The Syracuse Journal, Volume 3, Number 49, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 6 April 1911 — Page 7

1/2 story £\l The Courage of Captain Plum m*<vw SSSSSSSSESSSES ■*■■■■ By JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD 'h'\ (Copyright 1908 by Bubba-Merrill Co.) 23 •SYNOPSIS. Capt. Nathaniel Plum, of the sloop Typhoon, lands secretly on Beaver island, stronghold of the Mormons. Obadiah Mormon councilor, confronts him, tells him he is expected, and bargains for the ammunition aboard the sloop. He binds Nat by a solemn oath to deliver a package to Franklin Pierce, president of 'the United States. Near Price’s cabin Nat sees the frightened face of a young woman who disappears in the darkness, leaving an odor of lilacs. It develops that Nat’s visit to the island is to demand settlement of the king, Strang, for the looting of liis sloop by Mormons. Price shows Nat the king's palace, and through a window he sees the lady of the lilacs, who Price says is the king’s seventh wife. Calling at the king’s office Nat is warned by a young woman that his life is in danger. Strang professes indignation when he hears Nat’s grievance and promises to punish the guilty. Nat rescues Neil, who is being publicly whipped, and the king orders the sheriff, Arbor Croche, to pursue and kill the two men. Plum learns that Marion, the girl of the lilacs, is Neil’s sister. The two men plan to escape on Nat’s sloop and take Marion and Winnsome, daughter of Arbor Croche, and sweetheart of Neil. Nat discovers that the sloop is gorie. Marion tells him that his ship has been seized by the Mormons. She begs him to leave the island, telling him that nothing can save her from Strang, whom she is doomed to marry. Plum finds Price raving mad. Recovering, he-tells Nat that Strang is doomed, that armed men are descending on the island. Nat learns that Marlon has been summoned to the castle by Strang. Nat kills Arbor Croche, and after a desperate fight with the king, leaves him for dead. The avenging host from the mainland descends on St. James. Neil and Nat take a part in the battle and the latter is wounded. Strang, whom Nat thought he had killed, orders him thrown into a dungeon. He finds Neil a fellow prisoner. They overhear the Mormon jury deciding their fate. A bribed jailer brings the prisoners word of Winnsome and Marlon. Bound and gagged the two men are taken out to sea in a boat. They are left to suffer the “straight death" on a wild section of the coast. Just as they had given up hope the men are rescued by Marlon and Winnsome. Nat taints, and when he recovers Marion is gone, CHAPTER XII. V — Marion Freed From Bondage. •‘Gone!” moaned Winnsome again. “She has gone—back—to—Strang!” Neil was crawling to them like a wounded animal across the sand. She started toward him but Nathaniel stopped her. “She is the king’s—wife—” His throat was swollen so that he could hardly speak. “Nd. They are to be married tonight. Oh, I thought she was going to stay!” She tore herself away from him to go to Neil, who had fallen upon his face exhausted, a dozen yards away. In the wet sand, where the incoming waves lapped his hands and feet, Nathaniel sank down, his eyes staring out into the shimmering distance where Marion had gone. His brain was in a daze, and he wondered if he had been stricken by some strange madness—if this all was but some passing phantasm that would soon leave him again to his misery and his despair. But the dash of the cold water against him cleared away his doubt. Marion had come to him. She had saved him from death. And now she was gone. And she was hot the king’s wife! He staggered to his feet again and plunged into the lake until the water reached to his waist, calling her name, entreating her in weak, half choked cries to come back to him. The water soaked through to his hot, numb body, restoring his reasdn and strength, and he buried his face in it and drank like one who had been near to dying of thirst. Then he returned to Neil. Winnsome was holding his head in her arms. He dropped upon his knees beside them and saw that life was returning full and strong in Neil’s face. “You will be able to walk in a few minutes,” be said. “You and Winnsome must leave here. We are on the mainland and if you follow the shore northward you will come to the settlements. I am going back for Marion.” Neil made an effort to follow him as he rose to his feet. “N at —Nat —wait —” Winnsome held r him back, frightened, tightening her arms about him. “You must go with Winnsome,” Nell stretched up to him. “You must take her to the first settlement up the coast. I will come back to you with Marion.” He spoke confidently, as a man who sees his way open clearly before him, and yet as he turned, half running, to the low black shadow of the distant forest he knew that he was beginning a blind fight against fate. If he could find a hunter’s cabin, a fisherman’s shanty—a boat Barely had he disappeared when a voice called to him. It was Winnsome The girl ran up to him holding something in her hand. It was a pistol “You may need it!” she exclaimed. “We brought two!’* •than! el reached out hesitatingly, to take the weapon. Gently,

as though his touch was about to fall upon some fragile dower, he drew the girl to hill, took Ibr Mautiful face between his tw*' strong hands and gazed steadily and silently for a moment into her t zes. “God bless you, little Winnsome!” he whispered “I hope that some day you will —forgive ’ The girl understood him. “If I have anything to forgive—you are forgiven.” The pistol dropped upon the sand, her hands’stole to his shoulders. I “I want you to take something to ! Marion for me,” she whispered softly. ' “This!” And she kissed him. Her eyes shone upon him like a benediction. “You have given me a new life, you have given me —Neil! My prayers are with you.” And kissing him again, she slipped away from under his hanjls before he could speak. And Nathaniel, following her with his eyes until he could no longer see : her, picked up the pistol and set off again toward the forest, the touch of her lips and the prayers of this girl whose father fie had slain filling him with something that was more than strength, more than hope. He examined the pistol that Winnsome had given him. There were five shots in it and he smiled joyously as he saw that it had been loaded by an experienced hand. It would be easy enough for him to find Strang. For hours he trod steadily through the sand. The sun rose above him, hot and blistering? and the dunes still stretched out ahead of him, like winnows and hills and mountains of glittering glass. Gradually the desert became narrower. Far ahead he could see where the forest came down to the shore and his heart grew ; lighter. Half an hour later he entered the margin of trees. Almost immediately he found signs of life. A tree had been felled and cut into wood. A short distance beyond he; came suddenly upon a narrow path, beaten hard by the passing of feet, and leading toward the lake. He had meant to rest under the shade of these trees, but now he forgot his fatigue. For a moment he hesitated. Far back in the forest he heard the barking of a dog—but he turned in the opposite direction. If there was a For Hours He Trod Steadily Through the Sand. boat the path would take him to it. Through a break in the trees he caught the green sweep of marsh rice and his heart beat excitedly with hope. Where there was rice there were wild fowl, and surely where there were wild fowl there would be a punt or a canoe! In his eagerness he ran, and where the path ended, the flags and rice beaten into the mud and water, he stopped with an exultant cry. At his feet was a canoe. It was wet, as though just drawn out of the water, and a freshly used paddle was lying across the bow. Pausing but to take a quick and cautious glance about him he shoved the frail craft into the lake and with a few quiet strokes buried himself in the rice grass. When he emerged from it he was half a mile from the shore. For a long time he sat motionless, looking out over the shimmering sea. Far to the south and west he could make out the dim outline of Beaver island, while over the trail he had come, mile upon mile, lay the glistening dunes. Somewhere between the white desert sand and that distant coast of the Mormon kingdom Marion was making her way back to bondage. Nathaniel had given up all hope of overtaking her now. Long before he could intercept her she would have reached the island. When he started again he paddled slowly, and laid out for himself the plan that he was to follow. There must be no mistake this time, no yror in judgment, no rashness in his daring. He would lie in hiding until dusk, and then under cover of darkness he would hunt down Strang and kill him. After that he would fly to his canoe and escape. A little later, perhaps that very night if fate played the game well for him, he would return for MarionThe sun mounted straight and hot over his head; he paddled more slowly, and rested more frequently, as it descended into the west, but it still lacked two hours of sinking behind the island forest when the white wa-ter-rim of the shore came within his vision. He had meant to-hold off the coast until the approach of evening, but changed his mind and landed, concealing his canoe in a spot which he marked well, for he knew it would soon be useful to him again. Deep shadows were already gathering in the forest and through these Nathaniel made his way slowly in ths direction of St James. He came out In the strip densv forest between ths ciMtint ant St. James, worming A? Tar through the vnderbvreb until trvld ' look out into the «.vector A sing!* 1

glance and he drew back in astonish* I ment. He looked again, and his face ! turned suddenly white, and an almost inaudible cry fell from his lips. There was no longer a cabin in the clear ing! Where it had been there was gathered a croVd of men and bevs Above their heads he saw a thin film of smoke and he knew what had hap ■ pened. Marion’s home had burned! But what was the crowd doing? It hung close in about the smoldering ruins as if every person in it were striving to reach a common center Surely a mere fire would not gathej and hold a throng like this. Nathaniel rose to his feet ami thrust his head and shoulders from his hiding-place. (He heard a loud shout near him and drew back quick- | ly as a boy rushed madly across the opening toward the crowd crying out at the.top of his voice. He had come out of the path that led to St. James No sooner had he reached the group about the burned cabin than there came a change that added to Nathani el’s bewilderment. He heard loud voices, the excited shouting of men and the shrill cries of boys, and the crowd suddenly began to move, thin ning itself out until it was racing in [ a black stream toward the Mormon city. In his excitement Nathaniel hurried toward the path. From the concealment of a clump of bushes he ' watched the people as they rushed ; past him a dozen paces away. Be hind all the others there came a figure that drew a sharp cry from him as he leaped from his hiding-place. It was Obadiah Price. “Obadiah!” he called. “Obadiak Price!” The old man burned. His face was livid. He was chattering to himself and he chattered still as he ran up tc Nathaniel.* He betrayed no surprise | at seeing him, and yet there was the insane grip of steel in the two hands that clutched fiercely at Nathaniel’s “You have come in time, Nat!” he panted joyfully. “You have come ir time! Hurry—hurry—hurry—” He ran back into the clearing, with j Nathaniel close at his side, and point ed to the smoking ruins of the cable among the lilacs. “They were killed last night!” h< cried shrilly. “Somebody murdered | them —and burned them with ths house! They are dead—dead!” “Who?” shouted Nathaniel. Obadiah had stopped and was rub blng and twisting his hands in his old mad way. “The old folks. Ho, ho, the old folks, of course! They are dead— ; dead —dead—” He fatrly shrieked the .words. Then for a moment, be stood tightly clutch ing his thin hands over his chest in a powerful effort to control himself. “They are dead!” he repeated. He spoke more calmly, and yet there was something so terrible ir his eyes, something so harshly vl brant of elation in the quivering pas sion of his voice that Nathaniel fell himself filled with a strange horror He caught him* by the arm, shaking him as he would have shaken a child "Where is Marion?” he asked. “Teh me, Obadiah —where is Marion?” The councilor seemed not to have heard him. A singular change came into his face and his eyes traveled be yond Nathaniel. Following his glance, the young man saw that three mer had appeared from the scorched shrubbery about the burned house and were hurrying toward them. Withoul shifting his eyes Obadiah spoke tc him quickly. “Those are king’s sheriffs, Nat,” he said. “They know me. In a momenl they will recognize you. The United States warship Michigan has just ar rived In the harbor to arrest Strang If you can reach the cabin and hold it for an hour you will be saved. Quick i —you must run—” “Where is Marion?” “At the cabin! She Is at —” Nathaniel waited to hear no more I but sped toward the breach in the forest that marked the beginning ol the path to Obadiah’s. The shouts oi i the king’s men came to him unheeded At the edge of the woods he glanced back and saw that they had overtaken the councilor. As he ran he drevs his pistol and in his wild joy he flung back a shout of defiance to the men j who were pursuing him. Marion wai at the cabin—and a government shli i had come to put an end to the reigx of the Mormon king! He shoutei Marion’s name as he came in sigh of the cabin; he cried it aloud as h< bounded up the low steps. “Marion—Marion —’ In front of the door that led to the tiny chamber in which he had taken Obadiah’s gold he saw a figure For a moment he was blinded by his sudden dash from the light of day into the gloom of the cabin, and he saw only that a figure was standing there as still as death. His pistol dropped to the floor. He stretched out his arms, and his voice sobbed in Its en treaty as he whispered the girl’s name. In response to that whispei came a low, glad cry, and Marlon lay trembling on his breast. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Sleeping on the Porch. You hear the crickets gratefully, and there is something mystic in the distant piano. For a few minuter yoi lie stretched out in th uxfv? 'restful ness, the ideal ending tor a day o conscientious labo». The crickets be gin to drone and blend their squeak, together and the tree wtve more and more mystically unA? yot fal* i asleep. Morning comes .rlth a *xe mendous chirping of sparrows au he sound of « rosier where. You hie a little vdiler ing deeply the fresh morning owita and grateful that you have a body, ' au? then you kno v that the day hai 1 begun as it

CAP and BELLS HUSBAND SMOKED IN PARLOR Visitor Is Finally Enlightened on Reason for Breach of DisciplineCoat Was Afire. The visitor sniffed. “Excuse me, dear,” she said, “but what a smell of smoke there is in this room! You surely don’t allow your husband to smoke in the ’ drawing room?” I ‘“Well, not as a rule,” replied her hostess, “but this morning—” “My dear,” exclaimed the visitor, “you should never make exceptions in cases like this. I never do. My Freddy never smokes in our drawing room on any consideration whatever.” “Yes,” young wife, “but “Nonsense, darling! There are no ‘huts’ at all! In the first place, it’s for the sake of discipline. In the second, the ashes absolutely ruin one’s carpets. And as for the thick air—Poof!” “I quite agree, sweet!” exclaimed the lectured one, spiritedly, getting in a word at last. “But this morning my husband simply had to smoke.” “Indeed!” said the visitor, raising her eyebrows. -“And why?” “Because,” retorted her hostess, “his coat was on.fire!” Higher and Fewer. “How much is a lower berth?” asked the man in front of the Pullman office window. “Five dollars,” replied the man behind. “And how much is an upper?” “Four dollars.” “Then the higher berths are lower?” “Yes, sir." “And the lower berths are higher?” “Exactly.” “Well, I’ll take a lower berth if they’re higher.” “I’m sorry, but I have no lower berths left.” “Got an upper?” “Yes.” “But these are lower?" “Sure.” “Well, then, the higher the fewer.” —Yonkers Statesman. Poor Baby. "Nurse, has the baby had a powder?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And those hpyophosphites?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And the magnesia?" “Yes, “Did you put a poultice on his back?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And cold compress on his chest?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And he's no better?” “No, ma’am.” “How strange! I think we had ; better send for the doctor.” SHE’D MAKE HIM PROPOSE. I ' II Binks—ls it hard to propose to a girl? Blinks —Depends on the girl. Binks —How so? Blinks —If she has been out several seasons it is hard not to.” The Woman’s Way. "Many a married man who might make a fortune is handicapped because his wife demands too much of bis attention.” “That’s right. Just as soon as fortune begins to flirt with him his wife gets jealous.”—Catholic Standard and Times. Failed to Please. “Yes,” said Mrs. Proppin, “I have had 13 cooks in three months." “Oh you surely don’t mean that,” rejoined Mrs. Athome. “It’s the truth,” replied Mrs. Dropinn, with a deep sigh, “and what is more, I didn’t please any of them.” It Drew Trade. Friend—Why do you have such misspelled and ungrammatical signs in your front window? Sharp Tradesman —People think I’m s dunce and come in to swindle me. Tiade’s just booming.

HOW DISPUTE FINALLY E’.'DEDGovernment Agent Settles Squabble : Between Landlord and Tenant by Claiming Meteorite. Miss Dorothea Klumpke, a lady astronomer, speaks of the difficulties and intricacies that astronomy presents to the lay mind. ; “For instance,”, she said, smiling, *‘there is the well-known case of the meteorite that fell on a Vermont farm in 1890. It was a valuable meteorite, and the landlord at once stepped up and claimed it. I “ ‘AU minerals and metals on the land belong to me,’ he said. ‘That’s in the lease.’ “The tenant demurred. “ ‘This meteorite,’ he said, ‘wasn’t ! on the farm, you must remember, when the lease was drawn up.’ “The landlord perceived the justice i claim. He thought a moment. Then he said decisively, ‘I claim her as flying game.’ “But the tenant,was ready for him. “ ‘lt's got neither wings nor feathers,’ he said. ‘Therefore, as ground game, it’s mine.’ “They continued their argument, and in the heat of it a revenue officer arriving with a truck, proceeded to put the meteorite aboard. “ ‘I claim her for the government,’ he said, ‘as an article introduced into the country without payment of duty!”’ NOT ALL THERE. I “You talk as if you had a cold in your head/’ “No, sir. A very small part of it is in by head.” Half Mourning. Miss Lee of Virginia had a negro maid who was always asking her mistress for her clothes long before she was through with ■*them. One day : Diana’s jhusband died and she went into mourning. In a very short time, however, she asked her mistress for a certain hat, which was trimmed with bright red roses. Much surprised and amused, Miss Lee remarked: “Why, Diana, you cannot wear that hat, you are in deep mourning for Toby and it would look outrageous.” “Law, Miss,’’ returned Diana, quite cheerfully. ‘Tse thinking of going out of mourning from the waist up."— Woman’s Home Companion. For Art’s Sake. “That’s very nice, indeed,” said the photographer. “Stay just there while I make the exposure.” He removed the cap as he spoke, and counted out a minute and three-quarters. “You can get up. I’m afraid you’ve been sitting on your hat.” “My hat!” roared the sitter angrily, regarding the flattened felt. “Why j the dickens didn’t you tell me I was sitting on it?” “My dear sir,” protested the pho j tographer, blandly, “that would have spoiled your expression!”—Answers. Anything to Oblige. “See here, young man,” said the bus? man behind the blue pencil to the cut: reporter, “you say the yacht was slowly making headway in the teeth of the gale.” “Well, what’s wrong with that?’’ queried the c. r. , “Why, there wasn’t any gale at the time,” answered he of the j blue terror. “Oh, well,” retorted the c. r. peev- | ishly, “just make it read ‘in the false j teeth of the gale.’” The Walls of Jericho. *Tve got a scheme,” said the manufacturer of automobile accessories to his partner. “My little boy came home last Sunday with a story about a wall in a town named Jericho being blown down by a fellow with a horn. Now, why not hunt up this fellow —Joshua, I think his name was—and get him to sign a testimonial that it was’ a horn of our make that did the trick? It’ll be the biggest kind of an ad. for us.” —Puck. An Idea. “I see it is said that, although Minnesota’s rivers and streams are said to be capable of providing 1,000,000 horse power, less than one-third of that amount is being utilized,” said the business man. “Well, perhaps they could get more out of ’em if they went out and whipped ’em,” suggested the trout fisherman. - Kicking at Bills. “Amelia said in substance she was ( afraid there would be the devil to pay when her William asked her father for his consent” “And was there?" “I can’t say what there was to pay, but her old man surely did foot her Bill.” • Her Authority. “Bessie! What was that you called the baby just now?" “A little reptile, mamma; why?" “Where in the world — f ’ “I read in my natural history that whatever crawls is a reptile.”

A Lunatic Love By HELEN HAYES U.. ~ In her way there was no better woman than Miss Bessie Randall’s Aunt Jane Pilaster, spinster, having her own farm and living according to her own lights. She was full of sympathy and charity and good deeds, but “propriety” had been her motto so long that even her best friends thought she carried matters too far when she withdrew from the church because the I minister called and found her up a ! cherry, tree picking fruit. For primness and preciseness and propriety Aunt Jane was without a rival. In after days, and not so very long after, either, Aunt Jane admitted to herself that she must have been crazy when she wrote up to the city for her niece, Bessie, to spend July with her. She hadn’t seen the girl for several years. As she remembered her, Bessie was a long-legged child with a lonesome face and demure demeanor, who would sit and play with a rag doll by the hour and ask few questions. She had two real rag dolls made before she wrote the letter of invitation. She also had decided in her own mind that she would let the child chase grasshoppers in the back lot and climb fences, but she must not chase or climb boisterously—only properly. “You, dear, darling old thing of an aunt, but I could just stand on my head for gladness!” was the greeting the spinster received one day two weeks later when a girl of eighteen was deposited at her gate by the stage from Sherlockvllle. The aunt felt chills of horror creep up and down her spine, but before she could do more than utter a groan the young girl seized her and waltzed her around—actually waltzed her up the path between the rows of pinks and peonies and hollyhocks, with the hired man looking on! That evennig, after Miss Bessie had talked about rowing, swinging Indian clubs, pitching quoits, bathing, climbing trees and riding about in the elecMw wrfwt fe w ' Mw “She Must, Ma’am—She Must!” trie runabout her father was to send down to her —talked and never observed the pallor of her aunt’s face nor her primness of'demeanor —after she had talked and gone to her room, Aunt Jane said to the hired man: “James, something has got to be done.” “Yes’m, something has,” he replied, i “You saw my niece waltz me j around?” j “I saw, ma’am.” ■ “And was properly shocked?" “Very properly.” “And you may have caught some of her words aboyt climbing trees, swinging clubs she bought of an Indian, bathing in the river and riding about the country on a machine of some kind? You were also shocked again?” “Properly shocked, Miss Pilaster.” “Then you must agree with me that we must take certain steps to save my niece from herself. She is a dear girl and a sweet girl, and she must not be allowed to fall into hoydenlsh ways. She must be reduced to a state of propriety and that without offending her.” “She must, ma’am—she must," solemnly answered James. “Fortunately for us,” continued Miss Pilaster as a look of mingled hope and relief showed in hor face, “we are situated within two miles of the insane asylum. Insane patients now and then escape and go roaming over the country. If my niece were to be told that a male lunatic had escaped from the place and was at liberty, and that he was a dangerous character, I don’t I think she would want to go gallivanting around in that what-do-you-call-it" “She surely wouldn’t, ma’am.” "Nor do any climbing of trees nor clubbing of Indian clubs. If you have heard of any male lunatic escaping from the asylum within a day or two, and haven’t said anything about it because you feared to render me nervous and perturbed, it will be your duty to notify my niece early in the morning.” On the following morning James found opportunity to say to the visitor: “Miss Randall, did your aunt men-

tion the fact that we have a large insane asylum not far distant?” “Gee! A place, for crazy people!” s she exclaimed. “I want to go and see them this very afternoon!” . “There are dangerous lunatics among them, miss. Sometimes one escapes.”. “Uh, I hope one will escape yrhije I am here and come ,to the house! I shouldn't be a bit afraid. Don’t you know that if you look a lion or a lunatic in the eye he will become as timid as a rabbit? If you hear of anyone escaping—” “But I have heard of one,” desperately interrupted James. “If I were in your place I shouldn’t go far from the house until we learn that he has been captured. Before you can look him in the eye he will murder you. This one who escaped the other But Miss ’Bessie was gone to tell the news to her aunt, and to add that she should spend the whole day looking for the coming of the lunatic. If he :ame, she would wager her runabout (gainst a hill of potatoes that she would subdue him and lead him back to the asylum. Three days passed , and the runabout arrived, and she announced her intention of taking a long ride at "once. Miss Pilaster groaned and told more tales of lunatics. James groaned and predicted death by strangulation. Nevertheless, the girl went. She started out in a cloud of dust ' and had gone two miles when there ‘ was a bur-r-r-r-r and the vehicle ! came to a stop. She worked away at . the levers without avail. She got down and peeked and peered, but it t was no use. She was stamping her foot in anger when a man caine out , of the woods close at hand. He was ’ a young man of 25 —a good-looking young man and he had a professional air about him. "Something wrong?” he pleasantly j queried as he looked from the girl to ( the runabout. “Yes; it won’t go.” In three minutes, he had discovered the cause of the trouble, and after , running the vehicle up and down he halted and asked if she were going over to Sherlockville. When he received an affirmative reply he said: “So am I. If you have no objections I will ride vfith you apd see that all goes well. The machine is new and must be coaxed a bit.” To her surprise Miss Bessie found herself seated beside the stragger and bowling along at a merry gait. They had gone a mile when she suddenly remembered that the young man had not introduced himself. Then she remembered the escaped lunatic and the words of warning. For half a minute her heart was in her mouth. Then she took a sly peep and failed to see anything murderous in the man’s looks. They were a bit gloomy and preoccupied, but not savage. “Excuse me,” he finally said as he turned to her. “I am from the asylum, but I haven’t a card with me. My name is Ashley, and if I mistake not you are the young lady at Miss Pilaster’s.” Miss Bessie bowed in acknowledgment and her heart jumped again. This man must be the escaped lunatic! She developed her plan in a moment. She became very communicative. In fact, she gushed to throw him off his guard. If he was on an errand to the village she would wait and take him back and to this he readily agreed. There was a wait of ten minutes and then he repppeared. Little was said on the return trip. The young man was moody, and Miss Bessie was wondering how to land him at the asylum without provoking a desperate resistance. Aunt Pilaster and James were waiting at the gate, and to her astonishment the vehicle came to a halt and the lunatic raised his hat to the woman and nodded to James. “Why, Bessie, where did you find the doctor?" asked the aunt as she came forward. “Doctor?” repeated the girl. “Why, yes—Dr. Ashley of the asylum.” “Good heavens, but Isn’t he that escaped lunatic, and are all my plans for his capture to be knocked in the head!” “Sorry for you,” replied the doctor, with a smile. “I am from the asylum, but not exactly a lunatic. You have just kindly taken me to the village to have an aching tooth drawn.” “But I —l have captured you, you know.” “I won’t dispute it” When it is said that from that day on for two months the doctor was a frequent called at Miss Pilaster’s, and that he and Miss Bessie have been writing twice a week to each other since her return to the city, the reader can draw his own conclusions. He will at any rate feel a bit of sympathy for Miss Pilaster, who turned to James the day her niece went home and • with her apron at her eyes tearfully exclaimed: “Oh, James, things have so changed about since I was a g-gurl that I can’t make ’em out! We told Bessie to look out for lunatics, and now she’s going to marry a whole asylum full of ’em!" Accidental. & “John was a good-natured man, and was never heard to speak ill of anyone. But now he’s got an automobile.” “Has that made a difference in him?" | “A decided difference. Now he Is always jpinning his neighbors down.” From Week to Week. “You take a good many magazines.” “Six.” “That beats my capacity. I oan*b carry over four sets of serial storleCt In my head."