Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, May 07, 1903, Image 1
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.