River Falls journal. [volume], September 17, 1903, Image 6

About River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019

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r
When the Prince
Came
By ANNIE SHANNON MONROE
l J
(Copyright, 1903, by Daily Story Pub, Oo.)
FJT E had strolled to the farther end of
£ the veranda, found a secluded seat,
anc lighted a cigar. For a moment he
looked back on the scene of warmth
and beauty he had just quitted, then,
shrugging his shoulders, turned coldly
from it, and tried to penetrate the d-ep
darkness that hid the placid waters of
the lake.
Presently he leaned forward to shake
free the cigar ash. and discovered her
sitting on the top step of the porch, half
hidden from view by the vines. He re
called having seen her during the past
few days—a new guest at the hotel —and
she seemed to be alone. Now, with the
freedom of the summer time he spoke;
not that she interested him, but she was
alone.
“Not dancing?"
“No, not dancing,” she answered. Her
words and manner showed an indiffer
ence equal to his own.
“I was thinking,” volunteered she, “of
my first party.”
"And I,” he said, “was also thinking
of a young girl’s first party—a girl I
knew once.” He puffed at his cigar.
She leaned wearily back against the
vine clad pillar, her slender hands
clasped about her knee.
“A man is born,” he mused, "and
straightway he begins to work. The cen
tral thread of his life-loom is to make
money, to have a home of his own, and
some day marry a sweet-faced girl
whose hair falls away from her temples,
softly, as does his mother’s. That is
all he asks.” He paused a moment and
plucked viciously at the leaves on the
vine.
“And then?” she asks.
“One night he meets her. It is her first
party. She is young and innocent and,
he feels instinctively, good. Her hair
curls softly, dimples hide in her cheek
to peep out when she laughs; the
blushes come easily. He v/oos her, wins
her, marries her. He is sublimely hap
py. One day he arrives home unexpect
edly. A man —his best friend —leaves
"AND SHE MARRIES THE OTHER
MAN.”
In haste, guilt is written in his face and
in hers. In madness, he denounces her.
She meets his reproach in open-eyed in
rocence as one misunderstood. She
uses her dimples well, her dimples and
her wide blue eyes and her blushes.
Bah! they sicken me. They are but
sheep’s clothing. Well, he gives her a
divorce. Society is not so shocked, for
society is used to these things.” He
shrugged his shoulders and lighted an
other cigar.
“Society,” she murmured, half aloud.
“And she marries the other man,” he
continues, his voice hard and metallic,
“and she goes on dimpling and brush
ing. while the new husband loves and
humors and pets and, I suppose, trusts
her.”
“And the first husband?” ventured the
listener.
“He? Oh, he smokes cigars on summer
hotel verandas aftd wonders if it ever
comes back to her, that first party.”
She sighed.
He puffed at his cigar, looking out to
the water, where a tiny light moved up
and down with the motion of a yacht,
harbor bound. Presently she spoke, her
eyes, too, on the swaying light.
“A girl is born and her first dream is
of a doll. Later the dream children of
her future fill her brain. She names
them; she sees their curls, brown and
golden. They are sweet realities in her
fancy. Still later she begins to dream of
the Prince who is to come; her noble
Prince who is to love her forever. Oh,
how she loves the Prince! long, long,
before his coming. Then, one night she
goes to hex first party, radiantly happy;
her heartbeats quicken with the joy of
living, of feeling admiring eyes upon
her. The freshness, the newness, the
wonder of it all, dazzle her. She has
crossed the border into fairyland out
or which the Prince is to come. She
waits; someone comes —she was expect
ing the Prince —this must be he.”
The light on the mast of the distant
boat had disappeared, and she was lean-
ONCT ON A TIME.
When night gits round an’ supper’s ate.
Dad lights his pipe fer smokin’.
An' gits th' newspaper an’ sez
To me. a kinder jokin’:
“Now, Bub. I’ll take yer wool off ’less
You hurry up those slippers.”
(He knows he cou'd’n, ’cause it’s took
A’ready with th’ clippers.)
An’ then he sets an’ smokes a»’ reads.
An’ mother sets a-sewin’,
A-makin' clo'es fer sister—s'priso
You how that kid is growin’!
An’ I jes’ sorter wait aroun’.
A-hopin dad’s most through It,
’Cause then he’ll tell me ’bout th’ tala
’T's got a giant to it.
“They ain’t no news but polykits,”
Bimeby dad sez a-yawnin’,
“An’ John Smith’s paintin’ of his fenct,
An’ Green’s put up an awnln’;”
So then I climb up on his knee.
An’ he sez: “You young urchin,”
An’ rubs his whiskers ’gainst my face,
An’ thinks I need a birchin’.
“But, wal,” he sez. “onct on a time
Was Jack th' Giant Killer —”
And tells about th’ drefflest things,
’T jes’ plumb skeer a feller;
An tpw Jack sworded. off their heads.
ing forward, her chin resting tm h«
hand, looking into the geraniums the',
clustered at her feet
“And she was expecting a Prince,” b«
repeated, making wreaths of the smoke
that came from his parted lips.
"She thinks he is the Prince. Her
engagement is announced. Her mother
is delighted and her friends look on with
envy; everybody is pleased. Then she
marries and steps out of fairyland, and,
j lo! she finds the Prince but a thing of
clay. He is no prince. She shrinks from
him; his attentions annoy her; his
blandishments disgust her. With the
full realization that she is tied for life
* to a man with whom she has nothing in
common, she grows melancholy, in time,
ill. She longs to get away from this
daily life of pretense. One day she slips
away to a quiet summer hotel by a lake
in the mountains. She is happy just to
be free. She feels sure she will not live
long—an inherited heart trouble gives
her reason to hope for release, and her
only positive desire is to die before she
is found; before she must say to the
world that she can never go back to a
man whom the law says she must own,
but who in her spirit is not her hus
band.”
"And the man?”
“It is sad for him. There are many
worse men. He loves in his way, and
he has consciously done nothing to of
fend. lam sorry for the man.”
“Good night,” she said, rising.
"Good night,” he answered, absently,
and sat on smoking.
The season was over. Guests had been
leaving every day, till the house was de
serted, the parlors cold and gloomy. Still
they stayed—he and she. She had grown
more fragile, and the sharp pain at her
heart came often, though she did not let
him know. The autumn frosts were
painting her pale cheeks with an un
natural flush, that, man-like, he failed
to understand.
Th the day came when they were
the oil y guests in the great hotel and
they were told that the house was to
be closed for the winter. This brought
the first realization that an end must
come, and like startled children just
awakened, they looked into each other’s
eyes, read life’s meaning and looked
away again.
“I will not go for a walk this morn
ing,” she said, falteringly, and turned
from him and passed up the broad stairs.
He hesitated a moment, then started
off alone.
She ascended the stairs, entei*ed her
room and closed the door. Then she
sat on the edge of the bed, shivering.
And so the end had come—and they
must go away. Strange the way life held
on! She coughed and drew her cape
closely about her. She wished there
was a fire, that she might be comfortable
on this last day in the mountains —with
him. A sudden new desire came to her —
a desire to tell him, before they should
part, of her great love. She would write
it, all—and then slip away before he
should return. In feverish haste she
opened the desk and took up her pen.
How should she address him ? They had
given each other no names; but one
word came to her.
“My husband! ” The words once writ
ten unlocked the full flow of her con
fession. “This will startle you,” she
wrote on. "You cannot know all the
fullness in that word to me. I have never
used it before, but oh, you are my hus
band! my all! my own! Have you
thought me cold, feelingless ? How little
you know a woman’s heart! How little
you read a nature such as mine, for I
am weak and human and we have been
so happy together. I say ‘have been’
for I have already put you out of ray life
and you seem so far away, you and those
days of long talks, of long walks, of
long silences. Oh, my husband! You are
my Prince! You are my King! There
is none other! And yet I must go alone
the long, long way. But you will come,
my own, and you will find this after I
am gone, and you will know —you will
know. What will you do when I am
gone forever from you, my own? Will
you often think of me? Will you re
member the long walks, and the long
talks and the long silences?
" ‘My husband!’ how I like to say it—
those words I have spoken in my heart
to no other man —”
The pen trailed off in a scrawl. She
fell weakly back on the bed, letting the
loose sheets flhll about her. The maid
rapped, bringing a tray of luncheon.
She told the girl to place it on the table,
she would eat directly, but the tea
cooled, forgotten. V
"I will rest a little longer,” she said to
herself, faintly, "then I must finish my
letter—and—and go.” She looked down
at the white pages. There was so much
more to be said, so much —so much —but
she would feel stronger after awhile. She
drew the covering more closely around
her; she shivered from head to foot;
then she lay very still.
There came a rap at the door, the knob
turned, and a man stepped inside. He
might have been a merchant or a stock
broker and he was not young. He paused
abruptly and gazed at the sleeper.
"Margaret!” He spoke sharply, but
there was no answer. He drew nearer
and looked closely at the white face on
the pillow. It was the sleep of death.
"Margaret! ” he repeated, in a strained,
metallic voice, in which there was no
sorrow, no tenderness. Then his eye fell
on the loose sheets of paper still grasped
in her hand. He drew them away and
read. The papers fell to the floor; he
dropped beside the still form and clasping
it closely in his arms wept aloud.
"My little wife,” he cried brokenly.
"True at the last —true to your hus
band.”
An’ all th’ blood ’twas makin’,
An’ Jim’ny Gee! when bedtime comes
I sneak upstairs Jes’ shakin’!
—Trueman Robert Andrews, in Leslie’s
Monthly.
Loit and Found.
“I’m glad to notice,” said old Rox
ley, "that young Poorman is less per
sistent in his attentions to you.”
“Yes?” his willful daughter queried.
“Yes, he seemed to be losing heart,
and —”
“O! he’s lost it completely, but he’s
found another.” —Catholic Standard.
Only Remedy.
Young Man —Doctor, I feel wretched
all the time, nothing interests me, have
no appetitie and can’t sleep. What
would you advise me to do?
Old Doctor —Marry the girl, sir; marry
the girl—Chicago Daily News.
A Conjecture.
Clara —Have you seen Miss Passay’s
fiance? Where on eartfci did he come
from?
Ethel —Possibly he came in answer to
I an advertisement. —Brooklyn A.i£e.
THE OLD WOMAN AND THE EMPTY CASK.
Find the Woman’s Companion.
An old Woman found an Empty Cask, from which some choice
old wine had lately been drawn off.
She applied her nose to the bung-hole, and sniffed long and eagerly
at the delicious aroma which lingered in the dark interior of the
Empty Cask.
‘‘Oh, how good must this wine have been!” she exclaimed, “when
the very dregs are so delicious.”
MORAL.—It is no difficult matter to form a just notion of what the prime of
anyone’s life was from the spirit and flavor which remain even in the last dregs.
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.
So Thought Tli In Victim of the Flonta
mid FlinK'M of Outrageous
Fortune.
“Tom,” said Jack, as they lighted
tbeir cigars after the class reunion din
ner, relates the New York Times, "tell
me something about yourself. What
have you been doing all these years
since you left college?”
“Well, Jack, I’ve had my ups and
downs. I was just about to start in busi
ness in New York when my physician
ordered me to go west for my health.”
“Oh! Too bad! I’m sorry to hear
that, old man.”
"Well, it wasn’t so bad, either. I
started a ranch in Arizona and made a
good deal of money.”
"I’m glad to hear that, Tom. That
was fine.”
"Well, I don’t know about that; it
wasn’t so good, either, for after I’d been
running the ranch awhile a murrain
came along and killed off most of my
stock.”
“Too bad, too bad!”
“Well, it wasn’t so bad, after all, for
it drove me from ranching to Denver,
and in Denver I met the giri who was
fated to become my wife.”
“Congratulations, old boy; that was
fine.”
"Well, I don’t know; it wasn’t so fine,
either, for she turned out to have quite
a temper, and she didn’t make me very
happy.”
sorry to hear it, old chap.
That must have been a blow. That was
bad, bad.”
"Well, it wasn’t so bad, either. We
were scratching along, living on next
to nothing, when my wife’s uncle died
ind .'eft her a lot of money. We built a
nice home of our own and moved in.”
"That was good luck, old man, now,
wasn’t it?”
• “Well, it wasn’t so good as it sounds;
it didn’t last long. We hadn’t been in
the house six months before it took
fire one night and was burned to the
ground.”
“Wasn’t that hard luck! Too bad,
too bad!”
"Well, I don’t know; it wasn’t so bad,
either.”
“How so?”
“My wife was burned up with the
house.”
Economical Music.
Pomp was an old South Carolina
darky who loved to talk about times
‘‘befo’ the wah” to any one who would
listen. ,
“Talk ’bout ’coiiomy an’ saving,” he
said on? day, “I reckon de souf’s hav
ing ’nough ob it nowdays, but de norf
is p’intedly ahead ob it in dose days,
ya-as, sah. W’y, dere’s a rich man —
rich as mud —dat’s come down from
de norf an’ build a house here for to
lib in part ob de year; an’ he’s got
two beaut’ful daughters—cold-looking,
ya-as, sah, but beaut’ful. An’ w’at
you s’pose my gran’daughter Sail
dat washes dishes for dose folks tole
me? She say dat it’s a truf fact, dat
she’s seen dose two beaut’ful young
ladies practicing on one planner, at
de same time! Ya-as, sah. Dat’s a
t’lng neber happened in Sous Ca’lina
befo’ de wah!” —Youth’s Companion.
Bacteria in Ice.
Prof. Bujwid found 21,003 dis
ease-producing germs in a melted
hailstone. Prof. Frudden, of New
York, has shown that the natural
ice supplied in most cities con
tains multitudes of disease-producing
microbes, including typhoid fever
bacteria and other equally deadly
germs. Thousands of persons are
made sick by the use of ice water, not
only because of the germs which the
ice contains, but because of the gastric
debility induced by the large quanti
ties of cold water. The gastric juice
destroys germs; but when the stom
ach is deluged with ice water, the
gastric glands cease to secrete hydro
chloric acid, to the presence of which
the gastric juice owes its germicidal
properties.—Good Health.
Operation* for Appendicitis.
The increasing ability of the surgeons
:o cope with appendicitis is shown by
the fact that of 15,000 operations in Great
Britain in 1902, the percenetage of re
coveries was 90. Sir Frederick Trevor
has a record of 1,000 operations without
a death.
Steam-Turbine*.
The first steam turbines were built
in 1890, and the total power afforded
by them at the end of that year was
5,000 horse power. The aggregate
power of these motors used to-day is
over 300,000 horse power.
LARGEST BOTTLE BLOWN.
One In New York City That Hold**
Sixty-Five Cations, Five
Feet High.
Tho largest blown glass bottle in the
United Statees, or in the world, so far as
the makers know, is on exhibition in a
window in Barclay street, just above
Greenwich. It holds 65 gallons and is
shaped something like a baby’s nursing
bottle —narrow at the bottom, bulging
at the middle, with a small neck and
mouth. The bottle is a trifle less than
five feet high, and is about four feet in
circumference at its widest part, reports
the New York Times.
The man who blew it at the factory
in New Jersey is just about as tall as the
bottle. If he could manage to squeeze
through its neck, he could sleep very
comfortably inside of it. ,If the surface
area of the glass blown into the bot
tle were spun silk, it would make a
gown for a moderately large sized wom
an. Although blowing by guesswork,
tempered with long experience, the man
exceeded by only half an ounce his in
structions as to the size of the bottle —
65 gallons.
The firm read in a western newspa
per of a “hitherto unaccomplished feat,”
as alleged, of a blown bottle holding 40
gallons. The Barclay street makers
sent one of that size to the Philadelphia
Centennial, more than 25 years ago.
Just to show that it was still in the ring,
this 65-gallon bottle was made. The
manager says that he could blow a hun
dred-gallon bottle if he had a place to
put it in his window.
Pinned to a card at the base of the
big bottle is the smallest bottle in the
world, its appropriate runnning mate. It
holds just four drops, and must be filled
with a hypodermic syringe. It is so
small that It has to be fastened against
a jet-black background in order that
persons looking in at the window car
see it. More time was required to make
the four-drop bottle than the 65-gallon
one.
The substitution of machinery for
human labor in glass bottle factories is
not making much headway. For the
finer grades of work machinery is no
good at all. Skilled mechanics are at
work improving it all the time, and
they promise to succeed some day, just
as they did with the typesetting ma
chines. Meanwhile the efficient glass
blower has the call. There is a great
deal of boy labor in the factories, which
are scattered throughout New York,
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Illinois,
Ohio and Indiana Each blower re
quires from two to three boys to carry
bottles from the molder to the anneal
ing oven. In some factories the blow
ers are required to furnish their own
boys.
People Eat Lea* Bread.
“Well, how’s business?’ asked a re
porter of a wholesale flour agent. “You
would be surprised,” he replied, “to
know that in this time of general pros
perity we are selling less flour than in
hard times. From 1893 to 1895 I sold
more flour than ever before or since.
Business is thriving In many lines, but
the country is too prosperous for the
flour men and the bakers. Why is it?
Simply because the people have money
enough to buy other things than bread.
When the country is hard up people get
along on bread as the staple of the ta
ble. Now they use the fancy cereals,
breakfast foods, can use more meat and
vegetables and generally expand their
diet, which, of course, lessens the de
mand for bread.” —Washington Star.
Village Life.
The average villager is better off than
the average dweller in a town. His
health is better, he is more content, he
is noc afraid to work, he is a righteous,
God-fearing man, he is not mixed up in
scandals, he rears a big family, he has
a better.time on ten dollars than the
cityman has on twenty; but he ought, for
his own sake, to understand his advan
tages, to spare the woods and the wa
ters and the birds, to better his roads,
to let the sun shine in at hit windows,
and not to take criticism so sorely to
heart. —Brooklyn Eagle.
Changei of the Eye.
The eye of a young child is as trans
parent as water; that of the youth a
little less so; in the man of 30 the eye
begins to be slightly opaque, and in the
man of 70 or 80 it is dull and lusterless.
This great development of opacity is
due to the increase of fibrous tissue and
deposit of waste matter in the eye.
Yselesa.
There are some people whose use in
the wrarld it would be as hard to define as
the use of the pieces of parsley draped
around meat on the table. —Atchison
Globe.
THE FARM CARRIAGE.
Theie Is 5# Hraion Why It Should
• Not Be Comfortable the
Year Around.
A little device illustrated by the Rural
New Yorker will add much to the com
fort of riding in a canop/topped car
riage. where annoyance is frequently
felt from the sun shining in at one side
or other or at the back, it may be.
A piece of cloth, preferably of the same
SHUTTING OUT THE SUN.
color as the upholstering of the carriage,
is pulled over two bands of elastic.
Hooks are .“wed at the ends of these
bands, as shov..\ the hooks being cover
ed with cloth. This little curtain can
then be stretched and hooked to the up
rights on either side of the carriage or
across the back, putting it at the right
height to protect the face from the sun.
It will also serve excellently as a wind
break. If the hooks are covered with
rubber they will be less inclined to slip.
CARE OF DIRT ROADS.
It Should Not Be Relaxed In the Agi
tation for More Substantial
Highways.
In driving over a number of our dirt
roads last fall I noticed that, almost
without exception, they were in a. deplor
able condition to leave for winter. It Is
true that we had a hard summer for
roads, but that only makes it the more
imperative to look after them and get
the water running off properly before the
ground freezes. The side ditches should
be cleaned out and the sluice openings
cleared of silt and fallen grass. In places
the water had broken across the road
owing to an obstructed ditch, and there
were flat stretches where drainage was
so bad that water was almost on a level
with the wheel track. When roads go
into the winter in this way look out for
trouble in the spring, and lots of it. These
roads had been “worked” and shaped up
properly in the spring or early summer.
The appropriations had been expended
and the roads were then allowed to shift
for themselves. I know of one road
master who makes it a practice to go
over his road with a shovel immediately
after every heavy rain. A few shovelfuls
removed here and a few added there save
many dollars of expense later on, and
keep the road in remarkably good shape.
One never sees any loose stones in the
road bed in that district, either. But, as
a rule, farmers who are usually the road
masters, are too busy with their affairs
at home to think about the roads at such
times.
In the agitation for macadamized
roads, it is to be feared that the dirt
roads may be neglected—be looked upon
as evils to be endured until the stone
ones may take their place. This should
not be, for however the problem of taxa
tion of the farmer for stone roads may
be solved, It is still true that macadam
ized roads for all our rural sections are
about as far off as the millennium. Coun
try roads in the spring are, as a rule,
something Intolerable: but the remedy
Is not in stone roads, but in an improve
ment of the dirt roads and a better sys
tem of maintaining them. With grad
ing off of hills and firing in of low places,
with under-drainage and with constant
supervision by competent road builders,
dirt roads would be different from what
they are. At the same time, this kind of
work would be preparatory to the stone
surface which would ultimately be
added. The laws in relation to the main
tenance of our common roads need over
hauling, and the administration of them
be placed in more scientific and com
petent hands than it is at present.—Grant
Davis, in Rural New Yorker.
Note* on Separating Milk.
J. W. Newman, fn a talk to a Canadian
dairyman, said: “Milk fresh and warm
as It comes from the cow is in the best
condition for separation. Otherwise
aerate and cool to 60 degrees. When
ready to separate he*>t the milk again
above 90 degrees by some continuous
heater that will hold sufficient milk to
keep the separator going at least five
minutes. But'er fat is not a good con
ductor of heat, not equal to skimmed
milk; therefore, sufficient time for ex
pansion of the fat should be allowed be
fore milk is fed into separator. Heating
milk reduces its viscosity, increases the
capacity and insures more exhaustive
separation. Avoid vibration, low speed,
overfeeding separator, low temperature
or making very heavy cream by adjust
ment.”
When Horne* Get Nervon*.
Many a time when bridges have looked
"scary” or trolley cars caught me, the
laprobe has been a sure protection
against trouble, and many a horse, whose
driver takes his life in his hands driving
into a city with its —to the horse —many
objects of fright would drive like the best
with a light blindfold. It may not be
considered by some as a mark of horse
manship to blind a horse to control its
fear, but it lessens the danger of accident
greatly, and horse and driver are on
quite as friendly terms when the dan
ger is over, as though a strenuous time
had been risked with doubtful results.—
John Gould, in Ohio Farmer.
Selection of Seed Corn.
It is very important to depend upon
home seed corn for the main part of the
crop and not upon imported seed. Se
lect ears of corn for seed which have
kernels of as nearly uniform size and
shape as possible, otherwise it will be
impossible to secure an even stand with
any planter. The shape of the ear
should be cylindrical from butt to Up;
this means even, regular, deep kernels,
resulting in a large per cent, of corn to
cob. The tapering ear is undesirable.
The rows of kernels should run parallel
with the cob, straight and regular.—
Rural World.
TREES AND ROADSIDES.
Appropriate Foliage la Frnlt Trees
Add to the Beauty and Value
of Rural Property.
Col. William F. Fox, state superin
tendent of forests, New York, in his re
cent pamphlet, “Tree Planting on
Streets and Highways,” discusses the
relationships of trees and roads, espe
cially in reference to the dryness of the
latter. He says:
“Trees should be set out along every
road for shade. In addition, the farm
lanes can be lined advantageously with
fruit or nut bearing trees that will bring
money to their owner and add to the
attractive appearance of his surround
ings. Objections may be made in some
localities to placing trees along a pub
lic road, because their shade would tend
to make it wet and muddy. If such con
ditions exist the fault is in the road, and
not in the trees; there are some very
muddy highways along which nothing
has been planted Although a row of
trees may retard somewhat the evapo
ration of moisture at the surface of the
roadbed, at the same time they drain its
foundation by the rapid absorption of
water through their roots. When a
roadbed is properly constructed, drained
and ditched, the trees will do no harm;
on the contrary, they will furnish a
grateful shade to the traveler, and i/re
vent dust without creating mud.
“There are roads along which no trees
are allowed, because some resident ar
gues that the sun is needed to dry up the
mud and sloughs which in spring make
traveling slow and difficult. But in
summer the sun-baked mud is pulver
ized under the wagon wheels, creating
clouds of dust that are worse than mud.
With a well built highway, shaded by
trees, both of these nuisances would be
avoided. Even a poor road will permit
of one row of trees, which should be
placed on the south or west side, as Its
direction may require, to temper the
heat of the afternoon sun. One of the
finest, smoothest roads in the state may
be found in the Adirondack forest—
from St. Hubert’s inn to tho Ausable
lakes—and yet it is well shaded by trees
that meet overhead, shutting out the
sun except where the road is flecked
with light that streams through the
small openings in the leafy cover. But
the road was constructed in proper
shape and of suitable material.
“Trees purify and cool the air, in
crease the value of surrounding prop
erty, and are pleasing to the eye. They
should be placed along the highways
on our village and city streets, on lawns
and in parks, and wherever shade or
shelter may be needed. Planted in com
memoration of persons or events, they
become living monuments that endure
when the inscriptions on the yellow,
moss-corered marbles of the church
yard are no longer legible.
“We are entering on an era of good
roads, But the good work of the road
builders will not be complete until trees
are planted at proper distances on each
side of the highway. In his annual re
port for 1901, the state engineer of New
York states that the actual cost of 134
miles of stone macadam roads was
$7,955 per mile. It takes 196 trees to
plant each side of a highway for ona
mile. Having put $7,000 or SB,OOO on
the roadbed, there surely should be no
objection to paying $l5O or S2OO more in
order to have a cool, shady driveway.
Why not amend the law so as to Include
tree planting?”
A HAY FORK CARRIER.
Device for Returning: n Horne Hajr
Fork from the Haymow to the
Loaded Wagon.
It consists of e wire rope (C) stretched
from the end oi the track (A) to a wood
en cylinder (B), 4 inches in diameter and
18 inches long,around which a few turns
are given. Two short stakes (DD) are
cut from a 4x4 inch scantling and driven
i)f
HAY FORK CARRIER.
slantingly into the ground to hold the
roller in position. A grooved pulley (E)
runs freely on the wire, and from its
i axis is suspended a 50-pound weight (F)
1 as shown in the cut given here; the rope
(G) runs over the pulley (H), which is
firmly attached to the lower side of the
track. The wire rope is made of two
number nine common fence wire
twisted together. When in use the
upper end of the rrpe that runs through
pulley H is attached to the hay fork
rope which carries the fork. It is thus
carried up with the loaded fork and
brings it back by gravitation when
empty. Try it and see how much labor
it saves you.—Norman Atkins, in Epit
omist.
Save Time and Worry.
Did you ever go into a factory and no
tice how expert the workers are with
their hands, how almost automatically
the motions are made? Did you ever
notice, too, how everything stood in just
the right place and always in the same
place? How much fester the people could
work than you could? Your hands, also
can learn to work without waiting for
brain and eyes to tel! them where to find
things, if your tools and clothes are al
ways in the same place, the right place,
of course,. You work at your best when
you do not have to waste thought on
routine work.—Agncultural EpitomisL
Spain Bronght V* Horae*.
The Spaniards were the first to
bring horses to this continent, though
the paleontologists tell U 3 that the
rocks abound with fossils which show
that equidae were numerous all over
America in the eocene period. It ia
a singular fact, however, that there
were no horses in America when the
first Europeans came hither. —John
Gilmer Speed, in Century.
To Show That He I* Not Extinct.
This year has seen the trotting, pac
ing and running records all broken.
The Chicago Daily News remarks that
it looks as though the horse were mak
ing a desperate effort to distract atten
tion from the automobJlo.
FEARED A SEPARATION.
Vhm Dear? Little Lamb Wu Afraid
Her Father Mlicht Be Pat
with the Goat*.
Her father had read her the parable of the
sheep and the goats at the day of judgment.
She made no comment, but that night a
.sound of weeping came from her room. Her
mother went as consoler, relates Brooklyn
Life.
“Why are you erring, dear?”
“About the goat? 1 Oh, I'm so afraid I’m
a goat!”
“Why, no, derrie, you are a sweet little
lamb, antd if you should die to-night you
would go straight to Heaven.” With this
and like assurances she v as finally pacified.
The next night the same performance was
repeated, and again her mother inquired the
reason,
“It’s the goats! I’m afraid about the
gotts!”
“Didn’t I tell you, dear, that you were a
little lamb?”
“Oh,” she sobbed, “I’m not crying about
myself, but I’m ’fraid you muj he a goat!”
A Boy’* Victory.
Crossroads,Tenn., Sept. 14. Orbra Young,
the ten-year-old son of Lester Young, of thi*
place, is a bright boy, and one who is very
well liked by all who know him.
For some years Orbra has suffered a great
deal with a form of Kidney Trouble which
was very annoying, and which made him mis
erable all the time. He had to get up three
or four times every night, almost all his
life.
llis father heard of a remedy called Dodd’s
Kidney Pills, and bought some for the lit
tle fellow with the result that he is now com
pletely cured of the old trouble. He says:
s Kidney Pills soon gave me great
relief, ami now I can sleep all night without
having to get up. We will always praise
Dodd’s Kidney Pills.”
There are many children suffering from
Kidney and Urinary troubles These dis
orders should be promptly corrected. Dodd's
Kidnev Pills is a safe and sure remedy for
all su.a derangements.
Master Orbra Young conquered his trou
bles and made a well boy of himself by using
Dodd’s Kidney Pills, and any one may do
the same by the same means.
Parents should see to it that their children
are given a fair chance in life, and there is
nothing that can undermine the health of
a growing child as much as Kidney and Uri
nary derangements.
An Ice Crcuni Idyl.
Gentle reader, didst thou ever order one
plate of ice cream with two spoons? Honest,
now, i ithedearolddayswhenyou were young
and there was only one girl in all the world,
and she had a round face like the full moon
and as full of freckles as the skin ot a brook
trout? Did you, now? Come, own up! Lt
was down in the little ice cream shop, the
only one in the village, and you were dread
fully angry when the lady who waited on
you smiled, as you thought. You would
have been glad to get along w ith one spoon
and take turns in. licking, but you were too
bashful for that. Still, you used to share
licks when you thought the smiling lady
was not looking, and love went with them,
and the ice cream was twice as sweet and
flavorsome. What! You never did? You
really never did? Well, then, son. you have
n n ver known what Heaven on earth is. Your
education has been neglected. N. \ . News.
SI.OO Biff KOO-l*onn«1 Steel ltunffc Offer.
If you can use the best big 500-pound steel
range made in the world, and are willing to
have it placed in your own home on three
months’ free trial, just cut this notice out
and send to Sears, Roebuck & Co., Chicago,
and you will receive free by return mail a
big picture of the steel range and many
other cooking and heating stoves, you will
also receive the most wonderful SI.OO steel
range offer, an offer that places the best
steel range or heating stove in the home of
any family, an offer that no family in the
land, no matter what their circumstancesmay
be, or how small their income, need be with
out the best cooking or heating stove made.
That’* All.
“To run a newspaper,” says an Oklahoma
editor, “all a fellow has to do is to be able
to write poems, discuss the tariff andimoney
question, umpire a baseball game, report jv
wedding, saw wood, describe a fire so that
the readers w'ill shed their wraps, make a
dollar do the work of ten, shine at a dance,
measure calico, abuse the liquor habit, test
whisky, subscribe to charity, go without
meals, attack free silver, defend bimetallism,
sneer at snobbery, wear diamonds, invent
advertisements, overlook scandal, appraise
babies, delight pumpkin raisers, minister to
the afflicted, heal the disgruntled, fight to
a finish, set type, mold opinions, sweep the
office, speak at prayer meetings, stand in
with everybody and everything. N. Y. lrt
bune.
Sounded That Way.
We know that Richard Wagner was poet,
philosopher and musician. A man of such
varied genius must also have had humor.
Jugend records one witticism of the great
composer. .
“Your son conducts with his baton in tua
left hand,” said a friend to Wagner.
“Yes,” he sadly answered, “I can hear it.
—Youth’s Companion.
Itadlseou on the Chippewa.
A new town in Sawyer county, Wis., on
the Omaha Road. Located on both the
Chippewa and Coudoray rivers, in center
of a most fertilo and promising hardwood
district. Good tnuseallonge, bass and pike
fishing in both rivers. Exceptional oppor
tunities for landseekors. If looking for a
new location don’t fail to see this new
country. For map and full particu’ars
write to Postmaster, Radisson. Sawyer Co.,
Wis., or to T. W. Teasdale, General Pnssen
ger Agent, C. St. P. M. & O. R’v. St. Paul.
Very Mean of Her.
Edna—Mr. Case just complimented me.
He said I reminded him of a swan
May—Really. He told me once that swan*
always died after they sang and he knew
many people whooughttodo the same thing.
—Chelsea Gazette.
Mrs. Patty—“Doyou really think Dr. Duck
maii is a skilled, physician?” Mrs. Giblin
(the patient)—“l don’t know so much about
that. But lie has such a quieting way with
him. When I said I hoped I shouldn’t be
buried alive, he said he'd look out for that.
Wasn't that thoughtful of him.”—Boston
Transcript.
“He’s comparatively rich, isn’t he?” “I
should say rather that he is relatively so.
He has a rich uncle upon whom he bases
his hopes.”—Philadelphia Press.
I am sure Piso’s Cure for Consumption
saved my life three years ago.—Mrs. 'J hos.
Robbins, Norwich. N. Y., Feb. 17,1900.
Before accepting the inevitable we should
be certain of its identity.—Puck.
To Care a Cold in One Day
Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. All
druggists refund money if it fails to cure. 25c
They who turn their backs on the fait©
face the true. —Ram’s Horn.
Dyeing is as easy as washing when Put
nam Fadeless Dyes are used.
The raw recruit is apt to be roasted by
;he drill sergeant.—Puck.
While there is love there’* hope.—Ram’*
Horn.
SAWYER’S
EXCELSIOR BRAND
Pommel
ifiMSlickers
AYTrr yoa <sry ln vrstte*
EncUwßnU
. Oiled Clethle* have been
/ l S'! /VjOHf famous as the belt for #o
/{/I, years. Insist on the grn lino.
f //If) / / k [ Look for trade XjfiYtA
/V, /. ' ) Y mark. If not at
fll/. /i f dealers write
/// / //*X H. *. ■AWYBB
PISO’S CURE FOR
25 CTS.
Best Cough Syrup. Tastes Good. Use
CONSUMPTION
2 5 CTS.