eo

id ,

THE DAILY EXAMINER, CHARLOTIELOWN, JANUARY 10 i898.

= lt OIE SE Nevis evevevevededddevdddddd veveeevdee dre, Wile. = =: = RISE AND FALL = = = = = = =o OF THE MUSTACHE = : ty THE M 4 = = = : KRAKKEK = » «. s RY ROBERT J. BURDETTE. © = * ST ppapaneQaehoQP ASSP DAL RAARN ASSO OADM DAR B PARRA IAN nv other man f his siz That his : le snug, like a house with tale » family of thirty-seven, i ve st, W ) sets so lightly on the ; < vi, is jaunty but limited, . rk’s salary; that his it fit, and can not be but- ned with a stump machine. Tom ’¢ know all this; he has only a ral, vague impression that it may so. And he doesn’t know that his sis- ters know every line of it. For he has lived iny years longer and got in ever eo much more trouble, before he learns that one bright, goad, sensible girl—and

I believe they are all that—will see and noti in A glance, remember it more accurately, and talk mor3 about it, twenty men can in a week, know, for his crying feet will mot let him, how he gets from his room to the earthly paradise where Laura lives. Nor does know, after he gets there, that Laura sees him trying to rest

» more

than see

iom does not

he

one foot by setting it up on the heel, And she sees him sneak it back under his chair and tilt it up on the toe fora

change. She sees him ease the other font a little by tugging the heel of the boot at the leg of the chair. A hazardous, reck-

less, presumptuous experiment. Tom tries it so far one night, and slides his heel so far up the leg of his boot, that

his foot actually feels comfortable, and he thinks the angels must be rubbing it. He walks out of the parler sideways that night, trying to hide the cause of the sudden elongation of ome leg, and he hobbles ali the way home in the same disjointed condition. But Laura sees that too. She sees all tke little knobs and lumps on his foot, and sees him fidget on his foot, and sees him fidget and fuss, she sees the look of anguish flitting across his face cader the heart- less, deceitful, veneerine of smiles, and she makes the mental! remark that master ‘Tom would feel much happier and much more comfortable, and more like staying longer, if he had worn his father’s boots.

But on his way to the house, despite the distraction of his crying feet, how many pleasant, really beautiful romantic things ‘lom thinks up and recollects and compiles and composes to say to Laura, to impress her with his originality, and wisdom, and genius, and bright exuber ant fancy and genecal superiority over all the rest of Tom’s kind. Real earnest things, yon know, no hollow, conven- tional compliments. or nonsense, bat suck things, Tom ‘flatters himself, as none of the other fellows can or will say. He has them alll in beautiful erder when he gets at the foot of the hill. ‘The remark about the weather, to begin with; not the stereotyped old phrase, but a quaint, droll, humorous conceit that no one in the world but Tom could thiek of. Then, after the opening over- ture about the weather, something about music and Beethoven's sonata iu B fat and Hayden's symphonies, and of course something about Beethoven's grand old Fiftn *«7mphony, somebody's else mass, in hearen knows how many flat; and then something about art and a profound thought or two on science

and philosophy, and so on to poetry and |

from poetry to ‘‘tkusiness.’’

Bat alas, when Tom all these we'll ordered ideas display dent symptoms of breaking

evi- up; as he

reaches the gate |

crosses the yard he ‘is dismayed to know |

the convulsions of a panie, and when he touches the bel) knok, every, each, all and severai of the ideas, original and compiled, that he has had on any subjeea during the past ten years, forsake him and return no more that evening. When Laura opened the door be had intended to say something real splendid abunt the imprisoned sun- light of something, Beaming out a wel- come upon the what wou may cail 1t of the night or somethimg. Instead of which he sare. or rather gasps: *‘Oh, yes, te be sure; t be sure; hot’’ And then, eon- scious that ne has mot said anything particularly brilliant er original, or that most any of the other fellows could not say with a little pracfxee, he makes one more effert to redeem kimself before he steps inte the hall, and adds, ‘‘Oh, good morning, good morning.”’ Feeling that even thisis only a gartial success, he his seattered faculties for one united eflarr and inquires: ‘‘How is your mother?’ And then it etrikes him that he has about exhausted the subject, and he goes into the parlor, and sits down, and just as seon as he hae placed his re- proachful feee in the Jeast agonizing position, he proceeds to wholly, com- pletely and suceessfully forget everythinz le ever knew in his life. He

that they are in

collects

amazement and equally te Laura’s be- wilderment, conducting a conversation about the crops, and a new method of funding the national debt, subjects upon which he is abouts as well informed as the town clock. He rallies, and makes # successful effort to turn the conversa- tion into literary channels by asking her if she has read any of Conan Doyle’s e.ories. And in a burst of confidence he assures her that he would not be sur- prised if it should rain before morning. (And he hopes it will, amd that it may be a flood, and that he may get caught in it, without an ark nearer than Cape Horn). And so, at last, the first evening P’8Ses away, and after mature delibera- tion and many unsuccessful efforts he rises to go. But he does not go. He wants to; but he doesn’t know how. He says, good evening. Then he repeats it in a marginal reference. Then he puts it in a foot note. Then he adds the remark in an appendix, and shakes hands. By this time he gets as far as the parlor door, and catches hold of the knob and holds on to it as tightly as though some one on the other side were trying to pull it through the door and run away with it. And he stauds there a fidgetty statue of the door holder. He mentions, for not more than the twentieth time that even- tag that he is passionately fond of music

returns to , consciousness to find himself, to his own |

sea gee ak

cordially ever-since.

Dut Lo an't sing Did she go to the World’s ‘‘such a pity’’—he begins terror, lest she may consider

Fair? but stops in his condol-

Which is a Me;-he can. | old-fasnidnea furniture “No”? }

bud himself and When,

aura and toe furniture. almost

| without knowing how or why, they talk | about life and its realities instead of the

last concert the next lecture: when | they talk of their plans, and their day dreams and aspirations, and tft]

ence a reflection upon her financial standing. Wid he go? Oh, yes, yes;.he | says, absently he went. Or, that is to

He did not exactly

say, no, not etertly, stc‘4 at home, in

go to the Fair’ he

fact, ho had not been out of town this , snmmer. hen he looks at the tender little face; he looks at the brown eyes, sparkling with suppressed merriment;

he locks at the white hands, dimpled and soft, twin daughters of the snow; and,

the fairy picture grows more lovely as

he looks at it, until his heart outruns his fears: he must speak, he must say something impressive and ripe with meaning for how can he go away with this suspense in his breast? His hers trembles as does his hand; his quivering lips part, and—Laursa deftly hides a vagrom yawn behind her fan. Good

night, and Tom is gute

Vhere is a dejected droop to the mus- |

tache that night, when in the solitude of his own room ‘Tom releases his

from the despotic gloves, and tenderly soothes two of the reddest, puffiest feet that ever crept out of boots not half their own size, and swore in mute, but elo- quent anatomical profanity at the whole race of bootmakers. His heart is nearly as full of sorrow and bitterness as his It appears to him that he showed off to the worst possible advantage; he is dimly conscious that he acted very like a donkey, and he has the not entirely unnatural impression that she will never want to see him again. So he philosophi- cally and manfully makes up his mind never, never, never, to think of her again. Then he immediately proceeds, in the manliest and most natural way in the world, to think of nothing and no- body else under the sun for the next ten hours. How the tender little face does haunt him. He pitches himself inte bed with an aimless recklessness that tum- bles pillows, bolster, and sheets into one shapeless, wild chaotic mass, and he goes through the motions of going to sleep, like aman who would go to sleep by steam. He stands his pillow up on end, and pounds it into a wad, and he props his head wpon it as though it were the

boots.

guillotine block. He lays it down and smooths it out level, and pats all the wrinkles out of it, and there is more sleeplessness in it to the square inch

than there is in the hungriest mosquito that ever sampled a martyr’s blood. He gets wp and smokes like a patent steve, althengh not three hours ago he -teld Lanra that he de-tes-ted tobacco.

This is the only time Tom willtever ge through this, in exactly this way. It is She one rare golden experience, the one bright, rosy dream of his life. He may live to be as old as am army overcoat, and he may marry as inany ‘wives as Brigham Young, singly, or in a ‘cluster, fut this will come te lim but once. Let him enjoy all the delighted mise all the ecstatic wretchedness, all the hea- @enly torlornness of ¢t as best he can. #cnd he takes ood, selid edifying misery wut of it. How he daes torture himself and hate Smith, the empty-headed Aonkey, who can talk faster than Tom can think, and whose mustavheiis black .as Tom’s boots, and long that he can pull one end of it with both hands. How he does detest that idiot Brown, who plays and sings and goes up there every tiine Tom does, and: laws over e few old forgotten five-finger exercises and calls it music; who comes mp there,some night when ‘Tom thinks he has the erening and Laura all to himeelf, and brings up an old, tuneless. woiceless, «cracked guitar, and goes craseling around in the wet grass under the windows ani! makes night perectiy hideaus with what he calls a serenade. He sneaks French, too, tthe beast. Poor Wom; when Brown’s Jingual accomplishments. in the Language eof Charlemagne are -tonfined to—‘‘aw- aw-er ah—vooly voo?”’ and on state occa- sions to the additiomal grandeur of ‘‘avy woo mong shapo?’’ But poor Tom who once covered himself with confusien by

telling Laura that his favorite air in ‘*Robert le Diable’’ was the beautiful aria ‘‘Robert toy eme iam."’ considers

very prodigaf in iiagmistic attainments; another Cardinal Mezzo- fanti; and hates him for it accordingly. He hates Daubs, the artist, too, whe was my there one evening and made afm off- hand crayon sketch of ther in an album. ‘Lhe picture looked more like Dasths’ mether, and Jom kmew it, but Laura sail it was oh just delightfully, perfectly splendid, and ‘}om has hated Dawbs most lk» fact, ‘Tom hetes every .man who has the temerity to speak to her, or who she may treat wii th ladgjike courtesy. Until there oomes cne night when the boots of ¢he ingwisitien pattern sit more lightly an their suffer- ing victims, when Providence has be¢na on Tem’s side and has kept Smith and

Brown a

real men and women; when they talk

zbhout the heroes avd heraines of days long gone by, gray and dim in the ages | that are ever made young and new by the lives of noble men and noble women

| creotion’s

| and home life,

lived, and did, and never died in

grand old days, but lived and live on, as imperishable and faceless in their glory as the glittering stars that sang at dawn When the room seems voices hush; upon her a tinge of sadness that makes if more beautiful than ever: when the dream and picture of a home E love,

who

those

ss

when the flush of exrnestne face gives it jen,

and home

grows

| Over ti top of it

| this scene

| every moment more lovely, more entranc- |

‘ing to him until at I2st poor blundering,

| what he is going to say, speaks hands |

| | strangely silent when their j | | i |

Tom, speaks without knowing without preparatiea or rehearsal, speaks and his honest, Natural, manly heart touches his faltering lips with eloquence and tender ness and earnestness that all the rhetoric in the world never did and never will inspire, and—. That is all we know about it. Nobody knows what is said or how it is done. Nobody. Only the silent stars or the whispering leaves, or the cat, or maybe Laura’s younger brother, or the hired girl, who generally bulges in just as Tom reaches the climax. All the rest of us know abont it is, that Tom doesn’t come away so early that night,

and that when he reaches the door he

stupid

holds a pair of dimpled hands instead of the insensate door knob. He never clings to the door knob again; never. Unless ma, dear ma, has been so kind as to bring in her sewing and spend the even- ing with them. Tom doesn’t hate any- body, nor want to kill anybody in the wide, wide world, and he feels just as good as though he had just come out of @ six months’ revival; and is happy enough te borrow money cf his worst ememy.

But there is no rose without a thorn. Although, I suppose, on an inside com- jputation,there is, in this weary old world as much as, say «@ peck, or a peck anda haif possibly, of thorns without their attendant roses. Just the raw, bare thorns. In the highest heaven of his new ‘found bliss, em is suddenly recalled to earth and ite miseries by a question from Laura which falls like a plammet into the unrippled sea of the young man’s happiness, and fathoms its depths

in the shallowest place. ‘‘Has her own ‘lom’’—as distinguished from countless other Toms, nobody’s Toms, unclaimed

Toms, to af intents, and purposes swamp lands on the public matrimonial domain —‘‘Has her own Tom said anything te pa?’’ ‘*Ob, yes! pa;’’ Tom says, ‘‘To be sure; yes.”’ Grim, beavy brewed, austere pa. The ving embodiment of business. Wary, shrewd, the life and mainspring of the house of Tare and Tret. ‘‘M. Well, N’no,"’ Tem had not exactly, as yor might say, noured out his heart to pa Somehow or other he had « rose-colored idea that the thing was going to ge right along in this way forever. ‘Tom had an idea that the programme was al arranged, printed and distributed, rose- colored, gilt-edged, and perfumed. Be was going to sit and hold Laura’s hant, pa was te stay down at the office, amé ma was to make her visits to the parler as much dike angels, fer their rarity and brevity, 2s possible. Bat he sees, mor that the matter has heen referrei to, that it is a grim necessity. Laura doesn’t lite to seve such aw spasm of terror pass @rmer ‘Yom's face; and her earal lips quiver:a little as she hides her flushed face ant oft sight on Tom's shemlder, ‘and tells him hoe kind and tender pa ha; always been with Iter, uotil Ve o feels vositimaly jealous:of pa. She tells Rim he must mot dread gaing to see him, for pa will te oh sv giad te» know how ihappy, can mabe bis little girk, And asshetralks to him, the hard working, cld-fasbitr ed

hapoer the

tender-hearted old man, who loves his girl as though she were yet only a big

toy her heart grows teaderer, anit she earnestivy and eloquently ftihat i ‘Tom, a¢ first savagely jealous of hing, is |} persuaded to fall in lowe with the old |! gentleman—he calls bine-** Pa,’’ too, mow —himself

but br the feeling is x

speaks

Pl 3 following

man, Stmbby little pa; with a fringe of the most @ikstinate and wiry «gray hai standing a& wround his bald head; the wiriest, griatlaest mustache bristling under his*mose; attnft of tangled beard under the skarp. chin, and.s raspy under- growth of a week’s rnn onithe thin jaws; business, business, business, in every line

Brower and Daubs away, and has frighs- | of the hard, seamed face, and profit and

ened Ziom nearly to death by showim loss, barter and trade, dicker and bar-

him ne one in the Jittle parics with iw J gain, in every movement of the nervous NES Mee MEMES SE Me MM MESA SS MEME SE SY. SS Me VME NESE one AP UP UP AP BO AP AS AS AS AS PAS AP ADS US TE VEU GS UE BSUS D4 % aN “ar iS old Comfort KP

at ae Yu 2 6 Made Warm iS 2% 2 7S even if your house isa celd aS 3% one Zs ww

, >

“A

ZN

ot ee

Quebec Heater (REGISTERED)

will warm itup, by giving you 50 per cent. more heat with 33 per cent less coal or coke, than any other stove. No ciinkers. No coal gas. Neat.

sv

CARRIER LAINE & CO.,

Levis, Que.

R.B. Norton & Co., LAL, Char- lottetown, Sole Agent.

; fis il it i owed

Havas, ub; O14 DUSIDeSS,

the newspaper a little

ne puos aown way, and looks Tom announces the young man with s that peer through old-

| as

yaa] nerine at l ! ae

vectacles, that look rh y : had known these eyes inasy With them ever since

they wept over their A.B.C.’s or peeped into the tall stone jar Sunday afternoon to look for the doughnuts

Tom, who had felt all along theré could be no inspiration on_ his part in has come prepared. At least he had his. last true satement at bis tongue’s end when he entered the count: s2g-room, But now, it seems to him that -f he had been brought up in a circus, and cradled inside of a sawdust ring, and ail his life trained to twirl his hat, he couldn’t do it better, nor faster, nor be more ufterly incapable of doing any-

thing else, At last he swallows a lump in his throat as big as a ballot box, and faintly gasps, ‘‘Good morning.’’ Mr.

Tret hastens to recognize him. ‘‘Eh? oh Yes; Yes. J young Bostwick, fro Pope & Middleribs. Oh, yes. Well—?’’ “{ have come, sir,’ gasps Tom, think- ing all around the world from Cook’s explorations to ‘‘Captain Riley’s Narra- tive,’’ for the first line cf that speech that Tare & Tret have just scared out of him so completely that he doesn’t believe he ever knew a word of it. ‘“‘I have come—’’ and he thinks if his lips didn’t get so dry and hot, they make his teeth ache, that he could get along with it; ‘‘I have, sir—come, Mr. Tret; Mr. Tret, sir—I have come—I am come—’* ‘‘ Yes, ye-es,’’ says Mr. Tret, in the wildest be- wilderment, but in no very encouraging tones, thinking the young man probably wants to borrow money; ‘‘Ye-es; I see you’ve come. Well; that’s all right; glad to see you. Yes, you’ve ??? Tom's

see;

come? hat is now making about nine hundred and eighty revolutions per minute, and

apparently not running up to half its full capacity. ‘Sir; Mr. Tret,’’ he re- sumes, ‘‘I have come, sir; Mr. Tret—I

am here to—to sue—to sue, Mr. Tret-—I am here to sue—’’ eh?’’ the old man echoes sharply, with a_ belligerent rustle of the newspaper; *‘Sue Tare & ‘Tret, eh? Well, that’s right, young man; that’s right. Sue, and get damages. We'll give you all the law you want.’’ Tom’s head is so hot and his heart is so cold, that he thinks they must be about a thousand miles apart. ‘‘Sir,’’ he ex- Plains, ‘‘that isn’t it. It isn’t that. I only want to ask—I have long known— sir,’? he adds, as the opening lines of his speech comes to him like a messaze from heaven, ‘‘Sir, you have a flower, a tender lovely blossom; chaste as the snow that crowns the mountain’s brow; fresh as the breath of morn; leyelier than the rosy-fingered hours that fly before Au- rora’s car; pure as the lily kissed by dew. This precious blessom, watched by your paternal eyes, the object of your tender care and solicitude, l ask of you. I would wear it in my heart, and guard and cherish it—and tn the—’’ ‘‘Oh, yes, yes, yes,’’ the old man says soothingly, beginning to see that Tom is only drunk, “*Oh, yes; yes, I den’t Know much about them myself; my wife and the girls generally keep half the windows in the house littered up with them, winter and summer, every window so full of house plants the sun can’t shine in. Come up to the house, tkey’ll give you all you can carry away, give you a hat full of ‘em.’’ “*No, n@& no; you don’t under- stand,’’ says pecr Tom, and old Mr. Tret now observes that Tom _ is very drunk indeed. “‘It isn’t that, sir. Sir, that isn’t it. I-—I-TI want toe marry your danghter.’’ Phere i¢ is at last, as bluntly

**Suc,

afternoon this, ery faint. When he enters tke

ccounting-room of ‘Tare .& Tret, amd stands befere pa, oh, land of love, hew could Lawra ever talk so about such a’

as though Tom had wadded it into a gun and shot it atthe old man. Mr. Tret does not say anything for twenty seconds. ‘vom telis Lamra that evening that it

was two heurs and a half before her father opened dis head. Then he says, “Oh, yes, yes, @es; to be sure: to—be—

sure.’’ And then the long pause is dreadful. “‘¥es, yes. Well, I don’t know. i don’t know about that, young man. Said anyrhing to Jennie about it?’ ‘It isn’t Jenuvie,’’ Tom gasps, seeing a new Rubicen to eross; ‘‘it’s—'’ ‘‘Oh, Julie? Well, I den’t—’’ ‘‘No,sir,’* interjects the despairing Tam, “it isn’t Julia, it’s—’’ ‘*Sophie, eh? @h, well Sophie—’’ ‘‘Sir,”

says Tom, ‘sif .you please, sir, it isn’t Sophie, itts—” ‘‘Not Minnie, surely? Why, Minnie jis hardly—well, I don’t

know. Youmg folks get along faster ithan—"’ ‘‘Dear Mr. Tret,’’ breaks in the distracted lawer. ‘‘it’s Laura.”’

(To be Continued.) soning tility

MESSAGE TO UEN

Proving that True monestyand True Phil

anteephy still Kxists

q

| Sufficient reward for my trouble.

Ifany man whois weak, nervous and debilitated, or who is suffering from any ef the varioas troubles resulting from youthful folly, excesses or overwork, will take heart and write to me, I will send him confidentially aod free of charge the plan pursued ty wiaich & was completely restor- ed to perfect bLeaith aod manhood, after years of suffering from Nervous Debility, lors of Vizor and @egantic Weakness.

I have nothing to sell and therefore want nro money, but asI koow through wav own expericnee how to tympathize with such sofferers, I am giad to be able to assist any teliow-beings toa cure. 1 asa wel] aware of the prevalence of quic k- ery, for I myself was deceived and impcs- ed apon until I nearly lost faith in man- kind but I rejoice to ray thatl am now pertectiy weli and happy once more and am @esirous therefore to make this certain means of cure kvown toal!. Ifyou will write <0 me you can rely upon being cured and the proud satisfaction of having been of great service ‘o one in need will be Absol- ute secrecy assured. Send 5c silver to cover postage and address Mr. G. Strong, North Rockland, Mich. 135 p & w.

———————

Smelt Nets.

6 new—assorted sizes,

dec23—2aw2wks.

SAPARARARARRARARRARARARAR NOTICE:

WHAT CAN’T BE CURED MUST BE ENDURED

——

MUAAAHAAN AEA AAA

But Have You Tried

A WEE DRAPPIE O’ PATTISON’S P

Give un drinking poor spirite and try the best Scotland yields. For Medicinal Purposes adulterated whisky is dangerous. For sideboard purposes it isabominable. A customer who once tries “A Wee Drappie 0’ Pattieon’s ” is a customer always. lor sale by all leading wine and enirit merchants, and wholesale by

For Sale By All Licensed Vendors

PEPFAR SP PEE Eee FP ee

GEFSSE SFE FEES VEE EE EY |

KRAAAAR ¥

!

beh N anya tg Tag ay an eat

--1S98== tocktaking Sale.

Before stocktaking we offer the balance of our stock or men’s ulsters and overcoats, at clearance prices. If you want one, you will get a snap—- at the price you cin buy here for now,

A lot of boys and youths U!sters, at about half price.$5.57 for $2 95, and so on.

BOOTS, BOOTS, this way for Boots. Ifyou want your boots at lowest prices, come this way,

J.B. Macdonald&Co

For Greatest Bargains in Boots and Clothing Kent ie ein eae ten in A i i i

eae —— — — aa a $$$

200 Bicycles Wanted

To be stored (free of charge) for the winter, and cleaned ~ repaired, nickeled or enameled, thoroughly renewed, ready

for sprins. "EN AMELING

We use the highest grade Enamel (black or colors) that money can buy in New York, and dase it on in a manner that the most fastidiovs cannot criticize, and the cost is the same as others charge for ordinary paint, See sample at shop.

W P. DOULL, Kent Street

his List

oe ee eS

ver

ee

eis Crete roe batOe ob 64 ao 0s pds ieee SS EN, i 8 i ek ge a ote a sic ebcadia:

CAPS

Natzral Otter Caps. No 1 Mink Caps

No 1 Beaver Caps

No ] Persian Lamb Caps South Sea Seal Caps

Cloth and Knitted Caps

COLLARS

Persian Lamb Collar. Beaver Collar, Astrakan Collar, Nutria Coltar

We have also an attractive l‘ne of Neckwear and wooler Underwear Our all rool $8,00 Frieze Ulster,our own make,is a beauty We don’t se'l the aboue goods for less than they cost us, but you would b> surprized were )ou to know how near thay

D. A. BRUCE

No | ] ]

| come to it at

CARVELL BROS.