Cameron County press. (Emporium, Cameron County, Pa.) 1866-1922, October 05, 1899, Page 6, Image 6

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    6
MY WELCOME.
In the lighted homes at evening, pressed
agaln3t the window-tflasa
Are the little childish faces—l can see them
as 1 pass,
Little eager faces watching for a father's
coming feet.
Ready for a rush of welcome when he en
ters from the street;
And my heart grows sad with longing,
and my eyes with tears are wet.
Thinking of my own home-coming, and the
welcome others geL
Then I see the stars are shining—lights
from mansions far above.
Where my little ones await me. In the
home of perfect love;
And I think how they will greet me with
their smiles and kisses sweet.
When my day of life Is ended and they
hear my coming feet.
Till my burden grows less heavy and my
heart forgets to grieve,
AM I thing of that home-going and the wel
come I'll receive.
—Gertrude Benedict Curtis, In Chicago Ad
vance.
r-H o"Tcui
(Copyright. IBU6, by I) Appleton & Co.
All rights reserved.]
SYNOPSIS.
Master Ardick, Just reached his majority
and thrown upon his own resources, after
statins his case to one Houthwiek, a ship
master, is shipped as second mate on the
Industry, bound for Havana. Mr. Tym,
the supercargo, descries a gall. The strange
vessel gives chase, but is disabled by the
Industry's guns. In the fray Capt. Houth
wiok and one of the crew are killed, but the
Industry is found to be little damaged.
Bellinger , first mate, takes charge and
puts Into Sldmouth to secure a new mate.
Several days later, when well out to sea,
an English merchantman Is met, whose
captain has a letter addressed to Jeremiah
Hope, at Havana. The crew of the vessel
t*ll strange tales of the buccaneer Morgan,
■9fho is sailing under the king's commission
to take Panama. One night a litttle later,
the English vessel having proceeded on her
course, a bit of paper is slipped into Ar
dlck's hand by one of the sailors. This is
found to be a warning of a mutiny plot
headed by Pradey, the new mate. Ardick
consults Mr. Tym. They resolve to secure
the mate, but Pradey, eavesdropping in the
cabin, makes through the dorr and arouses
the crew. Capt. Selllnger joins Ardick and
Tym. The crew break through the row
barricaded door, but are forced to retire,
having lost seven of their nunVber. Finding
themselves now too short-handed toman
age the boat. Pradey decides to scuttle and
desert the vessel, taking his men off in the
only available boat. The captain, super
cargo and second mate soon discover their
plight, but hastily constructing a raft bet
away just before their vessel sinks. The
next morning a Spaniard draws near them.
The man in the rigging shouts: "If you
would board us, take to your oars. He
speedy, or you will fall short." On board
they are sent forward with thecrew, being
told they wil be sold as slaves on reaching
Panama. The ship's cook they tlnd to be
Mac Ivrach. "frae Clagvurloch." so a,
friend. Four days later the Spaniard Is
overhauled by a buccaneer flying the Eng
lish flag. The three Englishmen and Mac
Ivrach plan to escape to the buccaneer on
a rude raft. Sellinger, the last to attempt
to leave the Spaniard, is disabled. Just
after the others nut off they see a figure
dangling from the yard arm. whom they
suppose is Capt. Sellinger. Hailing the buc
caneer, our three friends find themselves
In the hands of their old mate, Pradey.
He treats (hem kindly and offers to do them
no harm If they wil but remain quiet con
cerning the mutiny he headed. The Black
Eagle, Pradey's ship, comes to Chagre,
Cuba, which town thoy tind Morgan has
taken under the English flag. From her
the Black Eagle with Morgan's fleet pro
ceeds to Panama. The command consists
of about 1,200 men Having landed, they
march on to the city. The assault on the
city is begun Many of the buccaneers fall,
nd Ardick is wounded. Through the smoke
he sees Pradey approaching. The city at
last falls. Ardick, coming to, finds Tym
had rescued him from Pradey's murderous
hand by killing the villain. The Spanish
flag has been hauled down from the castle
and the men allowed to plunder the city ct
will. Mac Ivrach spies a figure coming
toward them, and exclaims: "The gaist o
the captain." It Is indeed Sellinger. He
recounts his late adventures, then he
leads them to the rescueof Don Enrique de
Cavodilla, who had been kind to him on the
Pilanca, the Spanish vessel on which lie
had been a prisoner. Flight is the only
course open to the don, his wife and daugh
ter (Dona Carmen.) They Just manage to
leave the building when Capt. Tow land
comes to claim the dona as his prize, under
the huccarieeers' rule. Mr. Tym parleys
to gain time for the flight of his party, then
allows the men to enter. Seeking shortly
to join the don, they come upon his dead
body. They find also his wife has been
elaln and the young dora taken prisoner to
the castle, and immediately conceive a
bold plan for her rescue. They soon dis
cover her exact whereabouts, and amid the
carousals of the men, manage to again fr f
her and escape in a small boat. The third
day out a sail tsspted which they raise rap
idly, their craft having little speed, but the
wind soon fails both vessels, and a small
boat Is put out from the stranger. This
comes with 15 armed men, among whom Is
Towland. A hand-to-hand conflict ensues,
and Mr. Tym is wounded in the neck. Tn
the end the hostile force is completely
worsted, none escaping?. Tym's wound is
found not serious; Sellinger has also been
slightly wounded. Coming now out of their
sorest straits, they learn from Dona Car
men her nearest relative is an uncle, a
Jeremiah Hope, of Havana. Sellinger re
calls he has a letter for this gentleman, so
decides to sail for that place. Not long
afterward they come across a vv est in
dlan vessel bound for Panama. On board
Is her owner, the Jeremiah Hope they had
all along wanted to encounter. learning
of the fate of Panama, the course of the
vessel Is turned for Valparaiso. One night
Ardick finds Dona Carmen alone on deck,
and he tells her of his love for her and la
not rejected, but the consent of her uncle
must be had. which Ardick Immediately
proceeds to ask.
CHAPTER XXII.—CONTINUED.
I was not surprised that Mr. Hope's
feet came down from the chain, and
that he stiffened up and looked at me
with a clouded countenance. I faced
him steadfastly.
"This is a sort of business I was not
•xpecting," he said, in a cold and yet
well-mastered voice. "May I ask if you
have considered all that goes with your
proposition ?"
"As what, sir?" said 1, apprehend
ing well enough what he ineartt, yet
wishing to draw him out.
"I had thought better of your un
derstanding," he said, speaking now
with the harshness he had concealed
before. "What should I mean but the
proof of your fitness for the match?
In a word, what fortune have you, and
what are your other qualifications that
I should consider you?"
"That," I said, never flinching. "I can
as yet return but aji indifferent an
swer to. I mean from what I con
ceive is your standpoint. My personal
character, I may say, is all you can ask
for. As for fortune, I have none, and no
better than fair prospects. I mean to
follow the sea, at least, for a time,
and trus<t by and by to come to the
command of a ship, the which shots'd
not be such a poor attainment. My
father was a sailor," I went on,"and
rose to be a master and owned three
»,arts of his ship. I trust with so
briety and diligence to do ac much.
lie puffed out his lips, somewhat in
Mr. Tj ra's fashion, and squared about
to his former posture. 1 thought my
undauntedness and straightforward
ness had at least sihaken him.
He finally answered, his voice at least
lowered from the first high pitch:
"But, granting this, what then? At
best your plan requires considerable
time."
"That I admit," I said, reluctantly.
"It could not well be compassed under
a few years."
"And meanwhile my niece might lose
a desirable match. Come, I would not
be unreasonable. You seem a likely
enough fellow, and all I have heard
of you commends you, yet notwith
standing I cannot now concede what
you wish. Goon and achieve the things
yon speak of, if you can, and then we
will see what is to be said. Further
than this 1 will not promise. Indeed.
I have gone beyond my first intent in
yielding so much. But it must, be un
derstood that there is to be no more
love-making. I shall have my eyes
open —which it seems hitherto I have
not, or have been overpassed—and all
infringement I shall meet bv strict
measures. Now you have my answer,
which I have meant should be to the
point, as is my custom."
He ended with a little more severity
than he had begun, yet not harshly,
and seemed to await my answer.
In good sooth, I could not find much
fault. Fie had not given me the sort
of reiply I could have wished, to be
sure, and I did not goto the length
of finding much encouragement in his
generalities; yet, on the other hand,
he had not flatly refused me, and he
had not treated my suit with con
tempt. I perceived that it stood me
in hand to meet him in the prompt and
frank fashion he seemed to look for,
and hence I nodded in a satisfied way
and answered:
"I can ask nothing more. I am
aware that the greatness of what I
seek is beyond my deserts. Let it
stand as it is, then. You do not posi
tively refuse me, and I have my own
success to work out. I am beholden
to you, sir, for your consideration."
"Why, you are welcome," he an
swered, quite genially. "And, Master
Ardick," he went on, as I rose and
made togo, "I would say that I wish
to stand your friend. I have very keen
ly in mind the obligation you have
placed me under—you and your com
panions. I trust at no distant day
to be able to repay some small share
of the debt."
"I thank you in turn," I said, rather
coldly, "but in the present hospitality
you repay all that I, at least, can ac
cept. I wish you good-night."
And with a well-managed bit of loft
iness (albeit my heart was heavy) I
turned and stalked over to the com
panion.
"Master Ardick!" he called after me,
to my surprise.
"Aye, sir," I responded, wheeling in
stantly, my pulse suddenly quickened.
"Mentioning your companions sug
gests another matter. Do you recall
that I once asked you whence they
hailed?"
"I do," I answered, considerably dis
appointed. I had expected something
to another purpose.
"And you said that Mr. Tym and the
captain were from Southampton and
Mac Ivrach from Glasgow? lam ask
ing merely to be sure I understood
you."
"You are a little astray,"l answered,
my silly irritation passing; "only the
captain is from Southampton. Mr.
Tym, though he has of late lived in
London—that is, when not at sea—
was born and reared in some town in
Sussex."
"Is it so?" he said, with a little sur
prise. "Then I misapprehended you.
That alters the case. I must see Mr.
Tym. I will explain to you that the
business concerns the letter that Gapt.
Bellinger brought. This letter was
from a dear friend of mine, now dead,
and is of very much importance. It
was written in New York, where my
friend lived, and came to me in the
strange and roundabout way you
know of. Among other things, I must
now get upon the track of a certain
family of Sussex. If you are about to
go below, will you not ask Mr. Tym to
step up hither?"
"Certainly," I answered, and with a
slight distraction from my own m»t
ters for the moment, I wished him
good night and left the deck.
CHAPTER XXIII.
OF THE DETERMINATION OF THE
WHOLE MATTER.
But once dived down into the quiet
(none of the passengers were in
sight), the concern and trouble of the
old matter returned. The prospect
came back, dubious and uncertain, and
the pride which had sustained me so
well till now incontinently left me. I
made forward with heavy feet, and
only pulled myself together at the
door of the berth, where I took
thought that Mr. Tym might notice
me. I entered and found him up and
already about togo on deck, and de
livered Mr. Hope's message. He pe
plied: "Very well," and after finding
that I was not forgoing back, passed
out, and I heard him ascend the brass
shod stairs.
I might now momentarily see my
love, which I was bound to do, and tell
her how matters had gone, and, be
sides—well, I hoped for a fleeting em
brace. Most likely it would be our
first and last.
I slipped out into the main cabin,
accordingly, running my eye about
tender the dim, grease-smelling lamps,
but again finding the place empty,
and stole along to the senorita's door.
At my first light knock she opened
it. She was habited as she left the
deck, even to the mantilla. Her face
was pale, and her eyes seemed big and
bright, showing the strain of her
anxiety.
"He makes little of me, yet he has
not absolutely refused me," I hastily
whispered.
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1899.
"Oh. then there is hope!" she cried, |
tingeing instantly with color and
clasping her hands. "He did not de
spise you?"
"Nay," I answered, trembling with '
love and tenderness, "not so bad as
that."
I could not find it in my heart to
disclose the doubts and dubiousness
that were oppressing tne.
"But yet you speak heavily," she
said, looking at ine more narrowly,
"and there is that in your air— What
were his words, Carlos?"
"That he bids ine rise to a station in
life fit to sue for you," I was now
pressed to answer; "but even then
promises nothing. Inshort, he treated
me with civility, and perhaps beyond
my deserts, but has left me with near
as many doubts as I had at first. And
yet—"
"Poor Carlos!" she gently broke in,
and to my infinite delight she laid her
hand gently against my cheek. "I
perceive how it is. He has played the
shrewd merchant with you, and has
dealt with you in a fashion to avoid
offense, yet to afford little hope. But
be not discouraged, for if he did not
come out with harshness against you
he is not offended with you, and that
I am sure is much. I am now better
heartened than I have been at any
time before, and believe that all will
yet come out in triumph for us."
"Dear heart," said I, with a shaking
.voice, and, unable to utter any more
words, I clapped the caressing hand
to my lips and with another motion
drew her unresisting to my breast.
God wot never was a purer woman,
but she was no prude, and the generous
blood of Spain flowed in her veins.
She slipped her arms about my neck
and put her lips to mine, and let me
draw her loving weight to me, and so
we clung for a single moment.
The shortest moment in my life.
Feet began to clatter down the com
panion stairs, and with one swift, ten
der kiss and"l am yours, Carlos, or if
not, then the veil! The Ilaly One keeip
jou!" she was inside and the door
closed, and I was speeding to my
cabin.
I reached the door just as the per
son coming down fetched into the
range of the lamps. To my relief, it
wasMr.Tym. Nevertheless, I had never
seen him when he was less welcome.
"Is't you, Ardick?" he asked, as I
paused by the door. "Why, yes, now
I see it is. Come in, for I have a thing
to tell you."
I felt little curiosity, for the greater
matter moved me, but I passed after
him into the berth.
"Well, Ardich," he began, "to save
you guessing, I will go straight to the
bowels of the matter. I hava fallen
heir to a great fortune."
Distraught as I was and full of the
other affair, this, nevertheless, gave
"Tn® lady i« on d*ok. M
me a start. Recollecting myself and
how I ought to behave toward one who
had deserved so well of me, I caught
his hand and shook it heartily.
"I congratulate you, with all my
soul," I cried. "No man in the world
deserves the luck better!"
"Avast! you over-exalt me," he
laughed. "But it is the strangest
thing in the world. To come to the
point, then, it is Torr3'corn's letter
which has brought so much to pass.
First, a certain cousin, that I never
saw, died, and left me his entire great
possessions. He did it out of regard
for my mother, it seems, whom he
greatly loved. While dying he wrote
a letter to Mr. Hope, his dear friend
and business agent, begging that he
be executor of the will, and sent the
letter to a sea captain, who was soon
to sail for Havana. By mistake the
letter went to Capt. Torrycorn, and
soon after Mr. Hope himself sailed for
Panama. Having considerable busi
ness on the way he was deterred from
the first plan of his voyage, and
reached this point later than he had
expected. Yet still he did arrive in
precise season to meet us, to receive
his letter, and to find at his very elbow
the man the letter concerned. Shall
you find the match of all this for
strangeness and the very whim of for
tune?"
"Indeed," said I, much surprised, "it
passes all that I ever heard of. But
what is the amount of the fortune?"
"It is set forth in the letter to be
ninety thousand pounds sterling, but
may fall something short," he an
swered. "It isnminly invested in lands
about New York and in ships. It was
in the business of the last that my
cousin made his fortune. I mean in
the plantation trade. It is a bit
strange that I never heard of him, but
then his ships plied mostly between
our easterly ports and New York, and
I had no great knowledge of matters in
those parts."
But here something gave me a little
start. "Ships, then," said I, "will cut
• considerable figure with you. Do
you mean to keep them or sell them?"
"That I can answer better when I
see them, and likewise come to some
determination us to the other prop
erty," he answered. "But it may be 1
apprehend you. You would like to be
speak a berth?"
"It seems hasty and eager to men
tion it," I replied, a little in depreca
tion, "but the fact is—"
"Say no more," he cried, clapping me
on the back. "Can you doubt me?
Why, man, you shall be second mate
of my best ship. After that mate, and
then captain. Why not? And your
pay shall start with a iound sum, and 1
not cheated, either, for you are worth
it. Sellinger at first shall be your su
perior—for I have him also in mind, to
advance his fortunes—and I think
you could not ask for a better."
"God bless you!" I cried. "This is
more than you think:!'*
In spite of me the tears came into
my eyes.
"Why, Ardick, man, you have some
thing behind the lighter!" he said,
looking at me sharply. "Nay, out with
it and relieve your mind. I much doubt
if you will find more sympathetic
ears."
"That I know," I said, with a sob,
"but, indeed, I am but a poor creature.
I think I have lost the little courage I
had. Yet here is the matter, since you
are foolish enough to consent to hear
it." And with no words spared and
many flounderings and pullings up I
disclosed my secret.
"And so," he said with an odd kind
of precision, "that is the thing behind
the lighter? A stirring enough little
matter, too, but not calling for much
dwelling on."
"Sir!" I cried, reproachfully.
"Nay, but hear me," he said, waving
his hand. "Eight-and-twenty years ago
I was young and was in love. I thought
as you did, and was intoxicated in the
same fashion. I married after a
time."
I was silent. I thought I knew what
he was about to say. His marriage
had proved unhappy.
"In two years my wife died,"he went
on, his voice dropping and sobering.
"Those two years were happier than
all the time before or siuce. When
it came to the. last I asked Margaret,
to thank God for me that He had given
me the sweet loan of her. I promised
that I would strive to join her some
day. notwithstanding my many imper
fections, which still I mean to do, yet
in chief through the merits of Christ,
blessed be His name! for He must
make up my lack. And now to your
matter, which you must think I have
strayed from. Having been in this
way happy myself, I conceive it a good
and sweet thing if I roightmake you do
likewise, and this I believe I can do.
I have now neither kith nor kin—
poor George IJenther was surely the
last, as I thought another was before
him—and it will be fitting if I name an
heir. Why not you, Ardick, whom in
truth I love? I will adopt you, and
so at last 1 shall have a son. And now
do you think your matter worth much
dwelling on, for have we not found a
way to men 1 it? I trow my heir and
the agent of my ships, with good ven
tures of his own and what not, may
aspire to this young woman's hand?
Lf not, let me know, and we will see
whether the house of Reginald Tym
has forgotten how to uphold its hon
or by the sword!"
Long before the end of this epilogue,
svhich indeed the man spoke with the
water standing in his eyes, I had seized
his hand and' with trembling lips had
kissed it.
He broke off with this, standing up
and clapping on his hat.
"Yet wait a little, for, after all, the
business is not quite concluded. I
w'ould see Mr. Hope."
He retreated out of the berth, and
with feelings which you may guess,
but which I cannot hope to put into
words, I dropped down on the side
of the bunk and awaited his return.
He was gone above 20 minutes. When
be came in he made a grave bow and
pointed to my hat.
4 laughingly and yet-in a great trem
ble clapped it on, which done, he took
my arm and led me out and up the
companion stairs.
Near the top he only said:
"The lady is on deck. Why there I
cannot say, unless it might be to greet
a certain person. But in any event
she is in my way. 1 wish to have a
further talk with her uncle. There
fore you will oblige me by conducting
her one side, and I recommend the
after part of the quarter-deck, on the
larboard side, which is in shadow."
THE END.
niMinarck'n Experience.
Bismarck was one day in company
where among other things the subject
of how much it cost to gain experience
in life cropped up. He kept Giient for
a time, but presently joined in the con
versation and said: "Fools pretend
that you can only gain experience at
j-our own expense, but I have always
managed to learn at the expense of
others."—Detroit Free Press.
Merely Preliminary.
"Well, Louise, Where's your new
hat?"
"I haven't any new hat."
"Why, you said you were going down
town to-day to get a new hat."
"Arthur, you never hear anything
straight; I said I was going downtown
to-day to look at new hats."—Chicago
Daily Record.
Time lie U'li Hurled.
"Please, sir," said the energetic office
boy to the active member of th« firm.
"I wants ter get off this afternoon. Me
grandfather's dead."
"Is that so, James? When did he
die?"
"About five years ago, sir."—N. Y.
World.
The licit lit of Cruelty.
Benedict—A man out west has been
severely punished for having five wives.
Bachelor—What! You don't.mean to
say that he was compelled to live with
all of 'em?—Yonkers Statesman.
A RARE INSTANCE.
An I'nuiaal Experience Wblck th«
Bicycle Dealer Wonlil Like
to Have Repeutcd.
A heavy man with & square jaw walked
into a bicycle exchange the other after
noon. The proprietor advanced to wait
on him.
"Gimme a bike," Baid the square-jawed
man.
"To buy?"
"Yep."
"What make?"
"Any old make."
"Here's our specialty—good machine."
"All right, is it?"
"Good as any made."
"How muph?"
"Fifty."
"Dab a little graphite on the chain and
pump her up."
The proprietor dabbed a little graphite on
the chain and pumped her up. The square
jawed man pulled out a wad of the size of
his wrist, skinned off a fifty and handed it to
the proprietor. Then he ran the machine
out to the curb, got on it and rode off.
When the proprietor got over being
stunned he went to three or four friends on
the block to get their opinion as to whether
the SSO was counterfeit or the real thing.
The bill was genuine, and the proprietor has
been more or less dazed ever since.
"I can't understand such swift action as
that in the bike business," he says, with a
puzzled air.—Washington Post.
Looki All flight.
"Doesn't the bicycle make you feel
younger?" asked the expert.
"\V ell, I won't exactly say that," replied
the elderly novice, "but it certainly makes
me look younger."
"How is that?"
"Why, to sail through space as I occa
sionally do Certainly gives the appearance of
youthful activity, no matter how I may feel
about it."—Buffalo News.
College gradua.es and thermometers ars
marked by degrees.—Chicago Daily News.
Scaly
Blotchy Humors
Instantly Relieved
and Cured by
The itching and burning I suffered in my feet and limbs for tiiree years
Were terrible. At night they were worse and would keep me awake a
ITCHING greater part of the night. I consulted doctor after doctor,
■ I Jl/t CIC a 9 * was travelling ou the road most of my time, also one
LliYltjb 0 f our city doctors. None of the doctors knew what the
trouble was. I got a lot of the different samples of the medicines I had been
using. I found them of so many different kinds that I concluded I would
have togo to a Cincinnati hospital before I would get relief. I had fre
quently been urged to try CUTICURA REMEDIES, but I had no faith in
them. My wife finally prevailed upon me to try them. Presto! What a
change! lam now cured, and it is a permanent cure. I feel like kicking
some doctor or myself for suffering three years when I could have used
CUTICURA remedies. H. JENKINS, Middleboro, Ky.
Speedy Cure Treatment
Bathe, the. affected parts with IIOT water and CUTICURA SOAP to cleanse
the, skin and scalp of crusts and scales, and soften the thickened cuticle. Dry,
without hard rubbing, and apply CUTICURA Ointment freely, to allay itching,
irritation, and inflammation, and soothe and heal, and lastly take CUTICURA
RESOL VENT to cool and cleanse the blood.
This sweet »i;tx tvliolesome treatment affords instant relief, permits rest and
sloep in the a-"—rest forms of eczema and other itching, burning, and scaly
humors of the sKin, scalp, and blood, and points to a speedy, permanent, and
economical cure when all other remedies and even the best physicians fail.
Price. THE SKT, 112 1.25 ; or, KOAP, 25E„, 50C„ mnd U*SOLT*NT (LI»lf size) JOr Sold
throughout the world. POTTEK DRUG AND CHW. COW., Sole Prop!., iioetoo, llau. " ii#w to
Cure Itchisgi Scaly Uvmori," mailed free.
OZARK AGRICULTURE.
Hon Farmers I'rnrtlcr Hotntloa off
Crop* In That Prolific
Region.
Ozark humor appreciates the story that a
scientist was quite amazed t!ie other day at
observing a fanner, after killing a nest of
snakes turned up by the plow, arrange the
dead snakes in the furrow before he went
back to the plow.
"Why did you do that, my good man?"
the scientist asked.
The farmer looked curiously at the
■dentist, and, seeing that he was really m
search of information, replied:
"I do that so the pl>w will cover the
sr.akes on the next round."
Seeing that the scientist was still mysti
fied, the farmer continued:
'"I Cu\<!' the snakes so that they will de
compose. That is what you call it, isn't it'!"
") es?" said the scientist, with a rising in
flection.
"Well," continued the farmer, "the de
composition of animal matter furnishea
nourishment, for plant life, I believe?"
"Yes?" again said the scientist.
"Then, snakes will make corn grow, won't
they?" triumphantly asked the farmer.
"Yes?" said the scientist.
"And more corn will make more whisky,
won|t it?" said the farmer.
"Yes," said the scientist.
"And whisky will make more snakes,
won't it? Mister, that is what we call rota
tion in the agriculture of this region."—fc>t.
Louis Globe-Democrat.
They "Were l"p-to-Date.
Totsie McFadden—Say, we is disappoint
ed. Do las' chapter of "dis book says aat da
beautiful heroeen lived to be an old woman
and was highly respected. We don't want
nothink about no old woman. Wat w»
wants is de new woman, an' if youse can't
give us somethink about de new woman, giva
us our nickel back and we'll buy ehestnuta.
See?—Washington Post.
One who has a mind to think will sooa
have a thinking mind.—Ram's Horn.