Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, October 12, 1901, Page 6

ee Cawe UMAPTER XVIII. (Continued.) You remember, he called me to at- efttend on you for the journey, and as I ‘came toward him the jeweled handle Mashed in the light, and I noticed it par- ticalariy.”” With a wild cry of joy Clarice started ed to her feet. “f kmew he was innocent!" she said. “Or, my darling—my darling! Never for one moment did I doubt you! But ell me, girli—-why did you not say so @t the ingnest? Was it for fear of in- Juring me? I was never in any danger of serfows suspicion. But you will tell «ait now. Come, come with me!" Leonce turned as if she would have Ged from the room. “No, no!” she screamed; “I can nev- ea speak of it except to you, madam!” “But you must, girl—you must!” “ft was not fear of me,” Clarice said. “¥ understand new—you know the mur- -derer—you bave known him from tho @rst. He is that man—that fiend—the @athec of your child, and that is why you shielied him. It was leaving my husband—dead in his room—that you met the monster, Castellani, red-hand- ed from: his crime, and bearing the drip- mag weapon still in his grasp—but you @half bear witness to it!" Leonee uttered a smothered, savage ery, aud tore herself from the grasp of her miztress. At a single step She had teached the door, snatched the key from it, and on the instant was on the @utside, the door closed and the key warned in the lock. Clarice was a prisone in hor own coom! CHAPTER XIX. ‘Im the Magic Mirror. Wren her daughter fainted at the mention of the name, Shirley Austin, Birs. Martin carried Bertha to the bed, @ed tenderly laid the slight form on that resting place. “What can it mean?” she asked her- -eelf. “What is it, Bertha?” Mrs. Martin asked, with affectionate solicitude. She was kneeling at the bedside, and she tenderly caught her daughter's hands end kissed them as she drew them from ‘ker blushing face. “Tell your mother what it is that distresses you, darling.” “Promise not to be angry, mamma,” Bgetns Pieaded, taking her mother's beteen both her own and softly pressing her cheek against it. “I have dene nothing really wrong, but T can ‘ever find courage to confess all my foolishness unless you promise me not €o be angry.” “E promise," Mrs. Martin answered, gloomily- “The reason I was so overcome, mam- ma, when you mentioned his—name is éhat—I love him!" “You love Shirley Austin!” Mrs. Mar- ‘tin echoed, but there was little surprise ‘in her tone, fer she had felt what was ‘coming, and only wondered that she could so long have been blind; for now that she reflected, she saw plainly that ¢@ any watchful eye Bertha's secretewas am open secret from the first. “You “fove Shirley Austin, Bertha? But how can fit be possible, child? You never saw him until the unlucky evening when we took him in here to nurse him back to health. Would he had died on the doorstep first!’ she added, bitterly. “Don't say that, mamma! Oh, you don't know how dearly I love him! You think i¢ a hopeless love because he was once engaged to Clarice; and she is so ‘beautiful! But I can't-I dare not think it hopeless. I would die if I €hought so. No, don’t interrupt me, mvether. Listen! It is fate itself that “mate me love him, and fate will give ‘him to me. I must ‘believe that, or I cannot live. “But let me tell you my poor, silly lit- tle story—-only don't laugh at me, for that would break my heart! One day Cast spring when Letty and I were out walking, we found ourselves, quite by chance as it seemed (but it was our fate, as E have always felt ever since)’ fn front ef a celebrated fortune-teller’s -—-Madam Durand's. We stopped and wead the sign, and just for fun, we Chought we would ge in and have our fortunes told. “Something seemed to pull me back. and, turning about I said: ‘Come, Let- ty, EX will have my fortune told. It’s ‘waiting yender for me, and I'm going back to know just what it is. Come!’ £ hurried back toward the house of the fortune-teller as if my life depended on “it, and Letty had to almost run to keep space with me. “Ss Letty and I walked into the ‘room, a heavy silken curtain at the far- thest end was slowly drawn apart, and ‘beyond it, seated in a magnificent chair om a raised platform, sat the magician, fike a queen on her throne. “*&nd what do you wish to know, my pretty child?” she said, addressing her- self to me; ‘but why need [I ask? All «@iris wish to know whom they will mar- ty, and when, and where. But these -questions I cannot always answer. Sometimes there are clouds upon the ‘Berizon which even my prophetic vision fails to pierce. I can only show you «what the mirror chooses to reveal. One thing it always reveals, however—that ts, the face of the man you love. If he fs already your lover, it will be easy for you te recognize him; but if he is yet unknown, be sure you will never forget Gis face, and you will know it again for €hat of the man who holds your future destiny, wherever or whenever you may eee it. T can only show the face to one «af you, young ladies. My fee for look- @ng in the magic mirror is $590. The lit- Ge trifle contributed by both of you seareely aravunts to one-fifti'th part of hat sum; but at first sight of your fresh young faces I made up my mind ‘hat you should not be wholly disap- pointed. Come, now-—whose _ sweet- ‘heart is to be shown? Yours?’—and sahe nodded her head at me—‘or yours?’ and she turned toward Letty. “She pushed a small, square seat, v@hich moved on rslers toward me, AA Fatah. ee Iiharriage. ELIZABETH CAMPBELL. Card and then, having bade me sit down, she drew the cord of another silken curtain that hung against the wall of the room just in front of me, and when it was drawn aside I saw a large, oval mirror, not of glass, but apparently of polished steel. “ ‘Keep your gaze fixed upon the mir- ror, mademoiselle,’ she said to me. *You may do as you please, mademoi- selle,’ addressing Letty, ‘for the mirror will show you nothing, whether you look or no.” “And then. putting her hand to her breast, she drew from the folds of her dress a pastille, which she lighted, hold- ing it in her hand all the time until it had quite burned. away. “But Letty gave her head a saucy toss and answered. “ ‘Never mind me, ma’am; I know my fortune in the way of a lover.’ “I started and looked at Letty in sur- prise, but Madam Durand only smiled gravel and said: i} “‘T wish you joy of him, child. I hope he is worthy of a good young girl's love.” “Her manner was so kind and gentle, almost affectionate, and she seemed to take a real interest in us, though I’m sure she could never have seen either of us before in all her life. ““It is for you to look into the mirror, then,’ she continued, turning to me. And at the same time she rose and came toward us, her stately walk and tall figure making her seem more im- posing than ever. “It filled the air with a thin, vaporous smoke of a pungently aromatic odor, but the extraordinary thing about it was that the smoke gradually collected like a cloud, over the mirror, and as IT kept my gaze fixed on it—and I was now trembling with excitement—I saw a face some slowly into view on the pol- ished mirror, while the smoke from which it seemed to be evolved rolled away, leaving the air quite clear, but heavily perfumed with the aromatic odor it had created. “I saw the face, mamma, as plainly as I ever saw my own face reflected in the looking glass, and the moment I ke- held Shirley Austin I saw that face again. “And I love him—oh, mamma, don’t laugh at me, don’t despise me, for I do love him so dearly! I loved him from the moment when his face came out, | slowly but clearly, on the mirror. And when I again saw his face, I knew him for the man who held my destiny for good or evil, and I shall love him while I live, whether he loves me or hates me. Nothing can change me—it is fate—the magician said so-—and it is true.” Mrs. Martin uttered a groan of de- spair. Far from laughing at Bertha or scoffing, her heart sank with dismay when she realized the passionate fervor of her daughter's words. As she had a thousand times told her- self, such a love had wrecked her own life; and yet, what was the most cher- ished recollection, among all the bitter disappointments of existence, that still bloomed and glowed in her worldly na- ture? Kate Martin would have despised her- self, but she could not have denied to her own heart that the brightest and | happiest memory of all her days was the time when her lover had courted her, and declared that nothing else on earth was half so fair and sweet to him as her blushing face and the sound of her happy, rippling laughter. He had been a model husband—he had often wrung her heart in many ways— but he had never looked with love on any face but hers; he had never kissea any lips but he and his memory and the days of her young love were dear and precious to her yet. All this passed like a flash through her mind; but she felt that she must rouse herself and try to combat the fa- tal love which had taken possession of Bertha. At that moment the front door was opened, and the heavy sound of its closing was distinctly heard where they sat. Mrs. Martin started to her feet. She feit, instinctively, who it was that had entered. “It is he, mamma-—it is Shirley! I know his step!” whispered Bertha. She slid noiselessly from her bed, and followed her mother, who had moved toward the door. “Mamma, mamma,” she whispered, in a low, intense voice, ‘‘you will help me? He must love me—oh, he must, or I shall die! Help me to win him. I love him, if you will only help me!” “Oh, hush, Bertha, my darling!” cried the wretched mother; and, clasping her daughter in her arms, she kissed the girl passionately. ‘Now, be patient, dear, I must see his face as he goes by. Hark. he js almost at the door!” CHAPTER XX. Mrs, Martin Visits Her Sister-in-Law Bertha Martin's ear had not deceived her when she told her mother that she recognized Shirley Austin’s step as he ascended the stairs. Mrs. Martin softly opened the door anli*placed herself so that she could observe hiin as he went by without her- self being seen. Shirley came on and passed the door, with head bent forward and downcast eyes, the picture of sad and bitter dis- appointment. “Certainly not the fact of a triumph- ant lover,” thought Mrs. Martin, as she closed the door and turned towards Bertha. Already a revulsion had taken place in her feelings regarding Shirley and Clarice. She loved Bertha more than anything in the world, and against rea- son and common sense, she found her- self wondering if it was quite impossi- ple that Shirley Austin might be brought to transfer his affections from his, faithless sweetheart to her own young and lovely daughter. But she was careful as yet to let no hint of such a thought be guessed by Bertha. First, it was her duty in ev- | ting, her wicked scheming and hypcc- | ned and worked—seems likely to die be- ery way to dicourage the girl’s unfor- tunate attachment. She turned to her daughter. and although her manner was as gentle and affectionate as ever, Bertha had never heard her mother speak in such a s2- vere tone. “I fear you have been foolish, Bertha, and much to blame. Don’t look so dis- tressed, child. I know you meant no harm, but your credulous folly in going to a fortune-teller and allowing your- self to be influenced by her flimsy | tricks pains me as much as It surprises “Mamma, dear, it was no trick. I | saw the face so plainly I would have recognized it a hundred years later, while Letty saw nothing at all. I could not have imagined Shirley's face; for I had nevef seen him in my life; and it is very unlikely that Madam Durand could have had a picture of him, or could have had any object in showing me his picture rather than any other.” “Unlikely, child, but not impossible.” Mrs. Martin returned, with an impa- tient sigh. “But even she didn’t say that the owner of the face would love you.” “No, unhappily; she intimated the reverse, rather, for she said my love might cause me great misery. And, oh, mamma, it has done that already! but perhaps I can win his love yet, for, beautiful though Clarice is, she never could have loved him as ¢ do, or else no threats, no persuasions, could have made her marry Uncle Philip. He will love me—he must! I.love him so much | that I must win his Icve in return!” Mrs. Martin repressed the discourag- [ disappointment? But she is unlike oth- er girls. How different from practical, unromantic Letty! about her. What can have happened between Austin and Clarice? Did he see her? I must go there and find out from Susan as much as she knows, It is too late to-day, but early to-morrow I will go. It will perhaps help me to the best course to pursue.” In order to have a better opportunity of observing Shirley, Mrs. Martin in- vited him to dine with the family that evening; and, much as he would have preferred to be alone, he felt con- strained to accept the invitation. After her exceptional, indeed, extra- ordinary, kindness, toward him, it would have been the most churlish in- gratitude to refuse. He even exerted himself to be entertaining to his host- ess and her two pretty daughters; and Mrs. Martin felt obliged to adnvit to herself that Bertha or any other young girl might easily lose her heart to such a man. Besides being in appearance and man- ner calculated to fill the very ideal of a girl's fancy, he was both interesting and bright; his voice was deep and musical; his manner toward women had the gen- tle deference which seemed to imply that the particular wcman to whom he spoke was the only one in the world, so far as he was concerned; and, added to all, he had the interesting pallor of ill- ness, and the girl whom he now ad- dressed and on whom his saze dwelt most frequently had devoted herself to the care of him during that illness. Mrs. Martin caught herself wishing that she had such a sen, and when she ing words that rose to her lips, but she | thought of Adele Lingard, who must} have been even more beautiful than | Clarice, and whose frantic love had | faiied to make the true lover false, even | in thevght. j “There is some witchcraft about Ciar- | ice,” she said, bitterly. “No man who | loves her ean ever recover from it.” “Then I can die!” said Bertha, calm ly, but in a voice of concentrated de- spair. | Her face became deadly pale, her | hands clenched, and she fell back in her | chair, as if already in the embrace of death. | Mrs. Martin gave a cry of terror. Her heart contracted with pain, and in her | perplexity, she asked herself, for the first time,, if God was about to punish her for all her double-dealing, her plot- risy. * “Surely, my sin has found me out she thought. “Is this to be the ending of all my plans to gain possession of Philip’s wealth? In my heart I have almost committed murder to gain it. I) have resorted to every species of de-/ ceit and meanness to work out my ends, and now the child of my heart—j} the one being in the world for whbvse sake, for than any other, I have plan- i | | | : fore my eyes, the victim of my evil plotting.” Some such thoughts, less coherent, but causing a deep impression, passed through Mrs. Martin’s mind, and for the moment her bold, scheming soul quailed before Bertha’s pale, accusing face. “Cheer up, my darling; you shall not | die” she said, wildly. “Not if anything | your wretched mother can do to aid you may be of service. I saw Shirley Aus- tin just now; his face showed that he had not seen Clarice. Perhaps she. re- fused to see him. Your uncle's will for- bade her to marry again, and if she cared enough for money to marry for it, | she is not likely to throw away a mag- | nificent fortune for the sake of a de- | serted lover. Don't give way like this, | Bertha. You are young—you are love- | jly.. You may prove a formidable rival, | even for Clarice.” This, and much more of the same} kind, Mrs. Martin said, and, in her anx- | iety, almost believed it, too; and when she saw the color steal back into Ber- tha’s cheek, and the brightness to her daughter's eyes, she felt*justified tn all she had said. “And now, darling,” she concludea. “what were you saying about Letty? Has she, too, stole a march upon her unsuspecting mother, and fallen in love with somebody? But, no! At her age it is impossible. She is a mere child.” “A child in years, mamma, but a wo- man in heart, for she loves with all the fervor of a strong and passionate na- ture. But Letty is more fortunate than I; the man she loves adores her, and has already implored her to marry | him.” “Letty!” ejaculated Mrs. Martin. “Yes, mamma; but there is no cause to worry about Letty. She will tell you everything herself, and her lover will come to ask your leave to pay his ad- dresses as soon as he returns to the city. There is some family trouble at present which requires his attention, and he was called suddenly away in consequence of it.” “When did she meet him? Where? Who is he?” Mrs. Martin gasped out, between spasms of amazement, which every. word spoken by Bertha only servec to augment. “Have my children entered into a league to distress and disappoint me?” “Don’t speak so, mamma; you will break my heart!” cried Bertha. ‘“Scold me—be very angry; I will try to bear it; but don’t think I would willingly do anything to grieve you.” “T can’t scold you, child, nor can I be angry. T love you too well for that: but have no more secrets from me, if you value my affections. Go to your room. Calm yourself. Be happy, and make yourself as pretty as you can, while I try to think out the best way of making your beauty effective.” Bertha colored brizhtly, and. throw- ing her arms around her mother’s neck, kissed her many times. She then ran way to her own room, as she had been told to do. Left to herself, Mrs. Martin dropped into the nearest chair and gave herself up to dark and discomforting thoughts She began to realize that the way of the transgressor is hard. ‘To win the uncontrolled possession of her brother’s money che had imperilled her soul; and when at length the re- was alone with Bertha that night, sha kissed the girl in a manner that seemea like a congratulation to Bertha. “The young man is charming, dear,” she said. ‘‘You are quite right about that; and, whatever the state of his heart may be, it does not prevent him from admiring you.” Bertha blushed like a rose, and fling- ing her arms about her mother, hugged her in a genuine schoolgirl embrace. For the moment, Mrs, Martin hoped that Austin might never again see Clarice. As for the rest of the family, they were all delighted with Shirley. The boys treated him like an elder brother; Robert Grayson thought him the most genuine and_ intellectual young man he had ever met, and Letty, who had long ago guessed her sifster’s secret, whispered that she could fall in love ,with Mr. Austin herself, if her heart. had not been otherwise disposed of. Bertha went to bed a happy girl, and dreamed all night of Shirley. Early on the following day Mrs. Mar- tin went’to call on Clarice. The door was orened by Susan, instead of the special servant who generally attended on it, and there seemed an air of sup pressed excitement in the house, al- though everything was very quiet, and all the inmates appeared to be attend- ing to their business with close atten- tion. “Has anything happened?” Mrs. Mar- tin asked, giving her card, with its half- inch mourning border, to Susan. “I would like to see Mrs. Grayson, if pos- sible.” “Which I suppose you can, ma'am; an’, anyhow, I'll go an’ ask, to be sure,” returned the girl, with a mysterious toss of the head. “I suppose she'll be let to see you, ma’am, though it’s mighty queer doings altogether that's | goin’ on here, late an’ early, now.” i She preceded Mrs. Martin to the re- ception room for callers, and was about to turn away, when that lady detained her. “I am in no hurry, Susan. what you mean.” Susan briefly related how Mr. Mow- bray had taken a letter from her, and the subsequent scene when she had brought ug Mr. Austin’s card. “An’ I must say, ma’am, it went to my heart to give such a message to the young gentleman, though some do say as ’twas him that killed Mr. Grayson, beggin’ pardon, ma’am, for naming it. But, anyway, the missus don’t think so, or don’t care. ’Twasn’t her message, though I as bid to say so, but that overbearin’ father 0’ hers, that’s just the master of every one here. An’ as to the letter, I’m sure ’twas your hand- writin’, ma’am; an’ whatever he did with it, Mrs. Grayson never saw the in- side of it, or, if she did, her papa saw it first, I'll go bail for that, ma’am.” “No matter, Susan,”’ Mrs. Martin an- swered, with a strange throb at her heart; she could scarcely tell whether she felt pelased or disappointed that her letter to Clarice had miscarried. “I can write to Mrs. Grayson again, if necessary, and I’ll give the letter to you to place in her own hands. You know Mr. Austin was formerly the sweet- heart of Mrs..Grayson; but, as she loses everything under my brother’s will if she marries again, of course Mr. Mow- bray has his own object in keeping them apart.” “To be sure, ma'am; we can all see through that plain enough. But the surprisin’ part of the business to me is how the missus couldn’t get a message to the young gentleman by her waitin’ maid, Mam’selle Leonce, for she did seem devoted to her. But there—that’s the most queer of all! “About an hour or so after I'd sent Mr. Austin away yesterday, we were all startled by the violent ringing of Mrs. Grayson’s: bell. Now, ‘twas the busi- ness of the French maid to answer that bell, of course. So, after we'd all given a start an’ looked up at the bell, we went on talkin’ an’ eatin’ our lunch, as we all happened to be doin’ at that time. “About a minute passed, when cling- a-clang went the bell ag’in, ringin’ like mad, an’ no sign of anyone answerin’ it. ‘We all looked at each other, an’ I start- ed up, for I was the one that sometimes answered missus’ bell, if the French maid was cut—as she has been now an’ then. Before anyone could speak, cling- a-clang went the bell ag’in, an’ I moved off pretty quick to-answer it, for it seemed as though something unusual was the matter. An’ so it was, an’ no mistake. For, what do You think~but ye’d never think, ma’am!-—-Mrs. Gray- son was locked ‘nto her own room, an’ the key on the outside of the door. Tell me ward of her scheming seemed ready to be grasped, she found herself obliged to dash it aside with her own hand, or else see her favorite daughter pine away, the victim of a hopeless, misplaced at- tachment. “But even if I bend my whole ener- gies to the parting of Austin and Clar- ice. instead of bringing them together, will it do any good for Bertha? He will never cease to love Clarice, and my poor child will be powerless to win his regard. But perhaps I am exaggerat- ing the danger to Bertha. How many hundred thousand girls survive a love , “Well, *twas no wonder she was an- ‘gry; but when I got the door unlockea, and’ the rcom open--well, her face frightened me. She was a white as if she had been in her windin’ sheet, an’ she caught me by the shoulder with a grip. I give ye my, word, ma'am, the marks of her fingers are on my shoul- der yet—an’ she just whispered like, in such a deep tone, ‘Where’s my maid, Leonce? Of course I told her I didn’t know; an’ then I remembered that one of the girls had said the Frenchwoman had been packin’ up that day, an’ she sack~—small Icss!—for none of us could a-bear the creature, with her fine airs I feel no anxiety | an’ her pretense of bein’ above the best of us. So I told the misgus perhaps she was gone. “Show me to her room,’ she safd, in the same low voice—me a wonderin’ all the time how she could keep down her rege, for ‘twas é¢asy to see she was boilin’ over. “Well, I led the way to mam’selle’s room, an’, sure enough, ft was empty, her trunk gone, the closet door standin’ open, an’ nothin’ in it~not a sign of her anywhere, but a car’ stuck in the look. in’ glass. I think the missus saw it first, but I pushed forward to get it, an’ as I handed it to her I read the words, ‘Forgive me,” scrawled on it. “Mrs. Grayson kind o° flushed up as she read the words, too, and crushed the card in my hend. ‘Come to my room,’ she said, an’ swept out of the room—to be sure, she has a queenly way with her—an’ I followed pretty close after her. “When she reached her own room ag’in, she wrote a message, an’ ordered it should be sent by telegraph instant- ly. With that she closed the door sharply after him, not givin’ me time to do so, an’ I hard the key turn in the lock. “T waited*a minute, for fear she might call me back, or somethin’, but she didn’t, an’ I heard her pacin’ the room to an’ fro, to an’ fro, drawin’ long, deep breaths, as long as I stood there. “Well, of course, the telegraph was sent, an’ it was to Detective Hantlin, his name is, that has charge of the ‘murder case,’ as they eall it, to find out who killed poor, dear Mr. Grayson—an’ long enough he is abcut it, too. From that, of course, we all guessed the smart Frenchwoman had been just a bit .too smurt—of course sne’d robbed the missus and locked her into her room after be! found out, till she could clear out of the house. But not one word has the missus said, an’ it’s all guess-work with us, so far. But the detective wasn’t at home yesterday, an’ hasn’t been here yet, though he’s been expected every minute of the day.” Mrs Martin had been a gond listener. She had not interrupted Susan by so much as a gesture from the moment when the name of Leonce was intro duced until the girl paused at last, breathless from her own eloquence, (TO be Continued.) One Umbrella Was Plenty. “It is beautiful weather,” suid she “Jet’s go for a walk.” “Yes,” said he, “it’s a lovely night. We'll go for a prow:. We'd better take umbrella’s, because it’s raining like everything.” “Yes, that’s right,” said she. take umbrellas—two of them.” They went out in the rain and slush that night. and tramped many blocks. It was beautiful weather—to them. Firally they came back home. “You had better put the umbrellas in the stand to drip,” said she. He put her umbrella in the stand and leaned his own up against the wall in a corner. “Won't your umbrella drip on the carpet?” she asked. “No,” said he, my umbrella is dry. I didn’t put it up, you remember?"’ Didn’t you get wet?” her sister asked him. “Oh, no!” he replied, with positive- ness. And he wondered why her sis- ter laughed so significantly—New York Commercial Advertiser, We'll Laying the Table. In setting the table for a meal, whether it be plain or elaborate, lay the knives, forks and spoons in the or- der required by the courses. Set the first ten-inch plate, called the service plate, one fork at the left hand. For a dinner which is to include, say, oysters, consomme, meat, salad and dessert, lay an oyster fork farthest from the plate, then a soup spoon, knife, fork and cof- fee sfoon. If the dessert is a sherbet or a jelly, lay each one on the plate on which the last course is served.—Good Housekeeping. Wisdom. As the heathen smote us we did not forget that we were Christians. That is.to say, we turned the other cheek. “Aber nit!” said the heathen. “One cheek is all that we can afford to pay indemnity for swatting!” Now, this was an exhibition of world- ly wisdom that we found quite as dis- concerting as it was unexpected. Indced, it necessitated entirely new plans on our part.—-Detroit Journal. An Explanation. © Visitor from the city (running toward the Lonelyville railroad station, breath- lessly)—I—Isn’t it bad for your diges- tion to run for trains this way every morrirg? One ougnt not to exercise so violently, you know, right after break- fast. Isolate (of Lonelyville, chewing break- fast roll earnestly)—But J am never en- tirely through breakfast until I reach the train. Then, of course, one rests on the way to the city.—Boston Herald. But Not in This Town. dog off the street, or Th ordered the. conscientious vy?” asked the man with the He has a license cn.” dog. “That's all right, as far as it goes, but that’s a spitz dog, and we have strict orders to enforce the anti-expect- oration ordinance.”--Baltimore Amerls can. Womanlike. One evening Adam vas making love to Eve, but she seemed dissatisfied. “What is the trouble, my darling?” he asked. “Oh, Addie, dear,” she sighed, “if I could but only conviace myself that I am the only woman you ever loved."’—- Detroit Free Press. No Immediateness, He—Do you believe in love in a cot- tage? She—No, indeed, I don’t. He—How about love in a palace’ She—Oh, George, this is so sudden! He—Well, it won’t be—if we've got to wait until I earn the palace.—Smart Set. A Deplorable Condition. “Poor Bagisey, he usec to be such & thoroughly truthful man!” “What's the matter now?” “Why, his wife has gone to the coun- try, and compels him to make a daily report of what he does during the night ‘geussed the missus had given her the before.”—Denver News. { i 5 aera H ‘Capital | ©@Qpossip Bits of News Gathered at St. Paul a can en a ast oe ns nen The young men in the dormitory at the state agricultural school are sleep- ing three in a room. A new dormitory is considered the most pressing need of the school, and when the legislature meets it is expected that an appropria- tion will be asked large enough to pro- vide for a dormitory and a@ library building. The school would lige money enough also to erect an executive building. The amount that will be asked for has not yet been decided, for the details of the new buildings have not yet been determined. The rapid growth of the school, Principal F. D. Tucker says, makes these additions ab- solutely necessary. The school opened last week, and already the enrollment is 350, 50 more than last year, and Mr. Tucker is confident that the number will reach 400. Twenty-five per cent of the students are young women. Last year the school received about $80,000 from the legislature. The new veterinary hospital, to cost $25,000, will soon be ready. A meathouse is being built at a cost of about $8,000, and ex- tensive additions are being made ta the girls’ dormitory and the blacksmith shop. There has been one addition to the faculty this year. W. A. Wheeler, a graduate of the University of Minneso- ta, has the chair of botany. Mr. Wheeler is also temporarily hearing the classes in entomology which were formerly in charge of the late Dr. Lugger. A course of lectures has been ar- ranged for the winter, including Elbert Hubbard, the editorr of the Philistin of East Aurora, N. Y. He will speak on “William Morris; or the Gospel of Work.” tat Thorough the efforts of Dairy Com- missioner McConnell and his assistant, Inspector Vroman, P. Monaghan of Elma, Iowa, a traveling grocer, was fined $50 on each of two charges of selling at Kasson, Minn., baking pow- der not bearing the legal label. Mon- aghan, the commissioner says, hag been in the habit of sending five sales- men in advance to the small towns, From each town the salesmen, hiring teams, would go out into the surround- ing country and get orders for grocer- ies. Delivery of the goods would be made from a freight car at the town where the salesmen separated. Among the goods sold by Monaghan at Sasson was the baking powder. County At- torney J. J. McCaughey conducted the trials before Justice August Anderson. Moneghan did not take his goods from Kasson by rail. He loaded them into wagons. He is supposed to be re- turning to Iowa. eee State Auditor Dunn and Land Clerk George A. Flynn have begun the sale of 100,000 acres of state lands in the wheat counties of the Red river valley district. Sales will be held this week at Wadena, Detroit, Moorhead, Fergus Falls and Roseau. The sales will un- doubtedly pe the most satisfactory ever held by the state. Even yesterday more than a score of inquiries regard- ing the sale were received, mostly from Iowa. The local land agents at the places where the sales will be held, re- port that the towns are filled with homeseekers awaiting the sale. The majority are farmers from thickly set- tled communities who have sold their farms for from $50 to $100 an acre, and will now purchase larger farms at @ figure that will leave a surplus to equip them and render the owners comforta- bly well-to-do from the start. The state timber board has approved estimates made by the state cruisers of timber on state lands believed to ba liable to waste or in danger of fire. The estimates include about 40,000,000 feet of timber, mostly in St. Louis, Itasca, Beltrami, Cass and Lake coun- ties, which will be offered for sale at the state capitol Nov. 5. The appraised value of the timber is about $4.75 per thousand. At least a 25 per cent cash payment must accompany any pur- chase. The state auditor can require a still larger per cent if he deems it necessary. The balance is paid after the timber has been scaled by the sur- veyor general of the district. ttt The state normal board has practt- cally agreed to an honorable surrender to ‘the state board of control. The nor- mal board is to be recognized, however, and the resident directors are still to serve as purchasing agents, but with- out compensation. All back vouchers of the normal schools are to be sub- mitted to the board of control, and in the future all accounts are to be sub- mitted promptly. This proposition was made at a conference of the state nor- mal board ‘and President Leavitt and Mr. Gould of the board of control. Tha proposition was taken under advise- ment. The board of control has received from the Fergus Falls, hospital for the insane a statemeft of the changes in salaries that insfitution according to the board’s recent schedule. Excluding , the salaries of hospital officers, the re- vised payroll shows a total net change of only $30. There are 212 employes. Perhaps the most important change was the addition of $2 monthly in the pay of each trained nurse and the de duction of $2 from the pay of each un- trained nurse. ses Gov. Van Sant has received a som- munication from Olivia Sanford of | Pittsburg, calling attention to the movement begun in the East for re- forestation in honor of President Mc-~ Kinley, whose love for trees was well known. In addition to suggesting planting trees on Arbor day in memory of the late president, the movement comprises reforestation on a large seale by state appropriations. Gov. Van Sant approves of the movement and will suggest similar legislation in Minnesota. Se é ‘