON pee SS.aP. FOft A CASEWILL NOT GUncrfy An EgrocdblB Laxative and Nsave Tonic. Bold by Druggists or sect by mall. 25c., Kc. and $1.00 per pacitago. Samples free. lUT IE? ft Tho Favorite TOOTS PJI7I33 BW9 jLlltol fcrthoTccthandBreath,250; Captain Sw* cncy, U.S.A.,San Dtepro.Cal., Bays: “Shiloh's Catarrh Remedy Is the firs', medicine I have ererfound that would do mo any good." Fricefneta. Bold by Druggists* Do not neolert a Cough, aa there to danger of Its lending to Consumption. Shiloh's Curb will eivo you nsovera Lucif Trouble. It is the boat Cough Cure and speedily relieves Cougbs, Croup, Whooping Cough and Bronchitis, ana is sold on a guarani ee. 25 eta. DO YOU EXPECT TO BECOME A MOTHER? “ Mothers* Friend” make; chub bibtii easi. Assists Nature, Lessens Danger, sad Shortens Labor. “ My wife suffered moro In ten minute. With her other children than she did all together with her last, after having used four bottles of MOTHER’S FRIEND," says a customer. Henderson Dale, Druggist, Carari, 111. Sent by express on receipt of price, f 1A0 per bofc tie. Rook “To Mothers ” mailed free. BRADFIELD REGULATOR CO., VS SALS SV ALL DRUGOIfTS. ATLANTA. QA. The Old Friend And the best friend, that never fails you, is Simmons Liver Regu lator, (the Red Z)—that’s what you hear at the mention of this excellent Liver medicine, and people should not be persuaded that anything else will do. It is the King of Liver Medi cines; is better than pills, and takes the place of Quinine and Calomel. It acts directly on tho Liver, Kidneys and Bowels and gives new life to the whole sys tem. This is tho medicine you want. Sold by all Druggists in Liquid, or in Powder to he taken dry or made into a tea. EEJ-EVERY PACKAGE'S! Ha. the Z Stamp in rejl on wrapper* J* H* ZKIL1N & CO., Philadelphia, tV CURE5ALL SKIN AfiD bldbd Diseases. t'hyfi'cians 6nd--n« F. F. t\ e'b ^ jpl- J'.'d" ^mb’uailon, •nd protcrib* it with great •AtbfAi'tfcws t'<.r tbs cam of all f-rros and h;ay*s of Frimw, t’ac-nidu-v and Tertian Sores, Glandular Swellings, Ki>eonmt!sin, Malaria, old Chronic Uksrs that hsio r-thU-d all treatment, faltitb, TET ^RMsS^tcsfiaai^brortoTrmairTallpSuntinBBr •nrlal Poison, TstUr, Scald Huad, sir., etc. Ladles whose eyiteat ara poisoned and whose blood it ia jsi^Jtsjim^^^comirimnMln^^^^ersrimal^rrojidiriMes^ara^ 7>teuhan^TTnn!ua^Dy , ^bi^"womT*nuT , T!cn l us"auTTk?j3^ clean «ing proper tint ol P. P. P., Prickly Ash, Poke Kook and Potuiiutn. MPPKAN BROS., Pwr-rlstors, DrugglyiB, L'vpman'a Block, SAVAKSABjOA.