Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, September 20, 1902, Page 2

= i j | CHAPTER XLIV. (Continued.) . “Who seems to be at the bottom of the whole trouble,” said David. “But de you think that was the real ring on the poor jirl's finger?” “I don’t know. I fancy Henson had a wopy made for cmergencies. It was he wks sent =he -opy to Claire, and it was She wopy that Littimer saw on her hand. Xou see, directly Frank broke «pen that safe, Henson, who was at the eastie at the time, saw his opportunity he could easily scheme some way 2f making use of it. If that plot against Claire had failed he would have invent- @4 another. And the unexpected sui- ide of Claire Carfax played into his fends. Henson has that ring some- where, and it wit be our task to find +” “And when we have cone so? “Give it ro Lord Littimer, and tell him where we found it. And then we shall fee rid of one of the most pestilential rascals the world has ever seen. When you go back to Brighton I want you to tell this story to Hatherly Bell.” “{ will,’ David replied. “What a weird, fz ating story it is! And the sooner I am back the better I shall be pleased. I wonder if our mar is awake yet. If you vill excuse me, I will go wp and see. Ah!” There was the sound of somebody moving overhead. CHAPTER XLV. On the Trail. At the same moment Williams came goftly in. There was a grin of satisfac- tion on his face. . “The brute is fast asleep,” he said. “ve just been in his room, He left the lamp burning, and there is a lump en one side of his head as big as an OS- trich egg. But he didn't mean to go to sieep; he hasn’t taken off any of his clothes. On the whole, sir, wouldn’t it Re better to wake our man up and get fam away?” David was of the same opinion. neck was lying on the bed, looking va- cantly about him. He seemed older @nd more worn, perhaps, because his beard and moustache were growing ragged and dirty on his face. He pressed his hand to his head in a con- fused kini of way. “E tell you I can’t find it,” he said; “the thing slipped out of my hand—a small thing like that easily might. What's the good making a fuss about a ging not worth £20? Search my pock- ets, if you like. What a murderous looking iog you are when you're out of All this in a vague, rambling way, in @ slightly-foreign accent. Steel touched him on the shoulder, “Won't you come back with me to Brighton?” he said. “Certainly,” was the ready response; ou fook a good sort of chap. I'll go Van ywhere you please. Not that I’ve got a penny of money left. What a spree it has been. Who are you?” “My name is Steel. I am David Stel, the novel A peculiarly-cunning look came over Wan Sneck’s face. “E got your letter,” he said. “And I came. It was after I had had that row with Henson. Henson is a_ bigger @coundrel than I am, though you may mot think it.” “¥ accept your statement implicitly,” David saii, drily. “Well, he is. And I got your letter. And I called.....And you nearly killed me. And I dropped it down in the cor- mer of the conservatory. “Dropped what?” David asked, sharp- said Van Sneck. “What n by talking about dron- ing things? I never dropped anything tm my life. I make others do that, eh, eh! But I cant remember anything. Et just comes back to me and then there fis 2 wheel goes round in my head..... Who are you?” David gave the matter up as hopeless. ‘This was, emphatically, a case for Bell. Qace kt him get Van Sneck back to Mtrighton and Bell could do the rest. “We'd better go,” he said to Enid. “We are merely wasting ttme here.” “I suppose so,” Enid said, thoughtful- ty. “All the same, I should greatly ike to know what it is that our friend, Wan Sn: , dropped.” It was a long nd tedious journey ack to Brighton again, for the pati: @eemed to tire easily, and evinced & marked predilection for sitting by the teadside and singing. It was very tate Before David reached his house. Bell eamed his satisfaction. Van Sneck, with a half-gleam of recognition of his @urroundings, and with a statement that he had been there before, lapsed “into silence. Bell produced a small pial in a chemist’s wrapper, and poured the contents into a glass. With @ curt command to drink, he passed the glass over to Van Sneck. The latter drank the small dose, and Bell carried him more or less to a small ground-floor bed room behind the din- fing room. There he speedily undressed his patient and got him into bed. Van Sneck was practically fast asleep be- fore his head had touched the pillow, “{ went out and got that dose with a wiew to eventualities,” Bell explained. “ knew pretty well what is the matter ‘with Van Sneck, and I propose to op- erate upon him, with the help of Heri- do tage. I have put him in my bed and Socked the door. I shall sleep in the biz arm chair.” David flung himself into a big deck Mounge and lighted a cigarette, “My word that this has been a bit of y&usiness,” he said. “Pour me out a lit- -@le whisky in one of the long glasses and fill it up with soda....Oh, that’s better. I never felt so thirsty in my “Wife. I got Van Sneck away without Hensan having the slightest suspicion that he was there, and I had the satis- faction of giving Henson a smashing blow without his seeing me.” “Sounds like conjuring,” Bell said, behind his cigar. “Explain yourself.” David went carefully into details. He told the story of Prince Rupert's ring to a listener who followed him with’ the most flattering attention. “Of course, all this is new to me,” Bell said, presently, “though I knew the family well up to that time. Depend upon it, Enid is right. Henson has got the ring. But how fortunately every- thing seems to have turned out for the scoundrel.” “Tf a man likes to be an unscrupulous blackguard, he can make use of all events,” David said. “But even Hen- son is not quite so clever as we take him to be. He has found out the trick we played upon him over Chris Henson, but he hasn't the faintest idea that all this time he has been living under the same roof at Littimer.” “The girl is a wonderful actress,” Bell replied. “I only guessed who she was. If I hadn’t known as much as I do, she would have deceived me. But Henson has shot his bolt. After we have op- erated upon Van Sneck we shall be pretty near the truth. It’s a great pull to have him in the house.” “And a nasty thing for Henson—” “Who will find cut before to-morrow is over. I feel pretty sure that this house is watched carefully. Any firm of private detectives would do that, and they need be told nothing, either. I know that I wa3 foilowed when I went to the chemist’s to fetch that dose for our friend yonder. Still, it is a sign that Henson is getting frightened.” “Why do you bring Heritage into this matter?” David asked. “Well, for a variety of reasons. First of ali, Heritag2 is an old friend of mine, and I take a great interest in his case. I am going to give him a chance to re- cover his lost confidence, and he is a splendid operator. Besides, I want to know why Henson has gone out of his way to be so kind to Heritage. And, finally, Heritage was the family doctor of the Carfax people you just men- tioned before he went to practice in London. Let me once’ get Heritage round again, and I shall be greatly dis- appointed if he does not give us a good deal of valuable information regarding 2eginald Henson.” “And Cross. What about him?” “Oh, Cross will. do as I ask hin. Without egotism, he knows that the case is perfectly safe in my.hands. -And if we care to look after Van Sneck, why, there will be one the less burden in the hospital. What a funny business it is! Van Sneck gets nearly done to death under this roof, and he comes back here to be cured again!” David yawned, sleepily, as he rose. “Well, I've had enough of it for to- night,” he said;. ‘I’m dog-tired, and I must confess to feeling sick of the Hen- sons and Littimer’s and all their works.” “Including their friénd, Miss Ruth Gates?” Bell said, slily. “Still, they have made pretty good use of you, and I expect you will be glad to get back to your work again. At the same time, you need not trouble your head for plots for many a day.” David admitted that the situation had its compensations, and went off to bed. Bell met him’ the rext day, as fresh as if he had had a full night’s rest, and vouchsafed the information that the pa- tient was as well as possible. He was coid and no longer feverish, “In fact, he is ready for the operation at any time,” he said, “I shall get Heritage here to dinner, and we shall operate afterwards with electric light. {t will be a good steadier for Heritage’s nerves, and the electric light is the best light of all for this business. If you have got a few yards of spare flex from your reading lamp, I'll rig the thing up without troubling your electrician. I can attach it to ycur study lamp.” “T’ve got what you want,” David said. “Now, come in to breakfast.” Thrre was a pile of letters on the ta- ble, and on the top a telegram. It was a long message, and Bell watched Da- vid’s face curiously, “From Littimer Castle?” he suggest- ed. “Am I right?” a “As usual,” David cried. “My little scheme over that diamcnd star has worked magnificently, Miss Chris tells me she has—by Jove, Bell, just listen-— she has solved the preblem of the cigar case; she has found out the whole thing. She wants me to meet her in London to-morrow, and she will tell me everything!”” CHAPTER XLVI. Littimer’s Eyes Are Opened. Lerd Littimer sat on the terrace shad- ed from the sun by an awning over his deck chair. From his expression, he seemed to be at peace with all the world. His brown, eager face had lost its usually keen, suspicious look; he smoked a cigarette, lazily. Chris sat opposite him, looking as little like a hardworking’ secretary as possible. As a matter of fact, there was nothing for her to do. Littimer had already tired of his lady-secretary. idea, and, wad Chris not interested and amused him, he would have found some means to get rid of her before now. But she did interest, and amuse and puzzle him. ‘There was something charmingly reminiscent about the girl. She was like somebody he had once known and cared for, but, for the life of him, he could not think who. And when curiosity sometimes got the better of his good breeding, Chris would baffle him in the most engaging manner. “Really, you are an exceedingly clev- er girl,” he said, , “In fact, we are both exceedingly clever,” Chris replied, coclly. “And yet nobody is ever quite so clever as he imagines himself to be. Do you eyar make bad mistakes, Lord Littimer?" “Scmetimes,” Littimer said, with a touch of cynical humor. “For instance, I married, some years ago. That was back Then I had a son, which was worse.” “At one time you were fond of your family?” - ‘ “Well, upon F word, you are the only creature I ever met who has had the audacity to ask me that question. Yes; I was very fond of my wife and son, and, God help me, I am fond of them still. I don’t know why I talk to you like this.” “T do,” Chris said, gently. ‘It is be- cause, unconsciously, you yearn for sympathy. And you fancy you are in no way to blame; you imagine that you acted in the only way consistent with your position and dignity. You fancied that your son was a vulgar thief. And I am under the impression that Lady Littimer had money.” “She had a large fortune,” Littimer said, faintly. ‘Miss Lee, do you know that I have a great mind to box your ears?” Chris laughed unsteadily. She was horribly frightened, though she did not show it. She had been waiting for days to catch Littimer in this mood. And she did not feel disposed to go back now. The task must. be accomplished some time. “Lady Littimer was very rich,” she went on, “and she was devoted to Frank, your son. Now, if he had want- ed a large sum of money very badly, and had gone to his mother, she would have given it to him without the slight- est hesitation?” “What fond mother wouldn’t?” “I am obliged to you for conceding the point. Your son wanted money, and he robbed you, when he could have had anything for the asking from his mother.” “Sounds logical,” Littimer said, flip- pantly. “Who had the money?” “The same man who stole Prince Ru- pert’s ring—Reginald Henson.” Littimer dropped his cigarette and sat upright in his chair. He was keen and alert enough now. There were traces of agitation on his face. “That is a serious accusation,” he said. “No more serious than your accusa- tion against your son,” Chris retortei. “Well, perhaps not,” Littimer admit- ted. “But why do you take up Frank’s cause in this way? Is there any ro- mance budding under my unconscious eyes?” “Now you are talking nonsense,” Chris said, with just a touch of color in her cheeks. “I say, and I am going to prove it when the time comes, that Reg- inald Henson was the thief. I am sorry to pain you, but it is absolutely neces- sary to go into these matters. When those foolisH letters, written by a fool- ish girl, fell into your hands, your son vowed that he would get them back, by force, if necessary. He made that rash speech in the hearing of Reginald Hen- son. Henson probably lurked about un- til he saw the robbery committed. Then it occurred to him that he might do a little robbery on his own account, se2- ing that your son would get the credit of it. The safe was open; so he walked off with your ring and your money.” “My dear young lady, this is all mere surmise.” “So you imagine. At that time Regi- nald Henson had a kind of home, which he was running at 218 Brunswick Square, Brighton. Lady Littimer had just relinquished a similar undertaking tnere. Previously Reginald Henson had a-home at Huddersfield, Mind you, he didn’t run. either in his own name, and he kept studiously in the back- ground. But he was desperately hasd up at the time, in consequence of his dissipation and extravagance, and the raoney he collected for his home went into his own pocket. Then the police got wind of the affair, and Reginald Henson discr2etly disappeared from Brighton just in time to save himself ‘from arrest for frauds there and at Huddersfield. A member of the Hud- dersfield police is in a high position at Brighton. He has recognized Reginald Henson as the man who was ‘wanted’ at Huddersfield. I don’t know if there will be a prosecution after all these years; but there you are.” “You are speaking from authority?” “Certainly I am. Reginald Henson, as such, is not known to Inspector Marley, but I sent the latter a photo- graph of Henson, and he returned it this morning, with a letter to the effect that it was the man the Huddersfield police were looking for.” “What an inieresting girl you are,” Littimer murmured. “Always so full of surprises. Our dear Reginald is even a greater rascal than I took him for.” “Well, he took your money, and that saved him, He took your ring, a fac- simile of which he had made before for scme ingenius purpose. It came with a vengeance. Then Claire Carfax com- mitted suicide, thanks to your indisere- tion and folly.” “Go on. Rub it in: Never mind about my feelings.” “T am not minding,” Chris said, cool- ly. “Henson saw his game, and played it boldly. I could not have told you all this yesterday, but a letter I had this morning cleared the ground wonderful- ly. Henson wanted to cause family differences, and he succeeded. Previ- ously he got Dr. Bell out of his way by means of the second Rembrandt. You can’t deny that there is a second Rem- brandt nov, seeing that it is locked up in your safe. And where do you think Bell found it? Why, at 218 Brunswick Square, Brighton, where Henson had to leave it seven years ago, when the po- Hee were so hot upon his trail. He was fearful lest you and Bell should come together again, and that is why he came here at night to steal your Rem- brandt. And yet, you trusted that man blindly all the time your own son was suffering on mere suspicions. How blind you have been!” “I'm blind still,” Littimer said, curt- ly. “My dear young lady, I admit that you are making out a pretty strong case; indeed, I might go farther, and say that you have all my sympathy. But what you say would not be taken as evidence in a court of law. If you produce that ring, for instance—but that is at the bottom of the North Sea.’ Chris took a small cardboard box from her pocket, and from it produced a ring. It was a ruby ring with black pearls on either side, and had some in- sent to me to-day by my—by a friend of mine. It is the ring which Reginald Henson shows to Lady Littimer when he wants money from her.. It was lost by Henson a night or two ago, and it “tell into the hands of seme one who is interested, like myself, in the exposure and disgrace of Reginald Henson.” Littimer examined the ring carefully. “It is a wonderfully-good imitation, he said, presently. “So I am told,” said Chris. So good that it must have actually been copied froma the original. Now, how could Henson have a copy made unless he possessed the original?? Will you be good enough to answer me that ques- tion, Lord Littimer?” Littimer could ¢o no more than gaze at the ring in his hand for some time. “I could have sworn—Indeed, I am ready to swear—that the real ring was never in anyboiy’s possession but mine from the day Frank was a year old un- til it disappeared. Of course, scores of yeople have looked at it, Henson among the rest. But how did Claire Carfax—” “asily enough. Henson had a first copy made from a description; I don’t know why; probabiy we shall never know why. Protably he had it done when he saw your son and Miss Carfax had struck up a flirtation. It was he who forged a letter from Frank to Miss, Carfax, inclosing the ring. By that means he hoped to create mischief which, if it had been nipped in the bud, could never have been traced to him. As matters turned out, he succeeded »e- yond his wildest expectations. He got the real ring, too, which was likely to prove a very useful thing in case he ever wanted to make terms. A second and a faithful copy was made—the copy you hold in your hands—to hold tempt- ingly over Lady Littimer’s head when he wanted large sums of money from her.” “The scoundrel! He gets the money, of course?” “He does. To my certain knowledge he has had nearly £70,000. But the case is in good hands. You have only to wait a few days longer and the man will be exposed. ‘Already, as you see, I have wound his accomplice, the Rev. James Merritt, around my finger. Of course, the idea of my getting up a ba- zar has all been nonsense. I am only waiting fora little further information, and then Merritt will feel the iron hand under the velvet glove. Unless I am greatly mistaken, Merritt can tell us where Rupert's ring is. Already Van Sneck is in our grasp.”’ “Van Sneck! Is ‘he in England?” “He is. Did you read that strange case of a man being found, half-mur- dered, in the conservatory of Mr. Steel, the novelist, in Brighton? Well, that was Van Sneck. But I can’t tell you any more at present. You must wait and be content.” “Tell me one thing, and I will wait as lcng as you like. Who are you?” Chris shook her head merrily. A great relief had been taken off her mind. She had approached a delicate and dif- ficult matter and she had succeeded be- yond her expectations. That she had shaken the man opposite her sorely was evident from his face. The hardness was gone from his eyes, his lips were no longer bitter and cynical. “I may have been guilty of a great wrong,” he murmured. “All these years 1 have been living under a misappre- hension. And you have told me what I should never have suspected, although I never hed a nigh opinion of my dear Reginald. Where is my wife now?” “She is still ac Longdean Grange. You will notice a great change in her, a great and sorrowful change. But it is not too late to—” Littimer rose and went swiftly to- wards the house. At any other time the action would have been rude, but Chris fully understood.- She had touched the man to the bottom of his soul, and he was anxious to hide his emotion, “Poor man!” Chris murmured. “His hard cynicism conceals a deal of suffer- ing. But the suffering is past; we have only to wait patiently for daylight now.” Chris rose, restlessly, in her turn, and strolled along the terrace to her favorite spot looking over the cliffs. There was nobody about; :t was very hot there. ‘Phe girl removed her glasses and pushed hack the banded hair from her forehead. She had drawn a photograph from her pocket, which she was regard- ing intently. She was quite heedless of the fact that somebody was comins along the cliffs towards her. She raised the photograph to her lips and kissed it tenderly, “Poor Frank!” she murmured. ‘‘Poor fellow, so weak and amiable, And yet, with all your faults—’ Chris paused, and a little eager cry escaped her lips, Frank Littimer, look- ing very wild and haggard, stood be- fore her. “I beg your pardon,” he began. “I came to see you because—" ‘The words died away. He staggered back, pale as the foam beating on the rocks below, his hands-clutching at his left side, as though there was some mortal pain there. “Chris,” he murmured. ‘Chris, Chris, Chris! . And they told me——” He could say no more, he could only stand there trembling from head to foot, fearful lest his mocking senses were making sport of him. Surely it was some beautiful vision he had come upon. With one unsetady hand he touched the girl’s sleeve; he pressed her warm red cheeks with his fingers, and with that touch his manhood came back to him. “Darling,” he whispered, “Dearest, what does it mean?” Chris stood there, smiling rosily. She had not meant to betray herself; fate had done that for her, and she was not sorry. It was a cruel trick ‘they had played upon Frank, but it had been necessary.,Chris held out her hand with a loving little gesture. “Are you going to kiss me, dear?” she asked, sweetly. Frank Littimer needed no further in- vitation. It was quiet and secluded there, and nobody could possibly see them, With a little sigh Chris felt her lover’s arm about her and his kisses warm upon her lips, the clever brilliaat girl had disappeared; a pretty, timid eagerly. creature stood in her place for the time. For the moment Frank Littimer could do no more than gaze into her eyes with rapture and amazement. There “Tt was absolutely necessary,” Chris replied. It was necessary to deceive Reginald Henson, But it was hard Work the other night.” “You mean when I came here and—” “Tried to steal the Rembrandt, Oh, you needn’t explain. I know that you had to come. And we have Henson in our power at last.” Chris proceeded to explain from the beginning of all things. It was an ex- ceedingly interesting and exciting nar- rative to Frank Littimer, and he fol- lowed it carefully. He would have re- mained there all day listening to the music of Chris's vcice and looking into her eyes. He had come there miserable and downcast to ask a question, and behold he had suddenly found all the joy and sweetness of existence. “And so you have accomplished all this?’ he said, at length. “What a glorious adventure it must have been, and how clever you are! Sois Mr. David Steel. Many a time I have tried to break through the shackles, but Reginald has always been too strong for me.” “Well he’s shot his bolt, now,” Chris smiled. “I have just been opening your father's eyes.” Frank laughed as he had not laughed for a long time. “Do you mean to say he doesn’t know who you are?” he asked. “My dear boy, he hasn’t the faintest idea. Neither had you the faintest idea when I made you a prisoner the other night. But he will know soon,”’ “God grant that he may,” Frank said, fervently. He bent over and pressed his lips pas- sionately to those of Chris. When he looked up again Lord Littimer was standing before the arbour, wearing his most cynical expression. “He do2s know,” he said. “My dear young lady, you need not move. The expression of sweet confusion on your face is infinitely pleasing. I did not im- agine that one so perfectly self-possess- ed could look like that. It gives me quite a nice sense of superiority, And you, sir?” The last words were uttered a little sternly. Frank had risen. His face was pale, his manner resolute and re- spectful. “I came here to ask Miss Lee a ques- tion, sir, not knowing, of course,who she was.” “And she betrayed herself, eh?” (To be Continued.) MILWAUKEE PEOPLE —— Could pos Bier It <A Prominent Woman Saved From Death by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetzbie Compound. “ Dear Mus. PINKHAM :—I suppose & large number of people who read of my remarkable cure will hardly believe it; had I not experienced it myself, I should not. know that I “] suffered for months with troubles peculiar to women which gradually broke down my health and my very life. I was nearly insane with pain at times, and no human skill I consulted in Milwaukee could bring me relief. “My attention was called to Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com- pound ; first bottle brought re- lief, and the second bottle an absolute cure.» I could not believe it myself, and felt sure it was only temporary, ‘but blessed fact, I have now been well for a year, enjoy the best of health, and cannot in words express my nenet itude. Sincerely yours, Saprz E. Kocx, 124 10th St., Milwaukee, Wis.”—$5000 forfeit if above testimonial is not genuine. Such unquestionable testimony roves the power of Lydia E. Pink- fam’s Vegetable Compound over diseases of women. Women should remember that they are privileged to consult Mrs. Pinkham, at Lynn, Mass., about their illness, entirely free. Were Men Scarce Then? The advantage of the modern Portia are counterbalanced by an equally large number of difficulties that con- front the women lawyer. Mayor Low’s secretary, James B. Reynolds, is still telling his friends a litle fling he had recently at Miss Rosalie Loew, the attorney for the Legal Aid Society. Miss Loéw was conducting a hearing before the mayor and called one morn- ing to tell Mr. Reynolds she could not attend the afternoon session. “T’*ve got to go over to Ludlow street and get a man out of jail,” she said by way of explanation. “Oh,” exclaimed Mr. Reynolds, in grave surprise. ‘Are they really get- ting as scarce as that?—New York Times. The Opium Curse in China. The statement that a German firm has offered the Chinese government $16,000,000 annually for the exclusive right to sell opium throughout the em- pire, is significant for the evidence it affords of the hold which the opium curse has upon the Chinese people. It is quite as consistent for the Germans to secure a monopoly of this miserable traffic as it was for England to force it upon China in the first place, but in neither case is the transaction credit- able to a professedl yChristian nation. The use of $15,000,000 worth of opium per year will go far towards offsetting all the good that all the missionary forces of other nations can do in China, and the fact that a traffic in the drug of such dimensions can be carried on successfully, is not a hopeful augury for the future of the Celestial empire —Leslie’s Weekly. Don't let the little ones suffer from eczema or other torturing skin diseases. No need for it. Doan’s Ointment cures. Can’t harm the most delicate skin. At any drug storo, 50 cents, Buzzard Likes Blue. It has just been discovered, presum- ably by a French scientist, that the miniature buzzard commonly known in New Jersey and vicinity as the mos- quito has a color sense so extremely keen that it exerts a great influence on its life and methods. it appears that rapacious insect has a pronounced preference for cark blue and a de- cided aversion-to yellow. This fact should set the fashion in pajama colors and lead the bald headed Jerseyman to adopt the practice of incasing nis dome of thought in a saffron envelope, like that of a ham, at night. It should also win benisons and shekels of gold and silver for the scientist who has discovered that the mystic minstrel of the marsh and mere is not color blind. His Unkind “Fling.” “I saw hint holding her hand,” said her small brother, whereat all the oth- er members of the family looked up. “Yes,” she replyied, calmly, “he has been studying palmistry. “Oh!” said the small brother. “He was reading the story of my life,” she persisted, calmly. For a moment it looked as if she had subdued the small brother. Then he remarked; “You must be pretty old, Sis.” pnt do you mean?” she demand- ed. “Tt was a long story.” “Don’t be absurd, Tommy.” “And a continued story.”—Brooklyn Eagle. Mrs. CampSell Was Angry. Ex-Congressman Tim Campbell says Mrs. Campbell spoke to him the other day about the advertisement of a but- tonless shirt. “What kind of a shirt is that?” she inquired. “Just like mine,” answered the ex- congressman, who, in telling the story, said, Mrs. Campbell didn’t speak to him for a week.—New York Times. A Deduction. “I wan’ shay ri’ here shat my wife's a charmer,” declared the obviousiy-in- toxicated gentleman, No person contradicting him, he con- tinued: “f wan’ Followed Wrong Funeral. They are telling a good story on a pair who were to have attended a fu- neral the past week. The pair got in- to the procession at the rear, and in go- ing down Front street became thirsty, and stopped at a saloon to get a glass of beer. They thought that they could easily catch up with the cortege again, and so they ordered another glass each. Finally, they whipped up, and, as they supposed, soon were plodding on the tail-end of the procession. Now, it happened that they were following an- other funeral entirely, and this one turned into Mount Calvary. When they discovered their mistake they whipped up again and hustled for Green Lawn, shay again, gemmen, my b Tiitels’ a easmen nsae ki os ut when they arrived the burial was pealeapany tomes n’stan’ me?—a| over, The couple had to explain, and there is where they made a mistake.— Here a small, clear voice from the Columbus Dispatch. . edge of the crowd was heard to In- quire: “A snake-charmer?”’—Judge. Impossible to foresee an accident. impossible to be BE enn for it. ‘Thomas’ Eclectric Not Dr. How Necessary. il. Mouarch over pain. “How did that light opera of yours turn out?” asked the young composer. “A beastly failure.” “What was the reason?” “Well, you see, the stage managér forgot to load down the poor, simple village maidens who tra-la-la through the piece with silk dresses and paste diamonds.”—Judge. Too Much of a Good Thing. One cannot have everything in this world,” said Mrs. Van Vorst. “One wants soup, and one wants salt in one’s soup and occasionally there is a pinch too much. Still, a fact is a fact, and duty is duty, and one must cat. one’s soup, even if it is too salt.—Li pincot: ' sa Explained. “What's the matter with the corre- spondence editor?” inquired a sub-edit- or. “He looks mad.” “Why,” replie@ another, “several days: ago he told an anonymous cor- respondent how to learn to play the cornet, and now he’s discovered that the fellow lives next door to him.”— Cassell’s Journal. uy man wants everything he can get, and a woman wants everything can’t get. : an Trying to Explain It. “It it said that the grand duke Boris will spend his time in this country quietly ,at San Francisco and New York.” “Yes; I notice that he is reported to have lost $3,500 at poker on the Pacific steamer coming over’—Cleveland Plain Dealer. Put Teeth on the Clams. Thomas C. Smith, a broker, was din-