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After Many Years. 1
A Story of Two Ellens, a Schoolroom,
Some Mills, and a Syndicate.
SSSSSSS W. R. ROSE, In Cleveland Plain Dealer. 99999996
The man nt the desk had a worried
look. He lifted his pencil from the
memorandum slip and stared at the
figures then he shook his gray head
despondently.
i Again he added up the columns,
but the total rninn.tn.cd the same. The
pencil dropped from his fingers and
the memorandum was pushed aside.
He stared through the window bo
Bide him and the look of worry Blowly
deepened.
"It's no use to fight nny longer," ho
muttered. "I'll have to throw up my
hnnds." .Ie drew his breath sharply.
"How ran I tell Ellen?" ho half
moaned.
. A step at (ho door startled him. lie
looked around suddenly. A girl was
standing in thr doorway, u slender
girl, with a smiling ace.
"A pinny for your thoughts,
daddy,", rhe cried, as sho canio for
ward and laid her hand on the old
lujin'a r'::tiUU'r.
"Make it !. million pennies, dear,"
raid tlui i:;'.;!, halt seriously, "and
peril::; s I'M betray them."
The gl.l dropped into the chair
beside tin d?;k.
"Do you wonder why I am hero,
daddy?"
"If yoi went me to wonder, dear.
Of course, I've cased to wonder at
anything you do. Is till;; soineihlur;
ery special?"
"Yes, daddy.'
"Then it. can't bo money."
"No, daddy."
Tier loci; was bright and yet te::
der. "I a:n here, daddy, because I was
sure you wanted me. I know you
don't believe in that. Hut it is quite
true. I felt you culling me, daddy. I
felt that you needed me. He very
fair, daddy. Wasn't I in your mind?"
His look grew gentle.
"You are always in my mind,
Ellen."
She patted his hand.
"Yes, daddy. Hut wasn't I In your
mind more especially this morning?"
He hesitattd a moment.
" Yes. "
Ho turned away as ho uttered the
word and stared again through the
window.
Tho girl drew nearer and her white
fingers tightened on his hand.
"Now, sec here, daddy," she quick
ly said, "you are not playing fair with
1110. You are keeping something hid
den that I should know. You do It In
a very clumsy way, daddy. A child
could 830 through you. Come, now,
'fess up, daddy. Is it busines3?"
"Yes," ho murmured.
The girl suddenly smiled.
"I was afraid it was you, daddy. 1
was afraid you had been to Dr. Ar
thur and ho had told you something
you didn't want me to know. And so
it's only tho business? What about
It, daddy?"
He turned' and looked at her.
"It's In a very bad way, dear," he
nnswered. "I had made up my mind
to tell you to-day. "
Tho girl nodded.
"That's what drew me down here,"
she gravely said. "Go on, daddy."
His air of trouble came back.
"It looks, my dear, as If yourx father
tvas a bankrupt: The mills have
been going wrong. .The Acme syndi
cate Is too much for us. They under
sell us and their grip on the market
can't be shaken off. We are doomed,
Ellen, doomed."
The girl gently stroked tho man's
band.
"That's bad, daddy, very bad. I
know how you must feel after all
these years of toil and upbuilding.
But be philosophical, daddy and
don't you daro worry about me. I
can do my share toward supporting
the family and there's no doubt I
need the discipline. I've been a much
pampered girl, daddy, but you haven't
spoiled me. Cheer up, dear. After
everything else is gone, we will still
have each otb,er."
He raised his eyes and she saw that
there were tears iu them.
"Why, daddy!"
She rose quickly and put her arms
about him. And for p little while
they were silent.
"Now wo really must cheer up,
daddy," she presently said, and smil
ingly kissed his cheek. "Don't you
laugh, but something tells me hope
and help are on the way."
He shook' his head at her.
"I know of no way la which' help
can come," ho said.
"And yet it is coming," the girl
persisted. "You know my gift, daddy.
You will see that I am right." Her
gaze turned toward the window.
"YCho is that, daddy?"
He looked out.
A young man hnd paused In front
of the office and was staring up at the
sign over the door. He seemed to
hesitate. Then he moved along.
"You are nervous, my dear." said
the father. "Can't a presentable
looking young man pause on the side
walk without attracting our united
attention?"
, The girl suddenly held up a finger.
' "Hush, daddy."
Somebody waB rapping at the door.
"Come in," the father called.
The young man who had halted on
the sidewalk appeared in the door
way. , f
"f-beg pardon if I lntpude," he said
and drew back.
"There is no intrusion," replied the
man at thedesk. "Come in."
The girl suddenly arose and pass
ing1 back of her father took a chair
near the window.
: The Joiing man came forward, hat
In hand, and tho man at the desk
pointed to the chair the girl had just
vacated.
"Thank you," said the young man.
"My errand Is a slightly peculiar one.
it may soem trivial to a man of busi
ness. I camo In to make nn Inquiry."
Ho hesitated.
"Go on," said the older man.
The young man looked about the
room and bis eyes encountered the
gazo of tho girl. IIo looked back.
"This Isn't the place to Intrudo n
touch of sentiment," ho resumed,
"but It Is sentiment that drew me in.
May I ask If you are Mr. David Eur
rlil?" "I hid," tho older man responded.
"The name of Burrlll Is not a com
mon one," said tho stranger. "But it
Is a familiar one to me. It la so
familiar that when I saw It above
your ofllco door I stopped short. Then
I entered. I hope you will accepbthe
explanation I am about to offer. "Let
nr; first say that the name of Unrrlll
Is fondly remembered and cheulshcd
by my father. Ho believes that one
who bore that name hail a marked In
fluence on his early years, lie has
often told 1110 how she aided and en
couraged him. Tho Impression sho
made on bis young life has not been
effaced by the years. It would picmo
my father to know that the name sho
boro drew my attention. IIo would
feel that It wr.3 a tribute, even though
n small oncjto Ellen "iirrlU's gentle
memory."
hi
PI
111
fl fohn Musi
pi
A man once came to me nnd said, "What do you think
I had better do with my sou?" And In telling him, it seemed
to me that I had somewhat embodied my feeling about the
question of tho nrt student. "Your son," I said, "undoubt
edly hns some talent for nrt, Btart him In art If you like,. but
first of nil, I'd make a man of hi in because ho will then do
well what he pleases." For It seems to me that before a man
a
tries to express anything to tho world he must recognize In Jj
himself nn Individual, a new one, very distinct, from others. J
Walt Whitman did tills, nnd thnt Is why I think his name so L
often comes to me. The one great cry of Whitman was for a fu
man to find himself, to understand the fine thing he really la !
If liberated. Most people, either . by training or Inheritance, (n
count themselves at the start as "no good," or "second rate" Pi
or "ordinary," whereas In everyone there Is tho grent mys- !j
tery; every Blngle person in the world hns evidence to give L
of Ms own Individuality, tirnvldimr bp hns ncnuired Mia full IU
; power to make clear this evidence. !
Ho paused and again his gazo mot
thnt of tho girl. And tho girl sud
denly arose and came forward and put
out a slender hand.
"Thank you, sir," she said, nnd her
voice trembled. "This Is a very beau
tiful thing you have done. We are
used to hearing Ellen Burrill praised,
but your tributo is different It Is so
unexpected, so sweet and flue and sin
cere." The young man's face flushed as he
resumed his seat.
"Then I was not wrong In assuming
that you might be of tho same kin?"
The man at tho desk slowly nodded.
"Ellen Burrill wu3 my ui.-i'.or." ,
A smile suddenly lighted the young
man's face.
"Then you were the little D.-.vy, the
young brother whom Ellen v,a3 edu
cating? She often talked of you of
her hopes and plans for your future."
.The older mnn gravely nodded.
"I am David," he answered. "Ellon
was both Bister and mother to me."
He turned toward the girl. "This Is
my daughter, another Ellen Burrill."
The young man bowed.
"You must be proud of your name,"
he said.
"I am proud," replied the girl;
"very proud."
The stranger looked back to tho
older man.
"Would you care to listen to some
things my father told me concerning
this teacher whose memory he holds
so dear?"
"Yes, yes," tho older man an
swered, and the girl suddenly drew
her chair nearer the stranger.
"Perhaps," hesitated the young
man, "the time is not an opportune
one."
"The time Is your own," said the
older man.
The young man still hesitated.
"My father was a poor boy," he
presently began. "His homo was a
poor one, there were other children
and he knew but llttlo parental re
straint. He grew up wild and law
less if the term can be applied to a
child. His days in schocl were stormy
ones, nnd usually there was punish
ment waiting for him when he
reached home. But somehow he
managed to keep his place through
tho primary and intermediate grades
and finally found himself in the high
est or grammar grade. He was ten
years old, rude and mischievous, and
preferring school because it was more
comfortable than home. One day,
after he had been especially annoy
ing, a gentle hand was laid on his
shoulder, and looking up, he saw a
now teacher smiling down at hm. He
cringed, expecting a blow, but the
new .teacher only looked down and
said: 'I want to talk to you after
school.' That talk after school was
something my-father will always re
member. It was tho first time that
anybody had thought it worth while
to speak to him pleasantly. It was
not a sermon that he received In that
memorable half hour. ' The new
teacher talked to Tiim about himself
about the great world outside, its
chances, its rewards. Somehow uhe
contrived to arouse the boy's ambi
tion. . Ho suddcnlv felt thnt hn was
meant tor better and bigger things j
than could be found In that dull
suburb of the tame old town. Bha
was only a young girl, this new teach
er, but no one's words had ever im
pressed him as hers did. He came
out of that dingy schoolroom a differ
ent boy. The next day he found that
the teacher's name was Burrlll, Ellen
Burrlll. Of course the change in
the boy was not Immediately ap
parent. He was still mischievous,
still a source of troublo to tho other
teachers. But he studied harder, he
worked harder. And all the time his
expanding mind held fast to tho
things Ellen Burrlll told him in that
wonderful half hour. Sometimes he
hnd a chnnce to walk home with her,
and when one of his companions
called him 'teacher's pet' he fought
with him, nnd when the others inter
fered ho fought with them nnd was
only subdued when a swiftly thrown
stone knocked him senseless. That
hurt kept him in bed for almost a
week, and Ellen Burrill camo to see
htm and brought him a big orange
and a llttlo bunch of flowers and a
glass of jelly, nnd rend to him from a
wonderful book called 'Ivanhoe.' She
let him take the book when ha was
well and he read it lovingly every
word. Then came another wonderful
book, 'Tho Last Days of Pompeii,' and
after this there were histories and
Plutarch. He fairly devoured them
nil, tho teacher he was as tall as
she was when he was twelve helping
htm by suggestion and explanation
and frequently testing his knowledge.
Ills association with her had im
proved him In other ways. Ho was
more careful about his personal ap
pearance and his manners must have
Improved greatly. Chances came to
him to earn small sums of money on
the outside. IIo worked hard. Ho
studied hard. IIo meant to rise. He
was eager to get out Into the world
Tina Himself.
and do the wonderful things those
other poor boys had done. And yet
when his last day in tho old building
came and he realized that they must
separate, that ho would know this
sweet and gracious helpfulness no
more, he wished for the moment that
ho had failed In his examinations In
stead of doing so well. And when the
teacher told him how proud she was
of him and how she knew he was sure
to become a good and worthy man,
and when nobody was looking sud
denly stooped nnd lightly kissed his
cheek as she bade his goodby, he
broke down, big boy that he was, and
cried. Well, tho chance ho hoped for
came, and it led him almost across
tho continent and involved him In
many serious struggles. But through
4hem all ho never forgot those part
ing words of the little teacher. It
was nearly ten years later when he
heard her namo again and then she
was dead."
Ho stopped nnd looked around.
Ti:o older man had turned and was
Bturiug through tho window and the
girl was crying.
For a litile while no one spoke.
Then lha girl looked up.
"And this boy who knew my Aunt
Ellen wa3 your father?"
"Yes."
"May we ask your name?"
Tho young man flushed.
"Pardon me," he said. "I was for
getful. My namo la Greer Dunham
Ureer."
The mnn nt the desk suddenly
turned around.
"Greer?" he echoed. "Is your fa
ther the railway man?"
"Yes."
"The Greer of the Acme syndi
cate?" "I believe he is the Acme syndi
cate." The oldc man drew a long breath.
"Will you pardon mo If I ask what
brlnss you here, Mr. Greer?"
The young man did not hesitate.
VI came to" make some inquiries
concerning tho Lincoln mills."
The older man nodded.
"I thought so. This is the office of
the Lincoln mills. I am their owner."
The young man gave a little start.
"This is a day of unusual happen
ings," he hastily said.
"You know the condition of my
mills?" said the older man Bteadlly.
"Yes, I think I know.
"If you do not know," said the
older man, "I can quickly show you."
The young man suddenly smiled.
"Wait," he said. "Here's an idea.
It's all mine, and what is much bet
ter, it will meet with my father's ap
proval. , He will like it because.it
gives him the chance to show In a
somewhat roundabout way his re
gard for the memory of his teacher.
You are a Burrlll, you are of the kin.
She loved and toiled for you. Listen
and tell me if this meets with your
approval. The Lincoln mills will not
be closed. You will continue their
owner and operator the syndicate
agreeing to contract for every yard
of cloth you make at tho prevailing
market price. Docs that suit you?"
The older man's lip trcmbied. For
a moment he could not speak. i
"Can you do this?" he murmured.
"Trust me," laughed the young
man, and put out his hand.
The girl came forward. Her wet
eyes were glistening.
"Mr. Greer," she said, "I 1 knew
that someone was bringing us glad
tidings. There, there, daddy, you
know it's true. If you will come to
dinner with us I will tell you all
about It."
The young man Bmiled.
"I will gladly come," ho said, "both
for the dinner nnd the story."
"And for a keepsake that I want
to send your father," snld the girl,
"In remembrance of my Aunt Ellen.
It Is the copy of 'Ivanhoe' that she
lonned htm In that time so long ago.
And I will write In It, 'In remom
brance of the Ellon you loved, from
tho Ellen who loves you.' "
"Fine," murmured tho young man,
Dresden's Fine Foints.
Ry 11EV. im. E. C. BASS.
' It halted nt our feet and held our
gaze for a week, and every day this
city of art, and culture, nnd enterprise
grew upon us. How enn 600,000 peo
ple have so clenn and sweet streets?
There Is less In Dresden to offend the
senses than In any other city on either
side of the ocean. No wonder that
resident Americans love their adopted
home, and many como hither to tarry
days and weeks. It is a great show,
every way first class Just tho win
dow exhibits of ono of those streets!
The finest of goods nnd jewelry and
pictures, most attractively arranged,
all nlong the way for blocks! If New
York and Chicago have as fine goods
on sale, their store windows are not
so rich to the eyes of gazers and pass-ers-by.
The picture gallery Is Dresden's
finest show. No words can adequate'
ly describe any grent or beautiful
thing. We must see and feel In or
der to see well. Hundreds of these
paintings are so fine that any one of
them would be n great treasure In a
home or In a small collection, but in
such a wilderness of pictures very
few really attract attention nnd abide
In the memory of the sightseer. The
following held us: "The Tribute
Money," ".Tudas Bargaining With the
Jewish Rulors," "Christ Among tho
Doctors of the Law," and the "Slstlno
Madonna." This last Is counted Ra
phael's masterpiece. Once Been, it
must remain a cherished memory.
The authorities were wise In assign
ing to this picture, a room by Itself.
But my very amateur opinion is that
they can and should bo wiser still.
The light does not properly fall upon
this canvas. A different room one
very differently lighted is needed. A
score or two of people can sit or stand
In this room, but only one good view
point can be found, and hardly a half
dozen can get that viewpoint at once
and that one viewpoint is not good
enough. Yet, to see this one picture
a little, and to see It Imperfectly, pays
for a long journey. Luther nnd Ra
phael were born In the same year
(14 S3), and both wrought greatly for
their own day and for all later age3.
Vorbs of wisopsr.
Love Is a habit. Get It.
'A perfect man is never interesting.
Some men in hunting for dcarof-
teu get swamped.
Women delight In remnants of any
thing but a mnn.
Marriage is often the chief mourner
at love'a funoral.
Love is tho loaf of life, but some
cannot even get a slice.
The evil men do is forgotten, but
with a woman It becomes history.
A muff is a receptacle for a girl's
lunch and sometimes for "holding
hands."
To a woman a moon without a man
Is like a mine of money on a desert
island.
When a songbird seems to warble
Inwardly presumably she Is the un
derstudy. Strong men are not afraid of box
ing gloves, but let a girl give thera
the mitten and they go to pieces.
A girl, no matter how much in love
she is, would rather share a man's
theatre tickets than his troubles.
People who live In air castles are
seldom troubled with any sort of
"draughts."
At the foot of life's primer class
stands thw mistaken man who thinks
he knows it all.
Once a man told a secret to a dumb
woman. He forgot she could talk on
her fingers.
The most fascinating thing about
being a woman Is wondering what
fool thing she will do next.
If he be not nice to me, what care
I how nice he be? is the way a girl
sizes up the man proposition.
One of the psychological mysteries
Is what makes a blondined woman
always wear blue earrings.
The red headed girl adores the con
siderate person who speaks of her
carroty hair as being "auburn."
Sometimes absence maketh the
heart to ponder on whether a perma
nent change wouldn't bo an improve
ment. It brothers talked to other girls as
they' do to their own sisters very few
men would succeed in persuading
anybody to marry them. From
"Minerva's Musings," in the New
York Telegram.
. The submarine cables of the world
cover a total of 278,203 miles, dis
tributed anion" 2053 cables. Three
fourths of this total mileage is owned
by private companies.
filro For Sheep,
Celling a better sire to head tho
flock of ulieep Is simply a matter of
economy. The cost may scorn exorbi
tant, but tho superior type of lambs
thus secured next spring will rauso
you to consider tho higli-tired Blre a
safe nnd profitable Investment, after
all. Farmers' Home Journal.
Coins nl k Fiber,
When the green stalks nre given to
bogs care should be used to prevent
cnttlo from having access to the
woody fiber which tho swlno will
leave after chewing tho stalks. Pigs
rellBh the stalk for the FweetnoBs In
It, but leave enough saecharlno matter
in the fiber to make It attractive to
cattle, especially the younger stock.
This liber Is Indigestible, nnd the cat
tle, If allowed to pick It up, will fre
quently eat n sufficient quantity to
rauso impaction and harmful If not
fntnl results. It Is not safe to let cat
tle Into yards where swlno are given
green cornstalks. From Coburn's
"Swlno la America."
Grind the Corn For Finishing rigs.
Fattening hogs will usually finish
faster on cornmoal than on shelled
corn, nnd many farmers favor corn
meal for that reason. Ecperlmcnls
covering the quantity fed pinlnly
show, however, that hogs given corn
meal eat more feed In a given time
thnn those on shelled corn. When
both tho feed eaten and the gains
made nro taken Into consideration the
profit In favor of cornmeal Is consid
erably less than many suppose. Corn
and cob meal has been shown to have
about the same value as pure corn
meal; If any advantage Is had from
corn nnd cob meal, as Is claimed by
some stockmen, It, no doubt, largely
comes from tho bulk furnished by
tho particles of cob, which by render
ing the contents of the stomach les3
compact or more porous helps to their
easier and more complete digestion.
Coburn's "Swine in America."
Frost Proof Bits,
For material take any piece of
leather ns long as tho bit and wldo
enough to reach around it, then sew
It round the bit, Now cut out two
circular pieces of leather three inches
In diameter like the Illustration. Cut
them half way across and make a
round hole In the centre. Slip these
around the ends of the bit and ew
up the cut. Now you have as good a
bit as you could buy. Everett E.
Tinker, Ellsworth, Mo.
Losses in Mnnnre.
One of our experiment stations has
shown by careful investigation that
when the stable manure Is piled up
and left exposed to tho rains the loss
from leaching of the fertile elements
Is very large. The New Jersey station
finds that manure exposed for 100
days lost over one-half of nitrogen,
one-half of the phosphoric acid and
the same proportion of the potassium
had been lost. More than one-half
of the constituents had been lost by
an exposure of less than four pounds.
Work from other experiment stations
confirms this.
A great deal of valuable manure is
also lost in badly arranged stables,
where there are poor facilities for re
covering the manure. The valuable
liquid manure Is lost by drainage.
The best way to save all the fertile
elements In manure is to haul it on
the fields and meadows and spread it
evenly .over the land. Washed into
the soil It is preserved for the next
crop.
Soy Brnns For Hogs.
The Wisconsin Agricultural Exper
iment Station compared soy bean
meal and wheat middlings for pork
production in three separate experi
ments in as many years. Two-thirds
of the grain ratio was cornmeal In
each case. In each of the experi
ments the largest gains were made on
the soy bean rations. Soy beans
proved about ten per cent, superior
to wheat middlings for pork produc
tion, figuring the cost of tho feed3 as
the same.
The Indiana Agricultural Experi
ment Station compared rations of two
parts of cornmeal and one part of soy
bean with cornmeal and wheat mid
dlings in equal proportions and with
five parts of cornmeal and one part of
tankage for pork production. The
soy bean ration produced the largest
daily gains, and this with the smallest
quantity of feed consumed for each
pound of gain. ,
The Kansas Agricultural Experi
ment Station has several times tested
the value of soy bean in combination
with cornmeal and with kaflr meal In
comparison with the two latter feeds
alone in feeding hogs. The (feeds
were mixed in the proportion of four
fifths corn or kafir and one-fifth soy
beans. Larger gains, varying from
thirteen to thirty-seven per cent.,
were made in every case on the mixed
rations than on corn or kaflr alone.
With cornmeal alone 100 pounds
of gain cost 13.92. with cornmeal and
soy bean meal $3.73 and with kaflr
meal nnd soy benn meal $3.37 For
these computations the value ot corn
meal was fixed nt $14 a ton, kaflr
meal nt $13 a ton and soy beans at
$2." a toil, or soventy-fivo cents a
bushel.
r.rnrds nnd Laying Capacity.
Laying capacity varies greatly
among Individual hens. This has
been dlKcovered by the use of trap
nests. Experiment station records
sllow that hens vary from 230 eggs
per year to no eggs. Frequently a
good looking hen, in good health, will,
not pay for the food she ents, while
nnritjier hen of tho same breed nnd
with tho same care, will lay eggs,
worth three or four times tho cost of
the food. ,
It Is not known that thereIs a
typo or shape characteristic of heavy
laying hens, othcrwlso it would be an
easy matter to rid the flock of the
unprofitable fowls. The tiso of the
trap nest Involves considerable labor,
more than a farmer, keeping only a
few hens, can profitably give, but he
should endeavor to secure ''pedi
greed" males from some of the experi
ment stations or, from reputable pri
vate breeders In order to breod up the
laying qualities of his f.ocl:. .
Tho smaller breeds, such as Leg
horns, are usually the rno3t profit
able for egg production. The .Leg
horns shou'd lay as many eggs as the
Plymouth Rocks and breeds of that
kind on one-fourth less food. But
the question of profit does not hinge
on egg yield alone. Large returns
will be secured from the sales of the
Plymouth Roeks for market, which
will about balance the difference in
tho coat of feeding. Weekly Witness.
Plain Horse Seine,
Centlo colts make gentle horses.
An excitable and nervous horseman
usually owns horses of tho same tem
perament. Wo never yet have SPen the colt
that could not ba turned Into a pet by
kind words nnd gentle handling.
If you want a horse trained to suit
you in every respect you must do tho
training yourself, and begin when he
Is a suckling colt.
A severe or Eo-called "safety" bit
often causes n horse to beeome vi
cious or unruly. Bo sure the animal
needs such a bit before you use it on
him. i
Don't try to shun the automobiles.
They've come to stay, and the sooner
we train our teams to drive past one
without being frightened, the better
for us, tbo horse and tho autolsts.
Get rid of the kicky horse at once,
lie may be valuable as far ns his
working qualities go, but if somo of
the children should happen to stray
up behind his heels you may regret
having kept him after It Is too late.
We frequently see a man (?) strike
his horse with a whip and then yank
the poor, dumb animal back when he
plunges and tries to get free. Such a
man ought to be knocked down right
on the spot, and kicked a time or two
for falling eo hard.
When tho skittish horse' Bhles or
gets seared, handle him gently and
speak kindly to him for a few sec
onds. Instead of whipping. Jerking
and talking In a loud tone, as most
men do. Soothe him, rather than un
nerve nnd etcite him by causing him
to think hn is going to be hurt.
The balky horse is a nuisance you
cannot afford to waste time with on
the farm nor any place else, for that
matter. Usually, the poor animal has
been ruined beyond redemption by
over-loading, and the sooner you get
rid of him the quicker you'll make a
big saving In time and temper. Be
sides you don't want him to spoil an
other good pulling horse, and that is
Just what he is liable to do it you
keep him.
The man who flics Into a passion
and kicks his faithful horse in the
handiest place ought to be forced to
remove his shoes and stockings and
repeat the operation barefoot, or have
some one administer a sound kick on
the same part of his anatomy that he
kicked the horse! It might show blm
the error of his way. In fact it would
seem a good thing if the owner were
compelled to take the place of the
horso now and then. It would be far
better for the horse at least. . ,
The horse that seems to be suscep
tible to frequent attacks of the colic
Is a risky piece of flesh to keep around
the farnt. The fatality of this dis
ease Is sometimes so sudden that
there is little chance of securing the
services of a vf-terinarlan, or of ad
ministering relief at a stage that
would be of any benefit. Such an ani
mal usually has some strikins good
qualities about him, but you can't let
thesn tempt you to hold onto hjm till
hi3 loss is total to you. Soft him, get
a healthy animal, and be on the safe
side of the fence. M. Albortus Cov
erdell. In the Indiana Farmer. ,
nub For Parents Only.
Or.s of the newest ideas In club or
ganization is tho Fathers and Moth
ers' Club in Boston. As the name
indicates, only parents will be. eligible
to membership, and the object Is to
benefit children. The club purposes
to interest children in literature
through free books, magazines and
lectures. Summer outings for little
ones also will bo arranged, and these
trips will include expert instruction
In nature. One ot the finest projects
of the club is to take delicate chil
dren from the tenement houses and
convalescent children from hospitals
jnd give them trained care In a coun
try home. New York Press.-