Newspaper Page Text
Reason for Apprehension.
Clementine —I am afraid I shall have to refuse to marry Theodore. Aunt Hannah—For mercy's sake, what has he been doing? Clementine —Oh, he hasn’t been doing anything. It is what he has said. He told me last evening he wouldn't give me up for a million of dollars. A man who think* so little of money as that I’m afraid will always be poor.—Bos ton Transcript. All She Took. Gowantis —I had £2 in my pocket last night, bat this morning there is only a penny or two. Did you need some money for a spring shirt waist and take it, Ara bella? Mrs. Gowantis (astonished) —Yes, but I only took SI.9S! Wabasha Hears Good News. Wabasha, Minn., Aug. 19.—George Huber of this town suffered from Kid ney Trouble and Backache. He was very bad. Dodd’s Kidney Fills, anew remedy, has cured him completely. He is now quite well and able to work. He says Dodd’s Kidney Fills are worth their weight iii gold. News comes to haul almost every day of wonderful cures by Dodd's Kid ney Pills, which, although but recently Introduced iu this country, lias already made many warm friends by its splen did results in the most serious cases of Bright’s Disease, Diabetes, Dropsy, Rheumatism and Backache. From Bad to Worse. Brown—Do those dogs up your way still continue to howl all night? Joncse—No; the dogs have given up in disgust sirxe our twins arrived on the ■eene. Low Rates to Marquette. Marquette. Mich., that delightful all around health resort and the genuine paradise for hay fever sufferers, is now brought within easy reach of the thou sands in ami about Chicago who are thus afflicted. A rate of $7 from Chi cago to Marquette and return is an nounced by the Duluth, South Shore & Atlantic Road, via the C. & X W. and the C., M. A; St. F. The sale of tickets at this remarkably low rate is confined to the dates of August 23 and August 80. Tickets sold nn August 23 are good for return until September 3. and those Bold on tlie 30th are valid until Sep tendier 9. Do you tike Mrs. Austin’s new dress? I am sure Fiso’s Cure for Consumption saved my life three years ago.—Mr*. Thos. Robbins, Maple street, Norwich, X. Y„ Feb. 17, 1900. Do right iu such a way people won’t think it unusual. riTt rcnnuwnilTCwa*. >naawuiiißs 111 0 first limy '* us* of I>r Kims’* llreat Kerrs Km stores for FK Kl •• <M> tru., bott.r ud trrstlssL DJL L H IUNk Ltd.. Sal ArcJo at.. Fl.llddnlphld. fW Do you like Mrs. Austin's new dress? Do you like Mrs. Austin's new dress? More Than a! Ousrtir of a Century The reputation of W. L. Douglas $3.00 and *3.50 shoe# for style, comfort and wear has excelled all other makes sold at these price#. This excellent reputation has beer, won by merit alone. \V. L. Douglas shoes have to give better satisfaction than other 53.00 and $3.50 shoes because his reputation for the best $3.00 and $3.50 •hoes must be maintained. The standard Las a* .’ays been placed so high that the wearer receives more, value for his money in the W. L. Douglas $3.00 and $3.50 shoes than he can get elsewhere. W.L. Douglas sells more $3.00 and 53.50 ■hoes than any other two manufacturers. IV, I. Douglas 94.00 Gilt Edge Line cannot be equalled at ary price. ■ • i‘fs ff s* *V.." U W. L. boualam \a.OOand 53.80 •floea a.*c made o> the ammo high grade loathora uaod In SB and Sll ahoea and are /uat mm good. Sold by the best shoe dealers everywhere. Insist upon having W. L. Douglas shor-s with name and price stamped on bottom. Hon to Order by Mail.—lt W. L. DoCgldS shore are not eold In your town, rend order direct to factory. lion s-nt anywhere on reoetpt of price and • t.- ' a 1 i ts. additional (or <• irriane. My 1 A custom department wIU make you a pair that will equal *i anil tfi cus \ tom made shoes, tn style, fit and • 5 io \ wear. Take measurements of ■ B e O. foot as shown on model. state ■ U f stican.lwidtli I jw. N usually worn; plain or a r> , wN. cap toe: heavy, n.?d- K V J 'p. 4"■ X turn or light soles. Ssst r*>*r fnWl stl Cats!** frss. W. 1.. Douglas, Braektua, Xloata The University of Notre Darr.e, NOTRE DAME. INDIANA. FULL COl RSes In Classics. Letters. Ev - sea Its and History. Journalism. Art. Sdt.ua Pksrmaci. Law. Civil. Melba nival and E ?c --trival F.ng neering. Architecture. Rooms Free to ail student* who have oc-n --pleteii the studies required for admission into the Juut 'r or Senior Year, of auv of the Coils,i atr Courses Roi'tr.s to Rent: moderate ohsrge to students ever seventeen prepir.u; lor Collegia it Course-. A limitad number of Candidates for the Ecci * siastioa state will be received at s,e<tai rates M. Edward's Hall, for boys under IS years ! - unique in the completeness of iu equipments The jSth Yer >r.!ioi*o September totb. ioji Catalogues f-ree Address REV. A MORRISSEY. C. S. C. President. [SEAFARING MEN Know THE VALUt OF 'tin j i OILED CLOTHING j • IT WILL / 7 KEEP YOU DRY ■t! -I A rH " ,N ™ e H \ [ WETTEST WEATHEB L bbrXJL • ** LV* t *7AJt w ON iALS tV£nDt>9e ✓'*"%>'" CATALOGUED C REE SHOWING fULL CNt Of UASTN'TC AND.“ATS. A J TOWER CO. BOSTON MASS. n SCALE AUCTION BIDS 3Y MAIL. TOUR OWN PRICE. Maes, Bs Pays Us Freight, Blagkaalaa, > I. IS Best Cough 6; rep. Tastes tioud. Cs* n The t)oetor’s fjiletnma By Hesba Stretton CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued.) “You are looking rather low,” she said triumphantly—“rather blue, I might say. Is there anything the matter with you.' Your face is as long as a fiddle. Perhaps it is the sea that makes you melancholy. “Not at all,” I answered, trying to speak brisk'.y; “I am an old sailor. Per haps you will feel melancholy by-and by.” Luckily for me, my prophecy was ful filled shortly after, for the day was rough enough to produce uncomfortable sensa tions in those who were not old sailors like myself. My tormentor was pros trate to the last moment. When we anchored at the entrance of j the Cretix. and the small boats came out j to carry us ashore, I managed easily to j secure a place in the first, and to lose j sight of her in the bustle of lauding. As , soon as my feet touched the shore I start- J ed off at my swiftest pace for the Havre Gosselin. But I had not far to go. for at \ audin s Inn, which stands at the top of the steep lane running from the Creux Harbor, I saw Tardif at the door. He came to me instantly, and we sat down on a low stone wall on the roadside, but well out of hearing of any ears but each other s.” “Tardif,” I said, “has maro’zelle told you her secret?” "Yes, yes,” he answered; “poor little soul! and she is a hundredfold dearer to j me now than before. But main zede is not here. She is gone!” “Gone!” I ejaculated. I could not ut- j ter another word; but I stared at him ; as if my eyes could tear further informa tion from him. “Yes,” he said; “that lady came last j week with Miss Dobree, your cousin, j Then mam'zelle told me all, and we took counsel together. It was not safe for j her to stay any longer, though I would j ha t died for her gladly. But what could j ie .lone? We knew she must go else where, and the next morning I rowed < her over to Peter-port in time for the j steamer to England. Poor little thing! poor little hunted soul!” “Tardif,” 1 said, “did she leave no t message for me?” “She wrote a letter for you,” he said, “the very last thing. She did not go to bed that night, neither did I. I was go ing to lose her, doctor, and she had been like the light of the sun to me. But what could I do? She was terrified ! to death at the thought of her husband j claiming her. 1 promised to give the letter into your own hands Here it is; I It had been lying in his breast pocket, j and the edges were worn already. He j gave it to me lingeringly, as if loth to j part with it. The tourists were coming i up in greater numbers, and I made a retreat hastily towards a quiet and re- j mote part of the cliffs seldom visited iu j Little Sark. There, with the sea, which had carried ! her away from me, playing buoyantly amongst the rocks, I read her farewell ; letter. It ran thus: “My Dear friend —I am glad 1 can ' call you my friend, though nothing can ever come of our friendship—nothing, for j we may not see one another as other J friends do. I am compelled to flee away | again from this quiet, peaceful home, j where you and Tardif have been so good j to me. I began to feel perfectly safe j here, and all at once the refuge fails j me. It breaks my heart, but I must go, j and my only gladness is that it will be j good for you. By and by you will forget j me, ami return to your cousin Julia, and I lie happy just as you once thought you should be —as you would have been but for me. You must think of me as one dead. lam quite dead —lost to you. “Good-by, my dear friend; good-by, good-by! OLI\ I A.” The last line was written in a shaken, irregular hand, and her name was half blotted out, as if a tear had fallen upon | it. 1 remained there alone on the wild j and solitary cliffs until it was time to | return to the steamer. Tardif was waiting for me at the en- i trance of the little tunnel through which the road passes down to the harbor. He ! I did not speak at first, but he drew out ! I of his pocket au old leather pouch filled ! | with yellow papers. Amongst them lay a long curling tress of shining hair. He i touched it gently as if it had feeling aud consciousness. “You would like to have it, doctor?” he I said. “A.v,” I answered, an.l that only. I j could not venture unon another word. CHAPTER XVII. Three months passed slowly away af i ter my mother’s death. Dr. Dobree, who ; | was utterly inconsolable the first few j I weeks, fell iuto all his old maundering. ! philandering ways again, spending hours | upon his toilet, and paying devoted at- j .eutii ns to every passable woman who j I caui' across his path. My temper grew j like touchwood; the least spark would set it a blaze. 1 could not take such things j in good part. , We had been at daggers drawn for a ‘ day or two. he and I. when one morning 1 j was astonished by the appearance of i Julia in our consulting room, soon after; my father, having dressed himself elabo- • rately. had quitted the Igouse. Julia’s face was ominous. the upper lip very! | straight, and a frown upou her brow. “Martin.” she began in a low key, "I j j am come to tell you something that fills ! me with shame and anger. Ido not know 1 how to contain myself. I could never j have believed that I could have been so blind and foolish. But it seems as if I | were doomed to tie deceived and disap ! pointed on every hand—l who would not I deceive or disappoint anybody in thed l work I declare it makes me quite 111 to think of it. Just look at my hands, i how they tremble.” "Your nervous system is out of order," I remarked. "It is the world that is out of order,” ! she said petulantly; "I am well enough.; Oh. I do not know however I am to tell j you. There are some things it is a shame to speak of.” "Must you speak of them?” I asked. "Yes: you must know, you will have to ! know all sooner or later. If my poor, i dear aunt knew of it sfie could not rest j in her grave. Martin, eaunot you guess? : Are men Imra so dull that they cannot see what is going on under their own eyes?” “1 have not the least idea of what you are driving at,” 1 answered. “Sit Jo n ! and calm yourself.” "How long is it since my poor, dear aunt died?” "You know as well as I do.” I replied, j wondering that she should touch the I j wound so roughly. "Three months next Sunday.” . | "And Dr. Dobree.” she said in a bitter } accent —then stopped, locking me full in I the face. 1 had never heard her call my ; j father Dr. Dobree in my iife. "What now?" I asked. "What has my unlucky father been doing now?” "Why." she exclaimed, stamping her foot, while the blood mantled to her fore-, . head. "Dr. Dobree is in haste to take a , second wife! He is indeed, my poor Mar j tin. He wishes to be married itnmedi- I ately to that viper, Kate Daltrey." "Imp sslblel” 1 cried, stung to the ! quick by these words. I remembered my j mother s mild, instinctive dislike to Kate Daitrey. and her harmless hope that I on Id nit go over to her side. Go over to her side! Nos If she set her foot into , this house as my mother’s successor. 1 ; would never dwell under the same r of. j As soon as my father made her his wife 1 wonid cut myself adrift from them both- : But he knew that; he would never ven ture to outrage my mother’s memory or my feelings in such a flagrant manner. “It is possible, for it is true,” said Ju lia. “They have understood each other for these four weeks. You may call it an engagement, for it is one; and I never suspected them, not .for a momeit! Couldn’t you take out a commission of lunacy against him? He must be mad to think of such a thing.” “How did you find it out?” I inquired. “Oh, I was so ashamed!” she said. “Y’ou see I had not the faintest shadow of a suspicion. I had left them in the drawing room to go upstairs, and I thought of something I wanted, and went back suddenly, and there they were—his arm around her waist, and her head on his shoulder—he with his gray hairs, too! She says she is the same age as me, but she is fofty if she is a day. The simple tons! I did not know what to say, or how to look. I could not get out of the room again as if I had not seen, for I cried, ’Oh!’ at the first sight of them. Then I stood staring at them; but I think they felt as uncomfortable as 1 did.” “Julia,” I said, “I shall leave Guern sey before this marriage can come off. 1 would rather break stones on the high way than stay to see that woman in my mother’s place. My mother disliked her from the first.” “I know it,” she replied, with tears in her eyes, “and I thought it was nothing but prejudice. It was my fault, bringing her to Guernsey. But I could not bear the idea of her coming as mistress here. I said so distinctly. ‘Dr. Dobree,’ I said, ‘you must let me remind you that the house is mine, though you have paid me no rent for years. If you ever take Kate Daltrey into it, I will put my affairs into a notary’s hands. I will, upon my word, aud Julia Dobree never broke her word yet.’ That brought him to his sense* better than anything. He turned very pale, and sat down beside Kate, hardly knowing what to say. Then she began. She said if I was cruel, she would be cruel, too. Whatever grieved you, Mar tin, would grieve me, and she would let her brother, Richard Foster, know where Olivia was.” “Does she know where she is?” I asked eagerly, in a tumult of surprise and hope. “Why, in Sark, of course,” she replied. “What! Did you never know that Olivia left Sark before my mother’* death?” I said, with a chill of disap pointment. “Did I never tell you she was gone, nobody knows where?” “You have never spoken of her in my hearing, except once—you recollect when, Martin? We have supposed she was still living in Tardif’s house. Then there is nothing to prevent me from carrying out my threat. Kate Daltrey shall never enter this house as mistress.” “Would you have given it up for Olivia’s sake?” I asked, marveling at her generosity. “I should have done it for your sake,” she answered frankly. “But,” I said, reverting to our original topic, “if my father has set his mind upon marrying Kate Daltrey, he will brave anything.” “He is a dotard,” replied Julia. “He positively makes me dread growing old. Who knows what follies one may be guil ty of in old age! I never felt afraid of it before. Kate says she has two hun dred a year of her own, and they will go and live on that in Jersey, if Guernsey becomes unpleasant to them. Martin, she is an iper—she is indeed. And I have made such a friend of her! N’ofv. I shall have no one but you and the Careys. Why wasn't I satisfied with Johanna as my friend?” She stayed an hour longer, turning over this unwelcome subject till we had thor oughly discussed every point of it. In the evening, after dinner, I spoke to my lather briefly but decisively upon the same topic. After a very short and very sharp conversation, there remained no alternative for me but to make up m.v mind to try my fortune once more out of Guernsey. I wrote by the next mail to Jack Senior, telling him my purpose. I did not wait for my father to commit the irreparable folly of his second mar riage. Guernsey had become hateful to me. Iu spite of my exceeding love for my native island, more beautiful in the eyes of its people than any other spot on earth, I could no longer be happy or at peace there. Julia couhl not conceal her regret, but I left her in the charge of Captain Carey and Johanna. She prom ised to be my faithful correspondent, and I engaged to write to her regularly. There existed between us the half-betrothal to which we hail pledged ourselves at my dying mother's urgent request. She would wait for the time when Olivia was no longer the first in my heart: then she would be willing to become my wife. But if ever that day came she would require me to give up my position in England, and settle down for life in Guernsey. Fairly, then. I was launched upon the career of a physician iu the great city, as a partner with Jack and his father. The completeness' of the change suited me. Nothing here, in scenery, atmos phere or society, could remind me of the fretted past. The troubled waters sub sided into a dull calm, as far as emotional life went. To be sure, the idea crossed me often that Olivia might be in Lon don —even iu the same street with me. 1 never caught sight of a faded green dress but my steps were hurried, and I followed till I was sure that the wearer was not Olivia. But I was aware that the chances of our meeting were so small that I could not count upon them. Even if I found her, what then? She was a* far away from me as * ough the Atlantic rolled between us. If I only knew that she was safe, and as happy as her sad destiny could let her be, 1 would be eon tenL Thus I was thrown entirely upon my profession for interest and occupation. I gave myself up to it wth an energy that amazed Jack, and somei roes surprised myself. Dr. Senior, who as an old vet eran loved it with ardor for its own sake, was delighted with my enthusiasm. He prophesied great things for me. So passed my first winter in London. CHAPTER XVIII. Early in the spring I received a.letter from Julia, desiring me to look out for apartments, somewhere in my neighbor hood. for herself and Johanna and Cap tain Carey. They were coming to Lon don to spend two or three months of the season. I had not had any task so agree able since 1 left Guernsey. Jack was hospitably anxious for them to come to our own house bur 1 knew they would not listen to such a proposal. 1 found some suitable rooms for them, however, where I could be with them at any time in five minutes. On the appointed day I met them at Waterloo station, and in stalled them in their m-w apartments. It struek me that Julia was looking better and happier than I had seen her kxk for a long time. Her black dress suited her, and gave her a style which she never had in colors. Her complex ion looked dark, bat not sallow; and her brown hair was eer.ainly more becom ingly arrange.!. Her appearance was that of a well-bred, cultivated, almost elegant woman, of whom no man need be ashamed. Johanna was simply her self. without the least perceptible change. But Captain Carey aca;n looked ten sears y anger, and was evident’y taking pains with his appearance. ! was more than satisfied. I was proud of all tsj friends. “We want yoa to com* and have a long talk with us to-morr v,” said Jo hanna; “it is too late to-night. We shah tie busy shopping in the morning, but can you come in the evening?” “Oh, yes,” I answered; ”1 am at leis ure most evenings, and I count upon spending them with you. I can escort you to as many places of amusement as you wish to visit.” "To-morrow, then,” she said, “we shall take tea at eight o’clock. I bade them good-night with a lighter heart than I’had felt for a long while. I held Julia’s hand the longest, looking into her face earnestly, till it flushed glowed a little under my scrutiny. “True heart!” I said to myself, “true and constant! and 1 have nothing, and shall have nothing, to offer it but the ashes of a dead love. Would to heaven.” I thought as I paced along Brook street, “I had never been fated to see Olivia!” I was punctual to my time the next day. I sat among them quiet and si lent, but revelling in this partial return of olden times. When Julia poured out my tea, and passed it to me with her white hand, I felt inclined to kiss her jeweled fingers. If Captain Carey had not been present I think 1 should have done so. We lingered over the pleasant meal. At the close Captain Carey announced that he was about to leave us alone to gether for an hour or two. I went donn to the door with him, for he had made me a mysterious signal to follow him. In the hall he whispered a few incomprehen sible sentences into m.v ear. “Don’t think anything of me, my boy. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. I’m an old fellow compared to you, though I'm not fifty yet; everybody in Guernsey knows that. So put me out of the ques tion, Martin. ‘There’s many a slip the cup and the lip.’ That I know quite well, my dear fellow.” He was gone before I could ask for an explanation. I returned to the drawing room, pondering over his words. Johan na and Julia were sitting side by sMe on the sofa, in the darkest corner of the room. “Come here, Martin,” said Johanna: “we wish to consult you on subject of great importance to us all.” • I drew up a chair opposite to them and sat down, much as if it was about to be a medical consultation. “It is nearly eight months since your poor dear mother died,” remarked Jo hanna. Eight months! Yes; and no one knew what those eight months had been to ma —how desolate! how empty! “You recollect,” continued Johanna, “how her heart was set on your marriage with Julia, and the promise you both made to her on her deathbed?” “Yes,” I answered, bending forward and pressing Julia’s hand, ”1 remember every word.” There was a minute’s silence after this; and I waited in some wonder as to what this prelude was leading to. “Martin,” asked Johanna, in r. solemn tone, “are you forgetting Olivia?” “No,” 1 said, dropping Julia's hand ns the image of Olivia flashed across me reproachfully, “not at all. What would you have me say? She is as dear to me at this moment as she ever was.” “I thought you would say so,” she re plied; “I did not think yours was a love that would quickly pass away, if it ever does. There are men who can love with the constancy of a woman. Do you know anything of htr?” “Nothing,” I said despondently; “1 have no clue as to where she may be now.” “Nor has Tardif,’ she continued; “mj brother and I went across to Sark last week to ask him.” “That was very good of you,” I inter rupted. “It was partly for our own sakes,” she said, blushing faintly. “Martin, Tar dif says that if you have once loved Olivia, it is once for all. You would never conquer it. Do you think that this is true? Be candid with us.” “Yes,” I answered, “it is true. I could never love again as I love Olivia.” “Then, my dear Martin,” said Johan na, very softly, “do you wish to keep Julia to her promise?” I started violently. What! did Julia wish to be released from that semi-en gagement, and be free? Was it possible that any one else coveted my place in her affections, and in the new house which we had fitted up for ourselves? I felt like the dog in the manger. It seem ed an unheard-of encroachment for any person to come between my cousin Julia and me. “Do yon ask me to set you free from your promise, Julia?” I asked, somewhat sternly. (To be continued.) CAT NOW IN FAVOR. Crippled, but She Helped to Find a Fortune. “I recently filed a claim for the widow of a Mexican war veteran,” said H. G. McCormic, of Cincinnati, “that has a rather funny story attached to it that I think will bear repeating, as it was brought about by a one-eyed, bolitailed cat of no pedigree aud of absolutely no worth, that is now petted as a price less treasure by Mrs. Maggie Tuttle, an aged widow, residing at Harrison, about ten utiles from Cincinnati. A small boy with a sling destroyed one of the cat’s eyes, and a few days after ward, in an attempt to knock a train from the track, the cast lost half its tail; but the cat came back, and there by bangs the tale, not the cult’s tail, by the way. “When I filed the papers for the pen sion of Mrs. Tuttle, whose husband was a sergeaut in the Twelfth United States Infantry, it was found that all was in good shape, except his discharge papers, and I at once requested that a search be made for these documents. She was certain that her husband had left them somewhere iu the old home stead. aud a diligent search was at once instituted. The old house was ransack ed from cellar to garret with no re sult. and when the effort was about to be given up in despair it was noticed that the old eat took a great deal of interest in the old garret It went to a I box in one corner of the room and I jumped iuto it. Upon looking into the I Ik>x it was found that four kittens were nestled in some old paper. When an effort was made to look into the box the old cat grew ferocious aud attacked j the searchers, tine of the party, who did not like the cat anyway, picked up a book and threw it at it. This book missed the eat, but struck au old paste board box on a shelf aud knocked it to the floor, where it bnrst open and the contents rolled out on the floor. Upon picking them up the discharge papers and $3,000 in government bonds were | found. The old cat now wears a blue ribbon aud has the run of the house— j in fact, nothing is too good for it.”— Washington Star. Literary Landmarks Doomed. The doom of another Latch of liter ary landmarks has lately been sealed. First the old Black Bull Tavern in Hol bom, where Mrs. Gamp nursed Mr. Lewsome in partnership with Betsy Prig—“Nussed together, turn and turn about, one off. one on.” Then the Red : Lion, at Henley-on-Thames, in which Sheustone was said to have written fa : miliar lines which Dr. Johnson quoted to maintain his thesis that "there is nothing which has yet been contrived | by man by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.” Lately, too. Burford-bridge Hotel, near ; Box-hill, where Keats finished “Endy mion” toward the end of ISI7. has been ! in the market—whether for demolition or not. we cannot say.—Literature. Marketing Garden Products. Many fruit and vegetable growers in the South aud North make a mistake In watching the market reports and shipping goods when the quoted prices are high aud holding them back when they are low. Asa result, when the goods reach the market they find that too many others have done the same thing, and when the goods are received conditions have changed, and the mar ket is again glutted, and prices are down. This system may do well for the gardener who is so near to the mar ket that lie can have prices telephoned out to him at night and have his prod uce on hand before daylight, or get them at the opening of the morning market and deliver his produce at eight o’clock. But the man whose products must be two or three days on the road would often do better to ship his goods when prices were low with the chance of a rise before his consignments come to hand. One truck farmer near Nor folk, Va., who is said to have retired with nearly a million dollars made in the business, used to have one good commission agent in each of the sev eral cities, to whom he shipped goods, notifying them by wire of amount and date of shipments, and they were then prepared to receive orders for them or to sell them for cash on arrival, and if he divided his shipments by any system it was to keep each one well supplied with good produce, and accept the average price. The dealers, knowing they had all of his goods in the city, could obtain the highest price of the day for them.—Massachusetts Plough man. Soil Renovator*. The opinion seems to he general among farmers that the only crops which can be used to improve the soil are the legumes which gather carbon nitrogen from the air and retain it, so that when plowed under the nitrogen Is given to the soil. Another use these legumes have is that they supply humus to the soil, which often is much needed. There is another class, of which rape Is a member, which when plowed under has the power to absorb the phosphoric acid which lies inert when other plants are grown, and when such crops are plowed under they return this phosphoric acid to tha soil for the use of the next plant placed thereon, for once being made active it does not again become inert. Cow-horu turnips are of this class, and recent ex periments have proved their wonderful value as soil renovators. The long roots force themselves deep Into the subsoil, forcing that soil to give up its plant food. Any crop which will bring into play any of the plant foods that lie Inert when other crops are grown will do a vast deal to add to the fertil ity of the soil. All farms will not grow crimson clover, but with cow peas, vel vet bean and Canada fitdd peas at hand one may readily obtain a legume that can be grown and thus get nitrogen cheaply, then if rape aud other mem bers of the turnip family will wake up the phosphoric acid in the soil and make it available, the question of soil fertility comes pretty near being solved. Pasture Lands. When I catne out West, more than a quarter of a century ago, writes a cor respondent of the Prairie Farmer, it did not take many years to find out that it was more profitable to pasture the grass around me than to burn it in the fall. This pasturing of the grass was done so successfully that none was left to burn or to pasture. Finally I was compelled to break up the land and farm it. I raised large crops of small grain, but soon saw that it was a money-losing game and tried to seed my land back to grass. I found it very difficult to get tame pastures to stick, and if by accident I got a good stand of timothy or clover the latter would not last last and the former after a good crop or two would get what I called sod bound and would not produce a load of hay to the acre. I know now why the timothy did no good after a year or two. It was because we pastured it to the roots, thinking it economical to let the stock eat the last spear of grass that showed up iu the fall. Land hav ing by that time advanced in price, I could not afford to own pastures of that kind, and so I overstocked it to make both ends meet. I made lip my mind to own less and better stock, and this change in no time made a great im provement in my pastures. I soon saw that a growth of grass covered the pas turnes in dry weather when all the range in short pastures was burned. General Debility in Chicks. One of the main causes of general de bility among young chicks is over crowd.ng them in the coops by either having the coops too small or giving the old hen more chicks than she can properly cover or by permitting her to take them to a nest of some kind to cover. The coops for chicks should be roomy and clean, with perhaps some iitter on the boards or ground, but the nest box tilled with hay or straw has no place in the coop. Another cause of debility is permitting the old hen a free range with her chicks when they are very young; there are always a few chicks in a clutch that, while perfect ly well, are not very strong and are un able to keep up with the pace set by the old hen. For at least two weeks the old hen should be kept confined and not permitted to run with the chicks unless the space given them is very small. If any of the little chicks show decidedly that they are weaklings it will be best to kill them at ©nee. The Value of Rainfall. It is said that the rainfall brings town about four pounds of ammonia, Jr three and a third pounds of nitrogen per acre, which may be correct as a general statement, or an average amount, but where there are heaps of decomposing vegetable or animal mat ter from which ammonia is escaping in considerable amount tLe air contains more ammonia, and the rain or snow will absorb more of it. Unfortunately for careless farmers it does not drop back to the place from which it rises, but may be carried by the wind for miles before retnrniug to earth, and the farmer who makes a compost heap and does not keep it o covered with earth or other absorbent as to prevent the j escape of ammonia may be adding to the fertility of me garden of somebody Id the next county whom he never saw. instead of putting it upon his own soil, that needs it more. Like old-fashioned stories this has a moral. When caring ffif Mffure or composts dt aot allow nitrogen to escape, and beep your sur face soil light and dry, that it may ab sorb more from the atmosphere, as dry earth is a good absorbent.—Exchange. Growing Field Corn. Many a farmer has been saying that' there was no profit in growing corn im New England, when Western corn could be bought at the market price of several years past, but when they find that a dry season in the West has in creased the price ten cents a bushel, i and may add ten more before the sea j son is over, they rather envy the man I who has a field that will till the old ■ corn crib and give a good stack of corn i stover to save the hay next winter. He, at least, can afford to contribute something to the Kansas sufferers who have found the corn crop a failure this year. But we hope the man who has corn to buy will not be too hasty in deciding to use less of it because of the advance in price. If it is a loss to buy corn instead of growing it, it may be | a greater loss to reduce the amount fed j to fattening stock, milch cows, swine or ! poultry. If satisfied that it paifi to feed jit at he old price, keep on :fs before and hope for a better price for the products.—New England Homestead. Rations for Dairy Cow. Prof. T. L. Haecker, of the Minnesota experiment station, after nine years’ experience, gives the following as to the best ration for dairy cows: Ensi lage is the foundation feed used and the grain feed consists of five parts bran, five parts cornmeal and two parts of new process gluten meal, which con tains 37 per cent protein, and the ra tions are from five pounds to nine pounds of this mixture, according to the amount of milk given. It generally takes three pounds of ensilage and half pound corn fodder for every pound of grain feed. If a cow's flow of milk drops off for some cause or other, he increases it by feeding roots besides the grain for a time and then holds it by grain alone. Incidentally he men tioned a cow which failed to breed for four years which gave 300 pounds of butter fat the fourth year and seems to intend to keep up that gait. Wide Orchard Rows. There has recently been considerable agitation over the question of whether fruit trees, mainly apples, should be planted in wide or narrow rows. There are many growers who have worked on the wide row plan, that is, the wide row running east and west of the or chard, and found it most desirable. There are several reasons why this method of planting is desirable, but the main one is that planted in this way the trees have more sunlight when they reach large size, and sunlight means an increased crop and a better one. Asa rule apple trees are set much farther apart than other fruit trees because of their large size at maturity, yet there is no doubt that the wide-row plan is as desirable with apple as with other trees. On the wide-row plan pear trees, for example, are set sixteen by twenty eight feet, the wide rows running east and west. Washing Kggs. There has been considerable com plaint in tlie large markets, both East and West, about some method used by shippers in removJ ag the soil from eggs. They are not washed with water, but with some substance that whitens them, but which also closes the pores of the shell and causes the fgg to spoil quickly. Poultrymen should avoid using anything of this nature. If the eggs are so badly soib.nl tha tthey need washing, they should Ite kept at home and not sent to a city market. Any ordinary soil may be’readily removed by gently rubbing the spot with a soft cloth. In this way the bloom on the shell is not removed as it is by wash ing. Wfiehine Milk. After milking each cow weigh the milk, keep a record of it, and in a month one will be surprised to see how great the difference in the weight of the milk from the several cows. In many cases it will he found that the. supposed prize milker of the herd is one of the poorest cows in the lot. This test has proved to more than one dairy man that he had two or three cows out of a dozen that Were eating up the profits of the dairy, and that if he were rid of these cows his dairy would pay a profit. Spring scales can be bought for about two dollars and will pay for themselves in a month. The Berkshire Host. Tlie Berkshire is to the swine field as the brave old oak to the forest. lie has withstood the tempests of fads and fashions for over 100 years and is stili the most lasting and enduring, said W. D. McTavish at the lowa State Breed ers’ Association. He has had no booms or soaring prices, but has gone steadily on in the even tenor of his way to that practical improvement that makes him to-day the best all round hog for all cli mates and all purposes on earth. Storing sweet Potatoes. Storing sweet potatoes in cottonseed hulls, cotton seed and sand in the usual way has given best results at the South Carolina station. Storing in straw has given the poorest results. It appears that cottonseed hulls are ad mirably adapted for use in storing sweet potatoes. The same is true for cotton seed, only to a less extent Farm Note*, &>ne is the thing to use on peach trees every time, says one grower. Dig out the peach tree borers aDd Jar the curculio. The cause of foam rising on extract ed honey is said to be unripe honey. Sugar l>eets should not be permitted to dry out after being dug. as there is always a loss of sugar. Minnesota beekeepers in convention seemed to favor sweet and alsike clov ers as good to sow for bee pasture. Where the mower has not worked well in cutting eov.pea vines that are on the ground a bean harvester intend ed for navy beans has been found suc cessful. Kansas wheat 'growers are to have seed of the bard. red. Russian or Tur key wheat direct from the Crimea. It is imported through the State Millers* and Grain Dealers' Associations. "The queen of the money makers” is the latest and prr.nd title bestowed by the poultry press npon the American hen. Cotton, corn and wheat are said to be the only farm supplies that ex ceed her output in value. Hessian fly, the bane of wheat grow er# iu the older states, appears to be going westward. Secretary Coburn, of Kansas, is credited with the advaict to burn the wheat stubble as soon a# the wheat is removed frcro the Acid. MADE STRONG and WELL A Prominent Lady Raised from a Sick Bed by Pe-ru-ra—Entirely Cured in Two Weeks. j MRS. EA. CROZIER. J Mrs. r A Crozier, Senior Vice President '• of the Morgan Post, W. It. C., the largest corps in Minnesota, writes from 1 "The I.aiulour,” 9th and Nicollet, Miuue-! apoils, Minn., as follows: “Please accept hearty thanks on behalf of Peruna. that wonderful med icine which raised me from a sick bed and made a strong and well woman of me In two weeks. I suffered with bearing-down pains, backache and con tinual headache, and found no relief until I tried Peruna. It cured me com pletely, and I feel as young and well as when 18. I wish every women knew the merits of the medicine and no home would be without It.”— Ara. E. A. Crozier. MMNtlfMin USE CUTICURA SOAP, assisted by Cuticura Ointment, the great skin cure, for preserving, purifying, and beauti fying the skin of infants and children, for rashes, itching* and chafings, for cleansing the scalp of crusts, scales, and dan druff, and the stopping of falling hair, for softening, whitening, and soothing red, rough, and sore hands, and for all the purposes of the toilet, bath, and nursery. Millions of Women use Cuticura Soap in the form of baths for annoying irritations, inflammations, and excoriations, for too free or offensive perspiration, in the form of washes for ulcerative weaknesses, and for many sanative, antiseptic purposes which readily suggest themselves to women, especially mothers. No amount of persuasion can induce those who have once used these great skin purifiers and beautifiers to use any others, especially for preserving and purifying the skin, scalp, and hair of infants and children. Cuticura Soap combines delicate emollient properties derived from Cuticura, the great skin cure, with the purest of cleansing ingredients and the most refresh ing of flower odours. No other medicated soap is to be compared with it for preserving, purifying, and beautifying the skin, scalp, hair, and hands. No other foreign or domestic toilet soap, how ever expensive, is to be compared with it for all the purposes of the toilet, bath, and nursery. Thus it combines in ONE SOAP at ONE PRICE, the BEST skin and complexion soap, the BEST toilet and baby soap in the world. Complete External and Internal Treatment for Every Humour. scales .and soften the thickened cuticle: CUTIOCRA Ointment, U f•• * ! \ I instanOv allay Itching, Inflammation, and Irritation, and soothe and M hCB , ar j d CX’XICVBA Resolvent, to coo I and cleanse the blood. _ A Single Set D often sufficient to cure the most torturing, dlsflg THE SET urine, and humiliating skin, scalp, and blood humours, with loss of hair when all else falls. Aold throughout the world. British Depot; F. Nf.whkht A Sons, 27 and JR. Charterhouse Bq., London. I’OTTEB Dbgo asd CHKM. CORF., Sol* Props.. Boston, U. 8. A. Pain’s Fireworks at the Exposition. The Pan-American managers have ar ranged with Mr. Pain to produce an elaborate carnival on the lake in the Exposition Grounds every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evening during August and probably September as well. The carnival will consist of a brilliant fireworks exhibition conclud ing with a bombardment of the forts at Taku and will include a ballet and water pantomime and mid-air acrobatic performances, all brilliantly Illumin ated. This will add another interesting and attractive feature to the great Pau- Ameriean Exposition. For reduced rates and accommoda tions, inquire of any New York Cen tral or West Shore ticked agent. FIREWORKS AT THE PAN. Do yon like Mrs. Austin'* new dress? She Needed No Sympathy. Sympathetic Gentleman—What do you do for a living. Mrs. Saunders? Mrs. Saunders (laconically!—Boarders. —Boston Herald. Do Tour Feet Ache an-1 Barn? Shake into your shoe#, Allen's Foot- Ease, a powder for the feet. It make* tight or New Shoes fee! Easy. Cure# Coma, Bunions, Swollen. Hot and Sweating Feet. At all Druggist# and Shoe Store*, 25c. Sample sent FREE. Address Alien S. C'msted, Lelloy, N. Y. The average pay of a farm laborer in Bavaria i* 4Se a day. Do you like Mrs. Austin's new dress? Mr*. Winslow s w-th iso -T*rr lor Children ssetauw. sort-ns the sums, reanewc isdainitiat.oti. Ssisrs Data carse wind cone. & cert, s bottle De yoo like Mrs. Austin's new dress? SOZODONT forfhefggffj and Breaiii 25* At all stores, or by Mai, 1 for the Price. HALL & RUCKEL, New York. Mrs. Wm. Henderson, Bordulac, N. writes: “1 was troubled with very serious female weakness: had spells of flowing that ex hausted me so that I feared I would lose my mind. I suffered untold agony with at) back, the pain extending down my left leg. My pain was so severe that I would have welcomed death at any moment—so no one need wonder that I recommend Peruna so highly, for It cured me entirely of that. Not a sign of pain has returned, and that will soon be tw ? o years now. "1 am glad that there is a way I can speak, trusting that many a sufferer will read my te- cimonial, and not only read but believe."' —Mrs. Wm. Henderson. FOR WOMEN ONLY. Free Treatment During Hot Weather by Dr. Hartman. By the assistance of an experienced staff of physicians. Dr. Hartman proposes t* direct the treatment of several thousand women, who for one reason or another ara ailing. Each patient sends name, symptoms and a short description of previous treatment, and are entered in the doctor's books se regular patients. The treatment is directed from time ta time as may be found necessary by the doc tor, without charge. Every letter and name Is held strictly confidential, and In no case will any one be published exeept by the ex press wish of the patient herself. These cases are treated with the same and fidelity as the private patients of a reg ular family physician. During the past year ■a large number of cases have been cured. Every item of the treatment la directed, fat which no charge whatever is made. Address Dr. Hartman, President of Th* Hartman Sanitarium, Columbus, Ohio, fat free treatment. 20,000 "ffi T Required to Harvest the Grain Crop of Western Canada! ■ The most abundant yield on the Continent Re ports are that the aver age yield of No. 1 Hard Wheat in Western Can ada will be over thirtv bushels to tbe acre. Tba trices for farm help will tie excellent Tb-re era splendid Ranching Lands adjoin? the whes- belt Excursions will be run from all points in tba United States to the Free Grant Lands. Secure, home at once; and, if you wish to purchase at prevailing prices, and secure the advantage of the low rates, appiy for literature, rates, etc., etc., to F. Ped'.ey, Supt. Immigration, Ottawa, Canada, or to C J. Hroughton, 1223 Monadnock Bldg., Chi cago; V Kart hoi.,mew 3MS &th-st., lies Moines. Iowa; M. V. Mclnnes, No. 2 Merrill Blk.. Detroit Mich., 4. Grieve. SaullSt. Marie. Mich.; T.O. Cur rie. 1 New Insurance Building. Milwaukee. Win.; E. T Holmes, Indianapolis. Ind., AgeuU for tba Government of Canada. When visiting BufTaio. do not fail to see tbeCa r.sdian Evbibit at tb Fan-American. A Skin of P**uty Is a Jay Forever. fsK T. FK.IX (.Olktl ’• OH ire TiL 17 CREAM, UR MAGICAL Bf Al'i If’li H. So Hfrnot## T*. Plmpi**. MS M tto Palo.hot. tusfc and ftkj© • i aifraaea, ***rj blamiat oa i " ? i- /fS beauty, and Ortm s-ijsilgf \ #js|a*t*-f|nn. It lias _ ; ; - uSra J c jr l stood the tass <m la Sr? a aad is a* V-/ harmlesstaste 1. t- 3 #3 rrj to o* H n it i> k-v 2 * 5 aV fe, eriy made. Asset* 5* A W % I no aownterfett or C / .nslisr ia:re Jr. W ISa r I *• *#Vr said to a fat JL \ •*dr Of ta baai ton \ a patient i: “As yoa rjiJ-Efr j \ ,adtoa will nee ibesa. / - V'. V/.— _ ev 1 | \ I rw.miMTid "Ooar // /\\ | awd sCrea-w' as tc / / \-NA V T V | lust tarmfnl of . / I H L e c ssta preyara. \ / . < \YJ'\ tlona.” for sale kv ‘ N ail Drargwu seS fancy-Goods Deaieis la the C. #.. Canada# and Eurocav rZSJj. T. HOPEI# V Frop-r. f. Great Jones #t, S. T. c. Ns L. No. 34-1 'SOI