Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, August 13, 1908, Image 3

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    : Nor AnyOtheiS
Creature.
( By lna Wright Hansorv. S
uooKiug ui> fro" 1 a l° n g drawn reverie
before the unfinished picture on my
easel, 1 saw lolantbe beaming at me
from the doorway.
"Come on!" she cried. "Put up your
work and come with me into the coun
try. I believe you don't even know it
Is May day. Don't you remember 'the
month of May, when the air is so full
of sweetness and love that even one
shaving begins to feel an affection for
another shaving?' Come, let us a May
ing go."
"I can't," 1 answered. "I'm up
against it. I'm crowded to the wall.
I'm broke."
lolanthe laughed—the sweetest sound
in this wise old world.
"I had f.n intuition so. but that
doesn't matter. This is iny treat. You
see, Isabel 1> ry took me to dinner yes
terday, so I have enough to take us pic
nicking today. Come, brave knight,
put on thy hob and hasten."
I hastened No one could resist lo
lantbe. 1 li t-!; her little covered bas
ket, and we went s:'ong the ball and
down the stairs, with mock-doleful :
wwian yfl.i foil twit '' US froul OUT fellow
workers, who • e : ; '' '' out into
the blosomir.g '. y y \ < rid.
"What car . <• we • to take?"
I asked as We r ched t!:e street.
lolanthe bin m 1 de'. •> !y.
"We are not h t>t :■ a car. You
see, I got so inter; ted i•: l aying a
scrumptious' Innch ths.t 1 -got about
the car, and" —
"I see," 1 said gravely "And you ;
don't know 1 w glad I am that we are
t i walk It is so much healthier. ;
Then we won't have t • mingle with
the plebeians on a comm m ear. When
rich aristocrats like us"—
lolanthe glanced up at lae rather
-harp'y, I thought. It couldn't be that j
-he knew—of course she couldn't know. :
No one knew but my uncle's lawyer '
and myself, and maybe my uncle. I
wondered if my uncle did know in ;
that unknown country be had lately I
entered. By and by I should tell lolan- j
the that, wlii'4 the preliminaries were
over, I should have enough money to
buy her everything she wanted, even !
!f on this blithe day I had not a pen- j
WE ATE OUR "SCRUMPTIOUS" LUNCH.
uy, and all due to a never known rich
old uncle, now dead, But lolanthe was
proud, so first I would win her prom
ise—win it while she believed me poor 1
as herself.
Purity and courage and gentleness
and beauty—that was my iolanthe.
Mine? Ah, when our May day was
over, should I be calling her mine?
"Who are you today?" she asked,
stopping tn till her lungs with the
buoyant air.
We bail a habit of playing we were
other folks w hen wo went 011 these ex
cursions— childish uo doubt, but we
were never going to grow old, we said,
so It was 1M st to be children a IOIIS
time.
"Why, I n:.i King < '■ >i>lietu.i." 1 au-
MVfiv.i |iroi! pt!\, with a great Inflat
ing of my kingly chest and throwing
bad: ..f my I- ingl. bead as we walk
ed on.
"Her arms across licr l.rcast she laid;
Shi. was moru fair than words can say.
In robe anil crown the king stept down
To meet and greet lier on her way."
"Who are you today. lolanthe?"
"It's a pretty .story," she mused, not
answering my question, "but suppose
it were turned around. Suppose that
it were Queen Cophetua and the beg
gar man. Would he be good and let
i»or lnv<- t0...•> Atirt woulil |». i u . will
ing to sit ou the throne with her?"
"Oh, that's different!" 1 said. "Of
course a man could not take favors
from a woman. The beggar man
would have togo out Into the world
and win his fortune. lie couldn't take
it from his queen. You know he
couldn't, don't you. lolanthe?"
"No, I don't know anything about
it," she said a l it crossly. Hut lolanthe
never could stay cross long enough to
make It pay, so in a moment she was
talking merrily cgaln.
Presently we reached the spot we
were bound for, a spot of sun and
shade and running water and new
spring flowers. We ate our "scrump
tious" lunch, and then we sang and
talked and had long spells of social
silence, and all the while I was won
dering how I should make her say
"yes" if at first she happened to say
"no."
"I am going to tell you a pretty
srory," she remarked after one of
these silences. "It's a true one too. I
am invited and so are you. and you'll
go, won't you?"
"Oh, sure!" I answered recklessly. 1
"Where?"
"A reception tomorrow evening to
meet the richest girl you e«*er saw.
She has so much money she doesn't
know what to do with It all, but folks
have just found It out. She bH pre. j
tended to be poor for reasons.
both going because you said you
would."
"I would do anything or go any
where to please you, little girl," I I
answered with so much meaning that j
lolanthe flushed and her dear eyes !
wavered before my gaze. I don't know |
quite how it happened, but suddenly I |
had my dream in my arms—my unre-;
slsting, perfect, red lipped dream—and
I was quite mad with delight.
Then presently she cried out tnat I
must never let anything come between
us
* —i
~ t*
" 'Nor height nor depth nor any otner
creature,'" I said reverently.
" 'Nor any other creature,'" she re
peated after me and made me say it
! every little while all the rest of that
wonderful day, and I did not tell her
about my fortune after all. though I
had intended to. When you come to
think of it. money is a sordid thing to
discuss when two folks are quailing
nectar aud nibbling ambrosia.
| The next evening I went to the re
ception and was presented to the lady
of riches. It seemed to me that all the
| room bushed its breath and waited
while we two went through what was
i required of us. It seemed to me that I
lived an eon before we were free from
the great eye of the room and in some
place where there were a splash of
water and quiet and heavy perfume of
i flowers. There i:i the dim light she
stood, slender as nn English laburnum
tree, swaying in her yellow silken robes
i toward me. Iler hands, weighted with
Jewels, were held out to me. Her
mouth that I had kissed was smiling
at me—was saying:
1 "'Nor any other creature!'"
I stood there staring at this wonder
ful new lolanthe, and all I could think
j of and all I said was:
•Tare? oted came the bog-Tar maid,
r -: iv the king Coplietua!"
TThr li. considering the circum
stan •!•<. coiiid hardly have been more
| absurd.
lolnnthe's laugh r:;ng out; then she
came closer ine, v.: ' her eyes grew
: very grave.
"Dearest," she whi ;■"!> !. "I was too
rich to be happy, ni ' so [ ran away
from everybody an 1 went to work in
the studio. I wanted to accomplish
something. 1 \ 1 IV 1 to say. 'She
is a great paint' : : 'Mi •is the rich
; est girl in the country." Then 1 found
you, and—and I diu .'t .. sv try more
for fame, b ::use 1 vvai something
greater, love—your i ive—and—you said
'Nor any other creature,' you know
j you did!"
"And meant it. too, my angel!" I ex
claimed, coming out of my tra ice and
taking her hands in mine. "You shall
give me nil the inonej you liink I
; need, and 1 will sit on the throne with
; you like a good little man."
"I am so glad you are goin? to be
sensible!" she said fervently.
And then 1 had to explain to her
| why I was laughing.
The Frozen Grail.
I TTo Command r P arv and tils band !
Why sing tin. legends of the Holy Oral!.
The dead crusaders of the sepulcher.
While those men live? Are the great
bards all dumb?
| Here Is a vision to shake the blood of
song
j And mako Fame's watchman tremble at
his post.
| What shall prevail against the spirit of
man
; When cold, the lean and snarling wolf of
I hunger.
j The threatening spear of lee mailed soli
tude,
j Slleneo and space and ghostly footed fear
Trevall not? Dante in his frozen hell,
j Shivering, endured no bleakness llko the
void
I Theso men have warmed with their own
flaming will
And peopled with their dreams. The wind
from fierce
Arctums In their fact's, at their backs
The whip of the world's doubt nnd In
their souls
Courage to die—lf death shall be the price
Of that cold cup that shall assuage their
thirst.
They climb and fall and stagger toward
the goal.
• They lay themselves the road whereby
they travel
And sue God for a franchise. Does he
watch
Behind the lattice of the boreal lights"
7n that grail chapel of their stern vowed
iiuest.
Ninety of God's long paces toward the
north.
Will they behold the splendor of his face?
To conquer the world must man ren .:neo
tho world?
These have renounced It Had ye only
faith
Ye might move mountains, said th>- N /
arm'
Why, t! t-se have fal'.h to move (he ines
of man
Out to t hi- point where all and n< filne
mi'i
They catch the bit of Ileath ! tW'-t-n
in one wild <!ash to trample the uakn v/n
Hvi-n i .lefv the S"ntin< I that tr r'
The <' ■ : •: the 112 .rbicMen -dared t) hurl
'
t:, ken
t'nlT ! > v> i• ■ tjc"< The •• ft: ~t I '-i
The 1 •0 * r of this quest lis lull 11.
world
True to Its i lMt for a million year:?.
And t ' a.I lie fail? They i-v. r fall wlv.
light
Their lamp ot faith at the itmvnv. ring
flame
Turnt for the altar service of the race
Since the I -tinning. He shall find the
strange—
The white immaculate Virgin of »!ia
North,
Whose steady gaze n<i i: --r ta I ever i'- r.-d.
Whose icy hand no human over grasped,
in the dread silence and the solitude
She Walts and lister s through the cen
turies
For one indomltal 1 • ?nr-rl soul,
Ilorn t-i endure the g: of her eyes
And lift his warm I!: s to the fn ren
grail.
—Elsa Barker In New T<- Times.
Tribute to "Uncle R i. JS."
An old Georgia il.'t; of •■( • '
ole Renins," Joe! Chandler 11 itTls. the
author, wiio die! recent!?
"None er us ol' time foil. .• -r !.ri>!
tor ax him fer anything. K: v.,- f ve:i \
him an' ho seen us ou de street oi !
wliar his house wuz la- always 1 a
piece or money fer us, haze I •"
I oil we needed if. an' lie c t
; how we wuz Kltlln' "
'peate:- take de 1 igges' sort •• m
trusi in i :r eomin's an' our (.v. , <
ou. lie lies liacliully ktiowed us :
seuce de time Wen freedom fust broke
out. Par's lots er good folks In de
wort', but (ley ain't no mo* des iak' j
him!"
Gold Tassels For Women's Umbrellas.
Following on the craze for little golil
anil silver tassels for neckwear for
women and as trimming for blouses
trad costumes of every kind comes
"lUite a new departure to lighten up
the funereal aspect of umbrellas. To
improve the look of these Indispensable
but often far from ornamental ar
ticles, gold and silver tassels to match
the handles are being made In London
Bismarck's Appetite.
Bismarck, the Iron Chancellor, had
an enormous capacity for eating and
drinking. lie once told a friend that
the largest number of oysters he ever
ate was 175. He first ordered twenty
live; then, as they were very good,
fifty more, and, consuming these, deter,
mined to eat nothing else and ordered
another hundred to the great amuse
ment of those present. Bismarck was
then twenty-six and had Just returned
from England.
\ Settlement <
| In Full.
) By LULU JOHNSTON. \
\ Copyrighted, 1907, by N. E. Daley. /
Dick Staley, perched on a rurmiuie
»rate, looked disconsolately at Billy i
Elaine, who was regarding the wall i
paper and trying bard not to laugh, j
In spite of Blaine's efforts the twitch j
tng corners of his mouth curved, and
as he met Staley's eye be exploded in
a roar of laughter which served only
to deepen Staley's gloom.
"Laugh, confound you!" growled Sta
ley. "It's funny to you. It's not so
funny to me. I've got to get this place
settled in five days, and upon my soul
I dou't know what to do first!"
"The first step is easy," chuckled
Blaine. "Get a man into scrape the
walls. The paper is the worst I ever
saw."
"It looked all right in the book," said
Staley defensively. "It was the pret
tiest thing in the whole book of sam
ples."
"It may be all right in a sample,"
admitted Blaine, with another glance
at the flowered monstrosity, "but there
is only one square yard of the sample.
It looks different, Dick, when you have
a roomful of it."
"I know it," admitted Staley. "but
that doesn't help matters. It only
servos to make them worse. I want
ed to surprise the matter by bringing
her to her own home instead of tak
ing her to a hotel. She bates to give
up her old home, and I wanted to
make the change as easy as possible."
The smile died from Blaine's face at
the allusion to Mrs. Staley. lie was
Dick's chum, and he knew how tender
ly Dick loved the gentle faced woman
wb i within the month bad lost both
husband aud daughter. Now she was
coming to live with Dick, and for
weeks be had planned to take an
apartment that she might not feel too
keenly the loss of the home that bad
been hers since marriage.
"I'll tell you what we'll do. Dick,"
suggested Blaine. "I.et's go downtown
for some lunch. I'll phone Nell for one
j of those professional fixers for you.
She knows a crackerjack, a girl who
; used to move in good society and
whose father lost his money. She
knows what's what aud how to do It,
and Nell will get her to do it for you."
Dick patted his chum on the liacU
while his eyes glistenc d. Nell Blaine
"COMPLETS V" sire isr N>, NOT QRN-I
C ATCUINO nis MEANING.
was the most accomplished matron of
his acquaintance. She would extricate
hiia from ids trouble. Together they
left the apartment, and while Staley
ordered lunch Hilly Hlaine hung over
the telephone in the restaurant.
"She'll bring her over tonight at 8."
reported lilily as he took his peat.
"Eat with a good appetite and con
sider yourself settled already."
Billy's words restored confidence,
and when [tick Staley met Marion
Wadleigh that evening his last doubt
vanished. The girl did uot laugh at
his blunders nor even at the wall pa
per. She listened with sympathy and
took from her chatelaine the tablets on
which to make note.-- «'f what she
wanted. With increasing admiration
Staley followed her through the vari
ous rooms, noting the quick, business
like way i:i which she condoned his
errors and approved his successes.
"I can do it over in four days," she
said briskly when she had shut up her
memorandum book and returned to the
parlor where Nell Blaine, Billy's sister
in-law, still siit in rapt admiration of
the garish wall paper. "Suppose, Mr.
Staley, that you drop in here Friday
afternoon? Then you can suggest any
last changes you wish made, and the
plaeo trill ""odv for your mother
Saturday evening. Snail ; i_- 1
"Can your' Staley had heard or tne
servant problem, and lie had worried
greatly. This businesslike girl offered
| even to take that trouble < ff his hands,
lie was rapidly coming to regard Mar
; lon Wadlelgh as a tailor mule angel.
lie dropped In the next morning on
i his way to the office and found a pa
per hanging crew already installed,
removing the paper that had proved so
j disappointing. Marion was there in a
gingham apron even more becoming
than the cloth costume of the night be
fore. and Hick's heart beat faster in
1 answer to her greeting.
There was something "homey" in
her appearance that appealed strongly
! to the man who for years had enjoyed
but tin occasional glimpse of home in
vacation time. The soft dark hair was
hidden by a cap and the piquant face
fas flushed with exertion, but the
heightened color only added to her
beauty, and the cap did not shadow
the tender light in the brown eyes.
Hick wont to his office with his head
in a whirl. Kver since he bad come
to the city he hail sunk himself in
work. Fortune had come his way rap
idly. and np to the present he had
'ound work all sufficient. Now he be
gan to realize that the years had been
lonely.
Marion was not at the house when
he dropped in the following morning,
nor did he see her again until Friday
afternoon, when he went to make his
final inspection of her work.
Hick gasped as he entered the apart
ment. In place of the gaudy paper
tile walls were now covered with quiet'
tones and the flowered carpets had
been exchanged for rugs whose soft
tints harmonized with the new paper. |
Instead of the solid offlcelike furniture:
were lighter and more tasteful pieces, I
and the whole apartment suggested a
feminine presence.
Best of all, Marion Wadleigh was 1
had been ex
cr.augeti fur an arternoon costume,
anil Immediately Dick decided that aft
er all a print dress was not the most
becoming costume which Marlon could
wear, though that had been his impres- !
sion since he had seen her last.
Quietly she moved about the place,!
giving an nccotint of her expenditures,
and Dick followed, hearing only the
rich voice, full tones, without carina
what she said. At last the tour of
the rooms was ended, and she return
I ed to the parlor
j "If you like." she said, "I can buy!
! the material for dinner tomorrow and
be here to welcome Mrs. Staley when
she arrives. Mrs. Blaine wanted to
come over, but she had to leave town
last night with her husband."
"I should be delighted If you could
arrange to be here tomorrow," said
Staley. "I am sure that my mother
will wish to add her thanks to mine
for the beautiful home you have pro
vided. You will stay to dinner?"
"I ouly suggested being here to wel
come her," said Marlon, her face flush
ed. "You see—ln business—it is best
to maintain strictly business relations.
You don't have to thank me for what
I have done. My charges cover all
services, you know."
"But money could not pay for pull
ing me out of a bole and settling me,"
Insisted I>ick. "Besides, I don't want
to maintain a purely business relation
ship unless you insist, Miss Wadleigh."
' I don't insist," the girl answered
softly. "1 have been much Interested
in your devotion to your mother, and I
am sure that I shall lie glad to know
her better She must be a dear old
lady to deserve such affection."
'•I want you to know her very well,"
explained Dick. "You see you have
only partly settled mother. You have
provided her with :t home, but 1 want
a home of my own, and I want you to
furnish it complete."
"CompleteV" she asked, not quite
catching bis meaning.
"Eveu to a wife," explained l>iek. "1
don't ask an answer now, but will you
consider the proposition?"
"As a business woman I have always
considered propositions," she said,
with a laugh, I tit the look in her eyes
be!lei the briskness of her words, and
I tic k realized that when they should
know HI II other better there was a
prospect of being settled "in full," as
he termed It some months later when
he placed a solitaire on Marion's finger.
FINED A FRANC.
Whet That Meant to an American Who
Was Living In Paris.
When you are fined a franc In Tarla
It means that you pay 12 francs 73
centimes, or just over half a sovereign,
i This is the only conclusion to which
one can come after reading the curl- ;
ous experience of an American citizen
who is slaying" In f'nrls to complete
the education of his sons. He lives !n {
an apartment near the Arc de Tri- |
omphe, and the other morning one of j
his servants committed the lrnpru- '
dence of shaking a carpet out of the |
window after ii o'clock. A lynx eyed |
constable saw her and immediately '
climbed the stairs, rang the liell, en
tered the apartment and drew up a ;
summons against the tenant. The j
American was called and gave his j
name.
"I did not know it was a breach of
the law," he said. "But ns I have
IITOK I it 1 must pay. How much is
it?"
"You will L>e fined 1 fraric." replied
the policeman.
"There you are," answered the
Americai), and he held out the coin.
But the "aßent" refused to take it.
"Later on,"he remarked as he with
drew, "you will lie summoned before
the Justice of the peace."
Some days later the delinquent was
invited to appear before the "Juge de
puis" and obeyed the summons. lie
was obliged to wait three hour? in an
antechamber. Then he was admitted
"Do yon admit." asked the mngls-
trate, "having broken the law?"
"I do," was the reply.
"Good. You are fined 1 franc."
"There you are, then." Ami the
American again held out the franc.
But the magistrate woulil have uoni
of it.
"Yon wIU |ay the sum later. Vou
will be advised when. You may with
ilraw."
The American took his departure
considerably surprised at so many for
maHties in connection with a franc
line. A few days later lie received a
stamped paper Inviting him to pay.
first of all, 1 franc, the amount of his
fine, plus 25 centimes, tlie amount of
the declines, plus 11 francs 48 cen
times, the amount of the costs, making
in all a total of 12 francs 73 centimes.
The American paid, but as he left the
police court he remarked:
"In America a law which forced a
citizen to pay §l2 when he had only
been fined £1 would be considered a
hypocritical and dishonest law. And
we would not tolerate it long, you
bet!"— London Globe.
Sure to Get On.
"Mr. Spudlong," began the youth,
hanging his hat on the back of the
chair, "I will occupy only a few mo
ments of your time. I have come to
ask you for your daughter. I"
"Young man," said the elderly bank
er, "do you"—
"Yes, sir. I realize fully that she has
been tenderly nurtured and that she is
very dear to you; also that her home Is
one in which she has been surrounded
by every luxury. But she is willing to
leave it."
"Can you"—
"No, sir; I can't quite maintain her
in the style to which she has been ac
customed, but 1 hare a good salary,
and I am ready to chance It So is
she."
"Will you"—
"Yes, sir; I will keep my life Insured
for a sum sufficient to provide for her
If I should be taken away."
"Would you"—
"No, sir; I would not expect to live
with the family. I am able to buy and
furnish a modest home for her."
"Young man," said Mr. Spudlong,
looking at his watch, "I rather like
your style. You can have her. Good"-
"Morniag, sir."—London Express.
Experiment With Partridges.
The state fish and game commlsslor
of Connecticut recently leased 70C
acres of land on Pratt hill, near Win
sted, as propagation grounds for nun
garlan partridges. There are many
excellent covers, and the state's experi
ment Is expected to prove a success.
BATTLEFIELD PANICS. 1
Odd Events That at Times De- J
moralize Veterans.
HORRORS INCIDENT TO WAR.
Two Terrifying Episodes That Oc
curred During the Franco-Prussian
Campaign—Madness May Seize Even
the Most Hardened Troops.
It is a peculiar circumstance that j
hardened and trained troops will go !
through a long fight surrounded by j
ail the horrors that are inseparable
from war without flinching and with
the utmost apparent callousness and
the same men will bo struck terrified
by a single trifling Incident.
Every war of any Importance, par
ticularly wars between civilized na- |
tions, Is prolific In incidents of trivial j
character in themselves, but so un- j
usual and unnatural that they appeal !
to the natural instinctive horror of
men more suddenly and intensely than
perhaps the main terrors of days of
carnage. Such an incident is the one,
for example, which occurred at the
battle of Worth, In the early days of
the Franco-Prussian war.
in the heat of the great battle a j
wing of the Prussian army was charg- '
ed by the regiments of French euiras- |
siers in the hope of turning the wing J
and facilitating the falling back of the |
French infantry. But the cuirassiers j
wore driven back by the unflinching ■
Prussians. Again the cuirassiers i
charged, and again they w ere driven j
back by the withering fire.
For a third time they came down i
again, and as tho enemy waited for
them to draw nearer a horrible, blood !
freezing terror seized the Prussians, |
and for the moment it looked as if j
they would turn and fly or bo cut |
down without defending themselves, j
But in a moment they had pulled J
themselves 'ogetlier and beaten back
for the third and last time the gallant
cuirassiers.
The sight that terrified the Prussians
appears nothing very much In black
and white. It was a regiment of cui
rassiers led at a dashing rate toward
them by a headless officer sitting up
right in his saddle and apparently en
' cohraging his men. It was no less
a person than Futzum de I.nscarre of
the Third regiment of cuirassiers,
whose head had lieen carried com
pletely off his shoulders as the troop
broke Into the third desperate charge
; by n cannon ball, which also took off
another officer's hand and cut the
j bugler In two.
It is remarkable and singular that at
j the battle of Forbach, which took
i place the same day as Worth, a very
J similar incident occurred and did more
J to shake the nerves of the Germans
j than hours of roaring cannon and
j fighting had done.
' While n regiment of Prussian infan
try were standing in reserve watching
the fight as well as they could from
their position of shelter a charger be
longing ton French dragoon regiment,
one which was practically destroyed In
the battle, galloped right Into the midst
of the men, who rushed to arrest it
and immediately fell back In alarm,
for swinging to the bridle was the
whole left arm of the charger's rider,
the fingers of the hand firmly grasping
the reins. The arm appeared to have
been severed a few inches below the
shoulder and was certainly that of an
officer, but who the officer was has
never been satisfactorily established.
So moved were the hardened men of
battle at the horrible sight that no one
would touch the horse, and the animal
T-as allowed to gallop off to be killed a
few minutes later in crossing before
some Prussian guns. Thrilling its the
Incident was, many of the brave fel
lows who witnessed it declared that
their first, almost Irresistible, impulse
was to throw down their arms and i
bolt. Yet It was with the help of just
such men that General von Golien
routed the French that memorable day
In August. IS7O.
It Is a well known fact that the
finest anil bravest troo;>s the world can :
produce have uo Immunity from that ;
strange and mysterious madness known
to military history as "war panic." A
heavy war. ' frequent sanguinary en
gagements, night marches and sur
prises sometimes play havoc with sol
diers' nervous systems and render
them more like high spirited colts than
men who have taken the field prepared
to suffer immeasurable horrors and
take death cheerfully.
During the peninsular war two Brit-
ish regiments, the very pick of the
army and seasoned veterans, were
marching along in good order when a
rumor rau down the lines that the ene
|my was at hand. The next moment
the line of orderly soldiers was changed
I into an elongated mob of armed men
throwing away arms, baggage and all
they carried, running away in every
direction, blind terror In their hearts,
their faces blanched and their ears
deaf to the thundered commands of
their officers.
For the moment they knew but one
sentiment, one emotion, a sudden, pas
sionate, blind terror, and they fled
without thinking whether they were
running into the arms of the thing
they dreaded or not. It was a terror
j that was madness, and only its mad
ness redeems it from dishonor. If
anything were necessary to demon
strate the unnaturalness of the panic
It would be done by the grand fact that
the moment It became known that the
enemy was really at hand the men in
stantly fell In and showed the utmost
eagerness to attack.
Such war panics are mysteries
Even the most experienced military of
fleer cannot satisfactorily explain them
Classified.
One-t'ilrd of the fools In this country
think they can beat the lawyer in ex
pounding the law, one-half think they
can beat the doctor at healing the sick,
two-thirds of them think they can beat
the minister In preaching the gospel,
and all of them know that they can
beat the editor In running the newspa
per.— London Tit-Bits.
Shameless.
Persons belonging to the higher
walks of life are to be seen promenad
ing In short jackets and chlmnefpot
hats without the slightest symptom of
awkwardness or shame.— London Tat- '
lor and Cotter.
11.
NOTES
C.MDARMTZ /^^iA
RIVERSIDE , '/ r \
COKKtSPOVDCNCX
SOLICITED U/\ \o_f
l' " 1
CHOLERA,
"Chicken cholera" is as great a
household phrase as liniment is a rural
cure-all for family troubles from a
sore corn to "yeller janders."
"Chicken cholera!" say two-thirds of
the neighbors when the other fellow's
chickens are sick.
But listen. Cholera cannot exist with
frost, so there's your winter cry of
"cholera" done.
Cholera bacilli flourish best in heat
of 85 degrees to 105 degrees, and it re
quires an exposure of 15 minutes to
110 degrees of heat to kill the germ.
That's hotter than the red pepper
people prescribe for cholera, so there's
your cayenne cure knocked out. Hot,
moist weather, corn diet and filth is
the fatal cholera triumvirate.
What seems an epidemic of conta
gion is not always so, for a whole flock
may die in a day from ptomaine poison
caused by eating indigestible or de
cayed food.
Diarrhea, while somewhat like chol
era. i-; seldom contagious and may be
quickly cured if taken in time, ltange
birds seldom get it. The irregular
feeding and filth make it common to
yarded stock. Remedy for diarrhea,
sulphocarlxilate of zinc, twenty grains
to quart of water.
Tainted ground and lack of exercise
make yard birds easy targets. All
kinds of fowls and birds get tin- dis
ease, but fat stock are easy marl;-'.
1 tarred liocks and other big breeds go
down quick. <>f fifteen Rocks and fif
teen White Leghorns exposed in experi
ment one Leghorn died to ten Hocks,
and the other fourteen were little af
fected. Why? Less fat and Leghorn
activity. Ilot climate and sandy re
gions have much of the disease.
SYMPTOMS.
Bird bows head, stands alone; wings
droop; comb changes to white, bluish
purple and black: ruflled plumage; bird
drags feet, becomes ball shaped.
Disease begins with yellow tipped
excrement; then follows increasing
( IIOLEr.A MK'liOllC VICTIM,
diarrhea enveloped in mucus, later
greenish and bloody.
No appetite, full sour crop, intense
pain, great thirst, temperature rises to
110 degrees.
Half a Hock may die in one night or
disease may run three days. Birds die
in stupor or convulsions.
1 nssection snows enlarged suit liver,
reil spots mi internal organs, lungs ami
blood vessels full of clotted bl 1.
TREATMENT.
Remove well l>irils to clean quarters,
feed lightly whole oats, mix one |>ou; .
Venetian red to the quart of
water, and ol serve birds closely
Venetian red is also used for In ;:
cholera In dose from tablespoonftil 1.;
In milk.
It is uonjioisonoits. composed ol
iron, lime and magnesia, and a h:U f
pound kept in the drinking water
through hot moi:ths Is file fowl tonic
and sure preventive of cholera and
diarrhea. Keep stricken birds in old
quarters, which should be disinfected
with slaked lime and whitewash,
strong with crude carbolic acid.
Give red water for drink, and to
birds that do not drink give ten grain
capsules of the powder three times n
day.
We have also cured the disease with
operation given for hard crop.
Dead birds and droppings should be
burned. Cholera is often introduced
by new birds, purchased eggs, by birds
j and fowls carrying it in their feathers
i ami germ dust in the air.
j It may be carried on the feet of rats,
eats and attendants and in dead car
casses dragged by dogs. It may be
taken from food, drink and droppings
The disease may be local or it may be
I national, as in 1 S3O. ISSO and 1800.
DON'TS.
j Don't let your turkeys run in the i
j barnyard. It causes blackhead. Keep, j
i them on the green for the "long j
green."
Don't aim too high. Too many chicks !
hatched for your capacity will do you j
both. Don't bite off more chicklets
than you can chew.
Don't expect to be in the limelight
of popularity if you don't use lime
lime for lice and bad smells; lime- j
water for that bad taste and big head. ;
Don't fall to get rid of surplus breed
ers and laying stock as the breeding
season nears the end and slack laying
and molting approach. Quick sales,
less feed, more profits.
A WORLD OF MICROBES.
There are microbes In the air
And microbes In the drink;
There are microbes In the blood vessels
And microbes In your think.
Tuberculosis In the cow
And cholera In the hog.
Diphtheria in the pussy's fur.
Distemper In the dog.
The roosters, too. are crawling full,
And ducks, though they are quacks.
And turks and geese and guineas, too,
Have microbes by the stacks.
You drink them when you take your beer
And breatho them In at prayers.
This old world seems all microbes
In concentrated layers.
"Is there a place whore one may flee
From microbe's murderous blow?"
"Why, yes; the scientists tell me
That place is down below."
C. M. B.
KURIOS FROM KORRESPONDENT3.
Q. Can you tell me why my chicks
have no head feathers? If a disease. It
must affect them till over, for they
grow slowly. N.
A. Your chicks have head lice and
have made themselves bald scratching.
These lice are gray and flat and are
not easily seen. They suck the blood
Bendereil hen fat will kill them.
Q. Will you give me a good summer
ration for my white Bocks? I wish to
show in the fall and would like to keep
them from getting fat and creamy.
A. Whole oats, mash of mids and
bran, beef scrap and greens. Throw in
a little corn and buckwheat occasion
ally. Quantity according to condition.
Q. What is a fair price for an Incu
bator from 100 to 200 egg size and a
brooder for 100 chicks? There are so
many prices I cannot decide. O.
A. A dependable 150 egg incubator
costs $23 and a first class colony brood
er $lB.
Q. What is a good cure for canker?
It seetns to bother my fowls summer
and winter.
A. The best thing you can do Is to
get now stock. Thorough disinfection,
a dry house, no drafts, new stock and
no range in snow, cold and storm will
put you on your feet. Chronic canker
no profit. T_"se chlorate potash or apply
iodine.
! Q. There are various prescriptions
I purporting to be the Douglas mixture,
but I notice they differ. Can you give
j me the true one? W.
A. Sulphate of iron, eight ounces:
! sulphuric acid, half an ounce; water,
| one gallon. I'ut your iron into a jug
J containing a gallon of water. When
; dissolved add acid. When clear give
j tabli -poonful to quart of drinking wa
iter In glass or glazed vessel. Good for
I general tonic, for diarrhea or for
strvngthener during molt.
Q. What height celling do you sug
gest : >;.
A We have had best success with a
ceiling nine feet front and seven back.
Lower ceilings make very hot houses,
many broody hens, and if you art* trou
bled with frost your birds are up
against it. Then think of bumping
your head three times a day.
Q. My chicks seem so dull in the
morn in','. I lose some every night and
cannot account for it. I use the —.
brooder and paid a good price for it.
I'lease help me out. M.
A. The style brooder you use ofteir
smokes the chicks. Cement under
neath, and if you then find soot under
the hover discard. . "■ j - ,
•3- ! state where
we haveTong rainy seasons. Our chick
ens are on range and the wet gives
them bowel trouble. Will you recom
mend a preventive?
A. During the wet season cut out
mash, feed much oats in hull and keep
Venetian red in the drinking water,
a pound to the gallon.
FEATHERS AND EGGSHELLS.
It is impossible to feed 100 or 200
young chickens evenly in a bunch. It's
the easiest stunt to stunt stock there
Is.
Many poultrymen are taking up bees
as a side issue. They certainly work
overtime, require little care and gath
er big returns on a small investment.
Congress lias been seriously discuss
ing the question, "What does It cost a
year to keep a hen?" They are be
ginning to show some sense at Wash
ington, after all.
A poultryman in New Jersey lost
3,000 duck eggs because the gas was
shut off that was supplying the heat
for his incubators. Is this another
proof that corporations have no con
sciences ?
j The Society For the Prevention of
; Cruelty to Animals has come out
against the shipment and sale <>f live
: chicks for Easter gifts. It certainly
is cruelty to give little chicks to chil
dren fur Easter i >yThe sale of
stuffed • hicks and little ducks in the
; stores Is b d enough.
Our English friends followed TIK-col
ony house plan the past winter. Hive
us the long scratching house for lieu
health and eggs. Then we don't need
j to shovel so many paths. By the way.
didn't the English try the colony plan
jon this side and fail? Too many
spunky, revolutionary roosters in the
I colonial coop.
J A number of our chicken brethren)
| are keeping Belgian and Flemish bares,
j They find their main enemies are rats
j and heavy showers. The surface wa
! ter runs down the burrows and drowns
j the harelets. They tell us that market
1 demand Is greater than supply, and
Belgian and Flemish hares taste much
: better than common red, white and
j black hairs. Have you tried them?
j It's funny, but it's true, that among
I pigeons two cock birds sometimes)
mate and If given eggs will ofteu
hatch them out. liens more frequently
■ mate If they can't be suited and In.v
. eggs, but hatch nothing but "stool
pigeons." A cock bird will occasionally
mate with two or three hens ami take
turns at setting on the eggs. What a
squabbling household among cooing
doves!
SIB IEW!
A. Reliable
TIN SHOP
Tor all kind of Tin Roofing,
Spoutlne nnd Ceneral
Job Work.
Stoves, Hooters, Ran«*e»
Furnaces, eto-
PRICES TBB LOWEST!
QGiLITT TOE BEST!
JOHN HIXSON
SO. lit B. FRONT sr.