6
THE EVENING PRAYER.
Tired eyes are gently closing
As the twilight droppeth down,
Wrapping »»tth the veil of slumber
Hill and valley, dale and town;
1 Softly 11111* hands are folded
As the shadows closer creep—
Sinless Hps of childhood murmur
"Now J lay me down to sleep."
Down life's pathway stretching onward*
Ijieth snares unseen, unknown,
Waiting for their coming footsteps—
But the Father guards His own;
And, as stainless as In childhood.
He will guide by pitfalls deep,
sf, as now, they plead: "I pray Thee—
Pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep."
Wow the tender mother, listening,
Feels her pulses thrill with fear.
As she fancies, in the shadow,
Death, the dark-robed, lurking near;
And with throbbing heart she questions
How the sacrifice to make,
At the low words, scarcely spoken;
"Should I die before 1 wake."
Slumber now has almost won them,
Droops the lashes lower still.
While a sweet and holy presence
All the twilight seems to fill;
And the listening Saviour only,
As the words their lips forsake,
Hears the last half-uttered whisper:
"Pray—Thee—Lord—my soul—to take."
—Ettle Gilbert McNeil, in Ram's Horn.
[Copyright. 1897, by F Tennyson Neeiy.]
CHAPTER XXI.—CONTINUED.
It was an impressive scene as the
old soldier read the sad details to the
rapidly growing group of weeping
women, for that was Emory's garri
son now, while the official reports
were hurried onto catch the general
•on his way to Cheyenne. Some one
warned the band leader, and the
musicians marched away to quarters.
Come one bore the news to town,
where the flags over the hotel and
the one newspaper office were at
•once lowered to half staff, although
that at Emory, true to official eti
quette and tradition, remained until
further orders at the peak, despite
the fact that two of the annihilated
•companies were from that very post.
Come one bore the news to Burleigh's
quarters at the depot, and, despite
assertions that the major could see
no one and must not be agitated or
•disturbed, disturbed and agitated he
was beyond peradventure. Excitedly
the sick man sprang from his bed at
the tidings of the massacre and be
gan penning a letter. Then he sum
moned a young clerk from his office
and told him he had determined to
get up at once, as now every energy
of the government would doubtless be
put forth to bring the Sioux to terms.
It was the young clerk who a few
weeks back had remarked to a fellow
employe how "rattled" the old man
was getting. The major's doctor was
not about. The major began dictat
ing letters to various officials as he
rapidly dressed, and what happened
C#n best be told in the clerk's own
words: "For a man too sick to see
anyone two hours before," said he,
"the major had wonderful recupera
tive powers, but they didn't last. He
•was in the midst of a letter to the
•chief quartermaster, and had got as
far as to say: 'The deplorable and
tragic fate of Lieut. Dean points, of
course, to the loss of the large sum
intrusted to him,' when I looked up
anfl said: 'Why, Lieut. Dean ain't
dead, major; he got in all right,' and
he stared at me a minute as if I
had stabbed him. His face turned
yellow-white and down he went like
• log—had a fit, I s'pose. Then I
ran for help, and then the doctor
•came and hustled everybody out."
But not till late that night did
these details reach "Old Pecksniff" at
the post. A solemn time was that
▼eteran having, for many of the wom
en were almost in hysterics and all
were in deep distress. Two of their
•umber, wives of officers, were wid
owed by the catastrophe, and one lay
senseless for hours. It was almost
dark when Mr. Fofcsom and the girls
•drove homeward, and his face was
lined and haggard. Pappoose nestled
londiy, silently at his side, holding
fcis hand and closely scanning his
features, as though striving to read
Lis thoughts. Jessie, comforted now
by the knowledge" that Marshall was
rapidly recovering, and the words of
praise bestowed upon him in the
colonel's letters, was nevertheless in
deep anxiety as to the future. The
assurance that the Sioux, even in
their overwhelming numbers, would
not attack a stockade, was not suf
ficient. Marshall would be on duty
again within a very few days, the
colonel said. His wounds would heal
within the week, and it was only loss
of so much blood that had prostrated
him. Within a few days, then, her
loved brother would be in saddle and
in the field against the Indians. Who
could assure her they would not have
another pitched battle? Who could
■ay that the fate that befell the gar
rison at Warrior Gap might not await
the troop when next it rode away?
And poor Jess had other anxieties,
too, by this time. Loomis was burn
ing with eagerness for orders to lead
it instantly to join the field column,
and importuned Col. Stevens, even in
the midst of all the grief and shock
of the early evening. Almost angrily
the veteran colonel bade him attend
to his assigned duties and not de
mand others. "C" troop should not
with his advice and consent be sent
north of the Platte. "First thing
you know, sir, after they've got ail
the troops up along the Big Horn
11 sec tluj Sioux iju force this side
of the river, murdering right and
left, and not a company to oppose
them. >'o, sir, more than enough of
that troop have already been sacri
ficed! The rest shall stay here."
And well was it, for one and all,
that ' Old Pecksniff" held firm to his
decision. It was one of his lucid in
tervals.
Late that evening, after ten o'clock,
there came the t-ound of hoofbeats
on the hard road and the crack of a
long-lashed mule-whip, and the fort
ambulance clattered up to Folsom's
gate, and the colonel himself, his ad
jutant by his side, came nervously
up the gravel walk. Folsom met them
at his door. Instinctively he felt that
something new and startling was add
ed to the catalogue of the day's dis
astrous tidings. Pecksniff's face was
eloquent cf gravest concern, mingled
with irrepressible excitement.
"Let nie see you in private, quick,"
he said. "Mr.—ah—Mr. Adjutant,
will you kindly remain in the parlor."
and, taking Folsom by the elbow,
Pecksniff led impetuously into the li
brary. Hie girls had gone aloft only
a moment before, but, dreading news
of further evil, Pappoose came flut
tering down.
"Go in and welcome the adjutant,
dear," said Folsom, hurriedly. "The
colonel and I have some matters to
talk of." Obediently, she turned at
once, and, glancing up the stairs,
noticed that Mrs. Fletcher's door
must have been suddenly opened, for
the light from her room was now
streaming on the third-floor balus
ters. Listening again! What could
be the secret of that woman's in
tense watchfulness? In the parlor
the young staff officer was pacing up
and down, but his face lighted at
sight of Elinor.
"Do you know —Is there anything
new? —anj thing worse?" she quickly
asked, as she gave her slim young
hand.
"Not concerning our people," was
the significant answer. "But I fear
there's more excitement coming."
Barely waiting for Elinor to with
draw, Pecksniff" had turned on Fol
som. "You know I opposed the send
ing of that party? You know it was
all ordered on Burleigh's urging and
representations, do you not?"
"Yes, I heard so," said Folsom.
"What then?"
"You know he planned the whole
business —sent 'em around by Canyon
Springs and the Sweetwater?"
"Ifes, I heard that, too," said Fol
som, still wondering.
"You know some one must have put
that Birdsall gang on the scent, and
that Burleigh has had alleged nerve
prostration ever since, and has been
too ill to see anyone or to leave his
bed."
"Yes, so we were told."
"Well, he's well enough to be up
and away—God knows where, and
here is the reason—just in from the
north," and, trembling with excite
ment, Pecksniff pointed to the closing
paragraph of the letter in his hand:
"Cords, seals and wrapping were Intact
when handed to the quartermaster, but the
contents were noticing but worthless pa
per. It must have been so when given to
Lieut. Dean."
Folsom's eyes were popping from
his head. He sank into a chair, gaz
ing up in consternation.
"Don't you see, man!" said Peck
sniff, "some one in the depot is short
SIO,OOO or so. Some one hoped to
cover this shortage in just this way—
to send a little squad with a bogus
package, and then turn loose the big
gest gang of ruffians in the country.
They would have got it but for the
storm at Canyon Springs, and no one
would have been the wiser. They
couldn't have got it without a mur
derous fight. No one would ever dare
confess his complicity in it. No state
ment of theirs that there wasn't a
cent in the sack could ever be be
lieved. Some one's shortage would
be covered and his reputation saved.
The plot failed, and God's mercy was
over Dean's head. He'd 'a' been mur
dered or ruined if the plan worked—
and now Burleigh's gone!"
CHAPTER XXII.
Yes, Burleigh was gone, and there
was confusicm at the depot. At six the
doctor had come forth from his room,
saying he was better, but must not be
disturbed. At seven the major, carry
ing a satchel, had appeared at his of
fice, where two clerks were smoking
their pipes, innocent of all thought of
their employer's coming. It was after
hours. They had no business there at
the time. Smoking was prohibited in
the oflice, yet it was the major who
seemed most embarrassed at the unex
pected meeting. It was the major who
hastily withdrew. He was traced to
the railway, and it was speedily found
that he had sent word to the division
superintendent that the general had tel
egraphed for him to join him at once at
Cheyenne, and a special engine and
caboose would be needed. At a quarter
past seven this had started full speed.
It was 11 when the discovery was made.
Meantime Folsom and Stevens had con
sulted together. Folsom had told of
the large sum he had loaned Burleigh
and the conditions attached, and be
tween them a dispatch, concisely set
ting forth their suspicions, was sent,
the general at Cheyenne, with orders
to "rush," as they were determined if
possible to head oh the fugitive at that
point. Back came the wire ten minutes
before midnight that the general had
left Cheyenne for Laramie by stage
that evening, and must now be near the
Chugwater and far from telegraphic
communication. Then Stevens wired
the sheriff at Cheyenne and the com
manding officer of the new post of Fort
Russell to stop Burleigh at all hazards,
and at two in the morning the answer
catne that the major had reached Chey
enne about midnight and they would
search everywhere for him. This was
the last until long after the rising of
another sun. •
Events and excitements, alarms and
rumors followed each other with start
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MARCH 28, 1901.
ling rapidity during the day. In glar
ing headlines the local paper published
th« details of the massacre at the Clap,
lauding th>« valor and devotion of the
soldiers, but heaping abuse upon the
commander of the post, who, with
other troops at his disposal, had looked
on and lifted no hand to aid them.
Later, of c»urse, it was proved that the
veteran had foiled old Red Cloud's vil
lainous plan to lure the whole garrison
into the open country and there sur
round and slowly annihilate it, while
then, or at their leisure later, his
chosen ones should set tire to the un
protected stockade and bear off those
of the women or children whose years
did not commend them to the mercy
of the hatchet. Soldiers and thinking
men soon saw the colonel was right
and that the only mistake he had made
was in allowing any of the garrison to
go forth at all.. But this verdict was
not published, except long after as un
important news and in some obscure
corner. The Laramie column, so the
news ran, was hastening down the
Powder river to strike Red Cloud. The
Indians would be severely punished,
etc., etc. But old Folsom's face grew
whiter as he read that such orders had
been sent and that the general himself
was now at Laramie directing matters.
"In God's name," urged he, "if you have
any influence with the general, tell him
not to send a foot column chasing
horsemen anywhere, and above all not
to follow down the Powdei Next
thing you know Red Cloud and all his
young men will have slipped around
their flank and come galloping back to
the Platte, leaving the old men and
women and wornout ponies to make
tracks for the 'heap walks' to follow."
And Stevens listened dumbly. In
fluence he had never had. Folsom
'might be right, but it was a matter
in which he was powerless. When a
depot quartermaster, said he, could
dictate the policy that should govern
the command of a colonel of the fight
ing force, there was no use in remon
strance. Noon came and no news
from the Cheyenne sheriff. The com
manding officer at Russell wired that
he, too, was stripped of his troops,
and had not even a cavalry courier
to send after the general with the
startling news that Maj. Burleigh
had vanished with large sums, it was
believed, in his possession. At one
o'clock came tidings of the fugitive.
He, together with two other men, had
spent the late hours of the night at
the lodgings of one of the party in
Cheyenne, and at dawn had driven
away in a "rig" hired at a local
stable, ostensibly to follow the gen-
The major hastily withdrew.
eral to Laramie. They had kept the
road northwestward on leaving town
—were seen passing along the prairie
beyond Fort Russell, but deputies,
sworn in at once and sent in pur
suit, came back to say the rig had
never gone as far as Lodge Pole. At
six p. m. came further tidings. Lieut.
Loring, engineer officer of the de
partment, had reached Cheyenne and
was in consultation with the com
manding officer at Russell. The rig
had been found at Sloan's ranch, far
up Crow creek, where the party had
taken horses and ridden westward
into the Black Hills. In anticipation
of a big reward, the sheriff had dep
uties out in pursuit. From such in
formation as they could gather it was
learned that the name of one of the
parties gone with Burleigh was New
hall, who claimed to be a captain in
the army, "out there looking after in
vestments"—a captain who was too
busy, however, togo and see the few
fellows of his cloth at the new post
and who was not known to them by
sight at all. The engineer, Mr. Lor
ing, was making minute inquiries
about this fellow, for the description
given him had excited not a little of
his interest.
And so the sun of the second day
went down on Gate City and Emory,
and everybody knew Burleigh was
gone. The wildest rumors were
afloat, and while all Fort Emory was
in mourning over the tragedy at
Warrior Gap, everybody in town
seemed more vividly concerned in
Burleigh and the cause of his sud
den flight. As yet only certain army
officers and Mr. Folsom knew of the
startling discovery at the stockade
—that the package was a bogus affair
throughout. But all Gate City knew
Burleigh had drawn large sums from
the local bank, many citizens had
heard that John Folsom was several
thousand dollars the poorer for his
■udden going, and all interest was.
centered in the coming from Chicago
of an expert summoned by wire, to
open the huge office safe at the quar
termaster's depot. The keys had
gone with Burleigh. At the last
moment, after loading up with all
the cash his own private safe con
tained, for that was found open and
practically empty in its corner of
his sitting-room, and when he had
evidently gone to the office to get the
funds there stored, he was confound
ed by the sight of the two employes.
He could have ordered them to leave
and then helped himself, but con
science had made coward of liiin, even
more than nature, lie saw accusers
in every face, and fled. Burleigh ha 4
lost his nerve.
Two days went by anrt excitement
was at its height. All manner of evil
report of Burleigh was now afloat
The story vi the tragus package had
been noised abroad through later
messengers and dispatches from the
Gap. Lieut. Loring had come to Fort
Emory under the instructions of the
department commander, and what
those instructions were no man could
find out from the reticent young offi
cer. If ever a youth seemed capahlo
of hearing everything and telling
nothing it was this scientist of a dis
tinguished corps that frontiersmen
knew too little of. What puzzled Fol
som and old Pecksniff was the per
sistence with which he followed up
his inquiries about Capt. Newhall. He
even sought an interview with Pap
poose and asked her to describe the
rakish traveler who had so unfavor
ably impressed her. She was looking
her loveliest that evening. Jessie was
radiant once more. A long letter had
come from Marshall—sad because of
the fate that had befallen his com
panions, stern because of the evi
dence of the deep-laid plot that so
nearly made him a victim, but mod
estly glad of the official commenda
tion he had received, and rejoicing
over the surgeon's promise that he
i could be well enough to make the
march with a command ordered back
to Frayne. Red Cloud's people had
scattered far and wide, said he. "God
grant they may not turn back to the
south." He was coming home. He
would soon be there. The papers had
told their readers this very morning
that the general had plainly said his
force was too small to risk further
assault upon the Sioux. Alarmed at
the result of its policy, the bureau
had recommended immediate aban
donment of Warrior Gap and the
withdrawal of the troops from the Big
Horn country. The war department,
therefore, had to hold its hand. The
Indians had had by long, long
odds the best of the fight, and per
haps would be content to let well
enough alone. All this had tended to
bring hope to the hearts of most of
the girls, and Loring's welcome was
the more cordial because of this and
because of his now known champion
ship of Marshall's cause. From be
ing a fellow under the ban of suspi
cion and the cloud of official censure,
Marshall Dean was blossoming out as
a hero. It was late in the evening
when Folsom brought the young en
gineer from the hotel and found
Elinor and Jessie in the musicroom,
with Pecksniff's adjutant and Loomis
in devoted attendance. It was nearly
11 when the officers left—two re
turning to the fort, Loring lingering
for a word with Folsom at the gate.
The night was still and breathless.
The stars gleamed brilliantly aloft,
but the moon was young and had
early gone to bed. A window in the
third story softly opened, as the two
men stopped for their brief confer
ence—the one so young-looking, stur
dy and alert, despite the frost of so
many winters; the other so calm and
judicial, despite his youth.
[To Be Continued !
HUNTING OSTRICH NESTS.
Hidden Deep In (lie Desert Snnd
They Are Kxtremely Hard
to Find.
Although the skin of an ostrich is
worth from S4O to SIOO on the spot,
the hunter of the desert usually pre
fers to search for the eggs when he
has discovered an ostrich in flight. An
English traveler in the Sahara, Mr. H.
B. Tristram, describes this search, says
Youth's Companion.
"Once, and once only, T had the good
fortune to take an ostrich's nest, al
though fresh eggs were not infre
quently brought in by the Arabs. We
observed with our telescopes two
b'.rds standing for some time in the
same spo* and were induced to ride
toward them. Thej - rapidly scudded
off, but on intersecting their track we
turned back and retraced it instead of
continuing a vain, pursuit.
"An ostrich's track is by no means
easy either to follow or to retrace,
for his stride measures, when he is at
full speed, from 22 to 28 feet; and the
oblong impression of two toes at so
wide intervals affords no very evident
track to any eyes less expert than those
of a Bedouin huntsman.
"We retraced the impression to the
spot where we had seen the birds
standing together, and where the sand
was well trodden down. Two Arabs
at once dismounted and began to dig
with their hands, and presently they
brought up four fresh eggs from a
depth of about a foot under the warm
sand.
"Ostrich-egg omelet we always found
a most welcome addition to our desert
bill of fare, and a convenient and port
able provision, for from the thickness
of the shell the eggs keep perfectly
sweet and fresh for a fortnight or three
weeks."
New I.light on History.
Nero, fiddle in hand, sat upon his
throne when a little band of captives
was led before him.
"Now," he roared, in royal tones,
"you have your choice between hear
ing me play a study in cadenzas with
the middle finger on the E string, or
being burned alive at the matinee at
the Coliseum."
"Bring on your torches," shouted
the desperate captives.
Later on Nero fiddled, and burned
things, and conducted himself ir. an
outrageous manner.
"I hate to do this,"he explained,
"but they depend on me for some
warm scenes in 'Quo Vadis.'"—Balti
more American.
Very True,
Says an old bachelor: "Before tak
ing the leap through the wedding rin;
a man should be sure the net of conni'
bial bliss is properly stretched on th
other side." — Daily News.
AN IMPROVED GRANARY.
Cp-to-l)al« Storehouse for Cora
Which 1m Absolutely Safe from
i'.nt-rout'huiem ts by Vermin,
The dimensions of my granary—you
see 1 have got past the corn crib period
entirely—are as follows: Length,
sills, 18 feet; plates, 20 feet; width, 14
feet; total length of posts, 12 feet;
height of floor from the ground, 3>/ t
feet. These dimensions may vary, ac
cording to the amount of grain to lie
stored. Wide strips of tin shield the
tops of the posts from the invasion of
rats and mice.
Inside the plan is as follows: Corn
in the back part, the crib running
across the end, and on each side a row
of grain bins. These are arranged so
that the ends nearest the alley be
tween, which is four feet wide, may be
removed in case they are not needed.
These empty bins afford store room for
a corn sheller, or for bran or other
feed. A loose floor overhead also fur
nishes epaee for putting away many
articles which might otherwise be east
around anywhere. The inside is lined
with matched southern pine three
eighths thick. The outside is bat
tened, and the boards being surfaced
the whole is painted. The entire ex
pense of this granary was not far from
$75, and I have received the compli
ment that it is the best job I have
done in the way of building, and I have
spent a small fortune in that line. In
fact, it pleases me exactly. I never
have seen but two mice in this gran
ary, and those I carried in with empty
bags; and, as may be supposed, I was
on nettles until they had been found
and settled with. I got the cat as quick
as I could and entered upon the most
exciting hunt I ever took part in. It
beat the famous fox hunts of the city
folks who come out to kill time *ll
hollow. And I succeeded, which is
more than the city chaps who hunt
for the fun of the thing can often say.
In my granary I keep my corn
knives, corn ties and bags—every
thing, in fact, that concerns corn and
garden stuff. The satisfaction of
knowing that what I raise is now free
0 ' : r
llFlir
GRANARY AND CORN CRIB.
from the encroachments of vermin is
fully sufficient of itself to amply repay
all my trouble. But the return in dol
lars and cents far surpasses one's be
lief. If we could see the amount of
money which is wasted every year
through poor granaries all brought
together it would startle us. Every
farmer knows that he suffers serious
ly from year to year, but most of us
have come to take it as a matter of
course. But really it is one of the
leaks which help to sink the ship.—Ed
gar L. Vincent, in Farm and Fireside.
GRADE UP THE FLOCK.
Start Right by Getting a Good Itooit
er, One That Has Ileen Bred
It litlt t and Is It Ik lit.
Have you got that strong, vigorous
cockerel to grade up your flock, to in
crease the egg yield and build up the
size of the birds you sell to market?
It is quite time the bird was in the
breeding pen,becoming acquainted with
his mates and preparing for the
spring's duties.
It is an old and familiar axiom that
the male is half the pen. He may be
mated to a dozen females, hence the
chicks have any one of a dozen moth
ers, but he is the father of all and im
parts his vigor and personality to all
the chicks.
Not only shoilld this head of the
family be a pure-bred male, but he
should be a bird of real merit, bred
with care and for a purpose. Such a
bird has the power to reproduce him
self and will certainly improve next
season's flock. A well-bred cockerel,
one bred from meat producing and egg
laying ancestry, will decidedVy im
prove the laying qualities of the pullets
and increase the size as well.
It is a common mistake to breed from
anything left over from the holiday
killings, because nothing else is at
hand. Don't repeat that mistake this
year. Start right by getting a good
male bird, one that has been bred right
and is right; and his cost will be re
turned to you many times over in the
laying vigor of his pullets and in
creased size of the chickens marketed.
Get a pure-bred male for this year's
breeding; get him now.—Practical
Farmer.
OH Cake for Old Hens.
For invigorating a lot of old hens
which are slow in responding to the
sfforts to make them produce winter
eggs, we ltnow of nothing better than a
spoonful of oilwtke meal three times a
week. If the hens in the meantime
have not been overfed with grain a
change in their appearance and actions
will be noticeable within a week. There
will be an added liveliness of motion, a
more erect carriage and a general ap
pearance of thriftiness which will
presage a coming harvest of eggs. Otli
»r things being about, right, this will
seldom fail to bring the sluggish old
hen* to times. —Fiu-mars' Voice.
FARMING IN WESTERN CANADA
The Great Natural Fertility of the Soil
in Manitoba, Assiniboia, Sas
katchewan arid Alberta.
What I las Ileen Dune by Premier
Cireeuway, Iflmn-elf a Leading;
Farmer,
lion. Thomas Greenway, Premier
of the Province of Manitoba, one of
the foremost farmers of Western
Canada, writes an excellent article to
the press, from which the following
extracts are made:
The writer came to Manitoba from
Ontario in the autumn of 1878, and
lias ever since been engaged in ag
ricultural pursuits. From the day,
nearly 22 years ago, when he select
ed his homestead, he has had un
bounded faith in the country as a
place where farming can be success
fully carried on, if pursued upon
proper lines. There is a large num
ber in this Province who should rath
er be called "wheat-growers" than
farmers. On account of the facil
ities, natural advantages, and there
fore cheapness with which wheat can
be grown, no doubt many have done
exceedingly well by raising wheat
only; still, it is far from ideal farm
ing. Not only will such a course, if
parsisted in.have the effect of caus
ing the land to run out, as has been
the experience of those who pursued
the same plan in the wheat-produc
ing prairie States to the south of us,
but it is far from being the most
profitable course to adopt.
This fact is already being demon
strated in Manitoba. Let the farms
in this Vtestern country be managed
upon the lines which were successful
in the Eastern Provinces, and much
more can be done here in a given
time than was ever done in the East.
The probabilities of failure are prac
tically nil. Upon the farm there
should be found horses, cattle, sheep,
hogs and poultry, according to the
ability of the farmer—with respect
to his means and the extent of his
holding. The wanton waste which
has hitherto been practiced by many
farmers, that of burning vast quan
tities of excellent fodder after
threshing is done, should cease; it
should all be used upon the farm
and converted into the old, sensible
kind of fertilizer manure, and after
wards be returned to the soil, so
that what has been taken from it
by the crop may be restored. Al
though admitting that the great nat
ural fertility of the soil in Manitoba
and the success that has attended the
growing of wheat for years upon the
same land have a tendency to make
such a course as the one mentioned
tempting, yet, if continued, wheat
growing upon the same land year
after year is undoubtedly a mistake.
The writer knows of no country that
offern advantages so great to the ag
riculturist as does Manitoba. The
vraious branchds of farming can be
parried on successfully, as twenty
two years of practical operations and
observations of what others are do
ing have proven. To those desiring
to make new homes for themselves,
the low price of some of the best
lands in the world (although rapidly
advancing in price this year) offer
still great opportunities. To all such
the invitation is cordially given to
"Come and See." There need be no
poor people here. There is land for
all who choose to come, land upon
which happy homes can be estab
lished, and from which ample re
sources can be gathered against old
age. All that a man needs to achieve
competence in this domain is com
mon-sense and industry. With these
qualifications he is bound to succeed.
For information regarding free
homestead lands, apply to any agent
of the government whose advertise
ment appears elsewhere in these col
umns.
Chenp Rates to California.
February 12th and each Tuesday there
after, until and including April 30th, Special
Low Rate Colonist Tickets will be sold via
the Southern Pacific's Company's "Ogden"
and "Sunset" Routes to all points in Califor
nia. The rate will be: From Chicago
$30.00, from St. Louis, Memphis and New
Orleans $27.50, from Omaha, Kansas City,
etc., $25.00. Corresponding low rates from
all other points east and north.
For particulars and detailed information
pertaining to the Southern Pacific Com
pany's Routes, and these special rates to Cal
ifornia, call upon or address
W. G. Neimyer, G. W. A., S. P. Co., 238
Clark St., Chicago, 111.
W. 11. Connor, C. A., S. P. Co., Chamber
of Commerce B!dg., Cincinnati, Ohio.
G. G. Herring, C. A., S. P. Co., 711 Park
Bldg., Pittsburg, Pa.
L. E. Townsley, C. A., S. P. Co., 421 Oiive
St., St. Louis, Mo.
('. C. Gary, C. A., S. P. Co., 208 Sheidley
Bidg., Kansas City, Mo.
Pride is the fog that surrounds insignifi
cance.—Chicago Daily News.
I'roof of the I'uddiits.
Ten hours between New York and Buf
falo means excellent travelling and w4ien
1 say I travelled at the rate ot sixty milea
an hour, gathered no dirt, and was not
bothered with dust, you can believe me
when I say my steel graj: travelling cos
tume was as clean when I stepped off at
Buffalo as when I said "Au Revoir" at Ho
boken.
The Lackawanna is a route worthy of the
attention of all who wish to travel in lux
ury, in absolute cleanliness, and in security.
The "proof of the pudding is in the eat
ing," and the Lackawanna Limited will be
a favorite train with ladies visiting the Pan-
American Exposition.—Marie Jarboe, in
Toilettes.
Many a man is toasted who needs to be
roasted. —Atchison < ilobe.
Try Graln-Ot Try Grnln-O!
Ask your grocer to-day to show you a pack
age of GRAIN-O, the new food drink that
takes the place of coffee. The children may
drink it without injury as well as the adult.
All who try it, like it. GRAIN-O has that
rich seal brown of Mocha or Java, but it is
made from pure grains, and the most dedicate
stomach raceives it without distress. the
price of coffee. 15c. and 25cts. per package.
Sold by all grocers.
A dog'a tail is something of a wag.—Chi
cago Daily News.
Snvf tlic Ilnby
When suffering from Croup, Coughs, Colda
and Bronchitis byusingHoxsie'sCoughCure
promptly. No opium. No nausea. SO cbi.