VOL XXXIX BICKEL'S MONTHLY STORL NEWS. A grand clearance sale in a'l lines now going on. HEN'S FINE SHOES. Men's fine Do* calf, enamel, vici-kid and cordovan, hand sewed soles, extet fcion edges-« 11 the latest styles to lie closed out at half their legular price. 500 pair Boys' fine shoes. 432 pair Youth's fine shoes. To be closed out at a big bargain. bet The boss What It /Wa\J. Ladies fii- sh .es, latest style lasts, more than half are hand sewed.lace or but ton in \ ici-Vid, enamel, paleiit leather and box-cslf shces that a-e stylish and will w,ar well all Rood sizes and will clos« them out at a big reduction. 500 p.-:ir Ladies' warm lined shoes go at less than half price. «■ n„„ |_ MISSES'AND CHILDREN'S Big tsargains in school SHOES. Felt and Rubber Goods. We have • large stock of Men's. Boys' and Youth's frit boots, and overs which ■wn do not wish to carry over and will closed out at a big reduction. Large »toclt of Rubber Boots and Shoes to be included in this sale. Children's fine rubbers 10c Ladies' fine rubbers 20c. Men's fine rubbers 45c. AW> bijj stick Men's and Boy ' working shoes a*, iway d»v.n prices. High Iron Stiw's with four lasts for repairing. So'e Ira'her cut t . any amount you wish to purchase. *'hoe findings of all kinds at reduced prices. V.V have n ade reductions in all lines and ask you to ca.l an.l examine our f ,r'* and we c-in save you money. JOHN BICKEL, . (jl H MAIN STREET. - • BUTLER, PA <>ooooooooooooooooooooooo Ihe many inquires we are receiving daily asking if we in-| > \ (tend to have our sale testifies to the popularity of these Sacri-< > { >hce Sale* among our many patrons who have been benefited by< 1 > < them in the past. We are anxious to make this I > , ( the biggest success of all previous sales, and shall do so I .offering our goods at prices you connot resist. We s"quote5 "quote all prices—only a few—consequently it will pay you to | make us a personal visit. 4 „ I All Wraps, Suits and Purs. ( > I 'XQPPIfipA 1 All Waists, Wrappers and Dressing Sacques.l I < 111 WW \ All Millinery—trimmed and untrimmed. * ' ] All Dress Goods, Silks and Satins. | All ilunlins, Calicoes and Ginghams. I J All Underwear, Hosiery and Gloves. t !Dm|AAA I A'l La"®- Jswb«oi/!pries A Dress Trimmings. ( | ( > I | IwWW will All Blanket! —woolen and cotton. 1 1 All Lace Curtains and Portiers. I L Sacrifice prices for cash only. Come early to suture first choice., . ' Sal* begin* WEDNESDAY, JANUARY Bth, 190 a. |Mrs J. E Zimmerman.:; Less Than 30Days mS v &r£? n We a>e dttei mined to ftdore cur stork *fcv*r»l tlif.nmiid dollars within this time. R (-member It's the entire stock-j-very little odds nnd ends new goods all ronnd—at astonishingly LOW PRICES. 525 Sewing Machine All Couches Cabinet case—oak— warrant- At reduced prices. Covered td ten j ears. Price S2O. in leather or velonr. Redaction on all machines. $28.00 Velour Conch $lB Sl2 Extension Table _ _ Golden oak, polished—round sl2 Folding Bod top-extends 8 feet. Regu- Full size—oak -golden osk lar price s||s 00. finish Reduced from sls 00. $4 Rocking Chair S4O Leather Suite Flemish oak—covered velonr Four-piece Leather Suite seat—slat back, and a beanty. mahogany finish worth fHO Reduced from sfi 50 of any man's money Look out for dtir Carpet Advertisement. BROWN &• CO., I 189 North Main Street, (across from Duffy'j store,) Butler, Pa. K E C K J i f\ \ . |"J Have a nnttin.M .tH.ut tli.ni that |'j v>\ ,J\ ' C*\ // mark the wearer, it won't do to '/ M V /J ta wear the last year's output. You / » 'A-t/ V r\ won't get the latest things at the P j Ipi rj stock clothiers either. The up-to |/ U Y(i date tailor only ian supply them, AVY iri CJ " y° u w,int not on 'y l ' ,e ' alcst V; I l j ill ll I things in cut and fit nnd work- IJ (l/11l niaiiftliip, the finest in durability, i I ill II 1 where e'ne can you get combina l | I 111 I i 9 tions, you get them at J lk it* KECK G. F. KECK, Merchant Tailor, 42 North Main Street All Work Guaranteed. Butler,P» SL.. , -1. ■ LL. i'.. ■ " f I Subscribe for the CITIZEN THE BUTLER CITIZEN. preserves and pickles, spread ■■ PURE REFINED I PARAFFINE I M will keep them absolutely moisture nnd B acid proof. Pure KeflnedParaffine is also ■$ M uteftil in a dozen otber ways about the W bouse. Full directions tn *ach package. ■ Pffi Sold everywhere. 5B S NaSa * CATARRH (mssk cleanses, soothes and heals £ m the diseased membrane. It cores catarrh and drives away a cold in the head quickly. Cream Balm is placed Into tho nostrils, spreads over the membrane and is absorbed. Relief is im mediate and a cure follows. It is not drying—does not produce sneezing- Large Size, 50 cents at Drug gists or by mail; Trial Size, 10 cents. I ? I Johnston's M M Beef, iron and Wine M f £ Best Tonic » ] 4 Biood Purifier. ll Price, sue pint. Ttt V Prepared and WJ J sold ouly at L'V «Johnston's Ivj Crystal W 4 Pharmacy, H > R. M. LOGAN, Ph. G , % Manager, * J lOfl y. Main Ht., iiutler, I'a Iff Both * I'bon v J * Everything in the ( drug line. A \ * New Liverv Barn W. J. Black Is doing business in his new barn which Clarence Walker has erected for him. All boarders and team sters guarrantecd good attention Barn just across the Hotel Butler, He h »s room f<>r fifty horses. People's Phone. No. 250. L. C. WICK, DBA I.K V ?"» LUHBER. Karl Schluchter, Practical Tailor and Cutter 125 W. Jefferson, Bntlcr, Pa Bushftling, Cleaning and EPAIKINC A SPECIALTY. Now is The Time to Have Your Clothing CLEANED OR DYED 1: you want gooo and reliable cleaning or dyeing done, there is just one place in town where you can •;< •. it, and that b at The Butler Dye Works 216 Center avenue- B&A. We do fine work in out door Photographs. This is the time of year to have a picture ol your house. Give us a trial., Aifntforthe Jiui.eHtown Slid'tiff Blind L'o. N«w York. R. FISHER SON. BUTLER, PA.. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20 U>o2 * O&kj 0 Jv^o4v^owv 1 ma ' p/ 1 *f M I IWI\M p ** * if 8 By KOWARD FIELDING 2o * * " ot &♦ Copyright. 1901, by Charles W. Hooke. "*o+cy>c >o^o*o^o*o*c^o*o*o*o+ •.♦U'XWyvC4C»OWK)»OWK>W*O CHArma i. AS ITEM OF NEWS. 11 I'ttle newsboy had tlle face of nn llnp ' and he must have J?) J I ciimc up ihrotiKh the 111 W J* floor. a>i an imp traditions. Surely the — J creature could not have squirmed tlir ii.trli that tangle of humanity between I'.renda and the door of the car. Yet there he was, itamliUK close against her knees nud hoi.siiaight up into her face. Often t!;«- eyes of children seem to read "tir hearts. It is because they are new !a the world and are content with superticial views. Adults try to look in through our eyes, and they fail, and we note the failure; but children do not try. end we. seeing them satisfied, trem ble for our Inmost secrets. Brenda shook her head to intimate that she had no wish to buy tho n< vs, but the boy did not move. He contin ued to hold his papers before her, fcaz- Ing over them into her face meanwhile with an unwinking stare. It was probable that If she bought a paper the boy would pass on, so Bren da laid a hand upon her purse. The hand remained there rigid, and for some slow seconds the ragged urchin "and the smooth product of all tho social refinements were like figures on a can vas, both for fixity of pose and for bal ance of contrasting expressions, the child still calmly staring, his utter Ig norance counterfeiting wisdom, the wo man tense and eager, her eyes search ing and unsatisfied. "1 will take this paper," she said, speaking with considerable effort, and she gave the boy a coin. Presently she stood upon the side walk of Broadway, gazing across at the ugly brick front of the opera house with a confused notion that it could give her important information, but was perversely refusing to do so. She merely wished to know where she was, and the familiar scene Im pressed LIT as If she had not been there In a long time and had forgotten. Then her mind became clear. She paused lu deep thought and at Its end raised her hand as If to beckon to a cabman; but, changing her purpose, she stepped Into a doorway and read once more the? Item In tho paper that the little buy had thrust under her eyes. At the first glance one who knew Brenda mlf-lit have said that the story lay outside her world and could not In terest her. However, It was what a Journalist i. ight call "good news," and therefore It was printed with the lines very far apart by way of emphasis, and it bore the marks of haste. Thus it ran: Kliio Miller, an actroM living it Ibc nounced the wf.und mortal. It ia Just below the collar bone, on the left aide, extending aharply downward within the body and undoubtedly pierc ing the outer v. ill of the heart. That Mini Miller ahould have aur. Ived the wound longer than a few aeconda ia regarded aa miraculous by Dr. Blair and other physicians, several of whom, including Ambulance Burgeon C'arrington of Bt. Winifred'a boapital, were at the houae within a few minutes after tha du. overy of ttie crime. The weapon waa a hunting knife, having a long blade and ■ deer's foot handle. The blade ia pe culiar, being much thinner than that of the ordi nary hunting knife. It was found on the floor beside the body. A servant says that she haa acen the knife in Miat Miller's room within the laat few days. On a table In tho room waa a letter which may explain the wholo affair. The police have it and refuse to divulge its contcnti, but it is known thst the writer Is Clarence M. Alden, a broker with an oftire on Broad street, lie is the only son of the Iste Ht. Clair Alden, who practically dis inherited him. Miss Miller is a very bosutlful girl, tall and of the brunette type, bhe ia 20 years old. She plsy ed tho part of Nannie in "The Honeybee," an j unsuccessful comedy produced in this city two years sgo. ftincs then her work has not been *ecn here. Brenda walked down Broadway to Thirty-eighth street and turned west ward. Immediately she perceived tho motley crowd which the news or the crime had brought together, and she hesitated. Then, shutting her lips tlrmly together, she resumed her orig inal purpose. The house numbered 148 had a high stoop and a yard the size of a dinner table, lu which the grass was green and well watered, though the neighboring yards were browu with the heat and drought of that remarkable month of June. Tho houso Itself had an air of neatness and tho flavor of home, but Its privacy had been Invaded first by crime aud then by all the train that fol lows It. Tho door stood ajar for pry ing eyes, and tho two gigantic pollco men lounging at tho head of the steps seemed the chief Intruders rather than the guardians of the place. Brenda, for all that was upon her mlud, felt the desecration aud shuddered at It. Tho policemen, who had been leaning against the railings, stood erect and put their shoulders together as Brenda ascended the steps. They seemed to fill all tho spaco nud their heads to tow er to the bouse top. But tho thing must be gone through with now, and Brendu gathered all her force. "1 am a friend of Miss Miller," tho said. "I'leaso let me go In." "Nobody can go In now," replied ono of the men. "Is she dead?" Brenda was framing other questions In her mind, but this one uttered Itself. The policemen exchanged a glance. Then one of them replied with a single word, "No." At this moment there was a stir In the hall. Hearing It, the po licemen began slowly to descend tho steps. Brenda retreated before them, and not a word was spoken. Klie was pressed Into the edge of the crowd at the foot of tin? stone stairs, and she re mained there wiille a litter was brought out on which Iny something perfectly still and covered from cud to cud with a white cloth. It was put Into a great black vehicle. A brisk young man, wearing a blue cap, and a grave, elderly man with a long white beard climbed In after It, and then the somber equi page moved away by the power resi dent within It. And to Brenda the fa miliar spectacle of a self propelling carriage assumed the aspect of a mira cle, and all things seemed to move or stand by virtue of a new force, silent and resistless. "Could I go In?" she whispered to the policeman who had stationed him self beside her. "Can I speak with some one who knows?" "Knows whutV" he replied. "Wlicther -he will recover, whether she has spoken." The man looked at her with a pon derous curiosity. "You wail here." he said. "Give me your uame. and I'll see what I can do'!" Miss Macinne was affected by a touch of caution. "Vo one knows me here," she re; lied. "My name would mean notlr :.g to the m. But j-»ii may say that Miss Wil liams would Kke to spca': Willi the phy sician who was m—a Dr. Blair, I believe." The policeman began to ascend the bteps, but be paused at sight of two men who appeared above. One of them was of medium stature and very heavy, having the build of an ape, with preposterously long arms, which swung aimlessly when he moved, as If they were artificial. He wore the uniform of a police captain. The other was of a conventional type by comparison— llcr fjuze wan fixed upon the coarse, scar red face of tlic captain. that Is, he looked like a human being, and Brenda noticed little else about him. Her gaze was fixed npon the coarse, scarred face of the captain, bru tally cynical and smiling without pur pose. like nn Image hacked out of wood. The policeman saluted his superior and addressed hltu In a low voice. Without waiting for him to finish the captain turned quickly to tho man who had come out of the house with him and asked a question which Brenda did not hear. When this man looked at her. Brenda became aware that he was tall and thin aud that he wore a loose gray suit. "I don't know," said the man in gray thoughtfully. "I can't be sure." The captain descended the steps and lifted his cap with the politeness of a trained animal. "Miss Williams?" said he. "Yes, In deed. I understand that you are a friend of Miss Miller, the girl that got hurt, and that you'd like to talk to Dr. Blair. This gentleman Is Dr. Blair. Bo perhaps we'd better all go into the house, where we can talk more conven ient." Brenda tried to pass him, but she Im mediately found herself between the captain uud one of the policemen, by whom she v.~ns escorted Into the house, the physician walking ahead. Thus they came to n small pnrlor, opening from the hall, to the right. In tho presence of Dr. Blair, whoso mnuner was that of the world wherein she had moved, Brenda regained a part of her self possession. The slmplo ele gance of the room, far beyond anythlug that she lad expected, helped to put her at her ease, and she began to feel the sense of personal douilnanco to which sho was accustomed. "Dr. Blair," sho said, "I really don't know why I should have como here. 1 am not a friend of Miss Miller. I am merely interested In her. Seeing tho story of her terrible mlsfortuno In a newspaper by tho merest accident, I obeyed an unaccountable Impulse and came to this house." "An unaccountablo Impulse." said the captain In a perfectly meaningless voice, as If he hud been an echo. "I can tell you very little," replied Dr. Blair. "No one knows who commit ted the crime nor why It was done"— "But will she die? Such u young girl, with so much to hope for, and they say sho was very beautiful!" "She was, poor child!" responded the physician. "Aud that fact may or may not have had something to do with her misfortune. As to her chance of recov ery, I greatly fear Indeed, to bn frank with you, I doubt whether sho Is living at tills moment." Brenda was as white us paper, and Iter hands wero twined together. "Sho has uot spoken"— she began, and It was the captain who replied. "Not a word," said he. "But wo shan't need anything from her. We Mini ll get to tho bottom of tills affair all right." Brenda turned slowly toward him. "The name of a gentleman," said she, "an acquaintance of mine, was men tioned In tho newspaper account, a Mr. Alden. Of course It Is linposslblo that he should have had any connection with this wretched crime, but perhaps he knew the young woman and"— "Yes," responded the captain, "they were acquainted. And, by the way. perhaps you're familiar with the young gentleman's hand writing. We found a note ou the letter head of his firm. Let me see, what did I do with It? Oh, here It Is. I'cnhaps you'd like to glanco It through." Ho extended Ids hutiil, but Brendu did not take the sheet of paper which he offered. "I could not rend this." sho said, with a slight shudder. "It was not meant for me." A faint expression of surprise hu manized the officer's face for a mo ment. "That don't make any difference," he said. "It'll have to be published. Every body 'II read it." Brendu glnnced nt Dr. Blair, who bowed Ids head. "In that case," she snld, "though It seems nn outrageous Intrusion" "There's no help for It," rejoined the captain, with a grin, which ho used In place of a frown. "We've got to llnil the person that done this deed, and we've got to make use of tills nolo to do It." Brenda took the paper and rend these words: 1 "My Dramt Dear—All goti to wjjl tint I rnuit •end word to you nt once. 1 oan't wall till even ing, when I m«.v see you, and. Indeed, dear love, there is some doubt whether 1 shaU be to quit work l>eftjre midnight At any rate, it bida fair to be ao Ute that 1 should not dare scandalize Mrs. Simmons by calling upon you. So 1 wriie this and make bold to pui a little money into it—five hundreds. Don't ict them frighica you. 1 remember perfectly that you weren't to touch a penny, but 1 rely upon the letter that I wrote last evening to knock all your arguments into smithereens. I thought of a lot of pointa after leaving you. and 1 cited the best precedents. If a fellow is rich—as I am today, thank heaven—he may help his sweetheart to buy her trousseau. If you don't believe it, write to your mother, and while you're waiting for an answer buy the pretty clothes anyhow. Ah. my beloved"— Brenda bad come to the end of the first sheet. Her fnce, that had been so pale, was flushed, and her voice was not quite steady as she said: "I can't read any more. It is dis honorable and unnecessary." "Ah. my beloved/' said the captain, takirg the letter and reading the re ma! ider aloud in a stumbling voice, w h half an eye on Brenda all the t iaie— —"we shall be so happy, youth and lore and money and the whole world before us—the sum mer in Norway, the fall upon the continent, the winter on whatever Mediterranean shore you like the beat, and next June shall find us in Venice and cur twelfth honeymoon in the sky. Think of thia, «W'.«etest of travelers, whose favorite book has alwuys been the atlas. Think of it as you go shopping this afternoon with your pocket full of money. It is all settled; the chains are broken. We are to l-e married HS soon as your mother can rorne ca*t to behold the ceremony. And then away to see Ike world and the shrines of 20 centuries of lovers. My heart and my faith to you. CLARENCE." In the captain's mouth these love words hail the sound of blasphemies, atid I'll-lii!a shrank back to the limit of the room with Dr. I'.lair, who seem ed to be scarcely less affected by the desecration. "The money wasn't found." said the officer after a brief, shrewd scrutiny of Brenda. "The note was on the table, but none of those hundred dollar hills that we read about. Come; I'll show you where we found it." "I don't think I wact to go In there," said Hrenda faintly. "I anj going to the hospital to see whether I can be of any help to her." "You'll have to arrange that through the police." was the reply, "and It can't be done until 1 get some word from there. So I suggest that we take an other look at the scene of the crime." He stepped hack from the door, nnd Brenda passed out of the room. Intend ing to leave the house, but ngain she found herself between the captain nnd -one of his men, and again she obeyed an unspoken order, following one of them while the other followed her. CI! APTER 11. AMOXO THE PICTURES. t f --I.SI K'S room opened knight fro™ the hall, Gj | , \/ at the rear. There K, was a sort of vestl lp bule, with a sliding, QL glass paneled door nt tlie farther end, and SiCriW tills space was divid ed lengthwise »y a curtain, behind which Brenda saw the gleam of a great white tub, uu unusual luxury In cheap lodging* Beyond the vestibule was a room of good height nnd size, with a shallow alcove on the left, in which stood a pretty brass bedstead. Upon the right was an utilised open fireplace beneath an old fnshloued marble mantelshelf which was covered with n quaint uud picturesque collection of souvenirs. There were two tall windows In the southern wall. The lower sashes were hinged at the sides, opening Inward, aud one might step out upon a wooden balcony of the length of the room, Which was the width of the house. Koine crude, familiar pictures hung upon the walls. Obviously they nnte- Un«rr. Blair. "There was no reason why I should pay any particular attention to her. She was a well dressed, styl- ish looking young woman, and that's all I know about her." Brenda looked nt him steadily for some seconds. "l>r. Blair." said she. "what did this Vtßcer ask you ou the steps just be |jre I came lu?" The doctor blushed and glanced un • asily at the captain. "I asked him ll he could pick that wotuau out of a crowd." said the cap lain. "and he told me that he dldu't know; he couldn't be sure." "I fancied that it might have been something of the sort," rejoined Brenda. "Aud now, Captain"— She paused, and the officer supplied the name. "Captain Neale, nt your service," raid he. with n bow. "Thank you. And uow, Captain Neale. I wish you would get the mes sage from the hospital for which you are waiting as quickly as you can, for I mil Impatient to go there." "I'm expecting it auy uilnute," he re plied. "Ah. perhaps this is it." A tall young man of a German type of countenance, with wide blue eyes, entered the room and stood by the door, as if he had no errand, but had simply l.eeu impelled by a gentle, su perior force. There was silence for half a minute. Then the captain ad vanced to the young man aud led lilm by the arm into the vestibule. "What are you here for, Elmen dorf?" he demanded iti a low voice. "Headquarters don't need to mix up In this case. I can look out for It." "Orders,'' replied Kliuendorf. "That's all 1 know. The chief wants a re port." "Well, he'll get one, won't he?" asked the captain. "Now, see here; don't take a step till I say so. I know what I'm about." Klmendorf strolled Into the room and sat down in a large chair, with a sigh. Then, perceiving that Brenda was standing, he rose hnstily, very much to the young lady's surprise. "By the way," said the captain, "while we're waiting I want to ask you about Mr. Alden. We've sent word to his office, but he isn't there. They don't know where he's gone. You knew him quite well, didn't you? I noticed how quick you recognized his hand writing." "Yes," said Brenda, "I knew him quite well." "And you knew Miss Miller?" "I never saw her," replied Brenda after a moment's hesitation. "Why, Miss Williams," exclaimed Neale, with a grotesque attempt to speak softly, "I thought you said you were a friend of hers!" "I hardly knew what to soy to the policemen at the door," replied Brenda calmly. "I was very anxious to get in. Anil let me add that I am at present very anxious to get out." "Just one minute," said the captain. "You knew Mr. Alden. Now, did you happen to know of any young woman that he was particularly sweet on?" "I have heard," replied Brenda slow ly, "that he was at one time engaged to a girl who had a great deal of money Riitl some social stnndlng. but I under stand that Unit has been broken off. It enn have no possible bearing upon this crime, which was plainly tho work of a thief." "You're thinking of the money," said Nenle, caressing his projecting chin with a great, square hand, "the money Alden Is alleged to havo put Into tho letter. It can't be found, und that's a fact" "Is alleged to have put into the let ter!" exclaimed Brenda. "Why, ho says so himself." "Yes," responded tho captain, "that's what he says." An Interval of silence followed. Bren da was leaning forward, her right baud resting on the table, her eyes Intent upon the officer's face. They wero gray eyes ordinarily, and their expres sion siHike of the cultivated self re straint by which tho natural emotions are held In check. Ou this occasion, however, they seemed to bo of a dark blue and to emit a light which even Dr. Blair, who saw tho lady lu profile, did not full to perceive. [TO 118 CONTINUED.) A Cnrloua I'ulin of South America. One of the most curious palms lu tlie world Is culled the ita und is very abundant on the banks of tho Amazon, Ulo Negro nnd Orinoco rivers. In the delta of the latter it occupies swampy tracts, which are at times completely Inundated and present tho appearauco of forests rising out of the water. The swamps are inhabited by u tribe of In dians called Guanines, who subsist al most entirely upon tho produce of the tree. During the annual floods they suspend their houses from tops of the tall stems of the palms. The outer skin of the young leaves Is made Into cords for hammocks, and the soft Inner burk yields a nutritious farluaceous sub stance. Thr < lintn|»l»n Thin Man. A knot of men was guthereil in the smoking room at tho club the other evening. All ordinary topics had been exhausted, und they finally entered upon a contest to see who could tell the most remarkable story about the fat men or the lean men they hud seen. A veritable Amiuhis wus u warded first prize without a dissenting voice when hf' asserted tliut lie hud met in ills travels a luun so thiu that he could "go through u tluto without strlklug u note." U'IKMI Wooila ht-riij. Ti'MtH Imvt? been niado to determine the vnrlutlons lu the length of time that Is required to produce decay In different kinds of woods when burled under the surface of the ground. Tho birch and aspen were both found to decay in three years, the willow and the buckeye In four years, the muplo and the red beech In live years, elm and ush In seven, while tho lurch. Ju niper and nrbor vita; were uninjured ut the expiration of eight years. Clnna Awnlnat <'!«■■. "You." remarked the fire tlend, "are not the consumer I am." "No," said the cyclone; "I am one of the greatest distributers In the busi ness, though."--Indianapolis l'ress. THE MIXING OF CORN. Interesting Experiments With Field find Sweet Varieties. It has been stated that while the pol len of field corn will prove troublesome in mixing with sweet corn, sweet corn will not mix with field corn, or rather its pollen has no influence upon the ears of field corn. In order to test this an experiment was made at the Rhode Island station. In 1898 sweet corn and field corn were plunled together In the following manner: rotter's Excelsior sweet com, four rows; Shaker's Early sweet corn, two rows; Longfellow, two rows; Stowell's Evergreen, two rows; Long fellow. two rows. The four rows of IVtter's Excelsior were on the north side and the others following in the or der as indicated. Longfellow, as most _ growers know. is a yellow flint corn. It is a va y '*3 ££& riety which has <** •| 3 been long grown .jJj \: J and has been ' « ti-n found to be very ftH persistent In y»>§ maintaining its , i'-Ja ,n * be nu " j 185 ? tumii of that year, before the jp4-cP Jpf-ri] conl was har * 3 vested, many of jisffl the ears were examined to Yrffi ~otl' tbe effect of planting togeth "———J er The first rows mixkd cou.v Q f the Longfel low corn in each case showed a very large proportion of yellow kernels. One ear was noted in which less than twenty white kernels were to be found upon the whole ear. Rows farther away showed many less yellow ker nels. One ear was noticed in which there was none at all. The proportion of yellow kernels In rows south of the Longfell w was much smaller than in rows north of It, this being accounted for by the fact that the prevailing winds during summer are from the south or southwest. A number of ears of the Longfellow wore examined in part, but not a single white kernel could be found upon them. Not nil the varieties were grown by themselves to Insure the purity of the seed supply, but a patch of the Potter's Excelsior sweet corn grown by Itself in another place proved to be perfect ly pure, with no admixture whatever of yellow. After husking, the corn was all carefully examined again. A very liberal sprinkling of yellow kernels was found through all the sweet corn ears growing next the yellow corn. The color of the yellow kernels was inter mediate between that of tho pure Longfellow and the white of the sweet corn. In no ease being as dark ns the pure Longfellow. In the ears of Stowell's Evergreen most of the yellow kernels were dented, but were not In ears of the other varieties. In the Longfellow corn a very few kernels were noticed which were lighter col ored than tho others, but they were kernels which were not well developed and did not appear to have been the result of crossing. Aside from this, there was no evidence whatever of any effect from sweet corn pollen. The product oppoared like perfectly pnre yellow corn. In ISO'.) planting* were made as fol lows: First, sweet corn kernels from sweet corn ears—that ts, kernels of sweet corn which showed no Indication of mixing; second, fleld corn kernels from Bweet corn ears; third, fleld corn kernels from fleld corn or, In other words, fleld corn, which, although grown near sweet corn, showed no ev idence of mixing. From the results of the two seasons' test It seemed safe to conclude that the presence of sweet corn lu proxlmi tj to Held com does not Influence the character of kernels of the latter dur ing the season of growth, while the fleld corn does affect tho sweet corn, entirely (•hanging the character of the kernels pollinated by it. Kernels of fleld corn may. however, bo fecundated by sweet corn pollen, and the result will show the following year when those kernels are planted, though the effect has not been visible upon tho kernels themselves. It seems, how ever, that when sweet corn has been crossed by fleld corn the effect gener ally, If not always, shows and that kernels which do not show the effect will give a pure product tho following year. The cut represents the third year product of fleld corn pollinated by sweet corn. Winter Car* of Bees. Have n thermometer In the cellar and try to keep the temperature between 40 and CO degrees. Visit the cellar oc casionally to ascertain If the bees are quiet. If they seem uneasy at times, a little more ventilation will probably quiet tlicm. Allow as little noise aud light as possible. Bees consume con siderable less honey when wintered lu the cellar than when out of doors, oth er things being equal. The dead bees should be swept up and carried from the cellar occasionally and everything kept sweet and clean, so as not to have any foul air lu the apartment. In early spring when the weather begins to warm up the bees will no doubt show signs of restlessness. They should not, however, be set out too early. About the time of soft maple bloom Is right In most localities. To keep the tempera ture low and the bees quiet It will bo necessary to open the windows at night aud keep them closed In the daytime, advises an experienced apiarist In American Agriculturist. THE BEAN CROP. A Decline or Production linn ri»«»d 1111 port« to l'Urac«*lr Increase. From an Interesting and suggestive review by the government division of statistics of the United Stoles beau crop It Is learned that with reference to weight the commercial bean crop of tho United Htatvs Is more nearly compara ble to that of rice than to any other domestic food crop. It Is possible that the flee crop Just harvested Will prove to bo the record crop of this country, and commercial authorities estimate It as high us 300,000,000 pounds. The henn crop is somewhat more Important; for, excluding the Important producing state of New York, for which no recent statistics are available, the production of beans In the principal producing states lu 1805-IMI, the record year for that crop, was alib about 800,000,000 pounds. Moreover, the average annual production of beans, exclusive of New York, for tho live calendar years IWS to IN!M> Inclusive, has been about SilK,- (MMt.iNMi pounds, exceeding the annual average production of rice for the same period by about 85.000,000 ponnds. As In the case of rice, also the production of beans Is lusulliclent for the country's needs. Excepting for a short period In No.B the p. st decade imports of beans anil pra have exceeded the exports by quantities musing from 8,000,000 to 80,. 000.000 pounds annually. IVai! i in sreat variety are produced in a M.iall way In gardens and truck patches and for consumption ~ln both the green and dried state In nearly If net all the states of the Union, but tho c nunon dried beans of commerce, to which the alxive statistics refer exclu sively. are the product, as Is the r!ca crop, of a comparatively small number of slates. As is well known, the Impor tance of dried beans as an article of food In this country dates from the dv« II war. The adoption of this vegetable by tho United States government as a part o£ the army ration created for It an ex tensive demand, and upon the disband merit of the forces the use of this ac customed article of diet naturally be came popularized throughout the coun try Production on a large scale, bow ever. became localized In a few states, and at present Michigan, New York, California aud Wisconsin may be re garded, from a commercial point of view at least, as the only important producing states. Recent statistics of production, however, are also available for the comparatively unimportant pro ducers, Minnesota and Illinois. The production of beans reached Its 1. axlmuin in each of the four states given during the period from 1805 to ISO 7. and sluce 1897 production In each state has steadily declined. The In crease in production during this peri od resulted in an excess In 1897, for the first time In the history of this trade, of exports over Imports, but the subse quent decrease in production has again turned the tide, and Imports for the past two years been In excess. Apparatus That Makes the Process Easy and How to Use It. American Agriculturist describes a seaUllug pan or vat made with I}£ Inch boards and galvanized Iron, using for the sides two pieces of boards about 5 feet long and 14 or 10 Inches wide. Have the lower corners slightly round ed. Secure a piece of galvanized iron 28 to 30 Inches wide and 7*4 or 8 feet long. Nail the iron to the bottom of the boards, allowing It to extend around each end to the top. To use this dig a trench In the ground a little narrower than the pan, 2 or 3 feet longer and 18 or 20 Inches deep. Set the pan over this trench, bank up on the sides with soil and put In about six Inches of water, build a fire under one end and allow the water to heat. At one side of the vat build a platform for scraping the hogs. Have a couple of pins near the top of the pan, over which put the ring of two trace chains. Put the hog on the plat form. Have one man take hold of both chains on the opposite side of the vat. Roll the hog Into the chain hold er, letting it down into the water grad ually. Standing astride the pan, each taking bold of the ends of one chain, two men will easily turn and scald a heavy hog In about half the time It can be done in the barrel. The water can be kept at the proper temperature by adding more fuel or by adding cold water when It Is too hot The trace chains should be close enough together to pass In front of the hind legs and Just back of the front legs. When the bog is scalded, he can be returned to the platform by replacing the rings of the chain on the pins and lifting on the free end. The Kvolntlon of tho Windmill. The evolution of the windmill, from the huge, clumsy machine of the four teenth century or from even the wind mill of fifty years ago to the present improved, light, rapid running but powerful form of today, has been as remarkable ns any feature of Irrigation development, and the American wind mill of the present Is no unimportant accessory to the great Irrigation sys lems which are being year by year projected and completed throughout the west.—Farm, Field and Fireside. Sews and Notes. The government statistician reports 0,674,000 bales as the probable cotton production of the United States in 1901-02. Commercial estimates of the area sown to rice In 1901 In Texas range from 75,000 to 115,000 acres. It Is stated that the manufacture of cottonseed oil Is not likely to be taken up In India because the seed of that country Is not sufficiently rich In oil. Of goatskins our principal source of foreign supply Is the British East In dies. Question of Bthlea. "Be truthful," said the teacher. "Always?" nsked the boy. "Always," answered the teacher. "Never tell a lie?" "Never." . ■ ! '< "Not even a white lie?" "Not even a white lie." "Huh!" ejaculated the lad scornful ly. "It's a mighty good thing for you you ain't a boy with my dad for a fa ther." "Why?" asked the teacher. "Because," replied the boy, "If you was my dad's little boy an you'd heard what he said about Aunt Elita comln to visit us with her children an Aunt Eliza had asked you if you weren't all glad to see her an you'd told the truth, like I did. you'd think there was a place where your trousers was mighty thin after dad got through with you." He went back to his deßk, and as he sat down with great care there was an expression on his face that showed the great lesson of truth had been, at least In a measure, lost on him. Aud In his Indignation and Innocence he did not appreciate the humor associated with the fact that his teacher did not belong to that division of the human race that wears trousers. —Chicago I'ost. KoUlmo Mourning Customs. All Eskimos are superstitious about death, and, although they bold festi vals in memory of departed friends, they will usually carry a dying person to some abandoned hut, there to drag out his remaining days without food, medicine, water or attendance. After the death of a husband or a wife the survivor cuts the front hair abort and fasts for twenty-live days. A Contractor. "What does your father do?" asked the teacher of the new boy. "He's a contractor." was the reply. "A railway contractor?" "No, uia'am; a sausage contractor. He ties up the ends after another man has tilled them." Different Methods. "Whatever became of Lamb?" "Oh, he played tho markets and went broke." "And Wolff, what became of him?" "Oh, he worked the marketa aud got rich."—Fuck. Hons Too Llbtrtl. "Mr. Linger spends a great dMI M time with you. Molly," said Mr. Kit tlsli to Miss Frocks. "Yes. but that's all he doe* •pend."— IWrolt »-—«•