El democrata del condado de Costilla. [volume], June 28, 1924, Image 2

About El democrata del condado de Costilla. [volume] (San Luis, Colo.) 1923-1939

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THE RED LOCK
CHAPTER Xll—Continued,
w:- —ls—
sitting-room door opened, and
the portly form of the housekeeper
appear** on the porch.
“There’s Mis’ Curry,” the girl cried.
Seizing her father’s arm and Inviting
the preacher with her eyes. “Break
fast’s ready, and our bouquet not half
finished.”
She was the life of the little group
that assembled a few minutes later In
the gloomy old dining-room, with tjhe
candles flickering over its bare walls
and waging a losing battle with the
shadows lurking in the corners. Only
for her, the scene and setting might
have been somber enough—the stark
walls, stiff old furniture, decorations
and ornamentation severely In keep
ing with the taste of a day long gone ;
the grim gray figure that presided at
the head of the table.
Banker Colin was a man out of
whom life had squeezed • most of the
finer sensibilities and coined them Into
gold. The dreams of boyhood, the ro
mance of youth, the glory of manhood
—gone —bargained away for a price.
81ttlng there at his gloomy breakfast
table, a disappointed, weary old man,
his soul cried out to rue the bargain;
to trade back with fate. But none
had learned the lesson better than he
that fate trades not back; that there
he was doomed to sit, a hopeless
mourner over the dead ashes of the
might-have-been.
The forenoon he spent in the small
room, busy with his papers, or In
meeting people who came to pay him
money—or borrow It.
In the afternoon he tried to take a
nap, but so long had his mind been set
to Its dally grind that It now ran on
In spite of him—a sort of mental en
gine whose clutch could no longer be
released.
Best; a quiet nap—they were no
longer his. He had sold them—part
of the price he had paid for —what?—
the privilege to pocket Interest money;
to collect rents; to write his check.
Cheated again. The devil never loses
In a trade.
It would be a hopeless task to trace
his thoughts as he thrashed about over
the bed and fidgeted the hours away.
His business; the farms; his squan
dered years all passed In review. And
what was left? To sit by a musty win
dow and pile up wealth —for somebody
else to spend. He couldn’t spend It
himself. He didn’t know how. He had
tolled so hard to make It that he had
never learned how to spend It —an In
finitely finer thing to know.
Sleep—he was never wider awake
ta lila life. He floundered off the bed
at last, less rested than when he lay
down, and stormed out to the porch—
only to stand drumming a restless
tattoo upon a post with his long bony
fingers.
The voices of Texie and the preach
er were borne to him from the rustic
■eat under the giant maple at Whis
pering spring. He mildly wondered at
It; reflected that the genial day had
probably for once lured the young
man from his studies, and sauntered
back to his easy chair In the sitting
room.
As he sat there, with the pulse and
purr of the wonderful May duy borne
In. through the open door, his mind
groping buck over the distant past, a
memory held him In far-flung retro
spection. Minutes long it held him;
until It smoothed the lines on his face
and softened his hard old eyes.
He rose from the chair at last;
paced back and forth across the
floor a time or two; went Into the
■mall west room to his sufe. unlocked
tt; with a noticeable effort swung the
heavy door open; fumbled Inside and
drew out a large envelope of stout
manlla paper; unsealed; fumbled
deeper and brought out a small locket
of gold; closed the safe, without lock
ing It, and went back to his easy chair.
A long time he sat, with his elbow
propped up on the chair-arm, his chin
In his palm; finally with fingers that
trembled, he pressed In the catch of
the locket. It sprang open. There
were two pictures Inside—a woman
«nd a man. But the face of the wom
an was not the face over the mantel
In the sitting room; it was the face
pf the woman beneath the draped
flag In Ihe cabin under the crimson
rambler—whar It bad been in her girl
hood. And the face of the man in the
locket waa not the upstanding soldier
above the sword end spurs. Id the uni l
form of a colonel of Mounted Itangers;
It was the face of Simon Colin—what
It had been In the days of Ills young
manhood.
The old man gazed et the beautiful,
highborn fnce of the woman In the
locket; again and again laid It to his
grim old lips, held It cloae against Ills
hreaM—suddenly, with a gasp,
snapped the locket shut.
A mighty spasm of pain had gripped
Ills aide. He clutched It with his
hands; fought for breath. When It
waa ever and he waa able to breathe
again, Ida lips were blue. amTclammy
sweat stood heavy on hla craggy brow.
Still clutching hla aide, be opened
the locket, with Its secret, trying nol
to see the beautiful face, lest It turn
him from tils purpose; took out both
pictures; struck a match, set them
alight amt watched them burn to
ashes;
Aa he sat staring, gradually be
seamed to grew aware of the envelope
tying la bit lap. Ha picked It up and
giaad at It absently, as If hla mind
mm «Mft wMh tbs dead ashes ot the
'* A Tale of theFlatwoods
Br DAVID ANDERSON
Author of “The Blue Moon"
Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrill Co.
past—the past with Its disappoint
ments, Its misunderstandings, Its
tragedy.
In a bold hand that wavered “slight
ly—unmistakably the hand of an old
man—the big envelope was addressed,
curiously enough, to Jack Warhope,
with the legend—" Not to be opened
until ills twenty-first birthday."
After a moment the old man fum
bled some legal-looking papers out of
the envelope; read them through with
great care; replaced them; sealed the
envelope and put It In his pocket. Then
he walked to the safe; dropped the
empty locket behind some papers at
the very back of It; closed the door;
locked It and strayed aimlessly out to
the porch again.
The shadows of the fine old trees in
the yurd were creeping well eastward.
The preacher, still a truant from his
studies, was with Texle at the spring.
Just over the brink of the decline
where Jhe yard dipped to the park
llke orchard, he could see them—the
girl on the rustle seat, the tall form
of the young minister lounging against
a fork of the huge maple.
The drone of their voices carried up
to the lonesome old man, at a loss how
to spend the hours of his enforced
Idleness, and the splintered ruins of
what had once been a smile for a mo
ment chased the weariness from his
craggy old battlement of a face. He
dragged a chair to a sunny spot of
the porch and sat down.
The girl, hearing the scrape of the
chair, sprang up.
“Father!” she cried. “He’s up.”
Springing over the gnarled, exposed
roots of the great maple, she hurried
up the yard, half laughing back over
her shoulder at the preacher’s minc
ing steps as he followed.
She flew to the porch, and In 4 140-
ment her arms were around the weary
gray figure In the chair.
“F’rglve me, father —I didn’t know
y’u was up ’r I’d ’a’ come sooner.”
“Aw, that’s all right," he drawled.
“Can’t expect young folks t’ waste
the’r time on old ones.”
“No, no I Not waste.” She smoothed
his hair. “I’m so sorry I frgot—your
good day at home, too.”
The old man patted her face and re
assured her. In a voice that the people
The Old Man Gazed at the Beautiful,
Highborn Face of the Woman 1 In
the Locket.
who borrowed bis money had never
heard.
"W’y, child, I got up only a little
bit ago, an' thought I'd Jlst set out on
the porch a while.' It'* kinds—lone
some in the house."
''And do y’u feel better after y'ur
nnp?" the girl asked, glowingly happy
at his endearments—endearments that
had been all too rare.
"Oceana, 1 ’ was ills answer, with a
grimace at the Idea of the nnp—a
grimace that lie suppressed Just in
time to keep her from seeing. “Good
us new. I be'n wonderin' why • y'u
never tuck Mt. Ilopklna hossback
rldtn'. Y’u ain’t even showed 'lm y'pr
new saddle boss, have y’u?"
“Brownie? F'r a wonder, I haln’t.
But this la the Drat time he’s ever
be’n here, except nt night—and lie's
traveled s’ much and knows a’ much
that I didn’t 'low he’d care about'
bosses. We’ve Jlst be’n talking about
—Ken—’’
The old banker bent hla head and
fumbled with a loosened screw of the
clmlr-artn. The girl gazed out serosa
the wide bottoms to the river. The
preacher took out hla handkerchief;
nervously brushed away a speck of
dust from his coat sleeve; put It back.
"Brownie,” the girl repeated after a
time, her eyas turning back (ran the
river to the piously pensive face of
the preucher, "would y’u care t' see
’er?”
“It would give me the greatest pleas
ure,” was his answer, In the studied
and faultless though somewhat stilted
diction of the pertiH].
“I conld talk y'u t’ death about 'er.' (
.*3 should die happy,” he anawered.
The girl waa so artless and un
spoiled that th* flattery, trim as It
waV* ifnlf pleased native
cheerfulness, subdued for_ a moment
by thoughts of her hapless brother,
heightened ~ ftgjUn Jn her eyes. She
threw her arm about her father,
dragged him up out of the cbalr and
led the way to the bam.
Brownie, a -beautiful dark sorrel,
with u single small patch of white In
her forehead, hearing the girl’s voice,
came trotting up out of the pasture
lot —the same through which Jack had
trailed the unknown pn>;w.ler the night
before. gelding,
bright hay, with one white hind foot,
followed her almosf ur to the gate,
where he stood back and half Jealous
ly watched the girl caress his mate.
“Come, Rex,” the gif! called, reach
ing out her hand and coaxing the tall
bay. But the hprse kept his distance.
It was only after the two men had
drawn back a few steps that he came
up to the gate and put his nose agulnst
her face. '
“Do you ride, Mr; Hopkins?" she
called over her shoulder.
“Not especially well” he answered,
“though X do Like a good horse. You
ride, of courso?”
“Everybody rides In the Flatwoods
—you must learn.”
“W’y, yes,” chimed In the old bank*
er, “there’s Rex Jlst sp’Uin’ fr work,
now that I don’t ride any more sence
these blasted falnty spells got t’ corn
in’. Tiler's nothin’ t’ hender y’u from
takln’ a ride every day—l reckon
We’ve still got my saddle an’ things,
ain’t-we,-daughter7”
“Saddle and bridle and all,” she An
swered. “And it will be such a pleas
ure,’’ she went on, taming to the
young preacher, “t’ show y’u around
over our beautiful Flatwoods.”
“With aur Impatient
to go the possible,”
the preacher exclaimed effusively,
“this you will.”
The girl gianced at her father.
“Why not?” he nodded.
“I don’t like to leave —you.”
The eld fnan tossed up his hand and
laughed—a raspy sort of laugh—all
that the years had left him.
The girl turned bock to the preacher.
“W’y, yes—lf you wish,” she said—
“only you must promise not t’ run
away, from me; Ilex Is ever s’ much
faster than Brownie.”
The preacher turned to look again
at the tall bay, standing a few feet
back from the gate, where he had
withdrawn step by step as the minis
ter advanced.
“He certainly appears to possess
great speed.”
‘‘Speed l” the old banker repeated, a
nota In hla' voice common to the throat
of every man in the Flatwoods whan
speaking of his liorse or dog, “next t*
Jack’s Grayloci at the homestead yon
der, he’s the fastest In the Flat
woods.” •
“Graylock Warhope” the tired
eyes pinched together thoughtfully—
“a remarkable young man.”
“Scarce as hen’s teeth, his breed,”
the old man returned warmly. Tm
doubtin’ if ther’s anybody along the
Wabash that knows the woods like he
does, unless it might be ol’ Nick Wlf
fles. I’ve alw’ys be’n glad he tuck to
’em the way ’e did. and I’ve encour
aged ’lm., Ther’s nothin’ like the
woods t’ make a man of a feller.”
“Some pr’fessonj came up her font
down the river t’ study what thej
called ‘Native Flora’ on the homestead
lust know, ther’s two thou
sand acres of It, most of It layln’ Jlst
as the Indians left It, and he keep!
coaxin’ me not t’ ’low an ax laid to a
single sound tree. There’ll be a
tune In that oak and walnut some day.
Jack, he’d be’n wrltln’ to’ these
pr’fessors, and they’d be’n sendin’ ’lm
books—anyhow, they come up and
tramped around fr nigh a week.
“One day one of ’em was talkin’ f
me, and he said Jack knowed more
about- the woods than all tlie rest-of
’em put together. Well, that’s him,
every time. I never did know ’im t’
try anything but what he got It down
about as fine as the next one.”
The old banker glanced up at the
aun slipping down the west and turned
to Ills daughter:
“Wen, If y'lfre’gofn’, y’u better ha
startin'.”
Long' years of'adtlve business life
Had taught Banker Colin the value of
promptness and decision—had so
gronnd these trait*- Into his nature
that they' bad. come 4o function auto
matically.
talking as volubly shout the rela
tlve merits of Ilex and Brownie as If
he were an agent trying to sell them,
and rubbing ills bony hands In delight
at having his restless mind set once
more to a definite task, he led the
way to the lot and turned the horaes
Into the barn.
The saddle and bridle were some
what stiffened from disuse when he
tried them on Rex, but he had them
Umbered up end came leading out the
horse almost as soon as Texie had
Brownie ready,
(TO BB CONTINUBD.)
Carrier Pigeons.
Carrier pigeons normally fly at the
rate of about thirty to thirty-six miles
■*n hour, hut when "homing" they can
reach spaed of plxty. miles an hour
hr more.
Rubber Balls Flatten.
j Rubber balls dropped to the ground
flatten almost Into. hemisphere at
the moment of Impact, but do U so
quickly the eye cannot sat k.
THE COSTIT-M COUNTY DEMOCRAT.
DAIRY
HEALTH IS MENACED
BY DIRT IN MILK
The cook lq as, cleun as the kitchen
towel, and tlie dairyman Is us clean as
the dirtiest thing l)is milk touches, Is
the opinion of Ben F. Eldredge, dairy
specialist of the extension service of
the Utah Agricultural college. Unless
everything, from the barn, cow and
milker to the brush used on the pails,
Is perfectly cleun, the milk Is likely to
become contaminated with harmful,
bacteria of filth. One- sour rag used
In washing a bucket will make on en
tire milking dangerous. There Is no
higher art than the production of
wholesome human food Mr. Eldredge
believes, and he declares that If deal
ers who supply even a few families
•vlth milk fully realized the responsi
bility they beur toward the health of
their patrons, they would redouble
even their greatest care.
The best way to produce clean milk
Is to keep dirt out of It, Mr. Eldredge
says. No ajnount of straining or clari
fying can ever purify milk once Infect
ed with dirt or germs. This fact Is
particularly In eyldence In the milk
obtained from the'slngle cow who sup-.
plies a few neighborhood families. The
milk cannot be pasteurized, and too
often a tell-tale residue Is a common
thing In the bottom of the bottle or
bucket.
For preventing milk from ever be
coming dirty, sunjight and steam are
the best possible cleansers. Genni
and harmful bacteria can live only a
little and cannot multiply In the
dry sunshine.., Vessels properly scnld
ed with steam can never Infect milk.
A clean dairy barn, dry be<ldlng, a
clean, healthy cow. a . clean, healthy
milker and sterilized utensils are what
every producer of milk owes to hit
family and the community.
fowa College Outlines
Dairying Fundamentals
Following' an analysis of the work
of cow testing associations In lowa,
dairy experts at lowa state college
emphasize the fallowing points ns de
serving of consideration as a guide tc
Increased profits from the dairy cow:
1. The production of feeds best suit
ed to dairying, especially alfalfa hay.
2. The elimination of the scrub or
grnde sire. '
3. The use of pore bred dairy sires
from good producing ancestry.
4. •The, weeding out of unprofitable
cows through cow testing associations.
fi. Rational feeding.
ft. Giving the cows the attention
that their Importance demand*.
7. Regularity if tunKlng and feed
ing.
8. Providing n succulent fee<s
throughout the year.
. 0. Breeding cows to freshen in the
fall of the year except when one le
retailing milk.
TO. Supplementing poor pastures In
late summer with either summer si
lage or soiling crops.
Phosphorus Is Required
in Ration of Dairy Cow
When 4he forage fed to cattle, sheep
und horses consists of crops grown
acid soils or Is of the non-legurtie type,
the lime-carrying mnterlnls should he
fed at the rate of three to four
pounds to 100 pounds of grnln. Even
when legumes like alfalfa, clover and
soybeans are fed the addition of llme
contnlnlng minerals will do no harm
and may do a great deal of good.
The feeding of wheat bmn and mid
dlings provides phosphorus which is
very necessary In the ration of a dHlry
cow. While It la true ttiht sodium
phosphate added to tRe ration of a
dairy cow while sh? was dry Increased
the milk flow In the following period,
further experiments are deemed ad
visable to prove thut phosphnte feed
ing enn be generally practiced under
diverse feeding Hysteiqs with profit.
Dairy Notes
*+*********♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦+++++++
For the dairy ty»rd gpy bean hay la
the best annuiil hay crop that cun be
grown and it makes a very acceptable
substitute for clover, or. alfalfa when
these bays are not nt hand.
»* “ '
Oat nnd pen hay w v eil cured makes
very deslruble foofl for. dairy cows or
for sheep. It Is also Satisfactory as
horse feed, though ru'ther soft for
horses that are required to do hard
work.
• • •
Cows receiving all the alfalfa they
care to consume are f getting enough
protein to' permit them .to do good
work. On good quality ( ulfalfa huy,
cows have produced more * than 800
pounds of fat In ft 1 year. ■
• r*r, ,• . .
Every cow . owiier, i®., Indebted to
those enterprising men who have
worked hard to broaden the market
for dairy products.'
a • -*
Corn sllngc ond alfalfa .hay are the
beat roughages for dairy cattle, while
corn fodder anil timothy hoy tiuve
proved the poorest.
• • •
For the dolryugn who has little or
no permanent pasture, Sudan grass
may well be uifcd'M *«’"VkMors crop*
Immediately following the oat pasture.
FARM
STOCK
ASK HELP ON BEST
FEEDING OF SWINE
In response to requests of farmers
for lufdrmation on rations for hogs,
the specialist In swine at the New
York college of agriculture at Itlmca
has prepared the following sugges
tions :
For brood sows, he recommends one
part of hominy, cornmeal or ground
barley, one part of ground oats, one
part of bran. 5 per cent of chopped
ulfalfa and 5 per cent of fish meal or
tankage. For the fish meal or tunk
age, skimmllk may he substituted at
the rate of two pounds for each pound
of grain.
For growing pigs, this formula has
been found good: One part of hom
iny, cornmeal or ground hurley, one
part of finely ground oats, one part of
middlings, 5 per cent of chopped al
falfa, 10 per cent of fish meal or tank
age; for the latter may be substituted
three pounds of skimmllk to each
pound of grain.
For feeding pigs on dry lot after
they reach around 125 pounds In
weight, two pounds of hominy, one
part of middlings, 5 per cent of
chopped alfulfa, 10 per cent of fish
meal or tankage may be used. For
the fish meal or tankage, three pounds
of skimmllk to each pound of grain
tnay be substituted.
In all the above rations, good pas
turage In season may replace the al
falfa.
Some farmers fail to realize that
minerals are Important In swine feed
ing. A good combination Is 10 pound!
of ground limestone, 10 pounds of salt,
20 pounds of charcoal and 10 pounds
of honemeal. These may be kept be
fore the pigs at all times.
Full wheat, dwarf-essex rape, red
and sweet clovers, and alfalfa all
make excellent pastures. About an
acre of pasture will he required for
every 12 J to 18 pigs.
Tuberculosis Is Serious
Menace to Farm Animals
Tuberculosis Is one of the most Im
portant contagious diseases of cattle,
swine and poultry.
The germs of the disease are passed
out of the cow’s body from the mouth
and nose, In the rnunure, and In the
milk.
The germs are taken Into the body
of healthy animals through the nose
In breathing and through the mouth
In food or water.
Tuberculosis Is Introduced Into the
herds und Hocks by purchase of dis
eased animals, or by feeding mixed
raw skimmllk or whey. Bad sanitary
conditions favor the spread of the dis
ease in the herd.
The use of milk from tuberculous
cattle causes a portion of tubercu'osis
In man.
The Introduction of the disease Into
the herd may be prevented by making
sure that the skimmllk und whey fed
has been properly pasteurized, and by
udding only tuberculin tested cows to
the herd.
Tuberculosis can be detected with a
high degree of accuracy by the use
of the tuberculin test, and can be con
trolled If the animals found by the
use of the tuberculin test are taken
from the herd and the barn and prem
ises properly cleansed and disinfected.
The state and federal governments
are expending large sums In helping
dulrymen rid their herds of this dis
ease. Any veterinarian or county
ugent cun give more information about
the work, say the anlmul husbabdry
men at the state college at Ithaca.
Mineral Supplements of
Big Importance to Hog 3
Studies made by the Ohio stutiun
show that all grain rations for grow
Ing swine require mineral supplements.
The breaking down of swine, und the
development of rickety symptoms,
lameness and paralysis have been
found to result from insufficient min
eral nutriment. Rations containing suf
ficient milk or tunkage or leguminous
roughage, however, do not require
.mineral supplements. When swine are
fed on "cereal rations there Is urgent
need for the element calcium, und pos
sible need, for phosphorus, In addition.
These may he efficiently supplied by a
half and half mixture of precipitated
calcium ■-carhonatA and precipitated
bone flour. Other leas efficient car
bonntes nnd phosphates are available.
Mixing the mineral nutrients with
the ration and allowing free access
to mineral supplements us well, will
tend to Incrense the development of
the skdleton with swine Intended foi
breeding purposes. When swine are
self-fed there is a tendency to pul ou
more fl#sli than skeleton to correspond,
unless- mineral supplements are . fed
mixed with the grain.
Provide Shade for Sheep,
Breeding ewes und lambs kepi, to re
plenish the farm flock need plenty of
shnde If they are to coine through the
hot summer months In the best shape.-
Every sheep should go Into Ihe sum
mer months with a light covering ol
wocl. June shearing of ewe lambs
that are to he kept for breeding pur
posep Is advisable. Fields-where sheep
are kept should have shade, either
artificial or natural. Artlfldafl Is prif
arable as movable shelters can be made
•t low cost.
Daddy's
Evenning
Fairy Tale
by MARY GRAHAM BONNER
A TREE KANGAROO*"*”
Far away in Australia IJved ,thj|
Tree Kangaroo and life to lilm “Wfta
very pleasant.
Ue was very handsome. Ills coat
wmrurthick, long for and The~ etJToi
of It was brownish-yellow. Ills waist
coat was of white though he wore a
front.belt of u pule yellow shade.
His *was black though ucrogs
his forehead he ;fiad a grayish band
and his en'rs were black'on the out
side and yellow IfislQe.
His legs were of a yellow shade
yellow stockings he would have said
he wore—and his paws were bluck.
Ills lull was us long as his body and
bis body was of good size.
Tlife children 4 of tlie family dressed
like The ladioa of the family tn grA'J-
Ish suits, which were simple and;
pretty. .*» »• .i- r,». .
“The daytime,” said tlie Tree Kan
garoo, “Is for sleeping and eating* e i.
“Sometimes ,t\ fly or many files will
disturb my sleep and I have to kill
them to have peace and rest.
“1 give them good hard blotosY too.
”Buf f’Hfrb to "sleep during the day
and-my "place for sleeping IsTdt
tfee r . < * .1 .q
“That Is why I am called a* Tree
Kangaroo. . Lum devoted ta trees.
home, Is In u tree. 1 ; wogld
not be happy In uny other klqd of a
Like to Sleep. ,
home. I like a nice mountain 'horfie
but a tree Is the place In which to
be cozy and* comfortable.
“At night, when it Is dark/ I go
out to travel and do ray marketing.
”1. can Jump from most enormous
heights so a tree home does not bother
Mk •
“People who live In 1101134*8 always
have' to go out of them fruin' ttfe
ground floor. * c *
“HOT 1 can Jump from my tree home
right-to the ground without any botlier
at all. r ....
•'’lf I lived In a house J wpuld not
bother to go downstairs to, ge({.out
of-doors.
“I would, simply Jump down from
n window. But people can’t jump as
I can.
“They wouldn’t make good TVed
Kangaroos.'
”1 dofit mean to hurt their feelings
when I say-this. I hope they de not
feel badly that they can’t do more
than they can.
“1 hope they do not spend tfielr
time saying:
'“Oh, -dear* if only, we were Tree
KanganHts,. how nice It would ,he.'
“I hopfe they dWn’f say things ; iueh
as thin for as long nq tjipy aye pe|>-
plt* 1 suppose they must make the best
Of It.’ ' -k
VBtjt how. thankful I am thnt'l.qji)
really and truly a Tree Kungaroo.
“frfJcmiHie they'*may' uny that l hs
long as I am a Tree Kangpyoq
good thing that 1 make' the'best orit.
“But I’m dot making rhe.best of It
for I love being what I am.
“And it Is so splendid tb have a tall
as Jon if as one’s body.
“That 14 such a help Ih brilniiVlng
when- -one 4s Jumping. Now .jiniybf
people epuld Jump from their upstairs
windoiVfc Mf’they <*ould
. -J|,
“But they haven’t tails, poor dears!
"(iih, T will not feef sorry tth
them as probably they ure happy
enough. They don’t know the Joy of
being a IPree Kangaroo and so they
don’t know what they miss.
“As long ns they are happy liTttitfr
own way I, shall not try to unset them.
“Butt rifiifi' fifake •fcvf 1 out
for ttt.erokiq.TlPd I . Vital,.,CP*
for It Js night time now and I’ve had
k im *ui4per : of
UM , , ~ BV4 JV(V)
Real Sailors?
BmSlf*lV>V - , 4al‘ flockWPftpa*><t)ufea
urp they? 0
Papa—Why. yes. iny two. They
have that big ship
the ucqan. and in about a week they
wilt’ ftfrtl hack. *• *«»
“Won. I- suppose they must- know
enmeshing About sailing, but
not really and truly sailors, are they?"
“IrtcJeed.-j they ar4 Why, flo you.,
think not?"'' '• . % *
“Why, I’ve been watching them ah
most ami | hirvent wen one 1
of them filteh his trousers stand on
one leg, and say ‘Yo-ho, my hearties IV
once.** * *
Perfectly Scareleś
“David,“ called the mother of
year-old, “I wish you’d stay nway from*
that yard. Thetdog might bite you."
“Why, tnother, dfoei lAlit
you?" lie asked, “Just tfhtcn—l walk
by. him 'fldMfccrtlr MWRtfcV ,*\;t f ju
HEADACHES GONE
TRIED NO MORE
Gtm Credit to Lydia E. PinUiani'i
Vegetable Compound. Hopes
Other WomeicWill Benefit by
Her Experience
Skowhagan^Ma.—“J-wis aick moet
of tho time ahd could not get around to
do my work without
being all tired out so
1 would have to lie
down. One day when
L was, reading the
pfcperlsaw the Lydia
E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound ad
vertisement and saw
djd for other
women, bo I thought
JL.WQuId try. it I
have taken three
bottles, and cannot
begin to tell you what it has already
done for me. Ido all mv work now
and keep up the whole day long without
1 lymg down. I have nomihre headaches
nor tired feelings. 1 hope every woman
Who takes the Vegb tabid Compound will
get as much benefit out of it as 1 have.’*
—Mrs. Percy W. Richardson, R.F.D.
No. 2, Skowhegan, Maine.
You have iust read how Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound helped Mrs.
Richardson. She gave it a trial after
«be saw what it-hfurdone for other wo
men. For nearly fifty years Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound has
been thus praised by women. For sale
by druggists everywhere.
Her. Mistake
“T’m half Inclined to kiss you.”
“How stupid of me; I thought you
were merely round shouldered.’’—
From the Frlvbl. ’**
The Same Old Backache!
ftoes every day bring the name old
backache? Do you drag along with
your back & dull, unceasing ache: Eve
ning find you Don’t
be discouraged! ’ Realize'U' is merely a
sign you haven’t jtaken good care of
yourself. This has probably strained
yoqr kidneys. Tak®, thipiw easier for
a* while and help your Kidheys with
Doan’g Pills—a stimulant diuretic to
the kidneys. Doan's haVls helped thou
sands and should help you. Ask your
1 rieiyhb'of! ' •
A Colorado Cate
Third "st , 3
•\1
gave Doai?a tC Pllla a
short time they cured me. I have
never had kidney trouble since.”
DOAN’S PI L LS
taka. Qtugmntcad purely vag- I
atabto and absolutely harmlM*. ■
Hr j Itautekbr overcome* H
y j£'Z( dUonUnT
formula appear* on Hl|
Baby Loves. X^C
A Bath With
Cuticura*pg/>J-
Soap
i Bflffl IP* 1 «oTenS«we¥Tii«,
Utilizing Geysers
Many geysers of Icelund have bren
ilked for* Ifluntlfy purposes and soon
will he used to heut the city of Reyk
javik.
■ " - ' - "| -
When n blind inun marries he usual
ly gets his eyes opened.
-saULtim
Sure Relief
■uaggrth*
SBkluans
jjtoffl Hot water
Pj.S.HflB Relief
mmm
KOT —BOUffifri
KKH HAIR BALSAM
BBiMPMBma-auaßHßirrßUißfl
ML jMlUaty la tU
PAIFNTQ Bsis'iisiSraia!
WATfIOIJ B. COll'mA* rffi'i, Mi u r tu ,
RMilagts*. D.«.; DNw.Mma, Oflf*,*iaQ«lMy BalMu*.
4m9SMßBffm i 2£J&EftZ
um; ft to a«ut Collect. Atlanta wanted,
llth Sour, f N. Mlohlsan, Chicago
* W. N.