Milk River Valley news. [volume], April 06, 1904, Image 6

About Milk River Valley news. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1904-1908

Image provided by: Montana Historical Society; Helena, MT

                
jWBI* sa ± ,te |
j* A Story of An American Girl.
% BY MATTIE DYER BRITTS. 0
CHAPTER 111.
After they were fairly on the road,
Marcia took her first real look at Louis
I j9 Dm. And her judgment was, “He
to the handsomest man I ever saw in
*ny life!” Indeed, he was hnn/lsome —
•s Lucifer was said once to have been
the most beautiful of the angels, ns well
ma the wickedest!
She did not venture a second look, for
Mr. Le Dru Instantly turned the thrill
ing, magnetic gaze of his dark eyes upon
tiers with an intensity which made them
drop quickly, and brought the warm
Wood swiftly to her round cheeks.
“Miss Douglas,” said he. “when I set
put to visit your father this morning, i
wad no iden I was to l»e so fovered by
In the last part of that sentence Mr.
I* Dm for once told the truth!
But Marcia could not guess that the
•first part was all a lie, so she asked,
■indly:
“Did you come to Kentucky on pur
pose to see papa, Mr. Le Dru?”
“That was my main object, Miss Doug
las.”
“When did you retch Frankfort?” she
masked.
“Lost night. Miss Douglas.”
“But why did you not come out to the
fHall at once?” pursued -Marcia, inno
•cently.
“Ob, It was-entirely too late to think
of disturbing any one theu.” responded
•Louis, promptly.
, “A guest never disturbs papa, no mat
ter what hour he comes,” said Marcia.
I cannot think of anything wliich
•would afford him greater pleasure*than to
♦entertain at his own fireside your father’s
Em. Vance Will be delighted, too. Did
understand you to say 3 r ou were class
ates?”
“For three years, at old Yale. Miss
iDouglaa. If I remember rightly, he lives
foear you. doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Uncle John died two years since,
land Vance, at my father’s express wish,
ttnakes his home with us, managing his
•own estate, which joins ours, aud assist
ing pa-pa besides. Papa thinks he could
wot get along at all without Vance.”
“Happy fellow!” murmured Le Dm.
*‘l wonder if he knows how much he
4s to be euried in living under the same
•roof with his charming cousin!”
“Mr. Le Dru, 1 greatly dislike flat
tery,** said Marcia, very haughtily.
"I sincerely beg pardon. Miss Do.ug
-Ins.” 6aid he, “I should not have offend
ed, but you see I am n plain, honest sort
of fellow, and so apt to express admira
tion when I see anything very beautiful,
that 1 forgot our acquaintance was only
measured by moments, as yet. When you
.know me better, you will not mistake
jfrank admiration, even though bungling
*ly expressed, for mere empty compli
ment.”
His manner was so simple. Ills low
tones so dangerously thrilling, how could
'Murcia doubt his truth? She gave him
an artless look and smile, and said,
-sweetly:
“I aqj not offended, Mr. Le Dru.”
Before he could have spoken, they had
•reached the great Iron gates, which were
ww\tng open by two little negro boys who
jwere on the watch for them. Bidding
iklm enter with a pretty wave of her soft
{little hand, Marcia looked up into Le
Drn'i face, and said, quaintly:
“Welcome to Dohglas Hall, Mr. Le
•Dm?”
But, ah! little guessed the innocent
child that she waa welcoming to her
toftr&diM the serpent who had come to
iwgttJto beauty!
cantered gently up the wide,
«mbt>th carriageway to the house, where
Squire Douglas aud Miss Madeline were
Anxiously waiting, and the negroes were
at the corner of the verandah,
what had happened.
A vaguelmpulse prompted Marcia to
'wish for her father to help her from her
borsc. But Louis instantly dismounted
i«nd stood at her side, extending his arms
with a fine gallantry which poor Vance,
true gentleman though he was, could
loot have imitated to save his life.
“What haß happened, daughter?** nsk
cd the old Squire, hastening to meet them
•n they came up the steps. “Wo have
been terribly frightened. Where is
Vance?”
“Coming, papa, with a sprained an
fcle.” said Marcia.
“Thank heaven it is no worse than
that!” fervently ejaculated the old gen
tleman. “But you bring uh a guest,
Marcia.”
“Yes, papa, one you will gladly wel
<ome,” said Marcia, smiling, while the
younger man reverently took off his hat
"“He is the son of a dear friend! This is
Ur. Le Dro, from Charleston.”
“VVhat! Simon Le Dru’a son? Do I
really see Simon Le Dru’s son?” cried
the good old gentleman, extending his
hands and wnmnly clasping those of the
young man. "Are you Louis Le Dru,
actually Simon’s boy?”
Himself, slid no other!” said Louis,
heartily.
••Well, wells I’m glad of It! I’m glad
of it! Both hands, sir, both hands! Why,
this is too good to be true! that Simon
Le Dru’a son has really come to visit his
jfather’s old friend, uway out here In
Kentucky 1”
“Yea* sir, he has taken that liberty,”
•aid LouU, giving ns winning a smile to
the silver-haired Squire as he had given
to the brown-haired girl.
"Taken the liberty? Done us the hon
or, you mean! welcome to
Douglas 'Frail! A thousand welcomes!
Here, sister Madeline, come here, come
here! Come and take Simon Le Dru’s
boy by the hand. By both hands, ns 1
bave. Louis, my sister, Miss Madeline
Douglas.”
Louis bent over the plump hand which
Aunt Madeline held out to him, saying,
respectfully, ‘‘l have often heard my
gather speak of Miss Douglas. It is a
great pleasure to me to meet her.”
“None the less so fce us, 1 nin sure,”
•aid Miae Madeline. “1 Join in 'my
brother's welcome to our house."
* “To* out house,” aald ths old Squire
“You may remember to have heard,
Louis, that Providence was pleased years
ago to remove Marcia’s mother from our
midst. Since then my sister has nobly
filled her place in our home.”
“I am suro you have been fortunate in
having so kind a aister.”
“Indeed we have! Indeed we have!”
repeated Squire Douglas, warmly.
“My brother is partial,” said Miss
Madeline, smiling. “Air. Le Dru, you
resemble your father very much. The
last time I saw him he stood just where
you now stand, upon these very steps.”
i “lie spent a summer here, and I pass
ed a winter in Charleston with him,”
said Squire Douglas. “You were quite a
young girl then. Maddy,” J»e added, turn
ing to tis sister.
“Yes, quite young, said Miss Madeline,
with a smilo and n sigh. Old memories
stirred tenderly in the gentle heart beat
ing uuder Miss Madeline's ample bosom
nt the sight of Simon Le Dru’s son. Once
she had been very near marrying Simon
Le Dru. He was a noble man and loved
her truly, and she had hesitated long
before shying no. But she could not
desert her newly widowed brother and
his orphan child in their hour of need.
She sent the lover away and gave her
life to those who loved her nt home.
“I’hope you came all this way on pur
pose to visit us, Louis,” said the good
Squire.
+ "I have been making a little pleasure
trip through the West, sir. But I did
take in Kentucky for the purpose’ of
visiting you,” said Mr. Louis, uttering
his lie as glibly as though it were the
truth.
“That’s right! That’s right! Glad of
It, boy!”
At that moment a cry went up from
the sable group at the corner of the ve
randah. “Dere dey ccrtne! Dey’re a
cornin’!” And the wagon in which were
Vance and Sam rolled up the broad
drive. ..
Squire Dougins was down the steps in
a moment. “Why, why. Vance! What’s
all this —what’s all this? Sure it is
nothing worse than a sprained ankle?”
“Nothing worse, uncle, I’m glad to
say.”
“Well, It’s bad enough!” cried the old
gentleman, looking over the side of the
wagon at the fearfully swelled ankle,
from which Sam, by Vance’s orders, had
cut the boot. “Here, boys! one, two,
half a dozen of you, come and carry him
into the house, and let somebody ride
for Dr. Burnett!**
But to this Vance would by no means
submit He put them all aside, even to
Le Dru’s solicitous offer of assistance,
and leaning only on Sam’s shoulder, hob
bles up to his own room, while Squiro
Douglas began to give orders for the
comfort and entertninment of his unbid
den guest.
CHAPTER IV.
"Aunt Mnddy,” entreated Vance, as
he was followed upstairs by a curioas
trodp of house servants, “send them all
away. I won’t have it. I won’t have a
doctor, either! Just let Aunt Nerve fix
up something to stop this swelling, and
that’s all I need."
Aunt Nerve was the head of the house
servants, and had been Marcla'a nurse in
her babyhood. Sitting down on the floor,
she began skillfully to bind ap Vance's
injured ankle.
"Do you feel better, Vance?” asked
Miss Maddy, ns Aunt Nerve disappear
ed.
“Yes, aunty, much better. I wouldn’t
mind it a bit if it didn't keep me a pris
oner."
“1 hope it won’t do that very long.
Try to take a nap before dinner. It will
soon be ready, and I will send yours up
here. Try to rest, and it will do you
good."
Miss Madeline left the room. Vance
clgsed his eyes and leaned hia head wear
ily against the back of his easy chair.
Presently light footsteps sounded in the
hall, Ida door opened, and Marcia peeped
in on her way downstairs, fresh and
sweet in cool robes of thin pink tissue,
some sprays of sweet-fern fastened with
one crimson bud upon her bosom.
“How Is the laiue foot?" she asked.
“Much better. Come in, please," re
plica Vance, with n faint smile.
Murcia tripped over and stood beside
him, brushing the damp, golden locks
from liis forehead with her soft fingers,
“I'm so sorry. Vance! That was an
unlucky ride, wasn’t It?" she snid, with
more truth than ahe knew. "I'aina you?
Yes, I should thiuk it did, judging from'
your pale face."
"That doesn’t matter. It will soon be
well, llow do you like Mr. Le Dru,
Marcia?" . .
”1 can hardly tell yet. He is certainly
llie handsomest man I ever saw. anjjnfias
the most elegaut manners. Papa has 1 al
ready Invited lilin to stay all summer,
and he lias accepted the invitation.
Aren't you glad?”
"Um —well—yes, I suppose so!" said
Vance, dryly.
"He is so handsome, nil the girls will
be sure to fall in love with him!"
"Um—yes, I suppose so!" said Vance,
n third time. "Don't you lie one of the
girls in that respect. Marcia!"
“Oh, I'm proof!" laughed Marcia.
"There's the bell; I must go down. I’m
so sorry.you can't come, too. Vance. Mr.
Le Dru will miss you sq much."
"Bah! you miss me, 1 don’t care
whether, I.e Dru ever thinks of me at all
or not! ‘Now kiss me and run down; they
will be waiting for you.”
As freely and innocently as If he had
been her own brother, Marcia beut and
kissed him. As she stooped, the fra
grance of the sweet fern upon her bosom
was borne to Vance's senses. „
It is odd how small a tiling will some
times lastingly impress us. To liis dying
day. Vance never inhaled tile odor of
sweet fern without having a vivid picture
instantly before biiu of liis cousiu Mar.
cia ns she stood before him ill her pink
robes that bright June day.
Vince knew his own heart well. But
he know. too. that Marcia's aWaken.Dg
f 1 fiirlhood to noble wenu
hood had not yet come. She wa’e but
elgbteeo, h»ta**ntv-two. They were yet
so young, twfy lived under the same roof
and wer% H /lways together, there seemed
to be no n4ed of haste. • And so Vance
waited to p’nck the golden apples of life
until Lou.k Le I)ru . aine to shake tue
bough!
Dinner was announced ns soon ns
Marcia came down. The little party pro
ceeded to the wide, spacious dining room,
which opened upon 'a cool back piazza.
The table was covered with the finest
damask, and glittering with costly silver,
glass and. precious china. No one who
has ever been n guest in one of these
“old Kentucky homes” needs to be told
that it was luxuriously spread.
Mr. Louis exerted himself to make a
good impression, and succeeded beyond
bis hopes. The old Squire was delighted,
Marcia irresistibly charmed, and even
staid Miss Madeline thought, with a
sigh, of the days when his father had
sat nt that board and tried to win her
for his bride, and how proud she would*
now be if this handsome, black eyed
Louto could call her “mother.”
.Poor Vance had partaken of a soli
tary dinner in his own room. His apart
ment was directly over the parlor, and
the sound of gay voices and merry laugh
ter was wafted up to him by the summer
wind, effectually disturbing the slumbers
lu which he tried to lose himself.
Vance was not at all of a jealous tem
perament, but it was hardly consistent
with human naturfe that he could be con
tent to be n prisoner to his robm, while
in the parlor below this fascinating Car
olinian cast his witcheries over Marcia.
Mr. Le Dru had taken full license in
speaking of his frieudship with Vance,
lie knew that the college acquaintance
by no means warranted the name of
friendship. He never was a favorite
with Vance. There wore stories afloat
in those old days of things which the
honorable young Kentuckian coaid by no
means’ approve.
But as a guest iu his uncle’s house Le
Dru was safe against one hint to his
prejudice from Vance, and sure of the
most courteous treatment. Aud well he
knew it! But Mr. Louis overlooked one
point. Their meeting that morning had
not come about so auspiciously as to
make Vance forget everything to Louis’
discredit—-mther- the contrary.
Kentuckians ore nil born riders, and
very sensitive on the subject of their
main accomplishment. Vance was a far
better rider than Louis, and the accident
of the morning was a source of deep mor
tification to him. His upstairs musings
were not the pleasantest in the world,
nor the most favorable to Louis Le Dru.
At last, weary with the pain of his
ankle, lonely aud depressed. Vance fell
asleep in his chair and dreamed that i
Marcia and Le Dru were walking on the
edge of a terrible precipice, while he,
struggling to warn them of their danger,
could not make them hear or heed him.
But Marcia had not forgotten him. As
soon as politeness would allow her to
leave her devoted guest, she came up
stairs. She found Vance sleeping, with
a troubled look on his fine face, and stole
away without d :, sturbing him. But she
left a spray of frweet fern Jyiug upon
his folded hands, nnd when Vance awoke
he knew she had been there.
(To be continued.)
♦ ♦
;; TURNING A JOKE TO ACCOUNT, t
♦ WAAAAAA iiii ♦
The Itev. Thomas P. Hunt relates in
his “Autobiography" an instance of a
practical Joke turned against the jok
er to the profit of the Intended victim.
Mr. Hunt was in New York, soliciting
subscriptions for a Southern schooL
One man to whom he applied referred
him to another, saying that he would
subsclbe fifty dollars If the second
man gave anything, aud handed Mr.
Hunt a letter of Introduction. Mr.
Hunt found the second man In hia
counting-room, surrounded by his
friends, and presented the letter.
The man read it with a smile, writes
Mr. Hunt, and handed it to his friends,
lntroduclhjJ ,> me and explaining my mis
sion. I 6aw that fun- was brewing.
He began:
“I understand that you are collecting
money and that you are a minister of
the gospel?"
“Yes, sir."
“Well, you preach that men ought to
give of what they have. If 1 were to
ask anything of you. you would have
nothing to give but your blessing. If I
refused to take that, I should get noth
ing.”
"Yes, sir, If that was all I had to
give."
“Well, sir, I am a dealer In hard
ware. Will you tnke this hammer?"
He handed me a very fine one from his
sample case. I took It before lie had
time to draw back, thanked him for
it, and got him to enter his name In
Imy book.
There was a laugh, but not on me. I
was treated very handsomely ly all
present. I did not care about the ham
mer lull 1 had my eye on the fifty dol
lars promised by tho first merchant
on co: dltlon that I got anything out of
the hadu are dealer.
1 went back with the hammer, and
the man paid the fifty dollars, but
laughed louder than the dealer in hard
ware. It seems that the giver of the
hammer wan a generous, liberal and
social man. lie gave by the hundieds
to race-courses, club-rooms and such
things, but not a cent to religious pur
poses. Tile hammer was Iks first de
parture. The news soon spread that
he had given something for n rellgloua
lust it i:t I li.
Tile next day. ns 1 was passing down
Wall strict, a gentleman addressed me
and asked me to walk In. Several of
my fi lends of the day befpre were In
his r.eiin. lie asked to see my sub
s. rlption book, as he intended to sub
set li ■. He gave me ten dol'ara. Look
ing over my book, lie called to hli
friends. “Here Is the hammer, as cer
tain as pay-di}!*’
They re oyefl the !oke, and many a
dollar I got for the sight of that nano*
To be proud of learning Is the grsaf
est ignorance.—Taylor.
Chcup Poultry House.
The Illustration will show tlmt even
piano boxes may bo utilized for a poul
try bouse.wbero only a limited num
ber of fowls or chicks are to be ac
commodated; or with a number of
bouses thus, built, It may be possible
to furnish comfortable quarters for
the usual number of birds kept on an
average farm. U. U. Fishel of Indiana
tells Poultry News of bis twenty col
ony house constructed of piano boxes.
He says:
“We tnko two upright piano boxes
nnd four pieces of timber 2x4 and 10
feet long; we take thG r piano boxes
apart—keeping the fronts*' backs, ends
and bottoHis all together. We place
three of the 2x4s on the ground and
lay oh these 2x4s, nailing them solid,
making the bottom of the house (some
will have to be sawed off of the 2x4s).
The. four ends of the two boxes will
make the entire back of the house,
while the fronts will make each end
of the house and the remaining lum
ber will be used in the front of the
house. The three remaining pieces of
2x4 are used ns rafters to nail roofing
to. New ship lap lumber will have
to be bought for the roof, after which
the same Is covered with Neponset
Red Rope roofing paper. Two pairs
of f)-inch strap hinges, one hasp aud a
piece of 1-inch netting to cover opening
of door atfive window and one pane
of Bxlo light sash completes your
building, making a poultry house Bxlo
Ufww! I
A CHEAP POULTRY HOUUE.
.feet, all complete, for the low price
ot $7. If you can do the carpenter
work yourself the house will not cost
you over SO.”. This house will accom
modate fifty growing chicks, or fifteen
to twenty capons, and the claim iB
made that no bird kept In it nnd prop
erly taken care of, ever had its comb
frozen In the coldest weather. One
great advantage of such a small house
is that It can be placed on runners or
on a mud sleigh and moved wherever
it may be wanted on the farm. It
Is useful us a general purpose fowl
house, for hens with chicks, etc.
Value of Dual Purpose Cow.
If a man has no use for the calf, or
lias use for the calf and none for the
milk he has no use for the dual pur
pose cow.
In the former case he needs the Jer
sey or Ayrshire, In the latter Polled
Angus or Hereford. Here we need the
calves to condense feed and thus help
get It to market by condensing the
freight on It. A dual purpose cow is
oue that with a paying quantity of
milk aud a calf that will about top the
market when fed out. It la not possi
ble to get the best dairying qualities
nnd beat beef qualities in tho same
Idde, but It Is possible to get more
money out of a dual purpose cow than
can bo done with a special purpose
cow. i. e„ milk or beef.
There Is no breed of dual purpose
cattle, but- there Is n type of dual pur
pose cows common to all breeds. The
Ilerefords anil Polled Angus breeds
lmve a few dual' purpose cows, but
the Short Horns have a larger number
than any other breed. Whenever beef
bred cows have been milked for some
time they are on dual purpose quali
ties. Tlie Short ilorns, originally a
beef breed, lmve been used ns milkers
for years, nnd tills is why there are
more dual purpose cows in tills breed
than other breeds. If sturting a herd
of dun I purpose dairy cows, I would
buy yearling heifers aud use a bull
from dual purpose stock. When these
heifers have their first calves they
would feed strong, nnd would then get
rid of those that fattened und keep
those that increased in flow of milk,
but must not forget thnt to produce
milk, n cow should be fed u balanced
ration.
Turkeys in Cold Storage 12 Years.
Poultry and eggs ns old us eight to
ten years are being sold for consump
tion by the packers of Chicago. The
statement Is made by Alderman Wend
ling,' who for years was a butcher In
tlie stock yards, "I have known," be
says, “of turkeys being kept In cold
storage for twelve yenrs nnd chickens
for eight or ten years. Chli kens and
turkeys hatched tile year of the
YVnrld's Pair are yet In cold storage'at
the yards. Kggs of.j tho »’lati}se < 6f
3800 nnd 1807 are nlso tlierS; - *
How Many Seed to n Pound ? **"
Number of farm seeds in a pound
varies greatly with even the leading
farm crops. Ited top G 03.000, reed
canary grass (100,000. smooth-stalked
meadow grass 2.400.000. rough-stalked
meadow grass. 3,000.000, sheep's fee
cue, 080 000. various-leu fed feseus 400,-
000, creeping fescue 000, nwnless
brome grass 137,000, perennial rye
grass 330.800, Italian rye grass 285,-
000, orchard grass 579,500, meadow
fescue 318,200, mendow oat grass 150 -
000, yellow oat grass 2.045,000, velvet
grass 1,304,000, timothy, 1,170,600,
endow foxtail 007,0U0, vernal grass
0114,000, crested dog's tall 1,127,000,
nlsike clover 707,000, sainfoin 22,500,
red clover 279,000, white clover
common kidney vetch 154,000, alfalfa
or lucern 209.500, trefoil 328,000, bird's
foot trefoil 373,000, official goat's rue
02,000.
Help, for Butchering Time.
There is more or less work In tbo
killing of small animals during tbo
winter on muny farms, and always the
unuual butchering; although It Is get
ting to be quite the fashion In tlio
more thickly settled portions of the
country to sell the hogs In tho full nnd
buy tlie moat back from tbo town
butcher at double price during tbo
winter. Where there is more or less
butchering to be done one should hnvo
FOR THE FARM BUTCHER.
for ready use a large boiler of same
kind so that a quantity of water mny
be heated at oue time; tools such ns
knives, saws and other things used
should be kept In proper shape and ev
erything be in rendiness so that tbo
hard nnd disagreeable work may be
over with ns soon as possible.
The illustration shows a rack for
banging the enrenss of an nhtmal,
which should bo on every farm whore
butchering is done. It needs but little
description. A post eight or ten Inches
through nnd five or six feet high Is set
firmly in the ground, and cross-pieces,
two Inches or more thick nnd eight feet
long spiked io pole, In the positions
shown, so that they Will project three
feet on either side. They are notched
near the ends as Bhown nod braced un
derneath. These racks will save one
much strength, for when the hogs aro
hung on them they nre easily cut.
Homemade Tread Power.
A light tread power for churning,
turning grindstone, etc., is made by
mounting a disk wheel nearly horizon
tally. Ibe axle being Inclined so one
portion will be higher thnn the other.
The dog, sheep or cult used for motive
power Is tied at one side, headed to
ward the higher part. As the animal
walks, the wheel turns beenuse of the
animal's weight, and communicates
motion to the pulley or small friction
wheel ’beneath. There are no belts, no
cogs. The weight of the animal bears
the part of the large inclined wheel
upon the smaller wheel beneath and
causes it to revolve.
A discarded wagon wheel might be
used ns tlie framework of the large
wheel, nailing boards on the upper
surface for the animal to walk on, or
tuead powfji and cm:an.
a frame 1b easily made, und if some
what larger than a wagon wheel—say
0 feet or 7 feet in diameter —the circle
will be larger und the animal will find
the walking more direct. The under
wheel may be 0 or 8 inches In diame
ter. The power Is increased by giving
the large wheel more pitch, nnd dimin
ished by setting it more nearly level.
—E. 0. Bennett, in St. Louis Ilepub
lie.
Don't Be a Kicker.
Some men would rather kick ngalnst
some treutruont they are having or
find fault with the administration than
to talk about thdlr business and how
to make ir more of a success. Most
people tAlk over their business at nny
nnd nil opportunities, hut I lmve seen
farmers In a crowd that would talk
about everything else. Finding fault
with tlie weather, the railroads, or
wreaking vengeance on tho road super
visor or some such tiling does not as
sist one particle in making a better
fnrmer out of a man. The successful
man ndvertisos his business and Ims
interest enough in it to talk about It
to bis neighbors nnd others with whom
he comes in contact. —Cor. lowa Home
atead.
Horse Notes to Remember.
Teams that buve been partially Idle
for some time should come into work
again gnulunlly, nnd their shoulders
should bo washed and bathed in salt
nnd wntto - . ‘ ' ", .’
V. JJdver Yilfjfcu Mfa "with a 'unfitly.'or
snllow chest, or whose forelegs nre
close*tt)g6ther. lie has not sutti
cient room for n set of strong lungs,
and will not he long winded.
In the treatment of distemper an
English veterinary advises tlie benefi
cial effect of blaiodide of mercury ns
nn antiseptic. Its good elTects nre duo
more to its absorption than to its blis
tering uotion, ns it is the most power
ful of all nntlseptlcs (microbe killers).
It was used successfully in scores of
rases as a blister applied to tlie swell
ing under the Jaws. Distemper Is au
Infective disease which usually confers
subsequent immunity in the patient
Webster tVm Willing.
When r>an|el Webster's market man
had sued him for it long uupaid Jiill
and got bis money lie was so scared at
Ills temerity Hint lie stopped milling at
the door for orders The Godlike Dan
lel asked him why. one day, and tlie
man confessed that he supposed Mr.
Webster would never trade with him
again. "Oil," aahl W'ebst’r, “sue me as
often as you like, hilt for heaven's sake
don’t starve me."
There was never a lime -when tlie
great man was not willing lo owe ns
much as anybody was willing to let
him owe.—Sprln'-Ti Id Republican.
A Wonderful Discovery.
Itroadlnnd, 8. Dak.. March 28.—
Quite a sensation bus been created her.
by the publication of the story of G.
W. Gray, who, after a special treat
ment for three mouths, was prostrata
and helpless and given up to die with
Bright’s Disease. Bright s Disease has
always been considered incurable, but
evidently from tlie story told by Mr.
Gray then- Is a remedy which will cure
It even in the most advanced stages.
This is wlint lie says:
"I was lielpleßs as a little babe. My
wife and I searched everything and
rend everything we could find about
Bright's Disease, looping that 1 would
he able to find a remedy. After many
failures my wife Insisted thut I should
try Dodd's Kidney Pills. 1 praise God
for the day when I decided to do so.
for this remedy met every phase of my
ease and In a short time I was able to
get out of |ied, and after a few weeks’
treatment I was a strong, well man.
Dodd’s Kidney I’ills saved my life."
A remedy that will cure Blight's
Disease will cure any lessor Kidney
Disease. Dodd's Kidney Pills are cer
tainly the most wonderful discovery
which modern medlcul research has
given to the world.
Help Wanted.
A. Passer —What would you do if 1
should kiss you? - m
Mary Melanie —I would scream for
help.
A. Fusser —Why, don’t you think I
could do it alone?—Pennsylvania Puucli
Bowl.
WESTERN CANADA HAS AN EX
CELLENT CLIMATE.
The Saskatchewan Valley Vcrjr High
ly Favored.
An interesting feature of Western
Canada is its climate. Those who
have made a study of it speak Highly
of it. The Canadian Government
Agents are sending out an Atlas, and
nt tho same time giving valuable In
formation concerning railway rates,
etc., to those interested in the coun
try. As lias been said, the climate is
excellent. The elevation of this part
of Canada Is about 1,800 feet above
the sea. about twice that of the aver
age for Minnesota. It is a very desira
ble altitude. The country has n very
equable climate, taking the seasons
through. The winters are bright, nnd
tlie summers are pleasantly warm. R.
F. Rtupart, director of the meteorologi
cal service for Canada, says:
"The salient features of the climate
of the Canndian northwest territories
are a clear, bracing ntmosphere dur
ing the greater part of the year, and
a medium rainfall and snowfall. The
mean temperature for July at Winni
peg is 00, and Prince Albert 02. The
former tempera'u.-e is higher than at
any part of Ragland, nnd the latter Is
very similar to that found in many
parts of the southern countries.”
At Prince Albert the average daily
maximum In July is 70 and the mini
mum 48. Owing to this high day tem
perature with much sunshine, the
crops come to maturity quickly.
Moisture Is ample In the Saskatche
wan valley, being about 18 inches an
nually. It Is notnble that about 75
per cent or the moisture runs fluring
the crop months. Thus. Western Can
ndn gets as much moisture when It is
needed, and with several hours more
sunshine dnlly than,land further south
gets during the growing season. It Is
not difficult to understand why crops
mature quickly nml yield bountifully.
Winter ends quickly, sowing Is done
during April and sometimes In March.
Harvest comes In August, about tills
middle. Cyclones, hlizznrds, dust and
laud storms nre unknown.
It Mount Seetn So.
"Say, pa," queried little Johnny Bum*
pernickle. “what’s n (lying machine?"
“A flying machine, my son.” replied
tlie old man, “is a vehicle used by peo
ple who dwell in air eastles."
For $1.05 Money Order,
Tlie John A. Snlzer Seed Co., La
Crosse, Wis., mail postpaid 15 trees, eon-,
listing of Apricots, Apples, Crabs, Cher
ries, I’lunis, Peaches and I’eurs, just the'
thing for a city or country garden, in
cluding the great Bismnrk Apple, all
hardy Wisconsin stock, are sent you free
upon receipt of $1.05.
AND FOB 10c AND THIS NOTICE
you get sufficient seed of Celery, Car
rot, Cabbage, Onion, Lettuce, Kadiak and
Flower Seeds to furnish bushels of
choice flowers nnd lots of vegetables for
a big family, together with their great
plaut and seed catalogue. (O. N. U.)
One Woman's YVny.
Mrs. Tattles —She told mo the whole
atory word for word, just an 1 have re
peated it to you, and she made me prom- 1
ise on iny honor thnt I wouldn't whisper
a word of it to anybody.
Mr. Tattles—Hut, my dear, you told
me.
Mrs. Tattles-—Oil, yea. of course; but
I ilidn.'t whisper, did I?
Teoafnce anil• Ititllnn Dollar Grnss.
The two greatest fodder plants on
earth, one good for 14 tons liny nnd tho
other 80 tons giecu fodder per acre.
Grows everywhere. o docs Victoria'
Bapc, yielding 00.000 His. sheep anil
swine food per acre.
lI’ST SEND lOr IN STAMPS TO THE
Jobu A. Snlzer Herd Co., La Crosse,
Win., aiul receive in return their big
iqitalogue and lota of farm seed samples.
(C. N. U.l
California inis 05,000 trade unionists,
if whom 40,000 are in San Francisco.
I hare used Pieo’s Cure for Cousurup
ion with good results. It is all right —
lohn W. Henry, Box 042. Foetoria. Ohio.
OcL 4. 1901.