THE EVENING GAZETTE
'HER (PICTURE.
You w ish to see the photograph
Of her I love you say.
All right, old fellow; now don’t laugh,
Here“ is a fine array.
Three- quarters profile, braids and curls;
In gowns for st1 eet and ball.
What’s that you say? They re different girls'.
Of cbnrse. I love them all!
Well, entre nous, to end this chafl,
There’s one I love the best; .r;
Ah, no, my bOy, her photograph j
Is not here with the rest. '5 -' 51*: E:
Nor would it profit it you to seek 3134’ng saf-
‘Mong treausures laid away. -_._. 1'
She sent for it about a week " ‘
Before her wedding day.
'—Brooklyn Life.
GARDEN. STRUCK OIL.
The supreme moment in the life oi
Henry Nelson had come and .gone
There had been nothing heroic about it
He had simply told Miss Garden hi1
heart was hers and he had beer
rejected.
It had been a hard thing for Henry t4
do. He was a humble carpenter, nol
acquainted with the ways of the world
very well. He had read a good deal.
but the books he cared for were no1
such as dealt with aifairs of the heart.
His tongue, ready enough on matters re
lating to business and questions of every
day life, had refused to obey his will
when it came to this, the most impor-
tant topic of all, and. he had made a
sorry piece of work of his proposal. He
knew it, and as he stood by the piece 01
timber he was framing for a new
building he was putting up for John
Garden, his ax sticking 1n the beam and
his head boWed upon his breast, his
thoughts were by no means pleasant.
“I’m such a fool! I couldn’t say what
I wanted to. If I could only do it over
again it seems to me that I might do
better.” '
Standing there alone, words came to
him plentifully—the rain drops in spring
could not be more copious. How he
could plead his cause now!
“But Mary knew what I meant. She
must have known what was in my
heart. And still she said no.”
That was the conclusion of the whole
matter. A man may philosophize to his
heart’s content over such a refusal, and
it all comes to this—the word “No”
ends the matter, if a woman means it.
And Mary did. She was not a girl to
”Say one thing and mean another.
“John Garden’s responsible for this,”
was the young man’s next remark, as he
seized his carpenter’s tools savagely and
began to work with all his might. "It
ain’t hard to see that. If I’d been a
rich speculator, or a speculator, any
way, which I ain’t, and what’s the use
of speculating? Or if oil hadn’t been
struck in Peck’s Holler, Mary wouldn’t
have said what she did.”
If oil had not been found in Peck’s
Hollow John Garden and his good wife
would have spent the remainder of their
days in comparative happiness. But oil
changed everything. All through that
part of Pennsylvania the oil fever had
spread. The land flowed with petro-
leum as no land ever had been blessed
with milk and hon y. Derricks, tanks
and oil supplies cumbered the ground.
Men who had never possessed a dollar
which had not be in gained by the
hardest kind of knocks leaped at a
bound to the top of fortune’s ladder.
Farmers sold their land at fabulous
prices. Oil was King.
Some venturesone spirit had con-
ceived the notion that Peck’s Hollow,
less than a mile and a half from the
Garden farm, stood right over a lake of
oil. A test well was put down and
proved the opinion true. The news
spread like the wind. Oil, oil oil! It
was the talk from morning till night.
From that moment the world changed
for the Gardens.
The wife’s counsel was not heeded.
John drew $1,500 out of the bank. It
was half the amount he and his wife
had saved through their years of toil
on the farm. The ten-acre lot, the
choicest on the farm, was chosen as the
site of the test well, and soon the ar-
rangements were all made for the im-
portant venture.
About this time the affairs of Henry
and Mary came to a crisis. With the
shrewdness of her sex the girl foresaw
it, and. like the dutiful daughter she
was, she placed the matter before her
parents.
“When we strike oil and become rich
as the richest we wouldn’t want a car-
penter in the family, would we?” said
Mary’s father.
“He’s thebest man in the world,‘
Mary replied warmly. “What change
would it make in him if we became
. rich?”
John’s head fell thoughtfully. Ei-
knew Henry was a true man. A tev
days ago he would have been proud lo
call him his son-in—law. Now—well. '11
was impossible. And so he insisted
and Ma1y, poor girl, almost cried hev
eyes out, and then went to her mother
The two wept over it together. Ther
the mother said, with a half-propheti-
cheerfulness : _
“There, Mary, don’t cry any more
N 0 one knows what may turn up."
Well, the drill was swung in the den
rick and a professional driller hired 1c
put down the well. No other well wa-
watched asthis one was. The furtlm
operations progressed the greater be
came John’s anxiety.
John’s farmwork suffered sadly. ll
seemeda changed man. At times 1.
was. moody and unlike himself. A
other times he was slated and sang 1.1m
as fortune frowned or smiled.
When'the drill had reached the depth
of a thousand feet the tools were lost it.
the hole, and days and days were spenl
In fishing for them. The last of the
money taken from the bank 'had been
used befbre the drillers were ready to g.
on. Reluctantly, yet .with full faith
in the enterprise, John drew out the
$1.500 he had remaining in the bank.
His wife sighed when he told her what
he had done. but nofurther sign of re
preach passed her lips. Her faith in
the oil well was not strong, but her be
lief in John Garden was.
And down it did go. The lost tool-
weie recovered and placed in position
I
drillers to go on a little longer.
I high into the air. spattering the derrick
Steadily the drill 3923 to
ward China. Steadily John’s mmey
went. Fifteen hundred feet, still nc
trace of oil. Eighteen hundred, and tht
situation remained unchanged. 'At 2, 00f
feet John stopped; or, rather, the work-
men did. The $3, 000 was gone. The
test had been made and no oil had beer
found under the ten-ame let.
“Mortgage the farm? I can’t do that.
We’ Ve worked too hard all our lives to
get our home. It shall not be sacrificed
now.”
“No sacrifice about it,” the tempterr
replied. “How could there be whet1
success is certain? Jasper Holt is get-
ting rich. You can pay in short orde1
after your well' is down.”
The reasoning was specious, and il
prevailed. John’s friends advanced him
money and took a mortgage on his
farm. .Again the drill was started, and
once more John Garden began to hope
and to tremble. He was not so san-
guine as formerly.
The story of J ohn’s second venturl
was not unlike that of the first. The
money procured by mortgaging the
farm went faster and faster, until it
had been sunk 1n the well. What was
to be done next? A few hundred feet
mom and there must be oil!
John borrowed $500 on his personal
note,lindorsed by an old friend in a dis-
tant part of the country. That went,
too. Disaster seemed imminent. The
sharks threatened to leave him. One
last despairing effort was made. J ohn’s
wife had belonged to a comparatively
wealthy family before her marriage.
She had some jewels which had been
handed down for several centuries from
one generation to another. These were
sold, and the money, together with a
small amount realized on a gold watch
John had given his daughter on her
sixteenth birthday, served to induce the
once more.
The critical period in the history of
the well came one evening in autumn.
The workmen had examined the various
sands they reached and [reported them
good. John’s hopes were at a fever
pitch. And what wonder! The next
few hours would decide whether he
were to be a rich man or a pauper.
The well was torpedoed with nitro-
glycerine at midnight. Oil! It was
thrown by the force of the explosion
. we were to find them. Instead of riding
with a shower like summer rain. After
a little while it began to flow in a
heavy, dark green stream.
Early that morning John went to bed
happy
When John woke up the well had al—
niost stopped flowing. For a few days a
little 011 came from it at times. Then it
failed entirely. As a producing well it
was almost worthless.
If the world could have come to an
end then John would have thanked
God for it. Time did not seem to miti-
gate his disappointment. He wandered
about the farm like one in a dream.
In the meantime the mortgage was
maturing. How was the money to be '
raised? This was a question no one
of- the Garden family could answer.
Despair had seized them. The more
they thought about it the deeper grew
their trouble.
At length the farm was advertised for,
sale at public auction. For sale! The
old homestead! Mary wept day after
day at the thought of parting with the
only home she had ever known.
The day of the sale arrived. There
were not many bidders. A farm with
no oil on it was not so marketable as it
might be. Three thousand dollars was
the outside figure, and the place seemed
likely to be bid off for that.”
‘ Thirty-five hund1 ed!”
A murmur of astonishment ran
through the crowd. All turned in the
lirection of the voice.
“Whose bid is this?”
snerifl‘. ,
“Mine—Henry Nelson’s,” was the re-
ply, as- the young carpenter edged his
vay up toward the stand. “And I’m
ready to pay for it now.”
The crowd of countrymen grew more
dense around the house, all eager to
near the terms of the sale. Henry Nel-
son buying the Garden farm!
In five minutes the bargain had been
closed.
John took Henry’ 3 hand with a sorry
attempt at a smile. '
“If it had to be done, I’d rather you’d
nave the place than any other man,” he
said, brokenly. “When do you want—"
“Never!” was the low but distinct re-
ply. “I’ve bought the place to save it.
It’s yours just as it has always been.”
“You mustn’t do it, Henry,” said
.Ia. y. who‘had heard of the sale and
same where John and Henry stood, a
little apart from the rest.
"Don't sa y a word about it, Mary,"
:he carpenter said. ' But, he saw from
Mary‘s tears that she could say no more
without break; a; down. “The money
ivas mine. I've a right to do with it as
I want to."
There was a proud look on his face a:
he spoke. Then he turned and walked
away.
A few days after that Henry was bus
ll y at work with his tools when he
looked up and saw John Garden getting
over the fence nearby. He stuck his
broadax into the log he was hewing and
waited for him to come up.
John‘s face bore a peculiar expres-
sion, hard to describe, as he .put one fool
upon the log and said:
‘Henry, I’ve been a tarnation fool, but
i wouldn’t wonder if you knew that
without my tellin’ you. But I wanted
to say that it was all along 0’ me that
Mary turned you ofi. She thought then,
and does now, that there ain’t another
such a feller in'this county as you be.
If you could go an’ see her again. i
rather guess——”
‘ You do?” bloke in Hemy. seeing
that John hesitated and ha1 d1) saw the
way out of his dilemma.
‘ Yes, I do. ”
Henry reached out his hand and John
quickly put his into it.
The young man left his ax sticking in
the log. and the two went up to the
house together.
And this time John Cai den proved tc
be a ti ue prophet. -—E1)r .111 L. VINCENT
asked the
. ment a huge bird that had been feeding
- prised, started to run: then, beating the
:CAPTURING THE CONDOR.
He is the Largest American Bird and a
.Good Fighter.
“There they are l” shouted the Texi-
can guide, as we rode up the slope of a
little hill from a narrow arroyo down
Which we had been riding for several
hour. There they were, indeed—great
patches of low, long branching oaks in
the center of a little valley, and over the
hill we could see other valleys and more
trees, the latter rare enough in Lower
California to be appreciated when
found.
We had been riding all day' 1n the hot
sun, and the sight was refreshing,a
Moreno had led us into the wilderness
with the promise .of a California c0ndor
hunt, and this was the very place where
directly into the valley, we gazed at its
cool retreats from the cover of the hill,
then returned to the arroyo, and finally
reached the very edge of the grove
through a. wash in the hills.
“N ow, gentlemen,” said Moreno,
”you can get plenty of condor here with
a rifle; all you have to do is to walk or
ride through the oaks and shoot them;
but this is what you call pot hunting—
too easy. Now, when the condor is very
hungry or hot. he comes down to the
ground and walks around, and then it is.
hard to catch him, as he is on the watch,
anduif caught, makes a hard fight. In
this way we will take the game.”
There were eight in the party , all
well mounted on 0fast broncos that, in
spite of the long ride, were in good con-
dition. The eight were lined up on the
edge of the wood, and with their leader
well in advance, with riata in hand,
moved on. The trees were low. with
an extraordinary growth of long limbs
near the ground, so that there was often
just room enough to ride beneath them,
while the entire tree would have a
spread of several hundred square feet.
Ahead appeared a maze of. trees, but
they were often Several hundred feet
apart, forming little glades into which
the sun poured.
It was in such a spot, where a patch
of mustard reared its golden tops to the
light, that we came upon the sought for
game. We were walking our horses.
drinking in the beauty of it all; when
Moreno gave a shout, and clapping
spurs to his bronco, sprang forward.
The rest closed in and faced for a mo-
upon the body of a sheep, and that, sur-
air with its eno1mous wings, it raised
itself eight or ten feet, when the whiil- l
111g riata of the Mexican fell ove1 its. {
neck. The fighting, struggling creatun
flapped heavily to the ground and began
a singular dance, holding up its wings
and vainly endeavoring to throw ofi the
rope. The bird presented an extraor
dinary stretch of wing, and was a mag-
nificent specimen of the California con
(101'. the largest bird found within the
borders of the United States.
After dancing and leaping round'in a
circle the condor made a vigorous spring
in the .air and seemed to clamber up-
ward, only to fall headlong again and
1011 over and over, biting at the lariat,
snapping its powerful beak viciously at
the horses, that trembled with fear at
the strange figure. Moreno held the
lariat around the pummel of his saddle
in a firm grasp, but in some way the
noose slipped and became caught square-
ly around the bird beneath its wings.
Thus partly relieved, it sprang into the
air, literally lifting the Mexican from
his saddle for a moment, suggesting the
power and strength of the bird
The condor having succeeded in en-
tangling itself in a tree, the party dis-
mounted and proceeded to pull it down
—no easy task—and finally the Mexican
was obliged to climb up and secure it.
The claws of the condor are not offensive
weapons, nor used as such, but the pew
erful beak was lunged at the climbei
like a sledge hammer, with a force sm-
ficient to have crushed a man s skull.
But the Mexican had taken ofi his j; 11: k-
et, and, boldly approaching the condoi
struck its head in return, warding all“
the blows of its powerful wings until it
became exhausted, when he sized it by
the neck and wing and lowered 11
to the ground, where it was secured and
bound.
Not half a mile away another fine
specimen was seen roosting in the tree»
but soon flew away, rising in gracefn;
circles until it attained to a vast height.
g-Philadelphia Times,
An Insulted Author.
There is a struggling young author i1.
Washington who hr (1 the misfortune 11
have a book published", and the addition
111 misfortune of never being able to sell
the second one to an y publisher.
A friend of his 1301.1 nim what he need
ad was advice f1 om those who made
money out of their W01 k, and a friend
of his in New York received salarie~
amounting to $10,000 a year from hi.
writings.
The two were brought togethe1 at th
house of a mutual friend, and the f0
lowing conversation was overheard: .
“I am very glad to meet you,” saiv:
the young man. “Advice from so s11:
cessful an author would be invaluabl
to me. .
“I will be glad to help you with an
suggestions I can make,” was the grz.
cious 1eply.
“\Vhat class of books do you find pa
the best?’
"Books, books?” was the response, 1.
a tone of great disgust. “Who told yo-
I wrote books? Any man can writ
books. You don’t suppose I could mali.
$10,000. a year that way, do you ?”
write adi er tisements, Sll, for some 0
the la1 gest houses' 1n the counti y Do -
look like a scribbler of books. s11?" an.
the indignant author left the room
Cu1ious Chinese Benevolence
In times of pestilence persons are pe1
mitted to 11 1tness gratuitously theatn
cal performances and displays of fire
works, the object being that their mind:
may be distracted thereby from the 'pre
sailing epidemic. In large cities plat. e.
- bags.
ore p1 ovided in which those in deem a
lion give up the battle of lit 0.).
vuiclly lay-"themselves down and ‘- -
—--.—r~
A CRAZY WAY ABANDONED“
Letters Should Now be Written Upon Gan-
secutive Pages of Paper.
The proper way rto write a letter
now-a—days is to write on-the first, sec-
ond, third, and fourth pages consecu-
tively, and from 'top to bottom, and
not as formerly to begin on the first
page, then turn to the third page, then
the second, and "then to the fourth. In
writing a letter, put at the hop of the
page the house address and the date.
In writing a note omit the date at the
top, but put it at the bottom, and the
house address only at the top. In
writing the date, write the full words
thirty-first, and do not use the nu-
merals for a note. '
In signing a note or letter it is yery
bad form 'to add 'one’s 'title to the name,
as Mrs. Franklin, 01' Miss Franklin, or
Mr. Franklin; but what man ever
thinks of doing such a thing as signing
himself Mr.? It is 'also bad form to
sign one’snamc in :any way that makes
it doubtful whether you are married or
single. To one’s intimates and friends
explanation 'is unnecessary. The
proper way when one is addressing u
stranger or a comparative stranger is
to sign as follows:
Very truly yours,
(Miss) Hilda Smith.
01',
Very truly yours,
(Mrs L. B.) Jeannette Brown.
It will be quite evident that the word
or words in 'parenthese-s are meant for
purposes of enlightenment only.
sign one’s self Mrs. L. B. Brown or
Miss Hilda Smith is to prove one’s lack
of polite knowledge—L. M. _K.,-in La<
dies World.
HOUSEHOLD ,HlNTS.
If an oil can is not at hand to remedy
a creaking "hinge the noise can often
be stopped by using a soft lead pencil.
Moisten the lead point and rub it into
all ‘the cracks and crevices that can be
reached.
When polishing mirrors, windows, or
picture glass with whitening, the best
way to use it is to have (it in muslin
Dampen the glass lightly, then
rub with the bag and polish off with
crumpled newspaper.
To preserve eggs, put them in a col-
ander and pour hot water over them,
wipe them dry, and pack in salt. The
hot water shuts the pores and they are
as fresh as when laid. Dry sand free
from moisture in place of salt is good.
Put a little turpentine into the tepid
water in which 'the delicate colored
stockings used with evening diesses
are washed for the first time. It will
prevent the colors from fading, and if
the hose are allowed to soak a few
hours in the water it will be better.
A glass stopper should be used in a
bottle containing acid, for the contents
would quickly consume a cork stopper,
but if the cork is first simmered in vase-
l-inc and then used it will be impene-
trable ‘to acids or chemicals of any
kind and as air tight as a glass stopper.
An excellent substitute for potatoes
at a dinner is rice cooked in milk and
well salted, put into a dish and
browned in the oven. Make a hot
lemon sauce and pour'it over the rice
when it is taken from rthe oven and just
before the dish is sent to the table.
Stained borders of floors will require
doing over once a year if worn places
are not to become noticeable. The
stain and varnish may be bought and
applied separately or mixed together
and applied at once. The latter is, of
course, the readiest method, but the _
former is perhaps the more lasting.
To keep the varnished wood of fur-
n‘iture looking fresh and bright it
should be rubbed therough'ly with oil
from time to time. Only a little '011
should be used, and that carefully
rubbed in with a flannel until it seems
to have all gone; otherwise it will catch;
the dust and the wood will look worse
than if it had been left alone.
.—
NOTES mu ETTE.
When flavoring has been forgotten
in a pudding or cake the fault may be
remedied by rubbing the desired ex-
tract over the outside of 'the cake as
soon as it is 'taken from the oven.
A low-cut gown should never be worn
in daylight; it is full dress, and full
dress is intended for the evening and
night. A bonnet is strictly for day
wear; it is not worn for evening dress.
When one is in evening dress one must
not wear a bonnet.
Paint and powder are distinctly bad
form. A‘girl who appears in public
with paint on her face is at once con
demned either as ignorant 01 fast. V is-
ible powderlng is also bad for,n1 pow-
der if applied at all, when it has ab—
sorbed perspiration and taken the shin-
ingeffect from the Skin, should be
wiped off. For no other purpose is it
allowable in good society.
It is very bad form to go abroad
with one’s handkerchief saturated
with cheap perfume, and one’s clothing
reeking with the same. It shows lack
of consideration for the feelings of
other people. Perfumes having musk
in them are sickening when they are'
stale, and nauseatc delicate persons.
Cheap perfume and lank tobacco are
on the same scale of vilencss and in-
elegance.
The dress of young girls in the most
refined society in this country is sim-
ple; the material may be 'of the most
costly description, but there is no great
elaboration of trimming. Jewels are
not worn, unless it may be somethnig
'very simple; flowers are considered
best form for young girl's, and one or
two choice .buds or blossoms with
their foliage sudicient display.
_.,_._... . /
_ 1.
To '
Vertical -
Flues
"row-1"
leading to a radiator are self-
cleaning and conduct the intensely
heated gas against all parts of the
radiator, thus utilizing all products
of combustion. Vertical flues are.
synonymous with economy, and .
economy in the Bay State is conSid- ' l
ered in every feature of its develop- - ,
ment. Consult your local dealer.
BARSTlil‘T»f .STG‘VE C0., 228 Water St., New York
Foundri s—Pruvi; ence, R. I. Boston Office—56 Union St.
' fiL‘d@®@®@ 61%?
®@6 ‘4 s ' ‘ A
eeeeeeeeeeeell
@I
‘ 7. scams
: 11111111
is handsome, light, dur able. Such grace of design as
is embodied in this “fast, cam-running, much-tal E{ed—
about” mount can only be secured by the most
approved methods, finest material and skilled work-
mansliip.
. The ’96 Stcarns IS the best bicycle it is possible to
produce. Finished at your option in orange or black.
Address now for beautiful new catalogue.
. “the Yellow “Fellow."
E. C. STEARNS 6: C0., Makers. Syracuse, N. Y.
q;
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. TORONTO, ONT.
@‘XGXGXGXGXGXGXGKG
H. R. BULKLEY & 00.. Agents, SOUTH NORWALK.
T'owle Vault Light Company,
MANUFACTURERS.
VAULT LIGHTS. SKYLIGHT.
M0 PATENT LIGHT DESIGNS.
Factory: omce: ‘ 1
481 BRIGGS AVENUE, 161 ELM-STREET,
BRGGKLYH. NEW YORK.
Chosen by the .
Government ;~
The War D
recently for pro
Result: Bids from
pro to test the bicycle for army use, and
mutosalgoldifixmishmg bicycles for the purpose.
to $85 each for other machines; our bid of
$100 each for Columbias, their invariable price. {And the Govern-
meat” selected
STANDARD OF THE WORLD
The experts who madethe choice 152- 'j‘ j ‘
cided that Columbias were worth every -, ,
'dollarofthc$100askcdfctthe me.
any
If we are able to pay $100 for
a bicycle, 'why be content with
anything but a Columbia?
Beautiful Art Catalogue of Columbia and Hartford Bicycles is free if You calluPO
Columbia Agent; by mail from us for two a-ccnt stamps
POPE MFG. CO., Hartford, Conn-
Branch Storec and Agencies in almost every city and town. If Colombian are 30*
properly represented in your vicinity let, us know. . , _ , ,
Norwalk Chronicler