.3 L. if . i.- MN 5. -__ ' A HAPPY MISTAKE. “Daisy, did I hear you promise that -—iihat fellow to go to the picnic with him next Tuesday?” ' “‘What fello-w?”"asked Daisy icfiy “You know who I mean.” Dick was. pale with jealousy and wrath. “I presume‘fithat I can go with whom I choose,” answered Daisy, 'haughtily. “So you can; and I want you now to make your choice; but I.tell you, once for all, that if you throw me 0 .cr for that Fenwick you will be done with me forever.” . . " ’hat ‘right have you to speak to me in that tone? I am not your slave, and I shall go with Doctor Fenwick to the picnic.” ‘ - “Very well.” he said shortly, and turning on his heel, walked off in the direction of the barn. As Daisy entered the cool dining- room Miss Maria was standing at the window with her arms akimbo, gaz- ing after Dick. “That boy,” she said solemnly, “that boy ain’t himself. I shouldn’t be sur- prised if he’s driven to do something ’ desp’rate,” and she looked resentfully at Daisy. “You don’t eat anything, Daisy,” l'indly said Uncle Edward, who never :yrw much of what was going on'right ‘efore his eyes. “Maybe you think the weather’s too warm for hot rolls and cakes? Well, take some iced milk and berries. Why, bless me! What’s the mater with the child?” Daisy had burst into tears. “Please, uncle—aunt—excuse me,” she said, and hastily left the room. She did not go up-stai-rs, but out of. doors‘ where she could relieve her heart by sobbing unseen and unheard. Pas-sing throng-1T the garden and the orchard, she followed the little fogt- path which led to a pretty Itrip ’bf woodland, where in a cool ravine ran a narrow but rather deep‘stream be- tween mossy banks. Theue had been a little'rustic bridge leading to the hillside beyond, but this lia‘d been lately washed away, after a heavy rain and—wasn’t that Dick, his arms folded, with his eyes bent upon the deep pool which the rocks had just here pent in? l. A sudden fear seized Daisy. Surely, surely, Dick could not be thinking of drowning himself. She stood still and "breathless, watching him. Presently he started, as if from a nnevery, and with his lips compressed into a firm look of resolve,-picked up :a coil of rope which lay at his feet. Then he walked round and round a tall, straight tree, growing close to the edge of the stream, loking up into its thick foliage as if for a convenient branch to which to attach it. For a moment she felt paralyzed, but as she saw Dick carefully make a noose on one end of the rope, and prepare to climb the tree, the spell was broken. She rushed forward with a. wild shriek and threw .her arms about him. “Oh, Dick—dear such a dreadful thing. yourself, Dick—for my Dick—-—don’ t do Don’t hang sake, don’t. 'Oh, forgive me, dear Dick, and, I’ll never tease or grieve you again.” He looked down into the white face of the sobbing girl, and his stern eyes softened. But then he said gloomilyt— “How can I believe you, Daisy? You have as good as told me that you do not love me, and without you I don't care to live.” "Don’t talk so dreadfully. —-—I do love you.” “Answer me truly, Daisy. Do you really love me?" “Yes,” sobbed the girl. “Indeed I do. Dick! Please throw away that dreadful rope!” “Not yet, Daisy. Do you love me above everybody else in the world?" “Yes—oh, yes.” “And you will marry me, Daisy?” “Yes, I will, Dick; indeed I will!” Dick flung the coil of rope into a thicket of laurel on the other side of the stream. and drawing Daisy to him, kissed her solemnly. “Remember you have promised to be my wife, Daisy.” “Yes." 511») answered'meekly. And so. (land in. hand. .they returned through the orchard and the garden to the house. Uncle Edward was sitting on the Dick! 1 top step of the porch contentedlyfi smoking his pipe. “\Vell. Dick," said he, cheerfully. “have you fixed that tree with the rope all ready to pull it down in the right direction?” “No.” answered Dick, quietly, “I’ll attend to it to-morrow.” “Well, don’t forget it. for the sooner that bridge is finished the better, if we want to get the hay over in good time.” ~ Daisy stopped and looked straight up into Dick’s face. “You have deceived me,” she said. indignantly. “No. Daisy. I haven't:' you deceived rm'rself. dent. and I’m very glad of it. I assure you.” . “Glac.” said Daisy. reproachfully. and with her face all crimson with blushes. ‘ “Because but for that I might never have gotten you to say ‘yes;’ arid we might both have been forever miser- able. But how happy we are going» to be for all the rest of our lives.” “Still. it was a dreadfully mean trick," Daisy murmured, “and if you over say a word about it to any one I'll never forgive you—never.” Tcachcr——Tommy. into how many . ,.-!asses is the human race divided? Tommy—Five. Teacher—What are they? Tommy—Enlightened. civilized, hall ~r-ivilized. savage and Spaniards—New "York World. Nurse—Tommy. there's some jam on your cheek. Tommy (with/interesti—There isn’t any worth eating. is there? ° 5 :thcn-~crawled to the window. a ' “You shall not go—I would rather see you dead at my feet.” “I shall go, father—some day.” And so she went out of his life. . He was an old Puritan—grim, as- cetic, dead to all pleasure an‘dlamuse ment. There were but three things for him: his Bible, his sword and his daughter. He had laid aside his! sword, for he was growing old; but!" the Book was always by him, and he' loved to interpret it in his own harsh} fashion. And then his daughter—but she had gone. ,, She was young and beautiful, pant» ing for all that makes life sweet and grateful—for love, for triumph, for, the applause of thousands. She had resolved to be an actress and to have them all. She was stifled in that ugly, ' square house in Scotland. So one day she disappeared, and James Gordon was left alone"wit-h his Bible. Meanwhile Ruth Gordon’s name was on everyone’s lips in London. Her beauty had brought her all, she had ever dreamed, more than she could ever have hoped. It was the last night of the burlesque wherein she made herself famous. The house Was crowded, and she excelled herself in every song and dance. At the clOse of the piece the stage was ’covered with bouquets fro-m admirers—from men she knew and from men who wished to be known to her. Then, when the curtain had gone down for the last time, she picked up one or two of the offerings and went ed to the dressing room. One she held in her hand had attracted her by its uncommon shape and condition. It was a half-faded cross of white l'illies. She threw it contemptuously on her table, and pressed the other—the gift of a young earl—to her lips. “Who dared send me that shabby thing?” she said tb her dresser, and then picked it up, from sheer curiosity to see the name of the man who had ventured to offer it. She dropped it, and uttered a cry of surprise and pleasure, then picked it up again and kissed it passionately. The label read: “To my daughter. Come home. I am angry no more.” Truly'it was the happiest day of her life—a triumph and reconciliation. She left for Scotland How slowly the train. crawled on through the darkness! She could not sleep, and she watched the lighted towns go by one by one until the dawn. She drew near her home, and the scenery became more familiar. Every spot she passed was bright with mem- ories of childhood. The train slowed down and stopped. She got out. left her luggage at the station, and walked towards her home. _ In ten minutes she had reached the house. It looked more cold and grey than ever after the brilliance of Lon- don. She hammered at the door, waited for a minute or two. and then struck it again. Presently faint shuf- fling footsteps sounded in the hall, the door opened slowly, and Jeannie, the old servant, confronted her. She threw herself on the old woman’s neck and kissed h§r withered cheeks. “My father,” she cried, “is he well? Oh, I am so happy. Jeannie.” And she tried to pass her, but the old woman stood in the way, the tears rolling; down her face. The girl shivered in her rich sables. i and stepped" back. "Jeannie, Jeannie. what is it? Let me by,” she cried. and pushing her aside. she rushed into the dark din- ing-room. where her father was wont to sit. The oaken chair was empty. but the Bible lay on the table—open at the book of Ruth. One passage was- marked with a blue pencil. It was‘ the verse beginning: “E'ntreat me not. to leave thee.” The blue penscil had dropped to the floor. Jeannie had followed her into the room with tottering steps. “Where is my father, Jeannie. does he not expect me?” “Come -awa’.’he is not here." “Not here?” .. "‘He is not here. I tell ye.” shriekcd ! thx old woman. “Come awa’,’ and.i clutching hold of the girl, she tried to drag her from the room. 5 Ruth shook off her feeble hold and‘ turned upon h‘ér like a tigr‘css. ‘ “Where is he? What have you done to him?” she‘cried. The old woman moaned to herself.! There was a distant view of the kirkyard on. Ill) side of the purple hill. The Set- ting sun fell on the white stones and they glittered like stars. She pointed her skinny finger in silence and then croaked: “Yonder. yonder. yonder.” The girl looked out. straining her eyes to see the beloved form. When thel white stones flashed upon her sight. the awful truth began to dawn \ that night. upon her. “Yonder," she muttered. almost un- consciously. Then she broke into a, wild laugh, and flung herself into a? chair. She read the marked passage. ’ and laughed again, still morewildly. “So I killed him. Jeannie, I killed him, and he—how much did he pas you, Jeannie, to do this thing? All his wealth? It is well. It was not too much for a deed like this." “Stay, Missie, stay,” she whined out. i putting her fingers to her ears to shut out the terrible voice. “Y9 shall have it a’. I am auld, and the money —I couldna’ help it.” “Keep it; it is accursed. I would not touch it if I were starving. But thecross, woman, the cross of liliys?” “It was his orders,” she whimpered. “It was—Oh, the pair bairn, the pulr bairn.” ‘ . “It was what?” the girl said, hoarse- ly, rising from the chair and gripping the old woman by the arm. “Speak, you old hag, speak.” 1 . “It was from his grave.”——Blaci Ind Willa THE Lynslsu , . l ' ' THE cnoss or LILIES. _‘ English"! nonwm. ”What'rhey Say In South Nor- walk Will Bear'Repeat- ing in Norwalk. o } Readers of the South Nor-walk papers have been familiar with it for over two years. At first it created considerable excitement and the residents. were anxious and ' curious to know whose statement would be the next published. Week after wee: went by and the good people of South Norwalk ceased to wonder. and settled down to the fact that what so many of their neighbors said must be true. What was success- ful in South Nor-walk, is successful in Norwalk. Any medicinal preparations that carries out its representations to the letter, like Dean’s Kidney Pills, becomes a house-hold necessity. Ask any citizen of South Norwalk what will cure their back; the answer invariably is Doan’s, Kidney Pills. One of those whose testimony has helped to push the good work along is Mr. Frank St. John, No. 56 Taylor avenue, a lock- smith by trade, in the employ of the Norwalk Lock Co., who says: “I am not the only one engaged in the calling who suffers from backache, a‘g- gravated by the constant change of position and the bending and snooping. There are others in the factory and in the city I know who are troubled in the same way. I had some disorder of my kidneys which led to a. constant and painful backache. I procured a. box of Doan’s Kidney Pills at a drug store and they brought about entire relief. I am only too pleased to recommend so valuable a preparation.” Endorsation like the above is abun- dant in Norwalk Ask Glendening & Co. what their customers report. Doan’s Kidney Pills for sale by all dealers. Price 50 cents. Mailed by Foster Milburn C0.. Bufialo N. Y., tole agents for the U. S. Remember she name Doan’s and take no substituet- Pets Travel In Baskets. Not to be debarred from carrying Fido on railroads where dogs are not allowed, except in baggage cars, the up-to—date woman has adopted an in- genious device. Some of the large stores have been displaying unique wicker baskets of a pattern and 'finish which immediately attract the atten- tion of the shopper. These baskets are shaped like an ordindry market basket, though finished a little more artistically, and are opened at one end for ventilation, but barred by rat- tan rails to prevent Fido from escap- ing. Madam can carry her pet on board a train and, provided the dog or tabby makes no noise, she is free from detection. - : Other shops are showing bags: for cats, parrots, monkeys and dogs. These bags come in all sizes, are oil~ cloth lined, and shield the pet from the conductor’s objecting eyes. Each end of the satchel has heavy wire gratings, which admit the air, and may be instantly covered by canvas screens in case a railroad official comes uncomfortably near.—~Philadel- phia Press. ' Field Glass Thar 550w? Distances. The latest improvements in optical instruments is a gauge attached to a field glass and a prismatic lens in one of the barrels to determine the dis- tance of an object. This is accom- plished by producing two images of l the object seen, one superimposed upon the other. The prism creates the an- gle which forms the basis for the mathematical calculation of the dis- tance, and the scale contains the so- lution in advance of the geometrical problem. On the barrels of the glass are human figures—one of an infant- ryman and the other of a cavalryman --with a graduated scale. By observ- ing the portion of the body against which the top of the second image is projected and consulting the scale the distance of the object is easily ascer- tained. Of course the accuracy of the test depends upon accurate focusing of the glasses and careful observa- . tion.—Jewe1er’s Weekly. Spiced Hcr'b Vinegar. This is a valuable addition to sauces and salads, and a few drops added to a mince or hash will give it a. piquant flavour. Put into a clean dry bottle one tablespoonful of finely—chapped chervil; one tablespoonful of tarragon, also chopped; one shallot, minced; one dozen peppercorns; a salt-spoonful of celery-seed, and one clove of garlic; pour over the herbs and spices half a ‘ pint of the best French vinegar; cork the bottle tightly and seal it with wax. In a week or ten days strain the vinegar through muslin into another bottle. It should be shaken two or three times while the herbs are being steeped in it. ..., “This is the bill from your oculi-st,” said the collector to Mr. Grimley. “Just take it back and tell him that I can’t read it with those glasses he sold me.”——Detroit Free Press. Wickwire—Say, I have been carry- ing these I. 0. U.’~s of yours until that are almost worn out. ' Mudge—Don’t they make a mi’ ble quality of paper nowadaysl—G cinn-ati Enquirer. 4:5,? .. TE]. , Don’t Maize figs ERS Mailers _ CELEBRATED Worse . .«’ by trying this and that med- icme‘for dys- pepsia, indi- ., gestion a nd n e r vousness. Take. Hostel:- - ler’s Stomach Bit t e r s. It. . .. , goes to the “'3‘" ' root of the N STOMACH c a u s e. and on r e 5 th e whole body by curing the stomach. ' sir-tens HOW HE Was During. The messengers of a certain Europ- ean State who travel to and from the adjoining capitals may easily be rec- ognized by the red wallets they carry, emblazoned with the arms of the state in gold. The agents of the great pow- ers travel in the most unostentatious style, and would be very fearful of carrying any important State papers in a blazing red wallet. The State of which we speak being an unimport~ ant one," its little army is decked out in the most gorgeous uniform—bythe way, the pockets of the uniform are always empty; but that is another matter—and similarly the usual Gov- ernment papers are of so triv- ial a nature that it would matter just as little whether they went through the ordinary post or whether they were heralded by a brass band. On one occasion, however, it did happen to matter. and the bearer of the con- spicudus red wallet came unmistak- ably to grief, and is at the present ‘moment the owner of an obscure cafe in London; and who can tell—but to our story. The messenger, who was then a younger and not so wise a man as he is now, had gaily completed three- quarters of his journey, and had ar- rived at Buda-Pesth in the best possi- ble spirits, and in the knowledge that his task was nearly completed. His wallet had never left his sight from the moment he started until now. He was in a fair way to fortune. If there‘ is anything more than an- other calculated to make a young man on the Continent lose his head it is the sight of a young and beautiful Englishwoman. But to travel alone with the most charming woman he had ever seen put the young courier in a tremor from head to foot. carriage and contemplated her as calmly as he could. She certainly was most ravishing, with that delicate pink and white complexion and clear blue eyes. She 'was English, there was no doubt about that. The dirty white lalbels with Charing Cross print- ed on them on her black dressing trunk that lay beside his red wallet proclaimed her such. But she had not deigned yet to give him even so much as a look. She unwound the fur that encircled her neck and dis- played the charms of the whitest and mast symmetrical throat he had ever seen. Bier hand, too, when she re- moved her glove, was sparkling with gems that made the young 'man the more desirous to find out who she could be. His mental endeavors to find some sort of excuse to speak to her re- mained unsolved. At last the train stopped. An official thrust his head into the window and asked if madame had not ordered tea, to which she re- plied in French that She wished to have it brought to her. Here was the young courier’s opportunity, which he embraced in an instant. She gave him the SWeetest of smiles, and be rushed off to get the English beverage. Had be seen the action of the lady during his absence his heart would have stood still. Quick as a cat she touched a spring in her black trunk, which opened in a second. Thrusting the luckless courier’s red wallet into it she drew out another so exactly alike in appearance that when he re- turnedJ accompanied by a servant car- rying tea on a tray, he glanced at the sham red wallet and believed it to be his own. Could greater fortune have befallen him? he‘thought, as he sat and sipped the tea from the cup which she grac- iously handed him, while she looked 'the‘ picture of loveliness as she music- ally laughed and chatted with him, now that the ice was broken. Never had eyes looked so deeply violet, nor lilps so perfect of shape and hue. Hours passed as minutes—«it is ever so in the fool’s paradise, but after all who shall say that the fool’s is not the paradise of paradises? The wise man is too wise to have one. The English lady proved to be the daughter of Lord Trathan, and the de- lighted courier kissed the card his fair companion gave him (it was the way of couriers in those days) when she parted company with him at Vi- enna. Alas, poor young man, how was he to know that Lord Trathan was unmarried, and that his fellow- traveller was none other than La Belle Pucelle. alias Madam‘ Kratov, alias the Countess de Varnac, and the bearer of I don’t know how many more sham titles, one of the astutest secret service agents in Europe. The treaty he had carried was on its way to Paris when he presented himself at the Foreign Office at Vien- na. The Austrian Minister looked at first very grave and then flew into a violent rage. asking the astounded courier the meaning of the sham treaty which he thrust into his tremb- ling hands. There was a. fine scene, and the poor wretch Was not sorry to take his leave, although when he stepped'out of the salon he was a ruined man. The little State still sends it: cour- iers toand fro with red wallets, and the proprietor of the little cafe hear Regent street, London, 'dare not, even if he would, return to his native coun- try, where a dozen of those toy sold- iers would Xbe drawn up in a line. and he would be shot as a traitor to his country. But then everybody does ‘not know the story of the beautiful English lady with the blue eyes and white—Golden Penny. “Say, I’m paying this war tax with out a blessed grumble.” “Why so pheerful?” “You know that typewriter who talks all the time?" a c‘Yesf’ “Well, I keep her licking stamps all , duy long."—-Cleveland Plain Dealer. ‘ , He sat in his corner of the railway. oAthrh" A .4- l THE YEAR RIGHT BY SUBSCRIBIN ‘ FOR THE * Kll llZiTi‘i AND NY. WEEKLY TRIBUNE. Born PAPERS Sent [20.13.1137 Address . FOR One — Dollar! ADDRESS Amorous-.10 Gfll'llll.
Norwalk Chronicler