Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, November 3, 1894, Page 12

THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SATURDAY, NOVEMBER RETARY. Washington Star. DU M. H. Havemyer In ““What Is Phil readin Mrs. Raymond tipped her head and looked Intently at her brother. But evidently her look was not satisfactory, for, after a few moments, during which he continued to stroke his mustache and gaze at the note in Sis hand, she sald: “What in the world | are you reading, Phil?’ “Mrs. Duane ac- cepts with pleasure Mrs, Raymond's kind invitation for the cvening of the 2ist.”” Mrs Raymond was more perplexed than ever. | What did her brother find o interesting in a perfectly proper and formal note of ac ceptance. She continued her china painting, with just the shadow of a line between her pretty eyebrows. Presently he came over nd sat down on the divan, mear her table. 1 should like to know the writer of that note, Minchen. It's an acceptance, so I'll #ee her tomorrow night.” A few moments later he sauntered out of the room, whistling softly. When the portier fell behind his tall figure Mildred Raymond | put down the cup she had been painting and Jeaned back with a decidedly troubled look on her pretty face. Phil was a subject of much anxlety to her at times. To be sure, she was considerably his junior and he had petted her all his life. She had scarcely been out a year when she became engaged to Jack Raymond, and, although he continued the petting process as begun by her brother and parents, Mrs. Raymond, while keeping | all the sweetness and daintiness of her girl- | hood, had developed into a very knowing| Jittle woman of the world, holding an un disputed sway among the upper ten, and hav fng, moreover, the desirable reputation of being exclus Phil often declared that they had changed places and that she was at least ten years his senior in the greatness of her wisdom. Her chief care was her brother. She plainly saw that he was an extremely eligible party, and worried her- melf extremely as to whom he should and Bhould not marry. As for Phil, he showed the utmost indiffcrence to ail such matters He had a comfortable income, some little talent for painting, a decided literary taste, was a fine lawyer, when he chose to practice, d a good all ‘round fellow. He had studied law at home, that Is to say, in New York city, and art {n_Paris for a couple of years, where he had learned little, but en- Joyed himself immensely; written several Totably clever stories and illustrated them with no mean show of talent. He had made two trips around the world; had spent some time in Indla and other remote corners of the earth, and at the age of 30 had settled down to his iaw practice, with an excellent partner. Scelety adored him, and,n a neslig nt Way, he liked soclety. He was courteous and attentive to all the falr sex, but it was said that he had never paid to any woman gerious attention, barring several flirtations during his collge days, which were, of course, desperate at the time. Just at present he was enjoying his holi- day with his sister in a pretty continental clty, where a large number of English and Amerlcans were settled. He had been here @ weck, but, try as she might, his sister had not been able to draw him any nearer the soclal whirl than a daily drive with her in the afterncon. Meantime she had sent out cards for a small reception, hoping to in- terest her brother in one of the American girls who were at C——. She had not in- vited Beatrice Duane because she wanted to, but because she had to. She was not all the woman for Phil, and here he was in- terested in her before he had met her, and such a thing with him meant more than it would have meant with most men. All over a simple note. “'What could he have found in that note to arouse his interest so?” In fagt, so deeply did it annoy her that ha thire been any way of decently doing so she would have put off her reception. But, then, as the wise little woman reflected, it would only put off the evil day and whet his curiosity. The reception was over. It had been a success, of course. Mrs. Raymond's affairs always were. Her rooms had been full, but not crowded; there had been a goodly sprink- Hng of ceicbrities; the house had never Jooked lovelier; the supper was perfect, and everything had gone smoothly. Yet, as she threw herself back among the soft cushions in her boudoir, her pretty eyes looked as though they might be the reservolr of vexatious tears, "It was too annoying, Jack. He paid her more attention, that 1 have ever scen him pay to any on: woman in my life. And Jack, who at first had been inciined to laugh at his wife's fears, stroked his fair mustache and looked thoughtful During the following weeks matters aid not improve. Chance favored Phil, for wher- ever he went, and he went out a great deal now, he met the charming widow. Meanwhile Beatrice Duane, who, in addi tion to her undeniable beauty, possessed a thorough knowledge of men, made, what Mrs. Raymond considered Phil's downward path, an easy one, and he fell or rather walked, straight into the snares spread for him. He was not as wildly devoted as th young subalterns who followed in her train, but he permitted himself to be whirled along in her victoria occasionaliy, and al- ways danced and talked with her wh:rever | he met her. It keemed o please him better, however, to stand in some inconspicuous plac:, where he had a good view of her face and watched her closely. And whenever he watched her in this way his sister, who watched him quite as closely, noticed that his expression was one of deep study and slight perplexity rather than deep admira- tion or wild jealousy Mrs. Duane lived in an artistic little villa on the outskirts of the town, and her 5 o'¢lock tea table was usually thronged with her young admirers, It was a pet trick of hers to suggest to some favored individual that he should come early, and then to b at home to no one else. Now, these little tete- tetes wers dangerous to more hardened men than the gay subalterns, for Beatrice Duane, In a perfect tea gown, lying back in a deep chair, covered with whit: fur, was a beautiful picture of luxury, and her manner of conversing on such cccasions was undoubt- edly fascinating. Philip had found himself party to these tete-a-tet:s on several occa- Blons, but had not yet been brought to the point of sending her flowers, books or verses, or paying her any of those pronounc:d atten. tions with which the young officers over whelned her. Lent was approaching rapidly, and the Whirl of festivity, like a whirlpool, became faster and faster as it neared the vortex down which it must plun It was Ash Wednesday morning, and Phil Reddington lounged against the mantel o) his sister’s boudoir, in the most aftractive attitude. “How handsome he looks; not a older than when he graduated.” His sister was standing before him, drawing on her gloves, and as she looked at him there was a smile of genuine approval in her eyes 8he had not looked at him with that smile for some time. He smiled back almost shyly, and then said slowly: “Minchen, 1 am not a school girl, and therefore I do not pretend to read character by handwriting. but, yet, there is somcthing about that note of Mrs. Duane's that intcrests me strangely, and I should like to see the writer “It seems to me that you have voting & considerable amount of time to eeing .the person who wrote it.” She drew herself up and spoke with som: asperity. Phiil surveyed her with evident amusement “1 don't like you in that attitude, it's not becoming, and, besides'—more gravely—'1 am convinced that Mrs. Duane didn't write that note.” “Then may 1 ask"—the ob. jectionable pose was more intense than be fore—"why, if you are not Interested, do you cultivate her soclety to such an extent?' “That note came from her, and if she did not write it herself, and I am sure she didn't she knows who did. I've tried several times to make her write a few lines, and suc- ceoded; but she always wrote with a foun taln pen, and all the people who use those things write alike. Yes, I am quite certain that a woman of her caliber would not write Mke this, and I am anxious to see it this fanciful theory of mine works out.” The unbecoming pose was laid aside and Mrs. Raymond's face brightened visibly 8ho read the note over her brother's shoul- der, The letters were long and slender, firm and delicate, and gave the Impression that quickly and easily. @ very-pretty hand, but I can't imagine who wrote It unless she did, and iU's scented with that peculiar oriental perfume she al- ways uses, and Phil, dear, she's a very dan- gerous woman, so do be carefu!! One_morning during the second week in Lent Phil accompanied his sister to market His artistic nature was greatly gratified by the quaint pictures he found, and he was making a sketch of an old flower woman when his sister cried out, ‘0, Phil, do lcok! been de- | admiration. | definable | she | servant There are those lovely mountain primroses: iha fiat I've seen this year il looked, but he saw somethiug besides the great ‘bunch of pele yellow flowers—a slender, black clad figure and a pale, delicate face. t persons would not have called ber rh, but he stoed lovkiug at her T pldly disappearing figure untl it vanished | around the corner. | “Aren’t they perfect? Do you think my copy that hangs in the boudolr is good?" | To which her brother Irrelevantly replied: | “That girl might have written it.” | “I didn’t notice the girl, but now that I | know these flowers are in town 1 shan't rest until 1 have some."” ‘ At luncheon Mrs, Raymond snnounced that | her search had been fruitless. In a remote corner she had found a flower woman who | had brought some primroses to market that very morning, but her young lady—a young lady who came very often—had bought them, every one. That afternoon when Duanc's parlor he felt a glow of artistic The dark paneling, lit up by the flames from the burning logs, threw into bold yet delicate relief the figure of a woman, half reclining in a low chair. Her head, crowned with soft black coils and curls, was pillowed on yellow satin cushions. Her gown was the palest yellow, and her full, rounded arm, the elbow luxuriously buried in a deep cushion, showed the full | beauty of its magnificent curves as she | raised a full, swelling g:ld tinted cup to her | lips. The young subalterns gazed at her spellbound, and Phil stood motionless on | the threshold. She was indeed a dangerous | | Phil came into Mrs. woman “Ah, Mr. Reddington.” She moved for- ward to meet him, here was no trace of | the orlental perfume, but a faint, scarcely | breath of 'the spring. On her breast was a great cluster of mountain prim- | res The burden of the conversation fell to the | young officers that afternoon. Phil had | Beated himselt at a little distance from his fair hostess, and was, as regarding her with that Keen bui unbtrusive scrutiny which 0 much puzzled her and piqued her curfos'ty. Today the studious expression on his face wes a trifle deeper than before. Here | In the house from which the note had come, | pinned on the gown of its ostensible author, | was a cluster Jf mountain primroses. He | had seen a bunch of them before that day, | and his sister assured him that there \wch 10 others in town. That bunch was in the | hands of a girl who, it seemed to him might embody the character he ascribed to the writer cf Mrs. Duane's note, In a sunny corner near the quaint market | house of D——, on @ certain misty morning | bruary, the old peasant, Mere Maria, | as she was popularly called, was dozing be- hind her display of simple wares, when she | was awakened by the vcice of her young | lady. It too': her some time to tell in her | quaint way how, on the last market day, another lady had come, a very beautiful ady, who had descended from a carriage with liveried servants and prancing horses. Sho had asked for primroses, but she had t0ld her that her own mademoiselle had taken them, every one, but today she had | enough for 21l All this time there was a handsome young | man on the other side of the street in the shadow of a projecting doorway, who seemed to be making a sketch of old Maria. For the next few weeks this picture was re- peated, except that the young artist had made friends with the old peasant woman and gained her permission to sketch her from a nearer peint. It was Easter morning. lish chapel was filled to its greatest ca- pacity, for many of the congregation who had drifted into the foreign mode of keep- ing the Sabbath and rarely came (o the 11 y'clock service turned ow ster. Some came from mere f:shicn's sake; some from strength of assocla ame with The little Eng- tion. The last class was lirge enough spread throughout the church a atmosphere. The white robed led in singing a triy nt solemn confessi-nal was said, and then the clezr boys' voices burst forth again,"Christ, Our Passover, Is Sacrificed for Us” The chorus dies away, ‘“through Jesus Christ, our Lcrd,” a few chords on the organ, and then a single volce soars up, as a bird set free, clear, pure, calm and triumphant, “Christ Is risen from the dead and beco the first fruits of them that slept.” viice was not heard again throughout the servic When the congregation poured forth, after the service, the one question that very one usked every one else was: “Wh. is the new soprano?’" By the next afternoon it was whispered around that the gruff old choirmaster had unearthed, from some ob- scure cofner, a nightingale, and given her that one tiny solo in the Easter music to introduce her and to whet the public curi- osity. By {he end of the week the rumor had fully materialized. The s nger was a young American girl, an orphan, who was employed as Mrs. Duane's secretary. It was positively asserted that she would no longer sing in the choir. The reason for this was not difficult to find. Hitherto Mrs, Raymond had gathered around her all the literary lights and fine musiclans that the little town afforded. This gave a distinctive air to her receptio Beatrics Duane valnly envied. Now at last had the upper hand. The wonderfu soprano was in her possession and should be heard only in her drawing room. Margaret Halford’s place as Mrs. Duane’s secretary had nol been any easy one. At the time of her engagement she had been told that she would be expected to do what- ever was required of her, and so it hap- pened that she had grown accustomed to carn her small salary by the performance manifold and miscellaneous duties and to be surprised at nothing. She had her books, however, and, thanks to the friendship of the English minister's wife, a few rare op- portunities to practice her beloved music in & congenial atmosphere. The morning of Easter Monday she had been summoned to Mrs. Duane’s boudoir and informed by that lady that she would no longer be permitted to sing at church, but would hold herself in readiness and prepare suitable songs to sing n the drawing room whenever she should be called upon to do so, The girl listened in silence, but a faint flush spread over her face. 'This was worse than she had ex- pected. — Although Mrs. Duane had always inspired her with an intense aversion, as long 1§ their relations had been purely Husiness ones this had been tolerable. “To come under her control in a social way, to be made to associate with that throng of young officers and dilletante—" The flush on her check died, leaving her deadly pale. The next sentence came as a rellef. “Of course, you understand that you do not come into the drawing room i any soclal capacity whatever. You will come when you are sent for, take your place at the plano and lcave the room after you have finished.” A fortnight had’ passed since Margaret had made her debut at Mrs, Duane's “after- noons.” She was a _great success. Array in a perfectly plain black dress, white and thin, she came and ng after song untii dismissed by a haughty gesture from her mistress. The world applaud:d the song, but paid little attention to the singer. To b sure, at her first appearance, Phil Reddin ton has asked aboat her, and his hostess replied that she was a poor girl of common extraction who filled the place of an upper In general, however, her personality was a matter of indifferepge to her audience. On this particular aftrnoon she was paler than ever, for her additional duties were telling on her strength. The score of a new song was before her. The maid had brought it to her room with the message that she was to lcarn It as soon as possible, and Marie added the information that onc of the foreign gentlemen had brought it. Her accon panist played the prelude, and as she sang the opening lines “Oh, promise me that Will bear our lov reverential choristers hymn; the somie day you and I together to some sky She raised her eyes, and encountered at the far end of the room a pair of dark blue yes fixed Intently upon her's. A thrill passcd through her. Those eyes were strangely familiar. “Where we may new, find those grew; Those first sweet violcts of early spring” Again some compelling force made her raise her eyes. A shudder passed through her whole frame; she trembled violently; her lips refused to move; the paper fell from her hands. She left the room quickly and the accompanist followed her. Mrs. Duane rang the bell and directed the footman to send her maid to Miss Haltord. For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence, then an apology on the part of the hostess “A chill that would soon pass off.”" ““The girl was not very strong' She regretted the accident and then the usual flow of con versation. | Meanwhile Margaret was pacing the floor of her room, shuddering and burning by turns. What was this that was leaping through her veins? Why did her thoughts come so quick and fast? Was she goiug crazy? Why, when she sung that song, had she thought of the young artist, who was paiuting the old flower woman at the mark She had looked up then and he was look- Ing straight at her. What made her tremble #0? Sha kad thought of him s0 many be alone and faith re- And bowers where those flowers —> A NEW LOT OF OVERCOATS==- = If you have bought your Winter Overcoat we are sorry for you—for we are going to sell Overcoats to- morrow—We are going to sell Overcoats at such prices as you nor dealers outside of ourcorner have ever hzard of—We will save you enough money on some of them to buy a suit of clothes with—But don’t miss this Overcoat sale tomorrow of all things you d Men's Overcoats--Real Biue Chinchilla with fancy worsted linings, warm and durable, SAISIPHICE i oL o4 s worth g5.00. Fine Shetland and. Frieze Storm Ulsters, three grades--go in this sale at Fine Kersey Overcoats in five shades, ele- gantly trimmed, blues, blacks and browns ==your choice in this sales..svoues.o.. Men’s Overcoats--B'ue and black, beavers, cut medium long; these gar- ments are dressy and need no guaranty as to their wearing qualities, staple as sugar. worth g15.00--sale price......, . The M. plain 2, 5 Fine Beaver Overcoats, in single or or oxfords — your double breasted, blues, blacks browns, tans and choice at this sale......... Overcoats, just the thing for stout people, in beavers, this sale at....... Extra size Qvercoats, from 44 to 50—-- in two shades, blues and blacks, kerseys, chinchillas and worsted:s go in this sale at...... short anl kerseys and chinchillas, sizes 37 to 46, go-in $10.00 $12.70 $12.50 “ine kersey and beaver Overcoats, the best made in these fabrics, wool lin- ing, silk yoke, 50 inches long, in loose or tight fitting, single or double breasted, 1n blues and blacks, sizes 34 to 42, at this sale anly.............. The pick of over 350 suits from some of the finest all wool cheviot sacks made will be in one lot tomorrow to stir up the business at less than half former price... 0 Suecessors to Columbia Clothing Co., 18th and Farnam Streets. $16.00 Clothing Co, times, and it was at these times that she felt the wretchedness of her peeition. What did she care? Why, at such times, did she long to be back In her own nome and not in this false and menial position? What did | it all mean? She paced up and down until worn in mind and body, she threw herself on her bed, It was quite late when Marie knocked at her door, and, receiving no answer, came in. “La panore enfant’ she murmured, layin her hand gently on Margaret's forehead. At the first touch the girl opened her eyes. Mrs. Duane had sent for her. She arose with a premonition of coming evil; yet it was with a feeling of calmness and strength that she entered the boudoir. “You sent for me, [ believe.” Then the mistress turned If Phil Reddington had luxurated his ar- tistic soul and strewn his note book with sketches of an eastern beauty reclining on a divan against a background of pale yellow, and a fair, saint like madonna in black, with a hunch of primroses clasped to her breast, he would have gone mad with artistic feryor could he hi en these two women stand- ing face to face. Beatrice Duane, in her trailing gown of yellow satin, cut low to show her perfect arms and neck, her dark hair disordered, her eyes flashing as sh hurled abuse to the slender girl who stood before her, white as marble in her sever: black gown, her hair shining like a halo about her head, and on her face an expres- sion indescribable in its loftiness, its cold- ness, its sweetness and dignity, Her clear eyes were fixed upon her mistress, but she did not speak a word, Finally, her strength spent, Beatrice pointed to the table and said in the haughty tone that her secretary knew so well: “There is your ticket to Dusseldorf. You have what little money will be necessary to take you there. You wiil not, of course, after this disgraceful performance expect to receive the part of your salary due you. You will leave the house immediately.'” Back to Dusseldorf! As well there as anywhere else, for she had no friends, but it was here that her mother had died, and here that she met the English clergy- man and his wif: who had become her fast friends, and who, when her little store of money was exhausted, had procured for her a position as Mrs. Duane's secretary. These two were the only friends she had. She could g0 to them for tonight, at least, and they would advise her what to do next. th trembling hands she packed her mea- | wardrobe, and telling Marie she would send for it in the morning, she drew her long, dark cloak around her and left the house. r The wind had risen, and before she had | gone many steps the rain began to fall in | torrents. But a wild fear had taken posses- sion of the girl, and she ran on with throb- bing brain and trembling limb: Past the lawns and villas; down into the morz thickly | settled part of the town, until she reached the quiet street ca which the English ree- | tory stood. The cathedral clock was chim ing 12, but the light in the minister's study was still burning. She struggled up the | steps, but her strength was exhausted, She reached out for the knocker, but the door was opencd from within, and she fell uncon- scious at the feet of Philip Reddington When Philip woke naxt morning and began to review the events of the preceding day he began to think that he had been dreaming. But no, it was all real, for here was the note that the minister's’ wife had promised to send him, saying that Margaret seemed stronger, but was not fully conscious yet. | He tried to think the n out clearly | atter and to determine on his future courss: of ac- tion, but gave it up as a hopeless task in | his present state of mind. Of two things he | was certain; that the full measure of his wrath and indignation was Kindled against | Beatrice Duane, and that Margaret Halford had taken possession of his heart. He found himself saying over and over again | that he would never give her up, never. His sister was in the pretty breakfast room, walting to pour his coffee for him, and to her he madc his confession. How he had felt strongly aitached to the girl the first time he had se:n her in the marke place; how the sketch he had made of old Maria had been only an excuse to see her. Each time he saw her at market or in Mrs Duane’'s drawing room she had seemed more and more lovely. He had asked his hos. tess for an introduction and had been re fused, almost brusquely. Then he had heard some one sing "Promise Me,” and had longed to hear her sing it, and so had brought it to | Mrs. Duane. When he heard her volce he had forgotten everything else, and before Le left that evening he had openly declared to Mrs. Duane that he was pecullarly inter- ested In her mecretary. She had flatly re- | fused to introduce him, for once had lost control of herselt and showed plainly ler extreme Irritation. It was quite late when he left the villa and went to see the rector on some imperative business. Here he had learned Margaret's history, Her fat the youngest son of a lstinguished New Eungland famlly, and | new world, but he only ele jand | w while Swedish girl—an udying music abroad had crphan, parish and well nigh friendless. ! family heard of this they cast him off. some years h a wanderthg dife out by help of made no friends little onship; One ala, pan ticen 19 years the day, the on a his ‘musical but lived the wife too happy In the d daughter to care husba small talent: for other proud and when his musician was home dead, killed by a rumaway team. Tho widow finally, persu hoped 'that she . went 0 a weden. Here after her death met Margaret, her a position The idea of drooped from would reviy little she that and as sec her servimg M that day, daughter, in her the was Mrs. by her in It and had town Qied, Mr. later rried a udent on the When his | Fer | with his wife and child, led | income - eked They to themselves, of her husbind com- re- anghter was brought and who ative south hortly Stanly obtained for etary to Mrs. Duane. was Duane unbearable, and before he had left the e Phil ha should be soon as possible, at work and d made Mrs. introduced. but rarely Stahly pr to Miss of ctory nise that Halford he as this, she added, would be difficult to manage, as she was kept hard hed auy leisure. fe had sat with the rector and his wife talking of Margaret until the bell rang 12. he had opened th of rain had self had fallen rushed insensible in, and at Margaret his feet, When strest door a great gust her- [ long hair locsened and drenched by the r her face stopped, expre Mrs, mingled wise little pale and patience, and and there sion on his face. Raymond had heard his story consternation and woman that advised her brother to possess haggard, was a set, Here sympathy, r n, Phil determined with and she was, she soul she herselt stepped into her carriage and drove up to the English rectory. From Mrs. Stanly Phil's sister heard Mar- garet's history ag: n. It lost nothing in the telling, for the rector's young wife was enthusiastic in her admiration of Margaret, and her face flushed and paled and tears stood in her eyes as she told the story of the girl's sad Ife. When Mrs. Raymond had met her brother on her return home it was with outstretched hands, smilng lips and t spent the Stanlys There was another m in the person of Mrs ered who Du The Raymonds Sweden and and it was wh the same person capacity for Mrs. beli amid t Raymonds' home, had grown and being seemed rounded glow, her slend fine proporticn longer, but former_exp and uplifted aspect and clear as ever, volume. nd er And life paid ha it the girl rgaret cacy forbade her t and so she tur correspondence rest her aughter. of position ed the exi changed retained sion to give her an unworldly » was as pure er and richer in her plain black Bowns. was a beauty. the household, figure her sad but dee She had laid aside dress for lighter and People began to say that she were was entirely different her a generous had her own way would not have given a stroke of work to do, arful eyes the summer their guests. iber of the househald about had that she rved in a But those surroundings girl's starved nded until The pale with a had filled eyes were enough of flushed just of Her voi more artistic not the Mrs, and ecould same, salary, but wound over 10 her the was that an For elder Raymond's secreta was like who d seen her in both places found it hard to this report, for during the summer, eongenial the nature her whole cheeks dellcate out sad th to no ir her Raymond deli- the girl's pride formal | the In the early autumn Phil sailed for New York, but in the early spring he returned aster Monday the English church was scene t few of a were quiet bidden. wedding The which newspaper a published in behalf of the foreign residents devoted considerable spaes to describing it “One caslon of the being the prettiest touch features of color of the s introduced | by masses of mountalp Primroses among the floral by the bride. It were used to com cldent connected the happy couple. eral liniments, with decorations and %he bouquet is said that these emarate the a Mrs. 8. A. Kell of Pomona, bad luck to sprain her amkle. she says, I tried ‘but was not until I used Chumberlain‘s Pain Balm, re ending it a This medicine matism, lame iedy cured me andiI take pleasure nd muscular For sale by druggists. e -— Caught & ar. carried flowers romantic in of engagement 8¢ ur Cal., had the | 1 That n rec nd testitying to its efMicacy.’ also of great valuc back, paius in the chest risy and all deep-seate for rheu- pleu pains. They were standing on the street corner, waiting for a car, says the Boston Budget She delighted in_ proclaiming the glories of this She was American, e e e he was English et e 0 t o b t P b o i fruits ye [ pure juice of the grapes naturally fermented i | leaned over the balustrade some moments. strained voice of the ed his beastly | aches. same boilled hen egg and cracking the shell, a section of it, with the white adhering to it from the yellow, leaving the sphere nestled in_the remaining portion of the The petrified egg what the freak js—we! spirit nose and answered every remark with that irritating phrase, While they were waiting a pair of bicy- clers, a man woman r'Aw!” erbockers The girl Ic he m Yes; but wo call ‘em M meri his know be rude to abruptly, so she simply said do you call a or_plural? The treating bicy applied to me; singular."” Oregon bles. uzzle for He Quite a igar stand ashville oft. o throw it, tracted his attention, a sharp shell cracked and three pleces shell=d off, re- vealing about object nestled away in the r rock and blow o the shell. pinkish hue, and s very granular in its com- position, something like sandstone thing a person would think of on beholding would be the yellow more he looked the more thoroughly he would become conyinced that that was what it was. The concave portion of the broken shell fits t hack perfectl The shell's exterior s also granular, though uniform. thick perfectly of an inch nular le g sembling very phosphate roc roken edges xterior_shell g8 shell. In fact, as and is about perhaps larger. est and wonderment among those who see it. “While dow ers, of Chamberla rhoea Remedy I bought a bottle. loses of It co a champlon of that remedy for all and bowel co gists, Chicago Tri ng through Artless Girl I think it he shal And the hrough the n agony. No Ixtra foreign Dry ~ Chicago Tri n the dark {ster, suppos Bess was “Well There It was brol “She has. Oregon Kid: N was dre. an the woman in bloome! Englishman Kidr Trial size, - A PETRIFI curiosity American, a petrified egg, creation cards and spades in the art of egg manufacture. shape, with both ends very smoothly clipped A farmer picked it up in a field one day and started near the entire effect that vn In the state some time ago,” says Mr. W. Chal- editor of the Chico (Cal.) had an attack of dysentery. Do you suppos ghosts ever—ever frequent apple trees Disagreeable night winds moaned and shricked tree tops Hke a lost soul walling Trial size, 26 cents. In the old country,” etc. and woman, wheeled by. The d decidedly “up to date.” Englishman remarked. “Knick- oked up in surprise. ra?'’ “Do you in the old co knickerbockers. ca hardly knew how to answer 1 manner. he felt it would change the conversation too 3y the way, ckers singular itry, ye know, pair of Knicker glanced “Plural,” ut in the case after the he sald, of wi re- as en— ders ——— ey Tea cures all kidney trou- cents. All druggists. ED EGG. lentists Eo Farm. is on exhibition at the of Dawson & Burch, says the It the curlosity is not then nature can give the fowl nd on a Tenncssee The freak is of perfect oval living on Paradise Ridge when its unusual weight at Stooping, he picked up the peculiar object a middle. The exterior struck its Many old so half of a perfectly rounded aining pertion sphere is of a suceess. Av army of afilicted human Sursuparilla and Celery. A renod: in the home Is o guaraitee of the ki It Is compounded on strictly busin but Is an up to date y und always The only reiedy t same,_time. Testimonials—tho strongest kind We simply ask a1f it does not do for you Just what v 15 re TThis is fair, Is it not? What morc can_you as #1,00 per bottle, or 6 bottles for $5.00. that is This under The first ure of an egg, and the y about the interior sphere. It is about one-quarter and immediately beneath exterlor is of a drab color, re- much In composition lava or = ' ck. A close inspection of the of the shell shows a very thin of about the thickness of an = SEARLES & SEARLES SPECIALISTS. produced taking the hard part obtained by a shell for that is undoubtedly ighs about half a pound of a large goose egg, using no little inter- the siz It 1s Nervous Private AND Special Diseases il d e the southwestern part of Enterprise, Having heard Cholera and Diar- A couple of ow I am stomach For sale by drug- in's Colic, mpletely cured me. Treatmenthy Mail, Catarrh, all di Throat. Chest,Stomach, Liver,Blood Skin and Kidney diseases, Lost —Manhood and all Private Dis= eases of Men, Call on or address, 1413 Farnam Streas Dr. Searles & Searles, "o IA NG fimold’s Bmmn—flfierg. B For sale by al! druggsts, Omaha. CUP IDEHE" effect: mplaints.” k tiroke Down. “Hear the wind moan- orchard!” exclaimed the It sounds like some unhappy Mr. Hankinson, that bune t not at all unlikely,’ Young Man. 1 gnome.’ " responded By their fplondid oprativeagent for Nervous Hoaduche, Hrain Exhaustion, 8leepiessncs pocial or 150 1o ok matiam, Gout, Kidusy Disorders, Acid ) bepsia, ' Antweinlu. Antidots foF Aloobil A other cxcoes. . 2 and 60 ¢e - Horvoacent. - substance ent perial Champagn Cook’s It's the s into © Doubt About It. bune: He ned hallway g the young faint rustle the elder man had gone, and called out you landed him?" sepulchral silence ring a below le, have a deep, Curer the eelts use, e ems jons, impotency val cocele and consii- atlon. One dollar a ox, six for $5. For sal¢ by THE GOOD- MAN ° DRUG CO. Omaba, Neb. tor ken by the hesitating, young man con- - ney Tea cures nervous bead. All druggista, wors will recognize thoe above as a who was never found wanting in his hour of trial. y are already rece 1y Alth of the f s principles. Was not discovered by the anclents purifies the blood aud acts directly upon the nerves I your druggist cannc Consultation Fres | s of the nose, | GET OUT OF THE RUT. lcture of a tried and true rriend, oo uarantes o HIs presonce in battle was o i 8 Logans zing a truo frien teod to cure and never fails. Its prosence uily. at one and the more than verifies our statement uto try Logan's Sarsapariils and Celory. fotlow dire sented fe wiil do, you will ge > recommend ctlons clogely, your money back ations wnd” our guarantee. stsupply you, write LOGAN'’S SARSAPRILLA and CELERY CO., OMAHA, NEB. CHOCOLAT ‘ On a Cold Morning betore golng ont, nothing so Invigorating s a Good Hot Cup of tho deliclous flavored | [Vanilla Chocolate, . | oo am(. Tho reason you do not ke to drink chos 5 hecaiise you never tried o good on Perhaps you never got any. Learn how tp pre-| Mypare a good Gup of chocolate In buylug| Menier, Address “ 59 Wabash Ave., CHICAGO, BAILEY, Dentist, Paxton Block, 16tb aud Farnam Painless Extraction of Teeth-Painless Filling Full set teeth #3.00. Siive fllings $1.00. Pare Guidl #2.00. Gold Crowns .00 por 100th 80d 88 achment Telephone 1083, Lady Attendant. German Spokea USE DR. BAILEY'S TOOTH POWDER.