Newspaper Page Text
from plot ""•S mo® I -, v1**v'*"•".' }*-*$ SYNOPSIS. CnArTKli I.—Gro,nfnli I.nrrr, a wealthy A.no!Ionii globe Irnttor. stumbles Into nc qiiiilutiinfo with a- elinrmlng foreign girl oit thf train from IVuvoi* to Washington. 'I lip pair arc left lioliiinl when the fllor stops for vi^r.'iliH in West Virginia. CIIAl'TI.'It II.—I.orry wires ahead to holil the trnlu. He ami the unknown girl i1le tuent ini!es at a tearing pace in a moun tain ooiich. There Is no_loveniaking. but a near approach to it ay tin rolling wtage tumble:- the passengers about. CIIAI'TEH 111.-Lolly cllties Willi the foreign party, ooiisisiing of Miss (iuggen- •loL-kir. W& flu Mf fefe- Uncle Casper and Annt Yvonne. I'lie.v are natives of GrauxtarU, country I.ori-.v had never heard of before. rnAl"J'!:u IV.—Lorry shows the foreign •is tile slghtH of Washington. Tiioy leave for Now York to sail on the Kaiser Wil lie lui. Miss OiigKensloeker naively rails Louj her ''itleal Amerlean" and invites him to come mid see her at. Edelweiss. t-HAl'TISIt V.- Wildly infatuated. I.orry btirriub to Xew York. T)ie name tiuggen Slockor is not ou the steamer list. He sees the steamer off. Miss (J. waves him a kiss the deck. &•* wf rr In #^4n fe fSfi kj- 'jfir to abdfict the princess and resolve to capture the plotters red handed. C'lIAPTEIt IX.—Tollowing the conspira a tors. Lorry finds himself in a room ho v„\ hejul them designate iis that of the prin- cess v.'*" CIIAPTEK X.—Lorry tells the princess of tile plot. -Mutual recognition she Miss Guggcnsiockei'. 1 tl» "JLoi en/ Ply. "Devilish -uncommunicative," thought Lorry. After a moment lie asked, y^.j"How far do we travel tonight?" "A. number of miles." 1 "Then I'm going to take off this wet coat. It weighs a ton. Won't you re move yours?" He jerked off the big rain coat and threw it across to the opposite seat, With the keys and the lantern. There was a moment's liesi tation on the part of his companion, find then a second wet coat followed the first. Their rain helmets were also tossed aside. "Makes a fellow feel more comfortable." After tnis there was a longer silenca than at any time before. The soldier drew himself into the coriner of the seat, an action which repelled further tdiscusBion, it seemed to Lorry, so he leaned Jjaek in the opposite corner and allowed liis mind to Zander far from the interior of that .black, stuffy car riage. Whore was he going? When was ho to leave Graustark? Was he to sse het soon Soon the carriage left the smooth fitroets of ICdelwoiss, and he could tell by the jolting and careening that they .wwe in the country, racing over a rough, rocky road. It reminded him of an overland trip he had taken in -West Virginia some months before, v.!tU the fairest girl in all the world as -. bin companion. Now he was ridiug in her carriage, but with a surly, untaika tive soldier of the guard. The more he 'allowed liis thoughts Jo revel in tlie Alitor!?• !), ride and its delights the mor^nmontroUable became his desire ib nee the one who had whirled with him in "Light Horse" Jerry's'coach. •#.*• -4tf -4K- tike *$g sk? oA. N&> a** ••r" "^S1* "T^P ""-'J'* "^i"'1 «^p» •"ft® »3*» «$ *SJf» 3$5® f¥S6 i«Bj ^pi iSfc% 7 3011 h,,t 01,1 Paris. Graustark and its capital Edel- vrelss, are located by a guidebook. The Americans get no' trace of the Guggen- sloekors there. CIIAPTEU VII-Lorry sees Ills charmer ("lining In a carriage with a beautiful conir paulos of her own sex. IIe gels* a glance of recognition, hut the carriage rolls on leaving his mysiery unsolved. Later he receives a note at his hotel signed Sophia Guggensloclcer. Inviting him to visit her next, day. I'FIAl'TEIl VIII.—In the evening Lorfy the ca'u" .-• ..". By ...•'••'•* GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEQN Ccpj/rtffJit, inol, by Herbert S. Sl'nnc is laiiiiox, tile guard, Is in the abduction plot. He fells Lorry With u. terrible blow. Anguish to the res cue t'HAI'TER XL—Lorry iiuarlercd in the castle. The princess vists him, but for bids all talk of lovis CIIAPTEIt XII.—Graustark is bankrupt and owes the neighboring princedom of A\phain .^IIO.OUO.OOO. T1k» (jredltor demands easii or cession of the richest districts of Graustark. CHAPTER XIII.—Tile Prince of Axphain offers to extend the loan If the princess will marry his sou Loreim. Prince Gabriel »f Hawsbergeii also bids for the pricess' hand villi offer of a loan. Votive tells Lorry that she belongs'to her people and will marry Lorenz. CHAPTIClt XIV.—Lorry discovered klss til'.' princess while she is seated on the throne. He quits the caslli.- by royal com mand.. CHAPTER XV.—Betrothal of the prln •ejss to Lorenz. The Americans recognize Gabiiei as chief conspirator in (lie abduc- ^flon nlot. TJ ''HAPl'ER XVI.—Lorenz loasts the prin *r ess lightly in a cafo. Lorry dashes the »/A'luss from Ills hand. Challenge to a duel. -y assassinated. Lorry charged with -/:-?'lhe prime. 'llAl'TICK XVII.—Princess Yetive com •'. intts Lorry to prison. A|1 Graustark re joices Ht the death of Loreuz. CHAPTER XIX. THE SOLDIER. OFF went the carriage with a dash, the rumble of its wheels joining in the grewsome roar of the elements. For some time the two sat speechless side by Bide. Outside the thunder rolled, the rfein sWirlsd and hissed, the wind howled and all the horrors of nature seemed crowded into the blackness of i. that tfttilling nigBt. Lorry wondered vaguely whither they were going, why he bfccl seen no flashes of lightning, if he should ever see her again. His-, mind was busy with a thousand thoughts and queries. "Where are we going?" he asked aft er they hftd traveled half a mile or so. "To a place of safety," came the re ply from the darkness beside him. "Thanks," he said dryly. "By the way, don't you have any lightning in this part of the world? haven't seen a flash tonight." "it is very rare," came the brief re- 1 -K xw.vj. "I wlsli to know how soon I am to see your mistress.'' ho exclaimed im pulsively, sitting up nna striking Ills companion's arm by way of emphasis. To his surprise, the hand was (laslied away, and lie distinctly heard the sol dier gasp. "I bog your pardon!" lie cried, fearing that lie had given pain with his eager strength. "You stiirtled me. I was half asleep," stammered the other apologetically. "Whom do you mean by my mistress?" "Iler royal highness, 5f course," said I.orry impatiently. "X cannot say when you are to see tin princess," said his companion after waiting so long that Lorry felt like kicking him. "Well, see here, my friend, do you know why I agreed to leave that place back there? I said I wouldn't go away from Graustark until I liad seen her. If you fellows are spiriting me away— kidnaping me, as Iricud, Harry Anguish, an American artist, t„ii ... .. y. i.T juiiiijcu jiito iujs uiiug "where '.hvell's"th' 'court'of'"the Princess of Graustark. They overhear it m,Ist were—I want to ^Ollt lia\e it that way. I know right now where we are go- In this awful storm!" 'I have orders to tell you nothing," said the soldier stanelily. "Orders, eh! From whom?" -/i "That is my affair, sir!" "I guess I'm about as much interest ed in this affair as anybody, and I in sist on knowing our destination. I Jumped into this thing blindly, but I'm g°ina: t0 See uiinuiy, out 1 m-V W0-V a SO out of 14 before we much farther. Where are we go- ing?': "You —you will learn that soon enough," insisted the other. "Am I to see lier soon? That's what I want to know." "You must not insist!" cried the sol dier. "Why are you so anxious to see her?" he asked suddenly. "Don't be so blamed inquisitive," tried Grenfali angrily, impatiently. "Tell me where we are going or I'll put a bullet into you!" Drawing his re volver, he leaned over, grasped the guard by ihe. shoulder and placed the muzzle againsit his breast. "For God's sake, be calml You would not kill me for obeying orders! I am serving one you love. Are you mad? I shall scream if you keep pressing that horrid thing against my side." Lqrry felt him tremble and was at oi)ce filled with compunction. How could he ex pect a loyal fellow to disobey orders "I beg your pardon a thousand times," he cried, jamming the pistol into his pocket. "You are a brave'gentleman, and I am a fool. Take me where you will. I'll go like a lamb. You'll admit, however, that it is exasperating to he going in the dark like tliis." "It is a very goodv thing that it is dark," said the soldier quickly. "The darkness is very kind to UB. NO one can see us, and we can see Ho oli$ "I should say not. I havan't the faintest idea what you look l'ik'e. Save I seen you at tbe castle"?" "Yes, frequently." "Will you tell me your name?" "You would not know me by name." "Are you an officer?" "No. I am new to the service." "Then I'll efe that you are promoted. I like your stanchn&Ss. How old are you?" "I am—er—twenty-two." "Of the nobility?" "My father was of noble-birth." "Then you must be do too. I hope you'll forgive my rudeness.. I'm a bit nervous, you know." "I forgive you gladly." "Devilish rough road this." "Devilish. It is a mountain road.™ "That's where we were too." "Where who were?" "Oh, a young lady and I some time ago. I just happened to think of it." "It could not hare bben:pleet&nt" "You never made a bigger mistake in your life." "Ob, she must have been pretty, then." "You are right this time. She is glo rious." "Pardon me. They usually are in such adventures." "By Jove, you're a clever one!" "Does she live In America?" "That's none of your affai^" "Oh!" And then there was silence between them. "Inquisitive fool!" muttered Gren to himself. For some time they bumped along over the rough road, jostling against each other freqnently, .both enduring stoically and silently, suddenly Lorry remembered tbe Ismtern. It was 'Still lit with the slide closed when he,threw it on tlie seat. Perhaps it still burned and could relieve the oppressive dark ness if but for a short time. He might at least satisfy his curiosity and look upon the face of his companion. Leaning forward, he fumbled among the traps on the opposite seat. "I think I'll see if the lastern is lighted. Let's have it a little more cheerful in here," he said. There was a sharp exclamation, and two vigorous hands grasped hiui by the shoulder, Jerking him buck unceremoniously. "No, no! You will ruin all! There, must be no light!" cried the soldier, his voice high and shrill. "But we are out of the city." "I know! I know! But I will not permit you to have a light Against orders. We have not passed the out posts," expostulated tbe oth«r nervous ly. "What's the matter with your voice?" I' ''fjr -1® (Vlt/ demanded I.orry, struck by the change in it. "My voice?" asked the other, the tones natural again, "it's changing. Didn't it embarrass you when your voice broke like that?" questioner breathlessly. Lorry was now leaning back in the seat, quite a little mystified. "I don't believe mine ever broke like that," he said speculatively. There was no response, and he sat silent for some time, regretting more and more that it was so dark. Gradually he became conscious of a strange, unaccountable presence in that dark cab. lie could feel a change coming ovftr him. He could not tell why, but he was sure that some one else was beside him. some one who was not the soldier. Something soft and delicate and sweet came into existence, permeating the darkness will) its un deniable presence. A queer power seemed drawing liim toward the other end of the seat. The most delightful sensations took possession of him. His heart fluttered oddly. Ilis head began to reel under the spell. "Who are you?" he cried in a sort of ecstasy. Tli£re was no answer. He remembered his match safe and with trembling, eager fingers drew it from the pocket of the coat he was wearing. The next instant he was scratching a match, but as it flared the body of iiis companion was hurled against his and a ruthless mouth blew out the feeble blaze. "Oh, why do you persist?" was cried in his ears. "I am determined to see your face," he answered nhSrply, and with a low cry of dismay the other occupant of the carriage foil back in the corner. The next match drove away the dark ness aad the mastery. With blinking eyes lie saw the timid soldier huddling in the corner, one arm .covering his face, the other hand vajnly striving to pull the skirt of a military coat, over a pair of red trouser legs. Below the arm that hid the eyes and nose he saw parted lips ami a beardless, dainty chin above, long, dark tresses strayed in condemning confusion. The breast benchtli the blue coat heaved convul sively. The match dropped from his fingers, and as darkness fell again it hid the soldier in the strong arms of tlie fugi tive—not a soldier bold, but a gasping, blushing, unresisttdfe coward. The lithe forui quivered and then became mo tionless In t!ss fierce, straining em brace. The head dropped upon his shoulder, his hot lips caressing the burning face and pouring wild, inco herent words into the little ears. "You! You!" he eried,' triad with joy. "Oh. this is heaven itself! My brave darling! Mine forever—mine forever! You shall never leave me now! Drive on! Drive on!" he shouted to the men outside, drunk with happiness. "We'll make this journey endless. I know you love me now—I know it! Oh, I. shall die with joy!" A hand stole gently into his hand, and her lips found his in a long, pas sionate kiss. "I do not want you to know! Ach, I am so sorry! Why, why did I come to night? I was so strong, so firm, I thought but see how weak I am! You dominate me you own me, body and soul, in spite of everything against my will. I love you, I love you, I love you,!" "1 have won against the princes and the pofl^atates! I was losing hope, my qtletea—losing hope. You were so far away, so unattainable. would brave a thousand deaths rather than lose The next match drove envoy the dark ness and the mystery. this single minute of my life. It makes me tbe. richest man in all the,.world. How brave you are! This night you have givejn up everjrthijpg far my sake. You are fleeing with me away from all that has been dear to you." 'No, no you must not be deluded. It is only for tonight, only tijl you are safe from pursuit. I shall go back. You must not hope for more than this hour of weakness, sweet as it is to me!"«she cried. "You are going back tyid not,with me?' he cried, his heart cHilling. "You khow I cannot. That is why I hoped yjou would never know how much I care for you. Alas, you have found me out! My love was made rash by fear. You could never have es caped the vengeance of Axphain. I could not have shielded you. Tlii» was the only course, aud I dared not hesi tate. I should have died with terror liad you gone to trial, knowing what I knew. You will not think me unwoili anly for coming with^vou as I am. It was necessary—really it was! No one else could have"— But he smbthered the wail in kisses. 'Tuwomanly!" he exclaimed: "It was by divine inspiration. But yoai will come with me, away from Graustark, away from every one. Say that you Will!" "I cannot bear to. hear you plead, and THE OTTIJMWA CO UK IE B. ft breaks my heart to go back there. But I cAnnot leave Graustark- I can not! It would In' heaven to go with you to the end of lie world, but I have others besides myself to consider. You went oil the are my god, my idol. I can worship you from my unhappy throne, from my chamber, from the cell into which my heart is to retreat. Hut I cannot, I not. desert Graustark—not even you!" He wus silent, impressed by her no bility, her loyalty. Although the joy ebbed from his craving heart, he saw the justice of her self sacrifice. "I would give my soul to see your face now, Yetive. Your soul is in your eyes. I can feel it. Why did yoji not let me stay in prison, meet death and so end all? It would have been better for both of us. I cannot live without you." "We can live for each other, die for each other—apart. Distance will not lessen my love. You know that, it ex ists. It lias been betrayed "Co you. Can you not be satisfied—Just a little bit— with that knowledge':" she pleaded., "But I want you in reality, not in my dreams, my imagination." "Ach,* we must not talk like this! There is no alternative. You are to go I am to stay. The future is before us. God knows what it may bring to us. Perhaps it may be good enough to give us happiness—who knows? Do not plead with me. I cannot endure it. Let me be strong again! You will not be so cruel as to ba'ttio against me now that I am weak. It woukl only mean my destruction. You do not seek that!" His soul, his honor, the greatest rev erence he had ever known were in the kiss that touched her brow. "I shall love you as you command— without hope," he said sadly, "Without hope for either," she sob bed. "My poor little soldier," he whisper ed lovingly as her body writhed under the storm of tears. "I—I wish—I were a—soldier!" she wailed. He comforted her as best he could, and soon she was quiet—oh, so very quiet! Her head was on his shoul der, her hands in his. "How far do tfe drive?" he «sked at last. "To the monastery. We s'*e nearly there," she answered in tones far away. "The monastery? Why do we go there?" he cried.* "5fou are to stay there." "What do you mean? I thought I frras to leave Graustark." "You are to leave—later on. Until the excitement is over the abbey is to be your hiding place. I have arranged everything, and it is the oriiy safe place on earth for you at this time. JCo one will think of looking for you up there." "I would to God I could stay there forever, living above you," he said drearily. "Your window looks down upon the castle mine looks up to yours. The lights that burii iri those two windows will send out beams of-love and life for one of us at least." "For both of us, my .sweetheart," he corrected fondly. "You say I will be safe there. Can you trust, these men who are aiding you?" "With my life! Quinnox carried a message to the abbot yesterday, and he grants you a temporary home there, secure and as secret as the totab. He promises me this, and he is my best friend. Now, let me tell you why I am with you, masquerading so shame fully"— "Adorably!" lie protested. "It is because the-abbot insisted that I bring you to him personally. He will not receive you except from my hands. Tliere was nothing else for me to do, then, w'as there, Lorry? I was com pelled to come, and I could not come as the princess—as a woman. Discov ery would have meant- degradation from which I could not have hoped to recover. The military garments were my only safeguard." "And how many people know of your —deception?" "Three besides yourself Dagmttr, Quinnox and C^P&fn Dangloss. The abbot will know'la&ir on, aud I shiver as I think of it. The driVe'r and the The carriage stopped too soon, and Quinnox opened the door. It was still as dar] as pitch, but the downpour had ceased except for a disagreeable, misty drizzle, cold and penetrating. "We have reached the stopping place," he soid. "And we are to walk from here to the gate," said the princess, resuming her hoarse, manly tones. While they were busy donning their raincoats she whispered in Lorry's ear, "I beg of you, do not let him know that you h%y,e .discovered who I nnj." iSfV' (To Be Continued) The new Baptist churcb, at Ft. Dgdge has been dedicated. as j. uiiuK oi it. ice ctrtver ana tne nevemjor more man who went to your cell, Ogbot,1 n.—— -i -i end of old Jones. Show of the escape, but do not know I am heife. Allode—you remember him— is our driver." "Allode? He's the fellow who saw me—er—who was in the throneroo'ftj." "He is_ Hie nlan wfcb saw nothing, sir." '.'I r£m£i»ber his obedience," he said, lafighing ip tSptte of his unhap'piness. "Am I to uo freedom up here— no liberty at all?" "You ate to act as the abbot or the prior'instructs, and, I must not forget, Quinnox will visit you occasionally. He will conduct you from the monas tery and to the border line at the prop er tiijje." "Alas, bp will be my murderer, I feat! Yetive, you do not believe 1 killed Lorenz. I know tiitit most of them do, but I swear to you I am no more the perpetrator of that cowardly crime tfian you. God bears testimony to my innocence. I want to hehr you say that you do not believe I killed Mm." "I feared so at first—no, do not be angry—I feared you.had killed him for my sake, bul now I am sure that you are innocent." »^3-TRIGG. •. 0 fir copyzusHT, tool ey J.5.TRISC, ROCKFORD,IA. CORRESPONDENCE iOUCITEp. iXB»«» Frosted and immature best utilised in the silo. corn may The cribs of the corn belt are to be filled with a good average crop of corn this fall. From the woman's standpoint a man should be just like a Perchcron horse— big and strong, but very docile and tractable. The several byproducts of corn, cot ton and oil have now become of almost as much importance to the world as the original materials. The same is largely true of our meat products. If there could be secured just three stalks of corn in the hill and there be no hills missing, and each stalk would produce an ear eleven inches long, a yield of 140 bushels to the ajre would be obtained. The government estimate of the dam age done by the great floods of the cen tral west the past season is in excess of $40,000,000, and this does not incluvte tlie incidental injury in the lowering of crop yields outside the direct path of the floods. Abnormal weather conditions in the northwest have so stimulated the strawberry beds that in many places we get reports of a second crop of ber ries. This is a curious freak of nature which is rather boasted of, but the truth ia that where the second fruiting occurs it will greatly injure the crop of next season. Farming by the dlisk harrow meth ods induces slovenliness and superfi ciality in the cultivation of the soil. Vast areas of grain producing territory are now worked almost wholly with thi3 tool, and the good old fashioned plowing of the fieiis is a lost art. Valuable tool as the disk harrow is, it should never be mads to take tlie place of the plow.' Ellis county, Tex.~ is bragging over a cotton crop worili $5,000,000, and Rush county, Kan., is pointing with pride to a crop of v» Inter wheat worth $2,500,000. And theife are only isolated counties in two tfriat states. Stocks may .touch a low eblj- in Wall street and poverty show its head among the man ufacturing sections, but there never can be very hard times in those sec tions of tlie country where original wealth is created at such a rate as in those referred to. He is sixty and a farmer, rich, but has no sense. He has always set the pace which kills—more land, more land, more crops, more work. His -vyife died ten years ago, worn out trying to keep his gait his boys have eacli run away the first chance they had his daugh-' ters have married any old stick of a man to be able to get away from home. Tlie sons and the worthless sons-in-law are now watching and waiting like buzzards on a fence for the old man to die so that tbey may divide up his pos sessions. There will be a big funeral some day soon—seventy-five or more #ca'r'flBe8 and a" that—and that's the Natural law favors a diversification of farm products rather than special izing or devoting the farm to the pro duction of any one crop. No truth is more easy to comprehend than this— that when any one form of animal or vegetable life is given entire control of the land some disease is almost"sure to appear sooner or later to compel the Change to something else. A little of many things will contribute not ouly to freedom from disease, but better assjre satisfying financial returns. By way of illustration we note that 150 or 200 hens may be kept successfully on a farm, but increase the number to 1,000, and for njany reasons they will not paj\ The same is true of sheep and hogs. We are more and more impressed with the practical value of the idea suggested in these notes a year ago— the joint ownership of a flock of. s«y, 300 sheep by eight or ten adjoining formers, the flock to be under the con stant care of a shepherd, aided by a trained dog, these sheep to be kept pri marily as weed destroyers on highway and field and utilizers of waste grain and forage on the farms of their own ers. Thus kept, the two great objec tions which obtain against the keep ing, of sheep—the cost of fencing and the, losses by dogs—would be wholly remove^. The logical result of so keep ing sycli a flock of sheep would be f/ew er weeds clean highways and an inci dental annual profit for the owners more than sufficifnt ,to pay all their taxes. The flock could be either win tered in a body or divided up for this purpose among the ownerp. Another advantage would be Iresh mutton ail the year round when it was waited. .v i® TV« White Brahma is one of our best winter egg producers, but she makes one tired with her usclessness during tlie summer. 1 Cheap lands and unquestioned fertil ity of soil don't really count for very much when there comes a foot of snow and ice a half inch thick in middlu September. It is better to have but ?3,000 when one is sixty and good health as the not result of a lite lived moderately and well than to have $60,000 and a wrecked constitution as a result of try ing to own the earth. The corporations are not consistent in barring out men over forty from their service, for nearly all the best general officers of the roads and their boards of directors are gray haired men—men with brains and experience. -V -4 A flock of hens running tit large on a farm homestead will not yield the profit the same flock would when yarded and properly fed and cared for. A friend who has tried both ways tolls us that he gets nearly twice as many eggs un der the last named method as he did when his chickens ran wild. We find the cow which freshens in the fall to be more profitable than tlie one fresh in the spring. It is easier to regulate the rntion of the milk cow in winter than in the summer, and our experience is that her fall calf gets a better start in life also. It is a good arrangement all round to have the cow dry in dog day^. An economic fact of the greatest sig nificance is the falling off in the de mand for steel—structural steel for building, for rails and the like. This fact marks the end of the boom condi tions of the past four years. In a year from now it may be possible to secure both material and men for building en terprises at a reasonable figure. It is claimed that the music of a brass band will kill mosquitoes. A •western Chautauqua meeting which at O.rst was almost broken up by the pest fcecamc entirely free from them after t'.ie services ol' a brass bund were se cured. This singular fact, if fact it is, d,\es not surprise us, for some bands W'» know are calculated to drive away all: animate things. ^ne eastern railway corporation is at wcirk trying to solve the important question of a future supply of ties for thv use of the road by setting out its risfit of way with black locust trees. Th roads hn ve on the average not less thj,n four acres of laud available for tlii|s purpose for each mile of road and in the level prairie sections even) more anji this land could be put to far better usj devoted to timber culture than to be an annual expense to the corpora tions to keep the weds cut down. Ipverything has its innings sooner or. laler, and the summer of 11)03 has been a bee year all through the west. An Ufheard of crop of white clover bloom 1|/Sting over a period of six or seven' "t/eeks started them, and they just swarmed and swarmed aud piled up flhe honey at a rate never known be fore. They have made hives of the trees, holes in the ground, got into the uttics of houses, lined the sides of "Kchoolhouse and barn with masses of well tilled comb aud have brought the price of the most luscious of sweets down to 8 cents a pound. Great year for the bees! There is much comfort connected with getting things all in shape for the winter—fuel in the shed, plenty of fod der in the jam, corncribs tilled up, plowing all done, water supply handy for the stock, the cellar filled up with vegetables 'and canned fruits. When this is all done, as it may and should be, the man who has worked fourteen hours a day for five months may look forward to the winter season with pleasure as a lime for a measure of rest and rftcreatiou. One trouble is that too mnny of us try to get ready for winter after it is here, ancl then there is no fun connccted with it. 1 England raised only 45,000,000 bush els of wheat this year and wants 208, 000,000 bushels more from some coun try in orjjer to feed her people, most of which will be supplied from this coun try. Then she has got to come here for a good share of her meat, for nearly all her fruits aud for till tlie cotton with which to supply her immense fac tories. Each year we buy less and less of her manufactured products, and each year the balance of trade grows larger againpt her. If it were not that she is able to sell her lords and dukes at big prices to our fool American girls and' that she has a batch of old ruins aud relics wbicli Americans pay 1/er big money to see, we would own the whole island inside'of fifty years. The tenacity with which^soihe tifngs, and usually the mean things, hang on to life and persist in tlio effort to prop agate themselves is well illustrated in our experience with a burdock this season. We saw it come up in the spring and let it grow until June, when we fixed it, as we'then thought, by cutting it off four inches below the surface. Along in July wo noted that it had made another good start and was sending up a well tilled seed" head. We cut it again. Along in late September, passing by, we noticed that it had still vigor euough. to push up a feeble stalk, upon the tip of which was a tiny blos som bud. This beat us. and we let it alone on the broad and humanitarian ground that anything which would try so hard to live and reproduce itself should, as far as we were concerned, have a chance. S -H •.,'THB OLD FOI,K9.' The old fo|ks -and the carei'of tlieni fctfter they have become no longer able to care for themselves is a sufiject in which nearly all are interested and one very closely nllied to our religion and our civilizations While as a people we term ourselves pretty well civilized, there is, still a lot of barbarity puac ticed in this connection. None of us has to look very far or very long to see cases which make our blood boll at the ingratitude and lack of filial re gard on the part of children toward their parents, some permitting the old folks to spend their last days in some poorhouse or asylum, others permitting them to exist outside such places in the direst poverty Or indifferently allowing some ktndjiearted son or daughter to bear the entire burden of the old peo ple's support. Now, here is a little plain talk for the old" people themselves, or, rather, those who know,they will be in that class in a short time. If as a re sult of your toil and labor you are pos sessed of a little property, you just hang on t8 it hard and tight. Don't let it go to help some sou or daughter, no matter what may be the emergency. So long as you have money or property others will care Well for you, and de pendence, the very heaviest burStn of age, will not be yours to carry. In a general way it is best for old people to have their own home unless death has divided them. Age brings a certain amount of crankiness even to the best of us, and the right to say what ono pleases and do as ono wishes is proba bly appreciated more when one reaches seventy than ever before. The love of money may be the root of all evil, but nevertheless the possession of good hard cash or its equivalent will 'do more to smooth the days when the grasshopper has become a burden titan any other thing. Old people should eat away at the principal of their ltttl* capital and should not deny themselves, needed comforts ov.even luxuries tln order to hand down their property in tact to their heirs. Let the heirs scratch and earn some for themselves. Some where we have read of. the pathetic story of woman who. fearing a burial at the expense of others, bad figured out the cost of the funeral expenses and had yorked hard and long to lay. aside the uioney needed for -this pur pose and who practically starved her self to death rather than touch a penny of the hoard. It should be, if children are rightly brought up and a family, bond of love and affection binds the .family together, ttfen when father and mother become helpless and old they would be most welcome guests at tli9 home of any one of their children, but wo feel almost Justified in saying that such eases are the exception rather than the rule. The next best thing it* for old people to hang on to their prop- erty, for money will sometime# go lar ther than affection. .•.* THE tiXTOUCHKO WOODS. We found our way Into a bit of the old forest not long since, a small tract of the primeval woods lying in a val ley up among the hills, w-iiicli the ruth less hand of man liad not yet despoiled, no trace of his work visible nave a healed scar on the side of some of the big sugar maples, showing where he had tapped the tree for its sweet. There were big basswoods, elms and maples whose tops shut out the sun a hundred fee* in the air, some ancipnt •and decaying relics lying prone. on the earth, victims of some summer wind storm, and moss covered, feeding "their more lucky kin. 1-fere was the im pressive silence of the woods, the etilm of the chancel of a great cathedral, be yond the reach and sound of the rush and riot of "an outside world, a silence broken only by the bark of a fox squir rel, the muffled drumbeat of the lord of the woods and the tinkle and bafoble of a little brook fretting down the glen. Here grew the most exquisite fvns aud mosses, an inch i-i depth, like the pile of a Wilton carpet. All too scon the spirit of greed and of progress, you will call it, while we call It savagery, will invade this lovely retreat, and the blows of the woodman's ax will sound like the tolling of the bell over depart ing souls. Then will come the strilu lent, rasping sound of the saw, avid these monarclis of the woods will be sacrificed to make plank for hogpens nnd washing machines, fork hautifea and tubs. Then the fire will got in £ts work, and, as with the end i&m 0 4m ItiSa-A i% of flu world, all that is left will be bui^ied up, and the hillside spring will dry and the little brook cease to run ajkt sing, and some hairy, club fisted £u man will turn it into a hog pasture or scar the once beauty spot to rrflgo pumpkins, tobacco or taters. And thien just think of any man made in the ita age of God doing such a dirty piece-of business! But he'll.do it nnd keep do ing it as. long as he can make a dollar by doing it. r/»£ CLEARING A FARM 1ST WASHINGTON AVe all know in a general way that there grows big timber out in Oregotf and Washington, but only recently, have -we realized what effort and ex pense are connccted with the clearing of an acre of this heavily timbered land to fit it for a crop. Fancy havW a sttynp eight or nine feet across in th5 land which you wish (o convert into at garden patch, with roots thirty feet it* length and three feet in diameter where they leave the stump, and this wood, both stump and roots, so sodden with water all tlie time that it is almost im« Itosslble to burn it! Fancy twenty such «tumps on an acre, often more^ and costing $20 each to remove.them,-, and you will understand why clearer land in that country ought to Tiring high price. 1