Newspaper Page Text
THE SEA COAST ECHO. 35-HO BUILDING BVTBT. LODI3, - - M T S3I3IIPPI. C’HAi, Q. MOREAU, Editor and Proprietor Long Distance Phone, No. 3. Babsoi Iptlon : fI.W Per Year, In Adranoe ' There are people who say that they never can enjoy a hot bath because the hot water always makes them faint. This trouble, according to Suburban Life, may be remedied by the simple experiment of placing a towel which has been wrung out in cold water on the head and retaining It there until the baOi la over. It is possible that cases of drown ing have occurred as a result of faint ness while In the bath, so that this precaution becomes advisable. • making candles fit. ’ When your candle is just a little too large to fit into your candlestick, don’t shave it down, for you are apt to shave away a little too much and be no better off than before. In stead, hold the candle end to a light ed match and when the wax has soft ened a little you will have no diffi culty in fitting it into its socket. Sometimes the candle is just a trifle too small and wabbles un gracefully when put into the stick. The melting process xvorks almost as well In this case, but it may be nec essary to borrow a little wax from the end of a discarded candle, melt It and pour It around the new one to help fill up the superfluous space. 4 THREE TIMELY HINTS. r Take a raw potato, cut In halves, rub the boots well with it, then rub the blacking well In; polish and the result will be so satisfying as to make it difficult to say whether the boots had not always been black. To remove marks made by machine stitching: Take a very hot flatiron, lay a wet cloth over it, holds marks made by stitching over It till thor oughly steamed, then press it with a hot Iron. This will thoroughly re move all marks. To turn out a cake from a tin with out breaking It, wrap it round with a damp cloth for a few moments. FOR REMOVING SPOTS. Tf you spill milk on your clothes wash out the spot at once with white soap and warm water. It candle or other grease falls upon them use French chalk or benzine, or lake the spot out with au iron and blotting paper. Tea stains can be removed with plain warm water, paint with turpen tine. Ink with salts of lemon, if the color of the frock will not run, other wise It Is best to let it severely alone. If you are so unfortunate as to get your gown mud-staine 1 be sure to wait until it Is entirely dry and then brush off with a whisk broom and sponge the marks until they disap pear. If the cloth is spotted with rain, Iron on the wrong side with a piece of old muslin between the cloth and the iron. . . -♦1 - ,•"* v- • Turkey Salad —Cut the cold turkey meat Into dice and mix it with twice the quantity of diced celery and one cupful of broken walnut meats. Mix all well together and moisten with a good boiled dressing. Serve in a nest of bleached lettuce. Frozen Pineapple—Two large rose pineapples, one quart of water, two pounds of sugar. Pare the pineap ples, cut out the eyes, cut open and remove cores. Grate the flesh, add the sugar and water. Stir until the sugar is dissolved, turn in the freezer and freeze. This will serve ten per sons, Cornmeal Puffs—Take one cup ol hot milk, one tablespoon of melted butter and a pinch of salt; mix well together and add half a cup of corn meal. Let the mixture cool while you beat two eggs; add . fourth ol a cup of sugar to the eggs and a fourth of a cup of flour in which two teaspoons of baking powder are mixed. Stir this all together thor oughly and then put it with the milk and cornmeal. When beaten smooth, pour into hot muffin tins and bake about tw r enty minutes. Ribbon Cake —One-quarter pound butter, two cups sugar added gradu ally, four yolks eggs beaten till thick and creamy, two teaspoons vanilla, one cup milk, two even teaspoons baking powder, three cups pastry flour sifted four times; add the flout and milk alternately, then add the stiffly beaten whites and mix thor* oughly. Now divide this into three equal parts and bake two of them light colored. The third part is the dark one. You will fix it like this: Add one tablespoon dry cinnamon, one cup floured currants, one-quar ter cup shredded citron, one ounce melted chocolate, mix w’ell and bake in third pan exactly like the othei two. Be sure they are well baked, then turn a light one out on an oiled paper and frost thick with icing; put on dark one and Ice, then the other white one. Cover the top one with oiled paper and place bottom of one of the pans on top with twe flat-irons inside. Press till the next day and remove irons and paper and frost it. Make soft icing this way: Two teaspoons lemon juice, white ol one egg, one cup confectioner's sugar. Beat all together till fine and smooth. It may take more sugar. Perfume For the United States. The United States is perhaps nbi 4 out aaafcames of as high qual - u/ -jred in France, •: State* ...‘.a ol . : T . A " KAISER APPRAISES HIMSELF. He It Optimistic, Progressive and Too Often Misunderstood. The German Kaiser’s opinion of himself is revealed in a statement made by the poet, Ganghofer, about a l:ngthy conversation he had with tis Majesty during the latter’s recent visit to Munich. Talking over Gang hofer’s writings, the Kaiser said that Iheir optimistic tone greatly pleased him, as he himself was a thorough op timist. Happen what might he would remain such to the end of his life. He described himself as filled with joy in his work. He added: “I want to go ahead. I will be hap py if my people only understand my purposes and support me.” The Kaiser complained of the dis trust which every hard worker meets with, quoting a sentence from Gang hofer’s ‘‘Silence in the Woods” to the effect that one should not mistrust an other without reason. Doing so wrongs the other and harms himself. The same rule, he said, applies to politics. The German people have a future, whatever may be said, and consequently the Kaiser is always hurt on hearing the words “empire weariness.” He works without w'ear- Iness and thinks he is making prog ress. The Kaiser next explained the rea son for his fondness for traveling. He said his work was fatiguing and he must refresh himself with frequent change of scene. Therefore he re garded criticism in this respect and his nickname of the “traveling emper or” as a good joke. He would not al low It to diminish his pleasure in see ing the world. He regretted that many Germans did not know 7 the beauty of their own country and said they ought to travel more, as to do so would tend to strengthen their love for their coun try. He regretted the complicated ar rangements for his journeys. He would prefer to go automob’.ling alone, returning refreshed. Such recreation was doubly needful to a man of Ills calling, who had to fight so many mis understandings, and all the more as a monarch is not allowed personal in dependence. He added: ‘•'When he succeeds in anything the world asks who advised him: when he fails it says he did not understand the matter. "When I am doing things that are regarded as harmless when done by other princes the people de mand the reasons. My only reply is that my acts are for the good of the German empire and the German peo ple.” The Kaiser consoled himself with the fact that he often found apprecia tion, especially daring his journeyings. What It Costs to Rebuild San Fran cisco. Major-General Adolphus W. Greely, who, by reason of his prolonged per sonal observations on the scene of the catastrophe, must be held to constitute the highest authority, is said to have expressed the conviction that San Francisco will bu entirely rebuilt and v. ill completely recover its former com merce and prosperity. How many years will be needed for the reconstruc tive process he does not pretend to say, because the labor conditions that may prevail hereafter cannot be pre licted. As it is, those conditions can bardly be termed encouraging, if it be .rue that exorbitant wages act as a de terrent to the investment of capital. It seems that, before April 18, there were 20,000 trade-union workmen em ployed in the city. During the last four months, how’ever, thousands of workmen have naturally been attract ed thither, and, according to the esti mate of the secretary of the Building Trades Councils, there are now more than 30,000 engaged in the rebuilding. Ordinarily the labor put into an edi fice costs about thirty-three percent, of the total construction charges. In San Francisco at this time, however, the average of wages for men of all crafts, including the unskilled toiler, is at least thirty percent higher than the rates which prevailed before the earthquake. In other words, workmen will receive about forty-three percent of the total cost of reconstruction, or, say. about $175,000,000, without reck oning the cost of clearing the debris from the burned district. As this pre liminary expenditure will amount to some $20,000,000 of which laborers, derrick-men, and teamsters will get more than three^fearths, the aggregate of the share of the cost of reconstruc tion accruing to labor will exceed $190,- 000,000. At present the thirty-odd thousand workmen employed upon the task receive in wage® SIOB,OOO a day, or almost $660,000 a week, even when they do not work overtime and on Sun days. —Harper’s Weekly. A Buggy Sixty Years Old. The buggy in which Joseph E. Brown, Georgia’s civil war governor, drove his bride, in 1848, from South Carolina to his home at Canton, Ga., has been donated to the citizens of Canton by Mrs. E. L. Connally, who had purchased the old vehicle for $lO. The Joseph E. Brown estate made a formal presentation to the town of Canton Friday of the old Brown homestead and four acres of ground, to be used as a park. At this time Mrs. Connally also gave the town the old buggy in which Governor Brown and his bride rode all the way from South Carolina, The vehicle is very valuable as a memento, and will be placed in the kitchen of tbo old fashioned country mansion, where it can be carefully preserved from the weather. The buggy, though almost sixy years old, has suffered but little from the at jacks of time, and is still sound and strong. It Is very unusual looking, ind has great tall wheels that rise high up along the sides. It was built In Atlanta. —Atlanta Constitution. Speech Costs $20,000. The French Chamber has recently ordered two Ministerial speeches to be placarded throughout the country. The cost of this will be $20,000 for each speech, whic£ will come out of the pockets of the taxpayers. Is the time well chosen for such an ex ||snse? —Le Petit Journal of Paris. Iplfa Paris cabs now bear the In . WL “English ppokcp.’ f • ****** New York City.—The close fitting little cap of the Dutch sort is one of the best liked head coverings for the smaller children and is always be coming, while it can be made from a variety of materials. Here are two that allow of almost every possible* variation. The two-piece cap can be made of taffeta, of velvet, of cloth or illk, while the one-piece cap is adapt ed to the thinner materials and is peculiarly desirable for lawn and other washable fabrics. When made from this or from thin silk it can be lined throughout and consequently be made as w r arm and snug as need be. As Illustrated the two-piece cap is made of white silk with the revers, In irue Dutch style, daintily embroid ered by hand while Its points are held py rosettes of ribbon and there is a Ittle frill of ribbon finishing the edge ff the cap; the one-piece model is jrtade of lawn with the revers of em broidery and the trimming of lawn .osettes and strings. The two-piece cap consists of the j C ad portion and the crown, which lire joined one to the other and can te finished with the revers or without is may be liked. The one-piece cap !s shirred to form the crown and Jiese shirrings can be draw r n up by neans of ribbons inserted in casings >r simply formed by gathers as liked. There is a seam at the centre back of Jie head portion which can be joined >r tied together at the edges, this lat ter plan being by far the better one when washable material is used, as [he cap can then be laid open quite smooth and flat and laundered with perfect ease. It also allows a choice >f a plain finish or the revers and the revers for either cape can be cut on the outlines illustrated. The quantity of material required for the medium size (one year) is, for either cap one-half yard of mate rial twenty-one or three-eighth yard thirty-six inches wide with ono and a half yards or ruffling. Royal Blue Hats. For fine hats royal blue, verdigris and Bordeaux are the very newest colors. The first is made up a good deal in velvet, with a sweeping brim, high crown, and floating ostrich plumes or marabout of the same color, fastened by a butterfly bow of silver ribbon. Verdigris is success fully mixed with a rich red purple. For Instance, a verdigris felt with an underbrim of rich purple velvet and handsome feathers af the same color flowing from the crown. Bordeaux is best used alone or toned with other reds, generally of lighter shades. Bead Embroidery. An original trimming is made of tiny round beads of all colors. These beads stitched close together—just as in the bead tapestry bags and purses—are used, not only as an em broidery on collars and coat fronts, but also in separate motifs. As this original decoration is rather compli cated work, and requires a great deal of artistic skill, it will not easily grQW cheap and commonplace. Flowers of Velvet and Silk. Huge flowers of tdlk and velvet are used on the bats, Nine-Gored Skl* r * The nine-gored skirt tha t Is made with inverted pleats is a n*ost satis factory one from every point of view. It provides sufficient fulness for grace and flare at the lower edge, .while tl is stitched fiat over the hips and is without bulk at that point. .A.gain, it requires only a small amount ol material where the gores can be cut in and out, and even where mate r ial must all be cut one way, leaves smu ciently large pieces to allow of cutr ting the suit or the gown from a com paratively small pattern. In this in stance the material is a novelty goods of wool with threads of silk and the trimming is bands of taffeta, but braid can be similarly applied. Bands of broadcloth are well liked on rough material or on velvet or velveteen and again the skirt can be finished with a stitched hem only. All sea sonable materials that are used fof walking skirts are appropriate. The skirt is cut in nine gores, these gores all being cut ■with below the stitchings that are laid in inverted pleats and pressed flat There also are inverted pleats at th centre back beneath which the clos ing is made invisibly. The quantity of material required for the medium size is thirteen and a quarter yards twenty-seven, six and a quarter yards forty-four or five and three-quarter yards fifty-two inched wide if material has figure or nap; seven and three-quarter yards twen- m, five and three-eighth yards or four yards fifty-twc inches wide if it has not, with nin yards of banding to trim as Ulus* trated. The Short Waist. The change in the position of ths waistline is such a radical one that it has approached slowly, in order that the eye should become gradually used to it; but juet as surely has it advanved steadily in popular favor until now the short waist threatens ; to become universal. Now that il has gained a footing it will probably remain through another season or at least start in with the early fall models, whatever may happen to 11 later. Festoon Necklaces in Favor. Festoon necklaces, which aVe “all the rage” in Paris, are equally high in favor oh this side of the water. The new necklaces are accepted as i welcome substitutes for Jeweled dog collars and ropes of pearls. They would be a boon to scraggy necks, admirers of the new jewelry say. 11 tbs beauty doctors really have let i any such necks. There is still a de ' -ree of ‘ enviable slenderness” extant to w hich the gracefully leopeij seek ; laces probably will appeal Dota there lire a little urchin, growing np about the farm. can scorn the honest pleasure or re sist the breezy charm Of a jolting drive with “father,** while the horses pick their way Over April’s chirping runlets or the au tumn’s binding clay? For the drive is to the “Corners,’* and the team draws up before That abode of life and color which its patrons call “the store.” In its depths are plow and harrow, while their pictures on the wall. Boldly done in green and scarlet, speak in eulogies of all. On the shelves are rainbow ginghams, woven utout far little boys, Clumsy boots for Sunday service and to swell the schoolroom’s noise. Shining tin. and loojis of harness—could a city snap hold more In its prim and ordered quarters than this bulging count! 7 store? Then the clients that-it gathers! Men of wisdom most profound— Captain Abel’s a hundred,” and has sailed the map around; Jolly, self-professea old loafer, drawling out a traveler’s tale While the despot df the post-bag shuffles calmly through the mul. Politics ana social matters, local news and weather-lone Occupy this humlo senate grouped about the country store. \Then, perhaps, tl ve boy grows weary while tne graybeards wag away, Aad his copper-tcd tormentors feel amiss T>THE “LINE-BACK’S” CALF./T; ’Sdm^hbssbhfbbbmhhbbshS Fleet as a scared fawn, the little x% and calf darted under Jerome's rlata tail fled into the bunch of cattle up on the parada grounds. The* guarding vaqueros raised a laugh at tEM discomfited cowboy; the red calf ha and twice eleuded him. The rodeo “boss” lifted the Cres cent-H branding-iron—the range mark of, Jerome’s employers—from the fire and toased it into the dust. He took ufc the “scissors” iron of tne Dry Creek’; oufefit and gazed at it reflectivejy. ’' ‘Well# whose calf is it?” he asked. “You two will have to settle it.” Now to tell the parentage of a huerfano, that the eyes of no man have seen until the round-up, will baffle even a- boss of the rodeo. Young Teddy Jerome was positive that the red calf belonged to a “line back” cow that had Mason’s Cres cent-H mark. IlernaJ, a truculent Mexican half-breed vfcquero from the Dry Creek ranch, swore that the red calf’s mother w r as a gavnt old “long horir” with the scissors brand on her flank. "Look!” shouted Jerome, angrily, drawing in his rope. “It knows its mother —It's ours!” The .disputed calf was dodging among the swaying cattle that the cowboys “4jeld on the parada space; It nudged close to the line-back — then was through like a streak of red to the,side of the Dry Creek cow. Bernal amj some of the riders laughed. Yoking Jerome was nettled, but not ahakeh'.in his belief. He was the only man - from his employers’ ranch at the roVeo, and felt the re sponsibility of getting every calf that was rightfully due him. Bernal had already secured one that Jerome thought wan his, but the wild moth ers had so nearly weaned their off spring by the endiof the season that doubt might' well’arise. "You and Bemal will have to set tle It,” repeated the rodeo boss. “Now cut out another calf from the bunch —Ifvely!” So the branding went on; the huer fanos, one by one, were cut out, roped, and dragged to the branding fire to be identified and marked with any on© of the dozen Irons that were hot in thd embers. Bernal and Jerome were apadlng the cowboys who rode about thue wild herd. Every few minutes It was augmented by other terror-stricken steers which the vaqueros were* beating out of the brushy* gulches leading down into the main capon where the rodeo was held. It was rough, dangerous work. Even leather “chape” and sombreros could not protect the riders from the thorny mesquit, nor could the surest footed pony guarantee them from broken bones on the steep hillsides. Since daytllght the rodeo hands had held a buiiph of tame valley cows on the parada grounds to serve as a buffer to the wild steers that charged down the capon. Young Jerome was behind these ca|tile, plying his quirt and yelling in flhe singsong fashion of the cattlemen $o stop the pressure. But from up the canon a shrill •*hy-a-hy-a” announced the arrival of another bunch of cattle driven out by the workers. Straight into the uneasy herd on the parada grounds charged two dozen fierce steers; the mass broke before the Impact, and the riders were swept away among frightened groups of cattle. Jerome flew over the rocky creek bed in purduft of a score that gained the brush before he could turn them. But one by one his trained cow-pony beaded the fugitives. He saw Bernal riding before hall a dozen of the cat tle, and when the American went to his aid, all but three had been turned back to the parada. But these three, charging wildly over a thorny ridge beyond the riders, happened to be the line-back cow with Mason’s mark on her flank, the old long-hornthat bore the scissors brand, and the fleet red yearling that had no all. Bernal turned in the saddle to laugh derisively at his younger rival. The Mexican was reputed the best man with a rope in Northern Arizona. “Your calf —ha!” he called. “Jer ome, who rope heem—he have heem, eh?” “No,” shouted Jerome, “it's Ma son’s calf! I’ll not gamble It with any man! Its mother is that line back. and you know It, too!” But the calf kept so impartially with the two gaunt, fierce mothers that one might well have reserved Judgment. They plunged over a brushy knoll, and Bernal, with a twist of his Spanish bit, turned his pony to cut across their path. The more suddenly crowded Jer ome off the narrow trail, so that his animal went floundering down a steep pitch of loose lava rocks on the hill side* and before he oonld gain the (Mgs fee three fleet ssftOo and fee THE COUNTRY STORE. this working-day. Wistfully he eyes the roadside, where the waiting horses stamp. Till the gift of father’s penny rube again Aladdin’s lamp, . For within one ancient show-case bristle, bright as precious ore. Yellow stick and crimson lozenge—quite the treasures of the store. What Is this? The years have hastened, and a man, grown stout and gray. Steps across the rounded threshold after many a homesick day. Tailored cloth in place of gingham, careful dip for mother's art Change the outward man’s appearance, but they cannot change his heart. To s hopeful beat it quickens as he pauses in the door-™ Scarcely has a feature altered in the well remembered store. Now he knows another reason, as he gazes up and down. Why they say God made the country while His children made the town. Quiet life has brought these neighbors to an age of placid grace, And a seaman, scarcdy younger, drones along in Abel’s place. In this Old Home W f eek the townsman, back to haunts be used to know. Wonders how be could have left them, since they grip his heart-strings so; And among the kindly faces and the quaint, piled stock of yore. He is still a wee farm-urchin, come with “father” to the store. —Jeannie Pendleton Ewing, in Youth’s Companion. reckless Mexican had disappeared In a little canon. Jerome was angry at his comrade. He was the youngest man at the rodeo, and his skill as a cattleman had twice been discredited by some unfortunate chance to-day. Bernal would have some sarcastic remark about his horsemanship now, when they rode into camp; he had crowded Jerome out of the chase purposely. The Creecent-H ride felt his repu tation was at stake; he could never yield the disputed ownership of the red calf before his fellows at the rodeo now. He clattered along in the duct whicih the Mexican had left in the arroyo. A hundred yards up the canon a riderless cow-pony dashed past Jer ome so fast that he barely recognized it as Bernal’s pinto. The American reined in to scan the rocky canon-bed in astonishment. Where was the 'dark-skinned vaquero with his won derful skill in riding and roping? A cowboy unhorsed on the range is like a fish out of water. Some evil had befallen Bernal. Jerome rode rapidly on. The ar royo opened out on a steep gravelly slope on one side, which ran down a hundred yards to the edge of a sheer precipice. Over this cliff It was a drop qf two hundred feet to the creek-bed, whence came the shouts of the men and the bawling of the calves on the parada grounds. The cowboy stared down this slope in surprise. The arroyo ended here; on one side the rocks barred the way, on the other was the sloping stretch to the edge of the cliff. Bernal was not to be seen. The cow with the Dry Creek brand suddenly clattered past Jerome, be ing turned from her flight by the unscalable rocks beyond. Then, half way down the slope, the cowboy saw the red calf flat on its side, roped about fts forefeet, helpless and stunned, with Bernal’s long riata trailing back in the soft lava rock and dust. Farther down was the line-back cow, making furious plunges on the very edge of the canon, grinding the rocks with her long horns. Jerome stared at her, a reassuring satisfaction rising even through his wonder, for the Crescent-H cow w r as in all the savage fury of a wild moth er protecting her offspring. No cat tleman would doubt for an instant to whom the red calf belonged, if he saw this frantic maternal solicitude. The seassors-brand cow had thought only of escape. But how came the calf to be roped and abandoned, and where was Bernal? Jerome sat ip his sweaty saddle on top of the terrace-like top of the hill, watching the line-back’s exhibition. A wild mother cow’s rage is to be approached with caution. A man might dismount, secure the riata, and then drag the calf up the slope, while the cow was raging along the edge of the cliff below; she could hardly charge up through the soft crumbling lava stuff In time to reach him. Ber nal must have gone over the cliff in some fashion; he was inevitably killed. If such was the case. The gaunt line-back cow was on her fore knees, scraping her horns in a clump of greasewood that grew on the edge of the cliff. She threw bits of froth over her sides at each sweep of her head; she bellowed at each futile plunge of her horns into the bush, and then Jerome saw what so excited her animosity. Bernal lay half over the chasm, clinging desperately to the grease wood roots and the crevices of the rocks, and the frantic mother was, at each plunge, tearing his support from the soil. Jerome whirled his pony on the narrow flat to come nearer to the spot. He shouted at the Mexican, whose head and shoulder he could just see. The rest of the man’s body actually appeared to hang over the precipice, Bernal heard, and turned his head feebly. "Loco! loco!" he cried. "Shoot heem!" Jerome’s six-shooter was In his hand at the suggestion. But he hesi tated. It was a long distance to use a revolver; he might hit Bernal, or, if he simply wounded the enraged animal, he would in jiowise assist her victim. And If a bullet struck her dead, she would plunge squarely upon the Mexican and carry him down to the rocky creek-bed two hun dred feet below. "Shoot! shoot!" shrieked Bernal, In a crevice of the precipice. It seemed as if the terrible horns were smashing his very knuckles as he clung to the greasewood. The animal almost lay in the hole she had torn out of the loose soil on the edge of the cliff. At any moment she o]ff&fc dlsWdffe the lest root of the "©r even get low etxougk to at A %•**! with a Wow on tb head. . But •TOC®'-dropped his plitol bade In it hoist® He would take no chances wilh tooting the cow. He spurred hn T*ietant pony over the flat, and was Paging down through the sliding ln*fl toward the edge of the cliff. \ Tti jed calf struggled feebly In the as Jerome's pony stumbled past*, ft. The rider had hoped to draw ol the mother, but she would not Uewatlced from bet victim. A man dhnounted will In stantly arouse tb|| savage instincts of the range cattle |x the Southwest i. the old line-back filmed bent upon revenging all the wmgs of her km upon the unfortunate kexlcan. Again he called upoa bis compan ion to shoot the animal. The grease wood was cracking; there was noth ing else to stay his faU. Hemalis body simply lay In a crotch of tne bush pulled down over the cliff. But Jerome spurred his snorting pony In a tolf-olrcle about the cow some yards away. Then he unloosed his data, measuring the distance*. The line-back’s head was so constant ly down in he* efforts to get at Mexican that joping was no easy feat. And In the struggle she night go cliff, dragging horse and rider aftev her, for there would he no time to escape if she fell. Already rternal seemed to be slip ping from hk x last clutch. So, gath ering in his brldle-roins, that he might urge the ,*tout little pony for ward If the throw' was good,-Jerome sent the heavy ria whirling down the slope. The mai'daneci cow had just bowed her neck fc' r A hnal sweep at the brush when the * °P O struck her. She threw back hex" .head, and the rawhide fell clear about I ’ er tightening with a jerk. dv rome s spurs sent the pony up the slo> ' 5n n desperate plunge, and the c.t\ ’- hoy was plying his quirt and yellln.g a3 the line grew taut. The line-back cow was nprearedh then she toppled and rolled, fighting! the line, almost to the edge of thsi cliff. It was a critical moment; once the brave little pony lost his feet in the loose, treacherous rock. Then ha was up, making plunge after plunge, until the heavy animal at the end of the line -was choked Into helplessness. The heaving body of the cow lay with her hind feet over the cliff in Bernal’s face, when Jerome at las 4 stopped the trained pony with a sin gle word. But the wise brute still! hung forward, keeping the line tight.. His rider dismounted, and ran to. help the Mexican. Bernal was weak enough as he staggered up the slope. He had roped the calf, but a broken cinch had given him a hard fall on the rocks, and he had scrambled up, to find himself dismounted and pur sued by the cow, maddened by the bawls of her offspring. • “I jumped behind the bush on the edge of the canon,” said Bernal, aa ho watched Jerome releasing the sub dued line-back and her calf. ‘‘Dat cow push dat bush clear over thQ' edge. She tear it to pieces! Dat calf yours all right. I wouldn’t have heem. 1 tell the rodeo boss I put the Crescent-H on heem myself?”— Youth’s Companion. Another Kind of Memory, In the Hewitt family it was Frank whose wonderful memory was held up as an example to the other chil dren, and Mabel who was alternately chided and pitied for her forgetful ness. Therefore a remark made by Great-Aunt Hewitt when she went to the city on one of her rare visits caused considerable surprise, "You ought to have trained that boy of yours better!" .syid Miss Hew itt, with considerable severity, ‘ Hmv_ in the world he can be so forgetful when there’s Mabel for an example I don’t see for the life of me!" "Mabel!" echoed the mother, in amazement. “Why, Mabel has the poorest memory in the family! If she has an errand to do, we have to write it down for her, and in school she can’t remember dates oi rules or anything without an awful struggle. But Frank—why, he never forgets , anything he’s once been told.’’ "Yes, he does," said Great-Aunt Hewitt, testily. "He forgot which was my chair in the sitting room ev ery day of the two months those chil dren were at my house, except when I managed to get it ahead of him. I’ve seen Mabel rout him out of it day after day, and he looked just as bewildered every time. "It’s all very well for the boy to have a head crammed with rules and dates and figures, but there’s another part of his memory that needs look ing to, and mighty hard work it’ll be to get it in good order, if I’m any judge."—Youth's Companion. Baffled But Determined. While Mr. Graham calmly and de liberately opened the morning paper and ran his eye over the headlines his wife looked volumes of reproach and impatience. "Can’t you tell me about that fire yesterday before you read everything else in the paper?" she asked at last. "Certainly, my dear, certainly,” said Mr. Graham, when she had re peated her question. "Er—here it is. " ‘At four-thirty yesterday after noon the great boiler at Stafford'i burst. The scene which followed baf fled all description.’ ” "Is that all It says?” demanded Mrs. Graham, as her husband’s eye seemed inclined to wander over the page. "No,” said Mr. Graham; "there are three full columns of descrip tion on this page, and it says ‘con tinued on page six.' " —Youth’s Com panion. Chopped Off His Finger. From Singapore comes the story of a Chinese cook who had ad dicted to gambling, but repented hii , evil ways. Finding that his debt* were accumulating day by day, he went into the kitchen and chopped off the forefinger of his left hand ai a self-punishment and warning tc himself that he must relinquish this evil habit of gambling In the future. He became unconscious through the pain, but was brought round a at*’ ' is n tov mtßrtMk i