A ES ENS II
~~
A ———— so I~.
—_—
Bellefonte, Pa., January 18, 1907.
I WONDER.
1 wonder why such homely girls
Are often blessed with lovely curls,
I wonder why all second wives
In luxary live all their lives,
1 wonder why a kiss unsought
Tastes not so fetching as it ought.
I wonder why we never know
Ax much as we did years ago.
I wonder why the cook we love
From us is always on the move,
I wonder why the stork makes friends
With folks who cannot weet both ends.
I wonder why eggs always soar
Just when we peed them all the more.
I wonder why we are afraid
Of trouble we ourselves have made,
I wonder why some people last
Until their usefulness is past,
1 wonder why if others go
From There to There that we should know
Of any reason why we fear
That we'll not go from Here to Here,
~Delineator,
THE FEMALE BOSS OF DUVAL.
‘‘Speaking of bosses,” said Archie Parr,
rancher and politician of Daval county,
“Grandma Powell can lay it over anything
that ever aspired to political round-ups in
old Duval. She's the cleverest and per-
suadingest boss that ever run a brand or
busted the other fellow’s machine.
“‘She’s Sheriff Powell’s ancestor. Yon
know him? Well, he’s had the harness on
for three terms and there ain’t no sign of
wear or tear yet. You see Powell was rais-
ed somewhere up in the Cross Timber.
When the old man cashed in, the old lady
went to live with a married daughter and
Jo drifted out here with a few hundred and
went into the sheep busivess. Honorablest
sheep man [ ever seen. Too much of a gen-
telman to associate with mattons for long,
aud if they hadn’t quit him, sooner or
later, he'd bave quit them. They must
heve sensed they couldun’t live up to their
company, for the second year they all took
the epizoot or something and defuncted.
“Jo was the cleanest, cheerfulest fellow
that ever busted a brone. Wasn't a cow-
man that didn’t like him—they didn’t
seem to miod his business. Jo bad a way
of riding into your affections, and he gen-
erally kept his saddle. The fact is he was
just too darn natural big-hearted for his
own good. Seemed to do him good to do a
fellow a favor, and the other fellow usually
anteed with ekal reciprocation. Wasn't a
cow camp in the county where the latch-
string wasn’t dangling for him, and he’s
that darned social,as I was 1emarkiog, thas
he'd leave his sheep with his Mexican |
herder for days while he helped the boys
with their round-ups.
“‘And with all his soft ways he bad plen-
ty nerve. He'd joke as hard as the hardest,
and take just as good as he'd send. He
never wimpered or kicked or took advan-
tage. Everything was above board, and I
don’t believe he ever did a weas thing in
bis life. He was just out sud out Jo Pow-
ell, and everybody soon learned whas Jo
Powell stood for.
“Once some greasers came through and
rode off old Bud Hoffman’s best cut-out
pony and forgot to bring him back. Well,
Jo just threw a saddle on a brone, telling
the boys to keep an eye on bis herder and
not let him vamoose wiih the sheep and
he'd see if he conldu’c make the acquaint-
ance of them greasers. He was always si-
lent about the introductions, but in five
days be torned up fresh and smiling with
the pony. The boys’ lowed the iuternation-
al amenities must bave heen short and
warm. But, as I smd, Jo was modest on
thas point.
‘Well, things went mighty smooth till
them mustons demised. That seemed to
coflomix Jo. He didn’t say nothing but
we could see it was woking ou his vitals.
‘We learned afterwards that the money put
in them was the old lady's, and that ex-
plained ir.
“I'he bosses just fell over each other of-
fering: him jobs. [It seemed to pain him to
bave to refuse, but he’d bave to spread
himself pretty thin to cover all the ranches
in Daval, so he just thanked them with a
tear in his voice and settled down to work
at old Bud Hoffman's.
‘They were a pretty uuregenerate set out |
there and it wasn't a month till they had
him steered straight to the bad. He was
bucking faro and poker, filling up on red-
eye, and making love to the senoritas here
at San Diego with the bess of them. The
hoys say he was a marvel of a poker player.
Wearing the sawe grateful, thank-you
smile; winuving or losing. If be losg, he'd
congratulate the boys so heartily they'd
feel sorry for their luck, aud if be'd win,
he'd blow it all in making the boys feel
cheerful. Natarally, at this stage of the
game, the only capital be was aconmaula-
ting was friends. Aud it’s a capital some
people don’t always seem to value at par.
But Jo's was the kind that conld be cashed
in at face value on demand, as you'll sce
presently.
*‘But I reckon you're wondering where
the female takes a hand 2 Well, I'm com-
ing to that. About this there was an old
lady got off the train over at Corpus one
day and crawled into the San Diego stage.
Bill Hobbe, the driver, said afterwards that
she seemed to know what was on her mind
from the start. She didn’t fuss about, ask
foolish questions and wait helpless ‘round
for assistance like the common run of the
antiquated weaker sex. Not that it
wouldn’t have been welcome from Bill
Hobbs, for he's a gentleman. Or from Neil
Robertson and myself, who were going out
on the same stage, for we both pride our-
seives on being agreeable and fascinating
to the ladies. Why, Neil—hat I'll tell yon
about that some other time.
“Well, we hadn't more'n pulled out of
Corpus, when this old lady turns to me,
who was sitting alongside her, and asks if I
know Jo Powell out in Duval.
“Jo Powell !’ says I. ‘Well, I reckon I
do. Me and Jo's like brothers and a whiter
man never lived.’
** ‘Well, I don’t know,’ says the old lady,
hesitating, like she wan feeling ber way.
‘I'm his mother, and when he left home he
was considerable sunburned, and I've
heard living on the prairie wasn’t good for
the complexion, but if you mean thas he's
he best son a mother ever had, you speak
e.
‘* ‘That's exactly what I mean, ma'am,’
says I, shaking her hand and expressing
how glad I was to meet her,
‘* ‘Likely you’re the friends he's been
writing me about?’ she says softly.
*“ ‘Don’t know,’ says I, not knowing
| what had been writ and not wishing to take
eredit for nothing I was not entitled. ‘Jo's
got a whole herd of friends. Reckon he
could round-up as many as the next fel-
low.’
‘“ ‘I'm so glad of that,” says Mrs. Pow-
| ell, with a tind of easeful sigh, as if she'd
! let go something she was glad to get rid of.
| “They’il be so much help to him in the
! election. Jo's been writing how his friends
were standing by him, but Jo was always
| s0 confident and hopeful,’ ehe says, inno:
| cent. ‘You think, then, Jo stands a good
| chance for sheriff?’
‘For a moment I thought I'd run up
agaiost a proper bluff, and didn’t know
whether to throw up my band or raise.
You eee, Jo nor no one bad eversaid a word
about his rouning for sheriff. About the
time I tambled to the correct play, Bill
Hobbs burst out in his barrel kind of voice,
‘Jo Powell runving for sheriff ? Why—'
Then Neil gave bim a dig in the ribs and
cat off his wind. Bill's a gentleman and
just as free hearted as air, bot it takes na
forty-five Colt to get an idea into his
head
** ‘Look out where you're driving,’ saye
Neil, fombling with the reins and winking
at Bill like a lunatic. Bill stared like a
stifled steer, then he began to look riled,
for he prided himself on his driving. Bat
by this time the crisis had pessed, as the
doctors say when the patient begins to get
well in spite of them.
** ‘Stand a chance for sheriff?’ says I. *No
chance at all—dead certainty.’
** ‘Jo Powell running for sheriff 2’ he
broke ont again in the same barrel voice.
He didn’t have any other. ‘Why—' Neil
was just getting ready to choke him—'I
ehould say he was. He says to me only this
morning, says he, “Bill, I'm running like
lightning.”’ Bill was a good liar in a good
cause, but he wasn’t always pat in bis fig-
ures of speech.
““You juss ought to have seen that old
lady’s face. It fairly flashed and crinkled.
I guess there's not a spot on this half of
the globe where the sun gets in its licks to
better advantage than on that stretch of
prairie between Corpusand San Diego, bat
I'm a liar if it didn’t seem brighter when
that old lady smiled.
‘* ‘How's Jo's sheep?’ she asks, spring-
ing a fresh hand on us. Well, that liked to
bave bogged me. Them sheep had been
dead over a year, and Bill would have sure
stampeded the game if it badn’t been he
didn't know anything about them.
‘* ‘Jo been writing lately about sheep ?’
I asks, playing for another move before
showing my hand.
‘* ‘Last time he wrote he said the sheep
were doing fine, but he was thinking of
| selling out and going into the cattle busi-
’
* ‘Well, he went,’ I says breathing easy
again; ‘and he’s prospering—natural horn
cowman.’
*‘Bill again warmed up to the game.
‘Bud Hoffman was saying just the other
day,’ says Bill, Jo Powell is the best cow-
uncher’’ '—here Neil’s heel ground into
ill’s bunioned toe. Bill hesitated, floun-
dered, then finished according to Hoyle—
‘“‘that ever quit the sheep business,””’
‘The old lady locked happy. She then
| tackled the scenery. Gushed about the cac-
| tus-dotted plain, the big sky, salubrious
{ climate—it was ninety in the shade—and
| fell to telling about Jo. How religious and
i reliable be was. How he had never drank
or gambled or told a lie. All of which we
heartily corroborated, and I reckoned we
never lied cbeerfuller or more to the point
in our lives,
**The farth and love she bad for that boy
was touching, and Bill Hobbs, who has a
soit spot in his heart same as in his head,
gulped a time or two, and slashed into the
hoses anmerciful to keep him from hlub-
bering when she got to telling about when
Jo was a haby—how good he was and about
his brown eyes and how his hair curled and
how he'd lie all day on his back and play
with his toes and goo-goo and never whim-
per unless a pin or a colicky pain struck
his anatomy.
*‘I seen the cards would bave to be stack-
ed on the old lady or all the strain we'd
put on our imaginations would he knocked
into a cocked hat when we reached San
Diego. So when we started down Mesquite
Divide, I says, ‘Hold up, Bill, that hreech-
ing is getting all flabbergasted,’ and Neil
and me juwped ous. Under cover of the
horses we held a consultation. We resolved
then and there to take that derelict of Jo
Powell's father under oor arms and keep
any slanderous reports reflecting on her off-
spring from reaching ber.
*“*What did yoo say was the matter with
the baruess?’ she asked as we crawled back
into the stage.
‘Ob, that’s justa word we use when
things get mixed up,’ I says, and she sank
! back with a soft little ‘Oh !'
| "As we pulled into town and swung
| across the plaza, I thought sure the jig was
(up. Jo sighted us from Penn's Dive and
! began waiving bis bands aud yelling. We
| could see at a glance he was tanked up, and
| there was no tellivg what would have hap-
pened if Neil hadn’s tumbled out and cor-
ral'ed him, while I directed his mother's
attention to the court house. I pointed out
the windows of the sheriff's office, and los-
ing my head, I says, ‘There's where your
son will he elevated from his ranch when
the returps are all in.’
“Why, Jo didn’t write me that be own-
el a ranch,’ says the widow, surprised.
‘Well, no, he ain’ bought one juss vet’
I says, ‘bat it’s only a question of time.
which is the same thing with Jo. At pres-
ent he’s holding with Bud Hoffman. He's
out there now, and I'm going to fetch him
right in. He'll be monster proud to see
yeu ‘Then 1 put her off at ‘The Maverick.’
hen I bad seen her safe and comfortable
in her room, I told old Dawson who she
was and made him swear he’d shoot the
first galoot that contradicted a word she
said about her descendant.
“When I found Neil he'd already run
Jo in and bad about fixed him. But he was
still holding ont against the uncertainty of
the thing. Said be didn’t want to boost up
his mother’s hopes and play on her super-
stition for three or four months and then
disappoint her. Said be was a glibbering
idiot ever to have deceived her. You see,
when he wrote her he was running for
sheriff, he had no other idea than to stave
off a threatened visit. Told her he was up
to his eyes in the canvass and she bad bet.
ter wait until winter when he'd have time
to make things pleasant for her. But final-
ly he agreed if we'd do our levelest for him,
he'd consent to a innocent, acciden-
tal and anintentional candidate—them’s
his words—and go in to win.
“Then we put him to bed. The next
morning we groomed him up till he looked
as fresh as a pink and took him down to
see ie old lady. We didn't stay for the
reunion,
“‘Well, that woman was a wonder. Nat-
ural born politicians. I seen she was a
winner from the minute she took the bit
in her mouth. There wasn’t nothing man-
nish about her, either, nor yes too effemi-
nate. She had kind of a soft, gentle way
that went straight to the spot. She didn’t
bore you or get on your nerves. She know-
ed just what to say and when to say it and
when she'd said enough. When her firm
little hand would flutter in yours and she'd
look into your eyes in that trustfal way she
bad, you'd feel just like yon wanted to
purr, and you knowed you were voing to
do just what she said. Yes, she had win-
Biug ways—tock them after Jo. Aud her
faith in that boy was ketching.
‘““Hadn’s been here a week before she
knew everybody in town and was sitting
up with the sick women and nursing the
Mexican kids, and telling them all about
Jo. Jo was the note she was keyed to.
*‘She "tended all she speakings and estab-
lished a headquarters at the big camp-
meeting on the Neuoces. It was amusing
the way she could handle her polities and
religion most in the same breath and never
seemed to get them mixed. She'd tackle a
big cow-boy bristling with six shooters and
have him roped hefore he'd know what had
struck him,
‘““Are you religions?’ she'd ask in her
winning way, then in a twinkle she'd
trump with Jo. The fellows followed her
around like a berd trailing after a bay-
wagon. She never failed to get salt on their
tails, and if she didn’t convert shem to re-
ligion, she sure made 'em believe in Jo.
‘‘Never was but one other fellow that
came as near making me feel religions. A
preacher they call Bishop Johnston, that
makes San Diego occasionally, and prays
out of a book about not doing what
we ought and doing what we ought not.
He always makes we beliene he’s straight
and feel like I wish I was. Hs’s a Jo Fowell
kind of a preacher, and, if he knowed it,
could rope me as easy as a locoed steer.
“‘Bat I've jumped the trail. Well, you
see, Hopkios took it as a big joke—any-
body beating him for sheriff. 'Specially Jo,
who wasn't more’n of age and just a raw
cow-puncher. The antics of the vid woman®
struck him as awful funny. Bat she hadn't
been on the range loug before he discovered
she wasn’t riding no slouch of a brone.
Then he got frightened and wanted to com-
promise. Offered to make Jo his first dep-
uty if he'd pull ont of the race.
smiled the kind of a smile his moth r wore,
and said he'd make Hopkins the same
proposition. Well, Hopkins kicked and
swore. Referred to Powell in a very sacri-
ligious and reflectnig way.” But before
election he knocked under. Jodidn'e hold
his language against him, and he’s been
deputy ever since.
“The old woman had a wonderful brac-
ing effect on Jo. About the second week
after her arrival he ronnded up one day and
says, ‘Boys, I don’t want to interfere with
none of your habits, but after this you can
cut me out. Can’t herd with you any
more. Mother ain't never knowing told a
lie in her life, and I ain’t going, to stand
for her spreading defamatory reports con-
cerning my character over the county.’
And from that day to this he ain’t bucked
faro, tapped his blasphemy or bottled up
on pizen. Aud the boys ain't beld it
against him.
‘I heard that Bishop Johnston I was
telling von about say something about a
moral force in one of his Sunday oratories.
I didn’t exactly savey at the time, but
since Powell’s parent spread her wings over
Daval I bave av idea what he meant. She's
a moral force.
“Yonder she comes now. That basket is
filled with things for Jo's baby. You see,
he's been married more'n a year. That's
the reason we call ber grandma. He mar-
ried one of them high-steppers that took
her cultare at a swell college in the east.
She plays grand opera and sings the clas:
sigs just as easy as whistling ‘Yankee Doo-
e.
‘‘Exonse me,’ he broke off; ‘I want to
speak to Grandma about the progression of
the baby’s new tooth.”’—By Gay A. Jam-
ison, in Watson's Magazine.
The First Candlestick.
Perhaps not many little people know
that the first candlestiok known to our an-
cestors was a boy—a real, live boy, too.
He used generally to sit in the corner of
kitchen or dining hall holding in his hands
a piece of fir candle, and from time to
time casting and trimming is to make it,
burn more brightly.
The fir candle, as you have probably
guessed, was a length of wood cut off a
branch of a fir tree, this kind of wood he-
ing the best for burning, bechuse of the
resin it contains. All boys and girls know
ahout that, especially those who have had
the fan of making bonfires out of fir Christ.
mas trees when they have served their pur-
pose. How the branches do crackle and
spatter, to he sure !
These fir candles are still used in some
parts of Scotland, and though a regular
candlestick is generally used nowadays it
is still called a ‘‘puir mon'’—meaning a
‘‘poor man.” It gets this name from the
fact that in the old days, when a beggar
asked for a night's lodging, he was ex-
pected to hold the candle. At other times
the “herd laddie.”” or shepherd boy, usual-
ly performed this duty, when his work on
the hills was done.
Bacteria tn Milk Bottles.
The host of bacteria that may lurk in a
supposedly clean miik bottle has heen the
subject of investigation by the Wisconsin
Experiment Station. Bottles which had
been steamed for thirty seconds were found
to contain relatively few bacteria, possibly
15,000 to a bottle. However, when the
steam was allowggl to condense and the wa-
ter so produced to remain in the bottle at
room temperatures for possibly 24 hours,
the number of bacteria multiplied enor-
mounely and varied from 2,000,000 to say
4,000,000.
In a series of steamed bottles exposed to
the air for 24 hours, but containing no con-
densed water, the number of bacteria aver-
aged 300,000 per bottle, while in a similar
series which had undergone the same treat-
ment, in all respects they were cov-
ered with a clean linen oloth ave
about the same as freshly-steamed bottles,
all of which shows the very great import-
ance of keeping milk bottles, either empty
or full, very carefully covered.
Ita man wants to raise his house, he
can pu jacks under and slowly lift it in
ition. He can raise it much quicker
y exploding a cha of dynamite under
the house, but it will ruin the house. There
are two methods of treatment for the
bowels, the-slow, sure method, by which
a small pill and a carefully graduated dose
remove obstructions. That's the method
of Dr Pierce’ Plesant Pellets. There are
other pills that act like ,dynamite. But
they rain the system in doing it. Dr.
Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets represent the best
of modern skill and science applied to the
producttion of a perfect pill. They help
the system, and they do not beget the
pill habit.
——When yon have them they are opin-
ions; when other people have them they
Jo just | boy
are delusions,
“It Don't Hurt Much."
What, ho ! little fellow upon my knee,
Telling your story of trouble to me—
A finger swollen, a cat and a bruise,
You wonder what mother will say to your shoes
A brave, bright purpose to hold the tears
*Mid all the pain and the doubt and fears;
Though lips may quiver and sobs may rise,
No telltale drops in those brave, bright eyes,
As, tender with valor of childhood's touch,
He whimpers: “It don't hurt very much.”
There, little lad, with the wounds of fray,
Searred and stained in the light-heart play,
A kiss will heal—with a kind word blent—
Far better than all of the liniment,
I used to come for a bandage, too,
When I built castles of life like you ;
I used to fall and I used to know
The stinging pain of the brui-e and blow.
————————————.
Butchery of the Moose.
I file a protest against the extermination
of the noblest animal of North America—
the moose. I know of no greater mediam
to carry the protest (0 those to whom it
should interest than the Forest and Stream.
It is with indignation aud sorrow that [
read only recently in one of your issues a
detailed desoriptton of a moose and deer
hunt, entitled *'Big Game Hunting in New
Bruvswick," in which the writer says, *
* 1 * ‘““The bull (moose) stood in the
water feeding on lily pads, when low shot
him through the heart, ete. * * #* We
skinned out the head and neck and took it
to camp.’
Of oue of the two deer killed the same
day by these hunters he says, patting the
onus on Row again :
‘‘Row killed this (the second) one by
kuocking ous ove of his eyes.” 1 extract
from the same article the following descrip-
tion of the killing of the second bull moose
by this same party on the same trip, for
the reason, that while well written, it is
very much like the usnal experiences that
I have read in the sporting papers and
magazives of moose hunting since I was a
**To call a bull moose away from a cow
in the ratting season, requires the highest
skill of the moose hunter.
‘When we discovered the bull at the
head of the lake, heading toward the call-
ing cow, Bersing put bis horn to his lips
and gave one call ; the bull stopped in his
tracks, turned round and looked in
our direction ; another call, accompanied
by the snapping of a dead twig, turned the
bull round and headed him toward us ; bat
about every thirty seconds we could hear
him roar as he came toward us ; at a dis-
tance of about 150 yards he appeared in
wight, stopped and looked in our direction.
Standiog as he did on the shore of the lake,
in the early morning sunlight, with bis
bead and antlers high in the air, he pre-
cented a magnificent sight. As the dis-
tance was a long ove, and the sun shining
in my face, I koew it required careful
shooting lest the moose should escape in
the woods, which were but a few feet dis-
tant. I raieed my rifle and fired, taking
careful aim at his breast ; when the gun
cracked, I saw the blood gush out of his
nostrils, and the only move he made was
to tarn around and give me a better oppor-
tunity. I shot him four times in the neck
and breast, when be fell in bis tracks. We
photographed him where he lay, and found
that he had a spread of antleis 48 inches
and 18 points, the finest head that I have
secured.
“Our hunting was over ; we bad killed
about all the law permitted us to kill of
big game, and we were satisfied.”
In another article in one of the Novem.
her magazines, the writer of a descriptive
moose hunting experience says :
“The guide informed us that the season !
was rather late for ‘calling’ the moose and |
that we must watch the lakes and moose |
bogans at night. * * * We were not
favorably impressed with this form of hunt-
ing, but decided our guides knew best.”
* # % UThese animals are exceedingly
wary, the sense of smell very acute, and
they are approached with the greatest dif-
ficulty.” * % % The following night
Mr. — and Henry were rewarded by
three moose coming to the lake about 2 a.
m? % * #% uDid it pay to he a huni-
er, and was this really sport? Silently
awaiting the approach of a poor dumb
beast that I might deprive it of a life, as
sweet to it perhaps, as mine to myself.”
For nearly thirty years I have spent a
part of each year in the woods, but up to
three years ago I never saw a moose either
tame or wild. I was edified by graphic
stories that I bad read from time to time.
These stories sounded to we like tales of
prowess of mighty hunters. I longed for a
moose hunt. My deer, antelope, elk and
buffalo experiences seemed dwarfed in com-
parison. Wild goat and big horn sheep
seemed mild. I strove for that I had not.
The last three years I havespent in the p
“moose country,’’ and like the writer above
am ‘‘satisfied.”’ Satisfied of one matter
particularly, that all I had ever read of the
eport of hunting the moose was simply in
the writer's imagivation. The ‘‘moose
country’’ is far away! bard to reach! Ex-
pensive, and the journey takes more time
than the average buisness man can allow.
Those who go, are anxious to bring back
an evidence of their veracity. A big
moose bead with enormous antlers is the
evidence. To those who know little of the
habits of this animal, the enormity of size
of the head and antlers fits well with a
story of prowess, including as it does some-
thing like the above interesting desorip-
tion.
I know I will surprise some of my read-
ers who know no more of the habits of the
moose now, than I did three vears ago, and
I will not surprise those who have hunted
the moose by making the statement that
there is little or no sport in it!
The moose are great magnificent animals
with not the same degree of ‘‘ferocions-
ness’’ as is to be found in a little redjball
on a Connecticut pasture. Hunting west-
ern plains cattle on horseback would be
sport in comparison. After my three
years’ experience in the “moose country”
I rh:
assert:
I can kill as many bull moose with an
ax or revolver as ‘‘Row’’ can with his rifle!
It is about as much of a trick to “call”?
a moose in the rutting season as to call
howe the cows in the evening! They are
eo far from being ‘‘ferccious’’ and ‘‘wary’’
and ‘‘a with the greatest diffienl-
ty’’ that I bave ridden on the back of a
wild bull moose, only recently, in a lake at
least 500 miles north of the line! That is
far enough in the ‘‘moose country’ to pre-
sume he was not tame or domesticated.
I have passed within fifty feet of a cow
moose “feeding on lily pads,”’ when she
actually did not notice me! I have seen
from twenty to forty wild moose on each
of my trips! I well-known licensed
guides, who admitted it was a shame to
kill the barmless creatures! They never
knew of a “bull moose charging on his
prey.”’ They do not “‘roar’’ when being
called, but come toward the call with an
undetected quietude which is all the more
el rkable because of their size and clum-
giness,
Moose feed in the rivers, ponds and Jakes
from early spring until the ice gets so
strong it cannot be broken by their power-
ful hools. The Canadian opea season for
moose is before the ice closes the waters,
My guides told me thas the hunters in the
region I visited killed their mocse in the
water while feeding on the submerged lily
roots and water grasses. A moose in feed.
ing often dives to the bottom, sometimes
in ten feet of water. In any event his
head is submerged for from 30 to 60 see:
onds. Any canoist can approach them so
that they can be touched with a paddle.
This is not only in “fiy time,” but during
| the month of October. Why a rifle? The
little red bull on the Connecticut pasture
would bave a better chance of gesting
| away.
I saw many evidences of *‘skinning out
the head and neck.” The evidences were
the stranded carcasses of some enormons
bull moose putrefying the clean water and
air whose ‘‘head and peck’ lad heen
“skinned out.” I found heads abandoned
| beside the carcass of a bigger animal, that
presumably had a bigger head. I know
the name of an alleged moose hunter, a
banker of Cleveland, who abandoved sev-
eral heads, one after another, because the
sabsequent ones were larger than their
predecessors. He and his party kept their
guides on the water ways of the region I
visited, moving steadily for two weeks,
making a new camp every night, picking
ous the moose he wanted.
He killed them all by sneaking npon
them while feeding in the water. But his
greediness came near costing him his life as
well as that of his party and guides. The
ice snddenly formed one night, and the
party being over one hundred miles from a
base of supplies, had to abandon heads, ca-
noes and equipage and only reached ocivili-
zation in a starving condition. .
This region T visited, shipped out last
fall 135 heads of bull moose. If my guides
were telling the truth, and I bad no reason
to doubt them, over 500 bull moose must
bave been killed and all but 25 per cent,
abandoned. They asked me not to pub-
lish the evidences of what I had heard and
seen, as the Canadian government might
stop the killing of moose everywhere as
they had done in the Algonquin Park dis-
trict. And in further argument one of my
guides said : *‘It would mean a bardsbip
tous. Every American coming into this
district on a moose hunt leaves with us
from one to two hundred dollars.”
If the present rate of killing is allowed
to continue the moose will be nearly anni.
hilated or the remnant driven northward
beyond the confines of Hudson Bay.
The Canadian government owes it to the
rest of the world to preserve this animal
from extinction. The meat is to be eaten
only in extremities. It is coarse, dry aud
unnatritions. Even the Indians will not
eat it if they can get anything else. Nearly
all the moose thas inhabited oar northern
States have been killed off. A part of Can-
ada will always be a practically unbroken
wilderness, and a home for ages for this an-
imal if any protection is thrown around it.
There is more sport and more pleasure pho-
tographing one of these magnificent crea-
tures, who standing on the shore of some
beautiful nameless Canadian stream, throws
his massive antlered head high in the air,
and gazes at you in big-eyed curiosity, and
when that seems eatisfied either resumes
| his feeding or ambles slo=ly ont of the
water into the recesses of the forest,
The killing of deer, in the water, is pro-
hibited in nearly every State in which they
are found.
Canada must stop the moose hutchery.
James Dany.
Imitation Precious Stones.
Cousnl Albert Halstead, of Birmingham,
reports as follows in regard to successful
methods of imitating certain precious
stones :
Birmingham is the centre of jewelry
manufacture in the United Kingdom.
Here are trained jewelers of the most skill-
ful kind. Jewelry workmen have emigrated
from Birmingham to the United States in
such large numbers that a few years ago in
one of the largess silverware manufactories
in America there were employed G00 men
who had learned their trade in the Birming-
ham district. Not a little jewelry was
formerly exported from this district to the
United States, but the development of the
art in all classes of jewelry in America bas
materially reduced Birmingham's exports.
Still the trade here is reported to be better
than for some time, although manufactur.
ers complain that things are not as they
were. The keen competition of German
cheap and imitation jewelry has so serious-
ly interfered with Birmingham manufac.
turers that they now make comparatively
little imitation jewelry. Much 9-.carat
gold jewelry is still made here, hut the
finer type of jewelry is Birmingham's sta-
1
e.
The Birmingham Daily Mail shows how
adept fakirs have become in recent years,
now that the prices of genuine precious
stones of the highest quality have greatly
increased. The diamond seems to be the
only stone that resists successful imitation.
The ruby, sapphire, emerald, and pearl are
skillfully imitated. Even experts find it
bard to detect the fraudulent gems. De.
fective white pearls can be converted into
brown or even black ones. A converted
hlack pearl has been so well colored that it
sold at a fabulous price,
Imitation pearisare plentiful and look
€o like the real thing that they deceive ex-
perts. They are made by means of a trans.
parent glass shell, a little glue, and some
easence of the Orient, a silvery, pearly sub-
stance, composed of fine scales rubbed from
a small fish called the ‘‘bleak” or the
‘‘ablete,’’ 17,000 of which require rubbing
to get a pound. Even turqnoises are not
above suspicion.
Value of Street Trees,
It is quite a difficult matter to determine
the value of shade trees. There bave been,
however, many court decisions rendered on
this subject. The amount of damages of
course would depend largely upon the size
of the tree, their kind and place, and also
greatly upon the appreciation of the jury
of such matters.
It is customary in Massachusetts, where
electric lines have to take trees along their
right-of-way, for them to pay $10 to $15
each for large trees that they remove. Bas
where the trees are especially valuable they
have from $200 to $300 for a single
tree. In the case of emall trees I presume it
would be fair to conus the value of the tree
aud the labor of planting, to which should
be added $1 or $2 for each year’s growth.
A recent award of damages for this kind
of injury was had at Kansas City, Misson-
ri, where Mrs. Ella S. Betz was given a
judgment of $200 against the Kansas City
Telephone Co., whose employes had ent the
top out of one of her shade trees. In this
case the tree was a fine poplar about six
inches in diameter. It had interfered with
the stinging of the telephone wires and
was cat without permession.
at —
How Bees Make Honey.
A great many people think that bees get
honey from flowers, says the Rev. Theo-
dore Wood, in The London Tribune, but
that is quite a mistake, for there is no hon-
ey in flowers. It is true that many flowers
have sweet juices. But sweet jaices are
not honey; and before they can be turned
jote lioney they have to be swallowed by a
e
When a bee goes ont on a honey-maki
expedition it depends a great rs n its
tongue, which is very long and s ender,
and is covered all over with stiff little
hairs, =o that it looks just like a tiny brush,
With this the bee “weeps out the nectar
from the blossoms into its mouth, and goes
on swallowing it, mouthful after mouthful,
ontil it can swallow no more. Bat the
nectar does not pass into its digestive or-
gans and serve as food. Itonly passes into
a little pouch, just inside the hinder part
of the body, which we call the “honey
bag.” When this bag is quite full the bee
flies off to its hive, and by the time that it
arrives there the contents of the bag have
been turned into honey!
How this ie done. I am sorry to say, I
cannot tell you; for nobody bas ever been
able to find out. If we examine the boney
bag through the microscope we can find
nothing to account for the change. It
seews to be just a bag of tough skin, and
nothing more. Yet, in two or three min-
utes alter the nectar bas been swallowed
that wonderful change takes place. And
if a bee is fed with sogar and water instead
of nectar, is will turn the sugar and water
into honey in just the same strange way.
When the bee gets back to the hive with
its load it goes straight off to a honeycomb,
pokes its head into one of the cells and
pours out the honey through its month un-
til its honey bag is empty. Then it flies off
again to obtain more nectar and make a
further supply. And go it lahors busily
on from the first thing in the morning til
the last thing at night, never being away
from the hive for more than a few minutes
at a time, and always bringing back a fresh
supply of honey in its wonderful little bag.
Now, perhaps you wonder how it is that
the honey does not run out of the cells as
soon as the bees have filled them. For
these cells do not stand upright, but lie on
their sides ; and if we were tolay an open
barrel of treacle on its side that barrel
would very soon be nearly empty. As soon
as the honey is poured into the cell by the
bees, however, a kind of thick cream rises
to the surface and covers it. And this
cream holds the honey so firmly in posi-
tion that not even the tiniest drop ever
nozes out.
But when bees want to keep honey for
owe little time—when they are storing it
up for use daring the winter, for instance
—they are not satisfied with this creamy
crust, and are evidently afraid that the con-
tents of the cell may dry up. So they care-
fully cover it with a little waxen lid,
which makes the shell perfectly airtight.
Next time that you have honey-comb for
breakfast, if you examine it carefully you
will find that neatly all the cells are closed
in this curious way.
Now, why do you think that the bees
take the trouble to make 0 many small
cells in which to store away their honey ?
Why do they not make two or three really
big cells and keep it all in those?
Weill, the reason is that they know per-
fectly well thas if honey is kept in a large
vessel it very soon becomes thick, because
the sugar in it forme into crystals ; and in
that case they cannot feed upon it. But
as long as it is keps in the small cells of
the honeycomb it remains quite fresh and
liquid, so that all through the winter they
are able to use it as food.
President Dinz.
Among the rulers of the woild today
tere is no hore sturdy, Slereniog
picturesque figure than Ponfirio
President of the Mexican Republic, rays
the Metropolitan Magazine.
Hero of more than fifty battles, fought at
the head of bis men, leader of desperate
charges i defender of forlorn hopes, six
times held a prisoner and each time escap-
ing by the parrowest hazard, his career
reads like a tale of an ancient crusader.
He was born in the city of Oaxaca in the
south of Mexico on September 15th, 1830,
and inberited from his mother a strain of
aboriginal blood, ber grandmother having
been a Mixteca Indian.
His parents wished to educate him for
the church. After finishing with a primary
school at 7, he served as errand boy ina
store until he was 8 years old, and from
that time until he was 14 he studied in the
seminary. From 14 to 17 he was obliged
to support himeel! by tutoring, and at that
age he volunteered for the war with the
United States, but was not sent to the
front. The young churchman then decided
tobe a lawyer, and after a four years’
conrse he entered the law office of Juarez.
Soon after he served in the revolution
against Santa Auna, at the close of which
he became Mayor of Ixtlan and establish-
ed a military force there with which he
overthrew Garcia, who bad iszued a pronun-
ciamento in Oaxaca.
Later he became captain in the National
Guard and crushed the rebellion of Jamil-
tepee. In the war of the reform Juarez
gave the young officer control of the Die-
trict of Tebuaotepec, where he not only
held hiz own in the field, but commenced
to put in practice his ideas of pablic edu-
cation and good government. Then fol-
lowed a number of campaigns preceding
the invasion by France, England and Spain
in 1862, when Juarez sent him to the front
to hold back the invaders while be should
gather forces in the interior, and on May
5th, 1862, he won the splendid battle of
the Cinco de Mayo against the trained
European soldiers of Lorencez. After an
heroic defense at Puebla, he was obliged
to capitulate to the superior forces of the
French, but refused to take parole with the
other officers and soon escaped from prison.
At this juncture President Juarez offer-
ed to make him Secretary of war, but Diaz
declined the honor on the ground that he
was too young a man for such a promotion,
but later he was forced to yield to Juarez’s
solicitations aod became commander-in-
chief of the army and general of division.
Again the combined forces of England,
France and Spain were concentrated upon
him, and Bazaine took ihe field against
him in person. Once more Diaz was obliged
to surrender to greatly superior forces.
in he escaped his jailers by scaling the
peau wall, and got away with a reward
of $10,000 on his head.
For two years more he carried on a guer-
rilla warfare with the invaders in the north-
ern part of Mexico, during which be bad
many bairbreadth escapes. Then he ap-
peared in the south again and recaptured
his native city of Oaxaca. Gathering forces
as best be conld, he advanced on Pueble
and on April 20d, 1867, made a desperate
assault against the city and scored bis
greatest battle in capturing it.
——Don’t hope to please others if you
can't please yourself.