(Copy
"The condition of our streets is pos
itively disgraceful,” thought Miss Ag
new, as she gathered up her gown and
proceeded to pick her way over unsta
ble boards and loose paving stones,
where the crossing once had been. It
was then that she saw him first.
He was a tall and well-made man,
walking somewhat slowly ahead of
her. Suddenly lie stumbled and al
most fell. In recovering himself he
turned and paused irresolute, as if
uncertain which way to go. lie was
now facing her and she saw his ex
pression of helpless bewilderment,
and saw, too, that he was blind.
With a sudden pity for bis misfor
tune and predicament she advanced
toward him. "Our streets are in such
a chaotic condition,” she said. “Will
yon allow me to pilot you to the op
posite side?”
"I should be most grateful to you.”
he replied, lifting his hat. ‘ I have not
been in New York for some time and
confess that 1 find myself decidedly
at sea.”
It seemed the strangest thing in the
world to Mary Agnew to be walking
thus familiarly by the side of an un
known man. And she felt that luck
had favored her when she had run the
gauntlet of that half mile without
meeting any of her friends. But the
man was a gentleman, and something
in his helplessness had appealed most
strangely to her.
This unconventional episode haunted
Mary Agnew all that day. She caught
herself wondering again and again
who her stranger was and why he had
ventured out alone. Sometimes it
seemed as if she had done something
inexcusably bold and unwomanly; yet
at the same time she felt that she
would never have forgiven herself had
she acted otherwise. His tall, straight
figure and fine face were still present
with her when, late that evening, she
entered a crowded ballroom on her
father's arm.
Half an hour perhaps had passed
when she saw her old friend Jack
Beverton approaching with—could it
be possible?—her stranger of the
morning!
‘‘Miss Agnew, allow' me to introduce
my cousin, Anthony Gordon, once of
New York, lately of the far west and
now of New York again.” Jack's
words seemed buzzing in her ears.
“I am glad to meet Mr. Gordon,”
she said quietly, though her heart was
fluttering strangely, as it had not done
since she was a young, young girl.
She saw him start and turn eagerly
toward her. Jack had now passed on,
and among the crowd these two
^seemed quite alone.
"‘It is you! I was hoping I might
meet you again,” Gordon said gladly.
“The world is a small place, after
alii”
“Yes.” she assented; "yet I confess
this is a great surprise—”
“You probably think that a blind
man is even more out of place in a
ballroom than in the city’s crowded
streets, and I agree with you; but
Jack overpersuaded me and now I am
glad I came! He promised to keep me
in tow and to introduce me to a few
of his friends with whom I could sit
out an occasional dance.”
She regarded hint curiously. It was
a novelty to meet a man who was ap
parently no more sensitive about such
a terrible affliction than if it had been
but a broken bone and he was about
with his arm in a sling.
“I hope you did not think me—for
ward this morning,” she said im
pulsively.
“I thought you did a most gracious
and beautiful action and I blessed you
for it!”
“You have not been—in this condi
tion—long?" she asked.
"Eight months—an age! And I am
a ‘remarkable case,’ for I have baffled
every specialist in the west and now
have come to New York to baffle these
fellows here. I intend going to each
one of them separately, at first. Then
I shall have them meet and hold a con
sultation; then I suppose they'll want
to examine me again; and after that
—the verdict.”
She saw Gordon again just as she
was leaving. “I hope you will come
to—call on me," she said. She had
been going to say “to see me,” but
quickly changed the word, adding: "I
shall be interested to hear what all
the oculists say."
“I wanted to ask you if I might,” he
said eagerly. “If I had not seen you
again to-night” (and she noticed that
the old habit of speech clung to
him), “I should have sent Jack to you
to ask if I might come.”
Within a few days Anthony Gordon
called, and his calls were repeated
with increasing frequency. The first
time he came with Jack, but after
wards with his man Brown, who wait
ed for him below.
His conversation was always full
of interest. His ten years’ experi
ences in the west; his struggles, his
successes, his defeats—he told her all
—with an eager and almost boyish
confidence. He made no secret of his
admiration for her, and the deference
and reverence he showed her seemed
something strangely beautiful.
Her father liked him, too. “Gordon’s
a fine fellow.” he said. “And so hope
ful. It will be a hard blow to him if
he shouldn't recover his sight.”
Finally there came a pause. Ten
days, two weeks passed by, during
right.)
which time Gordon had not been to
see her and had made no sign.
She could not bring herself to
write to him, to have even a letter of
mere friendly inquiry read aloud to
him by that man Brown. She was too
proud to write for news of him to
Jack. And it so chanced that during
ail that time she saw no one of tvhom
she could inquire.
At last one night, when she was
sitting quite alone, he came. She
looked up, flushing at his approach,
and his changed face startled her.
“You have been ill?” she cried.
“Not ill in body,” he answered
gloomily, “but ill in mind. They've
rendered their verdict—perpetual
darkness—and I’m off again to the
west. I tried to go without seeing
you—but I am a coward! I have come
now to say good-by.”
There was a conflict of wild emo
tions in Mary Agnew's breast. For a
moment she could not speak. He had
come to say good-by!
“I said 1 couldn’t go without seeing
you," he repeated, “and I’ve come to
ask a blind man’s last favor—before I
go, may I pass my hand over your
face?”
"What if I say no?” There was
something strained and unnatural in
her tone.
"Don’t refuse me! You don’t know
what that would mean!” he cried.
"Can you realize that, all this time
you have been but a beautiful unseen
spirit to me—a heavenly voice? I
thought I should see you some day
with my eyes and I forced myself to
wait—but that is not to be—and you
won't refuse to let me carry away
your true image into the night of my
exile ?”
"I am not beautiful,” she said. “I
have told you that before. And if in
spite of that you have deceived your
self—why need you undeceive your
self now? And why need you go into
nrr
i i i i
1 Have Come Now to Say Goodbye.1
‘exile?’ You led us to believe that you
would stay among us—why are you
going back to the west?”
"Because—I am a coward," he re
peated miserably.
"I don't understand,” she said.
“However, since you seem to wish to
dispel your illusion about me—perhaps
it is better to."
She took his hand and placed it
upon her face, but at its touch the
self-control for which she had been
struggling gave way; hot tears welled
up against her will and fell in burning
drops upon his hand.
“Mary—Miss Agnew! Tears—they
are not for—me?”
"No,” she cried passionately, “they
are for myself, for I thought you
prized this—friendship—just a little;
and it was a—a shock to find that you
could say good-by so lightly wfhen—
after such a verdict—even so slight a
thing as a woman's friendship might
have been something to you.”
“Oh, you do not understand,” he
said quickly. “It is harder than death
to part from you like this! Since the
first night I met you my only thought
and hope have been to recover my
sight, that I might see you and win
[ your love and ask you to be my wife.
That was my vision of heaven, and
you—its angel; and T never doubted,
I thought that light would surely
come. And when they said ‘Darkness
forever,’ I was stunned. I tried to go
away without this last interview, but
I could not. I had to come once
more. I never meant to tell you this,
but when you think I do not prize
your friendship I cannot bear it! It
is more to me than all the world; it
was my hope that one day I might
be able to win your love."
“But if—it is already—won?” she
murmured tremulously.
He started. “I—I dd not under
stand—”
“Nor I,” said she. “But I have loved
you—from that first day, I think! Now,
Anthony Gordon, have you the cour
age—will you dare go away?”
“But I cannot let you sacrifice your
self so. Oh, my love, I never dreamed
of this!”
He caught her in his arms, and
wrhile her head rested on his breast
he passed his hand tenderly across her
upturned face and bent to kiss away
her tears.
"My angel—you are more beautiful
than I had ever dreamed!" he said.
“And now I bless the darkness, which
has crowned me with such love!”
ETHEL ROOSEVELT
She Will Become a White House Debutante in December,
TRIED TO DRIVE OUT DEVIL.
Filipino Witch Doctor May Have
Caused Death of Girl.
A Filipino girl, 18 years of age, was
beaten and tortured until her life is
now in danger in an attempt to com
pel a “devil to leave her body.” The
operation was performed by one Esco
lasticos Ramos, the husband of her
mother, and Tuburio Mables, a witch
doctor. The girl has been subject to
convulsions and these, according to
the doctor, were caused by a devil
who had taken abode in her body.
At his suggestion it was decided to
ill-treat the girl until the devil should
become uncomfortable and leave her.
Taking the girl into a side room they
knocked her down and commenced to
beat her with fists. As the devil did
not seem to leave it was decided that
the girl was not suffering enough pain.
Securing a large stingaree whip they
beat her with this and also used it to
scrape the skin from her face, arms
and body. The girl is now at her
home in a serious condition, while the
two men are in custody.—Manila
American.
Odd Use for the Tongue.
The brakeman groaned and sighed,
a cinder in his eye.
“I’ll tongue it out for you,” said the
conductor, and he bent over his asso
ciate, ran his tongue over the pupil
of the man’s eye, and in a jiffy had
TRAPPING IN A CAVE.
Coon, Rabbit, Opossum, Fox, Skunk
and Weasel Caught There.
“The cave on the Warriors ridge in
Port township is a wonderful work of
nature The entrance is so small that
one would take it for a fox den, and a
man has to lie flat down in order to
get into it. It goes down 60 feet to
mud and water, and then you have to
climb up over muddy rocks and banks
to get to the far end.
“There is a stream of clear water
running across the far end of this
cave. The roof is 60 feet high and is
a solid rock of limestone and full of
white stalactites.
“The cave is full of animals. The
groundhog, the coon, the rabbit, the
weasel are all there, and I have caught
some of each in this cave. I set traps
inside.
“The animals stay in different
cracks and seams in the rock; some
climb almost up to the surface of the
ground, and others go downward.
They all have their dens inside this
large cave. It is very warm in the
winter. A man will sweat, the coldest
day of winter and there is a steam
coming out of the entrance on cold
days.
"I had to hunt for weeks before I
found the entrance. I was told where
it was supposed to be and yet I had
a great time finding it. I went in
with a railroad torch and I was sur
SCHOOLS OF THE COUNTRY
%
Completed reports of the Commissioner of Education for the year ended
Juno 30, 1905, show amazing advances in every class of educational intitu
U°n, excepting only the theological and medical schools. During the year al
lnost 19,000,000 students were enrolled, of whom 17,000,000 attended public
institutions and the balance private institutions. Failure of private schools
to keep pace with public schools, development of women’s colleges, progress
of industrial and agricultural education and the spread of schools in Ameri
can insulai possessions are features of the mass of statistical material given
out the cinder. "On railroads, in
foundries, in stoke-holes,” the conduc
tor said afterward, "wherever cinders
get continually in the eye, there every
body extracts them in one way—with
the tongue. The tongue removes
things better than any instrument
would do—it sweeps the eye clean as
a flood sweeps clean a river bed.
Further, it is painless; its passage
over the eyeball is, indeed, a rather
pleasant sensation. As regards the
sensations of the owner of the tongue
—well, to do good we should be will
ing to undergo a little nastiness."
Brought a Ru6h.
"Yeas,” related the old postmaster
at Bacon Ridge, “times were getting
rather dull around here, so we had
to resort to some press agent tactics
like you show fellows. The village ed
itor put an ad in his paper that ‘Hiram
Brown would take city boarders at five
dollars a dozen.’ ”
“Great Bernhardt!" gasped the the
atrical manager. "You don't mean to
say that Hiram kept his word?”
"That’s what he did, stranger, with
reductions in large lots.”
"But—how could he board them at
five dollars a dozen?”
"He didn't board them, stranger;
he just took them. You see, Hiram
Brown is the village photographer.”
prisprl to find it so large. It runs
back half a mile and the roof and walls
are of solid rock."-Hunter-Trapper
Trader. -
Buck Fever.
In the delirium of buck fever he
mistook a colt for a deer.
And the colt, mortally stricken, sank
down upon the straw of the barnyard,
looking with glazed eyes upon the mul.
titude of sympathetic creatures that
gathered gently about it.
"Have you no last message for any
one?" they inquired.
Thereupon the moribund animal
reared its head proudly.
“Tell my sire,’' it said in a loud,
firm voice, “that 1 died game.’’
One long, shuddering sigh, and all
was over.
Time Sometimes Flies So.
“Mabel,” asked the dear girl’s moth
er. “what time did that young man
leave last night?”
“Why,” replied Mabel, “I believe it
was nearly 11 o'clock.”
“What? I am sure it was later than
that,” said the mother.
"How strange!” remarked Mabel,
dreamily. “We both thought it
couldn't possibly be that late.”—The
Catholic Standard and Times.
REVISITS SCENE OF CRIME.
Thrilling Ghost Story Told by Eng
lish Magazine.
This ghost story is contributed by
a correspondent of an English maga
zine: "Wycollar hall, near Colne,
was long the scat of the Cunliffes, of
Billington. They were noted persons
in their time, but evil days came, and
their ancestral estates passed out of
their hands. In the days of the com
monwealth their loyalty cost them
dear; and ultimately they retired to
Wycollar with a remnant only of their
once extensive property. About 1819
the last of the family passed away,
and the hall is now a mass of ruins.
Little but the antique fireplace re
mains entire, and even the room al
luded to in the following legend can
not be identified. Tradition says that
once every year a specter horseman
visits Wycollar hall. He is attired in
the costume of the early Stuart period,
and the trappings of his horse are cf
a most uncouth description.
“On the evening of his visit the
weather is always wild and tempestu
ous. There is no moon to light the
lonely roads, and the residents of the
district do not venture out of their
cottages. When the wind howls loud
est the horseman can be heard dash
ing up the road at full speed, and,
after crossing the narrow bridge, he
suddenly stops at the door of the hall.
The rider then dismounts and makes
his way up the broad oaken stairs into
one of the rooms of the house. Dread
ful screams, as from a woman, are
then heard, which soon subside into
groans. The horseman then makes
his appearance at the door, at once
mounts his steed, and gallops off by
the road he came.
“His body can be seen through by
those who may chance to be present;
his horse appears to be wild with rage,
and its nostrils stream with fire. The
tradition is that one of the Cunliffes
murdered his wife in that room, and
that the specter horseman is the ghost
of the murderer, who is doomed to pay
an annual visit to the home of his vic
tim. She is said to have predicted the
extinction of the family, which, accord
ing to the story, has been literally ful
filled."
The Fringe of Art.
Elihu Vedder, the noted painter,
lives in Rome, where he has a beauti
ful apartment, and in Capri, where
his white villa looks down on the sea.
“Elihu Vedder," said a New York
illustrator the other day, “is as Bohe
mian as ever. Fame has not spoiled
him. I visited him last year, and his
Bohemian ways were delightful.
“You know they tell a story of a
visit that he once paid to Alma Tade
ma in London, to Alma Tadema in
that glittering house which Mrs. A
T's money, made in grateful, comfort
ing cocoa bought.
“The morning after his arrival,
very early, before even the servants
were up, Vedder began a thunderous
knocking on his host's sandalwood
door.
“Alma Tadema turned in his gold
bed, threw back the lace coverlet, sat
up.
“ Who's there? What is it?’ he
cried in a startled voice.
“I say. Tadema,’ shouted Vedder,
‘where do you keep the scissors that
you trim your cuffs with?’ ”
Toothblacks.
“Ae we have bootblacks so they've
got toothblacks in the Sunda islands,"
said a traveling man.
“What is a toothblack?”
“Don't you know? A toothblack is
an old woman with a pot of black
paint, a gold leaf book, and a lot of
vegetables brushes. From hut to hut
she passes, and for a small fee— a
yam, a bunch of bananas, three cocoa
nuts—she paints the Sunda islander's
teeth a glistening black. All but the
two front teeth; these she gilds. And
the Sunda islander thereafter goes
about with a self-conscious smile re
vealing a truly knock-me-down dental
display, a biack and gold symphony.
“It is a common trick among the
semi-civilized to color the teeth. In
Macassar dark brown is the popular
hue. and in Japan among the unen
lightened classes, the teeth of wives
are always painted black.
"In such countries the toothblack
is an institution. She goes from
house to house, as full of gossip as
a barber.”
The Dogsmith.
“The dogsmith will soon be busy in
Alaska," said a miner of the Yukon.
“He’ll have his work cut out for him.
too. The winter promises to be
very severe.
"The dogsmith,” the miner went on,
"slioes, of course, dogs, or he wouldn't
have such a name. The sledge dogs
of Alaska have day by day run over
miles.ot rough ice that is as hard on
the feet as broken glass, and hence
were they not shod they would soon
grow so incurably lame that they'd
have to be killed.
"Yes. there is a need for the dog
smith up there. He shoes the dogs
very neatly in a shoe made of wadding
and leather."
Buttors for the Offertory.
A Sussex vicar complains that but
tons find their way into his collect
ing-bags. Prebendary Carlile, of the
t’hurch Army, supplies buttons at St.
Mary-at-Hill for that very purpose.
“My poor people,” he says, “with hard
ly a rag to wear and nothing to eat,
haven’t even a button to spare, yet
pride keeps them out if they cannot
give to the offertory. So we go. round
the streets with our buttons before
service and a friend of the Church
Army redeems them at so much a
dozen."—London Standard.
ft 2E?
ff hU. ^
MRS. E. M. T1NNEY
Mrs. ID. M. Tinnev stow
S£.,N“e'*s‘
JSitihSVLsxfr *»>
failed to relieve. re®edb,
“Bix bottles of TVnim
took, entirely cured mo tl,e eat^-n
disanpearaig and never ret„nnng th
PerunatoealTs1mUariyUaiiiicS“men<1
“I have often heard IVrrm «„■ ,
and it is more widely known l,Jfi
any other medieiue, but I neverV M
what a splendid medirinc it realh™
until a few weeks a-,, u ‘ t' y, M
ba-TCi°ld^'Vrich s,,i' aH o-imT11®
The doctor wanted to prescribe, but
I told linn I was po.nff to trv I'eruna
and sent for a bottle and tried it
better the next morning
and within five days I had not a 5
of any lameness or anv couo-h
eJ‘,„consider n ^ finest cough tea,.
i’l-.RT'NA Tablets:—Some peoplem#.:
fer to take tablets, mth.-r tl.lm to ffi
medicine in a fluid form. Such peonV
can obtain Pernna table's, whichreprs
sent the solid medicinal ingredients of
Peruna.
New end Liberal Homestead
Regulations in
WESTERN
CANADA
New Districts Now Opened for Settlemetf
Some of the choicest
lands in the grain g:o*
ing belts of Saskatche*
wan and Alberta hire
recently been opened
f r settlement under
the Revised Homestead)
Kegniations of Canady \
T h o u s a n d s of hoa* ■
: teads of 160 acres ea$
are now available. The :v v regulations make ^
possible for entry to be n by proxy, theoppflt
tunity that many in the Unit- 1 S:ates have bed
waiting for. Any member < 1 a family may mail
entry for any other membt : < f the family, who tray
be entitled to make entry f r himself or herself
Entry may now be made b f : e the Agent or Snb*d
Agent of the District by pi.»xy,on certainccndfr j
tions) by the father, mother. daughter, broth* 1
or sister of intending hom< deader.
“Any e^en numbered ecctrn of Doralnloa yj
IaihIs in Manitoba or the North West province*, j
excepting 8 ami Sf<\ n<»t reserved, may l>e hora*
steaded by any person \ < -head of a family, J
or male over 18 years of ugt-. t • * the extent of one ]
quarter section, of 160 acred, more or less."
The fee in each case will be $io.oo. Cboithda
schools and markets convenu ui. Healthy climate, v
splendid crops and g id i.iws. Grain-growingaodj
cattle raising principal indu-.li :• -
For further particular as t rates, routes, bed
time to go and where to l " ate. apply to
J. S. CRAWFORD.
Ho. 125 W. Ninlh Streel. Kansas Cilr. Hisuml
THE MEN WHO KNOW
THE SUPERIOR
QUALITIES OF
\
SLICKERS. SUITS
AND HATS /A
are the men who have
put them to the hard
est tests in the rough
est weather.
Get the original _
Towers Fish Brand
made since 1836
CATALOG F/fFF FOR THC ASKING
To convince anf j
woman that ft*- *
tine Antiseptic WjJ
Improve her heal^
and do all we claim
w | r 11. T1 e wllj |
send her absolutely tree a
b*t of Paxtlne with book ot »“"5
tions and genuine i--•anomals- S'^
your name and address on a postal
PAXTINEi!
fections, such as ‘
catarrh and inflainnu.i n “:!“ { gnd
mno ills; sore <*5 os, sore JJ its cur*
mouth, by direct loe;.l treatment 1 eJtn).
ativd power over i -<e u« i M“ f£iiet
ordinary and giv.-s 1"l,,l’"dllf'08nd i«
Thousands o( wonn n a,r® us5fceatt Jl
ommendlng tt every d.ij.» ® „e«r,
drugg sts or by mail. l»
IT COSTS VO I NOT U > .■ T” “W
TUK XU PAXTON to., l.oMou.
Pain Pal
Keturn
il*5
V"!!» 1 vftSi'j
.mnsuTu- j"':
^^iVUnuto; cool* W
l'li™ ^l’ulnt stops p*m»
Toothache. Neural*!*. JIne»on
burns will i»<»t blister. —
infill ft*!
Ice; burns will not biisiei. rest* 5J. i3
h..w;
Taken
win. oe j
$30 AN HOUR.
il EHSCIIEUr-Sl'lLLMA N » c ^ ToSOffA>^
Outfitters. l>ept.M. ^
-----— v£8tl ^2
Hons. >4 «•AIU 3
ISM MU'M.ir. o
U.UIIKKN d SONS
I 51E\ OR vent' ,
conntytoselloiirt i
■■ v cutim
O $3 to 16 Pt‘r «'•»> •
TUK Ct.Hr.N V .
Write.
MU. LA
ANCE STABCH