CHAPTER Xl—(Continued.)

•'Well, let them watch It. We tiha.llcot op* n it, and they can never breakIt down/’

“! would not be too certain of that.;tk oKieur” said Pasdeloup, gloomily.“They have learned many things at

I“uri». Goujon boasted that, even un-armed, the people had taken a greatprison called tie Bastille —but mostprobably lie was lying.”

“No," said his m ister in a low tone,

Tn that particular, at least, ho spoke

the truth. But miracles do not repeatthemselves.”

They no doubt have other means atcommand,” responded Pasdeloup, grim-

ly, "without calling in the aid of thegood God.” _

. ,No doubt they have.’’ agreed his

Ji.holri , “mil ai least we can reducethe number of those assassins." andhe drew his pistols.

But Pasdeloup laid a warning handupon his arm.

"Not yet, monsieur,” he said. I

may be mistaken. Perhaps there Isyet a chance. Perhaps those otherswill refuse to Jotu them, perhaps theywill grow weary, after a time, anddepart for home, content with suchplunder as Hiey can carry away withthorn. But if we begin the attack theywilt be on lire In a moment."

"You are right," agreed his masterand slowly returned his pistols to hisbelt "Bet us wait, then. And inthe meantime, Pasdeloup, do you tollus how you came to know so wellwhat Goujon was planning—andmore especially, why, since you didknow It, you did not give me warn-ing?"

Pasdeloup hesitated a moment."I will tell you, nonsleur,” he said

at last, "aad you will see that I amnot to blame —that I did what I could.You perhaps know the inn of the BelleImage at Dange?”

“I have heard of It.""I was thero one evening a week

ago. drinking a glass of wine dur-ing an hour Laroche had taken my

place at the gate. It was the firsttime that he hod ever proposed sucha tiling, but that night he came to

me and told n>o of the wonderful newwlno lit the Belle Image, so good and«c cheap, since It no longer had topay tribute to the church and to thoaristocrats. He ended by saying thatas he had nothing to do for an hourhe would take my place at the gatewhile I went to the Belle Image andtasted tho wine. I *xmfess I was sur-prised; he saw it and explained thathe wanted me to test for myself oneOf th 3 benefits the republic had con-ferred upon the people. So I went.1 saw afterward that that was nothis purpose at all."

"I can guess what his purposeWfiß,” said M. la Cornte, "but con-tinue your story."

"I was, as I have said, drinking mywine,” continued Pasdeloup, “whichwas truly of a surprising excellence,when a man came and sat down be-

ed«- me, For a moment I did notsow him; then I saw It was Goujon.

He greeted me with a kindness whichsurprised me when I rememberedthat It was I who had helped to cap-ture him; but he seemed to have for-gotten that. I saw that he was welldressed and that his hands worewhite. He ordered a bottle of wineoven superior to that which I wasdrinking, invited me to *oln him, andbegan to tell me of the wonderful•vents which were happening In Paris—events vhlch would end by makingus all free and rich and happy. He•aid that tho aristocrats and thepriests had been starving and robbingand killing us for 500 years, und thatnow it was our turn.

” ‘You remember that your ownmother was starved to death Paade-loup,’ he said

" ‘Yes.’ I said. 1 remember that.** 'Although enough to feed a hun-

dred people was wasted every day attho chateau/

” ‘Yea’ I agTeed, ’perhsf 1 that istrue.’

”‘You know how she would havetseen beaten had It been known that•he stole even a moC of food fromthe pigs/

“‘Yes,’ I said again; ‘Iknow' that/" ‘You may perhaps remember/ he

went on, with a frightful contortionof the countenance, ‘the punishment Isuffered for trapping a hare.’

¦*' ‘Yes/ I said. ‘1 remember/*' ‘And do you think It Just, good

God!’ he cried, ‘that a man should•uffer like that for a fault so trivial?Yet that la what was happening dayby day’all over this broad land ofFrance I What could we do? Theytook our grain for their bread, ourflocks for their meat, nur danyhiaf* fortheir pleasure. Did we so much asprotest, we were hanged on the nearestgallows as a warning to others not tolift their heads. We might live or die.•t&rve or rot—what did it matter? Wewere leas to them, as you have seen,than the swine in their pens!’ I do notknow, added Pasdeloup, In anothertone, “whether all of this was true; butit had a certain air of truth about 11"

“Most of it was true, I fear.” saidM let Comte, in a low voice, “thoughI had never looked at It In quite thatway"

'•There Is a great difference, is therenot, monsieur," asked Pasdeloup, "inwhether one looks at a thing fromabove or below?"

••Yes," agreed his master, still morequickly, '‘there la"

"At any rate," continued Pasdeloup."Goujon grew more and more excitedwith each word he uttered. 'Why Is it,*

- fc* 'that SuiTic people wearlace and Jewels and others only rags?Why should a noble's pigs be treatedbetter than his peasants? Why shouldthe peasants toll from year to year inorder that the priests and the aristo-crats may live in idleness with theirwomen and have fine wines to drinkand One clothes to wear, and greathouses to shelter them, while we whomake the wine, and spin the cloth, andbuild the houses, have only swill andrags and hovels? Why should they be¦warm In winter and we cold? Whyshould we permit their game to de-stroy our crops, without being per-mitted to raise a hand to prevent It?*

•* ‘I do not know,’ l answered, 'ex-cept that It has always been so,*

'“Well, It will be so no longer!’ hecried. 'We are going to change allthat. We are going to reverse things.Monsieur Veto has already sneeaed !rtthe sack: the Austrian woman and herwhelp will follow him.’

"'And what then?’ I asked."Then we shall be free, Then wa

ahall set about the work of establishingliberty, equality, fraternity. But firstwe will stuff the nobles’ mouths withdust, Just as those good fellows at Parisstuffed old Foukm's mouth with hay.Come, you must Join us, Pasdeloup. You

•**j will think of It,’ I said, and re-turned to my post at the gate.

Mid

TAVERNAYA Tale of the Red 1 error

BY BURTON E. STEVENSON.Author of “The Marathon Mystery,” "The Holladay Case,” “A Soldier of

Virginia,” etc.Copyrighted, 1 !>•!>, by Burton E. Stevenson.

what Goujon had said, and I confess,M. le Comte, that It appeared to mereasonable. So long ns I had Imaginedthat things were ns they were becausethe good God so willed It, I had notquestioned them; but now I began tosuspect that perhaps the good God hadno hand in them at all, and that theonly thing left for us was to do whatwe could to help ourselves. Tho nextnight, I Inquired for Laroche, but noone had seen him;' so, leaving the gateopen—the first time that I had everdone so—l hastened to the Bello Image.Goujon was awaiting me; again hebought wine and again he laid beforemo the wrongs of the peasantry. Atlast I told him that I would Join theSociety which he was organizing atDange. It was not until I had takenthe oath, that I discovered what !twas he intended to do. He thoughtmo wholly his, and, Indeed, from nightto night, he convinced me moro andmore that Justice was on our side.

“Two nights ago, ho was for somereason very Jubilant and drank morethan usual. It was at that time thathe confided to me his passion formadamo; that he told me what It washe been doing In that attic at theinomftit you discovered him. Thenhe passed on to the plan he had inmind.

" ‘We have all the servants, now,Pasdeloup,’ he said; ‘even the women.Those we could not persuade webribed; those we could not bribe wefrightened Into Joining us. Tho plansare made, everything Is ready. Yourpart will be to open the gates for us/

‘‘‘Which gates?’ I asked.“ The gates of the chateau, of

course.’‘‘Of the chateau?’" 'Certainly, It Is of tho chateau I

am speaking. We are going to at-tack it/

” 'But M. le Comte is not there/ Iprotested.

“ ‘No.’ said Goujon, with a triumph-ant smile, ‘nor will ho ever again bethere. I have attended to that. La-roche has lured him Into our hands.First, I will bring him here In orderthat he may witness my revenge—mytriumph; then I will send him on toParis to celebrate his nuptials withMadame Guillotine/

“Then I saw the trap Into which Ihad thrust my foot. As he sat thereleering at rne, I was tempted to burymy knife in his belly, but I managedto control myself. It might be thatthere were other things which Ishould know.

“‘Well, then,’ I said, ‘since you al-ready have him, why attack the chat-eau ?’

“The leer on his face grow broad-er.

** You forget. Pasdeloup/ he said,‘that the women are there.’

** ’Well, what then?’“ 'What then, head of & pig! You

are stupid tonight! Do you suppose Ihave forgotten? You do not know thesleepless nights I have spent tossingon my bed, biting my pillow, at thoughtof what one day should be minelWell, my day has come—that womanis going to be mine now—that Is thetriumph which Favras Is to witness!Will It not be a pretty revenge?Could you think of anything prettier?’and he leered at me again and lickedhis lips with a tongue which seemedstrangely red and. swollen. ‘Youshall have the other; she shall beyour reward—and pardleu! it Is not tobe laughed at. You do not know, Pas-deloup, what soft, white skins these ci-devant women have!’ ”

I felt tny blood grow suddenly hotwith rage and a glance at M. le Comte’swhite face told me the agony he wassuffering at the thought that hls wifehad been profaned by even the glance*of this scoundrel.

"Go on," he said, hoarsely. “Andthen?"

"Perhaps something In my face be-trayed me,” Pasdeloup continued. "Atany rate, Goujon suddenly looked atme, then straightened back In hlschair.

"

'I have been talking nonsense, Pas-leloup,’ he said. *1 have taken toonuch wine. I am always saying absurdthings when I am drunk. You mustforget that foolishness,’

“He said It so naturally that I be-lieved him, more especially since, atthe moment, his head was wpbbling sothat he could scarcely keep It off thetable. But, when I reached the chateauigatn, I found that my seal for thorevolution had vanished, since, eventrunk, one of Its leaders could proposesuch horrible things. I/ast night I re-mained at my post at the gate; but to-night an uneasiness seized me. I fan-cied that I detected some sort of un-derstanding among the other servants.At the first moment I slipped away toBango to learn ine truth. There I foundthat a detachment of the Blues hadjust come In by post, and had been or-dered forward at once to surround thechateau. All of that rabble yonder hadgathered In the square and Goujon wasaddressing them. The terrible thingshe was saying made me tremble. ButI listened only for s moment. Then Ihastened back to give you warning, andfound that I was already too late. Thatis all, M. ie Comte.”

His mi ster laid a friendly hand uponhis shoulder,

“I thank the*, Pasdeloup," he said.“Whatever the event, thou hast donethy best. Thou hast paid thy debt ahundred fold.”

A sudden frenzied outburst of yellsinterrupted him. We looked down againand saw a procession emerging fromthe house upon the terrace. Beforethem they were rolling half a dozencasks of wine and spirits.

“We shall see now," said Pasdeloupgrimly, “how manv of them will shout'liOng IJve the King!’ ”

CHAPTER XII.

Madnsst Becomes Frenzy.

In a moment, the casks were broach-ed, and the liquor, In whatever recep-tacles were at hand, was passedaround from mouth to eager mouth.No one made the slightest attempt tohusband it. and it was soon pouringdown over the steps In little purplerivulets. The faces of the crowd, asthe flaring torches and dancing flamesrevealed them, became more and moreInhuman, their shouts hoarser andmore menacing, their actions more andWon bestial, until I felt my cheekagrow hot at the thought that thosecreatures belonged te humankind. Trulylong centuries in the hadrendered them unfit for the light!

Drunken pouples reeled hither andthither, shouting Incoherently; wom-en, forgetting their eex. pursued suchmen as made a pretense of escaping:a half-naked girl, mounted astride acask, shouteo coarse jests at six oreight scoundrels who were goingthrough the pretense of a mass.

"The Goddess of Reason!" said li.te Comte, hla eysa dwelling upon this|groiup; and, indeed, at that Moment,

K' i 2 .'Lb,

as the wretch who played the priestmade as though he was elevating thehost, those behind him burst forthIn a hoarse shout:

“Long live Ileason! Long liveReason!”

Attracted by the shout, others of thei crowd Joined the group, drank of the{ wine which the girl passed down tothem, and brgan a crazed Bachanaldance before her. Then a red-facedrogue dnshed up the stop to her and,screaming with laughter, tore her fewremaining clothes from her back.

“Long live Reason!” he shouted.“I baptise thee!” and he dashed a cupof wine over her glistening skin.

And another snatched a twig froma flowering shrub and, bending k intothe semblance of a wreath, placed Itupon her head.

“Long live Reason!” he shouted Inhls turn, but a woman In the crowd,jealous, perhaps of the attentionsshown the naked hussy, suddenlycaught up a clod of earth and dashedIt Into her face; whereup the goddessdismounted from her throne, vomitingforth I know not what vilenees, andwas caught up by the crowd tremblingwith rage and horror at the Impiousscene which I had witnessed, and thethought that our fair land cf Francelay at the mercy of such scoundrelsturned me sick at heart

Then one of their number mountedthe steps a.uu began to harangue them.I could catch only a word here andthere, yet It was easy enough to guess,from the frantic shouts which inter-rupted him, what his subject was Themob was In mood to commit any atroc-ity. It needed only the application ofthe spark.

M. le Comte’s face grew grave as hegazed down at them.

“That Is serious,” he said. "Whenthey begin to make speeches, It Istime to think of escape. Have you any-thing to suggest, Tavernay?"

“Ifwe could reach the ground on theside of the tower away from the mob,”I said, ‘‘we might escape into the wood,since there seems to be no watch ofany kind nor any one to intercept us.”

“Yes, but to reach the ground ”

“If we could find a rope ”

“Yes, but where?”"Is there none In the tower? Surely

we can find something ; ’

“At least, we can look," he said, andled the way to the stair.

I followed him, but Pasdeloup, hlsarms folded, his head sunk In reverie,kept hls place at the battlement, star-ing moodily down at the drunkenrevel.

We descended to the floor below,where Pasdeloup’s candle was stillfaintly burning. A glance at It show'-ed me that It had been half consumed.An hour more and we should be Indarkness —If, Indeed, we had not enter-ed the eternal darkness long ere that!

In the first moment, I thought theroom was empty; then I saw' madamehalf sitting, half lying on a couch Inone corner, holding the younger wom-an in her arms. As we approached,she raised a warning finger to her Ups,and I saw, with a sudden burst of ten-derness, that my love had fallen asleep,exhausted by the fatigue of the eve-ning.

“Do not disturb her,” said madameIn a low voice, but at that Instant thesleeper opened her eyes.

For a moment she stared up at usblankly; then her eyes met mine anda wave of crimson swept from browto chin.

T have been asleep," said she, sit-ting hastily erect. “In spite of all myboasting." she added, smiling up atme.

"Yes,” said M. le Comte; “and youshould be proud of your steady nervesand clear conscience, my dear. Notmany of us are able to sleep so peace-fully In the face of danger."

"Danger?” she replied, and lookedabout her. “Has it come, then?"

“Oh. not a pressing danger," he as-sured her. "Still, we must devise somemeans of escape before It becomes so.We shall have to take the light, I fear.”

"Do so," said madame promptly."Charlotte and I will ascend to theplatform.”

“It is not a pleasant sight that youwill see," said M. le Comte, "nor pleas-ant words you will hear "

"We are not children," broke inmadame. "Come, Charlotte.”

M. le Comte lighted them up thestair and then turned back to me.

"It Is evident there Is no rope here,”he said, holding the candle above hlshead and looking about the apartment’The old furnishings hang togetherbetter than one would think," he added.

It was not until then—so occupiedhad my mind been with other matters—that I perceived with what sumptu-ousness the place was fitted up. Thetapestries were faded and dusty, thecoverings of the furniture motheatenand decayed, and the room itself cob-webbed and moldy—but It was Im-pressive, nevertheless. It was a goodsized, octagonal, conforming In shapeto the tower, and in four of the sidessmall, shattered windows were setTapestries and furniture alike had evi-dently been of the most costly and ele-gant description.

•This was the boudoir of the fairGabrlelle." observed M. le Comte, look-ing about him with a smile. "It hasbeen years since I set foot here and Ihad forgotten how It looked. ycusee that with my ancestor it was a realpassion; he did not spare himself. Infact, I should hate to confess how much*first and last, she cost hls family. Be-low Is her bed chamber.”

(Continued Next Week.)

The Btony British Glare.Prom the London Evening Standard.Lord Crewe made a very Interesting

little speech yesterday at the annualmeeting of the Atlantic Union, & so-ciety which works for the Improvementof Anglo-American cordiality, and tothe relations between Englishmen andmen of other nations generally. Heaaid that one grave cause of Interna-tional misunderstanding was our “no-torious stiffness of demeanor, **

and hereferred to that delightful drawing byDu Maurier in Punch, in Which thetable d'hote of a foreign hotel In theslack season was depleted as populatedonly by two Englishmen, sitting at op-

{?osite ends of the table, glaring speech-esly at each other. All that he said

was true enough. We are undemon-strative. We are not men and brothersthe whole world round aa we should be.and as we shall be when Robert Burns 1

millennium comes at last. If we maybe allowed to say so, we can hardlypicture Lord Crewe himself respondingwith a leap Into the air and a Joyfiuhowl to the "How do, sonny T* of anOntario mine manager. He wouldprobably smile charmingly, bow mostcourteously and extend a friendlyhand; but the colonist would take allthat for coolness, and the AtlantiaUnion would have to explain.

Not for Him.Eroro the Kansas City Journal.

"Ever use the automobile for a get-away?" Inquired the first burglar.

“Nte," answered the second burglar.“We fellers run risks enough withouttaking phances on being pinched forspeeding."

A Contingency.From Llpplncott’s

•The early bird will get the worm,"Of that there is no question;

But if that worm should chancs toturn

; | He'd get the indigestion.

VANISHED BARONIS DYING SLOWLY

IN A SANITARIUMDaughter of Charles Coudert,

Famous Lawyer, but Re-fuses to Ask Aid of

Him

New York—Special: The mysterysurrounding the whereabouts of BaronH. Frederic Brennlg, husband of AimeeMarguerite Coudert, was dispelledwhen It was learned that he, afflictedwith a mortal Illness, was In a sani-tarium near Ridgewood, N. J. His wife,daughter of Charles Coudert. of theinternational firm of Coudert Brothers,Is earning a living for herself andmoney to pay for his treatment byselling clgarots to fashionable clubs inthis city and at summer resorts.

Baron Brennlg, a member of an oldA ustrip n family, was formerly UnitedStates vice consul at Batavia, Java. In1534 he married Mrs. Aimee CoudertSemple, widow of McKenzie Semple, aformer New York assistant district at-torney. Three years ago Baron Bren-nig’s health became so bad he was ro-moved to a sanitarium at Flushing, L.I. He left this place two months after-ward and since then has been at sev-eral "rest cures.”

The baroness refused to ask herwealthy father for financial aid,though she had seven children. Sheplanned to support them well by herown efforts. She established a cigaretfactory’ and built up an extensive trade.

One Child With a Friend.The baroness and six of her chil-

dren now occupy a cottage at Bel mar,N. J. Beatrice Brennlg, her 13-year-old daughter. Is with Mrs. Adolph La-denburg, at Newport, R. I. Her broth-ers and sisters insist she was notadopted by Mrs. I,adenburg, but Isthere on a long visit. Mrs. Brennlgspends three days of the week at theBelmar cottage and the rest of hertime at her factory or at a cottagenear the place where her husband isbeing treated.

While Baron Brennlgfs mental andphysical condition Is alarming, hewrites almost every day to his chil-dren, particularly his son, Charles, whowill inhertit the title.

That the baron la not being detainedin the Institution against his own willwas asserted by a close friend of thefamily. The friend said the baronrealized the seriousness of his Illnessand knew that remaining under treat-ment meant he might live many yearslonger.

The disappearance of the baron fromsociety caused much gossip, and theefforts of those close to him to keephis whereabout secret led to many con-jectures. His wife refused to say wherehe was staying.

Loyal Wife Does All She Can."We can do no more for the baron

than give him the best place to stayand such treatment as may bring abouth!s recovery," stud the before men-tioned close friend. "Mrs. Brennlg hasdone and is doing all that a loyal wifecan do for her husband. His lllneaawas a bad blow to the family.”

"My father la sick, but he has notforgotten us.” said Charles Brennlg InBelmar. "Father sent me a postcardyesterday, and I think he will be homesoon.”

Than the 12-year-old boy calledupon his 10-year-old sister, MarieAimee, to tell about a letter she hadreceived from their father a few day*ago.

Mrs. Airaee M. Coudert Sempla wasmarried to Baron Brennig In St. Pat-rick’s cathedral by Archbishop Cor-rigan. After a tour of Europe theywent to Java, where Brennig resumedhis duties as vice consul. Beatrice,who was born In Java, will bo educatedunder the guidance of Mrs. Ladenburg.Her brothers and sisters are Charles.12 years old; Marie, 10; Frit*, 8; An-toinette, 6; Jerome, 4, and Betty, 3.

The title of baron was discarded byBrennig when he came to this country.In Java ho was a highly popular mem-ber of the diplomatic service. His ill-ness resulted from overwork.

Just Lika Her.From the New York World.

“You know it was Charlie Ross whoinvented the form of silly season fool-ish fun they now call ‘Daffodillis,’ '*

said George Rector, at the Cafe Madridwhen the actor in question had hur-ried out from luncheon to return to therehearsals of “The Simple Life.”. “Youknow the kind, ‘Havg You Seen Rose?*‘What Rose?’ ’Rosewood.’ But Char-lie used to call them 'Chuckles.’ He andLew Dockstadcr and Jean Haver andVincent Bryan, the song writers, stillmatch to see who can originate themost Inane of these.

'But Charlie Ross can make real wit- itiriann.s, as these about him know. Iremember a little coterie of friends ofGharlie and his wife gave a Dutch din-ner dance in a Dutch brewery hall in >the Dutch town of Guttenberg N J jCharlie got there in good time, but !Mrs. Ross (Mabel Fenton) had to Icome up from the farm to New Yorkto get to the affair and was delayed. |Although there was a special trolley to *bring guests back from the dance and isupper to Weehawken ferry, the last itrolley car for Guttenberg had left 1when Mrs. Ross got on the other side.

Resolved not to be turned back Inthat manner, Mrs. Ross dickered withthe driver of an empty coal wagon.rr^ rning to the coal pockets In UnionHill after a late delivery, to drive herto the dance, It being the only vehiclein sight. She dashed up to the brew-ery dance at about 1 a. m. In good timefor the best part of the affair. A ladytrouble-maker took Mr. Rn*u aside

the entrance of Mrs. Ross und>»aid. "oh, Mr Ross, don’t you thinkit was dreadful, her driving all thatdistance in a coal wagon?*’

“Ves,” replied Ross "It was Just likeMabel, always picking out the costliestequipage!"

Breaking the News.From Human Life.

Marlon, who had been taught to re-port her misdeeds promptly, came toner mother one day, sobbing penitent-ly.

“Mother—l—broke a brick In thefireplace.”"Well, that is not very hard to rem-edy. Rut how on earth did you do it.

child ?”

pounded It with father's watch."

Proof.Do you believe, Doctor, that man la

made of duatr* asked the student"I don’t know about man,'* returned

the professor, "but I am sure girls aro—they make such a dickens of a lot oftrouble when they get in a fellow'seye.’’—Harper's Weekly.

Well Qualified.“The one thing we demand from our

•mployee." said the head of the officeroree. "ts correctness In figures.”

mJSI* *PP l,

lcant •soothed her hiplessskirt complacently.

"I never had any complaints onthat score,** she replied with a gfanoe«f aseuranoa.

i

My FunniestExperience

A LUMBER JACK'S IMPRESSION

By the Late Governor of Minnesota,John A. Johnson.

From the New York World.

DURING my campaign for governor Iaccompanied Mr. Winston throughthe northern part of Minnesota,

where we combined our forces to showthe citizens Just why they should vote ourticket. It was the latter part of ourcampaign and our voices and physical en-durance had been taxed to the utmost, butwo pushed on and concentrated ourgreatest efforts upon the camps of the“Lumber Johnnys.” Wo went from campto camp, first Winston and then I makingthe speech. The most arduous duty of allwas the tax of shaking hands, and wefound one lumber Jack who could not beoutdone In this art, if it can be calledan art. After the first greeting he some-how managed to meet us on every blockand, extending his hand as to an old ac-quaintance, he would say: “Why. hello,Johnson; how d'ye do?"

We laughed about It at first, but laterIt ceased to be amusing and got on mynerves. At the most unexpected momentshe would bob up serenely. He followed usfrom camp to camp and often anticipatedour itinerary, and would be the first togreet us upon our arrival. Just when webegan to congratulate ourselves that wohad lost him he would soon assure us ofour mistake.

At last, late In the night, we boardedour train to leave this region and had set-tled down In the Pullman quite exhausted,but not unmindful that I would have re-spite from my erstwhile admirer, I said tomy partner: “Well, we have lost him: atany rate there is something to be thank-ful for,”

But I was wrong again. Five minuteslater tho coach door opened and, stag-gering up the aisle with a broad grin, hecame with hands extended, arms out-stretched and exclaimed vociferously:"Well, well, well, here you are, and I’mmighty glad to see you. Say, I don't mindtelling you what I think of your speech.

You know me. I’m afraid to Bay what Ithink.”

He sat down upon the arm of the seat,put his hand familiarly upon my frlend'Bshoulder and addressed himself to me.

“Say, Johnson, I think your speech wasall right. That’s the kind to get voteswith, but I don’t think much of yourfriend’s oratory. He ain’t much of a talk-er. I guess I’ve sized you up all right.Your friend runs to brains and you runto tarn. Nature kind o’ fixes things upthat way sometimes.”

LOOKING FOR THE LOBBYIST.

By Regis H. Post, Ex-Governor ofPorto Rico.

STORY telling is an art in Itself andIt has never been an easy thing forme to tell a humorous story unless

Inspired by the good fellowship whichobtains at clubs and other public placeswhere wit Is ever supposed to be on tap.I well remember my first experience In

the legislature at Albany In the year IS9»,I had heard from Infancy, it had seemedto me, all about the wily lobbyist, and bo,of course, I was on the lookout for him.Day after day passed and no one appearedto convince me that the lobbyists werealive, and I had expected them to comeIn droves to dog my steps and make myllfo particularly strenuous to avoid them.

However, as the days lengthened Intoweeks, I began to have an uncanny sen-sation about the matter and came to theconclusion that the term lobbyist was afictitious one or that for some good reo-son they were shunning me. At last, oneday after two months of anticipation,while waiting for the session to begin, aman came toward me in a half hesitatingmanner that at once aroused my sus-picion. "Ah,” I thought, “here he come?at last."

He came on his tiptoes and said brleny,“Are you Mr. Post?"I assured him I was and asked him

what I could do for him."I would like to talk to you for about

five minutes,’’ he said."Go ahead," I urged to his discomfiture."Oh, not here, not here," he stammered.

"What I have to say to you had better betold in an ante-room."

My curiosity was aroused and I followedhim Into an adjoining chamber, all thetimo wondering how much he would offerme, whether S3OO or SI,OOO and I hadruminated upon my writhering speech andhow I would crush him with my answer.

Suddenly he paused and began his partof the program. In five minutes I wasspeechless with surprise. Instead of alobbyist, I was the victim of a book agentwho was offering for sale the completeset of an encyclopedia. I will add that Ibought that set and presented It to a pub-lic school as a penance for my suspicions.

THE HIDDEN TREABURE OFJARR’S GULCH.

By Alva Adams, Ex-Governor of Colo-rado.

WHEN I was about 30 years old Imigrated with all the members ofour family to Colorado, and we

camped in the mountains about 40 milesfrom Denver at a place called Jurr’sGulch. This cainp was named In honor ofMr Jarr, an eccentric Frenchman, whowas Its only inhabitant. nils roan hadlived there many years and had won dis-tinction from the miners for his exclusive-ness. He had kept his own confidence,selected an Isolated spot for his home, andso he was dubbed “a man with a history,"which meant In that neighborhood thathe had killed a man or that he was rich.At this time I was hauling ties to the

Denver «. Rio Grande read, which wasthen In course of construction, and hadbeen working there for Hi* months whenMr. Jarr surprised me one day by sayingthat he wanted to tell me a secret. I fol-lowed him into his cabin, he closed thedoor cautiously, listened and then saidagain tentatively: "Can you keep a se-cret?" I was excited with curiosity. Iexpected to be toW whore he had secretedthe wealth of the Incas, and I wanted toshout for Joy when he added “Followme.’*

He led me to a spring house not farfrom the cabin, and the marrow seemedto freeze In my bones when Mr. Jarrbolted tbs door after us and made me getdown on my knees ami solemnly swearthat I would never reveal to any humanbeing the secret that bo was about toshare with me. The light from the flick-ering candle fell on his face, and bewalked to the middle of the earthen floor,where he made a dramatic pause, stoppedand lifted a flat stone which I had noticedht-fore. Then, pointing to a lot of Jugs, hesaid: “There It ts; help yourself; It Is asmuch yours as mine, and If at any timeyou fee! like taking a good swig of whis-ky. come and drink your flit."

The Frenchman died many years ago,hut the recollection of his remarkableconfidence Impelled me to visit this spotafter an absence of K years.

Freshly cut bark of the cork tree,if heated, give# off « gss that can heus«d as aa UlumlnanL

A Skin of Baauty la a Joy Fftraw—-

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Gramm an* magical BaautWmm.

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‘C.otirnuda Cream’ m the least WuJtMl’Vffu¦he Nkln preinnulnnu." For Mate by all drnw*ts mdFanny-Goods Dealer* LnthoU A-.OiiU4la.juieiKqru^JFerd.T. Hopkins, Prop., 37 Great iotes St., Ke« York

VPWTi' WaraanE.Coleman,Want*Pal fcriTS arsasjr^ijat

SIOUX CITY PTG. CO.. NO. 35-19? aOn Some Ministers,

Tho worst o’ these here shepherd*

is. my hov. thst they reg'larly t U jn*

tho heads of all the yocmg ladiesabout here. Lord bless their littlehearts, they think It’s all right, anddon’t know no better; bnt they're thewlctlins o’ gammon, Samivel, they're»he wicilrns o’ gammon. Nothin' else,and wot aggregates roe, Sumtvel, l*to see ’em awastln’ all their tk*e andlabor In making clothes lor copper col-ored people as don’t wmat ’em and tak-ing no notice of flesh-colored Chris-tians as do. If I’d my way. Samtvel,I’d Just stick some o’ these here lazyshepherds behind a heavy wheel bar-row, and run ’em up and down *

14-inch plank all day That *ud shakethe nonsense out of ’em. If anythin’vould. —Mr Weller, Quoted by CharlesDickens.

Selfish Youth.“Youth Is apt to be selfish," said

Mrs. Mary E. Wilkins-Freeman, thedistinguished novelist, at a Matucheapicnic.

"Woman In her youth," she went on,’ls especially apt to be selfish. I’llnever forget the story of the young

man from Boston who stood In th*center of Boston common In a down-pour of torrential rain.

“As he stood there, soaked to th*3kin, a little boy In a mackintosh ac-

costed him

t“ ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said t.he boy, but

are you the gentleman who is waiting

for Miss Endicott?’“ Yes,’ the young man answered.*’‘Well,’ said the boy. ‘she asked ra*

to tell you she'd be here Just a* *oow

as It clears up.’ ”

He Had No Eye for Color,There came to uie no mu o* n Negro

In Tennessee an addition t.o the fam-ily in the shape of triplets. The proud

father hailed the first man who camealong the road and asked him lu to

see them. The man, who was an Irish-man, seemed greatly interested in theinfants as he looked them over, lyingIn a row before him.

"What does yo' think?" asked th*parent.

"Waul'’—pointing to the one In themiddle —“I think Pd save that one.”—Everybody’s Magazine

Real Modesty.“An actor should bo modest. and

most actors are,’’ said Jurats K Hack-ett at a luncheon In Pittsburg ‘Buii know a young actor who. at the be-ginning of his career, curried modestyalmost too far.

“This young man inserted in all thedramatic papers a want advertise-ment that said:

" ’Engagement wanted —small part,such as dead body or outside shoutspreferred ' ’’

Rockefeller’s Hard Shot.John D. Rockefeller tried a game of

golf on the links near Augusta. On srather difficult shot Mr. Rockefellerstruck too low with his Iron, and asthe dust flew up he asked his caddyi

"What have I hit?"The boy laughed and answered:"Jaw-jab. bosa."

Hard to Convince.Little Tommy (eldest of the family,

at dinner) —Mamma, why don't you

help me before Ethel?Mamma —Ladies must always corns

first.Tommy (triumphantly)—Then why

was I born before Ethel?—Tlt-BiU.

Right food is a basisFor right living.“There $ only one disease,**Says an eminent writer—-‘‘Wrong living“And but one cure —

“Right living.”Right food is supplied by

Grape=NutsIt contains the vitalBody and brain-buildingDements of wheat and barley—Most important of which isThe Potassium Phosphate,Grown in the grainFor rebuilding tissuesBroken down by daily use.Folks who use Grape-NutsKnow this—they feel it" There s a Reason**Read “The Road to Weßvifl***Found in packages,