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Stz-dtS -..jltmjM&s "i 1 W~!r •wr 4r •r54Ci- xi? ?&<r in rf IMR& s*'^ ^*2? 5 ft 4', )V •&'' W" *k& Imk '.• & I %&> *.i 1 j& $ J- H&* ex ,r#y !f *$« •c IRA IN THE CITY. I wonder what they're doin' these de lightful days out there, Where the good old crispy feelln' comes a-stealtn' through the air can almost taste the cider that la pourin' from the mill, Seems as though I hear the rustle in the corn shocks on the hill. ["fan seem to see the pun'klns gleamln' yellow on the ground, And the blossoms of the buckwheat with the bees a-buzzln' round. I wonder if the apples of the old tree by the gate Have been gathered yet? They always used to ripen rather late And, gee whiz, how good they tasted, and what lots of juice they had, And the smell that there was to 'em— that alone 'ud make you glad. Oh, I'd like to be out yonder, where the colts kick up and play, And the folks keep on belivln' that the Lord ain't fur away. wonder If they ever, as they're work in' on out there, Set to thinkln' of where I am—wonder if they ever care? Oh, I s'pose the old spring bubbles just as cool and just as clear As it use to 'fore I ever dreampt of com in' way up here, ^And the path down from the kitchen s'pose it's there the same to-day, And wore down as smooth and bare as though I'd never come away. wonder if they ever notice my initials where, Long ago, I cut 'em into all the stable doors out there? And I wonder when they see 'em if they ever think of me, And would like to see me back there where the wind's a-blowin' free. Where the hick'ry nuts come tumblin' with a rattle from the limb, Anl the Lord's still near the people and they still believe in Him? I s'pose the sumac's crimson and the ma ple's turnin' red, Just as though I'd never left there with big notions in my head, And the cows I'll bet go wadin' to the middle of the stream, 'And stand there, kind of solemn, and look fur away and dream. Not a thing has stopped out yonder just because I left one day, And if I'd go back the city'd never know I'd been away. —S. E. ICiser, in Chicago Record-Herald, SX5)®X2XS)S)®X5X5)®®®®®®®®)®CS®®®®(SXS)® The Wrong Woman. "By Winifred Graham. ®SXs3SS(sXs3®®®S]®(£XsXS)®®®t9®®®®®®SI 1 AM quite a young' girl, and a lady- librarian by profession. While traveling to various coun try houses, I have met with many strange adventures, though indexing musty old libraries sounds dry as dust to the casual ear. Being one of a large family, I revel in the relaxation of work, by which I escape "the trivial round, the common task," though often I pine for riches, ease, and chiffon. One bright sunny morning I met an old friend of my father's—Mr Jessop—who often recommends me to book-collecting friends. "My dear," he said, "I've a little job for you, if you like to take it on." My eyes glistened, for at the mo ment I was "out of work.!' "I have mentioned you to a delight ful old lady,'" he continued, "living in a beautiful country house. She is anxious to have her splendid li brary catalogued by a professional I warn you she is eccentric,-but in a very nice way—so good and kind to everybody, and especially fond of girls." I thanked him heartily, declaring I loved eccentric people. "Then I will ask her to write to you," he said. Sure enough, a few days later I re ceived a request to visit Stanley House. But the letter brought with it a sense of disappointment, for Mrs. Shepperton informed me she was go ing for a short tour abroad, so I could not see her. "I have a very nice housekeeper," she wrote, "who will look after your comfort. I hope you will make your self quite at home. The carriage shall meet you at the station." On my arrival I was greeted with a pleasurable surprise. A lady in purple velvet, with a beautiful lace mantilla swathing her white hair, came across the hall to greet me. She had quaint side curls, and a be nign expression. One or two ex quisite jewels glittered in her laces. "My dear," she said, drawing me to the fire, "I never expected to have the pleasure of seeing you, but I have had great trouble with my ser ants the last day or two. My house keeper, upon whom I absolutely rely, has been called away to the bedside of a dying friend and, owing to an unfortunate disagreement amongst the domestics, I And myself very sliorthanded. I have therefore put off my visit until to-morrow, when my housekeeper returns. I felt it was not quite safe to leave this es tablishment with no one to keep order." I tried to be very sympathetic, for the old lady attracted me. She looked at me very admiringly, now and again dropping a compli ment that sent the blood tingling to irw cheeks. She told me I talked well, declar ing it was a pity I had not seen more of the world. I said that I was one of a large family, and therefore un able to travel. She drew from ,me involuntarily many of my hopes and aspirations. "We will have our coffee," she said, "in 'the Venetian chamber. You are sure to lose your way at first in this house, it is so queerly built. There are grange passages in the wall*.. which would lend themselves very conveniently to burglars. They are well supplied with small doors in the panels of the rooms. See," she said, drawing a curtain aside as we entered the Venetian chamber, "here is a little door you would hardly ob serve, even were the curtain absent. The passage behind runs the whole length of the house. It is dark and dusty, and I should not advise *you to venture on a voyage of discovery." "It certainly looks very ghostly," I said, as we sat on a low sofa, com fortably sipping our coffee. The old lady's eyes rested upon me benignly. "I feel so happy to-night," she-mur mured. "You have made me realize how lonely my life is." She took my hand and stroked it softly. I half expected to hear her purr. Then came one of the most startling moments of my life. Mrs. Shepperton, whom that very day I had seen only for the first time, made an amazing proposition. She told me I reminded her very for cibly of a daughter she had lost long years ago. She expressed an intense d'esire for my company, and begged me to go abroad with her on the fol lowing morning. "It won't be for very long," she de clared soothingly. "And I will buy you some lovely Parisian clothes if your wardrobe is insufficient. I will write to your mother to-morrow, and explain what I have dope. I am sure she could not possibly mind, especial ly as we were introduced by a mu tual friend." Somehow I still felt under a spell, and the delightful suggestion proved too tempting. I have always been impressionable and somewhat hot headed, I fear. Assuring myself that my family could have no objection, I joyfully consented to accompany Mrs. Shepperton on her pleasure trip. As we talked over the many de lights of foreign travel, I suddenly started forward, grasping her elbow. "What is the matter, child?" she asked. "I saw a figure," I gasped, "hiding in that curtain opposite. I could have declared the form of a man stood behind the velvet. The out linev of his shoulder showed quite dis tinctly." Mrs. Shepperton started up, trem bling. "It must have been your fancy," she cried, begging me to look behind the curtain but, of course, this was useless. Had anyone been there, he would have retired through the panel door into the long, dark passage be yond. I tried to forget what I had seen, telling myself it was only imagina tion 'byt the memory haunted me as I went up to bed. "Never mind," I thought. "To morrow you will be far away from this lonely btiilding." I dreampt of the pleasure of wealth and of the many luxuries I was about to enjoy. The following morning Mrs. Shep perton appeared somewhat depressed at breakfast. "I want you, if you will, my dear," she said, in her soft, cooing voice, "to do an errand for me on the way to the station. I shall drive in a closed carriage, but you must go round by the town in the victoria, which will be at the door in a few minutes. I need a little spare money for our traveling expenses. Please go to the bank and change this check for £100, which you must bring me in notes." I took the check, and drove away cheerfully, glad to feel I could do her a service. The drive was a very hilly one, and the little town nestled at the foot of a steep descent. As the car riage proceeded at a slow pace, a well-dressed man sprang forward, apparently from the hedge, and took off his hat to me. 1 I felt myself turning very red, for I hardly knew what to do, since he was a total stranger. Before I had time to think, he jumped into the carriage, and seated himself beside me. I nervously grasped the pres cious check in my hand. "What do you want?" I asked sternly, quivering with indignation at his impertinent action. "Excuse me, miss," he said, "but I want that check for £100 which you are going to cash at the bank." "You may want it," I said, con vinced this was a case of highway robbery, "but you won't get it!" "Don't be alarmed," he answered, reading my thoughts. "After all, you are quite right not to give it up. I suppose you are unaware that you are being made the victim of a very cruel trick? I saw you arrive yes tei'day, and judged by your looks you were not an accomplice, though the accomplices are many of the Mrs. Shepperton, you know. One has played her false, and a very large scheme is about to end in failure. The old lady who received you so affectionately last evening, and tempted you to accept her invitation of foreign travel, was, strange to re late, the housekeeper, who should have received you according to Mrs. Shepperton's orders. This intriguing woman has effected a most startling disguise, not only annexing her mis tress' clothes, but making her ap pearance absolutely similar. Having cleared the house of every honest servant, she had arranged to leave England under Mrs. Shepperton's name, taking with her a large quan tity of jewelry and plate of immense value. Should suspicion have fallen upon her, you were to have been the scape goat. For that reason she sent you to change the check, this morning, which, of course, has been forgedj with many others lately paid. I was aiding in the house last night,- and heard your conversation in the Vene tian chamber. Had you gone away with her, it is terrible td think of the position in which you might have been placed." As I listened to his words, my blood froze in my veins. "How can I know whether yoiT are telling me the truth?" I asked, still suspicious of the stranger. "You cannot tell," he replied, "un til you are given proofs. We are go ing to drive to the police-station, where you will find the real Mrs. Shepperton, who has been recalled to the neighborhood, and warned of the intrigue." I began to tremble violently, but still kept fast hold on the check, de termined to give it to no one but the real Mrs. Shepperton herself. "I don't wonder you believed In that evil woman," continued the stranger. "She has completely de ceived her confiding old- mistress. Presently wien we bring them face to face with each other on the rail way station, there will be little or no doubt in Mrs. Shepperton's mind." .1 could hardly bear the suspense till the carriage drew up in front of the police station, and I followed the tall man through the gateway. In a little room I espied a palty trembling figure. An old lady in costly array, with exquisite furs and and dainty laces, eyed me curiously as I entered. For a moment I stared at her open-mouthed—the white sidej curls, the arched eyebrows, were all so like the Mrs. Shepperton with whom I had conversed not an hour ago. Until I had arrived, she had still hoped there might be some mistake but my amazement at seeing her proved the truth of the detective's story. "Why do you look at me so strange ly?" she asked. "Perhaps you have seen somebody like me?" She' placed her shaking hand on my arm, and I noticed a tear rolling down her withered cheek. I spread out the "check on the table before her, and she peered at it curiously through her glasses. In as few words as possible I explained whet had occurred. "Then it is true?" she gasped, in a broken voice. "And I would have trusted her with my life!" She staggered to the door. "We have to go to the railroad station," she said. "It will be an aw ful moment indeed." I turned to the inspector pleading ly- "May Mrs. Shepperton not return to Stanley House without seeing that wicked woman again?" I begged. "Surely you and your men can ar rest this imposter without giving this poor lady the pain of an en counter?' She threw me a grateful glance as I made the suggestion. "Of course, if Mrs. Shepperton pre fers it," said the inspector, some what aggrieved that.she should wish to forgo the excitement of catching the thief red-handed. "I am very grateful to you," said the tremulous old voice, as, seizing our reprieve, we were drawn slowly back up the long, steep hill. "I feel you have had a great disappoint ment but, remember, at the same time you have been mercifully de livered from very grave things." I bowed my head at the solemn words. My heart was too full at that moment to speak. A restful sensation come over me as we turned in at the old stone gateway. It was to be duty, not pleasure, and I began to think per haps duty was the better after all.— London Answers. AN EASY PROBLEM. Something That Should Have Been Perfectly Plain to Anybody Who Could Figure. Hubbard Lawton, familiarly known as "Hub," was by common consent the most shiftless man in Pineville. He had been known to "saw and split" in a desultory way for a few of the summer visitors, but beyond that Hub and labor were strangers, relates Ycsuth's Companion, The most easy-going woman in the town was Lucy Harmon, who did a little dressmaking when the fit seized her -but as a rule she sat tranquilly on her front doorstep in summer, and in her front window during spring, autumn and winter, doing nothing whatever, with great contentment of mind and body. Hub required financial aid from his relatives every month, and it was un derstood that Lucy received contri butions from her neighbors without any false pride. When it was an nounced by Hub that he and Lucy were soon to be married, a plain spoken neighbor asked a pointed question. "How are you and Lucy-expecting to live?" she inquired. "Who's going to earn your bread and butter, Hub? Lucy's folks nor her neighbor's won't feel any call to feed her when she's married to an able-bodied man." "Why," said Hub, reproachfully, "I don't know what folks are thinking of! Half a dozen people have asked me that same question. I can al most support myself, and Lucy can almost support herself, and I should think anybody with a «Si madam I three of Stories. •fc' m-feft?,' i»s head for Ag gers could see that when we jine forces there'll be something left over for a rainy day." wmm 8&gBwm More Material Benefit ?m$§M "I am sorry, doctor, you were not able to attend the supper last night it would have done you good to be there." "It has already done me good, have just prescribed fop the participants.—Stray ^1 DURABLE WIRE FENCE. Bloat Important Point In Construct ing One la the Secure Anchoring of the Poata. The vital point in wire fence con struction is the manner in which the ends ere secured. Especially is this true of the stronger kind of fences, where several strands of heavy cable or elastic wires are used. It is de sirable that the material used in an choring the ends used should be placed in such a manner as to secure as great a degree of permanence as the fence itself. The most common method is to attach a stay wire to the ground line of the end post, run ning to near top of second post, with a brace of timber from top of end post to bottom of second, or to a point near the ground. The objection to this bracing is that the stay wire and brace each assist the post to lift -the end post out of the ground. Another fault is that the whole strain of the fence is placed on the end post at the ground line, the point first weakened by decay. These ob jections are obviated in the method which I have used with perfect sat isfaction for several years. I use an end post 7% feet, of good size, say six to eight inches in diameter sec ond post also a pretty good one, sev en feet long. A trench is dug direct ly in front of the position of end posts to a depth of 2y2 feet, and across the line of the draft. End post is notched around the lower end to receive four strands of No. 8 "or 9 galvanized wire, of length sufficient to reach and attach securely to the second post one-third way down from top, to be twisted into a cable late/ on. Then set end post in a place dug in the wall of the trench to receive it, which should be six inches deeper than the trench. A narrow cut should be made to al low the stay wire to pass in a direc4, line, as shown in cut (Fig. 1). Place "dead man" (any rough piece of souud timber will answer a log 12 inches in diameter split in quarters is satisfactory) in trench on top of stay wire and fill in with solid earth or stones, being careful to pack snug ly insert horizontal brace and twist stay wire by a short durable stick put through the center. This can bi made fast to the fence after-at is put on. My way for leaving space for a gate in a line of fence is to set two good, large posts each side, nine feet apart use a horizontal brace one third way down from top and a stay of four heavy wires running from that point on second post to "dead man" buried in center of gateway. Over each end of "dead man" drive a pair of strong stakes in such a wav that they cross and form a crotch, in which lay a pi^ee of timber and' bind it to the center of the "dea.l man" with a piece of wire. Then fill in and tamp earth and stones well around the "dead man," and if prop erly done your fence will not come loose or gate drawn away from its fastenings. In setting line posts I scatter the dirt (removed with a post-hole spade) and pack small stones around the post with an iron bar. The frost never pulls them om. —Don B. Husted, in Ohio Farmer. Irrigation hy Pumping. In our western country and even in Eome localities in the central west considerable irrigation has been done by means of pumps. Some declare that irrigation by means of pumps can never amount to much. But we know that this practice is as old as civilization, and this mode of irriga tion has been employed in some parts of the world successfully for centu ries. There are many places in our western states where from five to 15 acres of land are irrigated by pumps driven by windmills. Doubtless the future will see the further utilization of the pump, whether driven by wind or by other force.—Farmers' Review. The Special Crop Idea. The need of adapting special crops to special localities and of determin ing the fitness of the soil for their successful culture is becoming daily more and more evident. For instance the soil and climatic conditions in the vicinity of Dorr, Allegan county, in southwestern Michigan, are such that 400 acres of Jand are devoted to the raising of cucumbers for pickling pur poses. Fifty cents, a bushel is the pre vailing price this season. The stor age rooms are of sufficient capacity to store 50,000 bushels. Hjf '$i1 tjra &%v 4'i **ir *y AW SUCCESS IN FARMING. It Depends on the Way the Bnninf la Conducted and flow Small Things Are Done. Success in farming depends HANDY SEED on If one is to make a success at farm ing he must pay strict attention to all these.odd jobs. He cannot be an agent for everything that comes along, go with a threshing machine all the fall, or draw all the milk to the creamery for his neighbors. If practicable for best results, he must have his plowing done in\he fall for spring crops never keep two hired men when only one is needed. A great many farmers keep one hired man the year round, when his serv ices five or six months would be all that is necessary. The manner lh which the implements are used on some farms bring a great loss to the owner. They should be care fully sheltered at all times when not in use', and given a coat of paint when required. Keep posted on the markets of the future and sell ac cordingly. In growing crops aim to raise what the markets demand. All markets are not alike and a close observation of the demands of the customer, as well as the seasons when certain kinds of farm produce is preferred will give the farmer an advantage which will enable him to secure bet ter prices. Remember, it is the buyer who is to be satisfied. If in market ing poultry the consumer prefers fowls with yellow legs, it is to the producer's interest to grow such. The best breed for his purpose is that which he finds will give the buyer the greatest satisfaction, arid what is true of poultry also is true of a great many other products of the farm. V. M. Couch, in Farmers' Voice. BOX FOR SEED CORN. Excellent Contrivance for Those Who Save the Seed While Gath ering the Year's Crop. 41 CORN BOX. outside edge of the box around under the box near each end and up above tlie inside edge sufficient to form hooks then put long bolts through to keep from spreading. If made right it will bear a man's weight. I have used the same box over 15 years. I prefer to save seed corn while gath ering, as I then see and handle every ear.—E. L. Christy in Epitomist. PERTINENT FARM NOTES. Over 50 different commercial pro ducts are manufactured from corn. The United States raises four-fifths of the world's corn, over 2,000,000,000 bushels annually. There is a wide divergence of opin-. ion as to the outcome of the United States' rice crop for 1902. Estimates of yield range from 3,000,000 to 4^000, 000 sacks. Where a locality becomes addicted to the habit of growing one crop year after year, the average soil deterio rates unless fertilizers are applied, if the crop is sold from the farm. A well arrangea system of rotation contributes greatly to maintaining the uniform fertility of the soil, and is also one of the readiest means by which to get rid of insect pests. Illinois, for the last 25 years, has averaged over a quarter of a billion bushels of corn annually. An increase of one bushel of corn to the acre means to Illinois farmers $4,000,000. The results of co-operative fertiliz er tests on meadows conducted in England in 1900, showed that the most profitable proportions of commercial fertilizers were 150 pounds of nitrate of soda, 200 pounds of superphosphate and 300 pounds of kanit per acre. long Horns Passing Away. The famous Texas steer, which so much has been history, and which cent times has figured ment of the great becoming extinct. and its companion, the from Texas, written in until quite re in the develop southwest, is fast The Texas steer the cowboy, both "passing," and IJfreg are a .fcrrftjle torm»«t, folks, and tosJme older the way the business is conducted, ana on how well the small things are done. One of the principal causes ot failure in farming is going on in are will be soon only in known fiction and hj«tory. The longhorns" onward are vanishing before movement of the bloode* stock of the north and east. Ger» onimo, a famous long-homed animal when 36 years old, had a pair of horns measuring nine and viS" feet tip to tip.—Bura] ones Doan's Ointment never fails permanent cure. At any dn^ st"^a The most amiable people am .v least wp,und the self-love of othe^05^ June Tint Batter Color mal™.» a market batter. a haphazard kind of way, paying no at tention to the small things and keep ing no accounts of the outgo or in come. The few shingles that are off the barn don't interfere any, only when it rains, and rainy days are the only times they have to do these odd jobs, being so busy other times with big jobs. There may be a weak place in the barn floor and some day an animal will step through. It's only a short piece of work to repair it and will be attended to some daj, but 1hat day never comes. makea top of Diligence is the mother of uood t, Cervantes. tor'ui No matter how long you W* cough if it hasn't already deveW?! consumption, Dr. Wood's Norwav l'v rup will cure it. The best self-hel» Rams Horn. '•-fr* 1 'a is helping nc ®s~ •ft}* So says Mrs. Josie Irwin, 325 So. College St., Nashvil Tenn., of Lydia E. Pinkham Vegetable Compound. Never in the history of '"Ms To save seed corn while gathering the corn I use a box 12 inches'wide, ten inches deep and 28 inches long, suspended from rear end gate of wagon box by strong hooks. To makS the hooks, take strap iron 1% inches wide and extend it from the. upper medicine the demand for one particular rcmet for female diseases equalled that tained by Lydia If. Pinkham Vegetable Compound, and n« during the lifetime of this wonderi medicine has the demand for it so great as it is to-day. From the Atlantic to the Pacifi and throughout the length and breads of this great continent come the gla tidings of woman's sufferings relieve by it, and thousands upon thousand of letters are pouring in from gratefi women saying that it will and pos tively does cure the worst forms female complaints. Mrs. Pinkham invites all men who are puzzled abon their health to write her at Lynn Mass., for advice. Such com spondence is seen by women onl and no charge is made. $3 & $3*52 SHOES W. L. uouglat shoes an the standard of the wallE W. JL Doulai Mad* and sold won men's Gow jysr Welt (Hud Sewed Process) skoes In Uiefiof •Ix nontki of 1903'tfcw aajr other nunnfacturul ilxi 8! BEWABD will be paid to anyone itlf can dlnprore thla state men. 11,1*8,829 ICtS&fttNM Best Imported and American leathers, Heylt Patent Calf. Enamel, Box Calf, Calf, Vlcl V. Abb 4 about Kid, Coroiii Volt, Hat, Kangaroo, Vast Color Eyelets usedt Cantion 1 Ik* tannine hsnW. X* DOUGLASS nrnma and nrlca stamped on bottonf Shoes by mail, 25c. extra. JUus. Catalog fro. W. L. DOUOLAS, BROCKTON, MASS. MAK BiV TMBr,»IAKM§r CF qsw-t SLU AHpcrrs Everything Ym Buy Tiara the amount Touean saye to trod inir with us regularly.. Send iSe in coin oi stamps for our U00-pwe catalogue, it ctntaiiu quotations on. everything you la life. Write TODAY. INBIKY WARD ft CO. unatmlldiw.M** HAMLiN S WIZARD OIL E A A E