v'OL- xxxviii HUSELTON'S Popular-Priced Spring Shoes The urea test assortment of Stylish Footw ear evi r placed before the people of ntler ccunty. The perfect embodiment of fashion and service, at cur own uncotnparable prices. Our Eighty-cent and Dollar Shoes I-'or men a- <1 women, for boys aud girls form a wonderiul feature of our great showing, and we claim things for them. Thousands of pairs have been put to the tc-t. We have yet to hear of a cotnpi-iiat. You mc.'t with such values only at HUSELTON'S. At $1.50. J'?.oo and #2.50, Men's and Women's Oxfords,: Mens and Women's Lines, 7jcl%tw|lsoi}!feso . almost furp.t's our own ideas. These fa 50. Black and Tail. A range of popular slices are designed and built style and price beyond the reach of or espcciallv f< r this store. Vici Kid, Box diaary shoe stocks; snappy extension Calf, I'atent Leather, Russia Calf, gen- edges, rop<: and cross stitched, low broad uine McK- • K E 0 K Spring Styles O IU« • iwuincin »lK»ut them that Jjj A I fi 7\ // marks th« wearer, it won't do tj 'Vy AJ r r\«\ / I t\ wear the last veow is >ocr time UJ JJ* A GREAT AT HAMILTON'S, j i Fine Oak or Walnut Org .ns at S3O lo Sii3. Splendid Hamilton Or.j..i;s, 9 ar.J il S4O to 545. Magnificent Hamilton Organs, 9 to II [ iips, SSO to SSO. Bea ful ESTEY ORGANS from $35 1 . 3. HAMILTON PIANOS, I * \-ial dr.vc on about V) elegant styles. To ckift- ota this lot we have cu prices in half—yr.tir choice from su« 0 to 1250. A. B, CHASE PIANOS. T'ie Matchless A. B. Clu »c Pianos. Ci ']iit!.tioii»Uj the fiiu.-t riau«» in tho woikl. About 2. r > ol last full's style of CtSOS At ALMOST COST. If you would Mtve HOO to JIM ou a En. Piano, write at once to HAMILTON'S. Every instrument guaranteed fully. Call or write for Priors and Catalogues to S. HAMILTON, 335-7 Fifth Avenus, Pittsburg. ylleOuretfeaf Sures J Giiilghs,S \ Ooitis, /! p Grippe, (k w. Whooping C:yj.-*h, Afthm?., J ;A Bronchitis and Incipient P> Congumotlon, Is f oWFt£r, § The GERMAN REMEDY' » r W.a &\s%ases. / M a\\ tawyinta. 25fl^5Dti$ CATARRH LOCAL* DISEASE and is the result of coldr nnd r»f rCOLD* sudden climatic changes. For your Protection JWfEVIu (jjc AT | Johnston's p H Crystal Y. H Pharmacy. k< Fi K. M. IXHJAN. I'll. G.. Manager, f J lPt; N. Main St., Butler, I'a Both 'Phones. LJLJ TK£ YORK CLIPPER Contains a Reliable Reoord •a of all tho Evonta In tho THEATRICAL WORLD .{ AND THB WORLD OF SPORTS. PUBLISHED WEEKLY. 64.00 A YEAR. SINCLE COPY, lOcts. For Sale by all Newsdealers. SAMPLE COPY FREE, Address NEW YORK CLIPPER, NEW YORK. \\ r M. 11. MILLER. FIRE and LIFE; INSURANCE and REAL ESTATE. Office —Next door to CITIZEN oflioe, Butler, Pa. BUTLER, THURSDAY, MAY 30, 1001 gOo 000000000000cOOocOOooOg I OLD STONER'S GIRL I o O ——— o 8 How She Became a 8 Happy Woman. i 8 § : § liy HOWARD SHERIX. o SoooOOocOOoooOooGOocoOoocb The story properly begins at mie!- [ Bight on the San Luis Obispo coast. California. 20 years ago, when the Sep tember moonlight shone down upon Stoner's cattle ranch, near the Pacific Ofean, in the rupgeel Santa Lucia mountains. Stoner had been a Texas ranger aud could hold his own extremely well in that rough frontier community, lie had carried off a pretty Spanish wife from the Chiliuaboa region years be ' fore, had brought her to the rocky California coast and had purchased a settler's claim and an old adobe house built by a Spanish hidalgo half a century ago. Ilere he farmed, raised cattle on the unused government lands and kept a sort of hotel, for several mountain trails joiti-d at that point the broad highway which led from the county seat. 2u miles south, to the northern settlements in the pineries. He had five daughters, too. the youngest, Ther esa, known as Tessa, a jrirl of 17. That added to the attraction, and almost every night tin- dark eyed half Span ish nirls sang and danced, and old Stoner managed to bear all the news that was afloat, anil somehow most of the loose coin of tln> region ultimately found its way Into his pockets, lie was a deep one, that same Ephraim Stoner, quiet, sly and patient, secret in his methods and deadly in his blow. Stoner's wife and his four eldest daughters were uneducated and in complete subjection to his will. Hut Tessa had more brains and energy than all the rest put together and quite as much beauty, and so the old Texan ranger took a certain pride in her and had even allowed her to attend a dis trict school for two years. This midnight when, as I have said, the story begins a person of a prying disposition might have discovered sev eral interesting performances in prog ress around the Stoner abode. On tho north side of the house Tessa was lean ing from her window conversing in low tones with a blond, fair hnirtnl and Sturdy young man on horseback. "Tom, do you know my father? He is not the careless, warm hearted man you may suppose. I must admire his ability, but that Is all. I warn you. Tom, there never was a more danger ous man. He.may be where he hears every word you say, though if he is he will not speak to you or me about It. Rut if he knew you cared for me he would be your enemy. He has other plans for me. He wants me to marry for money." Tom Warren had once been the schoolteacher in the mountain district, miles away, where Tessa had been one of his pupils. Thrown upon his own resources from his childhood, he had developed a strong, earnest character and was already so popular in the county tluu he had just been elected sheriff, though the youngest man on the ticket. While Tessa and her lover were talk ing a scene of a different nature was being enacted on the south side of the old adobe, which overlooked a deep ra vine and a cauip of five or Six men in a field below. For several years these men had siient their summers there, ostensibly hunting, fishing and explor ing the country with thrir dogs and guns. Every one knew them, and most persons liked them. Tessa did not. Stoner, though it was midnight, sat In the moonlight on an old rawhide chair outside the door smoking his pipe and meditating a tough, sinewy, griz zled night owl of a man. "That infernal knuckleliead at the camp ought to have reported before now," lie thought to himself as he smoked. A man came out of the brush and •noke deferentially. """'>i, rrood eveulnjr '' "You're late." "Dick was shot." "WelF:" "Just as the driver throwed off the IHIX. Shot by n passenger in the neck and shoulder." »"llc mustn't stay here to get us into trouble. Take a boat and carry him to the point and leave him in the ca'e there." "Yes, eap'n." "llow much aboard?" "About SI\IHK) for the Josephine min ers." "Send it over the cliff before morn in.ir, and I'll divide it up soon. But you be extra careful—that new sheriff In a smart one." "All right, cap'n. "And the man went back to camp. A moment later, just as Stoner was going into the house, there was a low thud of horse's hoofs, and Tom Warren, the young sheriff, rode down the trail around the corner of the lid adobe building into the country road that led to the west. He had at last yielded to Tessa's entreaties to "(Jo, go, this minute, Tom." Impassive as Stouer was he felt a little startled by the sight. "Where in the devil did you come from, sheriff? Anything up In this part of the country?" "Oh. no, not a particle. I've been visiting my old school in the moun tains and took the trail home down Cayucns." This was plausible enough, for there was a blind trail that entered the can yon Just cast of the angle of the house. Stoner felt a little relieved. "Won't you put up and stay with us all night V '"No, Mr Stoner; 1 must go lown to Keslrnl to sec my Wends there. It's only an hour's ride." "That settles It,* thought Stoner. "Plenty of stout fellows to use as sher iff's deputies there. He has probably stumbled on traces and is going for help." He sat and smoked and slipped i«i•! i o"(i back under his eoat. "Easy u, . be said to himself. "Well, goodby, Stoner," said Warren suddenly. ■ 1 upp« -e the bran h road is us good a ; ever'/" "1 'eri'eei 1 y ;tfe, only when you cross Toro ei-. 1; : pon the sand bar. It's as hard as iron. I crossed there today." "Thank you. Adios." Simple, smiling speech, those words i.. «*r. and yet they were intended to send \\ ;. : to iiis death uiore sure ly and s.-ifi ly than by bullet of pistol or pellet of secret poison. Stoner to ; an extra swig of brandy and went to Ids rest. Warren rode d iwn the n:' d hill to the bottom of the ravine, then turned seaward, and at last the v. Ide gulch opened broadly to the shore of the l'acltie. The elitTs were from 50 to 300 feet high and full of wave worn eaves. War j rcn drew rein on the beach :uid for ! fully ten miontefl Wltebtd the ocean j sway and rise. His thoughts throbbed I with dreams of Tessa, lie would lake I her away from her narrow and hurtful surroundings. He would force Stoner's consent, marry her and make lier happy. He rode rapidly s uth. and in half an hour the inotKli <* i.» Toro appeared in the midst of sand dimes, breakers roll ing in and the steady river rolling out. Here was the long sand liar, ten feet wide and stretching across hardly an inch higher than the water surface. Warren was beginning to have some suspicions of Stoner. but not such as to lead him to doubt the simple directions he had received. The sand bar looked safe, but within a few days the si a. as Stoner knew, had swept it mightily, torn out the long compacted bar and placed instead a quivering mass of quicksand so treacherous that not even a light footed rabbit could ci./ss with out being swallow* d up and dragged bodily down. Wsrrcn rode swiftly for ward. lie had crossed sand bars hun dreds tif times. Some liorsis would have I wen wiser, bi-1 tli ■ animal ho rode had l:cen bred in tin valley. The app • acli to the i ar was bard for aft w roil and he gailope.l on. Sud der ly. in < L :; il r, .iking, breathless descent, '.oiseiess but unutterably dreadful. Tom Warren's In r ■ went d wo. down, and the soft. .limy saad came up t: his mane. lie shriek' l i lit that gh. : i\ e: . of a; : ::l and agony tba; adi •. .>: •. dyinr t, :se will some times utur. Tom knew the perit. lie laid dr ! his feet from 11 ■' stirrups and l' ' them up at the !':• ' .:-,l t: but the sand be; . ;■> gr::b at bii:i . o. He threw hint-elf flat o-t ls!« brea i and tore iiii . I Io- • .1 e | r ::-il- UIJ'.I. OVI r■< SO 1;• • • iiilll *-'■ d >•;: id and v,: : i \v. :, i as It roiled from .•■ do to side in IneiVit ieal strug gli s to escape. Tom spread hi •self out over as much surface- ai-'p ii i;-. !>fti lov iy. Tv: •-t --tttsly. t he laigli'y f- re* drew him dowu waril. The hard I < ticli was only ten feet dis-:::it. but practically the chasm was impassable. !ic felt 'his horse sink out of siiriit. The sand grippal his own knees and arms, his thighs and shoulders. Two inches more, ami the end by suffocation was inevitable. I'p to this time he had not shouted; only his horse's wild d< ath scream had told of the tragedy. What was the use? Who would i e passing along that lone ly road? Then he thought of Tessa and of life. He raised his voice in a clear, strong shout for help, again and again repeated. Far off along the deep ravine there came a cry iu response and a horse's hurrying feet, and hope awoke in his heart. The margin of life was fivo minutes now not longer. Faster, fast er. oh. fearless rider! "Tom, where are you?" "Here. Tessa. Don't come too near." But the motiufain girl knew the dan ger. Creeping down stairs for a drink of water, she had beard her father's words to Warren, had thrown a shawl about her shoulders and run to the pasture. There she caught her pet horse, sprang upon his unsaddled back, seized a riatta as she passed the stable and gall< pod at the utmost speed down tho ravine, hoping against hope, for many minutes I ::d necessarily elapsed since Warren started. SI:o sprang to the ground and tossed the rawhide rope to tlie one arm he hold above the sand. She folded lior shawl and put it over her horse's shoulders and tied the riatta round like a collar. Then she led him slowly away from the quicksands, nnd War ren thought ills arm would break, but slowly, reluctantly, painfully, the sand gave up ils prey. "Your father told me to take this road. Tessa," said the young sheriff. "Yes. I know that, and I hoard one of the men tell him today that the bur was swept out." There was a long silence between them. "Tessa, go with me to San Luis," laid Warren, "aud let us get married." And Tessa went. Old Stoner heard the news a few days later. Within an hour he had "retired from business." The camp was broken tip. the hunters disappear ed, mysterious lights flashed at inter vals all night from the ]>oints of the cliff, and the 1 u*\t day old Stoner him self disappeared, leaving his family, the ranch and the live stock. It was saM that he made the best of his way * and finally to Souiii »v '"—-e as yet, and lea. The worm i» ....... men who have money can ramble ovei a good deal of it without finding a past they wish to escape from. But Tessa lives ill her San Luis Obispo cot tage. with orange trees over it and La Marque roses on the porch, and she thinks herself the happiest woman In California. Waste. Real and Eierclae. William M. Evarts was a marvel of Intellectual vitality to an advanced age, and be used to explain it by say lug that lie slept late in the morning and never took any exercise. There is no advantage in getting up early in the morning if you need the sleep. Many a man is burning the candle at both ends by getting up at an enrly hour simply because his housekeeping Is adjusted to that programme. As to physical exercise. Mr. Evarts bad dis covered for himself what our physiolo gists arc now beginning to teacli namely, that If a man consumes tissue In hard Intellectual work the way to repair the loss Js by resting and not by consuming more tissue in physical exercise. To tbe majority of brain workers oxygenizatloii of the blootl is far more important than physical exer cise, aud there are two ver„ „ood ways to secure that: Sleep with your bed room window wide open In summer nnd winter, nnd, if you can afTord It. keep a horse and drive In the open air. —Boston Watchman. Trouble With a Teleneope. Continued observation with the tele scope of the Yerkes observatory re vealed the unpleasant existence of a number of curious streaks of light run ning horizontally, whoso appearance had certainly never been noticed be fore anil gave rise to redoubled un easiness. And yet everything seemed right with the glass viewed externally and the most searching investigation could discover no cause. At hist in desperation the eyepiece end was unscrewed, and Professor Ellorman. the slimmest of the party, was bidden to crawl, as he well could do, along in the tube itself, and see if he could diet-over aught amiss. He crept aloiu; well enough, so wide is tin* tube, till be got beyond the center, when the telescope began to turn over with ills weight and lie would have slid down on the top of the glass had not the other end been promptly seized and held fast. Then he continued his journey, and in another moment had discovered the unsuspected author of the mischief, an overindustrious spider and her equally hardworking progeny, who had succeeded In filling up the entire end of the tube with a mass of cobwebs in the hope of catching what must have been wholly Imaginary flies. The webs and their spldors were care fully removed, and from that day to ! this the behavior of the Yerkes 40 Inch glass has been all that heart could de , sire.—Good Words. t. REVERIES OF A BACHELOR. treasure dear of the days a* on# Are these which I cherlah now? What lovca they tell of the withered p—l» Of «:acy a careless vow! A cutlinp lock from a giddy head That prisons a glint of cr^ld; It had a place in my heart until ' The love in my heart grew cold. A slipper mold of her pretty foot, A dainty affair of pink; It tripped • liirht in the old-n days That lie behind, link by link. Tho scarlet strand of a ribbon worn And fsded by pacing time; It glowr l so warm at her snow white throst Wben life was a joyous rhyme. A kerchief daintily edged in lace, A bit of * spotless thing; What subtle sense of a dying love Its delicate odors bring! W!:.it trrasures dear of the days agone Are tlir«e which I cherish now! What 1 >vcs they tell of the withered past. Of many a careless vow! —Ohio State Journal. t The Case of ** J I j eued Burton. | ♦ i t BY M. QUAD. I * * <> t * Copyright, 1901, by C. B. Lews, f * v . . 4'- V ■ *• <• .. C On the l Uli day of Septer..bor, ISU7, Jared BUM m, a .-'ingle man of 30, liv ing iu a village in lowa, started l>y rail road for a town Ut) miles distant, and he has net returned to his home and relatives since. lie w:. ■ a man in more i ban comfortable circumstances, and his mcther and siste.- lived with him. Boy and man, he had liv»d in the vil lage for 1M years when he set out that day on a business matter. When sev eral days laid passed without his re turn or word from him. inquiries were made. Ho had arrived at the town ail right, transacted his business and tlieji taken ii train on another road. It was thought he bad gone away In"the com pany cf a stranger, but no < no could be sure of this. After ten days and stiil no word he was advertised, for. and di toetivi s were employed to bunt him up. The search was not given up for three months, and then it was believed that lie was dead. A year had gone by and the mystery was still unsolved when one day Jared Burton returned that is, he said lie was Jared" Burton, and the question of whether he was or not brings out tills story. On leaving the train he met Squire Danforth and shook hands ••Tflia 19 NOT J A ICED BI'KTON." with him and asked after the mother and sister. Farther up the street he jnot n village merchant and shook hands nnd laughingly said that he had been east in search of a wife. He walked to his house, entered and called to the family and kissed mother and sister aud apologized for having wor ried them as be had. He had the age, height, look and voice of Jared. and at first tho women accepted him as such. The story he told was a queer one. He had gone to look at a lead mine with a view of buying, and during the short time he was left alone he had tumbled down a:i old shaft. He knew no more nfter that until he suddenly came to himself one day in a town in Kansas and found himself a tratup. The fall had produced concussion of the brain, and, though treated by doc tors, ho had lost his memory nnd his identity and only recovered bis wits when .1 constable banged his head ""iinst a door in Resting him.* He * r*i friend# and his story. been assisted to reach his home. The story passed all right with the women for a day or two, but as it got around the village anil was discussed pro and con they began to doubt. Of the five doctors in town four declared the thing impossible. Of the 1,500 inhabitants liot more than ten were satisfied of the truth of the story. The matter spread until two or three coun ties wore interested and a dozen news papers were discussing it, and first and lHst a good many people h.nl their say about it. Tbe first idea, of course, was to test this Jared Burton's memory about the events of his life. It was a great point in his favor that he had recognized two or three citizens at the moment of his arrival anil that later on be had met dozens of others and made l>o mistake except in one Instance, lie lad seemed thoroughly familiar with (he house and with certain business matters, and while he did not write as free a baud as formerly it passed for Jared's chirography. He bad with him tbe key of bis desk; bo asked after certain clothing lie had left; lie casual ly recalled various incidents, and he had settled down as the long lost re turned when he learned that his iden tity was questioned. He promptly de j maiulod the fullest and closest investi gation, and the doubters wore ready to make it. In his boyhood days Jared Burton had received a burn on the foot, leav ing a bad scar. This man exhibited the scar. .Tared Burton had been bitten on the calf of the leg by a dog. Here was tbe scar of the bite. He bad once been near death by drowning. This man told of the incident. He had been In Chicago with his uncle for a week; he had fallen oft the roof of a barn; he had been on a jury in a lawsuit; lie had been robbed by a man on the highway. All these things were told over without a mistake, together with hundreds of other Incidents. It was a public inves tigation. with everybody free to ask questions, and it lasted four days. There were still some who carped after it was closed, but there was a complete Change of popular opinion, and Jared Burton was complimented on all sides. The mother and sister fully accepted him, and he settled down into his place unquestioned. Three months bad gone by, nnd the talk and wonder had all died out when a blind man came along one day. He was known in various vil lages as "Old Hanson." He sang songs, told fortunes and performed tricks ami was well liked. Standing on the public square with a crowd around I him, he sang songs and then asked if I Jared Burton was among the spocta ! tors. Jared stepped forward, and the I old man took liliri by the band. It was ! his boast that, having once heard a | man's voire iftd shaken hands with j him, he could forever after Identify I him by the feel of liis palm. "This Is not Jared Burton!" be ex claimed as he lit the hand fall. "But il is." chorused a dozen voices. "But 1 say it is nut. It is not his hand. 1 nevi r met this hand before." "You will believe it is Jared Burton when I tell you so, won't you?" asked .Tared. "So. You cannot deceive me on tho palm. You are a stranger to me." There had been an investigation and an acquittal, but yet the blind man's words set people to thinking, especially as Jared himself seemed to lie greatly put out. The whole question would have been reopened again but that he started off for Chicago next day on what he claimed was a matter of busi ness. He had a close shave of It. He hadn't boon gone two hours when a sheriff from a distant county came to arrest him as one of a gang of land stealers aud counterfeiters. He was followed, but not overhauled, nis real name was Charles Wright. As to what became of the true Jared Burton no one can say. but he doubtless met his death in some way through falling into the hands of the gang. He bad papers with him. but how they got him to talk and give the incidents of his life can not be understood. It was a curious thing tlint another man should so close ly resemble him and should boar tho same scars, but It was a fact not to be gof over. The blind man nnd the sher iff declared the man to be a cheeky Im postor, and the latter furbished plenty of proofs, but the question has not been settled yet and perhaps never will be. I passed a day in tho village not long ago. and I found the people about even ly divided as to whether the true Jnred had not actually returned nnd boon driven off again. Gut «»i> here** Achievement. In The Century Augustine Birreil thus characterizes Gutenberg's epoch making invention; The invention of movable types was the greatest distributive invention that ever was or probably ever can be made. It circulated knowledge among the children of men and plays much the same part in human life as does the transmission of force in the world of physics. It was marvelous how quick ly thought was circulated even in the age of manuscripts. A book like St. Augustine's "City of God" was soon copied thousands of times and trav eled nil through Europe nfter a quicker fashion than most printed books can today reasonably hope to do, but St. Augustine occupied a unique position, and hand copying, though a great trade, employing thousands of scribes, could never have fed the new learning or kept alive the reformation. The ago of Gutenberg was an age of Ideas and demanded books, Just as our day is a day of mechanics and demands cheap motion, telegraphy and telephones. Gu tenberg's first printing office is marked by a tablet. Go and gaze upon it and think of the New York Herald, the London Times and tbe R'ble for two pence. The Horxe He nouKht, Higgins is troubled with «u over weening curiosity about other people's affairs. Occasionally he gets taken down, however. Ik? met Smitliers in a car; he does not know Smitliers very well, but he "tne boy's" him as if he were a lifeloug friend. "Busy, eh?" he Inquired at once. "Yes," said Smitliers deliberately; "been looking after a horse for my wife." "Have, eh? Well, let me look over him for you." "Oh, I've bought him." "Not without trying him? Was he sound?" "Ho appeared ft) be." "Doesn't shy?" "No, certainly not," "Good mouth?" "Y-e-s, I think so." "Good manners?" But here Smitliers arrived at hta Itreet. When the reached the door, he tailed back to Jliggins; "I neglected to mention the kind of horse my wife wanted. It was a clotheshorse." Dreadful Dream. Bobbs—Old Titewadd is about dead front insomnia. Says be fa afraid to go to sleep. Dobbs— Does he fear burglars? Bobbs—No, but tbe last time he slept he dreamed of giving away money.— Baltimore American. , Not Quite at Spoage. I- a sponge. "Oli. no! Wben a sponge absorbs anything, by squeezing It you can get It again."— Detroit Free Presa. Looking Without Beeln*. Perhaps you are an exception to the rule, but If you are not you have prob ably on many occasions, just after look ing at your watch, been forced to ac knowledge to a friend who asked you the time that you did not know what It was. Yet you undoubtedly took your timepiece out of your pocket, looked at its face and carefully replaced It In your pocket, showing u logical se quence of thought and a well defined (übject, which did not, however, result in leaving a sufficiently distinct Im pression on your nilnd to satisfy your friend's curiosity as to the hour of the day. The motion was not an involun tary one, that of tho boy who can not too often admire bis first chronom eter, nor yet habitual, for few persons are merely in the habit of taking out their watches. One does so only for n specific purpose. Now, how may this seeming contra diction be accounted for? Perhaps the reason is that not once in ten times does a man look at his watch to see what tlie actual time is, but rather to learn whether he still has time to ac complish some purpose. He may waut to keep an appointment at a certain time or to be sure not to miss a boat or train. When he takes out his watch, therefore, he Instinctively looks for the hands iu the position called for by that particular moment, and when he sees that they have not yet reached that point be returns the watch to its resting place, with bis mind relieved. The actual position of the hands real ly plays no part at all In tlie opera tion, and so when the time Is asked of hi in lie is unable to reply. In other words, he accomplishes the paradoxical feat of Intently looking at a thing with out really seeing it. Lopped It Oflf. Towne—Has lie sent you a check for your services? Browne —Yes, but it Isn't for the amount I expected, although I sent him a bill. Towne—Your writing's bad. Maybe he didn't decipher the amount. Browne —I'm afraid he did de-cipher It. I wrote SIOO very plainly, and he sent $lO. —Philadelphia Press. The Triiil, Foreeil Home. "I'm afraid," she sighed, "that I ni getting old." "Why?" be asked. "When I go to the grocery now. the clerks don't nearly break their necks trying to beat one another in getting inv orders." —Chicago '1 iuies-lleraid. tWMSQWtfI THE SEED BED. Mnke It I!nrly For I.ate Vfgetablcs. Fanioui Grouem Do This. Contrary to general custom. the seed boil for late plants should bo made as FOOU as the soil eau IK* worked to good advantage, according to- advice of American Agriculturist. Lot the soil be worked uutil it is as tine as the har row or rake can make it. Theu roll until the surface is perfectly smooth, after which cover to the depth of three inches with coarse stable manure. This should be left on uutil it is time to sow the seed, n hen it should be care fully raked off, avoiding breaking the surface of the soil. Make shallow trenches for the seed. Sow thinly and cover the seed with tine sand to the depth of one-fourth of an inch. This is the custom of t lie best seed growers ou Long Island and is one of the greatest importance, as the mulch will uot only keep the soil moist, but the moist, warm air from below will completely pulverize the small lumps, leaving the soil in best possible condi tion for plant growth. No matter how dry the season may be the soil will re tain sufficient moisture to carry ou the young plants uutil they are suffi ciently large for transplanting. The importance of preparing the seed bed lu this manner cannot be overesti mated. It is utterly impossible to se cure a good crop of either cabbage or cauliflower without good plants, and this method, barring accident from insect enemies, will always secure strong, healthy plants. This was prov ed conclusively last year when those who prepared their 'seed beds In the usual way lost heavily, both in the quantity and quality of their plants, while those who prepared their seed beds as recommended were invariably successful. GETTING QUICK GROWTH. Tomato l'lnnt* Thnt Start Right OS From the Ilonr of Sett inn. A New Jersey man's method of han dling tomato plants from seed sown in hotbeds the last week lu February Is: Air freely and do not let them get more than four inches high by April 1 (and half that height is sufficient if you are going to transplant twice), when it will 1)0 time to transplant to the cold TOMATO PLANTS ALL tiEAOV FOR SETTING. frames. Shado lightly for a few days after transplanting if sun is bright and air as much as weather will permit, taking sashes off as mentioned. Make waterings as near nature as possible. Trim to let in sunlight, but as sparing ly as possible, all this done with judg ment. By May 10 you will have plants thnt will do their best In the field If natural conditions are fairly good. The llgure shows well grown plants ready for setting. Commenting upon this man's plan, Hurai New Yorkor says: Water is very necessary for the plant babiea. In tak ing them out the sol) was cut Into squares with a sharp knife, and then the squtuva were lifted out on a fork, as shown In the picture. When finally set In the ground, these squares were cut again, so that each plant had Its little block of soil. When this Is set In a hill and the earth packed up around it, the plant baroration from the surface and exhaust the moisture from below. A wide diversity of climate may be found between the dense shade and the more open spots. Where vacancies oc cur torn and squash did well. Lettuce grew uieely where too shady; for other crops. Beans and peas take kindly to partial shade. Througff a period of ten years I have found the sl:ade of apple trees an ideal place to grow the Cuthbert raspberry. A little more moisture is needed, perhaps, but the vines seem to come through with out winter killing. A like experience with the Agawnm blackberry has not proved so favorable. A blight of the leaves has resulted In the fruit taking on a tasteless flavor when ripening. This variety I should plant on elevated laud, with full exposure to sun and winds. THE FARM HENS. A Good Number For the Ordinary Farmer to Keep—A General Ration. From 100 to 150 hens should not overtax the resources or energy of the ordinary farmer. If he has help from wife and family, as many have, a greater number may be profitably kept. But it is not desirable under any cir cumstance to have more hens than con receive the care and attention so neces sary for success. With judicious man agement and treatment of his stock and proper sale of their products In eggs and chickens each hen should yield a profit of $1 to $1.50 per year over and above expenses of feed, which to a farmer should not be more than 75 cents per head for the Bame time. As a winter ration calculated to ex cite fowls to egg laying a ration very successfully used by an Ohio poultry man is: Morning.—Equal parts of bran, wheat- middlings, chopped corn and oats, with some fine beef meal mixed In and the whole made Into mash. Noon.—Wheat was thrown into the litter on the floor of the scratching shed to keep hens busy. Evening.—Whole corn. From April 1 to Nov. 1 the same was * fed, except that the morning mash was mixed with cold water, and wheat was given Instead of corn. The greatest of cleanliness was observed. For the Little Pl(i, A concentrated* food containing a large per cent of indigestible woody fiber like bran Is not suitable for young <)lgs, and they will not thrive on it or a mixture of it half and half with some more digestible concentrate until they have reached the age of 4 or 5 months. Tho harsh woody husk of wheat Is Irritating to the stomach, causing Indigestion which finally re sults in scours, one of the worst of young pig diseases. Any food that contains a large per cent of Indigesti ble matter should be rejected as a plj/ food' during the first months of the pig's existence. While they are stilt with their mothers and for a time aft c-rward a good quality of shorts or middliugs or shorts with ground oats or barley is found to give satisfactory results. This Is particularly the case If, after weaning, these foods are sup plemented by a supply of sklmmilk. Hem and Role*. The cauliflower growers of Long Is land, New York, have formed an or ganization to market their product at better prices. Cuyahoga county (0.) farmers are protesting against the proposed In crease of 33 1-3 per cent of the valua tion on farm lands In Ohio by the state board of equalization. Dr. Stubbs, who has been Investigat ing Hawaiian agriculture, Is credited with the report that sugar growing Is the only well developed Industry. Veg etables and fruits, except bananas and pineapples, are supplied by California aud other Pacific regions. Again a movement to curtail the cot ton acreage is called for by some of the southern growers. Wantlnc That f* Worth, While. He— Marry inu and * - shall want for nothing. She—l don't want to want for noth ing. I want to want for something I want.— Philadelphia Record. "How Soon We Are For«ot. w A writer lu a Washington newspaper, in a column devoted to instructive and entertaining chat about the capltol, ex presses surprise because in the base ment of the building are portraits of "worthy old gentlemen" forgotten by "nine-tenths" of the visitors to the building and wonders somewhat why Richard Montgomery, Thomas Mifflin, Charles Thomson and Francis Ilopkln son should find a place In the memory of the painter and on the wall of the sennte basement The writer had looked In Fiske's "History of the United States" and could not find either Thomson or llop klnson. When he goes to Quebec, he may find the mark to Indicate where Montgomery fell while trying to cap ture the citadel and the house In which he died. At St. Paul's church, New York, he can find his tomb. Mifflin he can find as the president of the con gress thnt received Washington's res ignation, and Thomson he will discover to have been regarded as one of the brightest men of the Revolutionary time, while he has but to look at the original Declaration of Independence to see "Fras." Hopklnson's name, one of the best known of ail signers because of the brilliancy and variety of his ac complishments.—New York Times. Yard was once any stick, rod or pole. The expression Is still used with this meaning when applied to various parts of a ship's equipment, as yardarm, sall yard ajid the like. A wise niau thinks before he speaks, but a fool speaks and then thinks of what he has been saying. The ni«ndT«nta*e of Delicacy. The editor sent her little story back, with a polite note praising its delicacy, but saying It was unsuitable to hia magazine. Again she sent It forth. Once more It was returned with kind words for Its delicate touches and re grets that it was unavailable. When a third time the little story had been praised for its delicacy, but rejected, the authoress was in despair. "It looks to me," she said, "as if my story was so delicate that It had gone luto a decline."—New York Mail and Kxnreaa.