Pittston Gazette

              1 I KitahlUhed 1850. I VCt. XLIXNO.M. ) Oldest Newspaper in the Wvomine Vallev PI1TSTON LUZERNE COUNTY, PA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 1899. A Weekly Local and Family Journal. J SI OO.T.ir : in Admct, Tbey tired at my carriage. Think of that. Good morrow, Christian. Catch this salute I waft you from my finger tips. Yes, fired at it. How came I through? The Spanish lines, of course. A dillicnlt matter, do you think? Nay, not at all. 1 told the truth-r-nsed no diplomacy. Whenever some fierce don would stop and demand my passport of me, I smiled upon him through the window, and when he asked whither I journeyed I answered truly, 'I go to see my lover.' And then not one tried to stay me!" dim came cadets bearing something shapeless covered over. "Oh, I don't know," raid Ragueneau impatiently. "He spoke of fever—meningitis. But, pray yon, come. He's all alone. Ah, could yon see him—all hip head bound .up, bis poor white face, unseeing eyes! Come!' Should he come to himself and move upon his bed with no one near he'd die." "I cry to yon, my dear, my sweet i Not once has my heart swerved, my own. And 1 am he who now—and then— Beyond the stars—is yours alone." the lanrel and the rose. Take all! In spite of yon there is one thing, one thing, I bear, and when tonight I enter into heaven and make obeisance at the threshold, one thing without a crease— without a stain—I bear away with me in spite of yon." THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. CHRISTIAN ENDEAVOR. "Now I can never tell her," muttered Cyrano. iToyte P«r the Week Beginning Jan. 22—Comment by Rev. S. H. Doyle. Roxane pushed forward. The oadets lay their burden down. Some sought to hold her back, but she flew toward the oloaked, still figure lying there. She screamed and pushed the cloak aside. His voice rang ont, triumphant, glorious. The letter rested in his hand. Roxane touched him. It had come to her like a great revelation. "Yon read the letter you had never eeen, and look—it is too dark to eeel" "Roxane!" he cried, with a great start. LESSON V, FIRST QUARTER, INTERNATIONAL SERIES, JAN. 29. Tone.—A student s prayer.—Pa. iU, 1-14. (A masting for the day of prayer for colleges.) The day of prayer for ool leges may well be observed by tbe Christian Endeavor organization. Many Endeavorers are in oollege subject to the peculiar temptations of college life. They need and want onr special prayers. The present is particularly opportune for thia observance, because recently a great religious movement has been begun in our oolleges and universities. The trend of oollege thought and life today aa never before is toward religion, and the Christian religion. It is one of the moat hopeful signs of the times that the educated young men of- our country are turning more and more toward religion. Tbe proofs of 1t are flourishing oollege YotUkg Men's Christian associations, tbe wonderful students' volunteer movement and great interwt on the part of thousands of studens in general religious servioea and wjpe. These facts are matters of great rejoicing and thanksgiving and invite our earnest, united prayers for their continuance, under tbe richest blessing of God. In the moonlight they strained their eyes to see him. They listened, holding their breath for the last word. Text of "the Leaaon, John Iv, 5-iS. Memory Veraea, 18-IS—Golden. Text, John iv, 14—Commentary Prepared by the Rev. D. M. Stearna. "Christian!" Ehe screamed, tian! Christian!" "Chris- Ragueneau drags Le Bret away, and as the two hurry away by the colonnade leading to the chapel Roxane catches sight of them and ga.vly calls after them. They disappear without answering or hearing her. "And that—and that?" whispered Roxane. But Christian conld net hear, "For 16 years you've played this part, the kind old friend who comes to tCopyrUrht. 1898, by D. M. Stearns.] He fell back into Le Bret's outstretched arms. His sword falls fiom his hand. But through the bine and silver of the night she saw his smile. She bent over him. She kissed hia forehead. She whispered once again: 5. "Then cometh He to a eity of Samaria, which Is called gjychar, near to th« parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph." He is anointed with the Holy Ghost and with power and gow about doing good, seeking never His own will, but always the will of His Father, and all His steps as well as all His words and aotions are ordered by the Father (Acts *, 88; John vi, 88; xiv, 10; Ps. xxxvli, 28). To live such a life is the bus! ness of the Christian, and Christ In us will live that life if we yield fully tJlHim. 6. "Now Jacob's well was there. Jesus, therefore, being wearied with his journey, sat thus on the well, and it was about the sixth hour." As we said In a previous lesson, probably 6 a. m., aocording tc John's way of counting. He would be journeying early, so as to avoid the heat of the day. He is weary, for He is truly man and in all points tempted like as we are. We have not a high priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities. He knoweth our frame; He remembers that we are but dust. ' She finished proudly, simply, with a ,look at Christian. Cyrano, watching her, went wild. Bat De Guiche, with the thought of his order in bis mind, had no time to rage at lovers' glances. CHAPTER IX. Ironically, indeed, did fate speed the bullets there at Arras. The young husband, adared and adoring, died. The man who prayed but for a soldier's death, the man whose hopeless ugliness forbade bim hope of love and whose high houor would not let him tell the story of the wooing, be lived on. CHAPTER X. In the garden Roxane waited for her friend. She bent over bexp embroidery frame and watched the sisters bring the armchair where he was wont to sit be- CHAPTER VIL the want of food to Kill nis courage. At his captain's command be begun to rally the men. First it was with jests. At the corner of the street the flutes played a sad air. The pages thus announced the coming of a man. "Yon must leave this place at once," he said. "There is no time to lose. It is not safe." "And that," he answered, smiling into her eyes, "is my soldier'# plume, unstained." "And that?" "If yon be so hungry, eat your patience then," he counseled one grumbler.- "He's late," she said. '"What can it be? My faithfnl 'Court Gazette' behind his time after so many years? The portress keeps him—preaching how to save his soul. Ah, yes, that mutt be it!" side her. "It's be," said Cyrano. "How shall I keep him? How detain him? I have itl Now, Cyrano, forget the Paris acoent. Assume again the twang of Bergerao.""Yon are going to flight*!" she cried "I shall stay here." And while De Guiche and Raguenean are carrying away the grief stricken Roxane, Cyrano tnrus to the enemy. The fight had been growing fast and furious, and the captain of the cadets, wounded, is forced to fall back on the intrenchmentfi. His discounted company follow him, when Cyrano, mounting the breastworks amid the bail of shot, seizes tbe lance to which tbey bad tied Roxane's handkerchief aud shouts: THE END. "Always your pointed wordl" cried the man whom he rebnked. The Mad Poet'a Retort. "It is a post of deadly danger," said De Guiche. Many stories are told of McDonald Clarke, known 60 years ago in New York as the "Mad Poet," which show that be bad a vein of great shrewdness, sncb as is often possessed by people who are oounted insane. "80 would I die,"said Cyrano, "like this, making a pointed word for a good cause, felled by a thrust from some bMivo adversary s sword. Thus would I die—upon the blood stained earth—a point within my heart, a point upon my lips." "Of danger? So, sir, yon would ninke % widow of me? You protest? No matter. 1 will not stir a step from here. A fight? I never saw one. It will be amusing! And my hat! Yon will observe it conld not have been chosen better to accord with a battle scene. And fou, my lord De Guiche, were it not wine that you retire to headquarters? The attack may soon begin." She played with her needle, scanned the sky, mnsod, smiling, on his goodness to her, fumbled in her workbag for her thimble, frowned at her pattern, tapped her foot impatiently, then resolved to work and began her stitching. Still the minutes dragged by, and be did not appear. He climbed lithe as a cat into tbe branches by Roxane'a balcony. He olung to them, ready to fall at the proper instant. De Gniche came along, grambling softly to himself in tbedark- One day be was seated at a table in » New York hotel quietly eating his simple dinner when two young men took their seats at the same table. They were not gentlemen in the best sense of the word, and it ooonrred to them that they might have some sport with the poor poet Consequently one of them said in an unnecessarily dear tone: The prayer of the Nineteenth Psalm may well be called a student's prayer. It is the prayer of one who was himself a student, and the petitions contained in it are particularly applicable to students. The writer is a student both of nature and of the revealed word of God. He sees the glory of God revealed in the heavens, the firmament, day and night and in the sun. This knowledge baa oome from study. Hehas'also studied the revealed law of "God; and has seen ita beauty and its utility. The petitions of this psalm are also peculiarly adaptable to students in our college* and universities, away from home surroundings and influences and cultivating the intellectual side of m»n. For theae things we may well pray for all students. "Which itftbe house?" be growled. "Thia mask half blinds ire. Aht That's it. ,1 think that's it What can that idiot friar be about? What's this? What'* this? Where did that man fall from?" They did not care for that, tbe Gascons. Their answer was: "Gascons! Gascons! Never turn your back!" The retreating cadets rally around Cyrano and the little white Aug. The Gascon pipes strike up, and even the wounded try to crawl to the front. Roxane'a gayly decorated carriage is suddenly turned into a fortress, bristling with arquebuses, and as tbe overwhelming Spanish foroes swarm over the embankments Cyrano and his cadets meet them, singing: "We're hungry!" "M. do Bergerac," at last announced a little sister, ooming np behind her. Then Cyrano bade the fifer play and do tbe work his wit had failed in doing.7. "There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water. Jesus salth unto her, Give me to drink." For our sakee He put Himself in the limitations of a mortal body, liable to weariness, hunger, thirst, suffering and death. He who made all things and upholds all things made Himself dependent upon the ministry of others foe the necessities of life. He fed millions with manna for nearly 40 years and brought water from the rock at His pleasure."This is unbearable!" cried hie lordship. "I go, but for a few minntoa only. I-will return P' "At last," said Roxane. She did not tarn or raise her eyes. Some faint coquetry even in that she called ber friendship bade ber play tbus with him. Besides his coming was the punctual coming of the snn, and she took it with tbe same calm habit. She searched among her silks as she spoke to bim. TO THB BITTER USD CYRANO JESTS. langb and chat. Ah, blind that I was! I should have known, I should have felt your voice each time he spoke my name!" For Cyrano had fallen straight before his path heavily, aa though from some great height. "Play not tbe calls to battle," he oommanded, "but simple thiugs they beard of iu old Gascony—each piping note like the call of a little sister. Let them rise slow, like the slow rising smoke that curls from out our chimneys there. Flay the tunes the goatherds play—now heard, now lost down in the valley. Hear you it not? See you not your country—the evening purpling See yon not Gascony?" His departure was tbe signal for tbe wildest outbreak on the part of the Giasoons. Hair was curled, doublets laced, ruffles smoothed, presentations made to the beauty and the wit of Paris, whom love for one of them bad brought so far afield. "I bave seen almost everything and everybody in New York exoept McDonald Clarka I bave a great admiration for bis poems, and I would give a great deal to see tbe man." "From the moon," he answered grnffly, disguising hia voice. "Roxane!" cried Cyrano again, past all other speech. "What!" cried De Guiche, retreating a step from the madman. "You're late! The first time in all these years." "Those wordB of fire and honey dew —all yours, all yours! The voice that thrilled my jasmine vine to me—yours, yours! Your soul, your soul in everything!""The bold cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux I Brawling, swaggering boastfully. The bold cadeta"— Bnt amid the storm of battle tbe song dies away. When he paused, the mad poet leaned forward and said with evident gratification : "Where am I? What's tbe hour? What oountry ia this? What day of the week? What time of year? I'm stunned. I fall like a bomb straight from the moon." "Had I but a nut to eat," cried one youth, "I could die happy, having looked upon her face." Cyrauo's face was very white. He bad walked toward ber stifily, as one holds himself who fears to fall. Each step was taken with a pulling at the legs. His bat, jammed low upon bis face, conoealed a bandage round bis head. 8. "For His disciples were gone away unto the oity to buy meat." He who said, Conte, buy wine and milk without money and without price (Isa. lv, 1) sends his disciples to buy with money things necessary for the body. It is very difficult for us to believe the extent of His humiliation. We cannot understand how riob He was nor how poor He became for our sakes (II Cor. vill, 9), but we can look up gratefully and say, Lord, I thank tbee for bearing it for me! "Sir, I am McDonald Clarke, whom you say you wish to see." "Hungry?" called Roxane. "Ah, Ragueneau, Ragueneau!" "Indeed, indeed it is not so,"protested be. "It was your husband." "You loved me!" cried Roxane. "I loved you not!" "See how you falter!" "No, no, my dear! I swear I never loved you." Roxane, widowed, went back to Paria, but she wae no more tbe "precieuse" Roxane. She sought the peace of tbe convent, not aa a nun, for she would not. so falsify the human love her heart held for tbe lover killed at Arras, bnt as a boarder merely. There she could brood upon her sorrow ; there live again tbe brief hours she had lived with Christian. She bad no duties save to bis memory. She cherished in ber heart all the words of fiie and honey dew that once thrilled through ber veins. Upon ber bosom always lay tba letter they found upon bim there at Arras— the letter be bad meant to send Roxane, a blood stained, tear stained missive. The young man stared at bim with muob rudeness for a moment, and then, drawing a quarter from his pocket, be laid it on tbe poet's saying, "That's for the sight!" De Gnicbe made fruitless efforts to atay tbe apparent maniac's flow of words or to paaa him. But Cyrano rushed on. The men aat staring—not at tbe camp, not the arms, the sentinels, the trappings of war, but far past all these into far Gasoony. The higher love had killed the lower. Homesickness drove out hunger. And forthwith out from the carriage sprang the ex-cook, now Roxane's coachman. He carried food. He bore bottles. Pasties, cold fricassees, galantine, shoulders of mutton, ortolans, ham, truffled peacocks, old wine, all are seized by the famishing Gascons, who shout with joy to see tbe viands, and there, wi th death hastening to them, the cadets picnioked, banqueted and made merry in tbe presence of Roxane. 1. The first petition is for cleansing from secret faults. "Cleanse Thou me from secret faults" (verse 18). College life abounds in temptation to "secret faults." The boy who at borne has kept nothing from parents finds it so easy to do many things which he would not have them know. There is a temptation to deceive professors in recitations and in examinations. Let us pray earnestly that our young men at college may be delivered from "secret faults." 3. The second petition is for deliverance from presumptuous sins. "Keep back Thy servant also from presumptuous sins. Let them not have dominion over me." College life breeds presumptuousneaa. What the undergraduate does not know, in his own opinion, is not worth knowing. It is a soholastio preaumptuousness that leads to skepticism and even to atheism. Pray that our students be delivered from sins of presumption."I was staid," he apologized in a voice he conld control with difficulty, "by a most uuwelcome visitor." He spoke jokingly and with assumed playfulness, but he seemed to wrench the words out from bis cbest by jerks, as he bad palled himself along to where she sat. "It may have been a hundred years. It may have been a second only. I do not know. I only know that there—up in that ball at yellow saffron"— Clarke looked at tbe coin for an instant, and then, placing it in his pocket, be took out a "York shilling," cents. This be handed to the yoang man, saying gravely, "Children half price. "—Youth's Companion. "Your letter and your tears I've worn above my heart—tbe letter every word of which was yonrs." It was thus that De Guiche found them—Gascons again, who could laugh at starvation as tbey wonld laugh at whistling bullets. They were ready to bear themselves before bim with their customary air of insolent high spirit. 9. "How is It that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, which am a wouan of Samariaf For the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans." Thus answered the woman of Samaria. How different from Rebekah when Elieser said, Let me drink, I pray thee (Gen. xxlv, 46, 46). See in II Kings, 17, the origin of them Samaritans. Do good unto all, especially to the household of faith, and give to him that asketh thee are good preoepts to remember and praotioe, for not only is it more blessed to give than receive, but not even a cup of oold water given in the name of a disciple shall lose ita reward (Acts xx, 86; Math, x, 49). "Let me pass, air I" oried De Gnicbe. "But all the blood stains bis." "Why did you keep such silenoe? Why?" begged Roxane. "Oh, where am I? Tell me the truth! Keep nothing back! Where is it that I am? Where have I fallen like a shoot - lag atar? I had no time to chooae the place where I should land. Ob, tell me 1 Where am I? Bat—great heaven! Let me look on you! Yon're black! Have I, then, fallen into Africa? Are you a native?" A Decidedly Ko-rel Claim. Cyrano had sougbt out Christian early in her visit "Some creditor?" said Roxane lightly. "Tbe last creditor who has a debt to oollect from me!" Cyrano hesitated, and while she looked to bim for answer through the gates there broke Ragueneau and Le Bret A olaim onoe made on tbe explorer, Cameron, in tbe neighborhood of Gaboon, Africa, shows the peculiar workings of tbe native Afrioan's mind. Some of Cameron's possessions proved andnly attractive to a native, and be determined on transferring the ownership to himself. He accordingly paid another native 9200 to procure for him the coveted goods. He did not like their manner. He, too, wae hungry. Their eyes seemed always to challenge bis courage. Today he even went so far as to boast of his strategem of tbe day before, when, dropping tbe white scarf that showed bis rank, he had escaped from a detachment of the enemy, only to return later and rout it "Be not surprised," be whispered, "to learn that you have written .oftener tban you knew. I have—I have sent her more than yon knew of. I've written—frequently. Before dawn I've slipped through the lines to send them—a mere trifle." "Ah, fortunate man, so nearly clear of debt! And is it pa'd?" "Madman!" aried Le Bret. "Ab, madame, pardon me, but be has courted dvath by ooming here." She was not unhappy in the still convent and in tbe great park that sur rounded it At first De Guiche came ofteu to ber, but tbe great nobleman grew busier as years went by, and hia calla upon her were less frequent Bnt Cyrano never failed her. Week after week, year after year, tbe same hour of the same day brought bim to ber, atill the poet, tbe philosopher; still the warrior, fighting shams and wrongs with naked blade and knowing not the uses of diplomacy; always at beait tbe lover of Roxane, alwaya in manner her faithful friend and alwaya tbe light hearted jester of the old days, ready for a prank or a joke. "Not yet I bade bim wait I said I bad*a rendezvous wbioh nothing should defer. I told him to call again in just an hour." "True!" laughed Cyrano. "I forgot The chronicle was never finished. Here is an item—'On Saturday at dinner time the assassination of De Bergerac.' Mark you my bandages!" De Gniohe, puzzled for an instant by the reference to hia oomplexion, suddenly recalled his mask. "A creditor can always wait," said Roxane airily. "You shall not leave me until twilight time. But what's tbe matter? You have not teased Sister Martha?" "Oh, my maak!" be exclaimed. "Ah! Am I, then, in Venice or in Rome?" "How often have you written?" demanded Christian. "Twice a week?" "Oh, oftener!" "Daily?" "Yes; twice a day." The assistant took the money and did bis best to earn it, but Mr. Cameron bad perversely looked up tbe very articles that tbe fellow's employer bad set bis heart upon. Tbe man could not carry out his bargain, and neither did he feel that be could part with the money. Therefore be ran off with it What more logical than that tbe man who was tbe loser by $200 should expect the explorer to make the loss good? This he assuredly did expect Uewent to Mr. Cameron and told him the story, demanding in the first plaoe tbe 9200 wbioh he, Cameron, by locking np bis goods, bad compelled the complainant to lose, and, secondly, the actual prioe of tbe goods themselves, which, but for these arbitrary measures, would now bave been in bis possession. It is not stated that hia expectations were realized.—Watohman. 10. " Jeeus answered and said onto her, If thou k newest the gift of God and who It la that salth to thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldst have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water." The gift of God is the Son of God, as we saw in last lesson (3-10). If the woman had ever learned what we call Isa. It, six might now have thought of the words "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye * the waters!" and havr Art tb' "Ah!" said Cyrano. "The white plume of Henry of Navarre had not been dropped thus. Some would not so lightly abdicate the honor of serving for a target. Had I been there, I would have picked it up and put it on." ) "A Gascon boast" sneered De Guiohe. He took his hat off, and for the first time Roxane saw tbe bandaged head. Half wild, she begged for enlightenment"I go—a lady waits me!" "Now I am sure!" cried Cyrano. "I am in Paria!" Sister Martha was walking by. Cyrano culled to her. Then be rages at her with burlesqued fury for her so called preaching at him. But bis teaa'ng lacked its Ctld ring, and suddenly he said: "And the.author's joy was so mad a one to you that you dared death"— "Hush!" whispered Cyrano. "Here she comes!" "All that I asked or hoped," said Cyrano, "was but to die a hero's death —'a point upon my lip. a point within my heart' And see! I am struck down by a footman* from the rear. Mocked even in death! There, Ragueneau! Why weep you ao? Comet, oome! What is it you do now?" 3. The third petition asks for aoceptablenoss of words and thoughts. How important that edooated and intelligent * — " ——• -* .**_ • ■ - ■» In apite of himaelf the impatient lord laughed. At once tbe maniac from the moon, with an air of complete goodoomradeehip, began to apologize for hia oome ye to meQ 1111(1 women should think and speal laid, t thou He flM* thing* acceptable to God. Tbeii If she bad known tbongbta and worda have increased re asked, Art thon weight becanae of thair and water? But aha for this reason we should otter this peti was not living tion of this prayer. was precious in — v. r - "Nay, give it me and I will wear it." Christian went to meet his wife. "LiMten, sister! I give you leave to pray fur me tonight at ohapel time." " Another boast. It'a gone—dropped in the Spanish lines where none may venture—as you knew." "Now tell me all," he said, "why jrou have oome tbia perilous way? Why you have braved tbeae dangers—roughnesses?"of whom Imlah wrote? appearance. "So 'tis to Paria that I've fallen! You'll pardon me my looka? I've journeyed far, you see. My eyes are full of atar dnst and my spurs are tangled with the planeta' filaments. See! I must brush me! A comet's hair iaon my doublet In my leg, if you'll believe me—nay, do not hurry—there's a tooth of the Great Bear, who bit me as I passed, and if you'd press my noae, monsieur, between your fingers milk would ran forth. Yon are aetonisbed" 'Twas from thfe milky way. A most amazing journey! I mean to write it for a book, and tbe small gold stars I carry will serve for asterisks." Jer. 11, 13, she might have a fountain .C*( living f knew not these things; she From bis pocket Cyrano drew forth the scarf. The good sisters liked him more than passing well. - Tbey liked the gossip of the court with which he brightened Roxane's days. Tbey liked, sweet soula, his teasing of their piety. "You drew me here," she answered; "your letters, lova The last one—reading it I conld not bear to stay from yon. Ob, love! Do not speak. Let me tell you all the tale—how from tbe night when, underneath my window, you sent your soul to mine, I have adored you. Before—I blush to own it —I crave yonr pardon for it—I loved yon only for your look. But then, your soul, your soul it was! And all your letters since! Ah, I have grown altogether yours; this month ae I have read my soul was faint for love. Ah, Christian, you have triumphed over yourself; you've won me anew. I love you only for yonr soul who loved you onoe but for your beauty." "I trimmed tbe lights for Moliere's stage," sobbed Ragueneau, "but I'll do so no more; but yesterday be brought on 'Scapin'—and a whole scene was yours—the one beginning 'Que diable allait—il faire.' Ah! How they laughed!"unto God, yet her soul Bible Readings.—Ler. It, 1-8; Nom *▼, 30; Dent. Vi, 6-8; xrii, 12; I Sum. xt, 1-36; II Sam. Ti, 6, 7; II Kings xx, 1-6; Pb. II, 16; xo, 8; Hath. Ti, 6-15; Lnke xriii, 1-14; Col. iT, 2-6; I Tim. ii, 1-4; n Pet. ii, 9, 10. "I fonndit there this morning," said he, bowing. "Permit that Ireturn it" God's Bight. 1L "Tiie woman saith unto Him, Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep. From whence, then, hast thou that living water?" Whether it be rich, religious flesh, as in Nlcodemus, or poor, sinful flesh, as in this woman, It la in either case ignorant of spiritual things. The well is too deep, and the natural man has nothing to draw with. The woman unwittingly described her own condition in her words Ui our Lord. She thought only of natural water, a rope and a bucket. She did not know the words at Isa. xii, 8, "With joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation." He testified what He . knew and had sera. Those who believe His testimony proclaim Him as the Truth, but those who receive not His testimony make Him a liar. Let us as faithful witnesses proclaim what we have beard and seen (I John i, 8). Tbe rage on the commander's face gave place to an uglier look. * One quiet autumnal day 15 years after the day when the white scarf of £De Gnicbe bad bade tbe Spanish attack at Arras, Roxane eat waiting for her friend. Tbe leaves were falling, tbe chestnut trees about the chapel were already golden tinted and tbe quiet sadness of autumn was in tbe air. Under the trees in tbe park of the Sisters of the Holy Cross, Roxane had been ieoeiving somewhat that afternoon. De Guiche bad called upon ber—changed, bent with weight of many honors. Le Bret had been there, telling hei of Cyrano's impndenoes."I thank you," he said. "I'll use it for a signal. See! Here npon the ramparts I wave it. A man below there rnns—a false Spanish spy. He came to warn me ttiat tbe Spanish will this , day attack us, for oar foroe is weakened. Perhaps yon did not know it, bnt . tbe marshal secretly has gone with a strong escort to Dourleus, where the king's provisions are. Oar camp being tbns made vulnerable, the Spanish will attack it. And with tbe scarf yon very kindly gave to me I have just signaled to the false spy to tell his general that this is tbe weakest spot to fall npon. Here tbeattack will begin. You'll have a chance to prove yoar boasted courage, sirs. Tbe marshal will return in time "That was life," said Cyrano. "To be tbe one who prompted tbem and whom tbey all forget. Roxane, do you recall tbe night when Christian talked to you beneath your baloony? Ab, well! That was the story of my whole life there. While I stood low, deep in the shadow, the others climbed to snatoh the kiss of glory. 'Tis justioe, and here upon my grave's dim sill I approve it. Moliere's genius, Christian's beauty." Be Still ul Kmw That I Am God. God takea no pleasure in pain or Borrow, bat He will impose both if thereby He may bring na to lore Him or make us mare like Himaelf. At suoh a time it ia eel flab, unbelieving, to complain and murmur—very wicked to find fault with Qod. Then are medioinea which, taken with wisdom and in moderation, baffle disease and restore health; bnt abased, they weaken and destroy. So with sickness and sorrow, as we please to nse them. To some they are what God means them for ail, a savor of life onto life; toothers, a savor of death unto death. At such a time it ia only wise to be very oonsiderate, very humble, very submissive.—Lutheran Obeerver. Laurenoe Sterne, the writer, was the victim of the intensest poverty. A little time before bia death, being in a state of destitution, he went one evening to borrow £6 from his friend Garriok. Upon arriving, be heard mnsic and knew that a partj waa going on. He heard the merry laughter, and, gently replacing the uplifted knocker, retraced bis steps. Sterae'a Destitution. Again and again De Guiche essayed to pass. Again and again Cyrano frustrated him. He did it all with such wnimsical grace that, despite ms annoyance, the noble lord found himself amused and interested. A rendezvous with a lady, no matter bow fair—that might befall one any night—but a talk with a man who, crazy though he certainly was, bad all astronomy and all mythology at his tongue's tip—that was of less frequent possibility. "Do not say it," he appealed, realizing what such a confession meant. Down the chapel alleyway the sisters, darkly seen through the afterglow, walked. The chapel bell rang. "True," she said, "he baa never taught his tongue to wait upon bis interests. He makes fresh enemies, I know. But still bis sword is long. He holds his foes in check." ROXANK IN THE CONVENT GARDEN. "But I must! Were you ugly—hideous—I still should love you utterly!" "I have not waited your permission to pray for yon, "said she, smiling, and walked on. A light breeze causes the yellow leaves to oorne showering down. Cyrano watched Rozane's fingers over her embroidery. 18. "Art thou greater than oar father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank thereof himself and his ohtldren and his cattlef" In chapter viil, 58, the rulers ask Him, "Art thou greater than oar father Abraham? Greater than Solomon or Jonah (Math, xii, 41, 48), greater than prophets or patriarchs, greater than angels or archangel, one with God the Father, God manifest In the flesh, how meekly He bore it all, to be so unknown, so misunderstood! Are you, for His sake, willing to have some one far beneath you socially or intellectually spoken of as better than you, and can you keep still? Can you bear to hear some other land or elty honored above yours and be meekly quiet because your city is New Jerusalem? "SiBtert" cried Roxane, starting toward them. We never feel onr miseries so keenly as when contrasted with the joys of others, and it is only then tbat we realise Wordsworth's pioture: to save tbe day for us, but not to save the men who are first assaulted. Brave Gasoons, who complain of paltry odds, be good enough to let yourselves be killed." "My God I" cried Christian, chokingly, seeing tbe wbole miserable web be bad span for himself. But before Rozane could even ask tbe cause of bit- dismay the cadets were crowding about their queen. Their captain had fastened ber little lace handkerchief on a pole for a flag. Tbt y pressed about her, glad to look on ber before they died. Apart from them, Christian, half mad with bitterness, bad sought Cyrano. "Nay I" pleaded Cyrano. "Do not go for any one. When yon oame back, I should be gone. Listen I The organ plays I" Le Bret bad Bhaken bis bead dubiously. Then he bad said: "1 fear for bim not simply an attack, but loneliness and hunger and the oold within bis dreary chamber. He is poor, madame. He has but one shabby suit of serge." And homelaas near a thousand homes I stood And near a thousand tables pined (or food. Cyrano was in tbe midst of a description at bis method of mounting to the mooo. "I'll never see it finished," he said. Is tar* Ilea. "Ah 1 I knew that time worn jest would come," laughed Roxane. Then a ■ilence fell between them, broken only by the swirling of the leaves. "I love you 1" cried Roxana. "Live, live for me!" Another story of tbis writer does not evoke so much sympathy. It was known that Sterne nsed his wife very ill, and in talking with Garrick one day in fine sentimental style of conjugal love and fidelity he said, "The husband who bebaves unkindly to his wife deserves to have bia house burn down over bis head." Prominence in the church is no sore sign of personal piety and certain safety. Christ denominated the heads of the ecclesiastical departments of His day as a "generation of vipers," whose warning to flee from the wrath to come was as daring, and their heeding that warning was as astonishing as its worthlessness would be proved unless they "brought forth fruits meet for repentanoe." Hypocrisy will cave no man because he happens to be the bead at some ecclesiastical department.— Church Standard. jj "At the hour when the moon wooes tbe aea," he said, "I lay me on tbe •bore fresh from tbe sea hath. And keeping the head first—for tbe hair holds aea water—I mounted in tbe air straight, straight as an angel I Then"— He finished with his sneer. Carbon was already forming his men in line of resistance. Cyrano with all bisold light hearted insolence bowed low to De Guiche in thanks, and to tbe cadets be cried: "Nayf" smiled Cyrano sadly. "In fairy tales alone do the ill starred grow beautiful when at the end the lady says, 'I love you!' I, ypu see, am the same up to the last!" "Ah," said the duke bitterly, remem bering bis own stifled conscience and itarved soul, "be is not to be pitied!" "My 'Court Gazette' seems dull today," she ventured finally. "It's yon she loves," be said, told me so." "She "The lord marshal of France may well make little of tbe trifling discomforts of my friend," Le Bret answered. With a great effort Cyrano forces back his faintness. "Ah, yea, to be jure," he laughed. "Well, listen. On Saturday, the 19th, having eaten to excess of peach preserves, the king felt feverish, but the dootor, with bia lancet, §oon quelled the treasonable revolt. The august pulse now beats normal. At the queen's ball on Sunday thirtyscoreof the very best white wax tapers were burned up. Our troops, they say, have chased the Austrians. Pour sorcerers were banged. The little dog of Mme. d'Athis took a dose''— "I made your misery. I—I"— "Then?" queried the half hypnotized De Guiche. "So we shall win for tbe Gascon coat of arms, with its six bars of blue and gold, tbe blood red one it lacked." "You made my happiness. I never knew the sweetness of a woman's love. My mother could not find me fair. I never had a sister. Later I feared a mistress would but mock at me. But I have bad a friend. Grace to you, a woman's robe has fluttered in my life!" "Look at my face!" interrupted Cyrano bitterly. "She said she'd love me, even though I were ugly," answered Christian. "Because my face biippens to be fair, is it right that I should destroy another mao'ii happiness? I will no longer bear "I know that I have all and he has nothing," said De Guiche, "but I'd be prond to take bis band—I envy him. When life seems most successful, though one has won success by no foul means, even then there is a vague unrest. It's not remorse; it's disillusion. Ah, tbe ermined mantle of the duke rustles as "If you think so," said Garriok quietly, "I hope yours is well insured." 18. "Jesus answered aud said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again." Both literally and figuratively true. The first the woman oould grasp, for she came often to draw water, but the seoond she understood not. But few have yet learned that the waters at this world cannot satisfy, and the multitudes seek the pleasures of sin, which satisfy hut for a season. They hew themselves out cisterns that can hold no water (Heb. xi, 26; Jer. 11, 13). 14. "But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst, but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water, springing up into everlasting life." Christ In us, the hope of glory Is a well that not only abundantly satisfies, but is ever springing up to refresh others. It is possible to be satisfied with favor and full with the blessing of the Lord (Deut. xxx, 88), so occupied with God that the pleasures of this world have no power over us. In chapter 1 we have water in oonneotion with the forgiveness of sins, In ohapter 8 water In connection with the wine of the kingdom at the marriage of the Lamb, in chapter 3 water in connection with the first step toward the kingdom. Here we have an advance, for every believer may be a well of water If only willing. * "Then—but the quarter at an boar ig paned," suddenly exclaimed Cyrano in bia natural voice. "Sir, yon are free; the marriage is made!" And to Christian be said "My beart misgave me this would be today. Here ia the letter that I wrote for yon to send Roxane. A farewell letter, it is sad. Death matters not, bnt not to look npon her face again—for yoa, I mean—oh, that is terrible!" In the cover there were three incisures—a formal letter of extreme politeness, written by a scribe; secondly, a letter written in my friend's own band; and thirdly, another paper, beaded, "Hidden Secrets," written also in tbe sultan's own band. At tbe top of tbe first page of tbe seoond letter is written, "Our friendship is sealed in the inmost recesses of my heart." Then this, "I send tbis letter to my honored and renowned friend" (here follow my name, designation and some conventional compliments). The letter then oontinnes: "You, my dear friend, are never out of my thoughts, and they are always wishing you welL I hear that you are ooming to Bee me, and for that reason my heart is exceedingly glad, as though the moon had fallen into my lap or I bad been given a cluster of flowers grown in tbe garden called Benjerana Sri, wide opening under tbe influence of the sun's warm rays."— "Unaddressed Letters," by Swettenbam.A Mater Ssltss'i Letter. Da Oaiobe sprang forward. • "What!" he cried. "Am I mad? That voice! Thatnoael Cyrano?" Oyrano bowed low. "I loved but onoe," cried Roxane, "yet twice I must lose my love!" Ho Bmios. Because you are not of the most impious class of transgressors is no sufficient reason to despise others nor to boast before God how good you ere, so that your prayer does not need to ask for the Divine mercy. Some have pray- i "Cyrano, at your service," be replied, "while we have plighted vows." One thing Roxane had overlooked in making her hasty plane for a wedding to thwart De Gaiche'a hopes. She had forgotten that while the commander of the faroea remained in Pari* the soldiers left there were under his direction. Her boaband and her cousin must do the bidding of their chief. And the chief's bidding that night when be found himself fooled by the woman be had believed half won to bis dishonorable love, and by her insolent cousin to whom be owed a long due grudge, wae not a light im. The Gascon cadets were ordered ■traight to Arras. it moves with sound of lost hopes and vain regrets, as a woman's gown sweeps dead leaves in its folds. • • • Cyrano's happier." Tbe moon came up through tbe branohes. Cyrano looked at it, but Roxane looked on him. CHAPTER VIII. On the rampart a sentinel called. There was a rumble of wheels, shots are fired and men rush to the wall. A cry oame from a carriage. "In the king's aervioe!" was the reply to the challenge. "The king's?" exclaimed De Guiche. The carriage rolled in, dusty and mud bespattered. It pulled up suddenly. The drums beat a salute. The carriage steps were lowered, and Roxane jumped out. "Good day, sirs," she called cheerfully as they all fell hack and gazed at her. No one spoke until De Guiche forced his question. "On the king's service?" "Tonight," he smiled with whimsical remembrance, "I'll make my lunar trip with no projeotile's aid. There they will send me for my paradise. More than one soul I have loved is thefe in exile. I shall find again—Galileo, Socrates— Come, come, you weep! Le Bret, you used to scold me. What? Ah, yes! Cadets of Gasoony are there! Copernicus has said"— "You are pensive," said Roxane, hinking it was but a passing mood of he duke's. "M. de Bergerac!" cried Roxane, with mock sternness, "I bid you hold your tongue, sir!" ed for graoe just because they have been so dreadfully wicked. Others in this age rather boast of their extra degree of sinfulness, thinking to make them apparently more fit for redemption.—Reformed Church Messenger. "Monday," went on Cyrano, growing whiter and whiter, "not mncb took place. Claire changed protectors. Tuesday the court repaired to Fontainebleau. Wednesday tbe Montglat said to Comte de Fiesque"— The duke turned toward Le Bret as Roxane walked toward a sister in the garden. "M. Le Bret. " he said. "It is tme that none dares openly attack your friend. But be has many foes. It was but yesterday at the queen's card table that I beard thom say, 'Cyrano may die yet— by accident' Bid him be prudent; stay at bome." Tk« Better Drawer. "Tour money or your life I" cried the robber. But suddenly his eyes close; his voice breaks, and bis bead falls forward. He bad fainted in his chair. In alarm Roxane ran toward him. "Ob," wailed Roxane, "I cannot bear it!" "Mais que diable allait—il faire en oette galireV" he raved on. "Ha, bal" laughed the artist, and draw a pistoL The artist bad no money, and, aooording to the critioa, Hot □inch life, bnt that was not why he langbed. He langbed because be belonged to the school which draws rapidly and boldly rather than the school which draws laboriously, with great "It's nothing," he said, recovering himself. "My old wound—got at Arras —it still troubles me." He smiles with an effort. "To be sure!" cried she merrily. "King Love's! What other king?" "Cyrano prudent!" said Le Bret. "Ah, well, I'll warn him." "Philosopher, physician, versifier and -mnsiciau. Made an aerial expedition and many famous duels fought. Lover, too—after a fashion. Here lies Hercule Savinien de Cyrano de Bergerao—a bit of everything, yet naught I" No time wu given the young bride to weep farewells. Her husband before the marriage vows had ceased to vibrate in tbe air was harried forth. Scarce bad •he time to beg her valiant cousin to keep her lover aafe in battle, pro dent in danger, faithful to ber and a dozen other easy things when both were gone. And DeUuiche, vanquished in love, felt himself victor, at any rate in cruelty. Then Roxane's callers had gone, and she waited with more longing and wistfulness in her heart than she herself even realized in tbe mellow afternoon tor the coming of tbe one who all her troubled life had been ber friend and helper. They gazed at her, stupefied with surprise, the men of Qasoony. Christian "Ah, both of us were wounded there, and both still bear the marks of our hurt," said Roxane. "I have his letter still above my heart" 16. "The woman tiaith unto Him, Sir, give me thia water, that I thirst not, neither oome hither to draw."" KOXANR'S DISCOVERS CHRISTIAN'S DEAD " She »till attention $o detail. —Detroit Jonrnai , but soon, nued to deal  herself a sin- (Tl NATi*i,»'5 the Meaaiab Kf 9s * Him as such, cC U» Globe for "aas r rheumatism! ■ NSUBALQXA and rimikr OanpUintaf I jktmti, A "* «"Der the Krtaccnt M Aoohmitbie ■UlEHIUt^UlUyl w'ul K3h DR. RICHTER'S Jju jusee of tbe BSjf 64 I MHIIlin WW f food from ANvnUn daberman'a fPAIN EXPELLERl )t at tbe ■ "or,C' re«owned! Bsrmrkabty »uoc«wf uI! ■ " Hoaly tennlne with trade Mark " Anchor, '■ Qnitera- ■PU.Eiektn fit PnHSC, New Tort. ■ '""i™ I II HMHEST IWMDS. ome from ■ 1$ Unaak Hiaa. Ontlunh ■ .be Fair port ■ mmIimmmMV ■ distant aoma B **aaaa a ran, to uanD *«■». A olaoe, taking i. a. aocrc, 4 x«rtk it. ltreet of Ar- ftmroi, pa.  ar expected 1 again. It __ ..... m^KmSJm . . ; I DR. RICKTln 1 I stoniabment I HiNCBOK" STOMACHAL beat fori later tbe aea " * c«flj1 ■ ia new reai BODT. He fell exhausted in his chair. He raised his eyea to Roxane and seemed again bitriself. "There is one question I-want to a*k you, dearest," said the beautiful girl aa she toyed with the diamond ring on her third finger. "When we are married, will you expect me to bake my own tread?" An Aatennptlal Dnderitaadlnc. thought only of natural water this. I'll be loved for myself alone, for myself as I am. I'll tell her all. She ■hall choose between us. Nay, do not try to stay me. I'll tell ber. Our marriage unwitnessed—can easily be set aside. You'll have your chance. She'll have ber choice." "You said that some day I should read it." with her, she began to see as His love and wisdom oontli W ben ber callers had left her alone, Roxane played with ber embroidery silk '.ud waited for the coming of her friend. Beyond the garden wall Le Bret, advancing on his way to give Oyrano the warning from the duke, was suddenly jtopped by Ragueneau. "Be not less faithful to his memory," he said, "but wear your weeds for two." Then she saw Him as "And so you shall today. See, here it is, hung in this bag. Open it and read." and her Saviour, she reoeived At Arras life was not a pleasant affair. Though tbe French troops wene the besiegers, they suffered for provisions almost as keenly as if they had jtaeo in tbe fortified town they attack ed, for, while they bombarded the {own, the troops of Spain gathered about them, and thus there was a siege within a siege, and tbe forces of France were M hungry as the men in tbe town. The padets were reduced to eating cannon jrada soaked in axle grease, sometimes catching a gudgeon and shooting an occasional sparrow. Things bad reached a crisis one morning. £ven tbe Gascons vowed that they bad not come out to figbt the gray wolf honger. They grumbled fiercely at their lot. They picked tbe commander to pieces. They found fault with bis wide laoe collar and his manners of tbe court. Hunger gnawed at them until they were ready to mutiny against even tbeir beloved captain, Carbon de Caitel- Jaloux, "I swear it." else bat Him and rnn to bear and joy bo filled her that sh "I have your leave to read it now?" be asked, holding it tenderly with a queer smile about tbe corners of hia ashy lips. His glazing eyes were fixed npon the trees. He started to bis feet. They rushed to hold him, bat be waved them back. "Yon can do as yon like about It, darling," be replied, "but I certainly ■ball insist npon yonr not baking mine."—Gbioago News. ridings to others The Sea Gvll and the P In the fishing village of (the Musselcraig of See quary") yon may freqnen seagulls flying into the h fishermen and partaking c their hands. One of these sea in the habit of staying in » house all the year round e* breeding season, when it left oently, while the gall war fisherman removed his Anohmitbie to Arbroath ( of Soott'a "Antiquary"), 8D£ miles from the former np his residence in Sooth broath. The fisherman nev to see his old friend the gu was therefore mooh to hiai that he beheld a fortnight bird come walking into L  dence with stately steps to resume his old familiarities and household ways' with his housekeeper.—London Lady "Roxane! Roxane!" called Christian "She will choose you," raid Cyrano. She came toward them, smiling, sweet, ber face effulgent with the love tbat glowed within her heart. Cyrano grew dizzy at the sight and the wildhope of happiness that bad leaped to life. Ragaeneau was white to the very ps. His eyes stack oat with horror. "I should like to hear you read it," she 6aid softly. "It oomes," he said. "I (eel my feet shod with marble, my hands gloved heavily with lead. But not here, sitting —no, standing, standing to the last, let me meet him—standing and sword in hand!" The old soldier raised his weapon defiantly. Cohappf Hindoo Womn, The Hindoo holy books forbid a woman to see dancing, hear mnsio, wear jewels, blacken her eyebrows, eat dainty food, ait at or view herself in a mirror during the absence of her hnsband and allow him to divoroe her if she baa no Sons, injures his property, soolds him, quarrels with another woman or presumes to eat before he has finished bis meAl. "Listen, listen I" he cried breathlessly. "Your friend—our friend—Cyra- The smile deepened, but it was not all a smile. It was a long regret, a memory and an adoration blent in one look. He opened it and looked on Christian's last words to his wife. 10"— " What is it? What is it?" pressed Le Bret in terror, shaking tbe unnerved oewebearer's arm. "Speak quick, maul Speak!" "Cyrano has something to tell you," said Christian, and was gone. On Cyrano's face the tender light deepened. Roxane watched him with a carious eagerness. From the ohapel came the fall notes of the organ. The parple twilight began to gloom among the golden tinted leaves. "Cyrano I" cried Roxane, half fainting. Bat be did not hear her. His eyea were still fixed straight ahead. "He doubts my love!" said 6be, looking, half puzzled, after him. "He did not quite believe that I would love bim were be"— "He came from out his house just now—a little while ago. He turned tbe norner—be was coming here. I saw bim. I hurried toward biin, and 1 saw —from out a window, a lackey throw a block of wood. Perhaps an accident"— "He looks npon my nose I The impudent ! What's that you say! It's useless? Ah, I know it. But no one fights for mere snocess. No, not It is more beautiful because it's fruitless. Who are you, there, you thousands? I know you, every one. All my old enemies. Ah, Falsehood, there I Have at yoal Have at yon!"—his sword was aimed at the shadows. "And yon, old Compromise? And Prejudice and Treachery! See bow I strike yon I Treat with you? Never! And you there, too. Folly, you? I always knew that at the end yon'd throw me to the earth. What matters it? I fight, I fight, I fight you still 1" CYBANO, THE DUELIST. "Ugly?" said Cyrano. "Ugly!" said she, blushing to say tbe word before him. stared dumfounded like the rest. Through Cyrano's lips a cry bad oome —a cry of pain and joy and loneliness and adoration for. ber daring. The others merelyfeaped like rustics. "Roxane, farewell!" read he in a voice that pulsed with feeling. Then he repeated it: A Newcastle (England) man wrote this to the editor on a postal card: "What bo, Mr Editor, what price this? If the month is the window of the intellect, toothache mast be • sort of window pain." "Bnt Cyrano? Oh, the cowards!" "Were he hideous—disfigured, grotesque?""Iran. I saw him, sir, our friend, our poet, struck straight to tbe ground, bleeding from a great wound in his bead I" I "He could not be grotesque to me. I'd love bim all the more!" "Roxane, farewell) Death waits for me— This very night he claims me, dear. And all 017 eoul, bowed with the weight Of love untold, fuels hii* draw near." "How yoa read it!" cried Roxane. Bat Cyrano did not hear. He was reading with his heart, fall of the stored love of years: "The siege," said Roxane airily, an though she spoke of a play, "tbe siege is too long." Cyrano, returning from a mad dash ) made each morning through the paoish lines, tbat be might send to oxane in Paris love letters, all signed hrietian, for tbe bargain made in agueneau's bakesbop still held force, ntnd a}} the camp in turmoil. Tbe en had vowed they would no longer The blood rushed through Cyrano's veins like fire. He trembled, lost himself. At last perhaps love stood waiting for him. "Not dead? Not dead?" cried Le Bret in an agony of fear. ACTXV* SOLICITORS WANTED KYKBY" where for "The Story of the Philippine#," br Mont Halstead, commissioned by the Government as Official Historian to the War Department The book was written in army camps at San Francisco, on the Pacific with Gen. Merritt, In the hospitals at Honolula. In Hong Kong, in the American trenches at Manila, in tne lnsurgmt camps with Agninaldo, on the deck of tne Olympda with Dewey, and in the roar of battl 1 at the fall of Manila. Bonanza fer agents. Brin ful of original pictures »► en by governn sat photographers on the rot. Large book. JxD»' prices. Big profits. Freight paid. Credh L-iTwii. Drop all trashy unofficial The deserts of Arabia are specially remarkable for their pillars of sahd, wbich are raised by whirlwinds and have a very olose resemblance in their appearance to waterspouts. De Quiohe aroused himself. He remembered the fluttering white scarf tbat had bade bis foes attack this spot. "Not yet. his garret." "Does be Buffer much?" "Not at all. He is unconscious," reilied Raguenean. I bore him to his room— "Roxane," he cried, "Roxane! I have something to tell you. Listen! The beet salve In the world for out* brniana. sores, ulcers, salt rheum, farm snree, tetter, chapped hands, chilblains corns and all skin ernptlons and positively cures pi ten, or no pay required. It la guar anted to (five perfect satisfaction or money refunded. Price 2ft oents par bo*. For sale by W. 0. Prioa, Plttatoc, aod Q. D w»«« Backlxn's Arnica naif*. "Madame," he cried, stay here!" "yon cannot "1 die. t never more shall watch With wistful eyes the quiet grace With which jqu move your hand to brush Tour little curls or touch your face." The parple deepened into blaok about They watched him strike at hla old foes, the few who loved him, seeing him moment by moment growing weaker. He stopped, breathless. Then, after »pause, he went on: "Oh, bnt I can!" retorted Roxane, still roseate, dimpled, daring, mistress of the situation, qneerD of the men. "Wi not same one roll a dram here? .1 mihl nt moon It. Ah I Thank toil Beyond them was a sonnd of firing. He ceased to speak. Le Bret entered bnrriedly and whispered something in Uyrano's ear. Roxane, cold with a endten sense of danger, looked up. Behind "Yon called a doctor?" It is said that so difficult is the art of cutting gloves that most of the principal cotters are known to the trade by name and by tame. "One came—be was charitable." a MuTf vas acaraely raddy, "My poor Cyrano! Roxane most not learn this too suddenly. What did the lootur sav?" them. Roxane waited. Still h» read «a: "Yea. vou have soatqbed from me PrMtt mil IT W