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The Man Who Know®. Ascum—He's In the newsj/uper busl-

• Bess, too, isn't he? Editor—Oh. no, I'm sure he isn't. Ascum—Why, he gives the impres­

sion by his talk that lie knows all about, how a newspaper should be con­ducted, and—

: l'Jdil or—Exactly; that's why I'm sure.

Her First Trolley Ride.

•:< , A group of trafllc managers and au-. ditois at ilic convention of street rail­

s-sway men in Philadelphia were telling stories of street, railwaying. Irwin

» ; 'Fuller of Detroit said: "A pretty Irish girl, fresh from the

;. old country, sat in a trolley car, look­ing at the strange American country with modest interest.

"She had soft gray eyes, a face like roses and lilies, beautiful hair and white teeth.

" 'Your fare, miss,' said the conduc­tor, pausing before her.

"She blushed and bit her lip. • " 'Your fare, miss,' he repeated.

"'Sure,' aid the eirl, 'an' what if I foe? You must not be repcatln' it like that before folks.' "

Idaho Jo ins .

Fraser, Idaho, Nov. 27th (Special)—• Mrs. Manha .1. I .en has given for pub­lication the following statement, con-corning Uodd's Kidney IMlls:

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The Best Man. Jukes—Who was the best man at

the wedding? Jenkins—Well, I'm not sure. The

ibride's father got all the bills to pay, the bridegroom had to buy diamond brooches for the bridesmaids, the guests had to give handsome presents; upon my word, I think the best man •was the clergyman—he was the only one who made anything out of it-

t PATENTS.

List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors.-

Reported by Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 911-912 Pioneer Press building, St. Paul. Minn. John Bun-derle, Jackson, Minn., artificial leg; William Gibson, Hummer, S. D., auto­matic check row corn planter; John Isakson, Clinton, Mont., phonographic Instrument; William Merzenlch, Franklin, Minn., valve gear; John .Miller, Minneapolis, Minn., machine for making cement blocks; Edward Short, St. Paul, Minn., support for polo cross-arms; James Shourt, ( St. Paul, Minn., head and ear protector.

, * Next Door. f; f " W h a t d o y o u k n o w a b o u t t h e w o r l d , •lr? Didn't you spend your youth in a theological seminary?"

"Ah, but it was right next to a girl's college."

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*; On His Feet. "* "Thank you," she said, as he finally gave her his seat in the car, "it's al­most impossible to stand on your feet." "That was because I .kept pull­ing 'em out of your way, ma'am," he replied. .. - •< •

ATTRACTIVE YOUNG LADY agents wanted in every Town and City.—Complete outfit furnished free. We guarantee that you can make Trom $1.00 to $4.00 per day. Address P. O. Drawer No. 999, Buffalo, N. Y.«gf

In Bunches. Hewitt—Misfortunes never come

singly." Jewett—I know it; yesterday I re­

ceived two wedding invitations by the came mail."» , , ^ ,

tealRl-V.- wrr*

I do not believe Piso's Cure for Consumption has an equal for coughs und colds.—JOHN P. BoTKK, Trinity Springs, lml.. Fob. 15.11)00.

When a woman wins at cards there comes into her face an exceedingly •elf-satisfied expression. • ,.

- Some men mind their own business • go well that they fail to catch many a passing opportunity.

MMamMMaMranML Vontawnorroai ril® first n» ot Dr. Kline's Great Nerre Ho topi •r. Send for FKGK SJ.OO trial bottle and trettlMb £•. H H. Kuhb .Ltd., A Arch etnat, PbUadtlpUa,

Men who worry because they are compelled to work, worry the most when they have no work.

A widow understands the most ef­fective way of sympathizing with a Borrowing widower.

Mrs* Wlnslow'i Soothing Syrup, ablldrea teetblnc, (often* tbe ururoi, r*dueM ta.

- allays pain, cium wind coUo. iUoakotU*.

It's a good thing some people are not • good M they pretend to b*.

if \

Sco\irgje o/Danva.scus

A Story of

the East... By

SYLVANUS COBB, JR.

Copyrighted 1891 by Robert Bonner's Sons.

C H A P T E R V J . Tt was near noon, and the k'.nt; of

Damascus was in his chamber with About Casscrn. They were talking about the approaching marriage.

"In throe (lavs more," said Horam, "I shall claim her for my bride."

"In truth, sire, it is as you have said," replied the minister. He spoke not with the enthusiasm of apprecia­tion, but as one who would not dispute his king. "I trust, sire, your hopes may find their fruition. I pray that Ulin may hear to thee a son. and thus make bright and promising the even­ing of your life."

"Good Aboul, I trust in thy words. Ha! what now? Whom have we here?"

"Sire, "spoke a pn~<\ "the Israelite, Judah is without, and wou'd speak with thac."

"How!" cried the kins;. "Is if the Judah whom I sent from the Valley of Lyeanius?"

"The sumo, sire." "Then send him to me at once. By

my life. Aboul, he cannot have ac­complished his mission so soon. I dare not hope so."

"Let us hope for the best," suggest­ed the minister; and before further remark could be made Judah stood in the royal presence.

"Ha. Judah—do I see thee back so soon? Have you come to bring me word of failure?"

"Nay. sire," replied the Israelite, "I have come to bring the robber chief­tain to Damascus."

"Have you taken him?" "Yes, sire." "Alive?" "Yes. sire." ?• "And have him here?" "Ready to be brought before you at

any time." "He is bound?" "Yes, sire." "Then bring him at once. By the

host of Pluto. I would see the fellow. But—hold. He is guarded?"

"Yes, sire. Osmir and Selim are with him."

"Are they all?" "It needs no more. The prisoner Is

securely bound, and can offer no re­sistance."

"Then let him come." "Ye gods!" uttered Horam, turning

to his minister, after Judah had gone, "what manner of man shall we be­hold?"

"I cannot guess, sire." "A giant, I think—as ugly as a Cy-

lop. But he is bound, Aboul—he is bound."

In a little while the door opened, and Judah entered, followed by Osmir and Selim, who led a bound man between them.

"Sire," spoke the Israelite, "this is the prisoner."

"But where Is Julian?" demanded Horam.

"This is Julian." "This?" cried the monarch, taking

a step forward, and gazing Into the face of the bound man before him. "This?1 he repeated, in a lower tone, advancing another step, and gazing more earnestly upon the bold, open, youthful face. "This is not Julian."

"This is he who hath commanded the robber band," said Judah.

"Aye—and I am he whom you have called the Scourge of Damascus," spoke the prisoner, standing proudly erect, and gazing full into the face of the king. "I am Julian, the enemy of Horam, and the avenger of wrongs done years ago."

The monarch, as he gazed more in­tently upon those features, and as the tones of that voice fell upon his ear, seemed startled by the memory of some old dream. And Aboul Cassem was not entirely uniuterested. The old minister gazed as fixedly and as earn­estly upon the face of the young chief­tain as did his royal master; and he, too, seemed puzzled and perplexed.

"Who are you?" apked Horam. "I am Julian, the Scourge." "But what else?" "You should know what else, most

mighty king. I have tried to make myself felt by you."

"But," urged Horam, taking no no­tice of the robber's tone, "why have you sought to harm me? Who are you that can have cause for such enmity?"

I am one who knows the bitterness of deepest wrong," replied Julian. "Fa­therless and motherless came I from the feeble steps of childhood; and I know that Horam was the murderer of my parents."

"Ha!" cried the king, with a start. "Who were your parents?'

"I will not speak their names in your presence."

"Beware, robber! I may compel you to answer."

"If you have power to extract an­swers fipm dead men, you may force answer^ from me."

Jhe gods, thou art insolent." "Th|fo bind my tongue, as these

Blaveq|have bound my arms." "N^" said Horam, struggling with

his passion. "I have another plan. l*cret which you will not speak

to mrfyou shall never speik. You shall follow your parents with all possible speed.1-Judah!"

"I aj?a here, sire."* ' "Yo^know the deepest, daYkest dun­

geon, iRiere the most dr?nd«"1 prison­ers arelonflned?"

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ifs, sire. "Conduct this man thither. Plunsfe

him into the very bowels of the deep­est ravfi n. where the doors are of i>-o i, •and the bolts of triple steel, and s H> that he is kept safely there until the morrow. You will answer for him with your life."

'Give- more the king gazed into that youthful face, and then turned away to a window.

"Sire," spoke the minister, after the prisoner had been conducted away.

w h y d o y o u s p a r e t h a t m a n f o r e v e n another hour? Why do you not exe cute him at once''"

I'Ct.uise," replied Horam, starting up, "I have a curiosity to know who he is. There is some mvstery in thut KKO of his. It is now near the hour of the council, and I have not time to think. I must see him again. D.d vou not mark something peculiar in his look

es, sire; there is something in his lace which is familiar to me; or, at

j it.ist, it spoms so." I I'y my life. Aboul, it must be so • l^.d you mark that bold front; that [ "pen brow, that Jove-like sweep of I nose and chin? and did you mark the | deep lustrous eyes, and the gentle curi­

ng of that sunnj' hair?" 'Yes, sire."

"And can you not read its secret?" "Xo. Can your majesty?" "Not yet—not yet, Aboul; but I must have a strange curiosity; and it is a

curiosity which has been strangely and suddenly excited."

I

CHAPTER VII. At Hassem's House.

Ulin had lost none of her wondrous beauty; but she had become pale, and the healthy flash of the eye was gone. Late in the evening she sat in her chamber, with her brow resting upon her hand, and ever and anon a deep sigh escaped her.

"My dear, good mistress," spoke Al-bia, gliding to the side of the princess, and resting her hand affectionately upon her arm, "T cannot bear to see you suffer so. What is it?"

"It is nothing, Albia." Ulin spoke without raising her head, and her voice was low and sad.

"Don't tell me that," urged the at­tendant. She got down upon her knees, and gazed earnestly up into Ulin's face. x "Oh, my dear lady, you are misera­ble and unhappy. Why will you not pour out your sorrows to me? Perhaps I can help you bear them. You know I love you; you know that I will be faithful. Tell me all, and I will sufTer with you if I can; and I will help you if there is help to be had. As I live at this moment, so, if it should appear to me necessary, would I lay down my life for your welfare. Will you not trust me?"

"Ulin leaned her head forward upon Albia's shoulder, and burst into tears.

"Oh, Albia, you are my friend—you are my sister. I know you love me; and I cannot tell you liow grateful I am."

"They why will you not lift the veil from your sorrow, and allow me to feel still more for you?"

"I had almost resolved to tell you, Albia." .

"Then make the resolution sure, and admit me to your fullest confidence."

The princess dried her eyes, and finally lifted her head from her com­panion's shoulder.

"Dear Albia, I know not how to com­mence. I am a child—a poor, foolish child—as you will say when I have told you all. You will say that I de­serve to suffer, and thst punishment should be mine."

"Nay, my lady," responded the bond-maiden; "you must not commence in that way. Tell me first all the cause of your sorrow; and leave it for me to base my own judgment. Come—trust me, and let me give you all my sym­pathy."

A few moments the princess was si­lent,' and then she said, with a low tremor in her voice:

"Dear Albia, when I said that I would marry with the king I did not think what I was doing. That strange dream, so wonderfully repeated, led my father to broach the subject, and I did not refuse. When he talked of my being queen, and of my giving birth to a king to a king of Damascus, I thought it might be my duty to offer myself. I did not then know Horam.

now—I have learned new things. I dread the fate which I have courted. I fear and loathe the man whose wife 1 have promised to become. When I first promised to give myself to Horam I felt that I could perform the. duty without the sacrifice of any real vir­tue or comfort of life. But, oh, how changed it has all become. Not only does my whole nature shrink from the sacrifice, but it seems as though a fate worse than death were involved In the ordeal. Last night I dreamed that Ho­ram was my husband, and that he meant to kill me. He did not plan to drown me, ad he did poor Helena; but he declared, that I should be thrown alive Into a den of wild beasts. It makes you shudder, Albia." hl' ^ "

"Oh, how terrible!" ' ~ "And yet, my dear girl, I dreamed

that I felt a relief when I knew that death was coming, even though it was to come so dreadfully. Just think what a state of inlnd that must be. Oh, It

is horrible! Dear Albia, I know no) what to do."

"Have you told me all?" whispered the bondmalden, winding her arm about her mistress' neck, and kissing her upon the brow.

"Have I not told you enough?" re­turned Ulin, covering lior face with her hands.

' Not if there is more to tell, dear lndv. You have trusted me this far— trust me with all. You have told me that you dread the king; and I do not wonder at this. You cannot have for­gotten that T spoke against the union from the first. It seemed to me un­natural. But, lady, there is something more."

"Nothing more which I dare to tell, Albia. Nay—do not ask me. I have told you all that I can tell. And now 1 ask you—what can I do? The fatal hour is nigh at hand in the which I have promised to give myself to the king."

"There is one thing you can do, my mistress—one thing alone, which I can see."

"Speak. Albia." "You can flee." "Flee!" repeated Ulin, in a startled

whisper. "There is but one other course open

to you.' "And that " "Marriage with the king." "Oh. Albia. this is dreadful! That

same thought of flight has entered my mind before; but can I leave my fa­ther?"

"If you become the king's wife, you must leave him. Think of it, lady."

"But whither can I flee?" "I have thought of that.' said the

bondmaiden, "and I think I know where you could find safety. Some miles from Damascus, among the hills where the Pharphar winds its water in a mummunng channel, lives an old hermit, named Ben Hadad. His home is in a cave which the hand of nature has fashioned in the solid rock; and his life is given to deeds of charity and good will. I have seen him, and I know that he is good and kind."

"And how came .vou to know this old man?" asked the princess, with some surprise.

"I know him through an old woman named Ezabel, who has been often in tht city, and who was well acquainted with your mother. This Ezabel used to come often to our house, and once Ben Hadad came with her—a white-haired old man, whose just and tem­perate life is lengthening out far be­yond the span of years usually allotted to man. Your mother gave him money to he expended in charity; and he told her, if she ever could find use for his aid, it should be freely given. I know-that he will befriend you. If you wish to fiee, I will go with you, and to the last of my strength and my life I will help and sustain you. Think of it, my mistress."

"I will think of it, Albia, and on the morrow my mind shall he made up. You may retire now. It it late, and we both need rest."

(To be continued.)

Good Enough for Htm.

Two brothers recently visited the of­fices of a firm of American machine agents in London. One was at thd head of an important English manu­facturing firm, the second was an en­gineer who had lived In Pennsylvania for some years. The latter pointed out to his brother machine after ma­chine that he ought to have. "You know, Tom," he at last declared em­phatically, "if I were in your place I'd throw every bit of your old machinery on the scrap heap and have an up-to-date plant right through. You'd double your output and halve your expenses." "Tom" listened carefully and put his hand to his chin in reflective fashion. "Well, Dick," he said at length, "you may be right. I won't say that you're not. But why should I change? The old machines were good enough for fa­ther, and they were good enough for grandfather, so I am thinking they're good enough for me."

Centnrlo* or Imprisonment*

To be sentenced to imprisonment for the term of one's natural life is hard enough, but to be consigned to a dun­geon cell for a couple of thousands years is indeed harrowing. Yet foreign judges not infrequently impose sen­tences of several centuries without it being considered anything remarkable. Not long ago an Italian adventurer was convicted of 63 distinct forgeries. He was sentenced in each case, with the result that he will be free in the year 20S9. A couple of years ago a young man was arrested in Vienna, who, upon his own showing, should have been sentenced to 2,500 years' im­prisonment. A total of 400 charges was brought against him, and he was convicted and sentenced on all of them. But the judge was a merciful man and in passing sentence he threw ofT 1,000 years In consideration of the man's youth.

• Flower of England* The flower of England is the rose,

and this choice dates back to the Wars of the Roses, when that branch of the royal family known as the house of Lancaster chose a red rose for its badge, and the rival branch, the house of York, had a white rose. Previous to that date the badge of the English royal family, ths Plantagenets, was a sprig of broom, from which indeed they took their surname, as the found­er of the family—Fulke Martel, tha earl of Anjou, having expiated a crime by a pilgrimage to Palestine, and be­ing scourged there with broom-twlgi. ever afterward, 1

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mm

".ore'eyeVute} Thompson's Eye Water

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(Mention tills paper.)

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