VOL. XXXX.
I NEW THINGS DAILY 5
SEPARATE SKIRTS AND SILK SPECIAL #
MORE MAGNIFICENT MILLINERY. £
THE MODERN STORE- £
Not ID cptrlt of wlf-praise. but appreciating ttje e.mtiilenoe of Uie public. «
tak<* pleasure in stutin* that tliU »KJri* Is dally serving » lam-r patronaire, a- l
evldeni-ed by lncrt-aslna atietnlanee and Without ilif blare of trump.!-. J»v
we have mane a obenoinenal record, and we prop-by honest >tn tltod*. a-- )■
sort meat and high <|.iallty. combined with small proHt Idea,, to keep up th«- i JT
we have wt. This is dist nctlvely a llry Goods J-tor-. and we K-.ieve that We ■ .in
serve you better in concentrating all our energies along tins line, than If we were w
to handle everything that could be put under o ie roof.
Separate Skirta. excellent line of Cloth Skirts from 75 to fn
(i Moha-r Skirts from $2 98 (special) to $9- Voile Skiits $5 to SlO.
•5 Wash Skirts $1 up. Sbirt WaUts —Whi'e Wash Wai.-ts in gr**nt variety
a Lawn, Linen M idras and Silk Wt
Special for this week—24 inch Japaue.se Foulard Silks in Isavy JQ
atnl Black Grvni.ils with neat white fi-iarts \ erv desirable fur Shirt y
fj Wast Suits 55c ya d 36 inch Good Bla -k Taffet* Silk SI yard
Vfc 36 inch Black Silk, made in Butler. Si 25
Our MlHin-ry I>ejartmei.t I* unsurpassed. All the leadliv_-styles and price?.'. Atl
m large a'J,n0....,1 ind ev, ry fa -llily to mVv- to or l. r wh-.. ye. w„.t. We don t(f
aim to lit your purse, linty .ir per* HI. and our h-'adw •ir Is ttic nu.t >itisf.i tory
Ub ou* IIIIT .if this Store Kvry detail must I. right, and our fa<-illtn-s for up-10-ilat.e g|
•5 roll liuery an- not excelled anywhere.
g Kisl r-\lardorl' Co.,
d SOTTTH MAIH STREET j r\r%i Mail or Phor.e orders promptly JP
8 EE&ffSS* and carefully filled. g
m CPrOSITE HOTEL ARLINGTON iH'TL R A. (#
FOOTWcAH-
A grand display of fine footwear in all the new styles.
The time of the year is here when you want a nice pair
of shoes or oxfords for summer wear.
-1 ox foruszl;
Our stock of Ladies'. Misses'
and Children's oxfords is com-
plete. Dongola, Velour-calf
and Patent-vici, with low.
medium or extra high heels.
Large assortmem of one, two,
three and four strap slippers,
1 adies' Fine Shoes —SOROS'S.
They are the extreme of fashion and the acme of common
sense and comfort, being constructed on scientific principles.
They are perfect fitting and satisfactory in every respect. The
very newest and most exclusive creations in SOROSIS styles
are now shown by us.
Complete stock of Gokey's hand made plain toe and box-toe
working shoes. High Iron Stands with four lasts at 50c. Sole
Leather cut to any amount you wish to purchase.
Repairing neatl> and promptly done.
JOHN BICKEL,
123 South Main St., BUTI-EK, PA.
ij r HUSELTON'S FOOTWEAR EXHIBIT
W
V Yv Women, Boys, Youths, Misses and "j
M (lW\r X Children's wear. Over five hundred kl
k ff) styles —no possible want but what
n we can meet to your taste.
A :S Boots, Oxfords, Slippers for
Is every and any service or occasion,
WA |l%l Mt»n"o S IOO - s ls °. S2OO- M
14 IHk 111UII O $2.50, $3.00 and up ii
| Women's |
fA pair, representing the highest M
|1 ;■ - i art in the manufacturing of Wl
r \ s h°es and shown in all de-
V xA strable leathers. FJ
WA iMf J Misses'7sc, sl, 1.25 & 1.50.
V A Y. Children's 25c, 50c, 75c &$1 WA
f & J' \ W Boys' 90c $1,1.25, 1.50, & $2. Li
. J Don't buy a shoe uptij ypvt J2
r h ave inspected our Spring ki
lines—now rj
I A HUSELTON'S ,OSI - gFOB W
k LOWRY. IIWVI.Ii I V»1 ASK TO BE FIT.
RECK
Spring Summer Weights
( V f\ T // "rt E Have a nattiness about tliero that
I fT# ftt a. (yE) / J mark the wearer, it won't do to
J \] Py!> 7 (<{ B-\ wear the last year's output. You
) / P won't get the latest things at the
( ; 1/ I\\ ~C/ wl stock clothiers either. The up-to
I li A rr\ Jit date tailor only tan supply them,
I ! 77777 I ( if you want not only the latest (J
111 in I I things in cut and fit and work
!/ 111 iianship, the finest in durability,
„-j) 1 j| ill vhere else can you get combina
* I I 1 111 [A • ions, you get them al
•KECK*
G. F. KECK, Merchant Taller,
2* North Main Street All Work Guaranteed Butler, Pa
WALL PAPER
WE HAVE IT.
LOTS OF IT THE LATESn
F W Devoe Ready Mixed Paints—All Colors.
Patterson Bros'
236 N. Main St. Phone 400. Wick Buildintr.
HAMMILL'S CELEBRATED INDUN ROOT TABLETS
t Greatest Kidney and Liver Remedy. Positive cure for Sick
Headache, 9onr Stomach. Loss of Appetite, Constipation
Rheumatism, Blood Purifier.
For Sale by all Druggists, or by mail, 25c, 50c, and SI.OO
HAMMILL MEDICINE CO,
No. 302 MILTENBERGER STREET, PITTSBURG, PENN'A.
Subscribe for the CITIZEN
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Nasal XSSrsV
CATARRH
In all iu BtAgcs. /p- %ft JUO/
Ely's Cream BalmC
c'.rAiises, »oothes and heals f a
tlie diseased membrane.
It cnrtucatarrh and drives M
soar a cold in the head
onickly.
Cream Balm is placed into the nostrils, spreads
over the membrane and ie absorbed. Kelieflsim
inedi.ite and a cure follows. It is not drying—does
not produce sneezing. Large Size, 50 cents at Drog
giate or by mai!; Trial Size, 10 cents.
ELY BROTHERS, 60 Warren Street, Xew York
Good
Ayer's Pills are good pills.
You know tiiat. The best
family laxative you can buy.
iWaat your moustache or bearJ
beautiful brown or rich black ? IV. .
Buckingham's Dye
loOctS-Of dfugg'tttor R P. HaJ'&Co., Na»hu«,N H
m
fl Johnston's
4 y*
Beef, Iron and Wine
fa \i
n ,st " U
7 A Rest Tonic ]
k 1 and *
Hi •<>! Turilier.
kl Price, 50c pint. ( A
L V Prepared and r 1
pfj scM only at 1 IB
s «
'4 Johnston s M
Crystal h
M Pharmacy. M
W J R. M. LOGAN, Fh. G , L'%
[fl Manager, 3 i
92 IC6 N. Main St., II a tier, Pa W
[ v Roth 'Phones vj
jrJ Everything in the
drug line, rj J
Do You buy Medicines?
• Certainly You Do.
Then you want the best for the
least money. That is our motto.
Come and see us when i:> need of
anything jn the Line and
we are sure you will call again.
We carry a full line of Drugs,
Chemicals, Toilet Articles, etc.
Purvis' Pharmacy
S. G. PURVIS, PH. G
Both Phones,
213 S. Main St. Butler PH.
Are you going to i
bit.d or remodel
Co^N'S.T"
■
II
Let as give you a figure on
the Plumbing and Gas Fitting
of your home.
WHITEHILL,
Plumber,
3t)l S. Main St.. Both Phones
jC. F. T. Pape, j
\ i
p 121 E. Jefferson Street. /
gOo 000o000o000o000ooOOOoog
| CRIME OF |
I THEJTRAMP §
o o
o 'By Leo Crane o
3 8
O Cvpi/rioht, 190!, by McClure't
O Xeu-tpaptr Syndicate O
OOOooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoco
It stood upou the banks of a gentle
river, a fishing village of great modes
ty. The morning sun would toss Its
beauties out upon the waters of a mild
lagoon. The roadways were of shells
that had been pounded into powder of
the whitest. Old fashioned cottages
lined the streets, their porches fes
tooned with climbing roses whose
sweet scent wedded the lavish per
fume of wandering honeysuckle and
set forth to meet the fresh smell of the
bay.
Fpon the shore was a little shipyard
all covered with chips and darkened
driftwood. Hotting ways bathed their
feet in the greenish water, and about
them played the children they had giv
en birth, a myriad of small boats upon
the sleeping waves. Oue of these be
longed to a higher caste than the oth
ers. There was a clean coat upon it,
and proudly it rode to a well made
mooring. When the breeze would
swing it slowly, the old man seated
upon a last stretch of the ways could
.read Its name.
"Mary!" he commented slowly, re
moving the pipe from his mouth and
puffing out a cloud of grayish smoke.
Then, turning to a man close by, he
nsked:
"D'ye s'pose why 'tis named Mary?"
"He's sweet on Mary Harte," said
the other without displaying a bit of
interest in anything save the chip he
was whittling.
"Oh!" remarked the old one, grinning
to himself and sticking the pipe back
into his mouth, proving a bit of senti
ment could not lure him from the hab
it. "Yere he comes now."
"He's got his oars along," said the
other, looking across the quiet space
of water. "D'ye s'pose he's goin' out?"
"Reckon so, but 'taln't lookin' much
out there on the bay. Gittin' a pesky
fog up, I'm thinkin'." And the old man
grunteid at the foolishness of It. "Why
in thunder don't he stay at home for
onct? O' late he's out on that stream
most o' his time."
"S'pose he wants to git married," sug
gested the companion, cutting a
section off the chip with a contemptu
ous flourish of the knife. "He's an
other one o' these danged fules. But
these youngsters -won't listen to no rea
son. There's that feller breakln' his
back summer an' winter, sunshine an'
bad weather, come better or worse, all
BO'S he can scrape enough together to
buy a peck o' trouble."
"I can't understand it," said the old
man, smoking up on his pipe.
"Well, I can see through it in a way,"
admitted the whittler meditatively,
" 'cause when I was young an' neces
sarily foolish I bad the same thing in
mind fer quite a spell. But Hank Jor
dan—ye know Hank—well, he gotter
ahead o' me an' married the woman.
Then I says to myself, 'l'll see what's
In this game,' says I. So, by jing. Hank
starts in to make a livin' fer a fambly
o' two, me bavin' a quiet, peaceable
time all the while, but 'fore he was
through he was workin' like a plow
horse in u muddy furrow, tryin' to
swim with six kffls' store bills on his
back. The on'y things I had to owe fer
durin' that same space o' time was my
terbacker an' one shirt, 'cause, ye know,
I'm not hard on clothes. But Hank
Jordan bought enough clothes to cover
a regiment, aa' while they'd be showin'
'em in the street Hank'd be sittln" in
the back yard, with a bit o' chalk an'
a board, tryin' to figger out how to
stave off the rent. I never could see
the sense o' it. In the las' nine years
I've on'y had the chilblains an' the
quinsy, but Hank Jordan had every
thing from mumps to milk rash—not
him, ye know, but them as he was
mainly responsible fer."
The man across the way tossed a
pair of oyster tongs down into the
clean boat and whistled for a ragged
looking dog playing about the town's
edge. Then, with It besldo him at the
tiller, he ran up the small sail and
steered out Into the mist of the river
marshes. An hour's run brought him
over the ledges, where with a sounding
splash the stone anchor was dropped,
and down, down, down, went the hun
gry tongs for the first clutch. Down
on the sandy ledges he hoped to find
his happiness and wrench it from the
bottom. There was a sclssorsllke mo
tion of the long arms, a twisting, tear
ing, sucking grapple of the teeth; then
up, up, up, came the swaying poles, the
water trickling back over the. hands
that hauled, and with a noisy clatter
the catch of grimy things was dumped
into the boat's bottom, and so on
through the long day, sometimes star
ing stupidly out over the gray shifting
desert at a passing steamer slowly
plodding up the channel or eying in
silent wonder a yacht sweeping silent
ly and swiftly by his little craft.
It was In the afternoon. The boat
was half filled with muddy shells.
"Lcmme see, Regs," said the man.
"What's the date terday? The 10th?
So it is. 'Tain't agoin' to be very long
now, Regs." He slowly counted a
number of deep scratches upon the
thwart. Some of them were crossed
over with a counter scratch. There
.were nine not tallied. He got out a
knife and rudely crossed another.
♦'Eight more days to wait," he mutter
ed—"eight more days."
"Then won't there be a fine time,
■liegsV" he commenced gayly. The dog
cocked his head sideways and whined
on appreciation. "The whole village 'll
talk o' It, an' the place 'll be fine. Goin*
to have Sam Lawder's house—that
new un—an' there'll be a sea scene
over the door an* a raft o' curiosities
on the mantel, 'sides rockin' chairs an'
so fey s an' all that sort o' thing. But,
say, Regs, denied if I ever see such a
fog as is gittin' up." The man peered
off into the dense yellow cloak that
had shut down upon him silent and
awesome. He pulled up the anchor
and started to row home.
The dull, monotonous clang of a light
house bell came at Intervals from some
where. He knew not exactly where.
He was getting bewildered in this
smoky cloud of fog. Then he rested
upon the oars, letting the boat drift;
and listened intently for the mysterious
note of the bell. It was farther off—lt
Seemed so—and which way?
Suddenly a strange, humming noise
reached him—wind or— He fished hur
riedly into a side locker for a horn and
sent two long, harsh blasts across the
unknown waters. A loud, swishing
sound could be heard, growing nearer,
above a babble of impotent noise. A
bell rang, and the hoarse cry of a siren
brought him terror. About the boat
were only the moving mass of cloud
land aud a few feet of lapping water
no heaven, no other thing but that,
motionless, and the sobbing noise. The
man screamed shrilly, feebly, "Aboard
there!"
Then a great, dense shape loomed up
BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, MAVjT, 1903.
out of the sea like a ruthless grasping
hand to crush him. Immense, terrible,
it towered a moment over the l>oat.
There was a crunch of splintering
wood, a weak excited bark of a fright
ened dog, a despairing wail from a
man, and a white wave of foam
dripped back from the beak of the mon
ster. It passed on with a rushing roar,
satisfied. A burst of clanging and
clanking came from the silence and
died away again. A belch of reddish
fire lighted for an instant the yellow
pall and then left it as before. The
thing dissolved like a ghost in the mist.
The waves churned for a moment a rag
of canvas. Then everything disap
peared, aud the silence settled down as
the quiet of eternity.
The whiteeapped waves raced and
tossed for a time, worrying some little
bits of splintered wood. Then they
began again the old, old chant, sighing
mournfully in tune with the twilight
breeze, slowly lifting the fog. Off in
the distance a single point of light
glimmered mistily, pointing the way
home. The winds told the tale to the
shores in the black watches of the
night.
An old man who had once again
claimed his seat by the rotting ways
fished from the tossing lips of the wa
ter a bit of board.
"What's this?" he asked of another
who occupied himself cutting a piece of
chip. They examined it curiously to
gether.
"Looks like the thwart o' a boat"
said the man.
"Ilere—here! What's them marks?"
pointing at a number of rude scratches
in the wood.
"I dunno," said the other, slowly
shaking his head in doubt. "Never
saw them on a boat's thwart before.
There's eight o' 'em not tallied. See!
Wonder if that's got anything to do
with it!"
Ckoua by Proxy.
The man whose long suffering sister
has always selected all his gifts for
friends at Christmas, on birthdays and
for weddings has recently passed
through an experience which makes
him feel that he must mend his ways.
Not long ago he went to pay a wed
ding call and expressed much admira
tion for the silver and china on the 5
o'clock tea table at which his pretty
hostess was pouring tea.
"Which cup do you like best?" she
asked him archly. "Tell me, and you
shall have your tea in it."
He looked helplessly at her and then
at the cups. "Oh, I don't know. I
think that Is the prettiest, perhaps,"
he said, indicating an eggshell cup.
"Your taste hasn't changed, then.
That is the one you gave me when
my engagement was announced," she
said gayly. And he endeavored to ap
pear comfortable, although he knew
his face WuS growing red.
Later on, as be rose to go, his hostess
said:
"What do you think of that picture
over the mantel? I've seen you look
ing at it a number of times."
"I wasn't looking at that," said this
luckless guest. "It's very fine, but I
was looking at the smaller one on the
left. It's a curious thing, isn't it? Yet
there's a sort of charm about it."
"I fancied you thought so when you
sent it to me for a wedding gift," said
the bride.—Exchange.
Aa Aato«riyh Copy.
The man who undertook to cross the
continent "on the hurricane deck of a
donkey" and earn his expenses as he
went was sure to have experiences
worth something to himself if not to
any one else. He had photographs
made of himself and the donkey. These
he sold for 25 cents each. At Yonkers
his purse was light, and his bills were
heavy. He said:
I resolved to rise at dawn and sell
enough pictures to pay my bills if I
had to sell them at cost. I set to work.
By 1 o'clock I had visited every shop,
store and Chinese laundry and was
talking hoarsely to a corner grocer,
who sat on a keg of mackerel sampling
limburger cheese. I offered a picture
for 15 cents, but the reduction in price
did not interest him.
"I vant not a picture at any price!"
he declared.
"I lack 15 cents of the amount of my
hotel bill," I urged. "I am In dire
straits."
His reply was weak, but the cheese
was strong enough to help him out.
My mental magazine had but a single
charge left, and I fired that.
"Isn't it worth 15 cents to know a
fool when you see one?"
"Y-e-e-e-s, I dink it ees," answered
the man, "and eef you vill write it on
the picture I buy him."—Youth's Com
panion.
A Pnlr of Cattish.
A pair of catfish that were continu
ously watched in a government aqua
rium made a nest by removing the
gravel from a corner. During the first
few days after hatching the fry, bank
ed in the corners of the tank, were at
irregular intervals actively stirred by
the barbels of the parents, usually the
male. Subsequently the parents were
seen to suck the eggs into their mouths
antl then extrude them with some force.
The predaceous feeding habits of the
old fish gradually overcame the paren
tal instinct. The tendency to suck the
fry into their mouths continued and
the inclination to spit them out dimin
ished. so that the number of young
dwindled daily, and the 500 that had
been left with their parents had com
pletely disappeared in six weeks, al
though other food was liberally sup
plied.
MeuiilntC" of BeT»ral Jiamesi.
Asia means morning or east; Kurope,
evening or west; Australia means lying
to or in the south; hence we may con
sider that these names mean eastern
land, western land and southern land.
Asia is a Greek word; Europe is a He
brew word: Australia is a Latin word.
The origin of the word Africa is uncer
tain. Some conjecture that It is a Se
mitic word meaning "Land of Wander
ers."
I T *infreeted.
Miss Speitz- of course, no one could
truthfully speak of her as pretty.
Mr. Lovett Well—er—perhaps not,
/nit she has such a quiet, unaffected
manner.
Miss Speitz—Yes, but it has taken
lier several years to acquire it.—Phila
delphia Press.
AsllliiK a (jood Deal.
"How about the rent of this house of
yours. Flitter? Doesn't the landlord
ask a good deal for it?"
Flitter—Yes: he often asks five and
i'x times a month for it.—New Yorker.
Proof I'aaltlve.
Miss {'!::<• . I I tell yo\ Miz' John
»imr. <1 ■* • i! ■ ,'.i »ateiit medicines hain't
no Yo : H n' i':;e been usin' dis
.ily i.aim f •<• > i>l '< fo' a yeah now,
in' it I' . . :m• nm v Exchange.
\ ' Ctl.
.Ton - ' '-r still?
j, - : r her Ucps him
»nt! ... ;i . . it'.- ixuusaa City
ludepCti... U\.
rvWENTME
S TIDE TURNED <
S By MARIE AVARY f
J Copyright. 1«E, by McClure's Newspaper \
\ Syndicate. f
The fresh sea breeze gave Acton
Davis a saucy "good morning" as he
sauntered out on the porch. It blew
Betty Fagan's yellow curls auriole wise
round her face. She looked up joy
ously.
"Lazybones, are you here at last?"
■he cried merrily. "I have been wait
ing for you for ever so long."
Davis sat down beside her on the
step and looked at her with good hu
mored tolerance as he said lightly,
"What do you want this morning,
child?"
The girl detected the superiority in
his tone. A flush rose to her cheeks,
and her voice had a plaintive ring aa
she said, ''Children are so unreasonable
and want so many things, don't they?"
Then, with swift return to her former
bantering: "These are my commands;
so read, mark, learn and inwardly di
gest, as the prayer book puts it. I
want you to promise to take me to
Hazard rocks this afternoon."
A shade fell on the man's face. She
went on hastily: "I've wanted to go all
summer, and now summer is almost
over. You promised you would take
me If I was very, very good, and, oh,
it will lie so lovely to scramble along
the shore and find long strands of
strange seaweed and come upon un
expected pools full of jelly and star
fish! Please take me. I will be good."
Her eyes were shining and her cheeks
pink with excitement as she bent to
ward him pleadingly.
The man hesitated as If fearful of
paining her by a refusal. He seemed
solely intent in watching the white
caps In their mad race for the shore.
Then he said brusquely: "No, I won't
take you. I ought never to have prom
ised, and so I take it back. You are
quite too foolhardy to venture in so
dangerous a place. You would be sure
to fall on those treacherous, slimy
rocks, and then there would be the
devil to pay. If the tide should catch
us, there would be no hope."
Betty's chin quivered like a child's,
and the tears were shining through her
long lashes.
Davis felt swift compunction for his
hasty words. "I honestly don't think
It's safe to take you, Betty, or I would.
Promise to forget about it, and we will
go for a sail on the Petrel or anywhere
else at your pleasure. Come, show me
that you can be a reasonable little
girl."
Betty might not have resented his
fatherly tone if a gay voice had not
rung out behind her:
"What are you two fighting about, as
usual? Give me an explanation." And
she laughed rather maliciously. It was
Mrs. Neville, the source of Betty's
heartaches for the last weeks.
The girl rose Impetuously. "I have
nothing to explain," she said Icily.
"Mr. Davis can tell you what he
pleases. It Is nothing to me."
Davis looked after her with a frown
of annoyance. It was reafty unpardon
able for Betty to behave so rudely.
She was too old for such childishness.
It was quite true that they had quar
reled almost constantly for the last
weeks; he forgot that it was only since
Mrs. Neville had appeared at the hotel.
The young widow sank back in a
rocking chair with a little laugh. She
looked unusually pretty this morning,
and as the man looked at her admiring
ly his frown faded. The full blown
rose was certainly more satisfying than
the thorny bud.
Mrs. Neville met his glance by a well
executed droop of her lashes. "Tell me
all about It," she commanded play
fully.
"Betty wanted me to take her to
Hazard rocks," Davis explained. "And
I would not take her because It Is so
dangerous a trip."
Mrs. Neville was all interest. The
Hazard rocks! She had heard about
them. Did people ever go there? And
was it all very romantic and exciting?
A look of daring flashed across her
face. She bent forward and gazed
straight into bis eyes. "Will you take
me there?" she asked softly.
Perhaps It was the glamour of her
dark eyes, the intoxication of her warm
breath on his cheek. The man grew
white. His voice was low and tense
aa he answered, "Yes; I will take you."
Betty did not appear at lunch. Again
Davis felt the strange pang of com
punction as he missed her laughing
chatter. He did not know that Mrs.
Neville had met her in the hall and ex
plained that, though the Hazard rocks
were much too dangerous a place for
children, It was quite permissible for
grownups, and Acton had promised to
take her.
The girl had drawn herself up to all
the slim height of her eighteen years
>nd turned away without a word.
Nor did he guess that when the two
strolled away an hour later a pair of
blue eyes watched them from behind
the half shut blinds, while slow tears
rolled down the pale cheeks.
The rest of the guests shortly depart
ed for an afternoon's sail. So present
ly Betty crept down, a forlorn llttlo
figure. As the afternoon waned, bring
ing no signs of the two, a vague fear
began to take possession of her. The
tide had begun to turn. Could it be
that they had failed to notice it? She
recalled Acton's words with a thrill of
fear, "If the tide should catch us, there
Would be no hope."
• ••••••
Mr. Acton Davis was not enjoying
!.is afternoon. The two had scrambled
along the foot of the cliffs until they
reached the half submerged pile of
rocks bearing the name of Hazard.
The man was gazing at the sea. He
could not forget the glint of tears in
Betty's eyes.
He turned suddenly to his companion
with a reckln-ss resolve to make the
best of the matter. Something In the
languorous depths of the dark eyes
seemed to fire his blood. With a swift
movement he :a light her to him.
But as his lt->s met hers a wave of re
pulsion, sudden as unexpialnable, made
him start back. As he did so he heard
the splash of water. A tiny wave was
breaking at his very feet. The tide
had risen.
With a cry of horror he sprang to a
higher point of rock and looked des
perately towf.rd the path over which
they had come. The waves were lick
ing hungrily at the base of the cliff.
Above the rock towered dark and
trackless. They were caught in a
deathtrap.
But he would nort give up hope. Some
fisher boat might be near. Again and
again he sent his voice ringing ont over
the tossing waters.
As the last echoes died away he
seemed tx> hear a faint answering hal
loo. Again his cry for help rang out;
again came the nearitig answer. A
boat shot from behind the point. A
single figure struggled ,wlth the oars.
It was a girl—Betty.
It seemed an eternity before she
ground the keel on the sand and he
had lifted in the almost unconscious
figure of his companion.
Then the two set to work at the oars.
Many a time they had rowed for a
prize, but this was a struggle with
death. The tide was rising higher and
storm clouds were gathering. If they
could win past the point to the quiet
waters of the bay, all would be well.
If not— Mrs. Neville huddled in a
heap in the stern watched their des
perate efforts with fear dilated eyes.
One great pull, another, and they
shot into the bay. They were saved!
As Betty ceased to feel the fierce
current tugging at her oars she fell
forward nervelessly.
She awoke to the dash of waters on
her temples. The boat was drifting
near the landing and Acton was pil
lowing her head on his arm. "I dared
not stop rowing before, dear," he was
saying humbly.
As he read the heaven of love In her
violet eyes he drew her close and
whispered, "You saved my life, my
brave little girl, and I did not deserve
it. for I have behaved like a brute."
She put up one little hand, blistered
and bleeding from her cruel exertlous.
and tried to stop his words. "It is all
right now," she said weakly. There '
was a smile of perfect content on her
face.
They had both forgotten Mrs. Ne
ville. but she still huddled In the stern
and looked longingly at the shore, too
white and shaken to think of love or ,
lovers.
A Reviewer's Protest.
We get accustomed to the pleasant
little ways of novelists and are some- j
times inclined to overlook minor sole- '
clsms when we remember that they are ,
all part of a praiseworthy effort to
please. But just now we feel called on
to protest against a prevalent practice !
that tends to get on the reviewer's '
nerves. The danger of using such j
phrases as "Such things might happen !
in a novel, but not in real life," or "As
they say in novels" should, one would
think, be sufficiently apparent to writ
ers of fiction. "If this were a novel," .
remarks an ingenious writer, "so and
so might have occurred, but in a narra- 1
tive of plain fact," etc. This sort of ,
thing has, of course, the sole result of
reminding the reader that he is reading
a novel, and if he has been beguiled by
the author into losing himself for a mo
ment the effect is at once dispelled.
Suppose Hamlet had taken the oppor
tunity to remark to his mother in the
closet scene, "Afterall, this is only a
play, you know!" . riut the person who
wrote under the name of Shakespeare
practiced the art that hides art (some
say the artist also), and he was far too
wary to remind his audiences that he
was imposing on their credulity.—Lon
don Post.
Gardenia* For aa Invalid.
Several years ago I found myself too
much of an invalid to be out in the gar
den sowing seeds and with no one at
my service who in my opinion could
be trusted to do it for me. A summer
without flowers was too dreary a pros
pect to be contemplated.
I secured a half dozen wooden boxes
about the size of common soap boxes
and had them sawed so that they were
each four inches deep. These boxes
were so small that when filled with soli
they could be easily lifted about. I
had the boxes filled with soil from the
•garden, and now imagine my comfort
as I sat at a table sowing my seeds!
There were no crami>ed limbs and ach
ing back, ss was usually the case when
I had sowed my seeds in the seed bed.
I had that year as fine a display of an
nuals as I ever had when the seeds
were sown In the. garden. In spite of
the fact that the weather did not get
trarm enough for it to be prudent for
an invalid to sit on the ground to
transplant them until between June 9
and 16.—Country Life In America.
The Cocksare Schoolboy.
Here are some examples of what the
British schoolboy can do when he tries
hard:
"John Wesley was a great sea cap
tain. He beat the Dutch at Waterloo
and by degrees rose to be Duke of Wel
lington. He was burled near Nelson
In the Poets' corner at Westminster ab
bey."
"The sublime porte Is a very fine old
wine."
"The possessive case is the case when
somebody has got yours and won't give
It to you."
"The plural of penny is twopence."
"Mushrooms always grow in damp
places, and so they look like umbrel
las."
The Mind Aarlug Sleep.
"During sleep," says an authority on
mental subjects, "the workings of the
mind are under no control, and yet It
seems to have a wonderful faculty of
building up and arranging scenes and
incidents. I remember once having a
vivid dream of going into a house the
furniture and inmates of which be
longed to the middle ages. So clear
was the dream that I had no difficulty
in recalling it, and then as I went over
each detail of dress, armor, jewelry, or
naments and oilier objects seen in my
vision I realized that everything I had
beheld was historically accurate—that
is to say, that probably In a fraction of
ji second my mind had conjured up a
scene to construct which, with the
same faithfulness to detail, while
awake would have taken me several
hours."
Marvelous Memories.
Among men noted for wonderful
memories were Milton, who was said
to lie able to repeat Homer; Professor
Lawson, who boasted that he could re
peat the whole of the Bible, except a
few verses; Lord Macaulay, who made
the same boast about "Pilgrim's Prog
ress" and "Paradise Lost;" Dr. Lerden,
a friend of Sir Walter Scott, who could
repeat an act of parliament on hearing
it read but once, and a London report
er. who took no notes, but could write
out an unexpected debate verbatim.
Henry Clay could not memorize a sin
gle stanza of a poem, but never forgot
a name, a face or an argument.
A Traliiliiic Table. •
"Friend of mine today," said Mr. Kld
iler. "was talking of coming here to
board."
"I hope." remarked Mrs. Starvem,
"you were pleased to recommend our
table and"—
"Sure! Told him it was just the
thing for him. He's a pugilist and
wants to Increase his reach."—Catholic
Standard and Times.
No Small Matter.
Mrs. Casey—Shure, an' when we
moved It tuk free furn'ture wagons.
Mrs. Clancy—Huh! It tuk t'ree dep
'ty sheriffs to move us.—Kansas City
Independent.
She's Hlaht.
She- I'm right because I'm right.
He—llow do you know?
Klu»—l'm right because I'm right. I
don't need to know.—PlTtsburg Ga-
I eette.
=
RAPE AS A FORAGE CROP.
It liai Hitch Fr*4lac V«l»» For Pm
tnrlnir Sheep and U*(i.
Rape is much like the Swedish tur
aip in appearance, but the root la more
like cabbage. The leav> large and
-mouth, the flowers brigY yellow, seed
IHHIS usually two Inches long, with seed
black and globular. The plant reaches
a height of from one and a half to four
feet, and the roots [tenetrate the soil to ,
a considerable depth.
The rape most used in America Is of
the wiuter or biennial variety. Dwarf
Essex or English Is the most widely j
cultivated. Dwarf Victoria has recent
ly given excellent results In New Eng
land ::ud the northwest. In this coui>- ;
try rajs' Is grown almost exclusively j
for soiling and summer and winter |
pasturage.
Uape is Itest adapted to rather cool. I
moist climates, such as prevail in por- I
THE WAVE PLANT.
tlons of Canada and the northern Unit
ed States. It can. however, be success
fully grown as a forage crop In many
of the warmer and drier sections.
In the northern states the biennial
rape will not survive the winter, hence
dot's not produce seed. In the south It
may be grown as a fall or winter for
age. Tl-e annual varieties used for the
production of oil form seed the first
year, but these kinds are not suitable
for forage.
In favorable seasons or with a small
amount of Irrigation excellent crops of
rape are grown in Wyoming. Montana,
the Dakotas and other states In the so
called seiularid region, and many In
stances are on record where good crops
have been produced without Irrigation
under conditions of drought so severe
as to cause the failure of corn and oth
er farm crops. In the middle south
rape cannot compete with crimson clo
ver for forage.
Throughout the northern states gen
erally seeding may take place from the
first week in May to the middle or last
of July, according to the season and lo
cality. In the south the seed may be
sown In September or early In October.
Under favorable conditions two to
three pounds of seed per acre will be
sufficient, and it will never be necessa
ry to use more than five pounds per
acre.—A. S. Hitchcock.
Box For Tytair Wool.
The accompanying Illustration will
give an idea of a tying box sketched by
an American Agriculturist writer: It
DETAILS OF WOOL TTINO BOX.
Is made of inch lumber. The boards
A A are hinged to a central board of
the same width and awing up and
hook to a head block C. after wool Is
laid on table. B Is of leather twelve
Inches wide, with silts to allow for
tying. This leather Is a foot longer
than the bottom board and has a bar
In end and a chain which Is brought
over and hooked on the hook In lever
D. This gives greater leverage, and
the notches in leg of horn hold It.
The Hen the Amerlean Bird. {
The hen is a sweet tempered, hard
working, productive creature. She Is
identified with our home life and our
domestic and national prosperity. She
lays $21),000,000 worth of eggs every
year, or four and a fraction eggs for
each individual in the land. When the
eagle Is loafing around waiting to steal
something to eat, the modest hen Is at
tending to business, and after a life of
activity, laying eggs, cackling, laying
more eggs and hatching little chicks,
she gives up her life that the American
boarding house may thrive and wax
fat. ,
A Practical Wee* War.
In Canada they begin at the begin
ning in the eradication of weeds. Dr.
Fletcher tells that in the schools of
Manitoba the children are taught to
know and name the thirty commonest
weeds on their fathers' farms and tell
whether they are yearly, two year or
many year plants.
Thluirn Tliat Are Said.
The southern farmer's garden Is of
ten located out In the Held somewhere
beyond the range of the chickens. Br'er
Rabbit first suggested this method, and
Satan suggested it to Hr'er Itabblt.
The farmer who raises hogs to the
full capacity of his farm will prosper
if he sells nothing but hogs.
The sheep man has plenty of time for
reflection. It is a business that doesn't
work a man to death.
The future lielongs to the laboring
man.
AMERICAN FORESTRY.
The Object of Oar Foreit Poller Is
the Mnlilna: of I'rosperoas Hoart.
President Koosevelt In a recent ad
dress before the Society of American
Foresters, a professional IMHIJ - of which
lie Is an associate declared
the forest problem to l>e In many ways
the mo.-t vital Internal problem of the
United States. The objet of our for
pst policy, he said. Is the making of
prosperous homes. This policy must
not !»• imposed UJMHI the |>eople. It
rtiu be effective only when the people
believe that it is wise and useful; that
It Is indispensable. The president
called attention to the close relation of
forestry to the mining industry In the
west, to the lumbering industry, whose
very existence depends upon the suc
cess of forestry; to the railroads and to
the grazing interests. Of the success
of forestry In this country he said. T
believe that the foresters of the United
Suites will create a more effective sys
tem of forestry than we have yet
Been''
Among other things. President Roose
velt said: "And now, lirst ami foremost,
you «-an never afford to forget for one
moment what is the object of our for
est policy. That object is not to pre-
No. 19.
serve the forests because they ar#
beautiful, though that is good in it*
self, nor because they are refuges for
the wild creatures of the wilderness,
though that, toe. is good in itself, but
the primary object of our forest policy,
as of the land policy of the United
States, Is the making of prosperous
homes. It is part of the traditional
policy of hoiue making of oar country.
Every other consideration conies as
secondary. The whole effort of the
government in dealing with the forests
must l>e directed to this end, keeping In
view the fact that It is not only neces
sary to start the homes as prosperous,
but to keep them so. That is why the
forests have got to be kept. You can
start a prosperous home by destroying
the forest 8, but you cannot keep It
prosperous that way.
"And you are going to be able to
make that policy permanently the policy
of the country only in so far as you are
able to make the people at large and,
above all. the people concretely Inter
ested in the results In the different lo
calities appreciative of what it means.
Impress upon them the full recognition
of the value of its policy and make
them earnest and zealous adherents of
it. Keep In mind the fact that In a
government such as ours it is out of the
question to impose a policy like this
from without. The policy as a perma
nent policy can come only from the In
telligent conviction of the people them
selves that it is wise and useful, nay,
indispensable.
" 'Forestry is the preservation of for
ests by wise use,' to quote a phrase 1
used in tny first message to congress.
Keep before your minds that definition.
Forestry does not mean abbreviating
that use; It means making the forest
useful not only to the settler, the ranch
er. the miner, the man who lives in the
neighborhood, but Indirectly to the man
who may live hundreds of miles off
down the course of some great river
which has had its rise among the for
est bearing mountains."
The Ccatrltafd lefSMtcr.
The use of the centrifugal separator
as a purifier of milk intended for re
tail trade has already reached some
commercial Importance. The disad
vantages of the method, as pointed out
by O. P. Ilunziker in a recent bulletin
of the New York Cornell experiment
station, are the time and cost Involved,
and especially the fact that skim milk
and cream when once separated do not
mix well and when reunited the cream
does not rise as abundantly as in fresh
milk. "As the consumer judges the
richness of milk largely by the amount
of cream that rises on it, he naturally
and unjustly regards centrifuged milk
as an article poor in fat and is un
willing to pay the price it is really
worth."
Expansion Spring la Wire PHelsß.
1 have used almost all kinds of de
vices for bracing the corner post and
have found all a failure to a certain
extent until I commented to use the
expansion spring, which takes all the
strain from the post In winter and
keeps your fence tight in summer, says
an Ohio Farmer correspondent. In
building a hundred rods of fence first
set the corner post good and solid; an
chor with stone three or four feet un
derground, which is far better than the
brace, using the expansion spring In
connection with each wire every twen
ty-five rods. At the end pf fifty rods
set another post and anchor one way to
draw the first fifty rods, as that is as
ursT/f/nr- /7/UT/fjtzr
CP I?TTTXI'Ij I Tft°*
COILED SPUING IN WIRE FKNCK.
much as can be drawn at once, one
wire ut a time. When each wire is
drawn tight enough to cause the
springs to expand a half inch between
each coil, it is tight enough. Fasten
the wire, remove the ratchet, and the
same with each wire. When you hare
finished the first half, fasten the wires
to the middle i>ost and go aheatf with
the last the same as the first, placing
the springs twenty-five rods apart,
using the ratchet for tightening the
wires; fasten the wires to your posts,
then place stays of some kind to keep
hogs from spreading them apart. This
is one of the best methods for using
straight wire that any farmer can try.
The cut shows mode of building and
anchoring; C P, corner posts.
Slaughter House Br»ro4«c4l.
Some of the uses of byproducts of
slaughtered animals; The blood Is used
for the production of albumen, the
bones for knife handles, toothbrush
handles, chessmen, etc.; the horns for
combs, backs of brushes, large buttons,
etc.; the hoofs for buttons, ornaments
and fertilizers. Neat's foot oil, extract
ed from the feet, has a high commer
cial value. The fat is used for glycer
in and butterin. Gelatin, glue, pep
sin and other articles are obtained
from slaughtered cattle and sheep.
The value of such articles made every
year represents many millions of dol
lars.
Children and Growth.
The year of greatest growth In boy«
Is the seventeenth; in girls, the four
teenth. While girls reach full height
In their fifteenth year, they acquire full
weight at the age of twenty. Hoys are
stronger than girls from birth to the
eleventh year; then girlß become supe
rior physically to the seventeenth year,
when the tables are again turned and
remain so. From November to April
children grow very little and gain no
weight: from April to July they gain
in height, but lose In weight, and from
July to November they increase greatly.
In weight, but not In height.
A nrUnion That Grows.
The idea that
"played out" would be a dangerous one
for statesmen to bank upon. It lsn t.
Mohammed began his career as a
prophet more than 000 years later than
the beginning of the Christian era. At
present he has 17t1.000,000 disciples,
more than one-tlilrd as many as there
are Christians in the world.
Nine hundred years ago there were
In India no Mohammedans. Now there
are 50,000,000, and they are increasing
in number constantly. They are by all
odds the most energetic subjects in
British India.
The western wave of Mohammedan
ism rolled up to the farthest corner of
Spain, up to the walls of Vienna, and
then began to recede, but the shrink
ing process was accompanied by ex
pansion elsewhere. In Africa Moham
medanism Is steadily proselyting. Rus
sia in Europe has 3.000,000 followers of
the prophet, more than there are In
what Is called "Turkey In Europe."
Asia, however, the realm of future
growth, is the Mohammedan strong
hold. To less than 4.000.000 native
Christians there are 109,000.000 Mo
hammedans.—New York World.