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THE BOSSIER BANNER.
•Sheriff's Oines Established July I, 1859. FO KT Y-SEV EN TH YEAR. "A Map of Busy Life; Its Fluctuations and its Vast Conceri}s." RENTON, BOSSIER PARISH, LA., THURSDAY, MARCH 20, 1908. Subscription, per Year. NUMBER 5. Carter-Alien Jewelry Co. .'122 Texas Street Shreveport's Finest Jewelry Store WE could dredge the dictionary for adjectives and not tell half what our cases contain. \VE ENGRAVE wedding invitations and announcements, church, at home, visiting and business cards in the latest styles on very short notice. WE MANUFACTURE special designs in jewelry, diamond mountings, medals, class pins and repair all kinds of jewelry. WE TEST EYES, using the latest and most scientific instruments. Our optician is a graduate of one of the finest colleges of opthalmology in existence. \Ve Repair Watches amt Clocks stud Tk6in Keep Tinre TVli«« Others Fail. \ DENTISTRY. DENTISTRY. Teeth Extracted Positively Without Pain. : All other Dental Work performed in an equally satisfactory manner. : Crown and Bridge Work a specialty. j When in Shreveport would be pleased to have you call and let me exam- J inc your teeth. Î PHILADELPHIA DENTAL ROOMS \ Dr. V. IRVIN MILLER, Proprietor \ * Over Regent Shoe Store, SHREVEPORT, LA. Both 'Phones, 1190. J. F. SILLIMAN Blacksmith Wood Worker Wheelwright Horse-Shoeing a Specialty 5 Near Cotton Belt Depot BENTON, LOUISIANA f 300000000000000 Your Account Solicited Interest paid on savings deposits, and all sums accepted. None too large—none too small. Reliable and prompt service ; best facilities. Banfröf-ßeiiton ....Benton, La. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO R. P. Morton The Harness Man of Shreveport ~T Carries a full line of Wagon and | Buggy Umbrellas, from $1 to $7. 1 Let him show you the Stratton : Combination Carriage — an extra ♦ seat always ready for the family, t Have him repair your Saddles and ; Harness while you wait. | . ................j DRY GOODS COMPANY WHOLES ALL DEALEK8 IN DRY" GOODS CLOTHING BOOTS and SHOES 210,212, 214 and 216 Levee Street, SHREVEPORT, LA. r................................................ il Wiien your liotiu* printer cannot tin the work, we reeninineiitl The G. G. Williams Printing Co., Ltd., Printers, Binders and Blank Bonk Manit laetnrers, Sli re report. j L________________________________i Important! 1 You should have your residence fitted up with practical plumbing fixture.-. Daniel O'Connell, of 707 Texas Street, Shreveport, the lead ing plumber of that city, will upon application give you prices on Bath Tubs Lavatories Water Closets and Kitchen Sinks. Book Bindery Art Treasures, Pamphlets, Mag azine -, Music, Law Books, Records, Blank Books and Catalogues bound. T. J. Leaton 1138 Jewell Street, SHREVEPORT New 'Phone, 595. ADVE R T I S I NG in these col s' -.ns is sure to bring desired î?" nits. Rates on application m H ERE is or.e of the most popular Oxfords we are showing this sea son; made in patent vici, dull leathers, tan and white and colored canvas^ Price, $2 to $3.50. R EGENT SHOE STORE 320 Texas Street, SHREVEPORT ........... ll ♦ î ♦ . ; j - j j : Koda kerist * EVERYTHING FOR THE KODAK Pictures Developed and Printed 241 4tn Ave., N. Nashville Tennessee ..J Printing J All classes of commercial print ; neatly and promptly executed. ♦ We now have in our office a Lino 5 type Machine and a Cylinder Press ; for book work and no firm in North ♦ Louisiana is better prepared to ♦ print lawyer's briefs, booklets, etc. : To sec our work is to ; admire it j CASTLE PRINTING CO. j SHREVEPORT, LA. At the Bon Ton Restau rant In Shreveport is the place for visitors to get a good square meal at popular prices. Regular ir.eals are served r.t appropriate hours, and the best attention is given short orders. A 88.25 meal ticket, good for twenty-five meals, can be bought for 85. Nicelv furnished roon-.s in connection to let by the day. or for longer time. FRANK SERWICH, Proprietor. NOTED ROM EXPERT D. Ward King's Connection With ■ ■ r- n .. , : Move For Better Hignways. BEGAN CAMPAIGNING IN 1902 Split Log Drag Work Started In 1896. Rise of the Device to Fame Marked by Several Opportune Accidents. How Railroads Took It Up. [Copyright, 1908, by D. Ward King.] In closing this series of articles 1 am requested to write a brief history of my connection with the movement for - better roads. The "road problem" be gan to engage my attention very soon after I came to Missouri, which was In 1879. The split log drag work, which start ed in 1890, received a certain amount of notice from the public in 1898 or 1899, but nothing was done by me pub licly until December, 1901, when 1 addressed the state meeting of the Missouri Good Roads association at Chillicotlie. My campaigning commenced in April or May, 1902, under the direction of our state board of agriculture, and I have worked with it more or less ever since. In the fall of 1902; when the board opened its regular scries of in stitutes, I addressed them, and in the next few years I visited Indiana, Ohio, Michigan and Nebraska, traveling for months in the employ of the various states. In spite of the fact that I live within thirtv miles of Iowa and Kansas, I D. WARD KING. was for*years balked in my efforts to start the road drag movement there because of the lack of a central insti tute authority in those states, a weak ness which has since lieen remedied. Now, Wallace's Farmer of Des Moines, la., had given considerable space to the King drag, so 1 wrote to its editor, asking advice. My letter to him was brought to the notice of Gen eral Manager Aishton of the Chicago and Northwestern, leading to the spe cial train campaign over the North western's Iowa lines in the spriug of 1905. The Burlington carried on a similar campaign the same fall, and in the following winter we had the pleasure of seeing a road drag law passed by the Iowa legislature. The rise of the road drag to fame has been marked by a number of op portune accidents, each of which has had an influence on the outcome. In fact, as I stated in a previous article, the inception otf-the King drag system was itself largely accidental. And the success of my letter to Mr. Wallace was another instauce, being due to the accidental comiug together of Messrs. Wallace and Aishton in a Des Moines bank, they never having met before. At the bank the conversation drifted to corn, and Mr. Aishton went to Mr. Wallace's office to see some fine sam ples. By chance my letter lay open on the desk as they passed, and Mr. Wal lace remarked, "There, Mr. Aishton, is a matter in which you and all railroad men ought to take an active interest." Mr. Aishton gave heed and began an investigation which ended in my en gagement to make the tour of his road in April. Another such occurrence which con nects later on with the one just re lated had its beginning when the brother of our rural free delivery car rier visited him in 1902. This brother accompanied our carrier over the rural mail route aud saw what the King drag was doing. He returned to bis farm home near Sac City, la., built a drag aud made a road which be came the talk of the vicinity. The township authorities decided to experi ment with the new method, built drags, hired men and teams, made a close record of expenses aud noted re sults. It happens that Sac City is a Chicago and Northwestern town, and w hen Mr. Aishton visited there to investigate he was shown the roads and the records. The showing satisfied him. and he at once wired me to visit his office at the first opportunity. Is it uot clear that the writing of this telegraphic message began on the day that the visitor from Sac City Journeyed over our rural route? Not long after this railroad work In Iowa the Alton in Illinois and Missouri and the Santa Fe in Kansas adopted the same general plan of campaign, ind all three of these states have since fallen into line by enacting road drag laws. Tfiese campaigns by the railroads and the publication by the Saturday Even ing Post of au article bearing ou the to to **en beard from. shown a letter s - of tlie subject gave the movement great pub licity. and the news lias traveled around the world. Papers in Canada. Australia and England bave been big the use of the drag. Paris has .lusl now 1 was tating the Missouri Road Drag Bulletin has been trans lated into Spanish. 1 have reason to believe the King drag is in use In every state of the Union, and I have the names of more than fifty Cana dians who are dragging the roads. Moreover, the people are showing an appreciation of the drag and a desire tc know more about it by demanding my presence at Chautauquas and good road meetings so constantly that l have lit tie time for other business. M.\ Chau tauqua dates for 1003 are in request already, indicating the growing interest public. Last but not least, the--1.' ni ted States office of public roads at Washington has recognized the importance of the split log drag, and Director I'age has asked me to write a biiiletiu for the government. This bulletin will go more^ into detail than anything I have heretofore written and . will contain new pictures as well as a cut of an im plement to be used supplementary to the drag. This implement, although in use on my road for years, I have uot before introduced to public notice. HOW TO MAKE GOOD ROADS. Suggestions by State Engineer Cooley of Minnesota. State Engineer George W. Cooley of Minnesota, who recently discussed macadam roads with the members of the road and bridge committee of the comity board, also discussed the speci fications for Ramsey county road work and gave the members of the commit tee many valuable suggestions. Mr. Cooley spoke of the growing popularity of macadam roads in t lie eastern states, where the best roads that mon ey can procure are demanded. Ills opinion was that a good earth road is the liest that can lie had, but they are hard to keep in repair, whereas macadam roads may he built to last. Scientific methods should he adopted, and specifications must he carried out to the letter. Ig, building a macadam road the foundation is the main thing. The voids in the crushed limestone founda tion should bo tightly filled with gravel instead of clay, which is sometimes used. A very little clay may lie used, but for filling purposes gravel is much more satisfactory. There should lie no shoulder on the sid:\*of the road, but the macadam should be gradually feathered off to the edge and made water tight. The material used for a filler should be applied before the road is rolled. On top of a foundation of four inches of crushed limestone an inch and a half of pit gravel Wash j the gravel in with a street sprinkler I and then roll. The next layer should i consist of three Inches of smaller hard j stone treated in the same way and then a layer of pit gravel feathered off to the edge. Mr. Cooley said all the materials should he specified and nothing left t'> the choice of the contractor. Even the grave! pit should be designated. The j contract should he so worded that in the event that the gravel pit designat ed failed to pan out well all the way : through the contractor can be required to go elsewhere for this supply upon making an equitable adjustment with him. Such an arrangement would bo far more economical than to permit tile contractor to go on with unsatisfactory materials. In this way the board eon Id control the sources of supply and noth ing would be left to the whim of the contractor. Mr. Cooley also went into the ques tion of maintenance of roads, which he considered quite as important as con struction. The contractor, he said, should he required to keep a man on the road for two weeks after its com pletion to look out for defects. Faithful Rural Mail Carrier. With the unique record of not having missed a day from his route, except the holidays granted by the govern ment, Howard M. Weaver of Waynes boro, Pa., rural mail carrier No. 3. lias completed his third year in the service. Weaver was among the original force of carriers, who began their duties Feb. 1, 1903, and is the only one who remains. During the quarter ending Dec. 30 last Sir. Weaver handled 17. 313 pieces of mail, or three times as many as In his first quarter. Mr. Weaver enjoys his daily ride through the March'district and has made many firm friends there. There is rarely a party or a dinner in that section that he does not attend, and there is fre quently waiting for him on cold days a cup of hot coffee. Modern Tiled Roads. It somewhat appears that our whole | country is soon to he made available j through roads constructed by what ! some one has dubbed the petrolythic J process, says the Los Angeles Times. ; In riding over a country road a ehanf feur was heard to remark, "1 have ! driven over all kinds of roads, but that Sausage machine roller beats down the best surface I ever traveled over." Judging by the mileage now under con struction by this process, it would ap pear that the general public heartily Indorses the opinion of the driver quot ed. __ ■ _____ Plan to improve Sandy Roads. In some of the counties in Oklahoma where the roads are sandy the plan has been adopted of improving them by cutting the prairie hay. which has a rank growth along the roadside, and placing it on the roads The plan is said to work very well, and the roads are very satisfactory to the farmers in hauling their cotton, corn and other products to the markets. S I • 9 posin By E. M. MURRAY. [Copyright, 1907. by C. N. Lurie.] ®®®®®®®®®®®®®®®® ®®®®®®®®®®®®®®®® I j I i j T had always been Cynthy's word, and Lem felt no disposition to quarrel with it under the circum stances. He let his mind run back to the long ago days when he carried her books to school and plan ned small treats within the scope of their narrow lives which his awkward tongue and self conscious mind almost prevented his laying before her. Cyu thy was not given to many words her self, and so when he finally managed to suggest "S'pose we go berrying Sat urday?" or skating, as the season might allow, Cyntliy had always con tented herself with replying "S'posin'." He saw himself again as he was In those days, big for his years, hands ami face tanned almost a leather color with sun and wind, a shock of unruly brown hair and eyes of almost the same shade. He did himself but scant justice as far as appearance went. It did uot occur to him that he had been a goodly sight to look upon even at that time, for he had l>een then as now the seeming embodiment of rugged health. Looking at Cyutky, he saw traces of the same air of fragility that had characterized lier as a child and seemed to set her apart from the other children. He had long known that it was not an indication of weak health, but was due rather to a certain trans parency of skin which neither sun um wind seemed to affect. He felt just as big and overgrown beside lier today as he had done years ago, and Cyuthy's assent to his latest suggestion had tilt ed him with the same sense of wonder and delight as in ilit old time. He would have liked to know if Cyu tky was thinking of those old days in the same way as he was. He recalled that in that faraway time he used to speculate whether that simple word of assent "S'posiu'" caused Cyutky any of the pleasurable sensations it gave him to hear it. He had never dared to ask such a question, and iie wonder ed if he ever would. There was a de- i lightful possibility that he niigiii. and his heart beat higher at the thought. If he had stopped to consider that fact, he would have known it was quite un necessary, as that organ had not been doing normal work for a week past and before this last increase had been going to an alarming rate. Indeed, were there no prospect of a decrease even the sturdy frame of Lem Minturr could not long have withstood its on slaught. But uo thought of danger from that cause rose in the young! man's mind. There were more dan gérons things for him to consider than In X 'V/A 74 k-f | j ! J ; ! "S'POSE WE GO BERRYING, the state of his heart. In fact, if ques tioued, he might have replied that he knew it too well to need to give it fur ther consideration. He was more alarmed about the condition of another heart which ho wanted for his own. Thought was ever swifter than speech with Lem Minturn, and now ns he stood beside Cyntby, looking down at her while she looked off toward the horizon, it traveled over all the little bypaths of memory the very approach es to which he had apparently forgot ten uutil that day a week ago when he had seen Cynthy for the first time in six years. Ever since then his thoughts had been busy with olden days. II<* could recall all the chief events in the one he I to to So to I early life of both from the time when she was a tiny mite in pinafores and he was a sturdy lad rejoicing in his first real pockets. There was 110 break nutil she was fifteen years old and her family had moved away to the city, where there were more advantages for the children. He had been seventeen then and had completed his first year in the mill. There she stood, looking so much like the old days that he could almost have believed they had never been separated except for the recurring thought that be knew not what associations or ties she might have formed since last he i ! j saw her. It might be that the terrible longing in his heart was never to be satisfied, and then the necessity for speech became almost intolerable. It was because of this that he had spoken In the old fashion, "Cynthy, s'pose we tell what has happened since last we met?" And Cynthy had not resented the re turn to old speech or the use of her name, but had answered simply, "S'posin'," and Lem was not disposed to quarrel about the answer. But it was one thing to decide to speak and quite another to find the words one wanted. While he was still seeking them Cynthy said, "S'pose I begin?" Gratefully Lem accepted their re versed positions and answered in his turn, 'S'posin'." Cynthy found a comfortable spot and sat down, while Lem threw himself at her feet. Then she began in a simple, unaffected way to tell the story, which the man eagerly drank in. So much j depended upon that story. It would ; either open his lips or seal them for- j ever, and he knew it. He composed ; himself to listen, determined that nei- ] ther by word nor look should he cm- j barrass her or make it difficult for her to give him this glimpse of her life. He could not help wondering if it meant as much to her as to him. "There isn't a great deal to my story, Lem," said Cynthy. "I did not know how fond of the old place I was until we had moved away. They say that those who are left behind feel worse than those who go because new things take up the attention. I dare say that is true in a way at least, but there is a kind of longing for old places and old friends that is worse than physical pain when it strikes and that only the absentee can feel. True, it is not always there. One could not stand it if it were." Cynthy spoke In a reminiscent tone, more to herself than to him, and Lem felt a sort of comfort in the knowledge that ho was not the only sufferer. 'I went to school and gave my whole attention to my hooks, as I had de termined to lit myself for a teacher. Somehow 1 think it always lay hack in my mind that I should return here some day. I will not deny that the de sire became less a conscious purpose than a subconscious dream as the years went by, but about six months ago it flamed into a purpose that would brook no opposition." Here Cynthy paused and fell to thinking. Lorn noted the fast chang ing color now, and his heart sank a little. He wondered what had roused Cynthy to the sudden determination and whether It boded good or ill for him and his hopes. Every moment seemed to make it more a matter of life and death that lie should know his j fate. j With heightened color and eyes that looked steadfastly at the far horizon. Cynthy resumed lier story, apparently unconscious of the anxious scrutiny of her companion. "About a year ago a young student came to board with us. As you know, I never had a brother, aud before long we became excellent friends. It was very nice to have some one to depend upon, ever ready to do wnat one needed, to piny escort and big brother.' That was what we both called it at first But it seemed to grow to lie more, and—and—why, then, he asked me to marry him. It was a surprise to 1110 at first, but after awhile I thought I would say yes. Then it oc curred to me that before tying myself to a promise that I might not he able to keep I should see more of life. 1 was not sure I could lie a minister's wife, aud besides I did uot know whether I loved him or not. I needed absence to prove my feeling to myself. So that is why I am here. I applied for and finally got the position of teacher, and here I am, out with yon just as in the old days, and it hardly seems as if it could he six years since then. Does it, Lem?" Something in the question made the young man's heart leap and the hot blood rush to his head. He looked sharply at Cynthy, but she appeared to lie merely wondering aloud, and hope died down again. But it was time for bis story now, and, moreover, he felt as if he could tell it, indeed must tell it. let the outcome be what it might. "It seems to me, Cynthy," he said, "that perhaps without my knowing it you have always been a big factor in my life. I had taken your friendship as such a matter of course that if I thought of it at all it was as something that could not be changed. Therefore your going off to the city that way was a blow that stunned me. I could not get used to it. I did uot once think of asking you to write to me. In fact. I could think of nothing but that you were going. The place seemed mighty lonesome after you were gone, and I gave myself up to my work In the mill as if that, too, would never change. But It bothered me that you were going to have opportunities in the city that would put you away out of my class. That thought was discouraging until one day I said to myself, 'Cynthy, s'pose we both study?' And it seemed to me that I could hear von say. 'S'posin'.' That settled it. I began, and after a year or two, during which I had been steadily advancing in the mill, I asked this question: 'Cynthy, g ' I)0 se I go away and take a technical course aud fit myself for assistant su perintendent?' And again you seemed answer, 'S'posin'.' "I talked the matter over with the superintendent, who had always been a goo ,i friend, and lie heartily approv e j_ Well, a few months later I went fln q p U t j n SO me hard studying for the next few years. During vacations 1 worked in the mill and got thoroughly acquainted with its needs. I have not known many girls, because I have been too busy, and—well, that seems to be all there is to it. Here I am in the position I worked for, and I ar rived just the same day you did." "That is a coincidence, is it not?" said Cynthy as Lem paused. "We are both lucky, I think, to have found things going our way. Now that you have proved your dream true are you content?" "I thought I was, Cynthy, until the night I got back; then suddeuly it came to me that there was something lack ing." "Isn't that always so with dreams that come true, Lem? It seems to me that the only happy dreams are those that stay dreams," said the girl, with a slight sigh. Lem made no direct reply to this bit of philosophy. He was in the mood of having his dreams come true and risk ing the contentment. The suspense grew unbearable. He must know. Anything was better than uncertainty. "Cynthy," he said softly, and the girl started from her reverie aud turned to ward him. Her face looked pale and weary, as if life had lost some of its charm. It made him pause a moment, but he gulped hard and spoke again. "Cynthy, there is a reason for the failure of contentment for me. It is • it & 1 c X in * n ? "s'posin'." reason so old that I had not recognized it and at the same lime so new that It brings more pain Ilian joy. Cynthy, you are the reason." He paused again and saw tbo blood surge up into the girl's face. Her breath came in quick gasps, but she turned toward him with a look that was partly inquiry, partly surprise and some doubt, hut there was no repug nance. That encouraged him to take up his narrative where he had so ab ruptly stopped. "I love you, Cynthy, but 1 did not know it until a week ago. I thought I was too busy to care for girls; but, Cynthy, it was because you had all my heart, and I did not know it. It was really for you that I studied and won my way to success. I was too wholly a boy when you went away to under stand what gave me such pain to part with you. But even then I must have loved you." He paused for a moment as if to steady himself for what must follow. Cynthy said nothing, but she drew nearer to him as if unconsciously drawn, and lier face was lighted with a smile that even Lem saw was the outward expression of inward joy. lie drew her into his arms, and she did not resist. For a moment he held her so, while lie waited for his heart to steady. Then with a twinkle in his honest brown eye he turned her face up to his and before kissing her said. "Cynthy, s'pose we get married?" And Cynthy answered, "S'posin'." He Won't Always Be One. "I have a clerk," a New York whole sale merchant remarked the other day, "and he sometimes manages to hand back a rather good one, though ns a rule he Is little short of stupid, appar ently. As a matter of fact, I suppose he Is one of those dreamy sort of chaps, and you never can tell about that kind. "I was sorry after I said it," he con tinued, "but recently he had made a most unnecessary blunder, and I lost my temper. " T say, Jones,' I sneered, 'you'd make a pretty good clerk, maylie, if you had a little more sense!' "He looked at me for a minute with a sort of half smile. 'Didn't it ever occur to you. Sir. Brown,' he said, 'that if I had a little more sense I wouldn't be a clerk at all?'"—Chicago Record-IIerald. A Royal Golfer. King James II. was a fine golfer in the sense of fondness for the game and in other senses too. He it was, as Duke of York, who, when challenged by two English noblemen at the Scot tish court to a match, the duke to take any partner whom he could find, took to his side an Edinburgh shoemaker named John I'atersone. The duke and Pntersoue won, and the latter, being given half the stake, built for himself a house, which is to 1« distinguished by the record upon it in Canougate to this day—Fry's Magazine.