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' XSSVED SBKI'WBESL^ i. m. grists sons, Publishers. } % Jfamilg jjewspjer: <^or the promotion of the political, Social, Agricultural, and Commtqcial jfittyrffts of the fjmplt. {TE8^^2o*yVr'^i'ci^ancb' established" 1855^ YORKYILLE, 9. O., TUESDAY, JTHSTE 7, 1904. - 2STO. 46. . ft " x"--i-il i K. - '>U>.f' V-i.-u" nV V'4. . '. u:?. ?V (Uncle km ======== yv 3 CHARLES C Copyright, 190 0. by In **?/!* 'VT f ??v/? CHAPTER XXXV. "f AI ? l'M 8?in' t0 glve ye a taste ?' gj J mackerel flsbin'," said Uncle SjfeS Terry the next morning aft*SP3KJ er breakfast "We'll go over to the fish house, an' ye can put on some oilers an' save yer good clothes." On the way they met the well remembered old lady Albert had first noticed at the prayer meeting. She recognized him and, offering a rather soiled hand, for she had been spreading fish on the racks, exclaimed: "In the Lord's name I thank ye, Mr. Page, fer rememberln' a poor old creetur like me an' sendin' that dress. 1 make sure the Lord's teched yer heart, an' if ye ain't a believer yet ye will be" "I am glad my little remembrance pleased you," answered Albert pleasantly. "It was only a trifle, and you need not feel obligated for it." Ho kept on after Uncle Terry, not wishing to waste any time, but she followed to add more thanks, ending with, "God bless ye, sir, an uiuy uc nuiu wc heart o' one good girl, fer ye desarve It" When he had donned a suit of oilers and Uncle Terry was pulling out of the little cove Albert said: "That old lady is the most pious person I ever met No one could doubt she means every word she says." "Waal, it's about all the consolation she gits out o' life, an' 'twixt you an' me, she takes more'n all the rest o' the believers here," answered Uncle Terry, "an* at times I 'most envy her fer it She's sorter cracked 'bout religion; leastwise that's my notion, an' mebbe it's lucky she is, seeln's she's poor an' nothin' but that fer comfort. She's smart 'nutf other ways, though, an' there ain't nothln' goin' on here she don't know. She's kind hearted, too, an' if she bad anything ter give she'd share her last cent with ye. If ennybody's sick she's alius ready to help. Thar's lots o' wuss folks in the world than the Widder Leach." And then, as if that crowned the sum total of her virtues, he added, "Telly an' Lissy fltinlro Info n' her " j He paused for breath and, turning to see if they were heading right, resumed his strong and steady pulling. "Thar," observed Uncle Terry, pointing to a long and narrow ledge, "is whar Telly started fer shore all alone Just nineteen years ago last March." And then he added while he watched Albert's averted face. " 'Twas an onlucky day fer the poor sailors an' a lucky one fer us, fer she's been a heap o' comfort ever since." "Tell me, Uncle Terry, why it Is she feels so sensitive regarding her history and what is the cause of the peculiar moods you spoke of last summer. I noticed it last evening, and it pained me very much." "It's hard tellin'. She's a girl that's given ter broodin' a good deal, an' mebbe when she was told the facts she began ter suspect some o' her ancestors would be lookin' her up some day. She alius has been a good deal by herself sence she got her schoolin', an' most likely doin' lots o' thinkin'. But Telly's all right, an' the most willin' an' tender hearted creetur I ever seen or heard on. She'll make an amaein* good wife fer some man if she ever finds the right 'un." When they reached the island Uncle Terry landed and, going to the top of a cliff, scanned the sea for signs of fish. "Mackerel's cur'us flsh," he observed to Albert, who had followed. "They's a good deal like some wimmin?ye never know whar ter find 'em. Yesterday mornln' that cove jest inside o' the p'int was 'live with 'em, an' today I can't see a sign o' one. We better sit here an' wait a spell till I sight a school.". To a dreamer like Albert Page the limitless ocean view he now enjoyed lifted him far above mackerel and their habits. His mind was also occupied a good deal by Telly, and while he desired to please the kindly old man, who imagined fishing would entertain him, his heart was not in it. "Don't let us worry about the mackerel, Uncle Terry," he observed as they seated themselves on top of a cliff. "This lone, uninhabited island and the view here will content me until your flsh are hungry." "It alius sets me thlnkin', too, an' wonderin' whar we cum from an' what we air here for. An' our stay is so amazin' short besides! We air born, grow up. work a spell, git old an' die, an' that's the end. Why, it don't seem only last year when I cum to the Cape, an' it's goin' nigh on to thirty now, an' I'm a'most through my spell o' life. What puzzles me is what's the good o' bein' born at all if ye've got ter die so soon! An', more'n all that, if life's the Lord's blessin', as the widder b'lieves, why are so many only born to suffer or be crippled all their lives? An' why are snakes an' all sorts o' vermin, to say nothin' o' cheatlu' lawyers, like Frye, ever born at all?" Albert smiled at the coupling of Frye with vermin. "There are a good many wiser heads than mine, Uncle Terry, that have never been able to answer your question," he replied, "and I doubt if they ever will. To my mind the origin of life Is an euigma, the wide variations in matters of health and ability an injustice, and the end a blank wall that none who scales ever recrosses with tidings of the beyond. As some one has expressed it: 'Life is a Terryj #K.... ..-v?iS^I LARK MUNN t:.\--';'.\:* . "}? y. 1 LEE S3L SHEVA.H-D ]?&!$" narrow vale netween tne cold and Darren peaks of two eternities! We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry.' " "An' right tliar," put in Uncle Terry earnestly, "is whar I alius envy the believers, as the wldder calls 'em, fer they are satisfied what is beyond an' have it all pict'rd out in thar minds, even to what the streets are paved with an' the kind o' music they're goin' ter have. It's all guesswork, in my way o' thinkin', but they are sure on't, an' that feelin' is lots o' comfort to 'em. when they are drawin' near the nd. I've been a sort er scoffer all _y life an' can't help bein' a doubter, but there are times .when I envy the Wldder Leach an' the rest on 'em the delusion I b'lieve they're laborln' under." "But do you believe death ends all consciousness?" asked Albert seriously. "Have you no hope, ever, of a life beyond this blank wall?" "Sartln I have hopes, same as all on us has, but I wish I was more sure my hopes was goin' ter be realized. Once in awhile I git the feelin' thar ain't no use in hopin', an' then a little suthin keeps sayln' 'Mebbe? mebbe? mebbe'?an' I feel more cheerful again." Albert looked at the roughly clad and withered old man who sat near, and in whose words lurked an undertone of sadness mingled with a faint hope, and In an Instant back came a not-fnin ovunlrir months hpfore when the Widow I.eaeh had uttered a prayer that had stirred his feelings as no juch utterance ever had before. All the pathos of that simple petition, all Its abiding faith in God's goodness and wisdom, all its utter self abnegation and absolute confidence in a life beyond the grave, came back, and all the consolation that feeling surely held for the old and poverty environed soul who uttered it impressed him in sharp contrast to the doubting "mebbe ?mebbe" of Uncle Terry. As Albert looked out to where the waves were breuking upon a ledge, and back again to this old man sitting with bowed head beside him, a sincere regret that it was not in his power to utter one word that would aid in dispelling the clouds of doubt came to him. "Since I lack in faith myself," hA thomrht "all I can sav will only in crease his doubt. T wish I bad as much faith as the widow, but I have not, and possibly never shall have." For a long time he sat In silence, living over the years during which skepticism had been slowly but surely growing upou him. and then Uncle Terry suddenly looked up at him. It Is likely the old man's keen eyes read at a glance what was in Albert's mind, for he said: "It don't do no good ter brood over this matter o' believin', Mr. Page; I've wished I thought different many a time, an' more so now I'm gittin' near the end o' life, but I can't, an' so thar's no use in worryin*. Our 'pinions 'bout these matters are a good deal due to our bringin' up an' the experiences we've met with. Mine, connected with those as has perfesstd religion, has, to say the least, been unfortnlt, but, as I said afore, I wish I believed different" He paused a few moments and then added sadly. "This hopin' ain't alius * "Llssy an' me sorter 'spcctcd that Telly was the magnet." best fer some on us either, fer it's hopln' fer some one to cum year after year that's made Telly what she Is un' grieved Lissy an' me more'n she ever knew." Albert looked curiously at the old man beside him, and a new feeling of trust and affection came to him. In some ways Uncle Terry seemed like his own father. Then, following that, i came a sudden impulse to be frank : with him. "Uncle Terry," he said, "I have a i little story to tell you. and, as it comes close to you. I believe it's right that you should know it. The first time I saw Telly 1 said to myself, That girl Is a prize any man may feel proud to win.' I asked her if I might write to her, and what with her few letters and the little I have seen of her I feel that she Is the one I want for a wife. I have not even hinted it to her yet. and before I do I would like to feel that you are satisfied with me. May I have your consent to win her if I can?" band and, still holding liers, arose anu drew her up. Then Albert slyly put his arm around her wal9t, and as he drew her to him he whispered, "Just one. Telly, my sweetheart, to make this spot seem more sacred." It was not refused. g "Come out on the point, dear," he said as she tried to draw herself away, "so we can see the ocean better. I will tell you the story I promised last 0 evening." He still held her a half tl prisoner, nnd when they were seated B where the waves were beating almost ? at their feet he began his recituJ. When n he came to that portion in which Frye o played a part, and ending in such a b ghastly denouement, she shuddered. * "That is the one horrible part, of h taking j*our own life," she said. ? "to u "Uncle Terry reached out and grasped tl Albert's band and, shaking it cordially, t) answered, "Ye hev my best wishes in t< the matter, an' I wouldn't say that if s I didn't think ye worthy o' her!" Then he added with a droll smile, "Llssy an' si me sorter 'spected that Telly was the 8 magnet that drew ye dowu here!" If "I thank you for your confidence and t! consent," replied Albert gratefully. "I % am earning an income that is more than sufficient for two, and if Telly y will say 'yes' I Bball be the happiest t( man on earth. And now," he added, t let's go fishing, Uncle Terry." h "I guess it's 'bout time," was the a nowoi' "for thnr'n ttrn Bphnols work- 81 in' into the cove, an' we'll have some fun." a Three hours after, when they landed tl at the cove fairly sated with pulling 1 in the gamy little mackerel and happy v as two boys, Telly met them with a t smile and the news that dinner was & ready. o n CHAPTER XXXVI. "[ ?? E will go in my boat," said 81 I Yf Telly the next afternoon ^ jLi-r. when she and Albert were BBgW ready to start on their trip n to the cove, and, unlocking a small an- 8 nex to Uncle Terry's boathouse, a she showed him a dainty cedar craft 0 cushioned and carpeted. "You may 7 help me launch the Sea Shell," she added smiling, "and then you may 01 steer." "No, that is the lady's privilege in all voyages," he answered, "and we must begin this one right." It was a good four mile pull to the mouth of the inlet and when he helped his fair passenger out he said: "Do you mean to say you rowed up here alone every day to work on that picture. Telly? You will let me call rou Tellv now. won't you?" "Why not? All my friends do, and 1 feel you are my friend." Then she added: "Now I am going to have my revenge and make you pose while 1 sketch this time. It was the other way before." "I am glad It Is," he said, "for my arms are too tired to use for an hour. How do you want me, flat on the rock fast asleep, the way I was when my boat drifted away?" "Oh, no, that would look as If you were dead, and as this Is to be my reminder of you I want you very, much alive." As for the pose she wanted Albert to assume, she could not determine which she liked the best "I want to sketch you In the position most natural to you here," she said e finally, "and must ask you to choose that yourself." "Let us trim the boat the way mine was that day, and I will sit beside It y and smoke while you work." $ The idea was adopted, and while nmrtlroH fnntonfwl T* 1C1JJ' OaCLLUCU UV Oilivavuf Jto watch the winsome face, so oblivi- t( ous to bis admiring glances. y "There," she observed, after a half 8( hour of active penciling, "please lay a your cigar aside and look pleasant I want to catch the expression of your j| face." 1( When the sketch was completed she 8 asked If he had any suggestions to tl make. "Only one. I would like you In the b picture and sitting beside me." \ "I would rather not be in it," she n replied soberly. "I only want to see b you as you are here today. It may be b a long time before you come to the c Cape again." y "Would you like me to come often?" e "Of course," she answered, turning a away her face. "It is so lonesome g here, and there is no one I care to talk a with except father and mother and b Aunt Leach and Mandy Oaks." ^ Albert's heart began to beat with un- j< usual speed. Never In his life before a had he felt the impulse to utter words j of love to any woman. "Telly," he tl said, "I promised to tell you a little n story here today, but it's all said in a tl few words. I love you, and I want e X i oil fKof T Sian _ JOU IU suaic L11J lilt; uuu an uiai, jl vum g do to make you happy." A trifle in- h coherent, but expressive. 1 For a moment, while the tide of feel- n ing surged through that queen's heart d and into Ler cheeks, even to the tips v of her ears, she was silent, and then, as a both her hands went to her face, she almost whispered: "Oh, no, no; I can- v not! I can never leave father and g mother alone here! It would break g my heart!" ' a "But you do care a little for me, don't s you, Telly?" he begged, trying to draw s her hands away from her blushing b face. "Just a little, Telly; only say a n little, to give me hope." d And then, as one of the hands he f was trying to gain was yielded and as he softly stroked and then rnised It to a his lips, she turned her pleading eyes a to him and said: "You won't be angry, h will you? And you will come and see " me once in awhile, won't you? And y let me paint a picture to give you when you come?" b It may have been the pain In his r face, added to her own desolation, that b overcame all else, for now she bowed her head, and the tears came. b "I thank you for so much, Telly," he I answered tenderly, "and God bless you b for it. I do not give you up and shall not if I have to wait all my life for 8 you. I can be patient If I only have 8 hope." He brushed his face with one ^ lilnK" How you will loot'and what bose who find you will say. If I were ) do such a thing I should first make ure no one would ever find me." The remark startled him. "Telly," he aid soberly, "do not ever think of uch a thing. Would you, whose heart ! so loving and tender, burden all bose who know you with a lifelong arrow ?" "No, no, not that way. Only if those rho love me were taken I should want 3 follow ttiem. That is all. riease Drget I said It." Then she told him er own brief history, and at last, fter much coaxing, a little of the one arrow of her life. ."Now I know," he said, "why yon voided speaking about the picture of tie wreck the first time I came here." 'ben In a moment he added: "Telly, I rant you to give It to me and let me ike it away. I want it for two reaons. One is, It gave me the first hint f your life's history. And then I do ot want you to look at it any more." "You may have it," she answered, mlllng sadly. "It was foolish of me > paint it." When the sun was low and they were eady to return he said, "Promise me, weetbeart, that you will try to forget 11 of your paBt that Is sad and think nly of us who love you and to whom our life Is a blessing." That evening he noticed Uncle Terry cca8ionally watched her with wistful "Oh, no, no; I cannot I" yes, and, as on the evening before, otb he and Aunt Llssy retired early. "They wish me well," Albert thought The next day Uncle Terry proposed hat Telly should drive to the bead of lie island in his place. "I'm sorry ye must leave ub, Mr. 'age," he said when Albert was ready ? . - - I a J-l? JU- Iff mlnli 3 Did lLie oia 101K.S guuuuy. x n?u e could stay longer, but cum ag*in oon, an' remember our latcbstrlng's llus out fer ye." Wben the old carryall bad made half 3 dally journey Albert pointed to a )w rock and said, "There la a spot I ball always be glad to see, for It was here Uncle Terry first found me." Telly made no answer. In fact, she ad said but little since tbey started. Vhen tbey reached the little landing 0 one else was there. No bouse was 1 sight of it, and the solitude was roken only by the tide that softly aressed the barnacled plies of the rharf and the weed covered rocks on ither side. No boat was visible down the wide reach that separates outhport Island from the mainland, nd up It came a light sea breeze that arely rippled the flowing tide and rhispered through the brown and scar;t leaved thicket back of them. Over 11 shone the hazy sunlight of October, 'elly stood listening and hoping that he boat would be late. A look of sadess came over her face and a more ban usually plaintive appeal In her xpresslve eyes. "I am sorry you are oing," she said. "It is so lonesome ere, and It will seem more so now." 'hen, as If that was a confession he light think unmaldenly, she added, "I read to have the summer end, ft>r rlien winter comes the rocks all round seem like so many tombstones." Aioeri put uui uib uuuu ub u. ujm rould aid bis appeal, and as bis flners closed over bers be said: "I am olng away witb a heavy heart. Telly, nd when I can come back is bard to ay. Will you not promise me that ome time, no matter when, you will e my own good and true wife? Let le go away with that hope to comfort le while I work and save for a home or us both. Will you, Telly?" But the plaintive face was turned way, perhaps to hide the tears. Then q aria stole around her waist, and as ie drew her close she whispered. When I am no longer needed here, if ou want me then I will come to you." She was sobbing, her head resting on >ls shoulder, and as he kissed her unesistlng lips a boat's sharp whistle roke the sacred spell. "Go a little way back, my darling," ie whispered, "until the boat Is gone, do not want any one to see you have ieen crying." When her misty eyes could no longer ee the boat that bore her heart away, he turned, and all the long, lonely ray back love's tears lingered on her ashes. to be continued. What Was Wrong.?A workman on omlng home in the evening was askd by his wife to look at the clock, he complained that It had been silent 11 day and she could not tell tne reaon. Her husband took it down and xamined it carefully. Then he took ff the hands and face and looked at tie works with the aid of a magnifying lass. Next he blew into it with the ellows, oiled the wheels and then put ack on the wall. But still it would ot strike. Tired and puzzled, he went ff to bed. The next morning at reakfast his wife said to him, "George, think I can tell you what is amiss ,-ith our clock." "Well, what is it?" e asked sharply. "It wants winding p."?London Answers. pisefltotifou? Reading. THE ONE HORSE FARM. How It Can Be Manipulated With Greatest Profit. The chief enemy to progressive agriculture In the southern states Is the "one-horse farm." The equipment of the one-horse farm Is generally a cheap mule, too weak, as usually fed, to do good work, a boy Dixie and a scooter plow provided with shovel, scooter and half-shovel. This primitive equipment In the hands of one ignorant of the very fundamental principle: underlying successful agriculture is a guarantee of not only failure in production, but of the deterioration of the. soil. The history of southern agriculture fully illustrates and substantiates these statements. What la the Remedy? The land owner has the matter largely In his own hands from continued waste, demand that he stop the present practice of superficial preparation, ignorant and wasteful use of fertilizers upon land incapable of retaining the rm isture necessary for their utilization by the plant, and cultivation, which is destructive rather than conducive to the best development of plant growth and production. The average land owner tenants out his land to any Irresponsible person who can secure supplies from a merchant by mortgaging crops not yet planted and buy on credit some broken down horse or mule blanketed also with a mortgage. The landlord does this knowing and acknowledging that what he receives from the tenant will not pay for the deterioration of the land from which his profit is supposed to be derived. This polic- and practice are suicidal in their results. The tendency of the age in all other enterprises is towards concentrated effort combined- with the use of the most advanced and economical implements and machinery. The farming industry must fall into line and keep up with the procession. Cotton mills are discarding antiquated machinery and Installing instead the most up-to-date appliances of every description. We find no one-horse cotton or wooien nuns?uu sinugci auu scrap iron railroad tracks. We never now hear of the whip saw or the upright saw of fifty years ago, but the one-horse plow is still in evidence. Land owners can protect their land. Increase their products and benefit their tenants by requiring them to unite their teams in the preparation of the land. The writer did this thirtyfive years ago. The tenants complained in the spring but thanked him in the fall. The best Investment a one-horse farmer can make is the purchase of another horse or mule. Land cannot be properly prepared by a single team nor can the most valuable and economical implements be utilized with less than two-horse power. The weeder, which should be on every farm, is the only exception to this statement. Any small farmer can better afford to buy the extra mule than he can to attempt to farm with one, provided he will determine to plant no more land than he can thoroughly prepare and fertilize and will diversify and rotate his crops, thus producing ample food for the stock ana annuany increasing the productive capacity of his land. With improved implements, such as the Chattanooga reversible disc plow, the Malory plow, the disc harrow, the disc cultivator, the mower, etc., on all of which the plowman rides, better crops can be grown at reduced cost. By the use of such labor-saving Implements the wages of one man can be saved and this will buy an extra mule, while the improvement of the land and the increased crops will pay for the Implements. Again, the improved preparation will not only reduce the fertilizer bill, but will Increase the effects of those used by enabling the soil to absorb and retain more moisture. For the same reason it will render the drouths of summer less injurious. Again by having full team, more work can be done, while the land is in the best condition, in both preparation and cultivation. By using wide scrapes and cultivators the two mules will be able to cultivate the corn and cotton promptly after each rain and thus dispense with much of the hoe work. More than twice the load can be carried on a two-horse wagon than on the one-horse." One man with two mules can do more and better work in preparing land than two men with one-horse plows. One man riding a mowing machine can do more work and do it better than five men with grass scythes. By using a double team, without increasing the area under cultivation, twice as much soil is made available to plant roots, while its capacity for absorbing and holding moisture is quadrupled, thus diminishing the risk of injury to the crops by either excessive rains or summer drouth, thereby insuring larger crops of better quality at reduced cost of production. Not only is this true, but instead of decreasing in fertility as is usually the case with the one-horse farm, with a judicious rotation and deep and thorough preparation, the productive capacity of the two-horse farm is annually increased. A three-year system of rotation in which cotton, corn, small grain, peas and sorghum constitute the principal crops may be made to combine profit and progressive improvement of the soil. Rotation Suggested. The following rotation combines money crops, forage crops and soil renovation: First Year? Field (a)?20 acres cotton. Field (b)?20 acres corn and peas. Field (c)?10 acres small grain followed by peas; 5 acres sorghum; 5 acres peas and hog crops. Second Year? Field (a)?Corn and peas. Field (b)?Small grain followed by peas, sorghum and hog crops. Field (c)?Cotton. Third Tear? Field (a)?Small grain followed by peas, sorghum, peas and hay crops. Field (b)?Cotton. Field (c)?Corn and peas. It will be observed that In this rotation two-thirds of the cultivated land has humus supplying and renovating crops every year. Sweet potatoes, ground peas, soja beans, artichokes, rape and chufas are classed as hog crops. These are to be gathered by the hogs under movable fences, which are easily made with cable hog wire, by nailing strips of plank to the posts and braddlng the wire to the plank. To move this the plank with the wire attached can be rolled . and carried to the new plot to be Inclosed. The posts are reset at the same distance apart as before and the plank renalled to them. By this means pork can be grown very cheaply without recourse to the corn crib. Ten acres should be sodded In Bermuda grass and several planted In alfalfa, the former for permanent pasture and the latter for green sailing or for hay. A few acres In Texas and blue grass will complete the pasturage for permanent use as this is green when Bermuda is dormant. Rye sown thickly, part In drill and part broadcast Is the best winter grass.?Prof. J. S. Newman, Clemson College. EARLY PROMOTING IN HELENA. How the Grocer and Barkeeper Helped Along Beth Bullock. How Seth Bullock, superintendent of the Black Hills forest reserve, personal friend of the president and not Infrequently a guest at the White House and a noted western character, managed to secure a fancy drink in the early days of Helena, Is told by a former, resident s of that city, now of this. It serves to ' show that the age of "promotion" Is a not as voune as Is pictured by later i late savants. It was In the early '70s, when Helena was one of the banner placer mining camps of the west, and gold was being washed by hundreds of men from the sands of Last Chance Gulch (now Main street). Bullock wanted a fancy drink and did not care to remunerate the bartender with a fancy price In lieu, so he evolved a plan which worked to perfection. "G , I'll tell you what let's do. If vou will furnish the sherry, I'll furnish the eggs, and we will mix a drink 'hat Is out of sight." As eggs were worth $2 a dozen, the liquor man decided that It was a good bargain, although wine was also sold at a stiff figure in thpse days. Then Bullock'went Into a grocery nearby, and said to the proprietor: , "W , If you will furnish the eggs, I'll furnish the sherry and we will have something worth while In the line of fancy drinks." The grocer agreed to furnish the eggs and a few minutes later both entered the liquor house. The concoction was duly prepared and the three began to absorb It. As Seth swallowed his share, an Idea struck the bartender. "Say." demanded he, turning upon Seth, "where do you come In on this game anyway? W has furnished the eggs, and I have supplied the liquor. How do you get In?" "Oh, I'm the promoter," replied Bui 10CK wun it simie. There was nothing left to say.? Washington Post. HENRY CLAY'S FRIENDS. Pittsburg Banker Recalls Incident In the Statesman's Career. Mr. George Wood was In Pittsburg some months ago, when he was asked to stop In a bank and pay his respects to the president, who was 94 years old, and the honored head of the banking community. "Mr. Wood, you are from Louisville?" said the venerable gentleman. "I was in Louisville only once, and that was many years ago. I, called at the Bank of Kentucky and met its president, Mr. Virgil McKnight, a man known and respected by bankers everywhere. "While In Mr. McKnlght's office, Mr. Henry Clay was announced. " 'Toil Mr. dlav to come in at once,' said Mr. McKnight, rising. "I saw enter a tall man of dignified and graceful bearing. "Mr. Clay did not delay a moment, but came at once to' the purpose of his call. " 'Mr. McKnight,' said he, 'I have in- ' dorsed a note which is due in this bank 1 in the next /ew days. It is for $5,000. ! My friend is unable to meet the note, ' and I shall have it to pay. I have 1 come to ask if the bank will carry that 1 paper for me until I can arrange to settle the debt.' " 'Mr. Clay,' said Mr. McKnight, 'you 1 are mistaken. You are not on any ' paper in this bank.' "Mr. Clay was greatly surprised, and said he certainly could not be mis - 1 taken. "Mr. McKnight then said: 'This bank held that paper, but it was paid j *"11 Ortmo rtava atrn hv friends who desire to be unknown.' " 'Did ever man have such friends as I?' said Mr. Clay, with emotion. j 'I have come from a similar visit to j the Bank of Louisville, and have been told by the officers that all the paper on which I am indorser has been ( paid.' "?Louisville Evening Post. ?& Two women set out to win the 1 same man, and each entered the game j with a different plan. One put on fine ( garments to dazzle his eye, and the ! other for Ijlm baked an old-fashioned j pie. The swell dresser did nothing < but giggle and talk; the pie baker said ' nothing?but she won in a walk. tST The King of Denmark Is likely to live until a descendant of his has been j a queen or a king In almost every > country of Europe. < FAMILY RELIGION. An Infallible Safeguard to Prosperity and Happiness. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. We might speak of the influence of 'amily religion on politics and the ihurch, as well as society, but time ind space forbid. It was Pope who said, "Man Is the loblest work of God." This Is true, ind only true because he Is the work >f God. And only in so far as he ceeps in touch with his Creator is his lobillty manifest. A failure to realze the source of human happiness even 'or a time, has caused a shipwreck to )e made of thousands of lives. So nany parents conclude that society nakes men and women, and therefore ;he first thing they must do Is to get heir song and daughters into society, rhey will make any personal sacrifice n order to have their children popular vlth men. And though oftentimes vhat is recognized in their community is the best society indulges in conduct inbecoming a Christian life, parents vlll encourage their children to enter t They doubtless comfort themselves vith the thought that after the chllIren have established themselves sodaily and become popular among men, hey can easily be brought under the nfluence of the gospel. The mistake ests In the fact that society does not nake men, hut men make society. And he first mistake .has led to a second: Social standing Is no longer a matter >f personal merit, but a commodity to >e bought and sold as other articles of :ommerce. A beast of a man with a vell-fllled purse canoftentlme be found n any place with the most refined of he community. In place of morning ind evening prayers has been substiuted the morning and evening dress, md fashion sits and rules the world tolay with a rod of iron. And men in luthority today have gone so far as to lesignate a law provided for the vinlicatlon of God's holy law in our cites, "A senseless ordinance." Now I isk. does this kind of conduct bring iuman happiness? Does the knowledge >f the most elegant dress and the most ikillful handling of the game bring lappiness? Solomon said of all such, 'Vanity and vexation of spirit'' Does letting God's law at defiance bring happiness? "Be not deceived; God Is not nocked, for whatsoever a man soweth, hat shall he also reap." Let us see an example. Jacob was i man who carefully observed family ellgion, he also indulged a little pride >f dress on his favorite son. The coat >f many colors served as the messenger of sorrow to Jacob; the family reIglon was the anchor of Joseph's soul, tnd fortified him In the hour of tsrnpatlon and comforted him in prison and iirected him wisely in prosperity. Neblchadnezzar defied God and was driven from his throne and from among nen to eat grass with the ox. Truly, 'Pride goeth before destruction, and a laughty spirit before a fall." Teach a child godliness and his soda) enjoymenti will adjust ltsdlf in a vay to give men perfect and permanent happiness. Not to recognize this ruth is to refuse to heed the admoniion: "Seek ye first the kingdom of Sod and his righteousness." That the Bible is the best legal code has long ilnce been demonstrated, and that it s the best social coae is no ma au; >f demonstration. It brings material prosperity. It continues prosperity, it points out the way of getting the most rood out of life, It brings peace into :he home under every condition, "For godliness is profitable unto all things, -laving the promise of the life that now is and that which Is to come." Then there Is reflex blessing to the parent. It brings peace and comfort to the leart of the parent, not only in the ponsclousness of duty performed, but In the realization of the promise: 'Bring up a child in the way he should ?o, and when he Is old he will not depart from It." And when the parent has grown old, as good old Jacob, they will forget all their sorrow in hearing 'their children rise up and call them blessed." In place, of seeing them going down to the drunkard's grave or the felon's cell, or what Is worse, become scoffers at the church of the living God, they will see them an honor to the state and family. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." W. C. Ewart. The Czar's Ancestry. In the middle of the fourteenth century Kobyla, a chieftain of Llthuanfal, was driven from his own country for holding fast to paganism and refusing Christianity, fleeing 10 muwu.j, ...o abilities as a warrior were welcomed by the Czar Ivan I. So promising a career opened before him that Kobyla renounced the heathen worship for which he had suffered exile, and was baptized into the church under the name of Andrew. In course of events his family became known as the Romanoffs, and in 1547 Ivan IV. took Anastasia Romanoff to wife. The Romanoffs thus became a notable party In the court of the ar. With the death of Ivan the Terrlble's son Feodor and the assassination of the rightful successor, Dimltrl, in 1591, the house of Rurik came to an end after reigning over Russia for 720 years. Anarchy then rent Russia asunder. Poles, Swedes and Muscovite nobles struggled for and successively usurped the throne. By virtue of his relationship with the late czar, Feodor Romanoff was one of the claimants. His ability and wisdom so enhanced his claims that his rival, Boris Godonoff, compelled him to become a priest and so debarred him from the throne. , Profiting by these internecine struggles, the Poles seized Moscow. In despair, the Russians were about to accept the King of Poland's sovereignty, when a butcher of Novgorod raised the people In a patriotic effort which drove out the invaders. The nobles, clergy and burgesses were summoned to Moscow to elect a czar. The assembly met In Lent, 1613. After stormy debates Michael Romanoff was elected king. * He was a youth of seventeen and the sole reason of his election was that he was the son of his father, Feodor. Thus began the reign of the Romanoffs.?Chicago News.