VOL XXXIX BICKEL'S Spring Footwear. The Largest and Host Complete Stock We Have Ijjver Had. MEN'S SHOES. All the latest styles in Men's Fine Shoes- A full line of Men's Patent Kid Shoes—tbe latest style lasts, #2.50, #3.00, $3.50, $5 00 and $8 00. Men's Fine Calf. Vici-kid and Box-calf Shoes, $1 25 to $5. Large stock of Men's Patent Leather and Vici kid Oxfords in up-to-date styles. BOYS' AND YOUTHS' SHOES. Our «tock of Coys' ar.d Youths' Shoes made on the new spring lasts are very attractive. Fuli of Boys' and Little Gent's Shoes in Patent-kid, Box-calf and Vici-kid. See our large stock of Boys' and Youths' Fine Patent Leather Oxfords. LADIES' FINE SHOES. Them and You Will Buy Them- Onr stock of L .dim' Fine Shoes ij Complete —Made in all leathers and on the Utest »ti li iasu —vnogtnK iu price from |IW) to ft.oo. n THE H:»kO->IS SHOES $3.50. THE GOLDEN RULE £HOES $3 00. THE t'ARTEIi COMFORT SirOES #2.00. See Them, they are Handsome. Onr line ot Ladies' Patent Leather Oxfords. jnisses* and cHibDßeN's SHoef>. jiji: uitl > large stocji of JJisses'. and Fine Shoes and Oxfords—con J piiaefe Irtnneliy new'and pretty stales for Sprin'g. All sizes—A to EE. Ail Winter good* to be closed out regardless of cost f hce Sales among our many patrons who have been benefited byi attending them in the panpt resist. We canjiotV cjuotc £l] pricps—oply a few—consequently it wjTJ pay you to* make us a personal visit ' > I ) / All Wraps, Suits and Furs. < > AniflAA I All Wijjjt?, W'»ipj1 V**J \ft won't get the latest things at the P/ vit P? 1 R stock clothiers either. The up-to if \*\ U yffl f-* date tailor only tan supply them, g « 1 fyv. . ulf O y° u want not on 'y " ie ' atest (J \ I / il //Til I things in cut nnd fit and worlt- II I 11 flf If I nionship, the finest in durability, 11 I Jp ]]l 11 I where e'se can you get combina ' I 111 l Hill V tions, you get them at KECK G. F. KECK/ Merchant-Tailor, 41 North Maim Street All Work Guaranteed. Butler,Pa Subscribe for the CITIZEN THE BUTLER CITIZEN. S preserves and pickles, spread 9 fe a thin coating of • S I PURE REFINED 1 | PARAFFIN E | 51 Will keep them absolutely moisture and B |g\ acid proof. Pure Refined Parafflne is also Bp H useful in a dozen other ways about the H| QS boose. Full directions In aach package. V Sold everywhere. S Nasal CATARRH Bi&m Ely'sC cleanses, soothes and heals I M the diseased membrane. !<**"*<. 1 It cures catarrh and drives M away a cold In the head qnicklv, V'renm Balm Is placed into the nostrils, spreads gver the membrane and is absorbed. Relief is im mediate and a care follows. It is not drying—does not produce sneezing. Large Size, 50 cents at Drug gists or by mail; Trial Size, 10 cent* F<| Johnston's Beef, Iron and Wine vi lhe Ffl Best Totjir fcl ana r M Purifier. kl Tree, 50c pint. f.srand and W2 I" ti A Johnstons H >1 Crystal N N Pharmacy. >1 H U IP J W. M. LOGAN, Ph. G . kW [ V Manager. B j 9 A IW N. Main St.. Butler. Ph k 1 v Both ' Phones V J P2 Everything in the k*f kl drug line. » A 111 New Liver" Barn W. J. Black Is doing business in liis new barn which Clarence Walker erected lor him. All boarders and team steis guarranteed good attention* Barn just across the street from Hotel Butler. He has room for fifty horses. People's Phone. No. 250. Eyes Examined Free of Charge R. L. KIRKPATRICK. Jeweler and Graduate Optician T)->or to Ocnrt Hot-.*?, PB. Now is The Time to Have Your Clothing CLEANED OR DYED If you want goou and reliable cleaning or dyeing done, there is just one place in town where you can get it, and that is at The Butler Dye Works 216 Center avenue- do fine work in out door Photographs. This is the time of year to have a picture oi your house. Give us a trial. Agent for tbe Jau,eßto4o»©arMKs4©^o I EQUAL PARTNERS J '"o f. p. * fO S By HOWARD FIELDING || C> H « 6$ Copyright, 1901, by Charles W. Hooke. *0 « tc*o 10*. c >cio<-c ;^o^o^o^o-rO«>o«oao^o^o¥ H;v'J5 CHAPTER V. THE PATIENT AT ST. WINIFRED'S. '^ e T " n ' ifred's with Brenda ST- Xlr " Barucs - r-5»S>? F' * Haggerty exerted Ey A jtf themselves to be en ytei-talning. By way ot opeuiaK a °°nver xs—— sation and showing that personal interest whieh a lady al ways appreciates Mr. Barnes mention ed the singular circumstance that he liappopeJ to know a man who had seen Mi:ss Maclaue that afternoon. He won dered whether Miss Maelane could guess where It was that this man had seen her. Upon Brenda's acknowledg ing that she was unable to solve this riddle Mi - . Barnes kindly gave ber a clew. "If you could remember where you j were at precisely ten minutes to 3," he : said, "why, that would settle it." Breuda smiled at the great astute pegs pf Mr. Barnes, but she declined to |fd iuta a review of her movements that afternoon. Mr. Haggerty then struck into the conversation with the remark that it was curious how people coul.i forget where they had been, and he instanced the case of a young lady who had lost an excellent alibi in a criminal affair through the error of net taking the nolicj Suto oonriOtenetj til nil early'stage of the proceedings, the facts were fresh in her mind. Brenda suggested that perhaps the lady did not fully trust the police, whereupon Mr. Barnes asserted warni lv that thfij was *iie greatest mlstakfe ftosslbie to a human being. "Always trust the police," he said. "Guilty or innocent, it's the only tiling fu ' "" I the H ***"" .^uiKUl «ie»y enaent that Barnes and Hagger ty had encountered a mysterious and formidable obstacle. They were about to accompany Brenda into the recep tion room, and she had begun to fear that they might never leave her while she remained In the building, but for some Inscrutable reason they vanished, and Brenda's last glimpse showed them obviously crestfallen. She had been somewhat lightened In spirits by the absurd comedy played by these dull witted men. It had end ed, however, and the real significance pf the drama again asserted Itself. The reception room of St. Winifred's is lofty and bare, and there was a chill air In it even on that sultry June even ing. Brenda observed that the place inspired her two companions with a vague terror. The maid was seized with a vi.- ible trembling, and the stal wart James shifted his heavily shod feet upon the floor, arousing singular ly loud echoes that seemed to affect him unpleasantly. The attendant who had shown them in returned after some minutes' ab sence with two men, one of whom Brenda had seen in the hall as they en tered. He was the typical hospital phy- f— '/ /' '' ' ' J "Miss Maclanel" she cried in a weak voice. siclan of the popular conception. Bren da noted only that he wore spectacles and that his upper lip was very thin and rigid. In his companion Brenda was rejoiced to recognize a young doc tor of her acquaintance, Sumner Ken dall. She advanced hastily, with ex tended hand. "Dr. Kendall." she exclaimed, "I had no idea you were connected with St Winifred's. I have come to see Miss Miller. Is she conscious? What has she said?" The physician seemed to be laboring under considerable embarrassment. He took Brenda's hand with a quick, nerv ous movement, and he clasped it hard er than the forms of polite society per mit. But he did not meet the young lady's eye. "Our patient is conscious," he said. "She has an excellent chance of recov ery. Indeed under ordinary circum- Btanees there would be small cause for alarm. To our great surprise, we find that she does not know who Inflicted the wound. It may be only a lapse of memory due to shock, but I myself fear that she will never be able to answer the question." "She does not know?" echoed Brenda. "You must understand," said Ken flail, "that the assailant stood behind her. He, whoever it may have been, is supposed to have entered the room while Miss Miller was out on the bal cony. I have had the place accurately described to me. In the corner of the room near the eastern window there is quite a large closet. Perhaps you no ticed it." Brenda Inclined her head. "The assassin may have hidden him self there," Kendall continued. "Miss Miller remembers stepping into the room through that eastern window, and she knows nothing of what hap pened between that moment and the time of her awakening here." "She will live," said Brenda. "She will remember some day." "She can never remember what ih® Aid not observe," replied KendalL "It may be that she neither saw nor heard the assassin. As to the wound, I hard ly know what to say. The knife enter ed between the first and second ribs and passed downward very close to the body wall. Ordinarily it would be al most Impossible to inflict such a wound. The assassin must have been singularly ignorant of anatomy to strike downward at such a spot, for the chances were a thousand to one that the bony structure would protect the vital parts. The knife should hav» cleared the first rib and hit fairly against the second. Rut it happens that Miss Miller received an injury on this precise spot years a;ro, as a result of which the first rib ig somewhat de pressed. Thus the murderer was favor ed by an extraordinary chance. His idea was, lirst. to escape being seen by her. and, second, to strike at the front of the body while standing behind in order to avoid the blood that must fol low the blow. Having struck, he un doubtedly supposed that he had reach ed the heart, and only a miracle pre vented. Our ambulance surgeon believ ed that the wall of the heart was punc tured and that a clot of blood was stop ping the wound, as happens once In a million times. That is not the case. Not only did the knife miss the heart but it missed the arteries in a way that on ly divine Providence can account for. So the first effusion of blood was not followed by the fatal drain that might have been expected. Do 1 make myself clear?" "I-understand enough," said Brenda. "I know that she may recover, and 1 thank God with all my soul." There was a pause, during which Kendall's embarrassment, that had been less noticeable while his mind was bent upon a description of Eis'.e'a In jury. once more; Itself. Brenda K u»i . >c-d that his face was flushed and his forehead moist, and she was puz rled. "Have you told her that I am here?" 6he asked. "Does she to see me?" "We have liot mentioned It," he re plied, "but you nPed have no hesita tion. We have given her a very nice room." he hurried on. "You'U And that everytUliitf In the world Is aonv 'tor her. SUaU we so m'f l '£h* eth»* —' •' then came for ward, nnd Brenda gave him her hand, though Kendall, in the extremity of his embarrassment, forgot to utter the form of presentation. A straight and long corridor, the longest, as it seemed to Brenda. that mortal architect had ever designed, led rearward to the part of the building in which Miss Miller had been sequester ed. Kendall led the way, and his col league walked behind. For the third time that day Brenda experienced the sensation of surrendering her volition. The hospital became a prison; she was being marched to some deep cell be yond the reach of rescue or the light of day. Then, in a moment, she saw Dr. Kendall open a door and step back that she might pass before him. Brenda's first glance happened to fall directly upon the face of the patient, and she cannot truly be said to have seen anything else In the room. The bed was only an indistinct splash of white. The bare walls, the plainly curtained window, the nurse In profile, motionless as a figure on tapestry, en tered Into the feeling, but not into the view of the scene. She beheld only that sweet and sad little face, so pret ty, so maidenly and tender. And the real essence of this despicable crime, tho Inconceivable Inhumanity of it, seemed to speak straight to Brenda's heart In that language of nature which Is without words. Elsie's brown eyes opened wide. They had been half closed, and she had been looking at heaven knows what; nothing In that room surely, nothing that ever had been anywhere perhaps. They turned to Brenda with utter surprise. "Miss Maclane!" she cried in a weak voice, but distinct as the tone of a little 1 silver bell. "You have come to see me! How kind of you!" Then sudden -1 ly, "Why did you do it?" Brenda sank upon her knees beside ' the bed and took Elsie's hand. "lt was an Impulse—a mere impulse," she said; "but I am very glad I came. I am so sorry for you. I am a good nurse. I have been taught. Will you let me stay here with you until you are well?" Two tears gathered in Elsie's eyes and gilded slowly down her cheeks. Her lip quivered like a child's. "I shan't get well," she said. "I don't want to." And then the tears came very fast. CHAPTER VI. AN ARGUMENT FOB THE DEEEJT9E. HEN one Is In the val -7/W m win ley of the shadow, LI VALMX/ age and experience may furnish many ZJ W W r\ reasons for desiring VV M t/l to go farther in pref erence to returning. 'r W As a rule, however, these reasons are swallowed up in the 'nstinct of living and in the interest one takes In one's own struggle with the dark angel. A physician will hear many people say that they do not wish to recover, but most of them will wait until after the danger is over be fore giving utterance to words which the supernal powers may take too seri ously. Dr. Kendall was not In the least pre pared to hear such an expression from this particular patient. He would have said that she was one who enjoyed life, every minute of it. Certainly she was as full of natural vitality as a young fawn in the woods. Plainly Brenda was at least as much surprised as Kendall, and the physician awaited her response with critical interest. If she should ask an explanation or offer an argument, it would Blow that she had not the instinct of the nurse. It was in the nature of an exafntnatlco, and Brenda passed it with great credit. "If you will tell me I may stay," she said, "I will do something that will make you feel much better." "You know that I want you to stay," said Elsie. "It was very, very good of you to come, and I thank you tru ly." "Such being the case," replied Bren da, "I am going to fix your hair. One moment, while I make myself ready. And now," she added, "don't move; not a muscle. See, I can reach It with out tbe slightest trouble." And with cool and steady hands she arranged the brown masses in which there lurked a strange glow like red gold in tbe sun. It was cleverly done. Elsie felt the caressing hands, but they were so deft that not a tremor reached the wound. Dr. Kendall, observing closely, nodded his head as one who considers a question satisfactorily set tled. "Such beautiful hair!" said Brenda. "You must be very vain of it." But Elsie averred that she did not care for dark hair; It was so common- She would much rather have Brenda's. "The entente cordiale Is now fully es tablished," said Kendall. "Miss Mac lane, the patient Is iu your hands. I shall expect her to be playing golf in about a week. It won't be necessary for you to assist me any furiher. Dr. Johnson," he continued, addressing his colleague. "I will Join you ifl my room." Dr. Johnson bowed and withdrew. Dr. Kendall took a seat by the bed, and without appearing to do anything particularly Important he determined with great thoroughness the condition of his patient. Not all that he observed would be comprehensible by a layman. The most conspicuous feature in the case was the improvement of Elsie's spirits. She spoke cheerfully t«> Bren da and seemed to have acquired in so short a time a certain dependence up on her. Then, almost as she was speak ing, her eyes closed, her hands upon the white coverlet relaxed, and she fell asleep. Kendall and Brenda watched her In silence for a momeut while the profes sional nurse, who had remained in at tendance, adjusted the shades upon the electric lights. "While she sleeps." whispered Bren da, "1 would like to telephone to my father. Dr. Johnson told me that Mr. Alden is probably still held at the sta tion. He must lie or he would be here. My father must try to secure his re lease. By the way, of coutve Miss Mil ler asked for bimV" "For Mr. Alden? Ves," replied Ken dall. "What did you tell her?" "We said lhat he had sent all sorts of kiud messages and that he received constant « ports from 11s, but that she must not ass to see him before tomor row." "Did she plead to see him at once?" asked Brenda. Kendall hesitated for a rooaient while they w*re silently out of the room. "Miss Miller is a very obedient pa tient." he said. "No one could give less trouble." "Well?" rejUued Brenda. "Please proceed." "1 don't quite understand." "Vou have something more to say." "It occurred to trie," Kendall slowly, "that sihe exhibited less auxie ty U> *ep Air. luan »■»•---" fespeoteri " .ouid have This statement seemed to furnish Brenda with abundant food for thought. She said nothing as they traversed the long corridor, and Ken dall also was silent. After Brenda had sent the message to her father she conferred with Kendall in regard to her remaining in the hospital as Elsie's nurse and then dispatched ber maid under James' escort for such things as she would need. Tbe departure of the servants left Brenda and Kendall alone in the re ception room. "1 wish you would tell me more about Miss Miller," said she. "I can not understand why she should not have wished to see Mr. Aides." "I did not say that." responded Ken dall. "It was her manner that struck me as peculiar." "She seems as unaffected and Impul sive as a child," said Breuda. "I can imagine her asking for Mr. A'den as naturally as If he had been a drink of r.-ater." "That Is precisely what she did not do," said the doctor. "Let me tell you just what happened. When she was brought to the hospital, she was un conscious. For certain reasons we took her to the room where she now is, though that would not have been the ordinary course. While I was making my first examination of the wound she began to revive, aud I be lieve that she regained the full com mand of ber faculties within a few minutes. It is not always possible to say just when a patient's mind be comes effectually clear, but I am per fectly sure that Miss Miller's was wide awake some little time before she chose to let that fact appear. "You must remember that we over estimated the gravity of the wound and indeed were expecting the worst at any moment. Considering the na ture of the casn it was important to question her immediately. I asked her who had inflicted the injury, and I know that she heard and understood me as well as you do now, but she made no sign. After her first view of the place, which she must hflve recog nized as a room in a hospital, she closed her eyes, and I think It must have been a matter of five minutes before she opened them." "Thinking," said Brenda, "thinking, thinking. Poor child!" "Though she is obviously abnormally sensitive to pain." Kendall continued, "she bore what had to be done with the fortitude of a Christian martyr. I made up my mind after awhile that a miracle had protsrted her and that shs had a chance to survive; therefore I ceased to ask questions, deciding to let her take her own time. When she spoke, it was not in reply to me, and she seemed to address no one. 'I am going to die,' she said, and then she be- J Kendall and IJrcnda ivatchcd her in si lence for a moment. gan to cry very softly, as you saw her a few minutes ago. 1 replied that 1 did not think so. but she shook her head, murmuring something about the grief of her mother, who could not come in time to see her. 1 asked for her moth er's address aud was Informed by a police sergeant who had just been ad mitted to the room, coming under or ders from Captain N'eaie, that Mrs. Simmons, the landlady, had telegraph ed to Mrs. Miller. "The sergeant then came lumbering up to the side o." tbe bed armed with a notebook and a pencil. Without wait ing for him to put a single question Miss Miller told her story of the crime as 1 told it to you. Stv had stepped out upon the veranda aud had almost iinmeu ately re-entered the room by the ea- tern window. She neither saw nor hi ard any one. Beyond a confused memory ol a sharp at'J terrible pang, sutVcn. unexpected and probably mean ingkas. because the mind Is darkened before it can comprehend, she can re call notblug. There was very little for the sergeant to put down in hia note book." "Did he believe her?" asked Brenda. "Ves; I thiuk the sergeant did," re plied Kendall, with a slight emphasis on the noun. "At least the only indica tion of doubt he gave me was to ask me in the corridor afterward whether the wound could have been self inflict ed. 1 told him to dismiss the idea, and he seemed to have no difficulty in do ing so. It is not, at the first glance, a physical Impossibility, but practically it is precisely that." "Suppose she should say that she did it," said Brenda. "With apologies to Miss Miller," re sponded Kendall, "I must tell you that thar would not affect my opinion In the least. If she has any desire to shield the guilty, she cannot do it in that way." Brenda's keen grey eyes searched tbe physician's face. "Do you believe that?" she demanded. "Frankly." said Kendall, "my opin ion is that Miss Miller knows perfectly well who did this deed." "And her motive for concealment?" "1 leave that to ber own heart," was the reply. "Yet it would seem that there could be but one." "A motive of the heart," said Brenda. "Do you realize that this amounts to au accusation?" "Then let us not speak of it any more." said Kendall. "Let us get back to Mr. Alden." "We have already done so," she said; but the doctor would not be drawn Into such an admission. "After the police officer had gone," he resumed. "Miss Miller asked me whether a note addressed to her ha(J been found in her room. I answered yes, and then she Inquired whether Mr. Allien had been Informed of her misfortune faring to excite her, I substituted for the truth the fiction that I just outlined to you, and my poor little patient merely sighed. Bhe did not ask when she could see Mr. AKleu nor mention his name again in any connection." "From which you infer"— "Nothing wlMUewv. 1 " insisted Kee ■ You uei triw* - „ ~ , lioi w<*» - - " ,e - 811,(1 Bren(la ' ...out bitterness. "You believe Mr. Alden guilty of this frightful crime, and you date not say so In my pres ence fot fear that I may not be dis creet and you may be put into an un pleasant position." "1 could scarcely be put Into a posi tion more unpleasant than this one," said Kendall earnestly. "1 want to tell you the exact truth about—about everything that 1 know or Imagine, and it is deadly hard to do it when you look at me as if I were an enemy. This Is as near as 1 can come to an accurate expression: Miss Miller's man ner convinces me that she Is shielding the assassin, and there is no known reason why she should shield any one else than Mr. Alden." "But why not take the perfectly easy alternative that she is telling the truth?" "I will," said Kendall, "if you wish me to." "I am very serious," said Brenda. "This Is a promise you are making?" "It is," replied Kendall, his face flushed and his voice not quite steady. "It is my word of honor given to you, and so twice sacred as the word of r friend," he added. "You were good enough to say that we were friends two years ago." "I have better cause to say It now," she replied. "Let me hasten to prove my sincerity in the usual way, by bur dening you with a confidence. You must be wondering at me." "Why?" "Because I am here." "It is a fine thing," said Kendall earnestly. "So much I know." "I will tell you more," rejoined Brenda, "and it will make you think better of Mr. Alden. This tragedy of today is a revelation to me, but not of the kind that you suppose. Mr. Alden had not concealed from me that his heart had been won away, but I did not understand. He told me of Miss Miller's existence two months ago, but I would not hear all he wished to say. He intimated that he had begun to re gard her with feelings that made his engagement to me dishonorable. I viewed him with pity," and Brenda laughed very softly and without mirth. "I was so incredibly Ignorant of every thing outside my own sphere that I could not imagine the existence of such a woman as lies now in that room out there. "Clarence said she was an actress, and he looked at me as a man upon the defensive. I can see him now. I pictured a siren, a creature grotesquely unworthy, appealing to his wild and reckless nature with thin artificea that would be clear as glass to him when he should view them with a dis passionate eye. Truly, I was only sorry for him, ashamed of him a little, yet very anxious to help him. It seem ed to me that breaking our engage ment would be the very worst thing that could happen to him, and so I re fused to consider the woman at all. One meets men in society. Dr. Ken dall, whose well known ways of life have an unfortunate tendency to per vert women's Ideas in such matters. We admit the existence of certain per sons whom we see in the park with elegant equipages, but we cannot con sider them as rivals." "But surely he spoke of her with respect," said Kendall. "Absolute," replied Brenda, "but I thought him the more a fooL He said one evening, I remember —and it was only a very short time ago—that Miss Miller cared nothing for him and never would. I was merely convinced by his sincerity that the woman was playing a deep game, and I swore by such gods as I have that I would save him from her. And so it went on until last even ing, when he sent me a note which made it impossible that our engage ment should continue. It was only a frank, honest statement that his heart had passed utterly out of his control. I can see now that he could have done no better, but I did not take the right view at the moment. Perhaps it was because 1 had heard that day for the first time that Mr. Alden's engagement with me was of the highest importance in his business affairs. If he had al lowed it to continue for that reason- But he had not. It was really all my doing. "However, to continue, I went to his office today because I was impatient, aud 1 told him that the engagement was at an end. That was in ten words. And the loss of me. Dr. Kendall, affect ed him so little. He was obviously so wrapped In an impenetrable happiness that T lost my temper for the first time iu a good many years and cut short the Interview. Oh, we were perfectly cour teous to each other, and when we part ed—most uuromautieally. with an ele vator man rattling the catch of the door to make me hurry we shook hands upon a vow of friendship. But I was in a shameful rage as I left the building. "1 went up town as far as the shop ping district and wandered aimlessly In the stores. Then I got upon a street car, preferring it to the loneliness of a eab. And so It happened that a news boy tlirust the story of this crime into my face. The paper was wet from the press—printed and upon the street with in half an hour after the discovery of the crime. A reporter must have been right upon the scene by accident and have rushed to his office immediately. "Let me confess my own folly. In the very first instant 1 feared that Mr. Aldeu might have struck the blow. It was sheer madness. I was over wrought by the ercitement of the after noon. and. remember, I then pictured Miss Miller as a desperate and schem ing woman, one whose real nature was likely to be revealed to Mr. Alden In an instant by an unguarded word. What mad scene might follow, who could say? There might have been some sort of struggle. She might have turned the knife against herself, mean ing to strike him. Impatience smoth ered me. I must know at once. and. besides, I had a deadly longing to see her—to set- the woman who liad wrick ed a life that was dear to me and lost her own in dolug It "My tirst awakening was In her room. There vans something of herself In it. Afterward I came here and hoard thai old uian in the oQice say 'Hi; i hi! 1 -\r.d iln n I saw her, with li!flt :cr;!.;il:ie surprise, even after such prep: at: •:! a* I had had. Iler rival? I ai:» l: i vain. Why did 1 not see her liefeii'? And the idea that Clar ence Alt!• • 'i| have lifted his hand arra'::»i ;• . . i eso t-atin tieally l>eau t• i": : - '■■■ i :".-t a;:?*, al irresistibly to a man so strong as lie Is utterly monstrous. You can't believe It." "You are nuite right," said Kendall. "I don't believe It." |to be continued.) INDIVIDUALITY OF COWS. A f'.-ay From LUc With «» Indica tion. nnil Safucestion., What a farmer keeps dairy cows for Is to make money. He wants to put in feed aud milk out profit The scientist can talk about gluten and cot tonseed, but if these do not make milk the farmer does not want them, lucrjktia. and if be can make milk on anything cheaper, like hay and corn fodder, be 1s going to do It. Mr. Walter A. Co nant of the Rhode Island station has lately been pursuing an untried field of investigation bearing on this point in a study of the individuality of dairy cows. It has seemed to him that cer tain feeds and certain amounts of feed have made more milk in the case of some cows and less milk in the case of others. The remarks in bulletin No. 80 on the peculiarities of temperament and habits of a dozen cows, separately re corded and with excellent illustrations of each animal, have a lively interest and are likely to set any farmer to trying for better results In bis own practice. Two of the cows are here pictured. Lucretla is described as a registered Guernsey cow, dropped Jan. 10, 1892. Lucretia shows large Intelligence even for a thoroughbred. Lucretia's dispo sition at present is all that could be desired in regard to man. Again, she Is neutral in the matter of affection and in regard to brushing and petting, though a trifle sensitive to carding. She will quietly domineer over any smaller cow, seemingly taking pleasure in keeping her from getting any water to drink. She is a slow drinker, but dislikes cold water. She prefers to lap her water unless very thirsty. She rarely eats fine salt, nor does she lick rock salt freely. Lucretia is so sensi tive as to shrink in milk if any one talks to the man who is milking her. Lucretia is a ready eater of hay and takes to corn fodder, though not show ing eagerness for either. The effort to keep Lucretia from fattening was a failure. Rotha is a registered Guernsey cow, dropped Marcn 21, 1894. Rotha shows the dairy temperament Though ex tremely nervous, she is not rendered so by external circumstances, for they do not seem to trouble her. She is not affectionate with man and does not care to be petted or brushed and is quite sensitive when carded. She is a keen trickster. She lies in wait, in conjunction with Lucretia, in the yard about the watering tub to punch the weaker cows. She is more ugly with the other cows than Lucretia and more tricky with man, though she Is not Intractable and never toward man a kicker or hooker. She eats but little salt. She is n good, deep and ready drinker, not stopping to lap or mind ing the temperature of the water. She takes to hay and corn fodder well. Where it is practicable Mr. Conant recommends as economical feeding, except on farms where grain is grown in large quantities and is cheap, to give hay and fodder first water promptly and fully and afterward feed the amount of grain (concentrates rich lu protein) that experience with each individual cow proves will make the largest yield of milk. The grain can UOTHA. be varied until the exact amount and ISU>. IO kind are fiord that will make ecc-h cr>-tf give the rno.*t milk. By feeding liay arwt -too Je- lirst and taking pains to that each cow is fed all that she will cat clean the necessary amounts of iiirestiUle dry matter, carbohydrates and fats are supplied from material rrised on the farm and the cow the fnll beneOt of the digestible pro tein !n the that has to be boivjht aud paid tor with ready money. The feed cf each of the twelve cows and its result up n the milk are noted In the bullctiu. A HARD PROPOSITION SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION OF THE FOURTH DIMENSION. To the Lay Mind It Woold Appear at Thoogh This Measure of Space Were the Ability to Disappear Through Stone Walls. Suppose a world consisting of a boundless flat plane to be inhabited by reasoning beings who can move about at pleasure on the plane, but are not able to turn their beads up or down or even to see or think of such terms as above them and below them, and things around them can be push ed or pulled about in any direction, but cannot be lifted from the plane. Peo ple and things can pass around each other, but cannot step over anything. These dwellers in "flatland" could con struct a plane geometry which would be exactly like ours in being based on the axioms of Euclid. Two parallel straight lines would never meet, though continued indefinitely. But suppose that the surface on which these beings live, Instead of be ing aa Infinitely extended plane, is really the surface of an Immense globe* like the earth on which we live. It needs no knowledge of geometry, but only an examination of any globular object—an apple, for example—to show that If we draw a line as straight as p;)! slble on a sphere and parallel to it draw a small piece of a second line. :> nd continue this in as straight a line as we can, the two lines will meet when wo proceed in either direction one-fjuarter of the way around the sphere. For our "flatland" people these lines would both be perfectly straight because the only curvature would be In the direction downward, which they could never either perceive or discover. To explain bypergeometry proper we must first set forth what a fourth di mension of space means and show how natural the way by which it may be approached. We continue our analo gy from "flatland." In this supposed land let us make a cross—two straight lines intersecting at right angles. The Inhabitants of this land understand the cross perfectly and conceive of it I Just as we do. But let us ask them to draw a third line intersecting the same •point and perpendicular to both the other lines. They would at once pro nounce this absurd and Impossible. It is equally absurd and impossible to us If we require the third line to be drawn on the paper. But we would re ply, "If you allow us to leave the paper •or flat surface, then we can solve the problem by simply drawing the third line through the paper perpendicular to its surface." Now, to pursue the analogy, suppose that after we have drawn three mutu ally perpendicular lines some being from another sphere proposes to us the drawing of a fourth line through the same point perpendicular-to all three of the lines already there. We should answer him in the same way that the inhabitants of "flatland" answered us: "The problem is impossible. You can not draw any such line In space as we understand it" If our visitor conceived of the fourth dimension, he would re ply to us as we replied to the "flat land" people: "The problem is absurd and Impossible if you confine your line to space as you understand It But for me there is a fourth dimension in space. Draw your line through that di mension, and the problem will be solv ed. This is perfectly simple to me; it is impossible to you solely because your conceptions do not admit of more than three dimensions." Supposing the inhabitants of "flat land" to be Intellectual beings as we are, it would be interesting to them to be told what dwellers of space in three dimensions could do. Let us pursue the analogy by showing what dwellers in four dimensions might do. Place a dweller of "flatland" inside a circle drawn on his plane and ask him to step outside of it without breaking through it He would go all around, and, finding every inch of It closed, he would say It was impossible from the very nature of the conditions. "But," we would reply, "that is because of your limited conceptions. We can step over It" "Step over it!" he would exclaim. "I do not know what that means. I can pass around anything if there is a way open, but I cannot imagine what you mean by stepping over it" But we should simply step over the line and reappear on the other side. So if we confine a being able to move In a fourth dimension in-the walls of a dungeon of which the sides, the floor and the celling were all impenetrable he would step outside of it without touching any part of the building Just as easily as we could step over a cir cle drawn on the plane without touch ing it He would simply disappear from our view like a spirit and perhaps reappear the next moment outside the prison. To do this he would have to make a little excursion in the fourth dimension. —Professor Simon Newcomb in Harper's Magazine. Hli Maiden Name. It is sald that at certain seasons in Scotland when the fishing is not very brisk the fishermen act as caddies and are easily recognized by their costume, a woolen Jersey and trousers braced up to the armpits. One of these was asked his name by the gentleman for whom he was carrying, and the reply was, "Weel, sir. hereabouts they malstly ca' me Breeks, but ma maiden name is Broon." HI. Early Lore A«alr. May—l wonder why Reggie never married. Jack—He had a love affair when quite young and has never got over it May—Who was the object of his af fections? Jack—Himself.—Harlem Life. Function, of Fruit. The Medicine Brief thus summarizes the various uses of fruit In relieving diseased conditions of the body. The list is worth keeping: Under the cate gory of laxatives, oranges, figs, tama rinds, prunes, mulberries, dates, nec tarines and plums may be Included. Pomegranates, cranberries, blackber ries, sumac berries, dewberries, rasp berries, barberries, quinces, pears, wild cherries and medlars are astringents. Grapes, peaches, strawberries, ■whortle berries, prickly pears, black currants and melon seeds are diuretics. Goose berries, red aud white currants, pump kins and melons are refrigerants. Lem ons, limes and apples are stomachic se datives.