HER CHOICE. When the Time Came Her Deci sion Was Quickly Made. By SARAH BRYCE VAUGHAN. (Copyright, 1910, by American Press Asso ciation.) "Why it Is." said the ranchman, "that some wlmmen can't make a straight deal with a lover. "We had n case out here onct where a gal Icep' two fellers danglin' after her till she pretty nigh set both on 'em crazy. At last she had to decide all on a sudden, and It didn't take ber a second to Bhow which one on 'em bad her heart. Mebbe she didn't know herself before that which did have It.and mebbe she did know. Least aways there wasn't no hesitation when the time come to make a show down. "She was a little Mexican gal. Her father had belonged to a big family In Spain, and sence most o' the big fami lies there are down at the heel and Herrara beln' the youngest o' twelve children he weut to Mexico, married and come up to this here territory to raise sheep. He had a daughter, Pac quita, born 011 his ranch. From the time she was able to walk she was out o' doors all the while, cilmbln' fences and trees, and when she was four was ridin' the horses to water. "When Pacquita was sixteen she was a terror to her father and mother. She could shoot, ride, swing a lariat, do anything a cowboy could do. I've seen her toss hor handkerchief on the ground, ride by it at full speed aud with one spur hooked to her saddle reach down and pick It up. At that time she used to wear her hair flowin out like a comet's tail—same as little gals do—audit was topped by a som brero. Her Jacket aud skirt were Mexican, with lots o' gold braid. Her eyes were black and her complexion almost as dark as a quadroon's. Shi- j got that from her mother, who had Aztec blood In ber. "There was a Mexican boy whose father owned a ranch near the Her rara property that was brought up with Pacquita. He was just the same age, and they were Just like brothers. Leastaways It seemed to me that Pacquita was more like a brother to THE TWO MEN WEUB SINKING LOWER. Jose Serrano than a sister. Hut I reckon they was more like lovers from the very first. "They was always together till one day a young Englishman come out here to be a rancher. He was th» sleekest looking feller I ever see. Ed ward Allston was his name, and he was a thoroughbred and no mistake. 1 didn't see him ridin' about with Pac quita till some time after his comln' here; then 1 used to see 'em together often. It didn't seem to me that if the Englishman wanted ber the little Mex ican would stand a ghost of a cbanct But. while she wns with the Hritlsber a good deal, she didn't drop the Mexi can. She appeared to be just as foud of him as ever. But what kind of fondness it was, now that Allston had come along, 1 didn't know. It seeuied to me that sooner or later the little chap would find out that he was no where and the Britisher had the right o' way. 'JT_ used to meet ridin' fust with one and then with the other of these men. When she was with Jose he looked sullen, and I reckoned she war trying to make blm believe she didn't caro nothln' at all about All ston. When she was with Allston I eckoned she was tryin' to bring blm nder her spell. They was a tine con rast, them two. she a dark Spanish oeauty, he a fair haired, blue eyed Britisher. It didn't appear to me that he was more Interested in her than if sbe'd beeu any other gal. It war the way she slung them big black eyes about that made me think she was try ing to lasso liim. "The reason I took all this interest in the matter was that I was as fond o' Pacquita ns if sbe'd been my own lit tle gal. One day I overtook ber ridin' along the road alone. After awhile i said somethiu' against the English man Just to see bow 6he'd take It. She fired up, you bet. Then 1 told her 1 thought Jose Herrara was worth three of Edward Allston. She looked kind o' funny, but didn't say nothln'. " 'Well, little gal,' I said when I left her, 'better decide between 'em. It would be cruel to keep 'em on the anxious seat always.' "'I don't know,' she said, 'that I have the privilege of decldin' between 'em.' "With that she cantered away, kind of glum. "I knew well enough that so far as Jose Herrara was concerned she could have him whenever she wanted him. But 1 didn't know anything about her havln' the Englishman. "But as time wore on 1 saw Pacquita • A llstoti more and more together, -ratio seemed to be dropped race. It wns perfectly nat- Ural thai a ' tie lookln' man with swell manners should supplant a boy who didn't dhow up for much except that he w«s n. very good kind of a feller He'd been ulwiut the only person Pac quita had ever como across for u lover, and when -><>incibtn' belter turned up It was natural she should gradually let go her n<>ld on the first and get a grip on the secoud. "Hut the time come when It waa plain enough thai the Englishman bad been landed and was layln' on bis side gaspin'. What I mean by that is that the gal had woven a spell about blm be couldn't resist, and he was dead gone on her f-Yom that time she did not seem so stuck on him as she wns before. That's the way with all of us when we once git a thing we don't care so much about It as we thought we did. That's what 1 thought was the case with Pacquita. but them as knew told me I was wrong. They said she was In love with Allston and wns goin to marry him. "The race was comln' to a finish, wltli big odds on Allston. Leastaways. It would 'a' been ridiculous for Pacquita to stick to a boy lover when she could git a man and a tine man ut that. Hut she didn't seem to want to decide. "One day I'acqulta was out 011 Ikm horse, got up. us usual, in her Mexican toggery, a revolver at tier side ami 11 lariat at the pommel of her saddle when she saw the two men who was courtin' her rldin' toward each other She wondered what they was goin' t«■ do. She didn't want 'em to tight--fact is, all along she had been keepln" Ser rano from pick in a quarrel with All ston. Then she remembered that there was a quicksand between 'em, an' she began to worry lest one on 'em would git Into it. She reckoned Jose Scrra 11 knew all about It. but she wasn't sure Allston did. They was a rldin* kind >• reckless, especially Serrano, and she made up her mind there war goin" to be a fracas. She war bound to stop it, so she started for 'em. "Well, before she reached 'em the met. She saw that Serrauo was talk in' mighty savage to Allston. while Allston was a keepln' bis temper anu pattln' his horse, which seemed restive to keep him quiet, i'acqulta rode on as fast as she could make ber beast go. dreadln' every mluute to see the two men come to blows. Then she no ticed that there seemed to be some thin' the matter with both their horses Serrano went on lalkin' excitedly, but Allston stopped payin' any attention to him and was iashin' bis tiorse. Jhe horse seemed to be ma kin' a great ef fort to do somethiu'. but didn't do nothln'. Then Serrano's horse" was a-makin' the same efforts. "I'acqulta turned pale, for she knew that both her lovers had struck the quicksand, and once In It there was no cbanct for cither of 'em to get out She made her horse do her best, usln whip and spur, but she was ridin across country, with no road, and the goin' was bud. The two men were slnkin' lower and lower and shoutin like mad for help, i'acquita was tin* only person to hear 'em, and there was little prospect sbe'd reach eui before they stiuk out o' sight. She was only a gal anyway. "When she rode up to >m their horses' heads was the only part of el tber critter above the sand and both men bad sunk to the waist. Allston beln' the heaviest, had sunk a Hint lower than Serrano, i'acqulta wrung her hoids for a moment, wild at not beln' able to help 'em, each of 'em lookln' at her pitifully. Then she re membered her iariat. Quick as a flash she unwound and poised it ready to throw. Each man was up to his arm pits. Even if she had time to save one on 'em she wouldn't have time to save the other. "This is where the time come I was tellln' you about at the beglnnin' o' this yarn, where the gal bad to decide which one of the two men she loved, or. rather, the love for one o' 'em thai was In her decided the matter for her Swingiu' the loop around three or four times, she let it go and it shot out over the quicksand. "Which o' them two fellers do you suppose the loop fell on? Why, the lit: it- Mexican. When It come to the pint the child love that had growed like :i young twig was stronger than the new thing that bad come when I'ai qulta was growed. "The rope fell true and In a momci: was around Jose's shoulders under hi* arms. Pacquita bad the other end fastened to the pommel of her sail die, and, sturtiu' ber horse sentlj, as not to break the rope, he pulled the .Mexican out. Then she fell In a faint, but Serrano didn't waste no time on her. He threw the lasso to Allston. who caught It in his hands Serrano was tuggln' away, tryin' to pull the Rrltlsher out. when a horseman up peared and, coming up, lent a hand. Together they hauled Allston 011 to flrin ground. "That was the end o' the rivalry be tween these two men. Allston went back to England and married the daughter of a lord. Serrano married Pacquita. All of which goes tn show that if a gal is In doubt between two lovers she kin find out which one she >atits by bavin' a < uanct to save the life of only one ot 'em.' Not 0/ Exclusion. Ile-I had a hard time getting a good wife. She—Ooodness! Have you been mar ried several times'.- "Oh. no. Hut I courted my present one six years Philadelphia Ledger Usually the Way. Mamie—She Is trying to keep her marriage a secret. Maud- How do you know'' "She told me so." To forgive a fault in another is more sublime than to be faultless oucself. — George Sand. etter Dream On. "Isn't that a perfect dream of a hat?" she demanded of the man by her side. "I said," she repeated after some seconds of silence, "isn't that a dream of a bat?" Still silence from the man. Then she ventured.reproachfully: "Why don't you say something?" "My dear, you seemed to enjoy your dream so that I was afraid of waking you up." the man then replied. HAND WITH I MISSING THUMB It Was Important Evidence, but Came In Late. By WILLARD BLAKEMAN. [Copyright, 1910, by American Press Asso ciation.] William Burcb was graduated at the ecientiilc school of the university and became an assistant in an insti tution for original scientific research. Having a rich uncle, unmarried and childless, who was Intending to make him his heir, he had laid out a career for himself by which ho might devote his time to study and Investigation. This uncle, a Mr. Trevor, was cashier in 11 bank. One morning young Burch received a note from his uncle usking bim to call that afternoon at 3 o'clock. Burch called. Half an hour later he was seen to leave his uncle's house very red In the face and muttering to him self. The only person living In the house with the uncle was an old wo man who took care of It. She beard Mr. Trevor say during Burch's visit: 1 "That's the best I can do for you." Burch replied nngrlly: "You have placed me in a very trying position Having ndvised me to follow a career that pays nothing and promised to back me up, you put me off with"— Here the door was closed, and tin' 1 housekeeper heard 110 more. Mr. Trevor always went out to dill ner—usually at his club—nt C o'clock. Mrs. Morton, bis housekeeper, noticed that he did not ride out during the afternoon of bis nephew's call, and at 7 o'clock be had not gone to dinner. She went to his room, knocked and received no reply. Entering, she saw his dead body on the bed. Kunning to the telephone, she called up William Burch aud told him to come at once—something had happened to his uncle. Burch came and with Mrs. Morton went to his uncle's room. He did not speak for some time, be lng evidently under strong emotion Then he said: "Mrs. Morton, who has been with my uncle this afternoon besides my self?" "I have seen uo one come or go." On the table stood a decanter of whisky, a glass and a soda bottle in a silver holder. The dead man had been EXAMINED THE CONTENTS CUITIOALLY. drinking some whisky and soda and j had left a part of it in the glass. Burch 1 took up the glass and examined tin 1 contents critically. Then, stooping so ' as to get very near the bolder, he e> ! a mined it closely. "When was it polished?" be asked. "This morning. I polished all the! silver this morning." A part of the surface was blurred, the rest was bright. "Did you hnndle it after polishing it?" "Only by the bottom." Burch put his mouth nearer the ! holder und breathed on It. Then, tak j lng a little hand microscope from bis vest pocket, he brought it to bear on tilt blurred surface. "U'm!" he said. "Well?" said Mrs. Morton interroga- j tively. "Where can I lock up this bottle | holder?" "In any of the closets. There's one | on each floor." "No. Every nook and cranny of the | ! house will be searched." 110 threw himself into a chair an-' I j thought. Mrs. Morton stood waiting j The dead body lay 011 the bed. l'lual , j ly Burch. risiug. said: "I must risk it." j "Risk what?" I "Before reporting my uncle's death ) I I must remove the bottle holder j Promise me that you will say nothing 1 about It." For the first time Mrs. Morton cast a 1 suspicious glance at Mr. Burcb. "If I'm questioned about It I shall be 1 obliged to tell." "If you are questioned, yes." Mrs. Morton gave a reluctant con sent. "Get me s pasteboard box that wi' hold It." She went out of the room and pres I cntly returned with a box. Burch cut a hole in it large euough to let through | the stand of the bottle holder, by j which he grasped it, using the box a* I a protector, so that nothing could ! touch the sliver surface. "Call a cab." | Mrs. Morton did as directed, and I Burch, carrying the bottle holder by its stand part, left the house, promis ing to return soon. Within twenty minutes he was back. Then he weut to the telephone, called up the police and reported that his uncle bad died suddenly under very suspicious cir cumstances. The coroner was not long in coming and, after carefully Inspect . ; , ing everything in the room, went out, locking the door behind him nnd put ting a policeman on guard. While this was In progress William Burch was locked In his own room with a detective. "My uncle has boen poisoned," he said, "by some one whose left thumb is missing. I wish you to find ttint person. If you don't I shall either be executed for murder or imprisoned for life or go forth n man with a blighted reputation. I was the last person known to be with my uncle before his death. In a few days or at most a few weeks I shall be arrested. "These are my disadvantages. On the other side, I am heir to my uncle's estate nnd can pay my lawyers and you well. I care nothing for them provided you succeed. Go. Find the man with the missing thumb." In Just two days from that day Wil liam Burch was arrested for the mur der of his uncle, John Trevor. After the usual delay the case came to trial Mrs. Morton wns the first witness for the prosecution, and oue of the first questions asked her was If there bad been a holder for the soda bottle found In the deceased's room. She replied that there had been nnd when ques tioned further testified that the ac cused had taken it away. [ This without any other evidence wns enough to convict Burch. Another fea ture alone was also sutlicient to that end. Burch was his uncle's heir. A i third feature admitted by Burch him self clinched the other two. Being put on the stand by his counsel nnd asked what had passed between him and his uncle at their last Interview. Burch said: "My uncle sent for me to tell me | that he was intending to marry. This I would turn his property away from me. lie proposed to make my inter est in it dependent upon the will of the lady he was to marry. To this I objected." All wondered at this admission, which indicated plainly that in order to save an estate which was to pass to another the prisoner had murdered the owner. A witness for the defense had been summoned in the person of Edgar I Whipple, a bookkeeper at the bank At this point Burch's counsel cnlled Whipple to the stand. lie was a pale, nervous man, who seemed to be dread ing the ordeal before him. The examination of the witness de veloped that lie had been carrying on his books a deficit of some $50,000 which he had lost in speculation. The next move of the defense was an at tempt to prove that he had visited Mr Trevor on the afternoon of the mur der, that Mr. Trevor was the only pel son who knew of his defalcation and that the two held a conversation on that subject. All this the witness de nied, and as there was no proof of it the opinion of those in the courtroom was that a mistake had been made in attempting to establish it. Without dismissing the witness coun sel for the defense gave au order to | on attendant, who disappeared and re ! turned carrying a pasteboard box, which he placed on a table before the I lawyer. The cover was removed, and | he lifted by its base from the box a silver bottle holder. Every person in the courtroom bent forward with eager attention. Natu rally it was inferred that this was the missing article that Miss Morton had testified the prisoner had removed. / sensation was expected, aud a sensa tion was realized. Counsel for the de fense, still holding the bottle holder by Its base, Carried it to the Jury box. breathed on it, handed a microscope to the Juryman nearest him and invited him to examine the surface. This process wns repeated with every jury man. Then, carrying the holder back to the table, the lawyer set it down nnd said: "Gentlemen of the jury, this stand | held the bottle used when the murder j ed man took his last drink. The sod.i I wns poured Into the glass of whisky ' by some one who held It in his left hand, the thumb of which was miss ! iug. This person then dropped In the I glass a dose of prusslc acid, which litis ; since been found there by experts. You have examined the silver surface ; and have found the Imprint of a hand | with the thumb missing. That imprint I came from the moisture of the hand J that grasped the silver. It dried out. j but I revived It with my moist breath. | that you could all see It, that you i might all have proof that the person j ivimmHt...! ii.u u»mder was a man j with a missing thumb." ! Then, turning to the witness, the I lawyer said: i "Hold up your left hand." j Instead of obeying the order the wlt j ness fell over In a faint. lie was pick j ed up nnd placed on a chair, and as soon as he came to himself an officer j lifted the witness' hand, the thumb aw which was missing. | William Burch was acquitted, the | jury not leaving their seats. He In I herited a fortune from his uncle and i settled a handsome annuity on the i lady whom Mr. Trevor wns to have j married. j The man with the missing thumb j died before being brought to trial The Flag of Denmark. In the year 1219 King Wnldemar of Denmark, when lending bis troops to battle against the Livoninns, saw, or thought he saw, a bright light In the form of a cross in the sky. He held I this appearance lo be a promise of ' divine nld and pressed forward to vie | tory. From this time he had the | cross placed on the flag of his country I and called If the Dannebrog—that l> | the strength of Denmark. Aside from l legend there Is no doubt that this Bus j with the cross was adopted by Deu I mark In the thirteenth century and that | at about the same date au order, j kuown as the order of Dannebrog, was | Instituted, to which only soldiers and sailors who were distinguished for | courage were allowed to belong. The i tiag of Denmark, a plain red banner beurlng on It n white cross. Is the old est flag now In existence. For 3uo years both Norway and Sweden were united with Denmark under this fl?g —Housekeeper. A Duke's Maxim. It was a maxim of the first Duke of Portland, who was a great lover of race horses, that there were only two places where all men are equal—on the turf and under the turf. A ROMANCE. The Story as It Was Told by Picture Postals. r.-'.C- By AGNES Q. BROGAN. [Copyright, 1910, by American Tress Asso ciation.] "Mike" was not his true name. It bad been bestowed by the clerks at "Station D" becnuse of the never fall ing good humor and ready wit which characterized the stout, red haired, postman, who had been In the service of the United States government as long as the men could remember, and so generally was the name adopted that &llke himself had almost forgot ten the proper one. The picture postals which found their way Into his bag were a source of unfailing delight, and often Mike could folow the travels of some favor ite by merely reading the cards as they were sent home. As he neared the stone house with the white rosebush growing beside the veranda the postmnn unconscious ly quickened his steps and searched eagerly aniotig the letters, for he never liked to dlsapolnt Miss Isabel. She was one of the few who had not changed entirely In the process of growing up. Mike ascended the steps, "I OUKS3 IT'S FOB THE NT7R9R." looking admiringly at the picture of a very blue lake surrounded by very green trees. Upon the opposite side of the card he read: Dear Mother—Cousin Robert and his friend met me at the station. I am hav ing a fine time. ISABEL* "So she's away," Mike mused, a lit tle disappointedly. "Well, she'll have the good time all right." And so it seemed, judging from the many gala postals interspersed with thick letters which were received dally at the stone house. v»•- Miss Isabel wrote constantly of pleas ure trips with "Cousin Hobert and bis friend," who later came to be deslg uated as "Robert's friend Billy," and then when the long summer was draw lug to an eud the obliging Cousin Rob ert's company seemed to bo dispensed with, for the postnls read simply, "Bil ly and I were here today." Mike chuckled as he handed one of these cards to the maid. "She won't be coming home in a hurry," he said confidentially. But in this he wns wis taken, for she came smilingly to meet him a few days afterward. "I suppose 1 will have a bundle of letters for you soon," he remarked. "I hope so," she answered gayly. He searched expectantly through his pack next morning, and, sure enough, there it was,"l will write you to night—yours, Billy." while a printed verse stated the fact that "absence makes the heart grow fonder." They came thick and fast after that —letters, cards, a photograph or two aud bulging little packages, all address ed In the same free, bold hand which Mike learned to recognize Instantly. Isabel was always there as he came down the street, apparently absorbed In sow ing or hovering about the rose bush with n great i release of eramin fj g Us leaves. When Mike presented .lis offering she would receive it with the open di of a child. "It's from Billy." he would say and go away laughing at her confusion The old postman was vastly Interested In the unfolding love story, but there caine a time when the girl waited In vain, and he dreaded to meet her questioning eyes, for Billy's letters had ceased abruptly. Mike pondered deeply. The shrewd eyes could read more than postal cards, and l»e was sure that she had been too fond of this Billy to send hiui away. Had the mother interfered or —his face darkened savagely—was the fellow himself to blame? One morning as Mike was preparing to start out upon his rounds the fa miliar bold handwriting flashed Into view as though in answer to his trou bled thoughts. The freckled hand trembled as he held the postal up to the light. It was the picture of a great ocean steamer, and the message upon the addressed side danced dizzily for a moment before his eyes, "nave engaged pnssage for Oct. 5." he read "Goodby forever, little Isabel Drew. Billy." And the old postman fought with the greatest temptation of his life—to de stroy a part of Uncle Sam's mall. When he saw the little white lady leaning back wearily in her chair upon the veranda Mike was certain that he would have preferred to pay the full penalty due such a crime than to have been the bearer of this cruel missive, lie avoided her eyes as he turned away, but there was a tremulous little catch in the voice which thanked him. To his great relief, Isabel no longer awaited his comlnsr. and when he next loft u Tetter for Uer mother it was a white capped uurse who responded to his ring. lady sick?" Mike asked in > which was supposed to express interest, and the nurse an swerou Mfely; "Yes; sh«. Is very sick Indeed." He stopped to inquire every day aft er that and then pursued his way gloomily. "Mike is gettlug peevish " the clerks at the oilice Bald iu surprise. An ulr of Intense anxiety seemed to pervade the atmosphere of the stotie house, and the bell was muffled, for the patient had reached the crisis when Mike again appeared at the door. He was awkwardly holding a parcel wrap ped in tissue paper. "She used to like white roses," be said to the nurse. "Put these in her room." At length news came that Isabel was really getting better. The air of de pression vanished. Once more Mike's whistle sounded cheerily. Then he be came puzzled over a letter which un mistakably bore Billy's hand writ lug and yet was not directed to the girl he had treated so cruelly. Mike tlnally camo to the conclusion that the fel low had written to the nurse desiring information concerning Isabel's condi tion, and he fervently hoped that she "wouldn't make it up with him." He fingered the letter guiltily as he approached the house and saw Isabel herself standing upon the veranda. A sudden moisture filled the sympathetic postman's eye, for she was such a small, white Isabel. Her dark hair had been cut, and the short curls seemed to change her back again into the little girl who had raced to meet him upon her way from school. "I am glad you are better," he said heartily, and she smiled. "Thank you," she answered softly. "You have been very kind. Any let ters today?" Mike drew a long breath. "There's one here," he said hesitatingly. "1 guess It's for the nurse—addressed to Mrs. William D. Rhodes." Isabel extended an eager hand. "Why, Mike," she said, laughing hap pily, "don't you know—that I am Mrs William Rhodes?" He stared at her unbelievingly. "You," he repeated dully—"you Mrs Rhodes, and It wasn't the Billy fellow after all?" "Oh, but It was," she said rather confusingly, "for Billy Is William Rhodes." The old postman still looked, bewil dered. "You married to him all the while," he said slowly, "and me think ing when the letters stopped and he went away bidding you 'goodby for ever' on a postal card that it was all over with." She laughed merrily at his unblush lng confession to reading her mall. "1 understand now," she said, "your dis appointment at having no letters to deliver, but you see when we became engaged Billy managed to be trans ferred to the company's office here, so there was no further need of corre spondence. We were married quietly the very day before I was taken de.; perately 111 with typhoid fever, which had been threatening me for so lon- Billy has been with me through It r!' and now that I am strong enough",- the glrl'sjeyes^ljone—"we are" going upotTour long"posfponed wedding trij» to Europe. The card you spoke of.' she explained kindly, "was sent from New York, where Billy had gone to engage our passage, and ; knowing I was {olid Carried the next day, he bade goodby forever to Isabel Drew.' Mike replaced his cap and sorted ou' another handful of letters. The i.if tlous smile appeared upon his face and the Irish blue eyes twinkled. "Yo:: can't always tako It from the postals." he said. At the foot of the stair be doßVti his cap again. "1 wish you much happiness, Mrs. Rhodes," he added ceremoniously, and the girl watched him far down the street. "Never was wish more sincere," she murmured softly. The days followr. each other uneventfully. No girlish fir i bent over the rosebushes or stniV from the window, and then one mo:., lug Mike discovered among his lot I t : one bearing a European postmark a: addressed In a small, neat hand—wbi-' he well remembered—to Mrs. .la' < Drew. It would naturally be supposed that such a bulky letter could convey nil the news necessary, but with It. alsi directed to Mrs. Drew, came a picture postal, the same white boat will had at one time aroused Mike's _iinp and beneath the boat was penned: Tou will be glad to know that Billy and I have arrived safely and are well and happy. ISABEL, RHODES The postman ascended the steps ol the stone house. "There's a letter 112 i Mrs. Drew," he Informed the tuai who opened the door, "and n post a card for me." "You!" the girl exclaimed scorn fa' "Why, it's for her too." "1 am not so sure of that," SI. answered knowingly. "But you i let her have It." The door closed with a bang, fur t maid had lwng since cersed trying '■ understand Mike and liis ways, a:i the whistled tune. "lias Ajqybody Uen Seen Kelly?" flouted riotously down the street. BERTILLON STUDIES HAIR. Thinks He Has New Criminal Identi fication Plan. M. Bertlllon. well known for his fin gerprint system of identification for criminals, is collecting samples of hair from all over the world. lie believes he has hit on a new method which will make still easier the identification of any one sought by the police. Every nation, says M. Bertlllon. has a different way of expressing a defi nite shade of hair, the Swedes, for in stance, calling chestnut what the French describe as blond. All sam ples are classed and graduated mi nutely according to shade in a large cntalogue. and every shade will have a special name which M. Bertlllon hopes will be adopted as an international standard. British Railways Clear $219,000,000. The British railways earned $584,- 000,000 gross and $210,000,000 net Iu 1900 on a mileage of 23,204. Freight carried was 559,000.000 tons, an in crease of 0,000,000 tons. Exclusive ojr season ticket holders 1,264,857,000 pas sengers were carried, a decrease of 13,- 275.000 from 100 S. NEW ENGLAND TO BOOM CORN CROP J Announces Exposition to En courage Movement. THINK GRAIN BELT INFERIOR. Down East Farmer Winner of Greatest Yield to Acr* Prize In 1908, and Sweetest Species In World Grows In Massachusetts and Connecticut la Boast of Fair Promotors. \ NEW ENGLAND BOASTS OF i CORN CROP. X Corn is a native of New Eng- 9 •> land. % ',][ The yield of corn to the acre j? in the New England states Is <§> *' higher than in the states of the x •J. "corn belt." & A New England farmer in 1908 x <•• won the prize for the greatest » % yield of corn to the acre. <;• The finest sweet corn in the ® % world is produced in the New & • England states. S Recognition of the surprising facta cited above has brought about the incorporation of the New England Coru exposition, to be held in Worces ter, Mass., in November. The ob ject of the exposition is to demon strate that New England can grow corn awl to Impress upon the farmers the value of corn as a product. There will be Informative exhibits by the six New England agricultural col leges and seven experiment stations. Dally lectures on corn improvement will be given, as well as demonstra tions of seed testing and corn and grain Judging. The United States de partment of agriculture is expected to furnish interesting and valuable ex hibits. a ' Want More Corn Raised. "One of the weaknesses of farming in New England," says J. Lewis Ells worth, secretary of the Massachusetts state board of agriculture and one of the charter members of the new cor poration, "Is the failure of the farmers to raise their own corn." "Very little corn is raised In Massa chusetts. We want to get the farmer Interested in this so that he will raise his own corn. Formerly a farmer would buy his corn, since that was cheaper than raising it Now the price of corn has increased by 100 per cent since ISOO, and he Is not buying so much." , l The officers of the exposition. In urg ing a more general production of corn* explain that Massachusetts is exceeded of product per acre by only one state—Connecticut. Despite th» fact that the cost of production, Is probably higher in Massachusetts than* in the corn belt of the Mississippi val ley, there Is no doubt, they say, that corn can be raised with a profit In this sfate, for the average price per bushel Is higher than In most states. In 1005 the average farm prices of corn were as follows: In the United States as a whole, 28 cents; in lowa, 34 cents; in Illinois, 38 cents; in In diana, 33 cents; in Massachusetts, 70 cents. Much Fertilizer Needed. Although fertilizers must be used ln> greater quantity than in the state» , named, Professor William P. Brooks, director of the Massachusetts agricul tural experiment station, points out that "on many soils In Massachusetts an average expenditure of about S2O an acre for fertilizers will Insure an annual product of sixty to seventy bushels. "This Is at the rate of only about 30 cents a bushel for corn produced, but In M i-' •U'husetts tli ■ stover is worth hum • «« fora.-e than in th» western states " Chinese Dusiness Honesty. With due re ;i*'Ci for others, the- Chinaman is pi : aps the mosi honor able and upri.i: business man in the world today I' is business principles are founded . Irely upon honesty, and he adhere- to the policy with the Insistence of a leech. The chase after dollars stops if he has to resort to low tricks to get them. Of course a littlft thing like telling a falsehood occasion ally does not bother him so much, but when It comes to plotting and schem ing to defraud some one the task be comes distasteful. The e.;tial of thai Japanese i: ini;iative a;.d foresight, he is much their superior when integ rity Is concerned. A Japanese f'-'es not think twice before deciding to get the best of you. He calculates that you are liable to change your mind op get out of reach if he Indulges iu a little mental debate ns to the propriety of cheating vou.— Bookkeeper. A BLella'bl* TO SHOP Por all kind of Tin Roofing* Spoutlne nnd General Job Work, Stoves, Heaters, Ran«a« t Furnaces, eto. rRICES THG LOWEST! QlllLlfl 188 BEST? JOHN HIXSON no. iif E. FRONT jrr,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers