TH1 TBAOHBM.
Give ma a trt that t may wateh It rlM
Up, ever upward to the eternal skies,
And learn from It the lesson It doth teach
la patience e'er (or higher things to reach.
GHve me a tiny rill, a rivulet
That speeds along unmindful of regret;
That dashes onward to the mighty sea
Athlrst of that great whole a part to bel
Give me a sturdy pcnk that proudly rears
Its hcnd aloft whatever storm appears.
To All my soul with that great strengthfulness
That holds It stenutiist In the hour ot stress.
Give mo a star to look at far above,
A star that sheds Its radiant rays of love,
And spnrkles fairest In the blackest night,
And sends down through the dark Its song of light!
John Kendrlck Hangs, in Harper's Weekly.
a r t n t T?
4 1 DULUiniV O 1 v7 IV Ii m
By ROSEMARY HOAR.
The snow was falling thick and fast,
and to him who wit by tho Are within
that lonely room every flake was hurry
ing relentlessly down to cover a new
made grave. It was twilight, the hour
when she was ever wont to sit beside
him, in summer upon the porch, nntl In
this sort ot weather on the other side
of the open grate where the empty
chair stood now. The funeral had tak
on place that afternoon, friends were
kind, very kind; old comrades had
nleade-1 with him to come to their
homes or to let one of them stay with
him. But with gentle resistance he
had refused all their well-meant com
panionship, and was according to his
advice, alone. What his plans for the
future mighti be did not matter; for
tonight no one should Intrude upon
his sacred communing.
It had hnppened. Hardly did he real
lze It yet, and, being a man of slow
perception and deliberate action, he
needed time and solitude to adjust him
elf to changed circumstances.
Besides, he was not lonely, no storm
of grief had as yet rent his being.
It may be that he had not felt aright,
but true it was that not even when
they brought her In from the street
dead had a tear rolled down his cheek
Dead! Why should he say that word?
Why, there she was In her chair on
the other side of the blazing logs; he
could see her knitting In the dusk and
hear her say, "Yes, John, dear, I think
It is time to make tea." Was not that
she now, moving about In the next
room, tinkling china? The kettle was
singing upon the stove; was It not
awaiting her, too? Yes, and she was
coming; he could tell her step In a
million; It was scarce heavier than
forty years ago. Forty years ago! The
half-burnt log gave a sudden lurch and
be stooped to fix It. Forty years ago!
Why, that was way back before the
War yes, he remembered now. It
Was when she wore that lilac dimity,
when her curls were sunny br'own. A
mere slip of a girl she was then, and
(lender and frail always. And his dally
prayer had ever been that he should
be spared to protect her, that Martha
might never be left alone.
Plants are different; some strong
by themselves, others are of a twin
ing1 nature,- yea, he had prayed that
Martha be never left alone without
him. That was the way he had put
the request; but what the granting of
H might mean to him, he had never
dared formulate. And he never sus
pected that her secret supplication was
a similar concern for him.
Never bverstrong for some time back
Martha's heart had fluttored like a
frightened bird, too much and too fre
Quently. Still, only three days ago, In
the afternoon, seemingly as well as
4ver, she had put on her little bonnet
with the soft lavender velvet bow and
fur coat, preparatory to going down
town. He had protested for it was bit
ter cold, and a wind was coming up.
But Martha was laughingly rebellious
Bind would have her own sweet way,
refusing even to let him accompany
her.
"Why, I'm sixty years young," she
exclaimed, with an echo of the old
youthful ring in her voice. "Can't I
go down street alone and do a little
shopping?"
And she kissed him and called him
a great followcat, and was off. He
could see hor now as she went through
the doorway; he had watched her ad
miringly and anxiously to the end of
the street, where she stepped upon the
car. Why had he let her go? Why
bad ha not kept her with him while
he could? Perhaps it was better not
be would try to think so lest Martha
should some day be left alone. And
having seen her take the car safely,
be returned to his chair by the fire,
wondering what her little surprise
was now. He had forgotten that it
was his birthday, and did na'j think ot
It even now. It was not until they
.brought her back through the same
doorway and laid her upon the old
horse-hair Bofa dead. Dead! Was
. It really so? Martha dead and he
alone by the flre?
He would not remember his birth
fay then, but they gave him a small
parcel that had been clasped In her
arms when she fell. It was a daintily
colored photograph in a gilt frame,
the picture of a sweet-faced girl in a
' lilac dimity, a laughing girl with sunny
jbrown hair! It must have been made
from that old daguerreotype of her,
(taken a few years before the war, a
likeness that they had somehow mis
laid and had not been able to find for
many years back. be must have
come upon it recently and kept the dls-
r1 very -a secret to have this done as
birthday surprise.
Then many things happened in which
be had no part People came and went,
.did things and said things; but he only
knew that she lay there cold and
Mill, with-hor pale face gentle as ever,
Iher hair soft and silvery, weaning the
iblack satin dress that he had bought
T) rTrT) "r r
her for their silver wedding day. Only
this afternoon they had taken her away
and now he was alone.
The Qce of the girl with sunny
brown hald peeking out at him frbm
the oval gilt frame had brought back
many scenes of the misty long ago, and
tonlfctfit he would live them all through
again. No wonder Dick Heaton loved
her! Any man well might, and Rich
ard was a good man, too, good and gen
erous; he proved it afterward. But
Martha never loved Dick; she never
loved anyone butt him, common, ordin
ary John Reynolds, with only a pair
of stalwart shoulders and a good heart
and soul to recommend him. Nothing
of cleverness was there In his make
up; why h,ad Martha Hadley loved him
so? Impossible to tell ; it might have
been because her people did not wish
her to; they were determined that) she
should marry Richard Heaton. Dick
was a good fellow, but Martha did not
love him. So much was sure. But she
was a child of strong and righteous
people, Inheriting traits of self-denial
and forbearance, reared In the spirit
of setting aside desire for duty. She
had all her life yielded unquestioning
obedience to stern parents, and when
they had persisted a sufficiently long
time In their opposition to John Rey
nolds, she succumbed, and, locking her
rose of Joy tightly within her heart,
consented to marry Richard Heaton.
And she did so. But to do Justice
to Heaton, he did not know not then.
She, poor child, thought It possible to
keep her secret forever, and smile
and be dutiful to her chosen husband.
Keep such a secret a lifetime! What a
task! Of course, he guessed it, but Bhe
did net know that. After she blushed
at the hypocrite he must have thought
her when Bhe smiled upon him daily
and suffered his caresses, how should
she know that he had discerned the
truth when his manner remained un
changed? Poor artless girl!
The unwonted dissimulation was be
ginning to tell upon her; John Rey
nolds knew It, for he saw her from time
to time as she went here and there
to ithe village gatherings with her
husband. And his honest face burned
and his good heart ached that she
should suffer the most of all. He
hushed his owni cry of pain, and even
hoped that she might forget him, for
her own sake, and stamp out his mem
ory from her heart.
He pitied Richard Heaton, too, for
something told him, that the man
must one day awaken to the truth. He
would far rather be In his own posi
tion, beloved as he knew himself to
be, than In Dick'B although Heaton
was her husband. Some blessings are
twofold In value when doubled in quan
tity, but such Is not true of all good
things. That woman Is indeed rich
who possesses the love of an honest
man; Martha, with the love of two,
might as well, or better, suffer a dearth
of affection, and the pretty timid face
faded, too, es both John Reynolds and
Dick Heaton observed, but neither re
marked it except to his own heart.
The gilt-framed picture of the brown
haired girl had brought It all back, to
night. The log on the flre was crumbling
away. He went to get anotner, and as
ho did so staggered a little. It might
have been from the rigidity of his long
position, he thought; it could not bo
from weakness, for ho was a strong
man. He had never been ill In his life,
save after the wound at Gettysburg1,
and once again a few months ago, when
he had suffered a sort of shock. It was
that last sickness of his that had made
Martha's heart palpitate so badly. He
had not been 'just exactly as epry as
usual since. But he was a strong man
and not seventy yet
The fresh log cracked and sent out
sparks. He set the screen in front of
t, for the sparks might set fire to
Martha's dress. Martha.! Where was
she? He leaned forward and placed
his hand upon the vacant, chair. Then
he remembered that she was not there,
but in the oval gilt frame, wearing a
lilac dimity and sunny brown curls Just
as In the days before she was Richard
Heaton's wife. And a good wife she
was too,- and meant to be always
always.
Dick was the best of husbands, but
when the war broke out, of course, he
had to go; Heatons had fought for cen
turies back and their blood flowed
through his veins; He was made cap
tain of the village company in which
John Reynolds was a private. And at
least one woman's prayerful benedic
tion followed both into battle; Rey
nolds saw her on the street in the
midst of others, watching ee they
tramped away. She saw him, too, at
tho same moment; that was ell. Both
were full sure that they should never
meet again on this side of the shadowy
border; each sent up a spontaneous
prayer to God for the keeping of the
other. What were the feelings of the
other onlookers and soldiers we know
not, but these three hearts seemed to
beat a death march at Captain Heaton
led his company away.
Southern skies were hot, the marshes
sickening and fever-laden. Forced
marches, battles, retreats, thundering
cannon, shot and shell, wounds, groans
and death were all about him, yet he
was spared, he who might be better
dead. Why was he not taken instead
of that brave one failing at his side,
whoso last breath was a prayer for wife
and children, whose death meant an
other widow and more fatherless chil
dren in the world. It was not until
the last day at Gettysburg that he fell,
and strange to say, It was not until
that eame day that the gallant young
captain was wounded also wounded
unto death.
But in the letter which the kind
young lady wrote to Martha there was
a mistake. It told her that John Rey
nolds was hopelessly shattered and
could live but a few days at best, and
that Richard Heaton, with a serious
but not mortal wound, was close by In
the same hospital, and a source of great
comfort to him. Such an easy thing
to do to slip in one name where the
other ought to bo, whew the writer
knew not tho personality or the where
aboitfs of either.
It was at Heaton's request and whol-
ly unknown to Reynolds that she wrrote
and may God forgive the pale young
wife if when- the letter came to her
New England cottngo, there was a sin
gle traitorous or rebellious thought, f
spirit, even transitory, other than that
of renunciation! She had been loyal
to her husband, devoted and true; she
would remain so, faithful for a life-
time. But he was dying. Was It
wrong that Bhe flew there as fast as
trains could take her, fuming with un
wonted Impatience at every delay and
obstacle, praying God to spare him
breath until her arrival? What she
had renounced for a lifetime might
she not indulge for a moment? Only
to pi aether hand upon the brow, and
look Into1 the eyes she loved once more
Then It would be over all for ever.
Small wonder If John Reynolds
concluded that he must have been sud
denly taken with some sort of illusion
ing fever, when, as sitting wltj great
effort for his own wound was painful
enough by the cot of Richard Heat
on, trying to solace him whose life
had all but gone, he discerned advanc-
Ing the one loved face and form that
was always nresent, in his waklne and
sleeping dreams. Could Dick see It,
too, and was it a vision sent to solace
his dying moment? Could It be that
he was awake and heard aright when
the nurse was telling Richard Heaton
that his wife had arrived and was then
waiting outside the door for the an
nouncement to be gradually and gent
ly made?
It was not so very Btrange in her
confusion that she kissed two men in
stead of one; no wonder she wept and
emilod and blushed and sighed and
wept again, for emotions followed swift
upon one another, Joy for the one when
she perceived the very evident mistake,
and sincere concern for the other who
had never been aught but kind and de
voted to her. And when John Rey
nolds would have moved away to give
husband and wife privacy Heaton's
feeble hand was raised detalnlngly.
"Do not go, John," he said, the words
coming between struggling gasps. "I
have something to say. I want you
to take care of Martha when I am
gone. She loves you I was blinded
did not know until too late. She has
been true and kind to me will be to
you. Sorry I kept you apart so long.
Take her now, John; Martha, give him
your hand and promise me."
It seemed' as if every word he uttered
shortened his life a space; the strug
gle, wias painful to him and them. The
pledge given, he had no more to say
say, "uomrort ner:" wnen ne saw niB
wife's slight frame shaking 'violently
with sobs.'
And John Reynolds had wept with
her, too, if there were any comforting
In that. Wept! He was weeping now,
in the lonely room before a llghtless
grate. His own great sobs aroused
him; he was cold and numb; his arm
had that "needles-and-plns" sensation
which he had first experienced a few
months ago.
Well, he would sit there a bit longer
and flniEh his dream. Since tho war
was over, since since then until three
days ago when he saw her tie on the
llttlo bonnet with the soft la.vender
velvet bow,-he had not been, from her
side a single day. Why had he not
gone with her It was so cold when
she set out alone, laughing and say
ing that sho was sixty years young!
She came back they brought her back
her and the lilac dimity girl in the
gilt frame and both were with him
still. One had silver curls and the
other sunny brown; both smiled and
smiled and beckoned he smiled back
through his tears and answered that
he would come.
In the morning his nearest neigh
bor, who came In early to be sure that
he had some breakfast, found him in
the chair before a flreless grate. She
call a doctor, for he was but par
tially conscious, who pronounced him
to be suffering from a stroke, due prob-i
ably to shock and grief. In a few days
they laid him to rest beside Martha,
whose secret prayer had been that
John should never be left alone.
Spring'fieldl Republican.
Unkind.
Mrs. A. Mrs. Baker says she'd give
a good deal to know where you get
your clothes.
Mrs. B. (smiling) She likes them,
then, doesn't she?
Mrs. A. No. She thinks they wear
wonderfully. New York Times.
An advocate of the vegetarian diet
has stated that the nut trees of the
world are capable of supplying food,
all the year, to the population of th
globe.
No Money In Milk.
Owing to the poor feed in the pas
tures and the high price of grain, no
money was made in milk production
last year. The day of cheap gradn is
past and In the future the producer
must plan more to raise his own grain,
The price of milk has advanced some
what in proportion to that of grain and
is one-third higher thorn it was eight
jears ago, and is now higher than at
any time In the past twenty years.
Secretary W. A. Hunter, Worcester
County, Mass., in American Cultivator.
Memorandum Eook,
When writing to the various fertlli
zer and Implement concerns ask them
for a free memorandum book, and use
these handy little volumes for jotting
down the odd Jobs whenever you think
of them. Then re-arrange the jobs so
they can be taken up when there is a
chance and put through to the beet ad
vantage. Pay special attention to
Items that can be done on stormy
days; put them by themselves, and
see mat the materials and tools are
ready In advance. Work that can be
done on stormy days and In the even
Ing hours seems like clear gain to the
ambitious farmer. American Cultlva
tor.
Flues For Barns.
Every barn should have a system of
flues, or, if they are to. expensive, cot
ton windows, More trouble of garget
and udder disease results from sudden
drafts than from any other causes,
In the outgoing flue the area should be
In proportion to the number of cows,
about ono square foot to a cow, and
should be opened at the top of the
barn. Inside tho barn the opening in
summer should be up high and in win
ter lower down. The incoming flues
should have the same area, but there
should be more of them, necessarily
making them smaller. The air should
come In from the outside near the sills,
and to tho bam from under the eaves.
Prof. H. E. Cook, in the American
Cultivator.
A Method of Preserving Eggs.
Using as a theory that an egg decom
poses owing, to the entrance of bac
teria through the shells, an English
firm has adopted a method of preserv
ing eggs by first disinfecting them fl.nd
then immersing them in a vessel of hot
paraffins in a vacuum. Tho air In the
shell Is extracted by a vacuum and at
mospheric pressure Is then allowed to
entor the vessel, and the hot wax is
pressed into the pores of the shell,
which thus hermetically seals it. Evap
oration of the contents of tho egg.
which has a harmful effect, is thereby
prevented, and the egg Is practically
sterile. The yolk of pickled eggs and
others artificially preserved will fre
quently break on being poached, but
the eggs preserved by this novel pro
cess, It is stated, are quite free from
such fault. American Cultivator.
Spade the Yards.
Spading up tho yards is more im
portant in summer than in winter, but
as the cold weather sets in, the yards
begin to flatten or harden prohibiting
any moisture, waste food, refuse litter
and droppings from becoming incorpor
ated in the soil, and there must be
seme means of sotting rid to this un
healthy condition.
When the ground is allowed to get
In a filthy condition, the fowls become
susceptible to diseases of all natures,
and it is them that the loss commences.
Spade up the yards and scatter lime
over the surface of the ground. Lime
prevents gapes, roup and cholora and
also serves as a disinfectant. Of course'
If the ground is frozen, to dig up the
dirt will be impossible, but the yards
can be cleaned nnd fresh dirt and Ut
ter added at .least twice a week. Farm
and Fireside.
Care of the Horse.
The horso blanket should always be
ready to use afier a hard drive, for a
horse will chill vey quickly if left
standing In a cold wind. Forgetting
to take the blanket along has caused
many a horse to develop lung trouble
that no veterinarian has been able to
cure.
The shoes are carefully looked af
ter by every experienced horseman.
The horse that is to be kept in the
barn much of the time in winter should
be guarded against becoming soft.
Some farmers try to save money by
feeding their idle horses in hay dur
ing the period of slack work. The
result is that they begin work in the
spring with soft muscles and little en
ergy. Some grain should be given
during aTi the win-tor, enough to keep
the muscles in good form. Exercise is
absolutely necessary to keep a horse in
good trim, and there is no system of
feeding that can be developed that will
carry a horse through an idle winter
and Into spring with good, firm, mus
cles. Farmers' Home Journal.
Lime On Tobacco Land.
Sow lime on your land at least every
two years, if nod every year, to try
and Imagine how many grains of soil
It will help to disintegrate, making the
soil finer and the plant food more read
ily taken up, to make the stalk strong,
so that it may be more able to bear
the load of the loaf that you expect to
be grown upon It. I don't believe that
the plant will use more of the lime
ithan Is needed to make a good healthy
growth, and a leaf that will bear
slight approach to good burning qual
ities.
Don't be afraid to use lime or ashes
on any of your soils, for every bushel
you use will help In making your soils
finer, thus aiding each and every kind
of plant to make a more perfect
growth. Try to grow a little more
grass and hay or good fodder to In.
crease the dimensions of your manure
piles for stable manure not only grows
fine crops, but It helps through Its
chemical processes to tear holes Into
every grain of sand It comes against
It has been said that salt applied
to wheat will prevent It from lodging
down, not perhnps because the saline
moss enters Into the plant, but) the salt
rusts so many of the sand grains that
much of It Is taken up and formed
aroundi the outside, thus making the
glazing thicker therefore jiving the
straw or stalk more stiffness to resist
the 'action of nature in the form of
wind and storm. C. R. Crafts in the
American Cultivator.
Special Uses for Cement.
A sack of portland cement Is a very
useful thing to have for making quick
repairs. A hole In a drain pipe cair be
stepped in a few minutes with a little
cement mixed- with water thick as put
ty. A crack In a barrel can be stopped
this way. Hardwood floors may be
patched and nail holes filled so that
will not) leak.
A waterproof floor can be alld over
an old floor in a short time. Sweep the
old floor clean and dry and nail down
the loose boards. Cover with a layer of
heavy wire netting, tacking It down oc
caslcnally. Over this lay a layer of
concrete of one part portland cement,
throe pants clean sand, mixed with
water to a thin paste.
Smooth thoroughly, but It is to be
used by stock brush with an old broom
to make it rough, then let lb dry thor
oughly before using the floor. Gutters
n.a.y be put in where necessary. Holes
In an old shingled roof can be quickly
stopped by forcing a little cement put
ty through tho shingle where the leak
appears.
Some special uses to which cement
is being put are the making of bee
hives, brick for pavement and ordin
ary foundations, cement shingles for
roofing, grain bins in the form of
square box-like and round barrel-like
receptacles, etc The use of this excel
lent material for farm structures is
only just opaning up, and It is destined
to became the most important material
for general farm building. Ameri
can Cultivator.
Farm Notes.
Early spring calves pay best because
they are ready for market before the
prices go down.
Good men are still hard to obtain,
but there is a fair supply of the In
experienced, easy-going sort.
Onloms are kept best In a dry loft so
arranged that the air can circulate
among them. Cold hurts them but
little.
Da careful about the commission
houoe that offers higher prices than the
regMlar market, ft may 'be all right
and it may not.
Mixing three grades of apples as a
price getter is a back .number. You will
always get tho price of the lowest
grade for all throe.
Good farm hands are scarce, bnt
farmers have to put up with it by us
ing bettor machinery and exchanging
help with their neighbors.
The Wlnesap is one of the best mar
ket apples for our Southern mountain
region. It has the advantage of being
at home and requires no adaptation.
A healthy, clean cow in a clean barn,
milked by a clean man into clean uten
sils and immediately cooled and kept
cool Is the secret of our present supply
of clean, certified milk.
If you want good seed buy from
dealers who regard their reputation. If
farmers and gardeners will adopt this
rule generally there will soon be less
complaint about bad seeds.
To prevent moisture collecting in the
henhouse we pack the space between
the roof and the rafters with fine
straw. The straw takes up much ot.
the moisture and helps keep the house
dry.
"The Queen's Quair."
a certain dinner party, a well
At
known writer who was present was
asked by one of the company what ho
thought of Mr. Maurice Hewlett's
novel, "The Queen's. Quair." "Don't
you think that the author was a little
er improper in "The Queeu's
Quair?" was the question. The gen
tleman thus interrogated pointed out
that the manners and morals of the
time fully Justified Mr. Hewlett's work.
and the conversation was changed to
other topics. When the dinner was
nearly over a mild-looking gentleman
sitting next to the writer whispered,
I beg your pardon, Mr. , but
what did Mr. Hewlett do in Queen'a
Square?" M. A. P.
Chicago the Great Skunk Market..
Chicago is the greatest skunk fur
market In the world, and in fact some
authorities assert that the word Chi
cago is a corruption of an Indian word
meaning skunk. Chicago Tribune.
HEW STRENGTH FOR WOMElTf
BAD BACKS. -
Women who suffer with backache,
bearing dowa pain, dizziness and that
constant dull, tired
feeling, will find
comfort In the ad
vice of Mrs. James
T. WrlgU, of 611
Ooldsborough St.,
Easton, Md., who
says: "My back was
In a very bad way,
and when not painful
was so weak it felt
as If broken. A friend urged me to
try Doan's Kidney Pills, which I did,
and they helped me from the start.
It made me feel like a new woman,
an soon I was doing my work the
same as ever."
Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box.
Foster-Mllburn Co., Buffalo, N. T.
RELICS OF TITIAN FOUND.
Will and Other Documents of Artist
Held by Poor Widow.
Berlin. Titian's will and other rel
ics of the great artist have been dis
covered in the possession of a poor
widow at Schonberg, a suburb of this
city. There are 43 documents, all of
which have been pronounced authen
tic. Besides the will which covers eight
pages, there is another interesting
document, a letter written by the Em
peror Charles V. to Titian, Informing
him that he has been enobled, under
the title of Count of the Oberpfalz,
and that certain curious privileges
have been conferred upon him. This
letter Is countersigned by Titian him
self. What A Woman Will Not Do.
ThAro it ntl,l . 1,1 . J.
u. uu.. ,1.1,4 T""iru nuillu UUI UU U
rcRaln her lost beauty . Bhe ought to be fully"
as zealous In preserving hor good lookv
1 ha l,n.K A .i ,.1. ..11. T ..' v 11 w...
u,i,,v ,,(.... .i unuoB fnuiiiy JUOUt
olne or Lane's Tea is the most effMent aid In
Preserving a beautiful skin, and will do more
lan anything else to restore the roses to
faded checks. At all druggists and deal
ers, 250.
Encourage Rat Killers.
The Jananese eovarnment to wnclmr
a successful war on rats by paying
ior every aeaa one Brought in and
giving each rat slayer a ticket to t
luuery wun vaiuaoie prizes.
To Break In New Shoes. v
Alwavs shake in Allen's Fnnt-Eiuut
powder. It cures hot, sweating, acluW,'
swollen feet, corns, ingrowing nails ana
bunions. All druggists and shoe stores, 25c.
Don't accent an vsubRtltntA. R(unnlnmli
free. Allen 8. Olmsted, Le Roy, N. Y.
12
An Orgy of Sound.
If we can believe the German ad.
mlrers of Richard Strauss, the com
poser, his new opera, "Electra," Is
not only the latest thing in art, but
exemplifies In the most advanced de
gree the music of the future. Inci
dentally, we are told that the "Elec
tra" orchestra, Includes eight French
hours, seven trumpets, an E flat clar
inet, two Basset horns and a some
what unusual Instrument of aural tor
ture called the heckelphone. It also
appears that the bass, drum is at
times brutally hammered with a
birch club, and a Chinese gong Is the
subject of a cruel assault at the
hands of the wlelder of the triangle
rod. It Is not surprising to learn
that with these accessions the music
is likened at tlmeg to an orgy of
noise in which the human voice vain
ly endeavors to make itself heard.
The instruments shriek, and they
wall, and then they crash in a roof
raising cyclone of unshackled sound.
The 200 critics who were present at
the first performance appear to have
left the royal theater in Dresden
dazed and more or less stunned. One
of the best known of these critics,
the music editor of the Dresden An
zeiger, a paper which Is understood
to be under municipal control, Is
said to have forfeited his position by
nis scoffing references to the Strauss
work, and forbidden entry to the roy
al theater. Naturally, the Dresden
music lovers are divided into two
classes, Strauss and anti-Strauss, and
the violent squabble over the Wag
ner music of forty years ago, threat
ens to be duplicated.
If this prodigality of noise Is really
to be the music of the future,' the
unaccustomed human tympanum will
require strengthening and thoughen
lnlng as well as schooling. But the
Wagner music was finally assimilat
ed and the old accusation of boister
ous dissonance la rarely heard. Per
haps It will be the same way with
Strauss.
DIDN'T REALIZE
How Injurious Coffee Really Was.
Many persons go on drinking coffee
year after year without realizing that
it Is the cause of many obscure but
persistent ailments.
The drug caffeine In coffee and
tea, Is very Lite uric acid, and Is of
ten the cause ot rheumatic attacks
which, when coffee is used habitually,
become chronic.
A Washington lady said recently:
"I am sixty-five and have had a good
deal of experience with coffee. I
consider It very injurious and the
cause of many diseases. I am sure it
causes decay ot teeth In children.
"When I drank coffee I had sick
spells and still did not realize that
coffee could be so harmful, till about '
a year ago I had rheumatism In my
arms and fingers, got so nervous I
could not sleep and was all run down.
"At last, after finding that medi
cines did me no good, I decided to
quit coffee entirely and try Postum.
After using It six months I fully re
covered my health beyond all expec
tations, can sleep sound and my rheu
matism Is all gone." "There's a Rea
son." Name given by Postum Co., Battle
Creek, Mich. Read the famous little
book. "The Road to WellvUle," la
pkgs.
Ever read the above letter? A. new
one appears from time to time. They
are genuine, trme, and fall of human
Interest.