Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A SNOWDROP. O wonderful, immaculate. White herald of the spring, No winter can be desolate That besara so sweet a thing! Soft, snowy petals strip'd with green. Deep hidden heart of gold, The world that hath sr.ch beauty seen Can never mo?e be.cld. No shades of rtfddy right suffuse Thy petals cool and pure. The roseless, chill auroral dews Alone thy lips allure. Thou art not freak'd with purple stains, Nor Are of scarlet bright, But s?ver'd hy the silvery rains And touched with"vernal light. *"?> And I, who once the roses lov'd, Allegiance bring to li?e, j Well knowing thou; wilt ?e'er hep?oY'd So wan to^. or soiree; But, cloistered from'tie wild wind's breath, Nor flaunting in the sun, Wilt lend a beauty e'en to death When thy"|>ure lif^spdone. . -New York Times. HER'GUARDSMAN. In a small hon se in Cl arges street a girl cf 18 stood in her presentation dress, while her Jong: three yards and a half of white satin train trailed behind ber. A maid knelt on the ground, pick - ing ont here and there a leaf from the sprays of lilies of the valley. Marjorie looked in the mirror and patted a rebellious curl. " I feel excited. I can't help it Oh, mother, I wish it were like a story, the country mouse being taken to court and a real live i duke or earl falls in love with little mouse. I shall be in the midst of this great world soon. I wish something really romantic could happen. " "You'll have to take the taskmaster, Love, into your bargain with Fate, dear,1 ' said Mrs. Beauchamp. And Marjorie bid her face in her lovely bouquet cf lilies of the valley, white orchids and white violets, and hex heart gave a quick throb. There was a "somebody" then. Per? haps no .'belted earl nor strawberry leaved duke, but a handsome, sunburned face looked into hers, the mellow voico had whispered. . * * * * . . It was later on the same day, the car? riages in endless strings down the mali, ' an eager crowd pressing close to all the > windows, making their remarks freely. "This waiting is very tiring," said Marjorie, "and I am so hungry." "The gates are opened. We shall soon "be in, my dear," said Lady Hamilton, taking, a sip of sherry from a convenient fl ask. They had come now to the line cf -sentries, the guardsmen standing like statues. The sunshine coming out in a. great sheaf of splendor almost dazzled Marjo? rie, as looking through the glass windows ?he was conscious of one of the guards? men on duty watching her intently. His bearskin almost hid his eyes and brow. Was she dreaming or was there dis? tinct recognition in that soldier^sglance? The sweeping brown mttstache concealed his mouth. She looked at him again, the carriage moved forward, he, smiled. She bent forward, and her face dimpled into a smiling response; impulsively she I ^way^-lwE-haacL---.-n . .-, ~. "To whom, may I ask, were you bowing?" said Lady Hamilton severely. "I recognized some one, auntie, in the crowd, ' ' faltered Marjorie. And her aunt, noting the sudden rush, of color and shining eyes, grew sus? picious. "A man was the only cause for that kind of emotion," she thought sagely. Marjorie almost forgot that Leeting look while making her bow to her maj? esty. But the guardsman did not intend she. should forget. A brilliant scheme j had entered his mind. . *.?.* ? ? Truly, only a guardsman scribbling i away for dear life, in ail the barrenness of barrack surroundings, but he knew he had finished forever with the long, tedious marches. The pipeclaying, the "brass rags" could be chucked away, the parade ground need hear no longer the tread of Corporal Ferguson's feet, no more lonely watches in the tower, when the thought of Anne Boleyn's ghost to keep him company was not cheering. Coodby to the arduous life of "rough? ing, " goodby to the jarring influences which had surrounded him for two years-years of stern discipline and hard training. He had come out of it well And what was he writing, scheming lover, full cf ardent fervor? His last test! A sweet little letter, scented deli? cately, lay next to his heart. This is what sin said: "Do not lead me to do wrong or to deceive. Yon must let me tell my moth? er, and I am ready to face the future with you. I will meet you once again, but I cnn no longer keep it secret." "Ba?l young man!" he chuckled, and j Marjorie Beauchamp that same day re? ceived this epistle : "Dear, sweet Marjorie, companion of my thoughts and highest aspirations, j when I saw you a fortnight ago, I was determined fate should never sever us again. Darling, how good you have been to me, and I shall not try that lov? ing heart another day. You are ever in my mind, my best thoughts are of you, and my one great longing is to win you for my very own. " She looked very sweet in her picture hat covered with violets as she walked into her mother's room, dressed for & walk. "Mother," she said, geing over to lier and turning very pale; "mother. I can? not keep my secret from you any lon? ger.;> "A secret, dear child? Why, no, of course not," said Mrs. Beauchamp ten? derly, and put out her hand. "Mother, do you remember two years ago I went on a visit to our old cousin James. When I was there, I met a love? ly girl. Constance Ferguson. Do you re? member my telling you how I helped nurse her? And-and a brother of hers, Charlie Ferguson, had just arrived from Australia." "Well, my child, what cf it?" "I was only 16, mother, and he said I was so young, and he had a hard life in front of him. He had quarreled with bis uncle and was practically cast oft. I Mother, can't you guess? I have seen j him again-I love him !" i The bright head was bowed and hot i tears splashing down, j "Read this, mother. He wishes me j to meet him today in the park, and he j says he has some great news to tell me. He is better off." "But what is he now, Marjorie?" "He is in the guards, mother." I "In the guards!" said the poor lady, j bewildered. "Then he must be very I well off indeed." "Ko, mother, na He enlisted. He is Sonly a corporal." ! "Only a corporal !" cried Mrs. Beau I champ, clasping her hands. "In a dread ? ful red coat ! You have been seen out I with him I Good heavens, Marjorie !" ! T Oh, mother, don't be so horrified! I j call him my pillar box, and he says I was tue bravest girl he knew to meet him, and after I did he said he would come and see you and explain. And I ; am to marry him. And, after all" ! winding up her incoherent speech dra? matically-"it isn't the coat that makes the man ! And, mother, may I go and meet him and bring him back?" "Oh, Marjorie !" cried her poor moth? er, "what would your aunt say? I sup I pose I must consent to seeing him. He certainly writes a charming letter." . * * * * * . "In the face of everybody, not ashamed?" said Ferguson a little quiz? zically, as he and his sweetheart got up from their chairs in Rotten row. She looked up half shyly at the tall, hand? some guardsman. "And now that you know everything, Marjorie, will you forgive my putting yon to such a test?" "I love you," she whispered, blush? ing hotly. "But, oh, how glad mother will be!" They were walking along gayly, she the perfection of dainty prettiness, trip? ping along at bis side, mauy curious and even inquisitive glances following the pair. "Look, Charlie," cried Marjorie,'her face dimpling into mischievous laugh? ter; "there's auntie just passed us, driv? ing. Look ; she's turning back to look at us. Oh, her face! Isn't it a picture?" Lady Hamilton alighted from her carriage simply trembling with indig? nation. She swept into her sister's room, her silk dress knocking down a table, a vase and some books, the plumes in her bonnet nodding formidably. "Helena," she cried, "something too ? terrible has occurred. Y'our daughter my niece-is out walking with a com- i mon soldier." I "My dear Eliza, l ean explain,'' fal? tered Mrs. Beauchamp. "Don't--don't j be angry. The youngman ison his way I here now" "On his way now!" almost shrieked Lady Hamilton. "You are going to let a man in a red coat and white belt en? ter this house! Helena, you should en? ter a lunatic asylum. This-this is ap? palling." They heard a joyous little laugh. And Lady-Hamilton rose to face them. Mrs. Beauchamp felt faint from emo? tion. What could be wrong when Mar? jorie wore-sucb. a lovely look? And a gleam of mirth in her eyes too. And t^n^pJher^wjDne of. the finest looking fellows she had seen in her life fill up the doorway with his tali figure. "Mother-auntie-let me introduce '< you . to my lover, the guardsman, and soon to *-be my husband-the Earl of |Desart" I "Please forgive me, Mrs. Beau- I champ," he said in a whining way. "I ! claimed my discharge today, only to take orders, though, in another service. " And here Marjorie's hand was clasped in his. j * * * . . * e I Lady Hamilton a year later presented the son and heir with a silver mug aud a box of tin soldiers.-Forget-Me-Not. General Gordon's Seal. The seal which General Gordon used I on all the dc-uments he signed while ; shut up in Khartum had a history, j which is narrated in the "Life of Chauncy Maples," missionary bishop of Likoma, east central Africa. While at Cairo the bishop stopped at the house of a friend named Plover, of whom he writes: Floyer had seen a great deal of Gen? eral Gordon aud showed me one very interesting letter-the last he received from him. The occasion of it was inter? esting. Floyer had volunteered to pre? pare Gordon a seal with his name in Arabic characters upon it. For this pur? pose he chose an old coin, which he partially melted and refashioned. When the seal was completed, it was found that two words that had been on the coin were still legible. The words were in Arabic and signified "The Mes? senger of God. ' ' Gordon noticed them and was much pleased, and in the letter in question commented on them, saying he prayed he might always remember to be as the messenger of God to the Sudan people. A Pony's Intelligence. A correspondent writes from Abbots? bury to Nature Notes: "The other day when we were having lunch we heard a strange scratching sound, and then as if some one were trying to turn the handle of the door. Our housemaid went and opened the door to see what it was, and there stood the baker's pony aud cart. His master had left him in the road while he went to the next house, and the pon ? had turned rouud aud himself tried to open the door. Of com se we were much amused to hear what it was, and the door was shut again. The next minute came one loud, decided knock, evidently from the door knocker. 'That can't be the cony, ' we all cried at the same time, rushing to the door, but it was. He was standing with his front feet on the pavement, quietly waiting, aud very pleased at his success. Of course we gave him some bread, biscuits and sugar as a reward for his clever? ness. He must have taken the knocker in his teeth." Though the French are the greatest mushroom eaters in the world, cases of poisoning very rarely occur owing to the fact that almost all the mushrooms eaten ore raised. ! O?d Thins?. ! " 'As easy as an old shoe,J is a fa i miliar saying," said Mr. Staybolt, "and I there can be no doubt that an old shoe j is a mighty comfortable thing. After j we have "worn the new shoes, close fit? ting, hard and formal, how gladly we put them off, and with what joy we put on the shoes that are old and worn and familiar to the feet! Old shoes, how? ever, are not the only things old that we like. We like an old bed, if it is not too old, but just old enough, so that while still soft and comfortable it is also shaped somewhat to the body, which it supports at every point, yield > ing a degree of comfort which not the finest of beds can afford when it is new. "But it is so with all things old, that are not too old, including old habits. We cling to them so long as they give us comfort, and we hate to change. We are creatures of habit, who would if we could follow to the end along the first comfortable rut we fall into and never look out above ifs sides. And it is well for us that our shoes wear out and that we have to buy new ones and wear them, that we are in various ways compelled to change, that we are root? ed out now and then and set going anew."-New York Sun. The Passion of the Hoar. Every year modern habits become I more unlovely and modern sensibilities more blunted. The preservation of what is beautiful, per se, at the present time is almost always ridiculed, unless it can be shown to be joined to some profit or utility. The characteristic passion of the hour is greed-greed of possession, desire of acquisition and passion for osten? tation. Trade has become an octopus em? bracing the whole world. The thirst [ for gain engrosses all classes. Beauty, unless it be a means of gain, is to this temper a useless, or worse than a use? less, thing; it is regarded as a stumbling j block and incumbrance. It is doubtful if even the power of perceiving what is beautiful has not in a great measure left a large part of the population in all countries. Modern cities would not be what they are now had not the race to a great extent grown color blind and be? come without the sense of proportion : Modern builders and modern engineers would remain unoccupied were not the generations which employ and enrich them destitute of all artistic feelings. Ouida in Fortnightly Review. The Birthplace of Josephine. Fort de France, Martinique, is the strongest fortified point the French own in America. It is both a military and naval station, and a fort was erected on a mountain top there years ago, which has since been improved and strength? ened by some of the most modern guns known in warfare. During the civil war the United States cruiser Kearsarge chased the Con? federate blockade runner Alabama into the harbor^ and was on the point of opening fire on her when the authorities forbade it. Here they remained for some time, and during a stormy night the Alabama slipped out and disappeared in the Caribbean sea Several times the place has been bad- i ly damaged by tropical cyclones, during which hundreds lost their lives. It is noted as being the birthplace of the Empress Josephine ; a life size piece of statuary of her adorns the principal plaza. The fort has had for years but one family-the king of Dahomey and his six wives, whom the French captur ed after great trouble iu the African wilds and imprisoned.-Philadelphia Record. Why He Didn't Finish. ; Fred Buskirk was boru at Ports- '. mouth, 0., and lived there until he was a young man. Fred naturally thinks Portsmouth is one of the nicest places j in the state of Ohio. Fred said: "Every body evidently doesn't think as well of j Portsmouth as I do. j "Not long ago I went over the Ches- j apeake and Ohio road and when the train reached South Portsmouth, which is across the river from my native place, quite a long stop was made. Most of the male passengers got off the train and walked up and down the platform. It Was after dark, and the many lights of I Portsmouth were plainly visible. I stood j looking across the river at the city, j thinking what a fine place Portsmouth | was, when a fellow passenger on the j train came alongside of me and said, 'Can you tell me what place that is j across the river?' Of course I could tell him, and I threw out my chest and with considerable pride said: 'That is Ports- I mouth, O. Have you ever been there?' j My fellow traveler in a ery weary ! voice, replied: 'Yes, I have been there, j I spent about two weeks there one aft? ernoon. ' I had intended telling that maa about what a charming place Portsmouth is, but after his rudeness I 1 concluded not to."-Cincinnati Eu- ! quirer. Didn't Want Much. Here is au advertisement from au ole copy of an English provincial journal : "Wanted, for a sober family, a man of lightweight, who fears the Lord and can drive a pair of horses. He must oc? casionally wait at table, join the house? hold prayer, look after the horses and read a chapter of tho Bible. He must. God willing, arise at 7 o'clock in tho morning and obey bis master and mis tress in all lawful commands; if he can dress hair, siug psalms aud play at cribbage, the more agreeable. Wages. 15 guineas a year. " Hospital For Trees. There is a hospital for trees on thc banks of the Seine iu Paris. Trees which grow sick along the boulevards are taken here to recover. The ur-heen, cr Chinese violin, iu shape resembles an ordinary hammer with its handle. It has two strings and ie played with a bow. His honor the magistrate is about the only honor to be found among thieves. -Chicago News. BANK'S PART IN FARMING. How the Traders In Money i: nab te Soil Tillers to Work. Kow does a bank help the farmer? With the approach of the time for plowing and planting, seeds and fer? tilizer will be necessary-. Kow can the farmer buy them if the last season was EL poor . one? He has spent all of his earnings in running the household dur? ing the long winter. He goes to the dealer in fertilizer in the nearest Til? lage and asks, "What is the price of fertilizer a ton?" "Fifty dollars, " the dealer replies. "Well, I will need two tons, and that will amount to $100. " "Yes. Take it along now?" "I haven't the ready cash just now, but" "Oh, that's all right. I know you're good for it. Take it along and give me your note payable in four months. By that time your crops will be yielding a profit ' ' j The farmer gives his note; the dealer indorses it and gives it in payment to the "wholesaler from whom he gets the fertilizer; the wholesaler sends it to the manufacturer of the fertilizer, who in turn takes it to his bank and borrows the money on it less the interest. The farmer gets his seed in the same way and at the time of the expiration of the notes is able to meet his obliga? tions. Thus, instead of the farmer being compelled to wait until he can get the cash to pay before he can buy the fer? tilizer and seed, he obtains them when he needs them. The dealer, instead of having to wait until the farmer gets the money before he can sell his goods, sells them in the proper season and receives what is dp him practically cash. The wholesaler receives from the retailer what is as good as cash to him, and the manufacturer receives virtually cash from the wholesaler. How would all this be possible were it not that the bankers had collected the idle money of ether people and were able to lend it out to good advantage? The farm would go unplanted; the ground would go unfilled ; there would be no crops to yield a profit. That's where the bank helps the farmer.-2s ew York Press. GOLD FILLED TEETH. More of che Metal Goes Into Them Than Can Bc Got Oat. An example of some of tho queer ex? periences people have when they are called upon to buy a thing with which j they are not familiar and which they I have need of only on rare and unusual ! occasions is thus set forth by the Mil I waukee Sentinel : A young womin who worked as a domestic went to a dentist to get her teeth repaired. He repaired them and sent a bill of $8.?. He justified himself for the charges by explaining how much the fillings cost him. In one hol? low tooth, he said, he put $10 worth of gold. The bill was paid, and recently, when the little nugget (said.to be worth $10) came out, the woman took" it to a goldsmith and had it appraised. He ? weighed it scrupulously and valued it \ at 48 cents. She no longer has faith in her dentist, j It seems to be always good taste to ! "go shopping" among the dentists be? fore having any considerable amount of work done. There is considerable hum buggery about the business in some quarters. The public is told that $15 is I a '?'air price for a crown and stands j ready to pay it, cn the ground that i good worl? deserves good pay. A few I blocks away the same work was done last week for ?5, just as well as if * 1a had been paid, and it was done by a reputable dentist. One dentist figured on $85 for six teeth, and another 'J 00 : yards away performed the service for $30.-Philadelphia Times. The First Chinese Baby Show. j The first Chinese baby show in the ? world has just been held here. There ? were 200 of them. From embroidered slipper to shaven poll they were arrayed in their best. They wore satin blouses that shone in the sun with a silvery shimmer. They wore embroideries of wonderful birds and bees and flowers I never seen on land or sea. The little I boys were shaven, and the little girls I had their hair stiffened and polished ! and dressed as though for the grandest j function, with little birdcages and I fringes of beads and paper atop. There ! were great tinklings of metal and much I shining of green jade. A new fashion ! in infant headgear showed a halo of stiff i pompons that rose above the infants' I somber eyes. Others wore huge rosettes of silk on eac.i temple, like a joss, and one little girl bad a mane of black silk cue strings hanging down from the back of her ke&d. Even the baby com? plexions had been looked after. On tho smooth, yellow cheeks appeared the most lovely patch of pink rouge, put on quite frankly in the Chinese fashion. The rosebud mouths were touched up. and the narrow brows beautifully pen? ciled.-Penang Gazette. Humors of the Dublin Gallery. The humor of the Dublin gallery has long been proverbial. Maeready, in his "Reminiscences, " relates that on one occasion when playing Otway's "Venice Preserved," .Tamer's long and radier drowsy d\'ing speech was interrupted by ono of the gallery, in a tono of great impatience, calling out very loudly, "Ah, now dio at once!" to which an? other from tbe other side immediately replied, ' Be quiet, you blackguard," then turning with a patronizing tone to the lingering .Tafiier, "Take your time. "-Cornhill .Magazine. Facet ia? by Lincoln. Wo read this paragraph yesterday in the catalogue of an Kdiuburgh booksel? ler: "Facetia*-A Legacy of Fun, by Abraham Lincoln, with short sketch ni' his lift;. 12uio, newly half-bound, un? cut, -4s. (id. London lS(i5. " Is it possible that 500 ye.irs from now Lincoln will be regarded as a surr ot* ai: American Millar?-Boston Journal SUCCESSFUL DIPLOMACY. The Value of Tact In Dealing: With Un? disciplined Laborers. "It looked as if the road would not-. could, not, be finished before the crack of doom-certain ly uot in time to save our charter," said the contractor. It was nearly midnight-a good hour for story telling-and the speaker was full of his subject He said he would explain how they succeeded in building a piece of railway in Georgia "just ; after the war. " " We called our road the R., D. and j S. It is now an important link in the Great Southern system. But the thing : hung fire and our franchise was imper? iled just because labor was so uncer? tain. The blacks were drunk with free ? dom. Three days' work a week would have helped us, but it didn't average so much. Like the Hebrews of old, they spend as much time going up to tho feast days and return iug as at the jubi? lee itself. Sunday had its preparation just about the time the last week's high day was spending its force, and the men were unfitted for work. "The case was desperate. At about the worst stage I was sent down from New York to do what was possible. Studying it thoroughly, my mind was soon set on one last recourse. I went to Atlanta and made an ironclad contract to purchase all the possum and coon from che commission men in that city. Securing a big circus tent and cooks, ? caused the notice to be sent far and wide that on Sunday the close of the following week there would be 'a pos? sum and coon' dinner free to every man who had done a week's honest work on the construction. "Well, that was a busy time on the road. No lack of hands. Men came from all over the district, and the road made an evident advance. Then Sunday came, and every colored man had his feast, for there was an abundance. I got their attention afterward and promised for the next Sunday another possum and coon dinner on the same terms viz, a full week's work-pledging in the meantime that no man should bo abused. "However, to keep them from scat ! tering, I introduced a debating society, j Dividing them into sides, under judges and debaters of their own choice, I gave them the subject, 'Which is the mother of the chicken, the hen that lays the egg or the hen that hatches the chicken?' There was no necessity to keep that as? sembly from straying. The arguments were strenuous^ and weighty, the audi? ences were wild with delight, the fun was furious. "When the next feast day came and the possum and coon had been served, we introduced a little side show, let? ting one negro iuto the tent in turn to try the trick of standing on one foot on an upturned brick, holding the other foot and leaping. Of course nine out of ten landed on their heads, but the un? successful were too eager to watch the next attempt, and so the day passed. To the surprise of the old planters the construction was effectively done. It proved the value of possum and coon as a factor in railroad building in those early days."-Chicago Record. Dress In Miss Austen's Time. In point of comfortable warmth we have advanced greatly since the days when my mother wore white muslin dresses indoors and out, as the ladies dc in Miss Austen's novels. The alterna? tive was a riding habit in winter aud summer. My mother was married in a blue riding habit and a white beaver hat and feathers. Even half a century ago the poor little tender babies display? ed their dear little dimpled necks and arms in all weathers. Sweet little cherubs they looked in their white frocks. Now they are well wrapped up in woolen and gain in health what they lose in beauty. We little girls were not much better off. Our frocks were made? with short sleeves and half low bodices, tied round with a string. They were most miserable-always slipping off one's shoulder unless thc string were drawn so tight as to cut into the flesh. Long sleeves were tied on with tapes to the short one, aud a cape-pelerine, as it was called-or a spencer, a hideous garment, added out of doors. It was the height of my ambiticu to wear a shawl. All grown up ladies wore shawls, piuned round the throat or on the shoulders. It was quite impos? sible to arrange (at least none but a Frenchwoman could) these heavy Indian or Paisley shawls gracefully. It was better. in the summer, when black or white lace was substituted, or a loug scarf, without fastening, hung from tho shoulders and was always slipping into the dust or dirt. Round capes, called "cardinals, " were a great improvement, and the "visites" led the way to jackets and coats, and-most comfortable of all for rough work-ulsters. - Cornhill Magazine. Last of a Famous Oak. One of the results of a recent wind I and rain storm was the destruction of I the large oak tree on Bcdloc's island i from which, tradition says, the pirate j Hicks paid the penalty of his crimes a j century ago. The old tree stood cn the westward slope of the island near the Liberty statue electric light plant aud until a year ago was green and vigorous. In one of the storms of last summer j lightning struck the tree, shattered its j trunk and ruined many of its brandies. j _ John 13. Hines, one of tho keepers of j the Liberty statue, made souvenirs of ; pieces of the tree and sold them tovisit j ors at the direction of the committee : having charge of the statue. The truuk of the Hicks tret; withstood ! the storms of last winter, but in this ; recent thunderstorm ic '.vas torn iuto ; fragments which were scattered over ; the island.-New York Sun. ! upon the long girdle. A sudden idea ; came to me. I would get that belt and j subject it to thc X rays. Get that belt? i I laughed to myself. I might as well ' try to photograph tho depth of the sea. j "You go to Egypt, doctor?" says If jou want a good, bonnet sewing michioe ; trade, te.- Rst.die. THE JACK POT TEST. KOW A MEAN GAMBLER SPRUNG IT ON SiSTER ABIGAIL Se Wanted Another Prcof of & Theory Concerning a Womanly Weakness and Got It at the Expense of Uncle Uriah's Opponents at Poker. Bent, but tall, with sparse whiskers seldom trimmed, nearly 70 years old, Uncle Uriah used to sit in the poker game in Omaha, his long, thin fingers tremblingly placing his chips and his old eyes glittering as he timorously skinned his hand. Pathetically like Lit? tle Nell's grandfather he looked some? times, but he was at no desperate shift to obtain a stake, for he was the pos? sessor of a competence, and he brought into the game the saving grace of the parsimony to which he had been habit? uated in his earlier days in a New Hampshire home. He never bought more than $5 worth cf chips at a time. These he would for the most part ante away waiting for aces or better, and when he finally did get a good hand a bare call represented the climax of his enterprise. In those days there was always a game on Sunday afternoons, and Uncle Uriah, although a devout Methodist, conld be counted upon to arrive directly after service and to sit in nntil the time for afternoon Sunday school. The boys used to joke him at first and ask him if he had sneaked his stake out of the con? tribution box, but to this question and to all others of similar levity he op? posed a scared seriousness which showed that his passion for the game was more a weakness than a vice. Uncle Uriah lived with his two sis? ters-Abigail, aged 63, and Ann, aged 55. In .New Hampshire they had been called "the girls, " but in Omaha the irreverent, with rude directness, referred to them as "Uncle Uriah's old maids." It did not take the boys in the game long to discover that Uncle Uriah was in much fear of Abigail in general and in mortal dread that she would discover his besetting weakness. He would al? ways shy at a new player, and he fre? quently held forth to the boys on the impropriety of talking on the outside about the features of the game. "I sh'dhate tohev the parson know, " he used to say. "I wouldn't keer so much 'bout Ann, 'cause she's easy skeered, but I wouldn't hev Sister Abi? gail know fer the biggest jack pot t'was ever played on this here table!" There was never any solution to the mystery of how Sister Abigail discover? ed the obliquity in Uncle Uriah's life. Some officious neighbor may have told her, or in an excess of caution Uncle Uriah himself may have aroused her definite suspicions. At any rate, cn a particular Sunday afternoon he arrived at the room at the regular time, but without the key with which he, in common with other participants in the game, had been provided. The negro at? tendant admitted him, and he was soon engrossed in the play. There was a good jack pot on the ta? ble. Uncle Uriah was in and was deal? ing. It was his last say, and the two men ahead of him had bet $10 each. He had drawn one card, and the play was up to him. He had net, however, look? ed at his draw when the key turned in the snap lock of the front door, and Sis? ter Abigail, pale with a righteous and terrible rage, strode into the room and up to the table. "Gamblin!" she cried. "And on the, Lord's day, with the church bells ringin outside and decent people fiockin to his worship. I expected to find you here, you hypocrite!" she weut on, turning to Uncle Uriah. "You better get on your duds right now and come home." "I was comin in a jiffy," the cid man said, weak with fear. "I guess I might as well go 'long with you as with anybody else. " He rose and steadied himself by holding the chair. Seth Coe was the coolest hand in the gama Even Sister Abigail had uot dis? concerted him. He reached over and turned up Uncle Uriah's hand. It was a flush. "You better straighten this pot out before you go, uncle, " said Coe. "You call, of course. I suppose a flush is good?" Coe asked, turning to the other players. They nodded assent. Coe stack? ed up the chips. .'Forty-three dollars here," he said, pushing them toward Uriah. Tho old man startsd instinctively to? ward the pot and then remembered Sis? ter Abigail. He stopped and waited tremblingly for her decision. It seemed to the players, who turned from the weak and timid old mau to the dominant woman, that at this cru? cial test something of her moral rigidity relaxed. She did not sweep the chips to the floor. Sho said nothing about ill gotten gains. With a visible effort she overcame a slight nervous constriction of the throat. She grasped her skirts firmly and swept toward the door. "Uriah, "she said, with great dig? nity, "I will wait for you in the hall at th3 foot ot the stairs." After Uncle Uriah had obtained his $43 and departed Seth Coe said in his leisurely way: "The old man didn't have a flush. I slipped in a card to fill it out for him. I reckoned yon fellows wouldn't miud payin once more for positive proof that, no matter what kind of a woman she is, she's always in with your play when you win the pot. "-New York Sun. Careful. It is related of a certain clergyman ia Edinburgh that he was so careful of his quotations and so fearful of the charge of plagiarism that once, in addressing the Deity, he surprised the congregation by saying, "And thou knowesr, dear Lord, that, to quote a writer in a late number of The Quarterly Review, " etc. Hood's Stimulate the stomach. c a 9 rouse the liver, cure bilious- ? I I AW^ ness, headache, dizziness. I g ? sour stomac1-. constipation. ? ? ? ? mmw etc. l*ricc '2S cents. Sold or all druggists. 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