Pittston Gazette

              l Oidest fewsoaoer in the ttvommy Valley PITTSTON, LUZERNE CO., PA., FRIDAY, MAY & 18'JI. A Weedy Local and hamilv Journal 1* He took a slip of blue paper from his bosom and read it dver. "Forty thousand dollars from Ginnes and Hoyle for my claim. Raj's schoolin' is douo and his prospects are good. Thank God I ve done well by the kid. An' he's twenty- "It's been mighty hard sometimes, (or I'm a selfish brute nat'rally." "You selfish! I know you too well to believe it." lands, Hark lay under the tamaracks where the shadows were blackest, faco down upon the earth, wrestling with that anguish which no soul can feel but once, and which changes, when once endured, the aspect of the world. sat on a rude bcnch outside the door in an attitude of apathetic weariness. Gaines was with Sandy. "Gentleman Gaines" he was called in the camp. Through all Sandy's sickness Gaines had been a frequent visitor. He was a young mining engineer, and Sandy found a solid pleasure in his companionship, and, now that George was gone, looked eagerly for his daily visit. was unobserved, lie placed the case place, in her father's chair, sat a figure. She sank into a seat, gazing with dilated eyes. The figure rose and with outstretched arms approached her. The Story Told Anew. "You must lose a good many dollars a fear by that man," was remarked to a Woodward avenue grocer as a citizen went out after "picking"' at grapes, fig^( apples and other things. "Well, 1 dunno." "Is he a good customer?" "No; a very poor one." "Then all he eats is dead loss?" "Not altogether. There are offsets.* "How?" Not Much Ahead. "I take a great deal of credit to my*slf»" said the father, "for the way Johnny lias got on in the world. I have supervised his studies, looked after his amusements, assisted him in his choice of a profession, and given him finanHft) help whenever he has been in a tight place. Whatever success he has in life he owe3 to me." Locating the Responsibility. In the dusk and down the lane Two walked hand in hand together; Blew the wind and fell the rain. "After all, though, I was father, mother and brother to Ray till he was fifteen; then I came out west to make ny fortune. You see, I meant Ray to have schoolin' and be a gentleman."-. "Little 'tin," said a familiar voice, "I'm sorry for ye from my heart. I heard about, it in the town, my poor Barb." Little heeded they the weather. Cold March winds might storm about. Warmth within mocked cold without. Unit the road been paved with gold. There is something sad and haunting about a deserted human habitation, and when that dwelling place has been home to us, it possesses for us the same pathetic meaning which brings the tears to our eyes when we look at the cold clay of a dearly loved friend. In parting from a spot which for months or years has been a refuge from the cares of the world, our home, we picture it in solitude; the spring touching with her vivifying breath the trees and shrubs which havo shadowed us from the heats of summer noons; the glory of moonlight nights; the rush and roar of winter tempests, and nature seems by her changelessness to mock the mutatiops of human life. It was he, George, the only one in all the world who could comfort the girl in her grief They had never seen a shimmer; Had the stars left heaven's high fold, "That was ten years ago?" Night to them had grown no dimmer. Earth, unto its widest hem. Consisted of four feet for them. "Yes, an' ten years is a long time, lie's a man growed now, is Itay, twenty-five years old; an' a fine man, too, Barb. 8eehere!" lie drew from an inner pocket a cabinet photograph carefully trapped in a piece of an old newspaper an% handed it to Barb. As Barb listened to the murmur of Gaines' voice, she fell into a painful reverie, in which the past, the present and the unknown future were mingled. So deep was her abstraction that she took no heed of time, and did not notice that Gaines had seated himself beside her. She looked at him with some surprise as he gently took her hand in his, and'heblushcd like a schoolgirl under her gaze. He was a handsome, manly young fellow of three and twenty, who had come to Las Cheritas in company with Sandy and Capt. George, when the excitement over the newly-discovered mines was at its height. She stared at liim as If he were an "He is not very robust, is he?" inquired a friend. "Is—can it be—you?" she murmured. "Indeed it is," he said, grasping her hand heartily. apparition "Well, all the boys are onto him. In the last year we stole three umbrellas and two pairs of gloves from him, and you see he has gone out and left a chicken in that parcel, which we will at once proceed to cabbage. If he thinks he is getting ahead of us that's all right."— Detroit Free Press. "No; he is puny, little, insignificant looking, and not at all strong. I have done my duty by that boy," said the father majestically, "but physically"— and he spoke with much severity as he located the responsibility for the young man s bodily infirmities—"physically, sir, he is just as the Lord made him."— Chicago Tribune. Flush and glow with sudden pleasure? What could cause the woman's heart What said he to make her start, Then to beat a faster measure? Why did eyelids prone to rise Ui le the light of glowing eyes? "But where is she—your—your wife?" "I have no wife. Barb; I have had trouble, too, my girl." She took it and saw by the now clear moonlight a handsome, effeminate face, with dark eyes like George's own. Twas the story told anew. Old, yet never antiquated; Just the .same words—just a few— 11 She is not—dead?" gasped Barb, sinking back into her chair. "A fine man, too," she echoed, mechanically, as she handed the photograph back. Just Ihe case so often stated- Just the same in every wise As ouu« told in Paradise. George drew his own chair to Barb'a side. He saw that 6he was suffering under a mental straiu that might prove disastrous if her minci were allowed to dwell upon her grief, llis resolution was quickly made; he wov.ld tell her Caught. —New York World. * Capt. George gave the picture a long, loving look, then again wrapping it as before, replaced it in his pocket, i "I've done right by the kid, If I do ' say It. Why, d'ye know he's a college graduate. Think of that! It cost a heap o' money, a sight o' diggin' and peckin' away at these old mountains," and ho struck the ground with his open band, "but I got £ together somehow. Do ye remember last winter, Barb?" "Can I ever forget it?" answered the girl, with a shudder. "Can I forget j how the snow fell here in the mountains j till the trail was blocked for days and weeks; how the supplies gave out and death stared us in the face, and through it all you were our stay and  always cheerful an' never complainin* or despairin'? Yes, George, I will remember it as long as I live, if I live a years." " ' i »vas pretty rough, sure. I sent all my dust to R:i". careless too, for I didn't k- 'p ono-- D. on hand to lay in g- -45 a-il il D. if it h ida't been for Our Pictorial P'hraae. V Passing Face. 1 'THEY SHALL BOTH DIE." Twas but a moment. Long enough to feel In the course of ten toilsome years Just past, Capt. George had sometimes thought of himself as a captive, and yearned to break away from the prison of mountain walls, and the life he led there. But now In the hour of parting from the familiar scene, for some reason, inexplicable to himself, his regTet far outweighed the joy of his anticipations of the future. "Barb," said he. with your father." "I've been talking containing the watch for Ray upon the table with the other wedding presents. The pearl necklace, with the mocking "Fidelis" upon the clasp, was meant for his dear Agnes. He can ne*er bestow that upon his brother's wife. He took a slip of blue paper from his pocket, his check from Ginnes and Hoyle, and wrote his name upon the back. Then he tore a leaf from his note book, and wrote, what—angry threats and denunciation?The grateful presence of her quiet grace. And at her beauty's shrine a moment kneel To mark the sweetness of her gentle face. "Yes," she said, with an inquiring intonation, gazing at the hand which he still held, but making no attempt to withdraw it. his own story. She would see by thai illustration that death is a light sorrow con pared to others that must be endvred by the human race. To catph a glance from out her downcast eyes. A fleeting light of violet, more rare Thau all the colors of the summer skies. That but a moment lingered fluttering there. "IIKLLO! BAKU, YOU AKE OUT ,LATK." five come this month. I'll go back to the states an' marry Agnes, an' settle iown on the farm." "She is dead to me. Barb, and it was Uay, my own brother, that I have loved and cared for all his life, that took her from me." "He can't last long, not more than a couple of weeks at most." A moment. Then she vanished; yet to stay Within my memory as some distant strain Of music, rislag slowly, dies away. But linger* yet tfhen all is still again; The sound of approaching hoofs disturbed his reverie, and as he stooped to gather up his tools a girl of seventeen, riding astride a ragged clay-colored caynse, came in She would have been a ludicrous spectacle to eyes accustomed to the conventional equestrienne; but to Capt. George, who approached her with a hearty greeting, there was nothing Improper in her mode of ri "ir.g or in her dress, which conr\ of a cC"r,"', blue 1-Vmsc, end a Barb drew her hand sharply out of his clasp, but spoke no word. Gaines repossessed himself of it, and with a gentle force compelled her to look at him. Then lie told her of his long journey, his eager joy at sight of the old familiar village, of the marriage at which he was an unbidden guest, his self-struggle and self-conquest; told her how he had lain all night upon his mother's grave wrestling and praying, and finally how he had come back, beggared in hope, fortune and love, to live and die in the shadow of his bitter disappointment.He lingered In his cabin, putting everything in scrupulous order, and then, at the last moment, a happy thought struck him. lie would not sell the cabin, as he had before intended; it should remain as it was, and some day he wovHd bring Agnes here, and she should bcc how and where a miner lives. This idea made the wrench of parting from the old life easier, and when at last there was no further excuse for delay, he mounted his cay use rode slowly down the mountain side, after rolling down the paper shade before the little window and locking the door. Or as it dream that flits across the mind VThvn cara L= bound by all-forgetting sleep Too £.-)«n will \uuish, but yet leave behind A goutle sweet ness that the senses keep. "Barb, my poor stricken Barb, I suffer with you in your sorrow," he said, "for I love you. Dear, do you understand what I mean when I say that?" Ah, no. "I have worked for ten years to give this to you and Agnes. It is worth nothing to me now, take it, and may God forgive you both for the love and trust you have crucified, forgive you, as I forgive." He placed them upon the table, and then with the sound of the laughter and congratulations in his ears, he went out into the night-enwrapped chur;hyard where his mother slept, and as Barb had lain, face down amid the tamaracks, so prone upon the earth, upon his mother's grave, Capt. George lay till morning, and before the bride and groom had found the tokens of his magnanimity, and later the loaded pistol with his name upon the handle in the shrubbery, and knew the danger which had hovered over them, he was speeding back westward to the far cabin upon the slope overlooking Cheritas. If ff tjhaJ been but kinder. Who can tell Our (m; .is had been the same, and hand In hr.uii A WELL POSTED AFRICAN TRAVELER. —'Tesas Sittings. "Do I understand what love is?" she answered in a tone of anguish. "Oh, yes, I understand." hail wandered o'er the fell '.(onk'rof the unknown land? "Hi! Somebody bring a light! I've stuck my toe in thia blamed trap, and there's a rat at the other end biting it like thunder."—Munsey's Weekly. L' ;xm the sea moment seen. i i-Uocriljr— l iiiDutnce stretcb s':irt rf s I 1 rf»richia.T a "Then listen, my darling," he continued; "I have talked with Sandy, and he told me I speak to you. It would soothe your father's last hours to know that your future is safe. Will you marry me, Barb?" When h«5 had done. Barb, who had shed no tears when her own heart was breaking, who had stood with dry eyes beside her father's grave unable to weep, felt the flood-gates of her soul opened for the sorrows of the man she loved. "I hare come in here, sir," said tha angry citizen to the superintendent of the horse car company, "to get justice. Yesterday as my wife was getting on to one of your horse cars, the conductor stepped on her dress and tore off a yard of it." What Ho Wanted. -1 ' ♦ t'j of t'.i have kept np t ljh that dreadful •,ime. I ust to t'li.m of h!m in Rome, oj' Paris, an' Italy, an' alj thejn furria' i D• ] never con Id - i.ui-rvUle JoarcuU. a n;Jr ins of . i • r v. . feet arm a gray s mDrero head./ In spite of her an the f»rl wasstri'cinfly har chestnut brown hair, clea' red/mouth and a firmly There was an air of dignit' tion about her, and fearle (jjazc, which at onco challe \tion and respect. Nt.'Hello, Barb, you an Capt. Ggorce, approael who slid {com th« pave it a cut with thei swi ; In her hand. The sha™} , bounded away "he trD upon her Dr. Johnson's Tribute to Reynolds— Dr. Johnson's ready wit has become proverbial. "Good morning, Oliver," quoth he to Goldsmith one morning, meeting the modest author on the Strand. "Whither away?" "To Sir Joshua's," replied Goldsmith. "And wherefore, O modest Noll! do you seek Sir Joshua?" queried Samuel. "To have my portrait painted." "Just my luck!" retorted Johnson, like a flash. "I've lost my bet." "Have you a bet?" said Goldsmith, with a show of interest. "Yes. I bet Garrick five bob you would not be immortal; but, by the gods, if Reynolds paints you I've lost.-" Goldsmith smiled weakly and passed on. Some Beviged Anecdotes. H i^tirr. covered her icout'.i dress, dsome, with Las Cheritas was still wrapped in Blumber when he passed through the town, for it was but little past dawn. He paused beyond the camp upon the crest of a hill to watch the sun rise. He saw the waste ruggedness and somber coloring of the hillsides glow and become radiant, as the sovereign of day began his triumphal march. Below hi™ there was a world of gray vapor, out of which the tops of the nearer pines rose as mysterious as if they had no root in solid ground, and above him the snow-capped summit wore a crown of opalescent glory. The mists rose higher and uncovered the now awakening town. Every sound of life therein, blending with the low complaining of the stream, made a faint and soft melody. "Wait, oh wait!" she answered. "When he is gone I'll tell you. I can't think, I won't think, of anything but pap." T ;■ -. mil my watchword be, Aii-j , iij oju iiwj jut uiy soul Inspire, 1 or 1 u.111 keeu and free. She knelt upon the floor at George's feet, she kissed his rough hands and wept—oh, for her bruised heart how she wept—for the falseness of Agnes, for the ten years of struggle, and for Capt. George's crucified trust. "Well, sir," calmly replied the superintendent, "I don't know that we are to blame for that. What do you expect us to do, get her a new dress?" blue eyes, a molded chin. C"'But I may hope, Barb?" Barb thought of her own suffering In the weeks just past. Ilere was one who loved her, as sho loved the man 6he would never sec again. Her future was a blank. Why not be Gaines' wife when her father was dead, even though she could never love him? She would try, earnestly try, to make him happy. Uigherl Via, even in defeat Hold 1 my lofty purpose nigher A yd decQi it still mole sweet. and resolussness in her lged admira- "No, sir, I do not," grimly replied the other, brandishing in his right hand a small piece of cloth. "What I propose to have you do is to help me match this cloth.''—Cloak Review." She called him tender names in her excitement, "the noblest, the best, the truest of all men;" and as she wept for him, George saw a great light break through the gloom which bung over his liffe. Higher! Though victory should smile AuJ bringing mo my one desire, Should say. "Best thee awhile." oat late," said 'ng the girl, caynse and The days ffrent by in a procession of I Dauty, and the early frosts began to Oange the leaves of the oak and birch to a soberer hue, while the purple glory Of Indian summer yet lingered in the valleys. nistier! Tim be my shibboleth C Of those few friends I require And love in life and death. xih she held little beast Captain Mehun, of the P. and O. S. N. xanpany, was a thoroughly good fellow, beloved alike by his officers and crew. His passengers both liked and respected aim. He had always a kind word for everybody, but he never forgot to give a "Roland for an Oliver" when called upon to do so. The Captain'* Revenge. / ip .an, not&mg loth, for he knew himself to be near home. "You may hope," she answered, ris- ing. A joy, unlike anything he had ever felt even in his youth when he first loved Agnes, thrilled him, and spoke in the tones of his voice as he raised Barb in his arms, and clasped her close to hi* heart. Gaines trembled in the excess of his great joy and tears rushed to his eyes. "Kiss me. Barb." Higher! Up to that frigid height Where clinging needs and lasts expire And thought tlies strong and light. Sandy Ellis' life faded with the fading season. Barb tepded him lovingly, but at length the time came when he no longer answered her care by so much as a smile, but babbled in a weak whisper of youthful scenes and youthful friends. Garrick's Estimate—Garrick, upon being asked whether or not he thought Hamlet crazy, replied that he really did not know, but judged he might be if he ever saw himself played by Barry. The value of this witticism is somewhat destroyed by the suspicion of its having been inspired by professional jealousy. Dumas and Monte Cristo—"Dumas," said Balzac, "if you were writing Monte Cristo over again would you do it again as you did it first?" "Not exactly. In the main it would have been the same." "In what respect would you have altered It?" "In no respect—I should have augmented it." "And how?" "By sending the count to the United States senate for a term. He was rich enough, heaven knows." It was this jest that enabled Balzac to realize why Dumas was considered worthy to associate with the immortals.—Pack."I've bin down the valley fer medicine fer pap. Am just gcttin' home," 6he answered, and, although she spoke the rude vernacular of the region, there was a certain refinement in her tones. And Barb, who had refused and fled from the caress of the man she loved, bent over Gaiucs without a blush, kissed him upon the lips, then passed into the house with a calm step. Higher— God save me from old age. From listressness and eyee that tire Of thine illumined pagel Still higher rose the curtain of vapor, and at last breaking into fleecy clouds floated above him, shutting out for an instant the glistening summit, then higher, until it melted In the azure sea of the sky. He heard the far off cry of some wild animal in the forest; above the tops of the trees a hawk lazily circled in the clear air, and Capt. George, after one long look backward, rode slowly down the trail. "Barb, my dear love, the hand of God is in everything," he said. "I was like the old prophet in the story. 1 traveled a thousan' miles to pick a certain flower, an' didn't find it, for all the while it was growin', all unbeknown to me, right by my own doorstep." I remember during one voyage there was a lady passenger on board who was very fond of making nasty remarks apparently to herself, but just loud enough to bo heard by everybody present. One day at dinner Captain Mehun was carving a very nice saddle of mutton, and, sailorlike, he certainly carved with rather a heavy hand. When a plat9 was handed to this lady, who I will call Lady M , she said to herself (but in a tone loud enough for everyl»ody to hear), "A cartload? How I detest a cartload." "Barb," as she was called by the entire camp, was the daughter of Sandy Ellis, one of the better class of miners, a-ho, In his young days in Scotland, had jeen the master of a village school. He married a pretty Knglish girl whom he met upon a summer journey in Derbyshire, and lured by stories of fortunes to be made in the- transatlantic world, sought the western gold mines as his quickest road to wealth. His delicate wife soon succumbed to the hardships of frontier life, and left him with Barb, a child of seven, some ten years before our story opens. The whisper, too, was finally still, and the watchers could tell that he lived only by the faint rise and fall of the covering over his wasted breast. Then that, too, ceased, and silence, that silence which the bereaved cry of the living can never penetrate, enveloped him—and he slept Higher! Oh, let this spark divine Leap glittering to the central lire The all pervading shrine. On this same evening Capt. George, worn with his long journey, yet as eager and joyous as a boy, reached the little New England village which had been his boyhood's home. "A fixe mas, too," she echoed. parts; for 1 was boun' Ray should see the world, an' so I sent him to Yurrup. I ust to think of him eatin' grapes an' olives an' oranges - an' all them tropical things, in the warm sunlight an' under the blue sky, an' it seemed mos' like I was there, too. You can't think h6w it cheered me up." "An" while yon were starvin' in the mountains Hay was travelin' an' en- Joyin* himself on your money," muttered the girl to herself, with scornful indignation. "lie mus' be a 'fine man,' indeed." Barb hid her face upon his breast. —George Horton. " 'Tis you I love, little 'un, you that drawed me back, fer I felt that I couldn't live, less I told you, an' had yer-sympathy. I didn't know it waa love, but 1 know it now, an' I thank the A'mighty that He didn't 'curse me with my heart's desire,' as the good Book says. Lou and Gain. It was nightfall when the wheezy little engine puffed its way up to the station and he alighted from the train, but it was not so dark but that he could recognize every familiar landmark. When I compare What 1 have lost with what I have gained. What I have missed with what attained. Little room have I for pride. In Las Cheritas the bustle of life began again. No man watched the beauty of the 6unrise, for what is the wealth of nature to those whose object and aim in life is gold? The labors of tho day and rest at night are filled with visions of gold, the destroying demon and the beneficent angel of the human race. "We are such stuff as dreams are made of and our little life is rounded by a sleep." Out of silence we come, from whence no mortal can tell; into silence we go, whither no man may follow. % I am aware How many days have been idly spent; How, like an arrow, the good Intent Has fallen short or been turned aalde. "I'll go to Agnes first," he thought. "Ray must wait this time." How high his heart beat cs every step brought him nearer to tho woman who had been his inspiration all these years. "Will ye marry me, Barb?** • • • • • Everybody looked at Captain Mehun, who had heard Lady M—»'s remark aa well as the rest of the company. He look no notice, however, but continued » sailor's yarn he had been relating as if he had heard nothing. After a short time, seeing that Lady M had nearly emptied her plate, Captain Mehun said in a very persuasive tone: Barb bono her bereavement with outward calmness. • • But who shall dare To measure loss and gain In this wise? Defeat may be victory In disguise; The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide. Barb had picked up some education and had inherited refined tastes from her mother, and as she grew older was a conV H. to her lonely father, who guards her with jealous care from the rough associations of the various mining camps to which he wandered in search of wealth. Gaines came slowly toward the cabin, his soul full of sweet expectation. He thought that the moonlight had never been so lovely; the odor of tbe tamaracks reminded him of the incense burnt in some great cathedral, and he could imagine the roof was the arch of the forest, and the dome the snowcapped summit. "There's Dcacon Gublis' house," he said to himself. "An1 I'm blest if there ain't the deacon himself sittin' by the tabic readin' by the light of a dip, jest as he ust to twenty years ago, when I "She don't seem to take it very hard," the miners said, and wondered that she did not weep and lament. —Longfellow. But Capt. George was too full of his subject to beed her. These men, perhaps, wrestled too laboriously with primeval nature to have any sympathy with her beauty. However that may be, Las Cheritas sallied forth to its accustomcd work, to the shaft, the placer and the sluice, neither missing the absent nor caring for aught but self. Sandy's death by a lingering illness had made a deep impression upon the little community. Not that his death was the first that had occurred in the camp. Oh nol Hli Part. "Now he comes back, has Ray, an' wants to go into business, an' I'm goin' home to give him a start. How I will surprise him, an' her, too." It is related by an actt t who overheard the conversation that a few morning* since Mr. Barrett left the Players' clnb earlier than nraal to go to the theatre. Mr. Booth had ensconced himself with a pipe and newspaper, and looked at his companion in 8urprise. vtas a little shaver an* stole his watermelons. An' there's the meetin' house. I wonder if the parson preaches ez long sermons ez he ust to. and I wonder what small boy sets in my old place on' thinks of th« srienlflfd front in the brook an' the birds' nests on the hill. I'll go to church Sunday and fin' out. "This is really a deliriums saddle." Then addressing Lady M , continued: 'I have a very prime cnt here. Pray illow me to give your ladyship a small piepe more." Capt George and Ellis were chums, drawn together by mutual tastes and mutual dislike of the vicious life of a miners' camp. Their cabins were near each other whenever their rude home had happened to be. A year ago they hod come together to share in the toils and triumphs of Las Cheritas. Sandy'* toil and triumph®, however, would soon be over, for even the healing air of the mountains had no power to stay the progress of consumption, brought on by a winter of severe privation, and it was plain to Barb that she would soon be fatherless, as well as motherless. The graveyard on the hill slope had several silent tenants, men who had died" with their boots on." lie lingered as he went his way, eager to enjoy the glory of tho night, which was a fit setting for his long cherished dream that was now to be realized. "Her?" said Barb; "is he married?" "Married! The idee," laughed George. but a boy. Come to think of it, though," he said, musingly, 'he's only two years younger than her, though when 1 left he was only a lad, an' Agnes was a woman." Barb came out of the shadows of tho forest in which she had spent that never-to-be-forgotten night, pale but calm; and, after leading the cayuse to the stream that he might drink, tethered him in a sheltered spot and entered the cabin softly, that she might not wake her father, who still slept "Thank yon, Captain Mehun, ' replied Lady M . "As you say, it is very aice. I think you may give me tha smallest piece more." Savage scenery and surroundings Inspire savage feelings, and these men too often succumbed to the influence of "Whither now, Larry?" asked great tragedian. the Barb, hearing bis footstep, approached the door, with a face so changed and glorified by h«?r new happiness, that ho stared at her for a moment In astonishment."To rehearse," answered Mr. Barrett, as he fastened another button. NDER the shadow of frowning mountains the mining town of Las Cheritas "An* here's the bridge where 1 parted from Agnes. Dear girl, how glad she'll be to see me." "Steward," said Captain Mehun, instantly, "be so kind and back Lady M 's cart up again, if you please." "Agnes?" half whispered Barb, with a sinking heart. "To whearse? Are you always rehearsing?" queried Booth. "It seems to me you ar« doing more of it than usual lately." It was for him, he thought, tVita how brightness, a ad the thought thrilled hia heart. "Yes, Agnes," he answered, half shyly; "I never told you'bout Agnes." "No." He put his hand Into an inner pocket to assure himself of the safety of two little cases which reposed therein One of these cases contained a beautiful (fold watch with a gorgeous seal, for Ray, and the other held a gift for Agnes, a pearl necklace, with "Fidelia," in diamonds, upon the clasp. This remark simply sent the company .nto fits of laughter, much to the discomfort of Lady M . Verily, Captain Uehuo had his revenge.—Tid-Bits. stretched itself in one long She noticed with alarm that his face was deathlike in its pallor and emaciation, and Baw that another great sorrow was in store for her. Barb had been a woman in 6elf-repression and tenderness for her father since the day when her mother died, and she bad hidden as well as possible her own grief and tried in every way to comfort him. Iler little troubles and perplexities she had al ways carried to Capt. George. "Fer pap, ye know, has had lots o' trouble, an' I can't bear to bother him," and George's advico was always followed. "Well, you see, we have a new piece on Saturday." street upon the borders of a deep, swift "Barb," be "I hare come." "Then, Barb, just think of the prettiest face that was ever seen, a face like a wild rose, with big innocent blue eyes, and shiny brown hair like yourn, and a voice as sweet as a bird, at)' a heart so true an' patient an' lovin'. That's Agnes, an' I haven't seen her for ten years." Capt. George came out of the shadow and stood by Barb's side; the moonlight "And pray, what is the name of it?" With the proverbial hopefulness which is a phase of his malady, Sandy was confident of his recovery, and Capt. George Beemed to share his belief. Barb was iDot deceived as to the truth, and as she i-ode slowly along this particular evening she thought of her future with sad forebodings. "Come, set down here, Barb, I want to talk to ye." The girl's face flushed to the roots of her brown hair, but she refused to take the seat upon the bowlder to which George motioned her. " 'Romeo and Juliet.'" "Come now, Larry," laughed Booth, "and what part do you play?" In the EboDy Club. stream, whose waters were turbid and mud- "Agnes promised when I went away that she'd be a sister to Ray When we're married, I know shell be willin' to have him live with us, and we'll all be happy together " Mr. Barrett appeared for an instant dazed. " What part do you suppose?" he ■aid. dy from the dumpings, dykings and Be was silent and looked dreamily down the valley with a happy expression upon his face, as though he could see the sweet vision of the woman he loved. "Pray, how should I know?" answered Booth very seriously. "Is it the nurse?" of the sluice. A year affo this turbid stream was as clear as crystal and mirrored only upon its pellucid bosom the red berries of the mountain ash, the campfire of the Indian or the gaunt form of the grizzly who came down from his rocky fastness to slake his thirst in its cool waters. As he nearcd the farmhouse, Agnes' home, he noted that every window was alight, and lie heard the sounds of laughter and gay voices, as he softly entered the gate and approached the door, treading upon the grass that his footstep might make no sound. Barrett left the clnb in three mighty strides.—The Theatre. The girl, too, was silent. Her thoughts flew to a certain high cliff in the mountains, over which fell the turbid waters of the stream by which she now sat. She remembered how the spray rose like mist from the dreadful depths of the chasm, and how there was a deep quiet pool below -the fall, from which the water issued streaked with green, jostling the bowlders in its downward rush. She saw herself, a flashing figure from the summit of the falls, and lying with streaming hair and staring eyes, a drowned corpse, at the bottom of the q-Jtct pool. Then her mind swiftly picture.1 the tiilenee of the lonely cabin upon the slope, und the sorrow upon her father's fae*?, and she held her anguish stci nly in check, and awaited her companion's further speech. "The A'mighty is hard upon me," she said to herself as she bent anxiously over the 6ick man and listened to his labored breathing. "I shall have nothin' to live for when he's gone. A Hopeless Apprentice. "George, pap is wiitin' fer me." The chemist to the boy (in the laboratory)—What, wretch! You tell me you drank up, yesterday, all the prussic acid in that tumbler, and the first drop didn't kill you I v "Well, let him wait. Ye're my girl as much as pap's. Come, I want to talk to yer. And mind ye, don't tell yer pap what I say, not fer two or three days at least." "They're bavin' a party, I reckon. I'll peck in an' see if I know any of the folks." Thkt consigned ma body to thk dust. Mr. Coonz—I move, Mistah Chairman, lat Sam Blackie be expelled * from de •luU. A party of wandering mountaineers discovered gold in the sands upon the water's edge, and suddenly, as If by magic, a town sprang up of two thousand souls, who toiled all day hidden from the light of the sun down In the ravines or worked at huge windlasses extending over unsightly holes Is Which they had sunk or were sinking shafts, dragging up by sheer strength of muscle great buckets of dirt from the bowels of the earth. nature arovind them— nature, who is so careless of life. nothin', yet I «nus' live, perhaps to b* old." The boy (frightened) — No, sir; it didn't. But it wasn't my fault. I didn't know it was prussic acid.—Paris Figaro. Chairman—De gen'leman will state de aaturo ob his charge. The girl's blue eyes sought the ground and the blush deepened, for her heart throbbed painfully under the coarse blouse. , Sanely opened his eyrs and smiled up tato her face as she bent over him. He stood in the shadow of at) open window and peered in There were familiar faces in the room, some grown old binee he saw them last, and others young men and women who were mere children when he went away. Men had been "struck down in the storm of human passions as the lightning strikes the oak when the tempest rages," and their life and death were forgotten. Mr. Coonz—Breakin' into a feather shop, sah. Ef a man wants feathers he should take 'em iu de t raditional way. sah, on de live bird.—Puck. "Ye're pale, lassie," he said y* slept well?" '"Not very vrell, pap, but 1*11 make H up, never worry," 6be answered, cheerfully."Da' A Bracer for a Wearied Brain. An exhausted dude ordered "a stiff sarsaparilla" at a Broad street pharmac) last night, aaying in explanation of hia state that he had been "umpiring a game of tiddly winks."—Philadelphia Record. "I'd rather not listen Jest now," she said. This death, however, was something different, and there was a pathos in it which touched these rude men. "What's con»e to ye, child?" said the man, half angrily. But where was she—Agnes? As he gazed into the long, old-fashioned parlor, the door at the opposite end of the room opened and a portly  with a book in his hand, entered. *75ABB," HE SAID, "I HAVE COME." Ah American Fable. She busied herself about the cabin, assisted the invalid to make his toilet, and prepared his frugal breakfast. She lingered over the daily tasks, making a vain effort to employ her mind as well as her hands, but her spirit followed Capt. George down the trail over which he rode all day, and she thought of him lying at night in the shadow of some giant rock, rolled in his blanket asleep, dreaming of home and Agnes. Capt. George did thus sleep—but ho dreamed of Barb, and felt,even In his dream, the thrill which ho felt when he clasped her to his breast, the vague pain as she cried out: "No; oh no!" and fled from him into the shadows of the night. They prepared Sandy's hody for the gTave which they dug under a tall pine in their primitive cemetery, and on a bright Sunday afternoon, the day after bis de-th, they carried the unpainted pine bos which held his mortal remains to their last resting place. lay in a yellow flood upon the cabin floor, and encircled the two like a halo. A Boy who had his hand wrapped up Cn a Bandage called up.n a well knowD and said: Oh! blindness of man! You can look upon the unfolding of the fairest flower that ever blossomed in the human heart and be unable to distinguish it from t he meanest weed which grows by the wayside.George put his arm about her. She nestled close to his side, and smiled up into his face with u look oi ineffable trust and content—and Gaines'was answered.It was evening in Las Cheritas. The sun kissed the 6now-capped summit which towered over the town, let his touch linger for an instant as if in benediction, then vanished, and far up, streaming from behind the mountain, a few rosy rays trembled, then melted Into the clear purple of the sky, and the Silver horn of the young moon hung in the heavens. The Truant Strand. Twas only one wee wavelet From some sweet woman's head; A blonde and curling truant— "Oh, Sage, I am but a young and inlocent Kid, and I Dosire to be made (Vise." A hush fell upon the company They arose and ranged themselves in couples, facing each other down the room leaving a sort of aisle between. A strand of golden thread. "I'm go in' horn.-, to marry Agnes at last. Uarb, you're a bij girl now, almost a woman; 1 want your advice." "What wonldst Thou, my Son?" queried the S;vge as he crossed his Legs aud cut off a Chaw of Plug Tobacco. What had come to Barb? Love had come to her. It had grown slowly with her growth and strengthened with her strength, until the man before her was in her eyes the embodiment of all that She had dreamed, read or hoped of earthly happiness. Uis virtues were io her superior to the virtues of all other men, and even his faults were dear; and yet, such are the contradictions of a maiden's nature, she shrank from the words which she longed to hear, and trembled in the presence of the ttan upon whose breast she would gladly have laid her fair young head It was an impressive scene, the towering background of mountains and forest, the straggling town and the brawny in flannel shirts and top boots with pistols on their hips, standing beside the open grave, at whose head stood the pale-faced girl in her uncouth dress, all listening with solemn faces while Gaines read a chapter from a pocket Bible and spoke a few yrordu setting forth the briefness of life and the lesson which the patientlyendured suffering through which the dead man had passed contained for them all Then they consigned his body to the dust and quietly dispersed. Las Cheritas is deserted. Its cabina are in ruins, and its shafts o'ergrown with rank grass and weeds. The brawling stream is again as clear as crystal, but it reflects no more the camp-fire or the Indian. Be is gone forever from the forest and the hUl slope, for the white man has driven the game from the woods and the salmon from the stream. The gold veins are exhausted, and the placers no longer yield the precious dust The sound of pick and shovel are heard no more, and the somber woods, the snowy peaks, the peaceful valley and the quiet graveyard lie under the smile of God, through summer day and moonlit nights, and tell not their secrets to the encircling air. It lay athwart his shoulder. Like bright silk finely spun; In graceful corves it nestled. And glinted tn the sun. "Advice," she said, in so strange a tone that Capt. George glanced sharply at her face, and vaguely wondered why the moonlight made hef look su pale and queer, "What can it mean!" Capt. George thought. "Yesterday I Picked up a Horseshoe in a Blacksmith Shop." Again the door wa3 opened, and Agnes, his Agnes, in the full flush of glorious womanhood, arrayed in bridal white, entered leaning upon the arm of a tall gentleman, with a handsome, effeminate face, and eyes like George'# own. It told of amber tresses. And eyes of violet blue, Upe like bow of Cupid, &.nd cheeks of rosy hue. "I see." The sounds of the blows of pick and shovel were still, the trackers -swung Idly upon tho ropes and ft bring stream of men from every country and of every race and type poured down the slopes on i through the streets of tho town, with the implements of their toil upon their shoulders and their gold pans under their arms. They shouted jests to each other, sang fragments of songs, walked by twos or in groups conversing, or slouched moodily and sullenly toward their cabins. "It was red hot." "Yes, advice. I want to take Agnes somethin', some present, to let her know that I've kept her always in my mind. What shall it be?" "As usual." Unconscious of its presence He wandered home t*D tea. "Teach me, oh, Sage, how to Tell the Difference between a Hot and a Cold Hotaeshoe, that I may not get Blistered agarn." And there within the portal Stood "wifey" all aglee. "I can't tell—I dont know—I must go to pap," said Barb, incoherently, rising from the bowlder on which she  and turning as if to gq. The lamp of Sandy Ellis' life flickered but feebly. He fretted sadly for Capt. George, and to Barb the world seemed vast and empty since he went away. It was well for her that she had little One glance at the face of the groom, and the fierce passion of murder grappled with Capt- George's soul for the man upon whose arm the bride leaned, the man who looked proudly and half smilingly upon the company, was Ray, his brother- Within a little second. Ere her he could embrace. Her dark eyes flashed their feeling, A cloud burst o'er her face. "My Son," quoth the Sage, as he spat out of the nearest window, "it is as easy as Rolling off a Log. Wait until some other Boy has Picked up the Shoe, and »hen you will know all about it free of Cost." "What has come to ye?" he repeated. "Ain't you goin' to say good-by to me?" With woman's quick perception. The treaa had caught her sight- She went tor him like blazes— Her hair was black as night. —Sdward A. Oldham In Drake V Macartna VNothin'; J will stop If ye wish it," she answered, gently, taking the proffered seat. "Come, dear," said Gaines to Barb, who stood still at the head of the newmade grave, "let us go. You have a question to answer for me, and your utter loneliness, forgive me, dear, if I pain you, makes it imperative that you should answer it now." Smoke curled in pearly gray spirals from the rude chimneys, and soon the fragrance of coffee and fried bacon filled the evening air. "Good-by,"she whispered wHh averted face. "It is for this I have been cold and bangry! It is for this I have toiled and suffered! Betrayed by the two as has been my thought by day and my dream by night! Moral: But we never —Detroit Free Press. Capt. George flung himself upon the ground at her side, and in the brief silence which followed Barb gazed at the turbid waterfall, which was strangely beautiful in the tender light, which was neither twilight nor moonlight, and became calm again. lie took the hands which hung limply at her side and in a voice full of emotion said: "Barb, little un, won't you wish me joy in my new life?" In the presence of the sublimity of nature, man, his struggle and defeat, his love and hats, even hia lift and death, are but fleeting shadows of her Titanic impulses, and with all their poignancy they are but «mpty symbols, a passing breath, though to him his nothingness is the tragedy of the universe.4 Seven Callers. Mistress—Did any one call when I was out? Parliamentary Amcnitie*. How these gentlemen of thu gilded chamber pull each other to puces! A member of the Extreme Left said, in reference to another deputy of the Extreme Right: Upon a bowlder near a shaft at the Bide of the trail, one of this toiling army of gold seekers lingered, looking down upon the familiar scene. lie sat in a thoughtful attitude, with his shovel and pick at his feet. A magnificent specimen of manhood, ho was, fully 6ii feet in height, with a strong intelligent face, clear dark eyes, and curling hair falling ©ver the collar of his clay stained "josie." Sitting thus in the waning tight, he was a figure in harmony with kis surroundings, the mountains behind him, and at his feet the noisy stream, which lashed itself into a yellow wbite foam, as it fell over a miniature precipice, the basalt of the rocks seeming black by contrast. "It is for this I have been an exile for ten years! Only a while ago, she wrote me how much she loved and longed for me, an' hoped I'd come home next year. New Girl—Yis, mum, foive leddies an' two gintlemen. Barb wrestled a moment with her bleeding heart, and then, oh, divine spirit of woman, which suffers and gives no sign, which goes down into the valley of the shadow with a smile, she looked up into his eyes bravely, and •aid steadily: The girl seated herself upon the grave, with a white, set face, turned away from the speaker, but made no answer. Mistress—Where are their cards? New Girl—Therl was no need o' thim lavin' any. At length George said in a dreamy tone: "Barb, I'm goin* home." Gaines bent over her as if -to assist her to rise. "Come, dear," he said again, firmly but gently. "The previous speaker is a marquis, who bedaubs his head and its political creed with a coat of old, rancid pomatum, dating from the reign of K"ig Pharainond." "They're both guilty. I've been robbed! Robbed by 'em both! In the mountains when a robber is caught in the act, he's killed, an' they both shall die!" Mistress—Why not, I should like to know? The girl involuntarily glanced upward to where Capt. George's cabin showed dimly through the dark tamaracks.|thk end.] "Good-by, dear Captain George, and God bless you." She flung out her arms with a gesture pf passionate entreaty Trumped Over Him. New Girl—Cti was at home. Mistress—You? New Girl—Yis, mum. They called on me, mum.—Good News. "Leave me alone with him!" she cried, "only a little while, or my heart will break. Come to me to-night," and she Wade a gesture in the direction of her home, "an' I'll answer you, but not now. Oh! not now!" One of the officials on an estate comes to the owner with some complaint of the peasants, and makes so long a story of it that the lord, weary with so much useless talk, asks: To which the aristocrat replied "Not there," ho said, in answer to her look; "I mean home, my real home, back in the states." Something in Barb's gaze stirred George's heart with an unwonted thrilL Tears dimmed his eyes, and he clasped her close to his heart. "Kiss me, little girl!" he whispered. lie took his pistol from his pocket with trembling hand "Bo faithful to Raymond, self-denying, loyal, tender," he seemed to hear a faint voice say, and In fancy he felt the clinging baby arms again about his neck. "A deputy of the advanced schoo must be filthy to a degree if he can keep his temper on being told that he changes his opinions as often as his shirt."—Le Peti* Journal pour Rire. Barb caught her breath, and her voice trembled a little. "When are ye goin'?" A Nightmare. Cholly Bullseye—Did yon ever dream of me, Miss Ball? "Why did the people scud you? Had they no cleverer man they could send?" "Now; to-morrow." "No! oh no!" she said in such a tone of anguish that he involuntarily loosened his clasp, and with a Bob, and an incoherent excuse, she fled up tho path into the shadow of the tama-acks. Gaines bowed his head In assent, awed by the intensity of the girl's feelings. and left her alone with her dead. She clasped her hands tightly in her her lap and made no answer, and her companion continued: "I SHALL HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE' FOB WHEW HE'S GONE." lie flung the pistol far from him in the darkness, and sank upon his knees. "Oh. yes, iny lord, they had lota of clevcer uien in the village than I, but they thought I was clever enough for you —Fliegende Blatter. Miss Minnie Ball—Yes; two nights running; and the third  Cholly Bullseye—So delighted! And the third? Case of Mild Envy. His thoughts were evidently pleasing, for he smiled to himself and took no heed of the gathering shadows. II is cabin was half a mile up the slope, away from that babel down |Dclow, with its fights and brawls, gin phopB and gambling hells, but he did pot seem in his usual haste to seek ittouight. "It's been a hard pull," he said to iiimself,as if thinking aloud. "A tryin' and a wearin' life, but this is the last of it. I've struck it rich and have sold out before our luck turns." Irene—You ought to be thankful you haven't a great big mouth like mine. "I've told ye of Bay, my brother, that my dyin' mother placed in my arms and charged me, though I was only a little lad, to be good to him- 'Faithful, selfdenyin', loyal, tender,'them were he» last words to me, Barb." leisure to think in those sad days; but the burdeq pf her cares robbed her cheek of its bloom, and her step of the elasticity of youth. "Oh thou suffering Christ," his soul cried out. "Help me to drink of this cup of bitterness, and live." The shadows of evening were falling when Barb wearily and slowly climbed the slope upon which stood the two cabins. She saw as she neared Capt. George's that the curtain before the window was rolled up and the door stood ajar. Laura—Your mouth is none too large, dear. I quite envy you. My mouth won't hold more than half my hairpins. —Chicago Tribune. Late that night when the moon had sunk behind the trees, which stood like soldiers In battle array, with their backs against the mountains, and faces frowning down upon the haunts of men, when Captain George, the few preparations for his journey completed, slumbered upon his rude bed, and the sick man, too, slept and dreamed of his youthful home In the fjoottish high" Miss Minnie Ball—I took an opiate!— Puck. Through the long marriage service he wrestled with his passionate soul, and conquered. At length 'twas done, and the guests gathered with gay congratulations around the newly-wedded pair. A Hurt! Job. The miners of the town were kind, and brought wild honey and game from the woods, and salmon from the stream to tempt the sick man's appetite. They watched, too, by his bed at night, when Barb could be persuaded to leave him to take some rest, which was seldom. One evening, the close of a trying day, Barb Miss De Plain—You promised to paint my portrait for $500, but you have charged $5,000. Aa Amendment. Mrs. Kingley—The worse of it is that when one gets anything new in dress at the end of the week your servant has it. Mrs. Bingo—That is if yon have the same servant at the end of the week.— Cloak Review. Barb looked at him with her heart In her eye*, and murmured to herself, in- "It is sold," she said to herself, and her sad heart grew yet heavier and her slow step slower. Great Artist—You forget, madam, that after I fiied the price for the portrait von added that you wished it iuealisad. —Good News. He—So Jack isn't devoted to Kate any more. Did they fight? She—Yes; they had an engagement— rale Record. Kxactly So. Audibly: " 'Faithful, self-denyin', loyal, kaflar,'" .... . Capt. George entered the little sittingroom where the wedding gifts were displayed. The room was emotv and he When she entered the low door of her own cabin her heart crave a throb of