Plymouth Tribune, Volume 6, Number 6, Plymouth, Marshall County, 15 November 1906 — Page 3

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CHAPTER I. I A wild bleak-looking coast, with huge water-worn promontories jutting out into the sea, dating the tempestuous fury of the waves, which dashed furiously in heets of seething foam against the iron rocks. Two of these headlands ran out for a considerable distance, and at the base of each ragged cruel-looking rocks tretched still further out into the ocean until they entirely disappeared beneath the heaving waste of waters. Suddenly on the red waters there appeared a black ipeck, rising and failing with the restless waves, and ever drawing nearer and nearr to the gloomy cliffs and sandy beach. When within a cfuarte- f a mile of the ahore the specs resolved itself into a boat, a mere shallop, painted a dingy white, and much battered by the waves as it tossed lightly on the crimson waters. It bad one mast and a small sail all torn and patched- In this frail craft were two men, one of whom was kneeling in the prow of the boat shading his eyes from the sunlight with his hands and gazing eagerly at the cliffs, while he other sat in the center with bowed head, in an attitude of resignation, holding the straining sail by a stout rope twisted round his inn. Neither of them spoke a word till within a short distance of the beach, when the man at the lookout arose, tall and gaunt, and stretched out his hands to the inhospitable-looking coast with a harsh exulting laugh. "At last," he cried, in a hoarse, strained voice, and in a foreign tongue; "freedom at las-" The other tnau made no comment on this outburst of his companion, but kept his eyes steadfastly on the bottom of the boat, where lay a small barrel and a bag of mouldy jiiscuits. There was a strong contrast between these two waifs of the sea which the ocean had just thrown up on the desolate coast. One was a tall, slightly built young fellow, apparently about thirty years of age, with leonine masses of reddish colored hair, and a short, stubby beard of the sane tint. His face, pale and attenuated by famine, looked sharp and clever; and his eyes were quite black, with thin, delicately drawn eyebrows above them. They scintillated with a peculiar light which gave any one looking at him an uncomfortable feeling of insecurity. The yoong man's hand.', though hardened and discolored, were yet finely formed, while even the coarse, heavy boots he wore could not disguise the delicacy of his feet. He was dressed in a rough blue suit of clothes, all torn and much stained by sea water, and his head was covered with a red cap of -vool-work which rested lightly on his tang.ed masses of hair. The man at his feet was a rough, heavy-looking fellow, squarely and massively built, with black hair und a heavy beard of the same somber hue His hands were long and sinewy; his feet laige and ungainly; and bis whole appearance was that of a man in a low station of life. No one could have told the color of his eyes, for he -looked obstinately at the ground; and the expression of his face was sullen and forbidding. His companion eyed him. for a short time in a cool, calculating manner, and ther. rose painfully to his feet. "So" he said rapidly in Frenchfi waving his hand toward the frowning cliffs, "so, my Pierre, w? are in the land of promise; though I mu.it confess it certainly does rot look very promising; still, we are oa foj land, and that is something after tossing about so long in that stupid boat, with only a plank between cs and death.' Hah!" with another impressive shrug "why should I call it stupid? It carried us all the way from New Caledonia and landed us safely In what may turn out Paradise. We must not be ungrateful to the bridge that carried us over eh, my friend?" The mn addressed as Pierre nodded an assent, then pointed toward the boat; the other looked up and saw that the tide had risen, and that the boat was drifting slowly away from the land. "It goes, he said coolly, "back again to its proper owner, I suppose. Well, let It. We have no further need of It. We axe no longer convicts from a French prison, my friend, but shipwrecked sailors; you hear?" with a sudden scintillation from his black eyes "shipwrecked sailors; anJ I will tell the story of the wreck. Luckily, I can depend on your discretion, as you have not even a tongue to contradict, which you wouldn't do if If you had. The dumb man rose slowly to his feet and pointed to the cliffs frowning above them. The other answered his thoughts with a careless shrug of the shoulders. "We must climb," he said lightly, "and let ns hope the top will prove less inhospitable than this place. Where we are I don't know, except that this Is Australia ; there I gold here, my friend, and we must get our share of it. We will match our Gallic wit against these English fools, and see who comes off best. You have, strength, I have brains; so we will do great things; but" laying his hand Impressively on tne otner s breast no quarter, no yielding, you see!" He crept along the narrow ledge and scrambled with reat difficulty into a niche above, holding on by the weeds and snarse grasses which grew out of the crannies of the barren crag, r Followed by his companion, he went steadily np, clingIn2 to projecting rocks long trails of tough grass and anything else he could hold on to. Every now and then some aeabird would dash out into their faces with wild cries and nearly cause them to lose their foothold in the sudden start. Then the herbage b'gan to grow more lux urioas and the cliff to slope in an easy incline. At last, after half an hour's hard work, they managed to get to the top, and threw themselves breathlessly on the short dry grass which fringed the rough cliff. Lying there half fainting with fatigue and hunger, they could hear the drowsy tnunder of the waves below. The rest did them good, and in a short time they were able to rise to their feet and survey the situation. In front was the sea, and at the back the grassy un dulating couxtry, dotted here and there with clumps ot trees, now becomin.-r faint and indistinct In 'he rapidly falling shad ows of the night. They could also see hors'.-s and cattle moving in the distant fields, which showed that there must be aome human habitation near, and sudden ly from a far distant house wtich they had not observed shone a brlht light, which became to these weary waifs of the ocean a star of hope. Ther looked at one another in silence. and then the young mau turned toward the ocean again. "Behind." he said, pointing to the east, lies a French prison and two ruined fives yoaw and mine but in front,' winging round to the rich fields, "there Is fortune, food and freedom. Come, my friend, let us follow that light, which Is our star of hope, and who knows what glory may await ns. The old lif" is dead and we start our lives. in this new world with all the bitter experiences of the old to teach nus wisdom come I" And without another wrd he walked slowly down the slope toward the inland, followed by the dumb man with his head still bent and his air of sullen resignation. CHAPTER II. In the early days of Australia, when

C gold fever was at its height and the

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Mid

s marv-dous Melbourne of to-day was more like ai enlarged camp than anything else, there was a man called Robert Curtis, who arrived in the new land of Ophir with many others to seek his fortune. Mr. Cuttis was of good family, but had marr:?d a pretty girl, whose face was her fortune, and who was born, as the story Knjks say, of poor but honest parents. Poverty and honesty, however, were not sufficient recommendations in the eyes of Mr. Curtis, senior, to excuse such a nv?Jch; so he promptly expelled his son from the family circle. That young gentleman and his wife came out to Australia filled with ambition dreams of acquiring a fortune, and then or returning to heap coals of fire on the heads of those who had turned them out. These dreams, however, were destined never to be realized, for within a year after their arrival in Melbourne Mrs. Curtis died giving birth to a little girl, and Robert Curtis found himself once more alone in the world with the incumbrance of a small child. He, however, was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, and did not show much outward grief, though, no doubt, he sorrowed deeply enough for the los3 of the pretty girl for whom he had sacrificed so much. At all events, he madt4 up his mind at once what to do; so, placing his child under the care of an old lady, he went to Hallarat, and set to work to make his fortune. He succeeded beyond even his own expectations. Miss Curtis became the belle of Melbourne, and soon had crowds of suitors around her. Her father, however, dt;ermined to find a husband for her whom he could trust, and was looking for one when he suddenly died, leaving his daughter an orphan and a wealthy woman. Her suitors numerous and persistent soon returned to her feet. One of these, a penniless young Englishman called Randolph Villiers, paid her Buch marked attention that in the end Miss -Curtis, contrary t the wishes of her friends, martied hlin. As soon as Villiers found himself in full possession of his wife's fortune he immediately proceeded to spend all the money he could lay his hands oti. lie gambled away large sums of money at his club, he bet extensively on the turf. Mrs. Villiers put up with this conduct for some time, but when Villiers actually proceeded to ill treat her in order to force her to give up the money her father had settled on her, she rebelled. She tore off hor wedding ring, threw it at his feet, renounced his name, and went to Rallarat with her old nurse and the remnants of Ikt fortune. She was of too restless and ambitious a nature to be content with an idle life, a d though the money she still possessed was sufficient to support her in comfort, yet she felt that she must do something. if only to keep her thoughts from dwelling on those bitter years of married life. The most obvious thing to do in Dallarat was to go in for gold mining.' and chance hav ing thrown in her way a mate of her father ri, she determined to devote herself to thar, being influenced in her decision by the old digger. This man, by name Archibald Mcintosh, was a shrewd, hardheaded Scotchman, who had been in Rallarat when the diggings, were in the height of their fame, and who knew all about the lie of the country and where the richest leads had been in the old days. He' told Mrs. Villiers that her father and himself had worked together on a lead then known as the Devil's Lead, which was one of the liehest ever discovered in the district. Fortunately the place where it was sit uated had not been renowned for gold in the early days, and It had passed into the hands of a man who used it as pasture land, quite ignorant of the wealth which lay beneath. When Mrs. Villiers came up to Dallarat this man wanted to sell the land ; so. acting under the urgent advice of Mcintosh, she sold out all the investments which she had and purcaaed the whole tract of country where the old miner assured ner solemnly the Deril's Lead was to be found. Then he built a house near the mine. and taking her old nurse, Selina Sprotts, and Archibald Mcintosh to live with her, j-ank a shaft in the place indicated by the latter. People who heard of her taking theJand were astonished at first, but they soon began to admire the plucky way in which she fought down her ill-luck for the first year of her venture. All at once matters changed ; she made a lucky spec ulation i l the share' market, and the I'aictolus claim began to pay. Mrs. Villiers became mixed up in mining matters, and bought and sold on 'Change with such foresight and promptitude of action that she soon began to make a lot of money. Stock brokers, struck with her persistent good fortune, christened her Madame Mi das, after that Greek king whose touch turned everything into wld. When Mr. Villiers tnerefore arrived in Dallarat he found his wife universally respected and widely known as Madame Midas, bo he went to see her. expecting to be kept in luxurious ease for the rest of his life. He soon, however, found himself mistaken, for his wife told him plainly she would have nothing to dd with him, and that if he dared to show his face at the Pactolus claim she' would have him turned off by her men. He threatened to bring the law into force to make her live wuu mm, uui sue laugueu iu ins iace, and i 'J i - i t ! 'a. I am sue wuum uring a uivurce suit ngainst him if he did so; and as Mr. Villiers character could hardly bear the light of day, he retreated, leaving Madame in full possession of the field. lie stayed, however, in Baliarat, and took up stock broking living a k'nd of hand-to-mouth existence, bragging of his former splendor, and grumbling at his wife for what he phased to call her cruelty. Every now and then he would pay a visit to tie Pactolus, and try to see her, but Mcintosh was a vigilant guard, and the miserable creature was always compelled to- go back to his Bohemian life w'thout accomplishing his object of getting money from the wife he had deserted. People talked, of course, but Madame did not mind. She had tried married life, and Lad been disappointed ; her old ideas of belief in human nature had passed away ; in short, the girl who had been the belle of Melbourne as Miss Curtis and : Mrs. Villiers had disappeared, and the j Ftern, clever, cynical woman who manag ed the Pactolus claim was a new being called "Madame Midas."

1 Torxible" Mintake. CHAPTER III. -We wisb," wrote the editor of the Every one has heard of the oldest in- Tartown Transcript, "to correct an cr-habitant-that wonderful piece of antiq-, which crept Into our Issue of last uity, with white hair, garrulous tongue , , . . . . . . . ;' . . ' , week. In describing the unfortunate and cast-iron memory who was bora . " ,Tit wi t with the past century and remembers the runaway accident in Main street, we battle of Waterloo, and the invention of wrote: 'While awaiting the arrival the steam engine. ' of the ambulance. Dr. Skinner, who Baliarat, no doubt, possesses many of vvas fortunately present, took the vlc-

Ihese precious pieces of antiquity hidden in obscure corners, but one especially was known, not only in the Golden City but throughout Victoria. His name was Slivers plain Slivers, as he said himself und. from ft nhvslcal noint of view, he cer tainly spoke the truth. What his Christian name was no one ever knew; he called himself Slivers, and so did every one else Slivers was reputed rich, and Arabian Nights like torles were told of hi bound-'

less wealth, but no one ever knew th exact amount of money he had, and as Slivers never volunteered any information t.n the subject, no one ever did know. He was a small, wizen-looking little man, who usually wore a suit of clothes a size too large for him. wherein scandal mongers averred his body rattled like a dried pea in a pod. His hair was whit?, and tringed the lower portion of Lis yellow little scalp in a most deceptive fashion. With his hat on Slivers looked sixty; take it off and his bald head immediately a,dded ten years to his existence. His one eye was bright and sharp, of a grayish color, and the loss of the other was replaced by a greasy black patch, which guve him a sinister appearacce. He was clean shaved, and had no teth. He carried on the business of a milling agent, and knowing all about the country and the intricacies of the mines, he was one of the cleverest speculators in Dallarat. The office of Slivers was in Sturt street, in a dirty, tumble-down cottagq wedged between two handsome modern buildings. It was a remnant of old Ralj larat, which had survived the rage fo? new houses and highly ornamented teri races. The warm sunlight poured through th dingy windows of the office, and filled thi dark room with a sort of sor.ber glory-. The atmosphere of Slivers office was thick and dusty. Slivers had pushed all the scrip and loose papers away, and was writing a letter in the little clearing caused by their removal. On the old-fashioned ink stand was a paper full of grains of gold. Billy, a parrot, seated on Slivers shoulders, was astonished at this, and, inspired by a spirit of adventure, he climbed down and waddled clumsily across the "table to the inkstand, where he seized a small nugget in his beak and made off with it. Slivers looked up from his writing suddenly ; so, being detected, Dilly stopped and looked at him, still carvying the nugget in his beak. (To be continued.)

Self-Rescuer. In shallow-water navigation the Western world can teach the Chinese little. They have by centuries of practice simplified the methods of use of their many rivers, sa)-s the author of "The Reshaping of the Far East." It was on a tributary of the Yangtze, a broad and shallow and treacherous stream, that he came across a new genus of juuk, the self-rescuer. Tiiere are many kinds cf junks In China, from the huge, lumbering sea-junk, which looks like a galleon of other days, to the wnsp-waisted river-Junk which sails the great canal. Hut to the Western traveler this one was new. It was a double junk, a junk which. could be split in two. Midships It was only chained together In a priinltlvq way, and by releasing certain bolts it could 'be divided into halves, the stern floating one way and the stem another. Coming down-stream It often happens that a heavy junk "piles up" on some sand-bar, and defies all efforts to float It off again, for here water is counted by Inches. Then it Is only necessary' to unchain the after half, sail It away and unload it, float It alongside the forward half again, and unload from one into the other until the first half, much lightened, can be pushed off. Then they are rechained and the Journey resumed. The junkmen, squatting on their haunches, explained to the traveler that this was really a verydry country, and not a water country at all, and that to navigate where there is neldoui more than fifteen to twenty Inches of water needs special measures. Knonn by Inatlnrt. To understand war, says the author of A People at School," is an Instinct. To Illustrate the aphorism, lie tells a story of an English general whose understanding of sounds was phenomenal. One night, he says, after dinner they were all sitting talking at headquarters. They were expecting an attach and sentries and pickets -were posted far out beyond the stockade. Suddenly we heard one shot; of course every one Jumped up. Tiie bugles sounded ; the men fell in ; the officers ran to their posts. General Symons alone had not moved. After listening Intently for a moment or two, be bad sat down again. I myself was between two minds, whether to go out with one of the parties hastily assembling outside, or to stay with the general. So I stocd Irresolutely by the do jr. Vou can sit down," said Symons; lt Is nothing. A sentry has let off bis rifle by accident. That Is all." So It proved. While be was leaning upon Iiis rifle It had gone off, and so had his fingers. ItrarlnK , aolhrr'a Bürde. That it is not Impossible to ring a new change on .woman's aversion to telling her correct age has been prove by the rector of a New York church. He does'not appear to be more than ZA) years old, but declared to an Inqulrj lug parishioner that he was 75, and added. "I shall be 77 my next birthday. The other evening," he explained, "my w lfe and I computed that our combined ages foot up to one hundred years. Now, of course, no lady Is ever over 2T years old, so to keep peace In the family I suppose I must say I'm 75." "But why will you be seventy-seven your next birthday?" "Hivnuse mv wife's birthdav and I mine nappen tu fall ou the game date. and" with a sigh of resignation "of course I shall have to shoulder both of them." AVhr Kelly- Li-hed. Iiascball cranks w.Ii all remember with pleasure the late "Mike" Kelly, the star attraction of the famous 15 ostons, then champions of the National League. The Hustons were playing In a western city, and had Just returned to their hotel after the game, and the members of the team were separating and going to their rooms while Kelly beaded for the bathroom to take his regular "rub down." A few minutes later one of the other players on the team, while passing down the corridor, heard Kelly's well known laugh Inside the bathroom, and stopped at the, door and asked Kelly what the Joke was. Kelly replied : "This Is the Gnt time I ever got out of the bath tub without stepping on the soap." tim'8 pulse." It was the printer who carelessly changed the T In the last word to r. We make the correction in Justice to Dr. Skinner, whose fees are always moderate and who nev?r presents a bill In advance, Jed Kimball's drug' store.' Office ovr , , ; r ; I It's a vlse woman who knows Just when to stop talking and turn on the flow et briny tears.

! Bill if iShS

Wife Should Study Her Hatband. "I wish girls could all be made to understand how' important It Is for them to study their husbands, and never stop; to know how they will be repaid if they do so, and if they try to realize that they are one, yet with two different natures, and see if they can not make, the new nature part of their own, and adapt their Ideas to each other. "Oh, how close together you can grow, and how far apart you could get if you didn't stop to think and try to understand each' other 1 I know how much I have to thank a good mother for, and I see so many young married people who seem to be gradually pulling apart without knowing the reason why. "Never hesitate, girls, to speak frankly, In a good, friendly way, about anything. Discuss everything you ,are In doubt about, and make him understand that it Is the little things that count with women. If he forgets some of his little attentions after you are married, don't keep your grievance to yourself; tell him of it and ask him to try to remember that it Is these little things that go to make up your happiness. "Tell blni In a nice way and you will find that, if you are as considerate of his thoughts and feelings be will gradually get where the little things are never forgotten, and you will find your lives growing closer all the time, and love for you greater Instead of less. I have proved it and I speak from my own happiness, and four years of trying hard to live up to my mother's precepts." Good Housekeeping. Malen Kxeeed Female. In the Ja-hrbuch, published by the German government. It is stated that the only countries In Europe In whlcii the number of males exceeds the females are Servla, Roumanla. Ilulgarla and Greece. The Teutonic, Latin and Slav nations have a slight excess of females, which la often only a few thouThe new evening modes are of the daintiest and most delightful description, with plcturesqueness of effect for sand, and rarely as much as SOO.tKrO. The United States. Canada, nrar.il, Argentine, Uruguay and other countries have an excess of males. In the Philippines tbe males are In excess. Krrdlewurk Note. Lace gowns for evening are being trimmed with quillings and flower designs of narrow satin ribbo. Wheu fitting a lining, always open It at the under-nrm soani to remove for alterations, leaving tbe front pinned together. Scallop embroidery Is In favor for pet&oats. The designs of a century ago are resurrected by those who are fortunate enough to possess them. Pretty glove garters are easily homemade by shirring ribbon over an elastic bund and finishing It with a u-sette of soft loops. To make It very attractive knot the ribbon before looping It. Work for the Fireside. One of the popular "fireside" Industries which the clubwomen of Missouri are trying to revive Is weaving, and a pretty 'oeeiipr.tlon for winter evening In the country is the weaving of portieres. The darkest bands should be at the bottom, and the colors should become lighter toward the top. Handy table looms may be bought for the smali sum of $12, and women will find It easy to use up thefr scraps of silk and otber material In making rugs and portieres that will be quite artistic when finished, especially now when they are so fashionable. Change of Work Profitable. A writer In a Baltimore paper tells of two school teachers who took up an abandoned farm near a summer resort, raised honey and ducks and In a fewyears saved money enough for one of them to marry and support' a husband. The husband had his smoking and billiard room so arranged that he was not annoyed by the cackling of the ducks, and the success of the venture In every respect proved that abandoned farms are much to be preferred to school teaching. Overaktrta Again. How fashionable dressmakers do enJoy making poor woman miserable! They now assert that oversklrts are coming "in," and although a more uncsthetlc sartorial style never afflicted civilization, that does not keep the garnint from being admired by the powers of the fashionable world. A brown

crepe de chine costume just received from Paris demonstrates the oversklrt vogue. It Is made with three bias ruffles around the bottom of the full petticoat. Over this. In thin cloth of the same shade, are draped two deep points, one back and the other front, the points falling to the bottom of the skirt, the drapery at one side going half way to the knees before It slopes awny to the back and front. With tbe approach of winter It Is prayed that the oversklrt may bo hauled in and a more simple effect prevail.

Walking Cwtamti, The crstume at the left is of dark blue cloth. The princess or corselet skirt Is made with plaits which open out below the hips. The blouse, cd batiste or linen. Is covered with a pelerine of the blue cloth composed of two collars, the upper one bordered with a band velvet to match, the whole fastened with a knot of velvet with goid buckle. The sleeves are finished with their keynote, and a. very wide- rarlety from which to choose in tho way of shape and design, style and color. Everything that is becoming is permissible, and no bard and fast rules are laid down as to the shape of n bodice or the cut of a skirt It will be a difficult Reason, no doubt, for tbe dressmakers, since so much will be left to them to originate and design, but trie general result btds fair to le eminently cuffs of the material, ornamented with bands and knots of the velvet. The skirt of the second costume Is of Scotch plaid, plaited over the hips and finished at the bottom with a wide band of the same. TLe blouse , and sleeves are of tlie plaid, and the bolero Is of velvet bordered with a shaped band of the same nnd trimmed with soutache. The waistcoat, rolling collar, revers and girdle are of leather, colored cloth or silk, the last two ornamented with embroidery or guipure. Bias folds of the material are found In many striied frocks. ' Black hats with long white feathers are a pronounced success. Plain colored wqpl serges, mohairs and plaids are all fashionable for little girls school frocks. Held In place by a single great ras. is a popular method of placing the ostrich idume on the hat. Skirts fit snugly over the hips, even though laid iu tucks and plaits, but they llure very much over the feet. The principal change in ble.uses Is a gradual turning from handkerchief linen and batiste to lace and chiffon for autumn wear. Iu using braids, note that the wide silk kinds should be the color of the cloth, while In soutache black1 on color Is allowable. Many hat frames are covered with silk, moire, creiM? or some equally light fabric, and even the velvets are often faced with chiffon or silk. The felts, too, are not c,f a heavy quality. The new laces and braid trimmings are really almost regal. Many of the laces are outlined In gold thread; others have applique-flowered designs In silk of delicate Dresden shades. Suitings In broken checks and Indistinct stripes, sho.wing a black satin overstripe, will be among the novelty materials. The ground colorings will be very effective, In dark combinations of blues, greens, deep reds, etc. The new linen collar and cuff sets

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are anything but mannish. They Indicate more than anything else woman's return to the frills and furbelows attributed to her sex. Ixmdon women are making a tremendous vogue for purple In all shades, even for their houses. They are selecting cretonnes and wall papers with floral designs in purple. One hat met had .a succession of three little green velvet bows mounted on a wire one above the other, right in front, and this little upright ladder effect was really very good. The cut of the blouse is the essential point In Its make-up. No matter how pretty the material Is or how gracefully trimmed. It must be well cut to pass the critical eye of Mine. Mode.

Month In Which to Marry. Girls who are to be married this fall may be interested in the rhyme for autumn weddings: Married In gold September's glow, smooth and serene your life will flow ; Married when leaves in October thin toil and hardship you begin ; Married in veils of November-. mist,. Fortune your wedding ring has kissed ; Married in days of December cheer. Love's star shines brighter from year to year. Look After the Nails. The ugliest nails can be Improved by taking the trouble to push back the hard skin that grows at the base of the nails. This should be done after the bands bare been washed in warm soap and water and are still moist. A soft towel Is the best thing tq use for the purpose, or an Ivory or bone implement, such as Is sold in manicure sets. To Teach Ilounrhold Science. Mrs. Tom L. Johnson, wife of the Mayor of Cleveland, Is one of the many wealthy and prominent women of that satisfactory since individual taste will have a chance of asserting Itself. As to the materials which will le most In evidence, silks and satins of the softest texture will lead the way, made up In the simplest style Imaginable, with long flowing skirts, all Innocent of any kind of trimming, beyond perhaps a velvet hem. In a darker shade of the same color,' as that of tbe gown city who are backing a training school In household science. la two resiects the school Is a novelty. In the first place, it offers to board its students free, and In the second. It proposes to fit Its pupils with special reference to service in twmes of luxury. Among other things they are- to study the deportment proper to such a.i environment. Only girls who com duly reo ommeuded will bo accepted. Monument to Pocahonta. At last Pocahontas Is likely to have a monument, there having been for years much talk on tbe subject. Among her descendants are the Ilandolpb Fairfax and Cabel families of Virginia, and they, with other descendants In other parts of the country, have decided to erect tbe monument. Teu thousand dollars have been raised to that end. ' The Wind and the WIdovr. In Sumatra tbe wind decides the length of time a widow shall remain single. Just after her husb.-uidy death she plants a flagstaff at her door, uion which a flag Is raised. While the flag remains untoru by the wind the etiquette of Sumatra forbids her to marry; but at the first rent, however tiny, she can lay aside her weeds' and accept the first man who presents himself. Brethren Are Criticised. The Woman's Journal comments on the fact that .oiue of the Methodist brethren object to a woman's attending the general conference on the, ground that her place Is at home; and yet they have no objection to her going over seas as n missionary, ijossihly to be eaten by cannibals, at any rate, to suffer great hardships. What They Are Dolnv. Some of the things that club women are doing throughout the country art very edifying. The children of St. Paul, Minn., through the efforts of the Thursday Morning Club, have set out 14.000 fruit trees. In Beaufort, S. C.,. the club women have succeeded in having twenty-five miles of hard shell road bordered with bade trees. Sad Lot of Ilaaalan Girl Student. There is said to be terrible distress among . the Uussian girl students it French universities. Their families are ruined by tho, recent disturbances, are unable to send them money, and some of them are subsisting on a few cents a day. '

The Trail of the Dead: ää THE STRANGE EXPERirJVCE OF DR.. ROBERT MARLAND

By B. FLETCHER ROBINSON (Copyrllht. 1905. by CHAPTER XXV. (Continued.) I was nervous that night, and about one in the morning I thought I heard a noise in the passage outside. Very cautiously I opened my door and peeped out. My father's door was the next to mine, and between the two bay Reski In a great fur rug that he had. lie waved his hand to me with a little smile, as if I were a child he was bidding to be of good courage. I slept undisturbed after that. It was as we took our place for a twelve o'clock dejeuner that we received the second telegram. This is how it read: "If danger presses, communicate fully police. We started oa receipt of your message, and will be at Thusis by three. Should be at Pontresina at one o'clock to-night. Order rooms.' Graden." I called in Iteski at once; for he had refused to have his meals with us, though my father had invited him. lie looked very grave,, indeed, when I translated the message. "You sent no telegram, Fräulein?" "No, Herr Iteski." "Nor you, mein Herr?" "No, Reski, no," said my father. "Then someone has sent it in your name. I do not like it. It would seem trap." "A trapTr I stared at him with fear gathering about my heart. Who had done this thing? And why? "It would seem, Fraulein, some scheme of the old grey devil. What he intends, I cannot guess; nor can I think how he discovered that we are here. But there is a thing plainly to do. I will start for ; Thusis, to warn those who are hastening to us." "I will come with you, Iteski," said my father. "You 'know that cannot be. I have no fear., with Reski to protect . me. I will go." Love gives great strength to woman, and I spoke as one who expects to be obeyed. It was much trouble to persuade them; yet from the first I did not mean to yield. My dear father had barely recovered from the fatigues of his long journey; to let him take this drive of forty miles would be the gravest folly. Yet it was not right that we both should leave oar duty to a man of whom we had no real knowledge. Mr. Ilarland and his cousin had endangered their lives to save us; now that peril seemed to be closing round those gallant gentlemen, we could not both sit idle. Plainly it was I who should go. And so at last it was agreed between os. It was shortly after one o'clock when Reski and I rumbled off in our post-carriage across the snow-bound slopes of the valley to Ponte. Then began a climb of dreary monotony. Up and up wo dragged, turn after turn through forests of larch and pine, with the Engadine growing wider, and its houses sinking into specks beneath us. At last we reached the crest of the Albula Pass, and trotted forward over the snow levels till we plunged down the steep descent of. the rock-strewn Devil's Hall as the mountaineers named it of old. The sun had set ere we rattled into Breda, and the moon had swung out from the southward when ltergun was reached. Half an hour later we had passed through the forests into the-shadows of that black and dangerous gorge the Berguner Stein. Fresh snow had clogged the road on the Albula, and wc had made slow progress, to our increasing anxiety. It was now impossible that we should reach Thusis before they started; but we had calculated that near Tiefeakastell wo might meet them. That the suow had not fallen so deeply ou the lower slopes, and that they had moved more quickly, "e could not know. We had passed the last bead that turned upward, . leading in a long slope to the entrance of the gorge, when we stopped suddenly, lleski sprang, out; clambering after, I found him by the driver, who was pointing with his whip up the road. The man had been warned to give us notice of any approaching vehicle. "It is a post-carriage," he said. 'They have stopped to breathe their team." The road had been carved and joisted along the cliff side, and where we ßtood, under the mighty wall of rock, the shad, ows were- gathered darkly. To our left the rugged barrier rose dimly Into the night, clear only where' its battlements broke the pearl of the sky at some great height above us; to our right, a low stone coping hid the grim uncertainties of the precipice. But fifty yards up the slope the cliffs fell back, and tbe road stepped out into the silver moonlight, mounting the hill, through a border of stunted trees,, in. a. simple curve, as white and well defined, as a chalk mark on a blackboard. On. its crest I could see the patch on the snow carpet that marked the waiting carriage. It was, perhaps, the half of a mile away. CHAPTER XXVI. The patch of shadow moved slowly forwards Suddenly, though distance hid the suggestion of the cause, the pace increased. Faster and yet faster it swept down the road; in the white silence of the night tha muffled hoof-beats came thumping to our cars. The carriage grew clearer. We could see hw it rocked; it might .have been some great ball that flew bounding towards us. For some moments we had stood motionless, helpless, before this amazing apparition. It was Reski who first understood; it was he w'io seized me by the t,rm, screaming in his excitement to- run to run down the way we had come. And In my panic I obeyed, flying wildly towards the sharp bend in our rear. I had. almost reached it when there came a thought to me that jostled out the remembrance of my own safety, turning fhe back, with heaven knows what anxiety in my heart. Robert and Sir Henrycould they be the travelers that came galloping to almost certain death? Tbe runaways had but one chance to hug the cliff, thereby giving space to dear the turn without charging the low wall that guarded the unknown depths of the gorge. But to ray horror, I saw that this was a chance our driver was preventing, for it was he who had edged his team against the cliff. They would have to pass him on the outer side. I started np the road, shouting to him; but as I did so, I saw Reski spring upon the box. I heard cries of furious altercation, and then the driver was thrown from his place. He dropped on hands and knees; then rose and came running past me round the bend. The whip cracked, and our team swung across the road, drawing up on the edge of the precipice. If the man who drove the runaways were not struck with terror, they had yet a hope of safety. They were not one hundred yards away. I could see ia the bright moonlight how the horses bounded f orward, the traces now slackening, now tightening to the desperate plunges. Seventy yards and the driver had gone mad. He was waving his arms and shrieking, not In terror, but rather iu whoops of joyous exultation. It was a fearful thing to see those gestures and to hear those wild imprecations when death was so very near. Another second, and they were la the shadows, close upon us. And Reski? I had almost forgotten

him. Bllff as a loldier upon duty ho fat,

and J. MALCOLM fRASLR Joseph B. Bowles)

the reins tight In his band, looking neither to right nor left, waiting the fate tha might come to him. It was only thus that ho could hold his team in their place only thus, at the risk of instant annihilation. Did he dare this for ths simple love of his neighbor? Did instinct tell him that they were indeed our friends? God rest him, whether or no! for by whatever rank men knew him, he was a most honorable gentleman. Like a flash of light striking through ' darkness, I realized that the runaways were still holding the outer edge of tho road; that it must happen that there waa no escape. And as I did so, there came a crushing, rending shriek that filled the whole air like the falling of a thunderbolt. Dimly I saw the great carriages collide, rebound and then but one remained. The spirit went out of me. I covered my face with my hands, crouching against the cliff, praying to heaven that at least the screamiag of th horses might soon be ended. : f How long I stayed there I do not know, but . I was roused by footsteps passing before me. I started up with a cry "I beg your pardon, madam," said a well-known voice. "Gad; if it Isn't Mary Weston!" It was Sir Henry; but what was that be carried in bis arms? "Who is itr I asked, pointing. "It is Robert," he answered gravely. "He has had a nasty tap on his head; I'm afraid. If you will look to him, MLs Mary, I will go back and shoot those poor beasts of horses." They found them next morning, lying close together at the foot of the precipice. They told me that their faces wer curious to see, for Ma mac still grinned with the vacancy of his insanity,, and Reski wore also & happy smile, yet one most öiffeient, for it was such as those tarry who die in a noble effort, covering their memory with honor. For as Sir TTnrr Im Tnlninfwl t tx-a Ttoati irhn saved their lives. They could never eis have cleared the bend of the road. As it was, when their leading horse jumped the wall, his weight swung their carriage round, striking the other on the side, so that while they were left, battered, oa the edge, with one horse dangling until the harness broke Reski, his carriage and his team, were hurled over the cliff. Marnac had already been flung to destruction at the first impact. We learned in time the d"' tails of bis insane scheme. A heavy bribe had won the help of the Cornish loafer though, to be honest with him, the man Lad no suspicion of the evil purpose to which his telegrams would be placed. From poor Martha, Jove-lorn and middle-aged, he had gathered his news. It was Marnac who had sent the further telegrams to Sir Heury, calculating well the time at which they could arrive. He had stayed at the village of Alvaneu, and when the carriage passed it, had begged a lift as far as Bergun, a request granted readily enough by their driver. The poor fellow had beea struck on the head at the entrance of the gorge, and so thrown from his place. He had not been seriously injured, and, indeed, was of much assistance to us all later ia that evening. I must add that Sir Henry dispatched the whole of the great reward he bad offered to Reski's next of kin. They were but distant relatives, as his wife was dead, and it had been his only son that Marnac murdered. So ended the ctory that Robert, rightly enough, has named "The Trail of tho Dead," for indeed it was a blood-stained path. I would Lave had Robert himself to conclude it, hut that he insists that there is no necessity. One thing only does he ask that I should add though, indeed, it is a matter that will have been already guessed. To plea4 him, I will write it down. Robert and I were married in June. (The End.) SUMMER CARE OF FURS. Here Is an Excellent Method for tbo Housewife to Lue. One of the spring duties most dreadOil by tbe housewife Is tbe rutting away of winter furs, on account of the unsatlsfactoriness of so many methods. Tbe Housekeeper publlsheJ-an excellent am! tried method for the care of furs. which, will be widely appreciated. A . ,.. t - it . i. . n spring approaches it is weu iu w the alert against the Insidious moth, as this Is tbe time of year she deposits her eggs. It is the maggot of tbe moth, and not the little silver-winged Insect with which we are all familiar, which is so destructive to furs. To prevent the ravages of this insect. furs before belagr put away should b lightly beaten with a thin rattan care being, taken, not to break the hair and allowed to hang in the sun for several hours. They should then be combed with a clean comb, wrapped in news paper and put In a chest lined with tin or cedar. Unbleached niuslhs bags are a good substitute when chests are not available. The use of camphor Is dele terious, as Ln the case of the dark furs sable, for Instance It has a decided tendency to impair the richness of Its coloring, and the darker the sable the more beautiful and valuable it is. The printer's ink oa the newspaper is equally effective as camphor In keeping out the winged moth and will not In the least Impair the color. When It is found nececsary to clean the fur before putting It avray, the fol lowing method, culled from a grand mother's notebook, has been found most effective: First, brush with a good, stiff brushHave ready a Quantity of new bran. whlcb has been thoroughly heated. This will require constant stirring to prevent Its scorching. When well heated the bran should be thoroughly rubbed Into the fur with the hands. This operation should be repeated two or three times. The fur should then be taken and ef fectively brushed until not a particle of dust remains. Ermine and other white furs can be cleaned In like manner, substituting Hour for the bran, and rubbing against the trend of the fur. If very much soiled, the fur should be laid away for a day or two in a closed compartment after tho flour has been well rubbed In. Printed Paper. A scum No, I don't know him, but he seems like a "very successful man. Kidder Oh, his success Is all on paper. Ascum Indeed? Too mean Kidder I mean he's a popular nor eilst. Philadelphia Press. taute for Complaint. Meeker Yes, my wife always speaks her mind, but Bleeker Well? Meeker I wouldn't object to that 11 she would only stop when he tea ta fhA r-M of it. "7