The Evening Democrat, Greencastle, Putnam County, 10 August 1896 — Page 3

"TeU us th« story, Kran(ifat1u>r.“ The spfaker was a. little maiden flus-en-luUred and rosy-chet'ked, one of a party which iunl gathered beneath the ■hade of a sheltering maple, In the peart of the great silent cemetery. It was Decoration day—that unique festival upon which the nation yearly honors its dead defenders, and every member of the group carried some wreath or floral token, with which to decorate the graves of departed soldier friends.

•'Afy dear, the story will keep,” answ^rpd the person addressed as “grandfather,” n Util, grizzled veteran wltp medals on hla breast; “let us first f all place our flowers upon the difrent graves. Tins is old soldiers' seo[pu of the cemetery, you know, and eVery tomb covers the body of some brave fellow * * * By the way, youdor Is a grave without any tomb*tono—not a new grave, either. I woufler who he Is tlmt lies beneath?” fto [Kiinted toward where, near the coniine of the old soldiers’ section, an humble mound of earth marked the last resting place of some warrior less fortunate than his fellows. “Come, children,” continual Col. Flanders (such were his name and rank), “I have a fancy to lay an offering on that poor deserted grave.If any wreaths are left when we have decorated the tombs of my dear comrades, we must bring them over there. Who knows but that some gallant lad lies beneath that nameless grave?" “But the story, grandfather! Tell us the story as we go along,” insisted tlio fljgxen-loeked little woman who had first spoken. Col. Flanders shrugged his shoulflera still broad and straight hs In campaigning days. He knew that it was nscion's to contend against this tyfaat In sliort drosses, and so, as they wandered from monument to monument, Mfcviug lie re u wreath and there l ftigrant nosegay, he told for die twoanotli time the rale demanded. It mad* a pretty picture, ana a tender one wtthaf—this oJ’ the old tighter, surromolad by bis flower-Uiden grand children, recalling times of stpnu and gtredi, while ho lovingly decked the gravestones of comrades and kin. Many a pusoer-by stopped to look after She llttlo procession with smiles bright or wistful, and one spectator especially scared eo hard that he drew the colWdl's kindly eyas hi his directum. This was a lad of twelve or thermpouts, pale and pinched of face, with great dark eyes and clothing that was

ragged

“Poor llttlo dlrivpV’ commented the kindly veteran. “Bee how enviously be ayes our flowers. Piwhaps he has got some relative buried here, too. I

must ask bins''

But the boy, as though divining his purpose, bad turned, and was already baa timing down file gravel walk. ColFJanders sighed and continued hla

story.

“It was- ad the seige of VicUsbdrg," be said, “find the Ggtiting was fast and furious. I think I never, before or plnce, satv war In all Its terror, or in nil ttn glory ,as at that seige. • • • Wg had captured a Confederate fort nrd held it from 10 o'clock In tiic morning ifntll 4 o'clock in the oftcrCioon, with shot s.id shell rattling about us from a dozen dlSerent directions. At 4 o’clock the Confederates came down upon us Ui force. Our unA fought like the stanch hearts they Wei%, but we could do naught against numbers, and were finally, after a ift'S-nifr-Ua struggle, driven out if cur posiftei and back to the Federal linos. It lyas only when we rsrflicd—with half of our men dead or missing—that a dTruivery was made dire beyond teilibg to tlie soldier's e»r Our colors— *,o tgtttu’ed flag which bad ubived all ovpr the fort—were in the bauds tbe enetuy. You hove no ld«i. my of tfie disgrace brought by the of his reglsicnral colors upon the lor Some of our men, when they the news, actually w:U down and t like babies; others went almost and .vantM to stoisn tfte fort then fhero. But wiser eounpols prefd, rnd flnadly a men roluuteered dap back into tbo fort, under cover tbb darkneSk, and, if possible, re-

cover t*ie

‘VUat wan was

w‘f

you. grandfather,

’t U?" a.rked littls (laXon-hair.

ii> eolotvel nodded his head gravely.

Ue SMtd

•ttvas I,” Ce tsrtd “They* were 'rolpiftcors, hat I was idtosen for

attempt. At ni^litfall ncoardlnRly 1 "(Jlpped pant our sentries. »»d. by AaUColne behind mound-* e"d even araaplng among dead bodies on the battlefield. I aueieeita'd m passing the Ogjam;'g pickobt and rea< Wug the dftoh below the escarpment of thr fort. Here I lay for wne moments hstimiug t»> fb* iflaady tramp of a wutiuel rm the OKOrpment abovi). Then, knowing Ant quickuatw of nidion was every#l}ag, I ekiiiKM-eil up the bank, hand 'fat hand. ,aud rolled into the fort. iwvteJy 1 fell upon a pile of SlteU•o flint my fall did not disturb the Stry, whose gray-coutial back 1 saw in the moonlight at sotnq distaneo. • * • In that quick look around I saw something else as well. Our danr flog hod not even Is-eu hom from the

to which It wa-s nailed, but ntlll

auag there (awaiting onlers from ke*dguartern. no doubt) with tin Oonfeder dte colors flaunting above It. • * • It took me Just a ralnule to dart aeress tihe enclosure and wrench both flag* our own and our eneuny'*—from the pole. Then I Kpr*n|t bahtad a broken gun carriage, 1u»t as the •entry turned

tmd began Id* return beat.

“I oun tell you, my dears, that your eld grandfather's heart beat a tattoo on hi* ribs while Unit sentry was pass Ing. Would he nee me? Would hi notice the absence of the tin gw? Fortunately he did neither. He was not a very good eentry, that one, for he never looked up ns ho paced along the

escarpment.

“When ’ thought I might venture forth I arose and rau in a stooping poe ft Ion for the breastworks. My foot Was on the escarpment—In another moment I ahould have slid triumphantly Into the ditch, when the sentry turned. Down I ducked beyond the friendly pile of sacking. But my movement* were hardly quick enough. Clearly the Sentry had seen something suspisloas, for he retraced hie footsteps and

came toward me. Wliat was to be [ duOR? My mind was mado up In a trioa 1 measured the approaching man In the dim light, and saw that ho was of skuider build—<a mere boy In my handa. Then, as he reached the heap of sacks, I suddenly leaped up mid grappled with him. It took less time than I spend in telling you to wnvst the bayonet out of his hands. “Just as he recovered nerve enough to shout I threw oue arm over his mouth, and, clutching him around the body with the other, we rolled over the escarpment and fell side by side into the ditch. He was underneath. The fall stunned him. and as lie lay with expressionless eyes staring up at the starry heavens, 1 saw his face for the tirst tune—” "And—and you know who u> was?" eagerly exclaimed Miss Flaxcu-hair. "My dear,” said the colonel with a rather sad smile—“you know the story by heart. Yes. you are right; I saw who my prisoner was the moment I lookisl into his face. There he lay. at the foot of the escarpment, dressed in the gray uniform of the Confederates —my own brother, Jack, the sou of my father's house, my schoolfellow and playfellow since babyhood, and now, by stern fate, my foe! “There was no time to be lost. Even for my brother, 1 could not wait; so I took out the brandy flask that the captain of our company had slipped into my pocket, and laid it on his nerveless lingers. Then just ns I was about to go, 1 remembered the Confederate flag which I carried. There war no absolute need for me to bring back those colors; and if they were missed it might go hard with the sentry on duty. My object, after all, was only to recover our flag; so I took the rebel stars and laid them on Jack's breast. Then I forced some of the brandy between his teeth, and, without waiting the result, ran with all speed toward the Federal lines. Luck was with me to the last, and I escaped scot free, to receive a great ovation in our camp. They made mo a captain for that night’s work." “And Uncle Jack—what became of him?" queried Flaxen-hair. “He must have recovered, for T saw his name In the Confederate reports many times afterwards. Finally he was severely wounded and left the army. Nothwithstanding all my researches 1 have never been able to trace him. When my father died he shared his property between Jack and myself. I set to work by every means in my power to find the lost brother. Personals in newspapers, paid agents, and the like, all failed to discover his jwhereahouts. Whether or not he is ashamed of the side he took in the war, 1 eiinnot say. Perhaps the poor fellow died of his wounds long ago. Heaven alone knows where he is today.” The colonel ceased, and silently doffed his slouch hat, as theegh to the memory of his brother. All the children sighed in chorus; and Flaxen-hair grlp|>Od closer her gramlsire's swordhand as though in consolation. During the story they had made a complete round of the soldier's section, and were once niore nearing that portion of the cemetery from which they bad started. Many a tewii 'Stone bore remeinbrahces of. the children’s love, and the colonel's kindly comradeship. “And now, grandfather, said little Flaxen-hair, “how about the grave without any stone over it. I've kept a real nice cross for that grave." “Y'ou are a thoughtful little lass,” answered the colonel, "and the ‘real nice cross’ shall be laid on tlie grave without delay. But staj^l What is the meaning of the excltemant yonder?” Under the maple tree, and quite close to the nameless grave for which Flaxen-hair had reserved a cross, a small crowd was gathered. As the colonel and his convoys of bqys and girft approached they saw that i? surrouniUel two persons—the one an irate man in the uniform of cemetery w&nlen, the,other a s.mall boy. An exclamation escaped from Col. Flanders when he recognized in the boy the same pale, ill clad urchin, whom ho had noticed tm the path earlipr in the afternoon. The cemetery mliclal was clutching the tad !*• the shoulder, as our worthy veterans, bidding Flaxonhair aurt her companions stay where they Were, hurried through th? cordon of onlookers and gained the culprit's side. Tlie brass-buttoned warden, recognizing Wi Cel. Flanders Ae of the cemetery governing board, saluted respectfully. “This boy has been pulling flowers from the shrnlis and cqnepers,” he explained. “I caught him In the act.” The colonel looked at tlie boy. “Come, my lad,” he said, “how does this happen? Have you any excuse for destroying the shrubs?" Up to tills the little prisqncr had Ixirne^ip bravely, and eveil sollily; but the gentleness of the newcomer’s tone and manner proved too much for him. “1 w-was picking a few flowers for father's grave," he said, gulping down a soli. “Mother's too poor to buy flowers, and—and I didn’t like tp see the grave wirtiout flowers on Decoration Day.” The listeners were vlblbly affected. There was a spontaneous movement, and a murmur of sympathy. Tlie cemetery official relaxed his grip on the bey’s ragged collar. “Vfbere is your father’k grave?” asked the colonel. Tears jyelled into the Httle fellow’s brown eyes as ho pointed towards the simple mound of grassy turf, the same “natneldk.s greve" which the colonel and his grandchildren had noticed. ‘'That's the grave," he sobbed; “we ! eouldnt buy a tombstone." The coincidence keenly affected Col. Flanders. Hastily he told the warden that he would be responsible for the boys appearance before the cemetery J governors at their next meeting, to nn- \ swer the charge of plucking their flow-

ers.

“Very well, colonel,” an id the re1 lieved official, letting the boy go free. “To tell the truth, I Just hate to make i a charge against him. I’m a veteran

myself, you see.”

i The spectators applauded heartily, as Col. Flanders, taking the boy’s hand, led him across the greensward towards where Flaxen-hair stood. I "My dear," he whispered; "this lad’s ealher lies In the nameless grave yon- .. v/-»n liitrt thn* * w /mi 1

said, "we were keeping It for him all day." • • • • •

When the simple eeremony of decorating the grave by the maple tree had

been completed, Col. Flanders began to question the brown-eyed boy In his quiet, kiudly way. “What regiment did your father belong to?” he asked. "He—he wasn't a Union soldier at all,” stammered the lad. “Not a 1’iiion soldier?” “No; be fougbt in the South. * • • But you stiau't say a word against him" (tliis with a flash from the dark eyes). “He was a good mau, my daddy. Even though you are kind to me, you shan't say a word against

him.”

“May heaven forbid that I should speak against him,” answered the colonel, earnestly. “Many brave and noble men fought for the South. • • * What was your fathers name, mv

lad?”

Quick as a flash the answer came, and the grizzled colonel heard It with an astonishment Hint was almost awe. "His uame was Flanders—John Seaton Flanders;” and the ls»y, in a paroxism of grief, threw himself on hie knees beside the grave. “Why, grnnfnther!” exclaimed Flax-en-hair—” that was Uncle Jack's name!” Answering never a word, with an arm about the weeping boy, the old soldier knelt by the grave of his Confederate brother.—Gerald Brennan.

SHE STAM»S HV BOGGS.

The close of the great war between the North and Soieth made it necessary for certain bands of lawless men to Withdraw Into the mountains. At the darkest part of that short but memorable period of doubt, terrer and suspense, a stranger came to the home of Wenby Dilbert, which was deep-set In the wildest part of Northern Georgia. U is not quite accurate to say that the mau came, for he was carried, in an unconscious state, by Wenby Dilbert and Ids son. Hank, from where Hank found him, pale, still and bloody, beside a spring in the wood a quarter of a mile from the house. He was sorely wounded through the left shoulder, where a bullet hit him, aud ho had fainted from loss of blood. The Dilbert family consisted of Wenby, his wife and their only somewhat sickly son, Hank. They were poor but honest mountain folk, and they lived In a comfortable cabin, remote from other houses. They were frugal, and during the war had hoarded up the silver and gold and “Yankee” money that they could get, so that now Mr. Dilbert had hidden under a rude hearthstone a squirrel-skin bag containing $4.Sr> in coin and paper money. This flnnneial fact was kept as closely as possible, a secret of secrets; for the mountain outlaws would murder the whole family to huudle a quarter of that amount. With tenderest care the Dllberts

Her Itroooinntlck Suved film tk<) l>ny In tlm School at Smoky Hal | low. “Did you notice how Boggs’ wife blushed up when you talked about the ohi maid school teachers?”

‘Yes. What in the world Is the mat-

ter with her? She's a woman that I admire vastly—a regular Amazon in stature and yet so n lined and intellectual. ‘Magnificent’ is just the word for her,” runs a Detroit Free Press

story.

“Y'ou called up some memories when you spoke as you did, aud I half suspect she thought for a moment that you did it on purpose. Boggs was a poor boy, had bad health, but was bound to succeed. He studied at night, thought his lessons ever and over while working in the field, and taught school for the purpose of working himself through college. One time he got a district school down in Pennsylvania. Three teachers had been thrown out bodily that winter, and the directors took Boggs with the confident expectation tkiit he would not last a week. “When he appeared on the scene the first morning there was a big, redheaded girl sweeping out the schoolhouse and building a tire. She was ns freckled as a guinea egg and strong as a harvest baud. She looked Boggs over deliberately and then burst out laughing. "Be you the Uhw teacher?” she asked, with; twinkling eyes. “Why, they'll throw you out the tirst day. A little runt like you wouldn’t even

make a good picnic for Smoky Hol-

low.’

“Boggs had sand, and only said he would do the best lie could. Sure enough, things broke loose while he wqg reading a chapter In the Bible that morning. One boy fired a chunk of coal and another began to whiSJle. Boggs seized a hickory pointer and sailed in; tint he hadn't a show on earth. When they had him almost to the door there was a m*d rush of red hair, freckles, swinging arms and Bashing blue eyes. It was the girl of the broom, sml she was simply an animated terror let loose. She knocked the Smoky Hollow gang in every direction. rescued Boggs, took him back to his desk, and served notice that he was going to run that school. With her assistance lie did. They studied together, taught school together, got married, made theD handsome fortune

together, and ire as happy as two tur-

doves. But to this day it doesn’t pay for anyone to try to got the best of Boggs when she is about."

nEAin.V FOE OF KATTI.EHS

Antelope Jnmp on the Hi-ptll<-s AVItk Their Sharp Hoofs, One of the worst foes the rattlesnake

ever had cn tin* Western prairies was the antelope. This wary animal, allied to the deer species; is very timid, and so afraid of man that only tlie best hunters could ever hag one. But they have no fear of the rattler, and when one of the reptiles was encountered it was speedily dispatched. The method of the antelope in making war upon tlie serpent was unique and heroic. The antelope walked around the snake a few times, awaiting a favorable opportunity. When it came there was a quick itound mrd t*he sharp hoofs of the antelope eatna down with deadly effecj <hi the body of the snake. With movements as rapid as thought the antelope jumped out of danger, only to spring back on its victim again and again, until the body of the snake was cut into mincemeat. Old hunters say that It was rarely | that an antelope was bitten In such an encounter wtth a nattier, and the serpent was always killed unless It discovered a convenient prairie-dog's hole into which it eould crawl. The sharp hoofs of the antelope cut like knives, and after being struck once or twice, the reptile was too badly injured to offer any further resistance.— Chicago Chronicle.

r. Won’t you give him that ‘real \ nice (woss’ of yours to lay on the

1 spot?"

Without hesitation, Flaxen-hair haudofl the cross to the shrinking boy. I “Put It on your father’s grave,” she

Not So ftlonntonotiN.

"Your life must be very monotonous," said Gus D* Smith, looking is the window of the Austin postoflice m the elerk stamping letters. “What makes you think se?" "It would drive me crazy to be evei* lastingly pounding letters with a haisV stamp. It’s the same thing over an4

over every day."

“Oh, no, It’s not," replied the clerk, "Y'esterdny I was stamping 2T on the i letters, to-day Its 28. and to-morrow I’ll be stamping the 20rh of the month;

.... . .,w. 1,-.. a,. ,,

so you she It’s not so monotonous aftei

all."-Texas Sifter

Hnnk an \ume.

nursed the unknown man; but It was not without misgivings; lie was so hairy, so rough of feature, so powerfully built and so gil min the expression of his countenance. Moreover, when he regained consciousness, his silence and mysterious actions generally wrought upon the imagination of his benefactors. It was plain to see that he was no common man. A cer-

tain magncUc force, a mv from with-

' lik

In, struck like keou lightning from his

narrow, deep-sot gray eyes.

Hank Dilbert, aged sixteen .did most of the nursing. One day his patient suddenly sat up in lied sind asked for ham and eggs. Hank called his mother. She came; but she utmod pale, for the man’s fierceness, invalid as he was, frightened her, but sbe said,

slowly:

“They ain’t no ntgs," she said. The man's gray eyes glinted between the cfl’Sed lids. “No aigs!” he growled. “What’s yer hens been or doin'?” “Nor they ain’t no ham. nother,” Mrs. Dilbert went on. “Yer have ter take skloment an’ filters.” "No ham! W'at’d ye eat It all up for, w’en ye knnwed ’at I'd want some?” He smiled at her In a way that made her blood clog her heart. “Well, hustle an' gil mi' w’at ye have got, fer I’m oht*> starved.” After lie had eaten heartily, the man called for his clothes and dressed himself. Meantime, night fell with a drizzling rain and a chill, blustering wind. It was pitch dark in the deep little mountain valley. Hank made a pine-knot fire on the hearth in the man’s room. The big fellow filled a

sprang up, tore ip tirst one noard and then another from the cabin floor, and, squeezing himself into the opening so made, said; “Kiver me, quick—lay them boards over me!" Hank obeyed, and Jnst as he had completed his task there came a knock at the outer door that burst it open, and then Hank beard bis mother scream. “Shet erp, quick,” a stern voice commanded, “an’ jes’ git the ole man’s money ter us in a hurry.” “Lor—” “Don’t ye squeak another time. Ef ye do I’ll shoot ye full o’ holes. Git that money, an’ git it quick-” Hank was a mere boy; but he had in him the spirit of ancestors who were Uevolutionary soldiers and Indian fighters. Hearing his mother threatened sent along his nerves the thrill of true heroism. Quick as a steel spring he leaped to the partition door and flung it open. In ills right hand he held a pair of heavy iron tongs, which he swung furiously against the first man he saw. The man’s hack was toward Hank, and the blow was a lucky one, landing bard on the side of the fellow’s head. He staggered and reeled against the wall, clutched at the logs and fell heavily. At the same Instant another of tlie men—there were three, all masked— struck Hank with a pistol, a blow which would have killed him, but for the tongs. The barrel of the weapon hit one prong of the tongs, aud so was somewhat parried. Mrs. Dilbert was now screaming at the top of her voice and struggling with the third robber.—Up from the floor rose the one that Hank had knocked down. “Yer a goln’ ter die awful quick,” he gnashed forth, flourishing a large knife and lunging madly at the boy, who Just then was dodging and leaping, this way and that, to gave hla head from his first assailant’s blow. The outside door was open, and the wind and rain came in. The ashes were whirled from the wide fireplace and filled the room; the lard lamp on Mrs. Dllbert’s little table was blown out. The one light was a wavering flare from the pine knots on the hearth in the other room. "Murder! Help!” Hank (Tied, as loud ns he eould. Suddenly the cabin trembled. There was a rending noise. The floor in the other room was heaved high and the boards fell aside with a mighty clatter. A pale giant loomed in the uncertain light, his hair disheveled, his grim face distorted wtth passion. A post was wrenched from the bedstead and some heavy blows fell right aud left. Two or three pistol shots rang spitefully in the midst of tlie struggle. Next morning at 1 Oo’clock Col. Miller Wofford arrived at tlie lonely Dilbert cabin. Five picked men of the revenue service were with him, an J they were giflded by Mr. Oilbert. whose description of the wounded stranger at his house had satisfied the colonel tlmt it was Glen Hires, the most terrible of all the mountain oatlaws, who had been nursed so tenderly by Hank. There was a large reward for his capture, dead or alive, but recently he had escaped, badly wounded, by lightiug his way through a posse of Federal officers. They came only to rescue Hauk. Mrs. Dilbert bad been shot in tlie attack on the house, but her death had been avenged. Within and without j the cabin laj the bodies of the outlaws. I Glen Hires, whose giant strength had felled them, one by one, was slowly bleeding to death on the cabin floor. On the bed. unconscious, lay poor ! Hank, and the Vast words of the man ho had nursed were: “The youngster won’t die, will he?" Glen Hires never heard the answer; but his wish was granted. Hank lived through it. and to-day is a leading man near the Tennessee line in North Georgia.—I’liiladclphia I nquirer.

KEEP OOINO.

A Fierce Coinhnl.

If you strike a thorn or rot*, Just keep going! v If it halls or If tt snows, Jnst keep going! ‘Taint no use to sit an’ whine When the fish ain’t on the Itn«( Bait your hook and keep on trying Just keep going!

When the weather kills your crop Just keep gofrg! e When you tumble from the top, , Jnst keep going! ’Spose you’re out o’ every dime? Gettin’ broke ain’t any orlmej Tell the world you're feelin’ prims— Just keep going!

When it looks like all is up Just keep going! Drain the.sweetness from the cup—> Just keep going! Sse the wild birds on the wing— Hear the bells that sweetly ring! When you feel like sighin’—sing! Just keep going! -F. L. Stanton, tn Atlanta Constitution.

PITH AND POINT.

Brown—“Did your wife cross-ques-tion you when you got home the othet night?” Jones—“My cross wife questioned me.”—Truth.

Tourist—“But these sandwiches are disgracefully small!” Restaurateur— ’’^lay be, but then the trains stops here only one minute.”—Fliegonde B1setter. “No, George,” the young bride remarked tearfully to her chiding husband. “I won’t go back to mammfc I’ll ask her to come stay with ns.”— Fliegende B1 setter. Mother—“But are you sure, Clara, that he loves you ?" Daughter— ‘ ‘Whyj of course, mamma. Don't I see how he looks at me when I am not looking at him?”—Philadelphia Press. Gus Do Umith—“I hear that your mother-in-law is dangerously ill.^ Colonel Yerger—“She is a very sicT woman, but she is not as dangerous when she was weU.”—Texas Sifter. Rogers—“Your wife’s mother helps her a good deal, doesn’t she?” Hadden—"Yes; she has gone into town now to buy a dress to mutch some buttons her mother gave her."—Tit-.Bits, “I’ve hod my experience wifb, doctors who charge high prices,” sai the man whose leg was shattered in a railroad collisiotS “I wasn’t in the hospital five minutes before they had pulled my leg off?”—Cincinnati Tribune.

With tbs* The other day a little girl was seen by one of tlie clerks standing outside

Judge—“Have you anything to say before sentence is ptvonouneed against you?” Convicted Burglar—“The only thing I’m grumbling about is bein’ identified by a man as kept ’is 'cad uridcr t£e bed clothes the whole time. That's wrong.”—Pick-Me-Up. “Slimmina is cultivating his voice.” “What,led him to do it?” asked the unceremonious man, “cupidity or revenge?” “What do you mean?” “Does l^o want to be a high-priced opera singer, or does he dislike his neighbors?”—Washington Star. “I ! m going to tell my pa on yon,” said Molrnny Snrithers, as the blacksmith' pared some of the bone away f-ronvthe horse’s boorf.” “Why? What

?(Tl

Ijav^l done?” asked the blacksmith. “You ■ ain’t got shoes to fit Dobbin, an’ you’re whittlin’ off his feet to suit those you have got.”—^London Weekly

Telegraph.

Miss Newwoman—“I don’t ask special privileges, Mr. Jones. Whatldq ask is that you, for instance, a man, should treat me exactly as you would anpther man. Instead of talking small talk, and treating me like a thing to be protected and all that, assun>e toward me the attitude yon do to Jack Cas^ly. Trent me like a good fellow—” Mr Jones (quickly)—“Why, certainly, old ohap. Lend me ten dbllars—jvill you?”—Harper’s Bazar.

Extraordinary Growth of a Sick Girl.

Recently a fourteen-year-old girl died fn New Brighton. It is said that when gjie becamo>ill she measured five feet two inches. 31ie was srok three week?, and when she died and was laid sut for interment she measured five feet nine inchee, having grown seven inches in three weeks. It ia said that the change in her appearance was so groat that neighbors viewing the’ remains could scarcely recognize in thmn ‘{he features of their little friend*of th/ee weeks before. Doctors* say it is the most remarkable case they have any knowledge of.— Philadelphia Times.

pipe nnd, sprawling himself on the

Ins

floor.

head rusting on one band,

Roman Fever Extirpated.

Roman fever is al/nost a thing of the past. From 650, in 1881, the death* from malaira ran doyn to 264 in 18D1, while for the last live years the average has been 149. ttio number in 1895 feeing 125. These figures are all the naote significant in that the population

•f Ikune has increased from 300,000

467 “

smoked In silence. Hank crept into a

corner of the room aud sat eyeing him sidewise. “Hit tier kinder comf table," growled the man, after awhile, "jes ter be tn oaten the rain.” As he spoke be raised himself on his elbow In the attitude of listening. Hank listened, too, for his ear eaught the distinct tramp of a horse—no,

horses.

“Can tt be pop came back?” he began. “Who’s he brlngiu’?” “Rhet up!” said the man, savagely, aud Hank was silent. Nearer and nearer oamr the sounds-.-aiul-aji r^. 11. ■ I 4* listened. Then 1m

tho Bank of England. When he asked her what she wanted | she asktsl to be shown round the bank. Tho clerk was surprised at this, so ho went to the manager and told him. The manager earno and showed her round the bunk.

to 467,000 in tiiteen years. An equally Remarkable diminution bas taken place in the death rato for all other infectious diseases, so that Romo, even in the traditional unhealthy season, is one of the most healthy capitals in

Europe.

Catarrh Kerned v.

After she had examined all the locks, cupboards, safes, etc., tho manager Introduced her to nil the gentlemen In the bank. When she was going out »ho said to the manager: “I thank you very much for letting me see round your bank, because cny pn|»a put sixpence in bis account for me und I wanted to see if it was safe.” — 8jjui'u Moments.

Persons who have cataarh or who easily catch “catarrh cold" find Humediate and permanent relief by snuffing a little lukewarm water into tho nostrils every morning after ^sing, first cleansing ^hem thoroughly. Ire blowing the nosa. The water may ba held in the palm of the hand and thus applied to the nostrils. During an attack of cold in the head this method of treatment will be found very effective. A little ( salt added to water la very good, and a drou nfboito aoid is disc ' -™“- —**