6
LOVE'S VICTORY.
Unarmed, Love wins her bloodless battles
here
Against her stebborn foas;
Gho conquers Hate, and routs the coward
Fear,
And swiftly overthrows
Proud Self and blind Ambition. She de
thrones
King Greed, whose worldly sway
Has ruled men's minds in all the earth
ly zones
From the remotest day!
6he toiletli in the silences to gain
The victory o'er Wrong;
Grim Avarice resists her power In vain—
Her power, a heart-born song'
She worketh with her miracles to glean
Men's thought and to restore
That which they yearn to know of* the
Unseen,
To their soul's sight once more!
O Love, how mighty shall thy triumph
be.
Which now hath but begun;
Look where thine adversaries turn and
flee
Before Life's dawning sun!
As vapors vanish 'fore Aurora's beam,
When day disperses night,
Bo disappear before thy power supreme
The enemies of RiKht!
Unarmed, Love comes and scatters far
and wide
The hosts of selfish sin;
Ah, with what grandeur doth her rising
tide
O'er life's dark shoals flow in!
Transcript.
ICopyright, 1897. by »• Tennyson Neely.J
CHAPTER IX. — Continued.
"Bless my sriul!" said Folsom. "I
supposed that was what she was for.
What did these women mean by tell
ing me I must have a companion—a
guide, etc.?"
"They meant, you blessed daddy,
that they wished to provide you with
—one of their number, and me—with
something I uo net want. If Mrs.
Fletcher is to be housekeeper, I have
nothing to say. but —don't you think
your big daughter old enough and
wise enough to select her own com
panions? Daddy dear," she continued,
after a little pause, and nestling close
to him with a pathetic look in the big
brown eyes, her lips twitching a bit,
"I know how loving and thoughtful
you have been in all this, and 1
wouldn't have you think me ungrate
ful, but—did you believe I was always
going to be a little girl? What do
you suppose I studied housekeeping
lor at school? Mrs. Fletcher is en
gaged. I presume, and I can't ask you
to undo that now. but I wish you had
written to me first. However, if you
don't mind, there's somebody I'd
rather you would invite to take the
fourth seat to-day, and then you can
have Bappoose beside you, if you
wish."
"Why, of course, sweetheart, any
one you like."
"Lieut. Loomis, then, daddy—the of
ficer we met on the train. Jessie likes
him, and he's such a friend of her
brother—the only one we have yet
seen who seems to know him at all.
Then you could ask him to dinner,
too."
Folsom's face was a study. Doubt
and perplexity both were twitching
in the little muscles about his lips.
"We met three officers, did we not.
Elinor, and 1 had thought—somewhat
of—asking the major and his guest.
He said he wished to call, lie was
here while we were driving yesterday.
I met him later."
"Yes, I saw his card," was the hur
ried, indifferent answer. "Hut they
are not like Mr. Loomis. Daddy. I did
not at all like that Capt. Newhall, or
—for that matter—"
"They both seemed prodigiously
struck with you," said Folsom. in mis
guided confidence, yet pardonable
pride. "They've done nothing but talk
to me about you ever since."
"They did nothing but talk to me
all the way over the mountains, ex
cept when they were out taking what
1 have reason to believe was an occa
sional drink, daddy mine. Jess had
Mr. Loomis to herself. They have
found your weak spot, daddy. They
know you love to talk of your daugh
ter. You have only known Maj. Bur
leigh a little while, is it not so?"
"Only within the year, perhaps,
though of course I've heard of him a
great deal."
"And this Capt. Newhall, whose reg
iment is in Louisiana while he's out
here on leave —I 'houglit oflieers went
east when they got leave."
"Newhall says he's out looking over
some mining schemes, lie lias money
to invest, I believe."
"Be should invest some money in a
traveling suit, daddy, dear. That coat
ami his linen seemed woefully out. of
condition. Gentlemen are not care
less about such matters."
"Oh. lie explained that his trunks
were delayed in Omaha or somewhere,
and were coming along next train. I
own I was prejudiced against him,
too. but of course if he's a friend and
guest of Burleigh's he- —he must be all
right. He's staying with him at the
depot."
"And you've got to invite them to
flintier?" asked Miss Folsom, after an
other pause, during which she had
been thinking deeply.
"Not if you don't want it, pet. Of
course they'll expect it. Army oflieers
are hospitable, you know. Burleigh
has asked me to dine with him a doz
en times, though I've only been there
once.'
"Then you'll have to invite him,
daddy," was the answer, with quick
decision. "Only, just wait for a day
two. Capt. Newhall was going
right out to the mines, he said, nnd
there may I>p others we'd be glad to
have. Jessie's brother ought to be
here any hour."
"Yes," said Folsotn, dubiously. "I've
been thinking about him—l've been
wishing—"
But he hesitated and faltered and
could not meet the deep brown eyes,
so full of searching inquiry and keen
intelligence.
"You've been thinking—what, dad
dy?" she asked, and now her slender
hands were on his shoulders and she
was turning him so that she eould
study his face. "You have been hear
ing something you do not wish us
to know, daddy, dear. 1 heard Maj.
Burleigh say something to Mr. Loomis
about—about Lieut. Dean, and I know
Mr. Loomis <1 id not like it, and Jes
sie and I can't believe it. Father,
where is he? Why doesn't he come?
Why do these—these people at the
fort hem and haw and hesitate when
they speak about him? Jessie is
getting so troubled."
"I'm getting troubled, daughter,"
answered Folsom, impulsively. "I
never met a likelier young fellow or
one that promised to make a better
officer. He may be all right, too, only
it isn't so much what they do say as
what they don't say that troubles me.
Burleigh here and old Stevens out at
the fort and one or two others I've
asked about him. Burleigh says he
'lost his nerve' when they met Bed
Cloud's big band. A boy might be ex
cused for that so long as lie didn't
misbehave. It was big responsibility
for a young lieutenant. But these
people, as you speak of them out a.t
the fort, really know very little about
Dean. Burleigh says he's in a position
that enables him to know so much
more about the character and habits
of the young officers."
"Surely he can say nothing against
Mr. Dean!" exclaimed Bappoose,
looking up with quick indignation in
her brown eyes. "No one knows how
good and generous he has been to
Jessie and his mother."
They were standing at the moment
in the corner of the library farthest
from the doorway. The front win
dows opened to the north, giving a
fine view of the rolling hills rising
higher and higher and looking down
upon the grass-grown slopes spread
out at their feet, criss-crossed and
traversed by hard-beaten roads and
trails. Immediately in front of the
house Folsom had seeded and watered
and coaxed into semblance of a lawn
the best turf to be had in that sec
tion of Wyoming, and inclosed it in
a spick and span white picket fence.
The main road between the fort and
the railway station passed directly in
front of his gate. The side window
of the cozy room looked out to the
west over the valley of a rushing
stream, once rich in trout, but now
much infested by the mules from Uur
ieigh's corral, which lay half a mile
away to the southeast, out of sight
of Folsom's house except from the up
per windows. Eager to stock the li
brary with standard works against
his daughter's coining, the old trader
had consulted a friend among the offi
cers and had sent a lavish order to a
house in Chicago. Books, therefore,
were there in plenty on the handsome
shelves, and they were not ill-chosen
either, but it was Mrs. Fletcher who
pointed out how still and angular
everything looked, who introduced the
easy lounge, the soft rugs, the heavy
hanging portieres of costly Navajo
blankets. It was her deft touch that
draped the curtains at the windows
and softened and beautified the lines
the hand of man would have left
crude and repellent. And that li
brary had been her favorite haunt;
but since the coining of the girls Mrs.
Fletcher had seemed to retire to her
own room aloft, and to spend 110 time
below stairs that was not demanded
by her household duties. Now as the
father and daughter were talking
earnestly together, they heard Mrs.
Fletcher moving about overhead as
though looking over the work of the
housemaid. Jessie had gone to her
own room to write a short letter to
her mother. Maj. Burleigh was to
come at 10:30 to drive them out to
Binnacle Butte, a sharp, rocky height
far across the valley, from the sum
mit of which a wonderful view was
to be obtained. It lacked but five
minutes of the time and suddenly
Mrs. Fletcher's voice was heard on the
floor above. It was a well-modulated
voice, gentle and controlled, with a
clear, vibrant ring in it that made the
words distinctly audible to the hear
ers below.
"The major's carriage is coming up
the street, Miss Dean. There are two
officers."
"Two!" exclaimed Jess, starting to
her feet, thinking only of her brother.
"Oh! I wonder if —" And then they
heard her go pit-a-pat through the hall
to the front of the house, heard Mrs.
Fletcher more deliberately follow,
heard presently the beat of horses'
hoofs on the hard roadway, and' the
whir of coming wheels. "I'll go out to
meet them, Elinor —I'll—l'll talk to you
more about this some other time. You
don't care togo on this ride this morn
ning one bit, do you, dear?" he added,
uneasily.
"No, father; frankly, I don't—but he
has been polite to 3011 and attentive
to us. There's no help for it."
And so Folsom went alone to the
door to meet his visitors on the porch
without, and did not hear, did not see
Mrs. Fletcher, who came hastily down
the stairs, her face singularly pale, a
glitter of excitement in her eyes. On
tiptoe she hastened along the broad
hall, reaching the library door just as
Folsom stepped out on the porch. On
tiptoe she darted in, closed th« door be
hind her, almost rushed to the north
window, and there grasping the cur
tain she crouched, heedless of the possi
bility of observation, and 1 for half a
minute clung and crouched and stared.
Then, as Folsom's genial, powerful
voice was heard in welcoming accents,
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY JANUARY 17, 1901.
and heavy footsteps came along the
broad board walk, the woman straight
ened suddenly and, noiseless as before,
hurried back across the room and came
face to face with the daughter of the
house.
"Oh, Miss Folsom!" she faltered, her
bosom heaving in violent agitation. "I
did not know you were here. I —excuse
me—" and hastened out of the room and
up the winding stairs.
"I'appoose" never hesitated. Coolly,
quickly, she stepped to the window.
Maj. Burleigh had just reached the top
step and was exchanging greeting with
his host. The stylish team and glisten
ing wagon were just spinning away.
"It'll be back in five minutes," she
heard the quartermaster explain to her
father. "Newhall has to meet some
people coming in by stage from Cirecn
river. I thought I'd rather spend the
time here."
And on the back sea.t, affably waving
his hand in adieu, and jauntily lifting
his rakish forage cap in salutation gen
eral to any of the young ladies who
might be watching, sat the gentleman
whose regiment was in Lousiana while
he was up here on leave looking after
mining investments.
CHAPTER X.
"Three mortal hours," said Miss Fol
som to her fond little school friend and
chum that afternoon, "have I had to sit
or stroll with or listen to Maj. Bur
leigh. I never once was able to enjoy
the view. What made him hurry us
away from the northeast point, do you
suppose?"
"Did' j'ou notice that, Nell? I did,
too, and I was so interested in the view.
Away up toward Laramie peak I could
see something through the glasses that
looked like a lot of little ants crawling
along together. It was just after that
—just after we looked through the
glass, that he- marched us round to the
other side. The view toward Green
river isn't half as pretty."
"And now he's telling some in
terminable story to father over their
cigars. What shall we do if he hangs
on? Father will have to ask him to
drive with us to the fort, and there
won't be room."
"Unless Mrs. Fletcher gives up her
seat." said Jessie, demurely.
"Mrs. Fletcher isn't going. A very
different person takes her seat to-day,
Jess. Father left a note for Mr.
Loomis at the hotel and he accepted.
Now you see why I don't want Maj.
Burleigh."
It was then long after three o'clock.
At five they were to start, and Jessie
j
t W\~
The voice came neither from bed nor lounge.
could hardly curb her impatience. The
mail from Frayne, so said Folsom,
woul'J arrive that evening, and then
surely there would be news of Mar
shall. They had slipped away to their
rooms after the bountiful luncheon
served on their return, in order, as
I'appoose expressed it, that the gen
tlemen might have their cigars in
peaee. Mrs. Fletcher, after seeing that
everything was prepared, had direct
ed the servant to say to Mr. Folsom,
on the return of the party, that she
would prefer not 1o appear, and would
be glad to keep her room, as she did
not feel it at all necessary for the
housekeeper to meet strangers, and
Folsom felt a sense of relief. It was
so much sweeter not to have any pre
siding genius other than I'appoose,
not that he was forgetful of Mrs.
Fletcher's merits and services—which
were great—but it was plain to see
that his daughter would have been
happier had no such ofiice existed as
that for this deserving and
destitute widow. At three Miss Fol
som had gone and tapped at the lady's
door—her room was in the third story,
overlooking the street—and wtis very
civilly assured that Mrs. Fletcher
stood in need of nothing, but, being
wearied, she would like a little sleep.
No, she did not even care for a cup of
tea. Yet Elinor felt confident that
the voice that replied to her inquiries
came neither from the bed nor the
lounge, but from the direction of the
front window.
At three the cigars were smoked out
and the host and his guests were in
the library. It was Folsom's custom,
when a possible thing, to take a brief
nap after the midday meal, and Elinor
felt, sure h» would be glad of the op
portunity row, if Burleigh would only
go, but Burleigh wouldn't. In monot
onous monologue his voice came float
ing up to the second' floor, drowsy,
unbroken in its soporific flow, and the
girls themselves, after the morning's
drive in the clear, bracing air, felt as
though forty winks would be a oless
ing. Could it be that Burleigh lin
gered on in hopes of their reappear
ance below? Might it not be that if
relief came not speedily Pa (Ml Fol
som would' yield to the spell and fall
asleep in ht« easy-chair? Was it not
Miss Folsom's duty to descend and
take the burden of entertainment off
I thos® elder shoulders? These thoughts
oppressed the girl, and, starting up,
she cried:
"It's simply wicked' of me staying
here and lotting poor papa be bored
to death. l)o come down, Jess, .tear,
unless you're too dreadfully sleepy,
lie acts just as though ho intended
never to go."
And Jesa promised l reluctantly to
come down in ten minutes, if he didn't
leave; hut she hated 1 him, and! had
hated him ever shice he spoke so of
Marshall in the car three days before.
The upper hall had been quite dark
when Miss Folsom went up »o inquire
how Mrs. Fletcher was, just after
luncheon. The door to her little room
was tightly closed. The blinds in all
the other rooms aloft were drawn
against the glare of the sunshine in
the cloudless atmosphere, yet now, as
I'appoose stepped suddenly out upon
the landing, she was surprised to see
that the upper floor was much lighter
than when she went up half an hour
earlier. The maid had' not gone thith
er from the kitchen, and Mrs. Fletch
er wished to doze. Who, then, could
have opened both blind and: door and
let in that flood of light? Impulsive
ly the active girl flew up the winding
stairs to the third story, and some one
suddenly withdrew from the balcony
rail, and' an instant later, as Miss
Folsom reached the top, all became
dark again. Mrs. Fletcher's door had
unquestionably been open, and was
now shut to. She must have been out
there listening, and gravely the young
girl asked herself what it meant—
Mrs. Fletcher's agitation in the li
brary that morning as she peered out
at the major's wagon; her absence
from luncheon on account, as she
pleaded', of not desiring to appear
when company was present; and' now,
despite her desire to sleep, her vigil
at the third-floor landing, where she
was surely listening to the sounds
from below.
Pondering over the facts, Elinor
Folsom slowly retraced her steps and
went downstairs. She reached the li
brary none too soon. Old John's eyes
were closed and he was slowly top
pling, overcome with sleep. The sound
r, f her cheery voice aroused him, and
he started, guilty and crestfallen.
Burleigh's heavy face brightened
visibly at her coming. He cared no
more for music than does a cat, but
eagerly followed her across the broad
hall into the parlor when she suggest
ed showing him the beautiful piano
papa had given her; and old John,
blessing her, lurched for the sofa,
buried his hot head in a pillow, and
was asleep in ten seconds. Maj. Bur
leigh was alone with the lovely daugh
ter of the veteran trader. He was a
man of the world, she an unsophisti
ea ed girl just out of school—so said
Burleigh, albeit a most charming one;
and he, who had monopolized her time
the entire morning, bore down once
more upon his prize.
[To Be Continued ]
The Spirit Medium*.
The Occasional Visitor—l have noted
that- these clever spirit mediums who
can make chairs and l miscellaneous
furniture dance a hornpipe always call
in a very material dlrayman when
they want to move the piano.
The Artist—You recollect the
Frenchman who asked an Irish me
dium to produce the spirit of Vol
taire? Voltaire came forth, much
to his admirer's delight. It was Vol
taire complete in every detail. The
Frenchman began an animated' con
versation in their native tongue. The
shade did not respond. At last the
Frenchman grew exasperated) and
turned to the medium.
"Not can ze great Voltaire con
verse?"
"Of course he can. yez heathen, if
ye will stop that forrin lingo and
talk good' English. Do yez take him
for a frog-eater?"—"As Talked in.the
Sanctum."
IIIn )liiilV
Hie secret of success is to believe in
the thing that one is doing. Because
he innocently expected nothing but
compliments, an Italian organ-grinder
tiasily got out of a difficulty. He lyid
been playing before the house of a
very irascible old gentleman, who furi
ously and with wild gesticulations or
dered him to "clear off." The organ
grinder, however, continued to grind
away, till finally the old gentleman had
him arrested for disturbance. At the
police court the magistrate asked why
he did not leave when requested to do
so. "Me no understan' much Ingleese."
was the reply. "Well," said the magis
trate, "but you must have understood
what he meant when he kept stamping
his feet and waving his arms." "No,
me not know," replied the Italian. "Me
tink he come to dance to my music."
The organ-grinder was discharged.—X.
Y. World.
Proof Positive,
Female Customer—You say these
spoons are solid silver, young man?
Clerk —Yes, ma'am; every one of
them.
Female Customer—Who are tliey
made by?
Clerk—Sterling, ma'am. His name
is on every spoon.—Judge.
Not Keceiinry,
Deacon Short—Bobbins gave me a
lead quarter when 1 asked him to
change a dollar for me.
Friend—Did you get after him about
it?
"Oh, no; I didn't have any trouble
in passing it."—Harlem Life.
Uncle Allen.
"The trouble about onions," philoso
phized Uncle Allen Sparks, "is that
when you eat them you have to take so
many people into your confidence
about it."—Chicago Tribune.
Hi* Virtue.
"Well, no one can ever say that I talk
about my neighbors."
"No. You talk about yourself so
much that-you don't have time."—Chi
cago Tlpies-HetalU. _
MONEY IN PATENTS.
The Progressive Development of
American Inventive Genius.
About One Invention In 2."» Pay* for
(lie IC*i»eu«p of Patent Inn It. Hut
Sonii' of Them Renp t on.sitl
eruble Fortunes.
An article by the late E. V. Smalley,
in the Century, tells how patents
are taken out in Washington, what
they cost, and what some of them
yield to tke inventors.
The progressive development of in
ventive genius in this country, as in
dicated by the number of patents is
sued each year, has been by successive
waves rather than by a regular and
continuous advance. Taking the first
year of each decennial period, we find
that in 1880 the number of patents
granted was 41; in 1810, 223; in 1820,
155; in 1830, 554; in 1840, 473; in 1850,
995; in 1860, 4,538. The great in
crease in inventions during the de
cennial period ISSO-60 is a remark
able feature in patent office history.
This period was one of rapid national
development, and was characterized
by the great extension of steam
transportation, the general introduc
tion of the telegraph, and the perfec
tion of the sewing-machine, the reap
er, the mower and many other val
uable devices. During the civil war
the production of patents fell off. but
no sooner had the volunteer troops
returned to their homes than a won
derful fertility of invention was dis
played. Ideas that had been devel
oping in the mWrls of the s-oldiers
during their life in the camps were
put into models by the thousand
and sent to Washington. In 1865 the
number of patents granted was 6,616,
and in 1867 it had run up to 13,026.
It remained for a time at about that
annual figure, being, in 1870, 13,947;
but in 1876, the year of the Centen
nial exhibition, which powerfully
stimulated inventive genius.it reached
the highest number yet attained,
17,026. Then there was a steady re-
A DISAPPOINTED INVENTOR.
(Patent Office Does Not Consider Per
petual Motion Devices.) „
wssion, and by 1880 the patent crop
had. fallen back to 12,947. Since 1883
the number of patents annually is
sued has exceeded 20,000. During the
calendar year 1899 there were issued
25,527 patents.
One of the old examiners in the
patent office estimates that about one
invention in 25 repays the cost of
taking out a patent. Yet inventors
as a class are sanguine men, and no
knowledge of the enormous percent
age of chances against them will de
ter them from multiplying ingenious
devices. Every one expects a for
tune from his particular piece of
mechanism. Every one has heard
not. only of the enortnous sums real
ized from the great inventions of the
last half-century, but also of the large
returns yielded by things apparently
trifling which have struck the public
fancy or met the public need. The t#y
called the returning ball, a small ball
attached to an elastic string, is said
to have produced a profit of $50,000
a year; the rubber tip on lead-pencils
has yielded a competence to the in
ventor; more than $1,000,000 has been
earned by the gimlet-pointed screw,
the inventor of which was so poor
that he trudged on foot from Phila
delphia to Washington to get his pat
ent; the roller-skate has yielded
$1,000,000 after the patentee spent
$125,000 in England fighting infringe
ments; the dancing Jim Crow is set
down for $75,000, and the copper tip
for children's shoes at $2,000,000; the
spring window-roller pays SIOO,OOO a
year, the needle-threader SIO,OOO a
year; from the drive-well $3,000,000
have been realized; the stylographic
pen is credited with SIOO,OOO a year;
and the egg-beater, the rubber stamp
and the marking pad for shading dif
ferent colors, with large sums. These
are only a few examples among hun
dreds that might be cited. No wonder
inventors are hopeful when they re
flect that comfort for life and fortune
for their children may come from
a single fortunate idea.
Hurled Inn Deep Well.
Two men. or rather a man and a
boy, were digging a well in a New
Jersey village, when the well caved
in, as is not unusual. Being in sandy
soil, the precautions had been taken
to board the well as it was being
sunk, and it happened that the planks
fell over the digger, and tfte sand on
the planks. The boy, who was doing
the hauling with a bucket and wind
lass, started to dig out the man, but
only succeeded in bringing down
more sand. So he ran for help, and,
although it looked like a hopeless
task, a tunnel was run in a slanting
direction, and the digger was rescued
alive. He was found huddled up, with
his knees touching his chin, in which
position he been for nearly 30
hours. . _
J* •• •»
BANANA COMPLAIN.
fruit KotlliiiS tlie ItlonUey
Itlver, IliMirill r.ts, anil No Mraiu-
Mill>>« to Curry is.
The Clarion, a newspaper published
at Belize, iiritish Honduras, gives
voice to the troubles of the banana
planters on the Monkey river, south
of that port. They depend wholly
upon the banana crop for a liveli
hood. The .Mobile Steamship Com
pany lias for six years been running'
a fortnightly service to the river
which has been its chief source of
banana supply, but to-day its vessels
are steaming' past the port and buy
ing their cargoes in the harbors of
Guatemala and Honduras, leaving the
Alonkey river planters iu the lurch,
says the New York bun.
So the planters are writing letters
telling of their grievances. They say
the steamship company has hereto
fore paid a fair price and everything
has been satisfactory. In September,
however, the company confronted
tfie planters with a contract and told
them they must sign it or the service
would be discontinued. The planters
say the proposed contract so changes
the classification of fruit tiiat they
would be robbed of a third of their
income if they assented to it. They
told the company they would not
sign, and now they sit on the
wharf, where the fruit is rotting, and
see the steamers pass by in the oiling
on the way to the republics south of
them to load up with bananas for the
American market.
The planters are tasting the bitter
ness of having commodities to sell
without any means of transporting
them to market. They say they will
not sign the contract, for it means
ruin, and they will not assent to in
justice. So they appeal to the colo
nial government to redress their
wrong. Why, they ask, did not the
government compel the company to
ship the fruit of the colony when a
contract was given it to carry the
mails? What will the government do
to secure transportation now that
the planters are helpless and living
in enforced idleness while their crops
are spoiling on their hands? These
planters have from 3,000 to 4,000
bunches of bananas to ship every
week, and there is work for any
steamship company that wants the
job.
British Honduras is the least im
portant colony in the British empire.
The interior has been little developed
and everything has gone in a liappy
go-lueky way, just as Belize was
named. The English who settled
there named the town Wallace. The
Spaniards had difficulty in pronounc
ing the name and they corrupted it
to 'ielice, and later it came to be
called Itclize. The Englishmen in
that warm country were too leth
argic to oppose this corruption of
the name, and so they lazily acqui
esced 111 the Spanish version of it.
Few regions abound more in nat
ural resources. J. Bellamy wrote 11
years ago: "A remarkable peculiar
ity of the climate and soil is that
almost all the tropical products of
commercial value may be grown in
the same zone. 1 have frequently
seen maize, rice, bananas, pineapples,
oranges, coffee,cacao, cotton, Cassava,
rubber and cocoanuts all flourishing
on the same piece of ground. There
is an abundance of fibre-producing
plants and a large extent of land
suitable for cattle and mule breed
ing."
The crying need just now is trans
portation for fruit, and it is to be
hoped that some day the develop
ment of this neglected corner of the
world may be commensurate with its
large resources.
THE CHANGE OF LIFE
Is the most important period in a wo
man's existence. Owing to modern
methods of living, not one woman in
a thousand approaches this perfectly
natural change without experiencing
a train of very annoying and some
times painful symptoms.
Those dreadful hot flashes, sending
the blood surging to the heart until it
seems ready to burst, and the faint
feeling that follows, sometimes with
chills, as if the heart were going to
stop for good, are symptoms of a dan
gerous, nervous trouble. Those hot
flashes are just so many calls from
nature for help. The nerves are cry-
Mas. JENXIK Nonr.i.
ing out for assistance. The cry should
be heeded in time. Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound was pre
pared to meet the needs of woman's
system at this trying periad of her life.
It builds up the weakened nervous
system, and enables a woman to pass
that grand change triumphantly.
" I was a very sick woman, caused
by Change of Life. I suffered with hot
flushes, and fainting spells. I was
afraid togo on the street, my head
and back troubled me so. I was en
tirely cured by Lydia E. Pinkham's
Vegetable Compound." —Mlts. JKNNIB
NOBLE, 5010 Keyser St., Uermantown,
Pa.
Boat Cough Syrup. Tits tea Good. 17 80 |PI
In time. Sold by tlrnsmlat**. |Sfl