Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, March 7, 1904, Page 4

8-18-Tumbermen's Stato Bank, loan. HiE28—Beltrami County, taxes....... —J. Spr: —-\Ves " Whght, dray —Jordan cemetery lot —Thom & Meyer licens 4—John Beckman shooting license, cloth b, Wheelock Beckm gallery nderson & Buckl Hall rent, Wheelock —M. Ripple licens TWhoelack, hall rent - —Two cemetery 1o —C. M. Bacon license —Balance C. M. Bacon lcense 2—J. Wood shooting g 3—Peddlers’ license . -26—Johnson & Lindeberg 9—John Wood license 1 —Cemetery lot, John Kline . 3 —Hall rent. \Vlnel(mk 3 —Achenbach lice 3 —Cemetery lot, Larke s 9 -1 -1 license . . Lt SR -8 -2 —Millback cemetery lot —John Wood shooting 0—Quaker Medicine Co. 2—Quaker Medicine 6-12—Bal. John Wood license §-13—Dry Goods licens 1903, §-13—Weetman bowling §-13—Quaker Medicine §-16—0le Ander: 6-23—H. Thompson §-20—Quaker Mml{ ne Co. nl.w —Quaker Medici o Medicine Co. u license all ren soasanasanananan ke 5—Qualker Medicine ¢ 6—Quaker Medicine Co. licen; 6-29—Robert Nelson I 6. L {—Merry-Go-iound —Wheelock hall rent Go-Round . » on street . 0—Cemeter nt, Wheelock R §-26—Loui 8-29——Hall rent —Three cemeter —Cemetery lot Bleu ceme agnon 1 ‘metery an licens $15.00. A. Harr . Miles Dcens shooting galler meter i 1257, ‘Montgomery cemoiory ot on and Wallace a lock hall rent. . 11-11—Pedla 11-16—Hall rent. Toot-ball ‘danc, 11-17—Chas. Campbell 1 11-20—Torkelson cemete 11-21—Bennington cemgtery 11-23—W. F. Street cémete 11-24—Munhall license 1221 —Hall rent, Wheelock 12-1 —James Thurston license - 92-3 —Water fund 12-8 —Mrs. Plummer 12-17—Miles license 12-21—Geo. McTage 12- 22—McDonald license 1 M. Dudley licens; fund —Cemetery - lot —W. S. Bohannan , Colar: d ceme! T naton 4 C. Larson 1 M. E. Current cemctery 1-20—Hall rent, Wheel 1 et 2 2211—Hall rent 2-16—Current e; e: 2-23—Chr. —Duncalf appli W Total received from record Recelved of Justices Reynolds, Sk H.'W. ‘Bailey, fines 5 Total Sundries All licen: Fines fines Tota colpts of village This Is 0 certify that the examined and found correct. A RANDOM SHOT [Original.] While acting as an independent de- tective at Chicago ome night about 10 o’clock a scrap of paper was left at my door on which was written in a wom- an’s hand, “Barney Redfield, who rob- bed the —th National bank of Denver, will be at No. — R— avenue tonight.”” | 1 had never seen Redficld or his pie- ture snd knew nothing about him ex- 2pt that there was a reward.of $5.000 offered for his capture. I knew noth- ing of the house in R— avenue. All I could do was to go there and be guided by circumstances. 1 found the house brilliantly lighted and guests entering under an awning. | I*walked in with the rest. Though I was’not in evening dress I had on an overcont, so this did not matter for the entrance. I was shown up to the gen- tlemen's dressing room, where I re- mained without taking- off my overcoat till the otlbers had gone down. Then 1 resolved to look about me for apparel suitable to the occasiou. Going to the floor above, which was deerted, 1 ran- sacked closets and drawers, finding nothing till I came to a room in which a dress sujt, shirt, collar, cuffs and ‘@ pair of black silk stockings were spréad out on the bed. while a pair of low shoes were-on the floor. Bome one was expected for whom they had been made ready. 1 put them on Aand_went dawns; = = 2 I ran a great risk, for, though I could nm\‘el was a detective, I bad actually | stolen a sult of clothes and was prom- enading in them, it would be inferred. to steal othier things. Going down a winding stairease and seeing the host r, other than fines treasurer. accounts of the rec: Evidently~| 10.00 5,00 500,00 10.00 10,00 500.00 10,00 10200 10.00 50000 30,00 50000 15.00 10.00 490.00 500.00 5.00 10.00 25.00 500.00 5.00 10.00 5.00 5.00 500.00 500.00 50.00 10.00 5.00 5.00 500.00 0 20.00 5.00 500.00 5.00 100.00 5.00 5.00 500.00 10.00 500.00 o .00 5.00 5.00 50000 4 50000 51.81 10.00 10.00 70.00 100.00 20,00 4075 5.00 1000.00 15.00 500.00 10.00 10.00 500.00 5.00 10.00 20.00 500.00 25.00 0 1000 500.00 50000 500.00 is o0l rHB rter rent! {nvik and Achenbac W. N. BOWSER, JOHN GRAHAM, Auditing Committee. brary. I strofled about, keeping an eye on every one I met, but saw no inkling to lead me on. A young lady who prov- ed to be the daughter of the host sat for a long while in a window seat with a handsome young fellow with a very restless eye, but plenty of people have restless -eyes, and Barney Redficld would be more likely to spend his time looking for jewelry or silverware than spooning. After spending an hour dodging the members of the family 1 concluded to_go upstairs, when I heard a geutlcnu\n say: “There’s been a robbery. [Frank's clothes were lald out for him upstalrs. and when he arrived just now be found they ‘were gone.” For a moment my heart stood still, put, regaining my assurance and re- membering that if Barney Redfield were in the bouse and knew that the family were alarmed he would imme- diately make an egress, I said to the speaker: “I would suggest, sir, that the exits be -watched to prevent the thief’s es- cape,” “You are right,” he replied and de- parted to see that my suggestion was carried out. It was soon v ulout that the matter ‘of the loss of the dress clothes of I°rank, whoever Le might be, had got out among the guests, and had it not been that I was absorbed in watehing for gome man to show some anxiety. there- by indicating that he was vulnerable, 1 would have felt the unpleasantness of my position. As it was, I was not dis- concerted- tiii 71 - saw ‘thie hst coming toward me, his gaze fixed upon me twith no pleasant expression. He was followed by several others, all men. “I-beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but I do not recognize you.’ 1 was cornered. What should 1 say? and loatess “recelying puests in- the Anw!nz mom. -1 turned into the Ii- without speaking. “If you cannot give a reason for your being here, I shall send for the po- lice.” “Don’t stop for him to invent an ex- cuse,” said a guest, the man who had been attentive to the host's daughter. “The facy that he is unknown to you and a suit has been stolen should be sufficient. Here's Frank.” “Frank,” in business clothes, stepped up to me and after scrutinizing me took Lold of the lapel of the dress coat I wore, turned it up and displayed a pearl stick pin. ‘“Chat’s. my. suit,”. be said. . “I_ got that stick pin as a cotillon favor last week and put it in there.” Now, while this bad been golng on my observing faculties had been work- Ing. I took especial notice of the mo- tions and expression of the young man I had seen with the young lady. He seemed undlily excited, casting hur- ried glances at me, o8 If to make sure be had never seen me before. I must decide upon a plan for at least tem- porary use. Turning to the host, I sald coolly: i “May I ask a private interview? You don't wish a disturbance, I'm sure.” “Don’'t go off alone with him,” said the young man of whom I have been spenking. “Would you do me the favor to comt with us?” I said to him politely. The bost led us to a small room and shut the door. The young man's nerv- ousness increased. I don’t know what put it into my head, but I resolved to screen myself by accusing hin. “l came here to arrest Barney Red- fleld,” I sald. The man clutched at a chair. “And,” 1 continued, “having found my man”—I drew a pair of bracelets— “I bave accomplished my work.” “Great heavens!” exclaimed the host. My daughter’s afflanced husband!” I had fired at random and brought down the game I wanted. Redfield was born a gentleman in England. drifted to Australia and found no diffi- culty In keeping up the part fn Amer- fea. I gol Iny reward from the Denver bapk and a few thousand more from the man whom I had saved from a robber son-in-law. My informant was n girl Redfield was proposing to throw off for his new love. WILLIAM B. KNIGHT. IN CONVICT'’S DRESS [Copyright, 1803, by C. B, Lewis.] It was a dark, rainy evening in No- vember, and I sat in my room in East Norwich reading a book when I sud- denly fancied that there was a min under the bed in the alcove. Itewus only a fancy and one I could not uc count for, but I glanced in that direc. tion, and next minute my heart was in my mouth. It was a massive, old fashioned bed- stéad, with a valance or curtain falling to the floor around the front and 'the foot. Just peeping out from underthiy curtain was the toe of a shoe—a conrso, heavy shoe with hobnails in the sole. It was not the shoe worn by mechanics or day laborers, but I spotted it in un instant as a prison shoe. I hgdn’t the slightest doubt that tlere was an eseaped convict under the bed. It was sixteen miles to Penfield, and 1 had heard nothing of an escape, but the man under the bed was no doubt in prison uniform and from the instl- tution named. I had pretty good nerve in those days, and yet as I sat there trying to solve the problem I found my mouth as dry as cotton and ry whole body. trem- bling. You will perhaps say that I should have got up and walked out of the room and®downstairs.. To be hon: est with you, my knees were so weak that I feared they would not serve me, and I also feared that the convlet would suspect my design and voll out and attack me. While I admit that I was unnerved, I still had no thought of running away. By and by, as I continued to grope for a solution, I grew cooler, and present- Iy I did the best thing under the eir. cumstances. Doing my best to steady my voice and speaking as if to one be side me; T sald:. “You might as well come out from _under the bed. ¥y man, [ have known of your prevemce there for this half hour, and you must be tired by this time.” The toe suddenly disappeared. “I think you had better come out,” 1 continued. “You are here on an. er rand, and the sooner you accomplish it the sooner you can go. The men from Penficld will be on your heels before daylight.” "Then the man suddenly rolled into view and sprang to his feet with a muttered curse, He was in couviet’s uniform, but he was not an evil look- ing man. On the contrary, he looked to be more of a sufferer than a crim- inal. There was more pride in his face than might have been lovked for, and e had my sympathy at once. “Well?" 1 querled.as he stood star- ing at me. “1 shall never go back to prison-- never!” he exclaimed as bhe looked around the room. “I'll die right here. I’ve been in a living hell for ten long years, and the other hell can't be worse. I went to prison thinking to de my best, but as I held up my head they said T was too airy and must be broken down. T was punished again and again because 1 would not becoms a fawnlug sycophant, a creeping, crawling thing at the feet of a brutal Reeper. They starved me, loaded me" with chains, lashed me till they did not dare to add another blow. I was told that the gov- ernor rubbed his hands and laughe over it, and T swore I would Tive to es- cape and escape to drive a knife into his heart. I never knowingly Lroke a rule of the prison. It was becanse T would not iick the shoes of the keepers fhat they wanted to break me. 1 asked the man to take a chalr, and 1 gave him a glass of wine and a cigar. He was nonplused at my action and didn't know whether to receive it as kindness or as a scheme to entrap him. For a long hour he told me of bis life in thé famous English prison, of the beatings and- starvipgsoof the.eruelly and the curses heaped upon him every hour in the day to drive him ta rebel- lion, and when he had finished there was but one thing for me o do. I bad a hundred pounds in my wallet. I made an even divide with him. I had | What should I de? ¥ stared at him a rough and readv suit for fshing. I took this from my trunk and told the convict to exchange suits When u pair of shoes had been added and he stood fully dressed bis dentigy as a prisoner was gone. With a pair of selssors I clipped and trimmed his eyebrows, and a strip of plaster vas placed on bis checks us If o hide El ch. I cannot ¢ that he looked liike a gentleman when |n~ disguise was cowmplete, but no policew:n in Lngland would have taken him for thing else but a mechanic of the better ciass, 1 did pot ask where he was going, what he intended to do or auything about his future. I felt that he would fake care of all that. When he 13 1y to go we tiptoed downstuirs, and I let him out of the front. “I'icre he turned and todk my-hand and beld it for a long minute, He wanted to speak, to tell me of his gratitude, but be simply couldn’t get a word out. On my part I was sllent. So he passed out into the night and was gone, and an hour later the town was aroused by the advent of a dozen folicemen and prison guards looking for conviet No. 4220. He had escaped from Penfield by a bold stratagem and had so managed that pursuit was made in a false direction and much time lost. A larger reward was offered for Bim than for any prisoner who ever es- taped, but he got safely out of Eng- lund and, as far as 1 koow, has never been heard of since, His erime was highway robbery swith essault, and they said he was a desper- ate man, but I have never regretted that I aided his escape. It was justice to send him to prison as a punishment, bat It was not justice to beat and starve him and make hum curse the God who created him. M. QUAD. A PHILOPENA [Original] «There 18 an adage, “IHell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” It is not to be supposed that this eplgrammatic statement s true in cv case or in many cases. It Is intended to cover isolated cases—that Is, where a woman will deliberately set to work to injure a man who has jilted her. There are women thus treated who have pined In secret and still loved. There are cases where they have sacrificed for the man who bhas turned them off. But the woman who will stab and the woman who will sacrifice are rare, One evening at a dinner party Hen: ry Wolcott was sitting beside Hester Rowe, to whom he w engaged to be married. A tall girl with a flashing black eye and a pair of full, sensuous lips came in on the arm of her dinner companion and { ®: a seat directly opposite “the botrothed couple. Wol: cott turned pale. Tl lady who was scating herself was W .o Drummond. and Wolcott lind deliberately left her ufter an affair of the Leait to engage himself to Hester Rowe. Aiss Drum- mond had fascinated-lim in one way. Miss Rowe in another. The former had worked on all that was sensua! in him, the latter on all that was spir- {tual. Wolcott, whose nature was jm pressible in either way, finally yielded to the good influence of Miss Rowe. As soon as the lady entered, Wolcott turned to his companion and talked rapidly about—well, he did not know what he talked. When be turned and faced Miss Drummond he received a cordial bow. The ludy indicated that slie wished to be friendly. Wolcott was surprised. He fancied that she would cut him. During theé dinner she seemed to be in quite an exhilarated wood. B8he congratulated Wolcott on his en gagement and smiled affably on the lady of his choice. Before leaving. the table she exacted a promise from both that they would dine with her at a giv- en date. Wolcott, who was greatly re- lieved at her friendliness when be had expected the reverse, thought it pru- dent to accept the invitation, and per- sunded Hester to join with him. When the dinner came off Kate Drummond was seated at one end of the table, with Wolcott and his fian- cee on either hand. Wolcott in the nresence of his old flame felt, though he did not reveal it, something of ber former ‘influence. Kate brought bher snapping black eyes to bear on him, and ber tongue threw off a shower of words all intended to impress him. Hester sat very quietly eating Der din ner in a matter of fact way, and her betrothed could not but compare her unfavorably with the more brilliant Kate. “A philopena with you!” said-ate tc Wolcott and handed him one of those double kernels of the almond known by that name. *“With: ull my heart “Henry," snid his flancee, suddenly springing from indifference to an in- {ense interest in what was going on be- faore her, T do not care to have a philopena with any one ¢ Glve it to we.” Wolcott cast a quick, troubled glance rom one of the girls to the other. Kate was deathly pale. Hester's face anxious. You are forgetting, Hester,” he said “that we are in the presence of a lost- ess. “Give me the philopena,” sald es- ter. Kate looked on without a word, but with an eye darting between the two. Hester commanded with ber voico, but pleaded withher eyes. Wolcott tossed the philopena before her.. She ched it and held it tight- ly. - Wolcott, glancing-at Kate, saw ber eye fixed on his betrothed. It was the eye of a serpent meditating’a stroke at one by whom it W about to be killed. But the stroke did not fall. The scenc passed as qui it came, and apparently the soc was se- vene: At least that is how it appeared to Wolcott. “The betrothed couple did not remain long after dinner. Hester told the hostess that she w: nffering d to be ex d. When Wi ate’s hand before departing he noticed that it trembled. He looked into her eye. and he fancied that e saw desp: Wolcott and his betrothed rode home side by side without speaking. Sowe- thing W wrong, but be did not know what it He was inclined to blame Hestor.for her. actlon. though only on the ground that it was im- politic. e concluded to wait for an explanation till they got home. “Henry id Hester before entering the house, “you know about acids and tests for all sorts of things. 1 know fr about your course in analylical chemis: I while in college. Go to the nearest | drug store and- get some-acids to make a test with, Wolcott was by this time so mysti- fied that he obeyed the order like a lumb, wondering what would come next. Returning with several vials and | strips of litmus paper, he found He pxamining the philopena by a bri light. “Test it for polson,” she said, Wolcott started, looked at her as though ke thought her bereft of her senses, then' did her bidding. After ap- plying several tests he tried one that produced an effect. “Gireént heavens, 1t 18 poisop?? To Henry Wolcott ever afterw, mectings of Kate and Hester w ters of marvel. There were affable words, expressions of interest, some- tivaes, it would seem to an observeZ evon that they loved each other. Wol- cott,- who looked from behind the scenes, saw In Hester one who held a knife that she could drop at the slight- est rebeliion, in Kate a slave who wringed Lefore her mistress. ISABEL BEUTNER. ONE TO EIGHT [Original.) “It was back in the fifties,” sald the old sallor, “when ships were ships and not cooking stoves afloat, as they are now. I was mate of a sailing vessel, one of those long craft with masts run- ning against the clouds and canvas enongh to move a floating city. You don’t see "em nowadays, and you're not likely ever to see ’em again. There was comfort aboard such a ship as that —no smell of grease, no shaking of the engine, nothing but motion harmon'ous with the wind and waves. “One moonlight night when we were In the West Indies—we were lying at anchor off the island of Jamaica—the captaln and most of the crew were ashore, and ! was sitting on the quar- ter deck in the captain’s chalr, trying to keep cool. Casting my eye in the shimmer of the moon, I saw a black spot on the fvater. Watching it, I dis- covered that it moved—moved toward the ship. I thought it was a canoe coming head on, for I could see some- thing like a paddle raised with a reg- ular motion, but it wasn’t a canoe; it was a man swimming, at each stroke ralsing one arm out of the water, a favorite motion with good swimmers. It was evident that the man was mak- ing for our ship, as there was nothing else about. When he came under the stern he called for me to throw bim a rope. I called some of the.watch to bring a rope, and we got him aboard. He was no sooner on deck than he be- gan his story. The negroes on his plan- tation were golng to rise that night, murder him and his family and take possession of what movable goods ‘they could find. He wanted us to sead a force for their protection. We had but eight men aboard, and 1 didn’t feel at liberty to send ’em, but the fellow begged so piteously for me to save the lives of his family that I consented and sent every man, re maining wyself to ‘watch the ship. A boat was lowered, with the eight men in her at the oars, while the stranger took the tiller. I watched ’em rising - and falling on the swélis in the moon shimmer till they were well away: then, remembering that I was alone in care of a big.ship, I began to walk the deck with a feeling of uncomfortable responsibility. “The men I had sent had faded in the distance when I noticed a Dboat coming from the opposite point, headed straight for the ship. She couldn't hold any one belonging to the vessel, for the captain and ¢rew would come from the mouth of a small river midway be- tween the direction of the boat that had gone and the boat that was com- ing. 1t fAashed across my mind that the swimmer had come to decoy what protection there was aboard the ship, leaving her free to be plundered. If this were so here I was sole defender of a large vessel against a boat load of men bent on piracy. I bad assumed the authority for sending away the watch and determined to die rather than face the captain after the ship had been looted. “By the time the boat camesup I had gathered muskets, cutlasses; grenades—in short, every weapon I could find, including a six pounder can- non, which I loaded ready to fire. As soon as the boat came within hailing distance T asked who they were and what they wanted. They ceased row ing and were inclined to parley, looking hard at the vessel to size up the crew aboard. They talked at random till they were satisfled the ship was with- sut adequate protection, then, though I ordered them away, pulled forward. I pointed my barker and fired. The shot skipped by them, and they paid no attention to it except to cease row- Ing for a few seconds. Seizing a mus- ket, I shot the man at the tiller. This produced some confusion, but as they came on I seized another musket and dropped the stroke oarsman. This laid outtwo of elght men. rowing; others pulled so hard as to swing the boat in a circle. At the same time there was a babel of voices. They were now near enough for me to sce that there was one white man, evidently their leader, the rest belng mulattoes and negroes. I fired at the leader; but missed him, and before 1 could scize another musket he had got his men again to their work and they were pulling forward. Befui they came directly under the vessel's ide I had shot two more men, reducing their number to six. Then I droppedsa stiall hand grenade, which struck the tip of and killed or disabled two more. The leader was still unhurt and. having provided himself ©¥ith ¢ rope laden with hooks at one wd, arew ¢ hooks and caught them on to the e. I tried to throw them off, soon as they caught he got on to the ladder and came up the side, followed by several of his men. T waited till he came within reach and dropped him with a eutlnss. The next mau fired a pistol at me, which grazed my cheek. Seeing that he had missed me and that I was ready for him with a cutlass, men bebind, and they all tumbled into the boat. Then, seizing the oars, they pulled away, followed by balls from | my six pounder, which did not take ef- fect. Soon after midnight the boat I had ~eat gut came back. the men renarting - hana | Some- stopped - he crowded back on to. the | that as soon us tlie swimmer had got #shore be_disappeared in 8 ¢lump of trees, and they saw him no more. 1 said nothing to them about the attack aor to the captain when he returned, You see, I had no business to be fooled into sending the ship’s watch away, and [ dide't want him to know how nearly the ship had eome to being loot- ed. We safled away the pext morning, and [ was the only man aboard who eves knew of the battle. ARNOLD TRACY. | ruguayan Rebels Routed. Montevideo, Uruguay, March 5.—It “1s offictally, -anmounced -that - General Muniz, commander of the Uruguayan forces, has routed the troops of the revolutionary leader, “Sarisave, at Unks- de--Q@gaquayehico, - The.rebels fled, abandoning a number of ‘killed and wounded. Natives Killed by Volcano. Parls, March 5—Mail advices re- ceived at Madagascar from Mayotte, Comoro islands, say that three craters of the great Comoro island have been in a state of continuous eruption since Feb. 25. There have been some vie tims r.mong the natives. A DOMESTIC FARCE [Original.] “But we have been married only five weeks, one week more than the honey- moon.” “It doesn’t matter if we have been married only five minutes. 1 am re- solved not to live another day with a man who will treat me so abominably.” “I treat you”— “It is useless for you to protest. I listened to your deceitful words dur- ing the period of our engagement to find out now, when it is too late, what ou are.” “But what are you going to do—get a divorce?” “No," after reflection; “I shall not give you an opportunity to marry some otber woman whom you will deceive as you have decelved me. I shall go abroad with my mother and leave you bere. You can give out that I have gone for my health. Later it may be known that we have separated for- ever.” . “Forever!” “Yes, and if I find some one suited to my mind perhaps in time I may get a divorce from you and marry agaln.” “Very well, since you are determined to leave me, since you will not listen to reason”— “Reason! Is there reason in suffer: ing a lifelong torture? Not I. I shall nip it in the bud.” She snapped her fingers viciously. “I see argument is useless. I think if we must part your plan is a wise one. It will avoid a social shock. Besides, people will say that you left me, not I you.” “Certainly. Do you think I would have them infer that I permitted my- self to be deserted?” “True. Your head is always level That’s one of the features that won my heart—your level head. I shall remain In this house. I must have some one to manage my household affairs. Let me see. I .wonder if Mrs. Ruston would consent to be my housekeeper?” ““Who is Mrs. Ruston?" “A widow.” “An old woman?* “Not unless you call twenty-five old.” “H’'m! Do you propose to,set people talking from the start?” “Oh, no! Mrs. Ruston i8 not pretty. The world knows from my having married you that I must have beauty.” “I should wish to”— She stopped ghort. “After all, it is nothing to me whether she is beautiful or ugly.” “I have a box of my old photographg in the storeroow, and if 1 mistake not Lily Ruston’s”— “Lily Ruston! First it was Mrs. Rus- ton, now Lily Ruston. I suppose it will soon be ‘dear Lily.”” ‘Without reply. the husband left the room and presently returned with a photograph . which he tossed on his wife’s dressing case. She took it up and looked at it with a flush of anger. “Do you suppose for one moment that I am going to leave you in this house with tliat hold looking thing?? - = “Why not?” “I have some regard for your good name even if you have made it impos- sible for me to live with you, and I don’t. propose to have it sald that I ‘was turned out of the house to make room for such a creature as that.”” “I told you she was homely.” “You didn’t tell me she was loud looking."” There was an ominous silenco that was broken by his wife. “This is what I have come to—mar: ried to a man whose past, if I had only known {t, doubtless foreshadowed that he would at any time turn me out of doors”— “Turn you out of doors! Why, I thought you were going and wouldn’t be induced to remain.” —*“for one of his old associates whom he would bring into it, perfectly care- less of the opinion of respectable peo- ple.” “What interest have you.in my house- keeper?” “I have this interest—people shall not say: ‘Poor woman! To think that she should be sent away to make room for’ '— “Tlen you are not golng?’ “Under the circumstances I am not.” “And Lily’s services will not be re- o2 Most assuredly they will not.” “Well?” “Well, T shall bave Cynthia, the old black woman who occasionally does a day’s work for me. She is a good cook and will satisfy that most important part of you, your stomach.” “And who will satisfy those diminu- tive parts, my head ‘and heart?” “You married a wife for that, but treated her so shamefully that she was obliged to-leave you.” She said this less angriiy. “It seems to me this is a matter for compromise. I want Lily Ruston for my housekeeper. You want me to have Cynthia. Now, what do you say to"— L tQy, L da y. 303 bave a large stock of old flames, any of whom would be brazen enough”— “Hear me out. One of these flames L don’t think you will have any objec- tion to. And I admit with her I could pass the time delightfully. Stay; here 1= Yer photograph.” He took out his hunting watch, open- ed it and showed-his wife her own ple- ture in the case. She looked up at him, smiling through tears. He put his arm around her and kissed her. “Who is that—thing?” she asked. “What thing?” She pointed to the photograph on his dressing case. ‘fOh, that? I don't know. I saw it when I was a bachelor in a shop win- dow, bought it and put it in my book of beauty, She was an actress, I be- Ueve, but I never saw the original.” F. A. MITCHEL. AWOULD BE CELIBATE [Original.] Paul Broomhead was a high church BEpiscopalian clergyman, with Roman Oatholie. tendencies, so high, in fact, that he announced that he would néver marry. This was very disappointing to his father, who had heaped up mil- Hons and whose hobby was to estab- lish a family. He resolved that his only son should marry or be disinherit- ed, But being a politic man he enlist- e2 the services of Mrs. Cushing,. a phrewd .woman of the world. Mrs, Cushing phposed .to entice the son with her niece, Misg Sherwood. “She’s but a child,” said Mr. Broom- head senior. “Seventeen. Your son is getting to “She’s a simpleton.” “Men are not attracted by attributes similar to those they themselves pos- Bess.” “I admit she is pretty.- She lpoks at ome out of her soft eyes with all the in- nocence of a babe.” “All except.the innocence.” “Very well. I leaye the whole matter - to you. What next?”’ “Tell your son that you wish him to marry Miss Sherwood. If Miss Sher- wood declines the alllance, you will. not lnslst on his marriage. If she consénts, then he must complete his part or lose his inheritance.” Paul Broomhead, when. informed of what was expected of him, was per- plexed. He was resolved -on celibacy, had told everybody that b would nev- er marry, but he wanted his father’s fortune to carty out some gigantic de- signs.be had in view for the. church. He resolved to win Miss Sherwood to an interest in his work; thus she, by refusing to marry.him, could save to him his father's milllons. He asked permission..to call on the young lady, and an evening was appointed. Miss Bherwood lived with -her aunt, and that lady superintended. the costume her niece wore on the. occaslon. No- ticing that a_tiny. pimple marred the pink and white skin just beneath the girl's lips, she covered it With a bit of court plaster. 7 ‘When the rector called, he found Miss Sherwood sitting; demurely in the corner of a sofa in the drawing room. As he advanced she rose and stood with her eyes bent on the floor, a pic- ture of maidenly modesty. Then the two sat down on the sofa side by side. Mr. Broomhead was accustomed..to putting delicate. cases, and he acquit- ted himself well in this instance. He began by mentioning his father’siwish with regard to-their marriage. Mar- riage was a highly honorable. institu- tion—indeed, a part of the church ft- gelf. The young lady was attractive. He must admit that she was beautiful. He-thought he could love her devoted: ly. Indeed, the possession of the delk cate flower, would in a way make his ‘life a paradise. He could conceiye of no greater blessing of Proyidence than to secure such a wife. Miss Sherwood listened, to this pre- lude with downcast eyes, absently smoothing out the folds of her dress, till he came to the last sentence, the last word, ‘“wife.” Then she looked up at him out of a pair of eyes that ex- pressed the most ineffable tenderness. The clergyman proceeded, but the re- mainder of his discourse.did not run qulte so smoothly as his “firstly.” He pictured a higher life—higher even than holy matrimony—a life devoted to the cause of their Master. Think of the great good. to be achieved with his father’s fortune in leading countless millions to the church, the splendid edifices that might be built, the homes for the church.orders, both men and women. Think of that nobler friend- ship that would exist between the two, he working day and night in the chan- cel, in the mission house, in the slums; she.devoted ‘to the same, cause as a member of a sisterhood, “I ask you, beloved,” he concluded, *would you pot prefer this ngbler life preparatory to the higher existence to”— He stupped. short. - Miss Sherwood bad burst into a flood of tears and was weeping on.his shoulder. “Dear little girl, calm yourself. Per- baps I have asked too much of you. We wiil think it over. There, try and cease this convulsive sobbing.” His arm was around her waist, his band was smoothing the beautifut whirlpools of hair that had been set whirling under Mrs. Cushing’s especal guldance. Then there was silence. During the evening several people, members of young Broomhead’s flock, called on Mrs. Cushing. Evidence is not forthcoming whether they came by Invitation or merely happened in. About 11 o’clock these people were sit- ting in a Toom directly opposite the drawing room when Mr. Broomhead emerged, looking very much flustered, followed by Miss Sherwood, as com- posed and innocent looking as a blue violet. All were surprised to see their rector in the house, inasmuch as.his presence there had not been mentioned. Mr. Broomhead advanced with embar- rassment to meet them, and there was a bit of small talk. Then one of the ladies began to titter. .- She whispered something to ome of the others, who began to titter also. At last the whole party were laughing, and laughing at the clergyman. “Mr, .Broomhead,” remarked Mrs. Cushing seriously, -“I was not aware that men wore beauty spots.” . The réctor put his hand to his chin, pulledgoft a piece of court plaster, look- ed at it on the tip. of his finger and {turned scarlet. Miss Sherwood show- Peared to be very proud of herself. There was but one course left open for the clergyman. ‘woodt F. A. MITCHEL. an age when he prefers youth,” f ed not the least disiress=indeedshe wp- ~ e i “My friends,”.he said, “I have to an- é nounce my ‘engagement to Miss Shen #