Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, October 1, 1893, Page 18

S —— 18 A PRINITIVE POEM. The following beautiful poem Is justly con- siderad a literary gem of high order. The original is found 1n an Irish mau wreipt in Trinity collnge, Dublin. There is reason to think that the poom was written by one of those primitive Christian bards in the reign of King Diarmid, about the year 554, and was sur chanted at the last grand as- sembly of kings, ftains and_bards held in the famous halls of Tara. The transia- tion is by the learned Di. (’Dono; Man's Mortality. Like a damnsk rose you see, Dr lke a blossom o the tree, T ke (e dainty flower in May, O 1ike the moruing to the d Or like th un, or ke the OF like the gou'rd which Jor G Evon such < o Iiread 18 spun, Drawn out, and ) is done. he rose withors, tho som blnstoth, s flower fades. the morning wasteth, e sun sots, the shadow flies, ird consumes, the man he dies. Like the grass that's nowly sprung, Or like the tale that's new begun, Or Iike the bird that's hero today, Cr Iike the penrled dew of May, Or like the or ik Or like the singing of the 1 Sven man, who lives b hiere, now there, in 1 or d ho gras \ers, the tale Is ended, i Bird s flowss, the detw nsconded, he hour §s short, the «pan not lon TTho swin's nent death, man's iifo (8 done. Like the bubble in the bhrook, Or In w gliss much like a look, | Or liko the <huttle in a weaver's hand, Or 1ike the writin, Or liko a thought Or like the Gven such is nun, who 1t re, now there, In 1if he bubble's out, tho look for, 5 flung, the wri o thought |5 passed, the dream is gone, The waters glide, man's ife is done. Like to the arrow from the how, Or like tho course of wat Or Iiko that time 'twixt flo der's tender web, or 1ike a o, Aling of adole, an, whoso brittle state 18 lways subject unio fato. The urrow Is shot, the flood soon spent, The time's no time, the weh soon rent, The race is ran, the goal svon won, The dole soon dealt, man's lite soon done. Like tc the lightninz in th Or like tl; sky, past which quick doth hio, Or like the quaver in asong, Or liko a journey throo duys long, Or like the snow when suniner's gono, pear, or 1iko a_pium, such [ man, who heaps up sorrow. 1l dies tomorrow. past, the past must Ko, s short, the journey so, ho pear doth rot, the plum doth'tall, Tho snow dissolves, and so must all, UNDER 1 lllims OF SHASTA. Overland Monthly. Mary Fenton was turning over the leaves of the latest summer novel in a listless fashion as she sat on ‘*“The Tav- ern” poreh. The glory of an early June day was about her. Cedar, sugar-pine, and dogwood gleamed frosh in their dif- ferent shades of green from the shower of the day before. Shasta hihes, wild roses, yellow violets and myriads of other {lowers, clustering in close brotherhood with the timothy grass in the meadow beyond, filled the clear air with a penetrating fragrance. The meadow-lark trilled in the tall pines, and a small boy reported the finding of a flock of young grouso in the cornfield. The trout were beginning to jump in the Sacramento, and the early anglers were gathered in small groups a little distance from her, discussing with deep intent- ness the respective merits of brown hackel versus royal coachman. Mary Fenton loathed the tone of the lace. It recked of fish; fish that had en caught or hooked, and fish to be landed. 'The atmosphére was monot- onously fishy. It generally is on the Sacramento, where the trout ars wary and men are loyal to fli A caso of nervous prostration was the ostensible cause of Miss Fenton’s re- moval to tho bracing mountain air; it the family Galen had but known it, she was more truly suffering from a sovere attack of indecision of mind. Richard Drake was the subject of this wavering, whereby her checks were paled and her nights made sicepless. The bum of the refrain, “When T was on the McCloud in '76,” “*Dolly Varden weighing ten pounds,” sounded to her ear like gibberish, as she laid her book down in her lap and fell to thinking and arguing with herself, the same old story. Mary Fenton had not been of the toilers of tnis life, nor did she aspire to that honor. She had been bred in a selfish sort of way, with deepest regard for the great ego. Happiness meant to her smooth sailing; a ripplo on the stream, unpleasantness, and unpleasant- ness—disastoer. In her trim tailor-made gown she formed a natty picture, as she ‘rocked slowly to and fro in a low chair, under the shadow of the hop yines that clam- bered up the pillars of the piazza. Even the fishermen gave her u littlo of their admiration, together with the speckled beauties -and the fishermen were not oung. The pucker of thought on her row was rather becoming. In her un- conscious pose she presenied a picture of the best nineteenth century cultiva- tion, The world was very serene to her when Richard Drake” drifted into her life. She liked him. He was well in- troduced, belonged to the Drakes of Boston, was handsome, a trifle uncon- ventional, which she rather censured, and lastly, was a bank clerk with no for- tune and caved Jittle for amassing one, a lack of ambition that she could not quite comprehend, Atfirst ho startled her in her quiot, measured existence, then amused, then interested, and finally was tho cause of the nervous prostration and mountain trip out of the season, he Pentons had ouly a fair supply of this world's goods. Young sisters were firowlng up and with marrciage Mary new that she had hor own way to make, Richard Drake grew more fascinating, but she could not yet decide whether life was worth living with poverty con- stantly in the foreground; whether things sho prizad dearest could be given up for one man’s sake. This was the sroblum that troubled her as she sat in eop refloction, until she heard some one address her timidly: “Would you like ma'am?”’ Startled, she looked up and saw a {oung girl, with hands extended full of he wonderful pitcher plant that grows in abundance up the slope of Castle Crags, “Where did you get them? *'Bout five miles from here,” “DId you go yoursel{#" Miss Fenton looked curiously at ths young girl, who flushed slightly as she replied “'Course, I thought maybe you ladies at the hotel might like to bu: as the walk’s too rough for you.” S will take ther,” she said. The girl was a picturesque figure, tall and slender,with a crop of short reddish ourls clustering around her head and straggling over the brim of ar old Blflrelw hat, which was faded into a full bluish gray, and set well vack on her head, loaving the sun a good chance to tinge hor face with the rich brown color of health. She wore an old navy blue blouse with coliar turned low at the throat, showing B superb ourve, Her short galico skirt some flowers, was dreuched from serambling through underbrash, and clung close to her figure. Her old ecanvas shoes wer trifle large for | and smed rvelics together with the hat Mary Fenton's fa a lighted up with new interest as she looked at the lithe, ised young figu you've heen ten miles nd it s s o 07 rattlesnakes on Castle O The girl laughed. “Rattl sho oxclaimed scornfully. Her large gray cyes looked at the speaker in in- dignant_protest. “You don't supp I'm such_a baby to be skcered of a rattler. ['ve killed many of ‘em round our cabin door 1n Ovegon, I've got twelve rattles and a button down at the camp I'll fotch up to show you, if you like, som Tho fre< 1d honest soul looking out from her great earnost ¢ fascinated Mary Fenton, as she drew out her purso to pay for the orchids, and she tried to keep her for a while. Enthusiasm was not good form in Miss Fonton's world, but it might be permitted another class, and the mountains, rivers and fish- ermen were 8o full of ennui to her just then. “What is your name YKit—Kit Jones,” she nsked. he replicd, moving vou live in the camp ncross the ith the campers who camo last liss enton asked with interest. she answered ina lower tone . *‘There’s only me, mother and Bill. T must go now.” I'm the head of the shebang. Bill is sick:" a shade passed over hor merry, childish foce. “May I come over and see the rattles some day, and will you bring me somo Shasta lillies?" *The white kind that smells?” Kit questioned, **Bill likes them best, Yes, 1 know the best place for them, up the ridge.” She started away on a qui of voi then looked back, shoutin might come this evening; may be com- pany will do him good. She was graceful as o young deor as she ran across the road ana disappeared into a clamp of pines, from the midst of which ascended a blue curl of smoke, The day wore on, and Miss Fenton had not written the letter that she had almost decided W to send Richard Drake to his fat Tho long afternoon was coming to a close. M ondragon, Mary's aunt and chaperone, had repaired to the spring with her chums for her after dinner glass of soda water. The fishermen, after stealthily watching each oth -movements, had slunk off, one by one, in different directions, rods in hand, to whip the stream. Mary Fenton declined all invitations, asshe” sat watching the blue smoke among the pines, and resolved to stroll over to the camp. She thought of the invalid, and took some choice fruit, which had been sent her the day before, and sauntered across the road. Before she reached tho camp she heard a dry, hacking cough, which foro- boded too well the nature of the malady She stopped a minute before the campers saw her, and surveyed the scene. There were two tents pitched close to- gether under two big sugar pines, and a Tittle to one side four young saplings had been cut off and roofed over with a covering made of rough grain sacks sewn together. Under that, on a couch made of pine boughs and covered with wwo or three patchwork calico quilts, lay a young fellow, who looked scarcely 22or 23, coughing as if his very soul was racked with pain. It needed buta glance at his sunken cheeks and hollow eyes to tell her that he was doomed. She had scen so many hopeless cases in Santa Barbara and San Diego. Kueeling before a very small fire, blowing as'if her life depeénded upon it, knelt Kit. Her hat was thrown on the ground, ared shawl was pinned across her shoulders, and she looked like a young dryad as she puffed at the dull embe An old woman, with care-worn faco and gray hair twisted into a hard littlo knob, was standing near an impro- vised shelf cutting thick picces of fat bacon into a frying pan. Mary Fenton felt ina flash that sho knew them—**Me and mother and Bill” —and felt in sympathy with them. The minor chord in life is very fascinating when it does not vibrate for ourselves, Kit saw her at last, and sprang up hastily, her cheeks aflame from the ex- ertion, and her short curls, tossed and tangled by the evening wind, standing up like a halo about her head. Kit was hardly more than 17, but well developed for her age, showing the cfiect of moun- in air and training. ud to see you!” She extended her hand, grimy with ashes and charred The 0ld woman looked up without any interest at the arrival—no light in her faded gray oyes. “Mother,” Kit waved her hand, by way of introduction, in the direction of the frying pan. The old woman grimly nodded. “Bill.” Her voice softened as sho stepped near the couch. The man looked up with a gleam of intorest as Mary Fenton came forward and offered him the fruit, “Thanks.” Tlo spoke in a fretful voice, broken by coughing. *I'm power- ful tived of bacon. Them cherries look cool,” Kit's hands hung listlessly by her side. A look of distress crept into her soft eyes. I know, Bill, it's powerful hurd. The bacon is salt and hard; but it's all 1 can do just now. Mayhe tomorrow—" her face brightened—*i'm going to get some lilies for Miss Fenton, and they’ll let me have a little beef, just for you, at the hotel.” With a shrug of fretful impatience the man turned his face away from them, and lay silontly munching the fruit. “Your brother is quite ill,” Miss Fen- ton said as Kit accompanied hor. across the road. "My brother! Why, it's Bill!" Kit looked vp into her face with surprise, and thensaid inexplanation: I forgo everybody knew us in Oregon, Bill and I arc sweethearts—have been since we were littlo kids. We are going to be married,” she straightened herself up with a comical air of dignity, “when Bill gets well,” Her voice faltored. “Miss Mary—mayn't | call you that? | heard tho 0ld lady at the hotel say your name, and I liked it Will you walk up the road a piece with me this even- ing, the way you see Shasta® We see the whito mounting at home, and when a lump comes into my throat and I fe a bit down, it does mb good to see it up there in the sky, looking down on me just as it does at home. All the time when we were coming 1 kept looking over my shoulder, and the white mount- ing kept following us, us if it was going to take keer of all of us.” She drew he sleove across her eyes, as if to brush away a little moisture, then pulled the old cigarette hut down low over hor face, giving it a sort of rough pat. *It's one of Bill's old ones,” she said in a half aside. Tt was growing dusk, The long shad- ows of the pines on either side fongn.- ened quite across the road, until their tips were lost in the wild tangle of azalows and bracken by the wayside, The Sacramento kept up a gurgle and a rush just below, which blended in with the soft soughing' of the pines. Mary Fenton walked close by Kit's side, and waited for her to speak. “'Well, Miss Mary, you are so good t him, I'll tell youn just fre the begin- | ning, and [ thi Miss Mary, T knowed the first minu t1 saw you setting there in that ng chair t you was an angel, and maybe could help 13il 1me lived all alone in a hern Ovegon. Father was killed when [ was born—spree,” she ex- hort ‘Mother since plained s sort of a mise en hore, bas always She's never Appy, ¢ She didn't want to come. Bill's folks lived noxt to us, 'be two miles away. Bill's oider than mo, but he was always sickly: didn't like boys: 80 when 1 was hig' enough we playod togethor, and i d 1o me, and i used “Bill's folks and Bill stayed vht for Bill. ent home to Missouri Ho's a woodchoppe and me ana Bill, we've s loved each othe Mo and mof red our ground ourselves, and we've always be dirt poor; but me g happy. You see, have got ¢ got all that cold, last wintor him homo and nursed him, Ho pretty bad. Tt was u hard winter, and I thought it never would st ot punier and punic Mother was the way of the Lord, bocause 1 was s0 set on Bill; but, Miss Mary, 1 knowod bette They reached the was wet, view of Shasta, and walked to a little spot away om tho road. Kit picked out a smooth log, folded Miss Fenton's shawl over it, and made her sit down, while she stood fac- ing the great w y mountain, “It kept on raining, and I rode to the n our cabin, and I her where the ive him a chance ) ched up to our lit- tle wagon and we came. 1t rained here, but it ain't ngto more, and he will get well, I know it Her voice grew more cheerful with hope. She stood silent for a moment face uplifted in thought, and noticing the stars beginning to out, one by one, above Shasta, she “Why, Miss Mary, it's gotting We must be going h % All the w: back chatted cheer- fully, telling little s of her home, all entwined with ancedotes of Bill and full of his praises. As they neared the camp the samo hacking cough broke the stiliness of the night. Kit started as if it hurt her “I shouldn't have left him. Wait a Miss Mary, 1 must give him his medicine, therr I'll see you home.” Miss Fenton declined her offer, as it wus only a short distance to the tavern, and as she turned away sho hoard the queralous tones of the invalid scolding air was dryver, and 1 didn't wait, but h with then, come d: cold. moment Kit, who answered him with cheery tenderness, One of the fishermen joined her his thoughts were uplifted, and she half absent mind- edly admired his booty und sought her room. Poor little Kit, ignorant, half formed she neared the tavern, show basket of two-pounders. He e her child, had raised Mary Fenton to heights she had never dreamed of. If Richard Drake had been there that nig press his suit she could have put he in the background and been ready to face the world with him. Daylight often brings us down from our pedestals: so it was with her. She was not quite so sure in the morning. 1t is easier to bo heroie by the glamour of moonlight than in the clear rays of the midday sun, The letter was still unwritten, but the mountains p ssed a new interest for her. Mrs., Pendragon wrote privately to Mrs. Fenton that Mary was gaining color and appetite, and never mentioned the objectionable young man, but turned her attention to a *‘dirty lot of Or camper Kit ran in for a few mome: day, bringing white Shasta 1li rave ferns from *‘away up Sody creek,” or burning tiger lilies, regal in brown and gold: and Miss Fenton kept the invalid, who was rapidly failing, supplied with dainties She found out very soon that Bill was commonplace and selfish. He had a rather handsome, weak face, and Kit was blind to his weaknesses and faults. He grew so much wol that Kit could hardly leave him at last. The weather was warm and she worked all da; nd often sat up all night to watch by h side and humor his fanc Ho was not able to walk: the dry air could not help. And then Kit never came to the tavern and Mary Fenton went to her every day. Mrs. Jones frotted to go home. “Bill's as _good one place as another,” she grumbled; but Kit clung to the belief that there he must get wi As the days passed on' tho every 'k man grew weaker and weuker, and more fretiul, Kit sat by himall tho time, his hand in hor's.” There were dark rings widening under her oyes from slecpless nights and the young cheeks were growing hollow. Mary Fenton saw with a pang that the slender fingers which she ran through the curly erop were growing pitifully thin, Kit had become very dear to her. She could not bear to sev” the bright young life merged into this dull sudness, and she folt helpless, Kit would not believe what was shortly coming. BEvery time that Miss Fenton came with somothing tempting and the sick muan refused it > would say, with a ghosy of the old, y laugh, “You've spoilt him, Miss , nothing’s good enough now." The gay tavern lifo went on, Mary Fenton joined in the drives and walks, dunced and moved on with the rest of the summer guests, but her heart was with Kit, under the pines. *What do you see in that little curly- headed Oregon girl?” one of the fisher- men asked, laughin My better self, passed on, The weather was very sultry., The jagged peaks of Castle Crags stood bare she answered, and and gray against the deep blue sky, Not n stirred. Even the viver moved sluggishly, like oil. July had been ushered in by a north wind, and that al- ways weans dry, encrvaling, lifoless heat. The ladies lounged around the tavern plazza in cool white muslin, with palm- leaf fans and iced lemonades near at haand, and growled vehemently, The fishermen wiped the perspiration from their foreheads, assorted their flies, and each tried to outvie the other in new fish stories. Mary Fenton sat a little to one side, imo by the heat, and giving up th idea of speing Kit that day. Again her book lay idly'in her lap, and she sat dreaming. Coming up the road in the hot, daz- zling sun, Kit walked slowly through the dust, her hands clasped ™ togethor and her eyos staving intently down at the ground. She walked so slowly she seemed hardly to move. *Miss Mary.” She spoke in tones, without looking up. I've come to tell yo Bill's gono—last night- Nothing but dull apathy in her face, not a sob to break the silenco. She stood full in the heat, a broken, life- less figure Mary Fenton started. *I did not think that it would be so soon, dear.” She went down the steps, close to the givl, aud took her hand. “Come out of the sun. Come." Kit raised her eyes, a denth of sad reproach in them. Jo you think I would loave him now, Miss § Mary?” she hollow ““Miss Mary, monotonous tone d to get her to accompany | “Don't come, Miss Mary. I would r you would not. 1 must be alone, fo fittle while,"” sho faltored. wher lows we must got along home day tomorrow, and we nust leave him. 1 eame to you—to fix thing Mary Fenton pressod her hand warmly in hors in a s of he “It you wouldn't ‘mind, | couldn’t it be whers he m | mountain? You knaow, I c home, and it wonld by together.™ dear ch omething for us Yes, ld, 1 will do anything ‘onton's over with tears, as sunshine and wat eyes wore brimming 1e stood still in the » youny figure, r slowly among such godlike, " asked for nothing and otion, unselfishness, i she murmured gave eve poor child"™ Miss Fenton attended to Kit's reques and the day after Bill id at rest on a hillside, where the vm of Shasta could always be seen, The next morning she went to the mp and found Mrs, Jones busily pack- ing up, more cheerful than usual, The tents wore down, and Kit was lifting the heavy things with her strong young arms, and tying them into the wagon. She wore the same old blouse and cigar ctto hat, butall the luoyancy was gone from her face. She was very quict as she called Miss Fenton aside and unticd an old stocking. 1 want to pay you for No, child, 1 overything can never vepay you, Kit gazed at her with a look of dazed inquiry: then went on harnessing the old raw-boned horse ard hitched him to the vagon. 1t will be lighter drivin® home,” Ms, Jones observed, as she tucked the last blanket around the frying pan. N Fenton never forgot the look of rony that erept into Kit's SOft ves as she looked at her mother. Then sho pulled her bat further down over her faco with the same old gesture, as she mbered into the high scat of the wagon and took the reins, while her mother got up beside her, “You will have a long, hot driv Miss Fenton said stupidly. “Oh, we'll stop with folks over night and it will be real pleasant,” Mrs. Jones answered, tying her sun bonnet strin Mary Fenton elimbed up on the wagon wheel and kissed Kit warmly and whis- pered, “I'll take some Shasta lilies to his grave. I will remembe Then a ¢ i of the long willow switch that served for a whip, the old horse started up and they wero gone. I"enton watched the bobbing of the short reddish curls amid the clouds of dust until a turn jn the road Itid them: then she sat down under a pine, covered her face with her hands, and cried. She sat there for some time. At last she heard a footste)) erackling vho dried vine needles and looked up, ‘Dick!” she exclaimed with a start, and began, womanlike, smoothing the ruflled hair on her forehead. ““I Thought you were never going to write, so L came to you.” He held out his hand to her. “I'came on the morn- ing train, missed you at the tavern, and was told that you'were over in this di- rection, helping . some protegees of ours, Crying! little woman He aught sight of her tear stained face, then taking it between both of his hands ho said tenderly, “Now, Mary, tell me, have you decided?”, Theé answer came very faintly, “Yes, Dick.” Then half to “herself sho re- peated Kit's homely words, “If folks have gov each other in this world, they've got all that's wanted. Oh, " she continued, with the new en thusiasm shining in her eyes, enthusi- asm that she had always voted bad —**the noblest soul I ever saw has gone from me today.” Mary Fenfon's life was blessed by Kit's unconscious hund, and poor little Kit, far away on her Ovegon land, toiled loyally, looking up at night at Shasta’s white peak and praying that soon she might fold her hands, and that she and Bill could bo happy together some- where above the great white mountain. St i e Borore breakfast Bromo-Seltzer Acts as a b 1l bottle 10 ets. ——— CONNUBIALITILES, A Roman Iride was carricd to her futur home und lifted across the threshold by her husband, Down to the present century a part of the marriage ceremony in Hungary consisted in the groom giving the bride Kick to remind her of her subjection. Among the head hunters of Borneo a man is not permitted 10 marriage to a wouwman of his tribe until he brings her the head of a man killed by himself. lust because a married man spends ings at theelub it isn't s that his wife is sitting neglected and deso- late at home, may be mighty glad that he's aw Horseback weddings, in which the bride and groom mounted on' horseback run away from the attendants, who ride after them in hot haste, were formerly common in many countries, and may still bo seen in Russia and parts of Tartary In wan of England a husband who boats his wifeor a wife who henpecks her husband is seranaded with “rough music,” that 15, the sounds produced by drums, tin puns, horns and other objects, the general cffect being that of o charivar, The engagement is announced of Duke Don Miquel of Braganza, hoad of that an- cient and illust house, and r Theresa of Lo Kurl of thatn ous venstein, daughter of Prince me. ‘e duke, a colonel of an Austrian regiment, wis once married to u princess of Thurmand Tuxis, whose family for centuries had the mouopoly of the postal system of Austria. nothing when she was marriod esc sponsibility for her debts, Womes then often” married in 4 singlo garmont to reliove themsolves of indebtodness. A young and noble German lady of the sixteenth cen urance doubly sure, had tho ormed while she was , entirely divestod of She put out hor hand through the cracl of th rand was thus married. As soon as the coremony was performed tho groow, clergyman und witnesses loft the room, she came out, od olf in clothes provided by her husband and took her placo at the marriage feus The | wedding, which 1 on the second annive can now be made a o one not long ago the bride and g dresses and flowers of paper, the house was decorated with maryelous paper flowers and the plates and napkins were of Tho guests were requested o without standing in a clothing. he observed rming me gifts, but if one wills it otherwisc so mauy” beautirul things can be fashioned out of u little crepe paper thut it is no grievous tax on one's fricnds. Lamp shades, articles for the dressing table and table spredds o pretty gifts. Choico photogruphs, etehings books und a suvscription for a magazine would give a more enduring pleasure at no very great outlay. Silverbrook, a small town six of Hudeton, Pa., was turncd topsy turyey last week by the' sensational termination of & wedding for which elaborate a 0, miles west ments had been made. The bride-elect was Maude Kalskey. Miss Kalskey's charms had captivated scores of the sterner sex o and not w of them were aspirants for her hand. Awong the latter were C 1ce winters and Jobn Formoska. Hoth paid the young lady markea atiention and un abouta month ago no one could tell which would be the favored It was then annouvced that Winters Miss Kalskoy were to be married. Tuesday was to be the wedding day. The guests had as- scwbled ab vhe bowe of the Lride and the PAGES ! | —not gaudy | claims the man." — Shakespeare. They came Result Trousering ? wer, $7.50, $8.00 $8.50, $9.00 $9.50, $10.00 Orer your suit while these prices last We will continue this sale one week longer—price w time—order your suit tomorrow, and take advant: [ “Costly thy babit, as thy purse can | by, but not expressed in fancy; rich for the apparel oft pro- We will keep our tailors busy this week Money Saved. They saw “Ar economical and shrewd mortal 18 he. *'Who shivering in his last summer’s suit,” will hasten to place* his order for a Fall suit, where he can save from $6.00 to $16.00,” —Nicoll, They were convinced. Note the prices $25.00, $27.00, $28.00 Suits to Order $30.00, $32.00, $33.00 $35.00. $37.00, $38.00 $40.00, $42.00, $45.00 this week L “ L) this week “ 1) 13 1 “" 11 this week we show about the most complete line of N — . . . “all and Winter trousering in the city—a few of these w window—they're worth looking at $6.00, $6.50, $7.00 Trousers to order [ e .5 this week “ m “ this i [ 1 this week this vieek $30.00 ith prices in our this week $5.00 week $7,00 Several hundred new customers last week, $20.00 $25.00 $35.00 $6.00 $8.00 ill positively be advanced after that age of the reduced prices—delay means the loss of some of the most desirable patterns—the .assortment will satisfy the most fastidious mind. If you are not prepared to order now out your pattern—and we will lay it aside for you, —call around anyhow—leave your measure—pick ‘We have every shade, style and quality in Overcoating. (Same Roduction in Price This Woolk.) Samples to Non-residents. — minister stood in readiness to tie the nuptial knot. Despite ail this Formoska, the re- jected lover, did not lose hope, Miss Kalskey had come to Hazelton on the morning of her wedding day to maioe the final purchases for her bridal outfit. Her old lover, it seems, learned of this, and when she was ready to return to Silverbook met her on the train and again he pressed his suit. He pleaded with her to forsake the man who was then waiting her arrival at the dopot. Whether the woman consented to do this is notkuown, but wnen the train stopped at Silverbook she did nov alight from it. Winters, who stood at tho depot, saw the train pull out. He nced anxiously at the receding cars and ught sight of val. ———— Sweet breath, sweet stomach. sweet met- per? Then use DeWitt's Litule Karly Risors. . IMFPIEILES, Detroit ce Press: The mountain circuit rider met me at the foot of Hurricane Gap in the Pine mountains and we rode along to- gether, and about a mile from where the roads forked we were stopped by a moun- wineer with a Winchester whom the preacher knew. He uted me in due form, and ¢ knew I was an *outsider” he didn't hesitate to talk “1 just stopped yer,” he said to the . “ter ax yer to come up to the house in the mornin’.” “Anybody sick?” inquired the preacher, “No,” and the mountain, hesitated. “You know, you have been 1kin’ ver me for a long time erbout gittin’ religion an’ 1 been a-holdin’ off 2 Tho preacber nodded and looked pleased, for there was tone of penitence in the na- tive's voic “‘Well, I've erbout maae up my mind that I've got to the p'int when somethin’s got ter bo done, Jim Gullins came 1n my plice this mornin’ and killed one of my aogs when 1 was away, an’ you've heard mo say what thought of Jim Guilins many a time aforo this.” The preacher time, “Well, I'm goin’ down to see Jim now continucd the mountaincer, “an’ if 1 git him you come up in the mornin', an’ if Jim gits me you'll have a funcral to preach, so's you won't lose nothin’ by it, noho gittin' along; goodby,” and slinging Winchester into the hollow of his arm hurried away through the thicket, the circuit rider and meo sitting spoe on vur horses nodded sorrowfully this { must bo nis he Globe v “fu one of tne s towns in northern Missourl, u few one of the churches concluded th: 0, An organ would aud o the attractions of the church and the se genera , and s in regard to atter, decided to purchase As is ulways the the fow dissenting voices. T'he most aggressive opposition was from Brother T, u deacon. lie objected to an organ. He believed it sinful to play upou any kind of instrument during services. But the wajority of the i were not dis” way and pur the deacon's chased th r' The following Sunda wishes fter tho organ had been placed in, the ehurch tho doacon Look & seat on the front row. his usual custom. The organist pl voluntary, and after the singing of hymns, in which the doacon was onserved to take no part. the mioister asked, “Will Brother T lead us in prayer?’ Much to the consternation of the~ mimster and the audience, the deacon replied, pointing to the organ: *“That thing doss yer singin’, can't it do yer prayin', 1ot minister was preach- the new Tho castern visitin ing to a Colorado congregation on Jerusalem. ud,” ho was saying, paved with gold— “Dow't insisl on that," interrupted the howe preacler iu & whisber, as bo pulled Lis 1o strects are e e coat tails, “Don't 5 on that, 1f you ex- pect to get auy immigrants for heaven, be- cause this congregation is for silver every day in the year, and gold is pizen to them.’ —— AINDUSTRIAL NOT S, Some Australian gold veins are 130 Jeet wide. n factories and creameries are being built all over New Humpsh! nd Vermont. The United States produces more grain in proportion to population than any other nation. Thinner than tissue paper are sheets of iron that run 4,800 to an inch, recently rolled in Wales, About 60 per cent of the conp in this country comes from the L ior region, In manufacturing occupations the average ife of soap-boilers is the highest and that of grindstono makers the lowest. A new invention is an attachment for a horse's bridle, by means of which the animal may carry a lamp on its head. To make 1,000 cubic feet of illumin gas, cight pounds of coal, costin and four gallons of naphthu, costing are required. There is a tiroproof covering for walls, composed of ashestos sheets, sofiened by steaming, embossed by roilers and dried and painted or otherwise decorated. France was very much disturbed by strikes last year. An o 1 roturn shows that in twelve months th were closo upon 300 -ado disputes affecting 105,000 workmen. The first printing pross, with the utmost diligence, could be made to print from twenty to thirty-five sheets an hour, on one side only ; the printing presses of today print from 25,000 to 30,000 1 the same time on both sides, The reclamation of 200,000 Mojave desert is one of th entorprises ever undertaken in southorn Cauhfornis, and from the indications the pro. 2t will go through. The plan is to irrigate o large acreage near Vietor, in San e nardino county. Some of the hest engineors of the state have reported the enterpriso feasible An inventor has deviseda genuine burglar proof sufe for vailway trains. 1t1s arrange with two combination locks, Just shen the bold train robber darkens the car doorwa, pistol in hand, the oxpress messenge touches a little’ spring. In an instant th sufe is lock bination of num bers which v himself does not know and could not to save his life. “The agent ut the main stition has that com- bination set down in his books, ana he must hunt it out beforo the safe can be opened With this device the robber, the messeng and the station nt must all bo in league before an express car safe can be robbed By the experiments at the Watertow | arsonal it has beou demot that cut uails have » holding power per cent greater than wire nails. In fifty-eight serios of tests the cut nails came cut ahead, u re sult which may stay the tendency of the wire nails to absorh the warket except for pack ing boxes and other temporary work in soft wood, where the wire nail, on “account of its e produced o Super. ting cents, cents, acres of tho 108t stupendous infrequent sphitting of tho wood, will rir main the favorite. The eut nail manufac- turers have been rowarded for insisting on the test, - The mace used by the speaker of the houso of represeutatives is wade of thirteon ebony | rods twined Lo silver bunds. sthor and held ia place by - The old-fashioned aictionaries “luncheon” from *nuncheon” or “noonchun the refreshinents taken at noon when la. borers desist from work to suun the sun. e Millions drink Cook's Extra Dry Imperial Champagne every year, uud Lhe nuwmbers wre rolling up with a rush, derive HOTELS, The Mercer. Omaha’s New~estHotral, Cor. 12th and Howard Streets 40rooms per day. 40rooms £5.00 por duy #0rooms with bath st 1 por day, * S0 rooms with bath 9) per lag Moder: OHNSON'S MACNETIC OIL! Instant Killer of Pain. Internal and External. Curos RHEUMATISM, NET GIA, 1 ick, Spra Swollings, SUIT Joints, SCRAMPS'stantly, — (holora Mor- hus, Croup Diptheria, Sore Thront, IE, 08 if by magi Especially pared for Siock, Doublo Btrength, Penetrating: nontfor Man Large §1 sizo 76, b0c. 8120 dlce JOHNSON'S ORIENTAL SOAP, Meodicated and Tollet. The Great Skin Cure and Face Beautifior. Ladies will find it o most 1i und highly perfumed Tollot Sonp on It 15 abgolutely pur Makes the oft and velvety and rostores the lost com= plexiony it n lu for the Bath for Infants. t alays 'itehing, ol o scalp and promotes tho growth of halr, Pricouse, For sulo by Kuhn & Co., Sole Agents, Omaha,Neb. vom U, 8. Journal of Medicine IL.Pec Prof. W whomalicsa apec aso which o 4 with u large botile of Lis absolute cure, freo to 7 suflerer who may send their 1,0, aud dross. We advise an liing & 1o Lo addres Prof, W, 1L F ¥. D, 4 Cedar 5 of Chinese medicines, truly bo callod tho king mediclne beeaus of - hig wonderful wkill and eures of all kind discases. Ha years i tic i of Ching 4 the setions of differont Chinoss odies. Ho has acquirad el knowledgo nat ook feal 1 hae ovar yeirs of Lid And GArnoss accomplish, Ohi- icines are 8upse ciune of thy Bpec men's private diseans 0000, 41T, NEFVOUSHERS, Chr all fomalewe sk treated by ire wuon. Piltle correspoudence. Tho doclor Lie s 0f Lestimoniils 14 conts stamps for )0k Of testim ontals and Guestion biauks, De Wo, 16th aud Callfornia strocts, Omahis be I free C. Goe RVOUSDISORDERS NGIH aud 10 the body. 1 will sond (s Curd ) any wufterer tho presorl ton thitt eured e of these troublos, Addross I WIIGHT, Music Dealer, Box 1260, Marvhal Michigun