\\ 'b—uv . _ vi! WAS NEVER 'PUBLISHED. ‘ The rain fell relentlessly; the wind that swept in through the Golden Gate was piercingly cold,_ and the poor wretch toiling painfully up the deep asphalt pavement staggered as he walked and now and then stopped to steady himself, pressing with his trembling hand against the buildings that he passed. His soiled, ragged clothes were soaking with the wet, and. his emaciated features were pale ,as with the chill of death. When he had reached the summit of Nob hill he paused and wrapped his arm about an electric light post at the corner, lean— ing against it for the support his feeble frame needed so pitifully. A quick, firm step sounded on the pavement. “For God’s sake, give me money to buy food! ” said the wretch at the post. The quick step ceased. “Why ‘don’t you say drink, and speak the truth?” said the man, running his gloved hand down into the pocket of his fur-lined overcoat. The glare of the electric light shone full upon his handsome, florid face; the poor wretoh caught his breath sharply and made a step for- ward. The money which the man tossed into his outstretched hand gleamed a moment in his trembling palm, and in another rattled nois' y upon the stones far out into the street. “I want no gold of yours,” said the wretch, with energy that shook his whole frame. “I want no gold of yours, Henry Mason.” The man started; his florid face turned livid. _ “Who dares to call me Henry Mason? My name is Derwent. Thomas- Der- went,” the man said, hoarsely, staring about him into the night. “You are out of reach of help just now, Henry .Mason,” said the wretch, with a laugh. “I saw the policeman from this beat running in an opium— soaked Chinese a. few moments ago. I believe my hOur of reckoning has come at. last.” , “Who are you?” “You knew well ,enough 20 years ago,” the. wre-tch answered. “Howard Scott! My God!” cried tne man. “Oh, I thought you would recall me,” and the wiretch laughed again. “What do you want ‘2" asked the man, unbuttoning his coat. His voice was unsteady and his hand trembling. “Neither your money nor your life, Henry Mason,” said the wretch, bitter- ly. “They will do me no good now. Listen! You live near here. I know your house. Why on earth I never spotted you before is a. mystery. But I think it was more your hard", cold voice than your looks that betrayed you.” Scott pulled a pistol from 11‘s hip pocket. The man caught its gleam in-the light and started back. “Don’t move,” Sectt interposed, calm- ly. “you are not worth it, and my game is not yet played. Lead on to your house, and dare to budge one inchput of the way at your peril. I want a quiet, warm place to do some writing. ‘Per- haps you did not know that I adopted a different profession after you ruined me and helped yourself to my money. I’m a. special correSpondent when I’ve life enough to be anything at all. I haven’t made much of my life, as you see, but I can write.” “If you want money tell me how much,” Derwent said, hoarsely. “I told you I wanted no money of yours,” said Scott, moving a step nearer. "I shall be paid enough for my night’s job to tide over the few weeks of life that are left me. What I want is re- venge and the chance to set myself right in the eyes of the world. You have robbed me of my life; that I cannot get back. You have stolen my money, as you did that of many others, and have saddled upon me a disgrace that should rest on your own shoulders. It was you who forged that draft, and not I, and you know it, though I served my term in the penitentiary for the crime. You caH yourself a gentleman now, Henry Mason, and I am wOrse than a dog, but- my hour has come. Lead on home.” The wretch had raised his voice al- most to a scream and now waved the pistol in the air. The man walked on, glancing over his shoulder furtivcly. “I told you I should not kill you un- less you tried to escape,” said Scott, with a sneer. “If you speak to any passerby, however, you are a dead man on the word. Go on. ' The rest of the way was made in silence. Scott was close upon Derwent’s heels when he mounted the marble steps of his stately mansion and turned the latch key. Within all was quiet. the wretch had counted on this; it was well past midnight. The gentle radiance of the. soft lights, the warm air of the elegant house almost overpowered him, but Derwent heard the click of the pis- tol in his trembling hand and pushed open the library door. “So this is your home, Henry Mason?“ , said Scott, staring at him. i “Not so loud, man, for God’s sake!” ' cried Derwent. “So this is your home?” Scott pro- ceeded, unheeding. “Not much like the prison cell that was my home for ten years, thanks to you, Henry Mason; not very much like the ratholes that make about the only home I know now.” “What do you want, man?” began rDerwent, his hand finding his pocket- again. “Pen and paper!” said Scott, fiercely, r"ous1ng himself and sinking into a chair at the writing table. “Now, do you sit there across the room from me. Move or speak at your own risk.” Scott took the pistol in his left hand and began to write, yet keeping a. close eye upon Derwent all the while. By and by he read aloud: “San Francisco, Cal., Jan. 12, 1896—1, Henry Mason, alias Thomas J. Derwent, do hereby certify that I forged the note upon the Ccldihwaite bank of New York city 20 years 21:“), for which crime Howard Scott stood accused. I declare said Scott innocent; I alone am guilty.” , “Come, now, and Sign your name. Straight- goods; I know your signa- ture, remembr r.” “I will give you $10,000, $15,000, $20,- 000——" began Derwent, eagerly. “Sign.” ’ “Fifty thousand—f” “Sign,” and the pistol clicked. Derwent bent over the. paper. “One hundred thousand-~anything, every- thing—” “Write Henry Mason, alias Thomas J. Derwent,” said Seott. The man wrote, staggering back from the table with a groan. “Now, that part of the business is finished. Resume your seat, said Scott. “I want to do .scme writing on my own hook, and these are about as cozy quar- ters as I can find. You are pretty well known at home, Henry Mason, if you did shunt that forgery off on me, and it will add somewhat to the interest of my telegrams to state that they were writ-ten in your own handsomely-ap- pointed library. thn I have finished I shall use your telephone a moment. The boys at the station know me pretty well. A special correspondent comes to know a great many people, you know,” he said, with a short laugh, “and I shall have no difficulty in getting a men to take charge of you. Whatever else they know about me they know I am no liar. After that my game is played.” He wrote on busily for an hour. At read aloud what he had written. He had told the truth when he said he knew how to write. The story that he told of his own suffering for the crime of another would have made him fa- mous, so full was it of dramatic power and graphic detail. At the first merci- less headlines Derwent groaned aloud, but Scott went on pitilessly, telling the whole dark story of the man's crime. Meanwhile he sat with his head bowed in his hands listening. He did not raise his head even when Scott rang the tele- phone bell and ordered a man up from the station. The house of cards which it had taken him 20 years to build had tumbled about his head and he sat bowed aind brokenagamong the ruins. The passing moments seemed hours of agony and despair. In the midst of it all there was a frou of skirts in the hall and the patter of slippered feet on the hardwood floor. The door opened softly. “Is it you, father, dear?” a sweet voice asked, and Scottlooked up to see a young girl standing in the: doorway, the brass bolt still in her small white hand. She was a beautiful, sweet-faced young thing, and her dead gold hair was flung loosely back over her wrap- pered shoulders and a. tender look of sleep was in her blue eyes. she went on. “I had gone to bcd and was asleep, but I heard the telephone and fancied it must be you. I am so glad to see you, you sweet old papa, you.” She had crossed the room and was kneeling beside him, her white arms about his neck. . ‘ Derwent fancied he heard a. click of the pistol and looked up sharply. But Scott threw a. newspaper over his left hand and coughed softly behind his palm. “Oh, I beg your-pardon, father,” said the girl, springing to her feet. “I thought you were alone.” There was not even a glance at Scott as she turned and left the room. Derwent uttered a. stifled cry as the door closed. “Lucie!” But Scott had sprung to his feet. “At your peril,” he said, jamming the pis- tol under Derwent’s nose. “Your daughter, I suppose?” he went on. “Yes,” Derwent murmured. “How old is she?" “Eighteen years." “Then she knows nothing of your dirty past?” “Nothing.” “And believes in you?” “Yes,” and the man groancd. “Then, God help her,” said Scott, fervently. The heavy tread of the policeman was heard mounting the stone steps. Scott hesitated a moment; then, whip- ping the pistol into his pocket, he snatched the closely-written ‘ sheets from the. table and tore them into shreds. “So my game is ended,” he said, with a laugh. as be stuffed the torn bits into the blazing grate. “Open the door and let the man in.” Derwent hesitated. “Coward!” said Scott, between his teeth, but he opened the door himself. The big policeman looked from one to the other in amazement. “You, sir?" he said, staring at Scott. They were friends in a queer sort of way. “Yes, Mike,” Scott answered. “Gen- tlemen like that one yonder don’t like to be troubled with wretchcs like me, so I guess you’ll have to run me in.‘ A. berth in your comfort-able quarters is not objectionable on a night like this.” “What is to be the chaigc?” asked Mike, turning to Derwent with no very 3 good grace. The man was silent. He still sat . cowering in his chair, dazed and help-- i less. — “Oh, the gentleman will no doubt be on hand to prefer charges in the morn- ing,” interposed Scott, with a laugh. “Let’s go, Mike.” “What a horrid wretch that was," said Lucie, coming from the back of the hall and putting her arm through her father’s when the door closed. “What did he want of you, dear?” “Money, of course, child,” answered her father, hoarsely. “Well, I’m glad you telephoned for a policeman to take him away if he was troubling you.” . “ A man was reported dead at- police station No. 10 the next morning. Thom— as Derwent went. into the little, white- washed, smoke-stained room and stood a moment looking into the pinched face of the dead man whose lips were closed forever. Then, buttoning up his fur- lined overcoat, he went out again, breathing freely—Philadelphia Times. '1 21%: ... . ,_.,,.aae_ —Hamilton, at. the age of 16, wrote political essays that were credited by the generalpublic to J ay; WEEKLY last he picked up the loose sheets and ' “I am so glad you have mme, dear.” . \ MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS. —A good authority on horses says that the gray will live the longest, and that the roans come next in order. Blacks seldom live to be over 20, and cre’ems rarely exceed 10 or 15. if a. small pinéh of common saltpeter is put in the water in which they stand. The ends of the stem should ‘be cut 01f a little every day to .keep open the ab- sorbing pores. . —One of “1.? six graduating students of the West Penn medical college blew out the gas in a hotel bedroom in Pitts- ‘pburgh, l’a., the other day. All six students were sleeping in the room and all came very near being asphyxiated. —A Buluwayo (South Africa) paper recently contained the follov ring item: - “In consequence of our local baker de- parting suddenly from our midst, re- l gretted by his friends, except his cred- : itors, Buluwayo has been without bread the greater part of the week.” —The French language contains 13 per cent. of useless letters. There are 6,800 journals published in the lan- guage, and they print 108,000,000,000 letters every year, so that 14,040,000,000 letters are useless, simply because they have ceased to be used in the French language as it is Spoken. —At a recent sale of the assets of a riding academy in New York city the saddle horses brought an average of less than $30 apiece. This is said to be the lowest price on record for horses of this description, and the fact was generally noted that in New York the market value of a horse is lower than that of a bicycle. ——The ceremonies at the creation of knights have been various. The prin- cipal was a box on the ear and a stroke with a sword on the shoulders by a sovereign prince. They put on himfia shoulder belt and a gilt sword, spurs: and other military accouterments, aft- er which, being armed as a knight, he was led to the church with great pomp. ANCl ENT J EWELRY. The Early Egyptians Were More Artistic Than Their Descendants. Among the richest of recent archaeo- logical discoveries are those afforded b y the opening of the two brick pyramids at Dashur on the Nile, the most south- erly of the great chain of Memphian pyramids, and of some of the ancient tombs surrounding them. The ex— plorers found that the tombs had long ago been plundered of most of the gold and jewels buried with the royal per- ' sonages for whom they were construct- ed. Fortunately, however, some of E those precious relics had escaped the ‘plunderers, being carefully concealed ’ in the tombs of some princesses situ- iated ‘on the north side of one of the pyramids. l Here were unearthed three splendid breast ornaments, beautifully worked in gold, set with cornelian, lapis lazuli 5 and turquoise, and covered with human figures and . the curious insignia. em- ] ployed l‘ y the ancient Egyptians. ’ Nothing, perhaps, gives a greater in- ' terest to these specimens of jewelry ' than the fact that they are far more ' lbeautiful and artistic in their work- manship than similar objects made by l the Egyptians at a much later time. Although they are not less than 5,000 years old, these Dashur jewels are set and finished in a manner that excites lthe admiration of our 10th century l experts. Not less wonderful as a specimen of l the artistic skill of the men who con- ' structed the pyramids is' a statue repre- senting the king, Ra-Fou-Ab, at the age of about 10 years, which was found in a. chamber near the sarcOphagus containing his mummified body. The statue is carved out of a hard, almost black wood, with great attention to detail, every muscle being carefully wrought, so that. anatomical experts have pronounced it a remarkably cor- rect representation of the human fig- ure. It is believed that many other not less interesting discoveries remain to be made among the tombs of Dashur.— You th’s Companion. Coifiure Ornaments. Some of the new Parisian novelties in hair mounts are very beautiful—off the head at least. A bunch of luscious scarlet cherries is attached to a gold pin that is to be thrust through the knot at the back of the head, letting the. cherries droop slightly just above and behind the ear. Fruit in the hair, how- ever, under any guise of enamel and metal, is not to be commended. ’ Its incongruity is obvious. Ve have ac- cepted it on our bonnets, where its use is less distasteful than the plumage of murdered birds, but in the coiffure the association is not acceptable. French women regard their hair ornaments with great attention and take as much care to suitably complete the coiffure :atoilet as that-of the corsage. Steel, jet. gilt and silver ornaments are especially suited to dark hair. Flair—haired women could wear amber and clear tortoise shell. For evening wear, jeweled orna- ment-s are properly much worn. Ex- cept against a beautiful neck there is no part of a woman’s toilet where gems may be so well displayed as in the hair. —St. Louis Republic. Small Fruit Salad. The salad is made by stripping the fruit from the stalks and piling it high on a dish and sprinkling it over with powdered sugar. This may be done with strawberries, raspberries, currants or any small fruits mixed. After the sugar is well dissolved, cover over all six large tablespoons of wine or brandy, or three tablespoons of liquor, and when the flavor is all that is desired, :1 little powdered cinnamon should be added. In keeping to this salad, the, fruit should be lightly stirred, so that wine and sugar should be equally dis- tributed. Any of these fruits can be made into a palatable dish separately or together, as taste dictates—Boston Globe. Luna—usiJ—Ja'm“ '.».-. . , Nomw —Cut flowers will keep very fresh. A i. sco'Ts AND EDUCATION. More College Men in Scotland Than In _ England. This desire for educationis, indeed, the beSt feature in the intellectual tem- perament of the Scottish people. The well—known ambition of the Scottish mother to have her son “wag his pow in pu’pit” is now somewhat weakened by the opening up of other paths of in- tellectual achievement,but there is still, says Westminster Review, a. widely dif- fused desire for intellectual in prefer- ence to commercial pursuits. It is an indication of the craving which exists for knowledge in general that for every young man who goes to college in Eng- land seven go to colleges in Scotland. In 1885 Scotland, with a population of 3,725,000, had 6,500 students attending her four universities, while England, with 26,000,000 of population, had 6,000 attending her four‘teaohing universi— ties. This, it may be supposed, has some connection with the large per- centage of Scotch lawyers, doctors, cler- gymen and schoolmasters to be met with throughout the English-speaking world. The success of “the Scot abroad” is perhaps not entirely or even mainly due to his theology, but it was at any rate the Scottish kirk that found-- ed and fostered the Scottish educa— tional system, and as to theology itself. if it has tended to confirm in him that quality of “high seriousness” which Matthew Arnold considered so impor- tant a feature in the best type of char- acter, then the Scotchman’s theology and its associations have borne a not inconsiderable part in making him what he is. LINCOLI‘I’; WIDE SYM PATHY. Treated All People Alike in a Courteous ltIanncr. “Horace Greeley once said: ‘I doubt whether man, woman or child, white or black, bound or free, virtuous or vi- cious, ever accosted or reached forth a hand to Abraham Lincoln and detect- ed in his countenance or manner any repugnance or shrinking from the prof- fered cont-act, any assumption of supe- riority, or betrayal of disdain.’ “Frederick Douglas, the orator and patriot, is credited with saying: ‘Mr. Lincoln is the only white man with whom I have ever talked, or in whose presence I have ever been, who did not consciously or unconsciously betray to me that he recognized my color.’ “George Bancroft, the historian, al- luding to this characteristic, which was never so conspicuously manifested as _ during the darker days of the war, 5 beautifully illustrates it in these mem- j orable words: ‘As a child, in a dark night, on a rugged way, catching hold of the hand of its father for guidance 7 how much that was than her kitten Puff, . wildly scampering around the lawn and support, Lincoln clung fast to the : hand of the people and moved calmly through the gloom.’ ” SMART COYOTE TRICK. Sheep Cleverly Herded to the Brink of a. Precipicc. ' 0h, very rich. ' were all out, and that had been a very An incident in illustration of a smart , trick said to be frequently played by coyotes in securing food from among the herds of sheep on western ranches 1S related by a rancher of Grant county, Oregon. He had a herd of about 1,- .l)00 sheep, and recently missed a large number. In searching for them a. herder found three sheep lying on the brink of a precipice, their throats marked with the teeth of a coyote. .He ' made his way to the bottom, a canyon, 300 feet below, and there found the bodies of 110 sheep, or rather parts of their bodies, for the coyotes had been feeding on the carcasses for a week or more. From other incidents of like character it was concluded that several coyotes had got among the herd when . the sheep were driven off their bedding during a storm, and had herded them to the brink of the precipice, much as a lot of sheep dogs would drive sheep. When the edge was reached the coyotes ‘ pressed the herd so hard in the rear that the 110 at the front either jumped or were pushed over the precipice. “PA FELT LONELY.” Queer Freak of 3 Drunken Brute in Cleveland. A Cleveland family was in court the other day. A (laughter was one of the witnesses, and she had this cheerful tale to tell of her father: “Pa was sit- ting in his saloon, feeling lonely. He went to the barn, and putting a halter on his horse brought him into the . house, saying he wanted the animal ‘ to eat supper with him. Pa made me set a plate for the horse. Then he took hold of the horse’s front legs and lifted them up on the table. We all satdown to supper and the horse began to eat. Pa pick-ed up a mug of beer and began to laugh and throw both hands in the air. The mug hit the horse onthe nose. The beast. pulled his feet down, dragging the tablecloth and upsetting the table. The horse backed up and sat squarely on a redhot stove. This burned its 5 came nearer a1:- d nearer, and before long tail so the animal kicked the stove over, F and ran out of the door. and pa threw alamp at me. came near catching fire, and a police- man came in. Pa has been arrested 108 times.” Not the Replies Intended. I screamed ! The house - l and spotted. She tried to run between The following extracts are from ex- . amination papers recently handed in at a public school in Connecticut: 1. From What animals do we get milk? From the camel and the milkman. 2. The hen is covered with feathers. With what is the cat covered? The cat is : covered with fleas. that has four legs and a long tail. A mosquito. 4. Name two kinds of nuts. Peanuts and forget-me-nuts. Cruel Examiners. A reporter for the Cincinnati Trib- une lately overheard a dialogue be- tween two suburban gentlemen. 3. Name an animal I “How did your daughter. pass her ex- ‘ amination for a position as teacher?” asked the first man. ~ “Pass!” was the answer. “She didn’t; pass at all. Maybe you won’t believe it, but they asked that poor girl about things that happened before she was born.” ' v ' storms, and Nelly was dreadfull y afraid I of thunder, but now she looked up at the 3 END OF THE RAINBOW. BY ELIZABETH-VA. MOORE. Ever.since Nelly could remember she had known that anyone who could reach- the end of a rainbow before it faded would find there great treasures. Janet, the nurse, :had often told her so. and of course Janet knew. The stories did not always agree as to what these treasures consisted of, but whatever else there was Or was not, the “pot of gold” was always sure to be there. Whenever Nelly had seen a rainbow, in her short life of five summers, she had been strongly tempted to hurry off and seek these wonderful riches; but Janet had always objected that the grass was too wet, or it was too near tea. time, or given some other reason, so that the end of the rainbow had never been reached. But Janet had gone away now, be- cause something had happened, Nelly didn’t know just what, that had made it necessary to dispense with a great many things they formerly had. First the pony and carriage had gone; and then Janet, who had lived_with them ever since Nelly could remember, had kissed her a great many times and gone away too. And only a little while before she had heard papa and mamma talking about something which worried them very much, and her papa said: “I’m afraid we will have to sell the place and move somewhere else. A few thousands of dollars would set every— thing right, but I don’t see where it’s to come from, and we musn’t go into debt.” Nelly had not waited to hear what her mamma. replied, but ran out in the garden in great grief. Sell the place, he had said, and move somewhere else! Why, Nelly couldn’t bear even to think of such a. thing. She loved every part of her pretty home with its roses climbing over the porch, and the cool, shady corners where the ferns and mosses grew. It was bad enough to lose Janet and the pony and the other things which she remembered they used to have and now (lid not have; but this was too much, and Nelly threw herself on the grass by her own little flower bed, where the big pink lady slippers that she had herself planted were just coming out, and wept. But not for very long, for, though such a little maiden, she saw that tears would not solve this awful problem of What to do, so she dried her eyes on her apron and tried to think. A few thousands of dollars i would set everything right, her father T had said, but Nelly had no more idea of after his tail. There was Uncle Ben, that is, her papa’s Uncle Ben, who was—- But then he was away off and had not been to see them for a i long time, not since the apple blossoms j long. while ago. Suddenly a bright idea. came to her. There was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, if, she could but get it. There had been only one or two rain- bows this summer, but when the next came she would run all the way, to be sure to get there in time. It was true they almost always came after thunder- bright, blue sky and sighed that there 1 was not even a cloud in sight. “Well, it’s awful hot,” she said, hopefully, i “and thunderstorms always come when it‘s hot, so maybe one will come some- , time soon,” and, now that this diificult = question was settled, she ran off and had soon forgotten all about her troubles in l omping with Puff. After awhile the sky; which had - looked so hopelessly clear, did begin to cloud over, and toward evening, for the ! first time in her life, Nelly heard with ' pleasure, mingled with her childish i dread, the distant roll of thunder. It the storm, which f‘nad bern ga.iie:-ing all tire while size “21.5 taking her after— noon nap, came 133: Lhcu. She lept close to her mother all the while the. lightning flashed and the thunder rolled over the house; for she had to own that she was a little afraid, even though she had been so anxious for the storm to come, and was very glad it was not a very dreadful one, such as thcy had had sometimes. ‘ Presently the storm passed over, and away low down in the west the sun came out. To Nellg’s delight a bi 'glit :uin- bow appeared in the (as-‘21 11:..1 Cu.“ Gil down just by the woods. Now was the little girl’s chance. She did not tell her mother of her intentions, because she wanted to surprise her and her father. so she slipped off tlzrou: ‘h the garden. never heeding the rain which “as still softly falling. She climbtd over the. fence at the end of the garden and ran down the little hill outside, and through the fields that lay between her hon c and the woods where the rainbow seemed to touch the earth. The grass was very wet and poor Nelly’s dainty blue dress was getting sadly draggled the drops as Janet had said was the way to do; but somehow she couldn’t manage it just right, and they came tumbling down on her bare golden head and eager baby face, as she hurried on, intent on her loving errand. ’ . Once she tumbled over a tree stump and scratched her hand, but she only said: “Oh, dear,” and .van on toward the beautiful bow, which somehow did not seem to get any nearer, no matter how far she went. But the woods were near, and Nelly could not see the end of the bow beyond, so it must be in the woods, and of course the pot of gold that was to secure her pretty home must be there, too. This thought made her hurry on again eagerly, as if the treasure was already hers. She "looked back just as she was en- tering the woods and saw her home away off up the hill; and saw, too, that the sun was almost down, and that the rain had nearly stopped. Then she gath- _ cred up all her courage and went boldly into the. woods. She pushed through the low bur-2119': or the edge, and came toa ”.1... j ; tell me what it all 12.: little path, which she followed till sud, denly, a little way before her, she saw the treasure she was seeking! She didn’t see the rainbow leading down to it, as she expected, but that, she thought, must be because it. was so dark in, the woods; but anyhow this must be it. It seemed to be swung on three crooked sticks stuck up in the ground over some deadl leaves and broken branches, and did'not glitter at all, as she had thought it would. In' fact it looked more like an iron stewpot than anything else, and had a. lid on so she could not see inside. But Nelly had not the slightest doubt that this was the treasure of which Janet had told her. even though its outward appearance .did not come up to her expectations. She went over and tried to unfasten it, and had just succeeded and was drag- ging it away, when—a man appeared on the scene; a big, rough-looking fellow that it frightened poor Nelly even to look at! ' “Hey, there, what're you about?” this man demanded, roughly. “Oh, please, sir,” cried Nelly, still holding fast to her treasure, “I’se come all the way from home after it, ’cause my papa needs some money anul bad. and I knew I’d find it at the end of the rainbow—and, oh dear, oh dear,” and Nelly broke down and sobbed in her dis- appointment and fright. “Wh at-‘s you talkin’ about?" asked the man, not. so roughly. “Stop your cryin’. and tell me what all this nonsense is about the rainbow. I’m not goin’ to hurt you.” Somewhat reassured, Nelly stopped crying and looked up. “Why, don’t you know,” she asked, in surprise, “that there’s always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? I saw it come down here in the woods and I ran all the way to get it for my papa, who wants some money dreadful bad.” “Does, eh? That’s funny. Well, so do I.” “But you won’t now, ’cause you’ve got all this. Oh, dear, I wish I’d got here sooner, ’cause you’re a big man and can easy get another.” “Why, bless yer life,” said the man, at. last comprehending Nelly‘s meaning, “that ain’t no pot of gold. I only wish it was. That there’s my supper I was just goin’ to cook, only everything’s so wet, i don’t know how I’m goin’ to do it. Here, look for yerself, if you don’t believe me,” he said, as Nelly appeared incredu- lous, and he lifted the lid, displaying to her horrified gaze some ordinary po- tatoes lying in their jackets ready to be. cooked. . Then all Nelly’s courage disappeared on the instant, and she cried in terror; “Oh, I want to go home! I’se so afraid! Oh, dear, oh, dear!” - Just then they heard a sound outside the woods of some one calling: “Nelly, Nelly!” “Oh, that’s me, and somebody’s look- in’ for me! Oh, I’se so glad! Yes, I’sc comin’,” and Nelly darted away from the deceitful stewing pot and its owner, and at the edge of the woods was caught in the arms of no other than dear, long lost Uncle Ben. Then once more safe and happy, kind- hearted little Nelly remembered the. lone man in the Woods who had fright- ened her so, and who was so dreadfully ignorant about rainbows, and nothing would do but Uncle Ben should go back and see him, with the result that a gen- erous piece of money found its way into the pocket of the forlorn stranger. “Now, Nell, you rogue, tell me why you ran off like this and scared your mother so," said Uncle Den, as he pulled one of the 'wet golden curls that lay on his shoulder. “Here. I come to see you 'and find the house in confusion “and everybody running around calling for Nelly. And nobody knows; anything about the naughty girl, only Bridget. ' thought she saw her run down the hill, and then poor old Uncle Ben, with his rheumatism and ncure‘gia, has to go i out after his bad child, and finds her talking to a iruIr-p in the woods. Now as, uLS-s.” "2:76 T'S'lely, “I didn't In 1171 ‘VA.’ “Oh, Uncle ’ tell mamma ’cause I we mod to s’prisc her and papa. I ran off to find the pot of gold' at the end of the rainbow, that. Janet told me about, ’cause papa’s got to sell the. house and move away if he don’t get some money. And, ch—I didn’t find it, after all.” Uncle Ben laughed. “Poor Nell, and she didn't find it. Well, don’t try again, or you may meet ' a. trump not quite so harmless as your friend of the SU“.VlIl§“ pot. But what’s all this about moving, N elly? You know I’m a stranger and haven’t heard all the news.” So Nelly gave her version of the troubles that had overtaken the family, and how she was going to set every- thing right by bringing home the treas~ ure from the end of the rainbow, and then how it all ended. “But now you’re here, Uncle Ben, and you’ll do just as well,” Nelly concluded, with perfect confidence in his ability and willingness to furnish untold quan- tities of riches. ' “Well, well." was all Uncle Ben said, “I came just in time. W'e’ll have to see, about things, you and I, Nell,” and Nelly knew that Uncle Ben’s methods of “seeing about things” were always satisfactory. Uncle Ben was as good as his word. and, though Nell;r never knew how it was managed, she knew it was through him that their pretty home was not sold. But the mystery of the rainbow and its wonderful treasures has not yet. been quite solved to her satisfaction.-- Good Housekeeping. " ( Origin of Music: The origin of music is lost in the twilight of tradition. In HolySc-ripture Jubal is mentioned as the father of mu- sicians (see Gen. 4: 21), and the Greeks and Romans both gave mythological ac— count-s of its invention. To come - to later times, musical notes are said to have been invented by Guido Aretino, a Benedictine monkof Arezzo, in Italy, in A. D. 1025.—Chicago Inter Ocean. —Guido.l':eni executed several master- !y landscapes in oil before 17.
Norwalk Chronicler