DAKOTA COUNTY HERALD: DAKOTA CITY, NEBRASKA.
Am
J?
i. i
ff.
P ,
'
i.
i
i
WiG LAPSE or
EJSoenvmwoFm
r ISABEL GORDON CURTIS
AuiKar j "The Woman jrorw WoJverrior5"
ILLUSTRATIONS ZLLSVOIOTlYOTJNCr-
COPYRIGHT, PH- DV F. G. PKOWE CO.
8YNOPSI8.
Knoeh Wentworth, newspaper man, and
Andrew Merry, actor, after the guests at
poker party have departed, play a final
hand the stakes of which Rive the win
ner absolute control over the future of
Ihe loser. Wentworth wins. They decide
to keep the matter secret. Wentworth's
alster, Dorcas, sees Merry depart and Is
Interested in her brother's story of the
actor.
CHAPTER III Continued.
Andrew pulled the soft hat over his
eyes and sprawled out on the rock
ledge
Dorcas began with a norvous laugh.
"It bounds like presumption, I know
so little of the world, only 1 have been
studying you"
"Am I worth tho trouble?" ho inter
rupted. "Worth tho trouble I I don't believe
you know yourself yet. ou have a
wonderful Imagination and such knowl
edge of human nature. You could write
a great play, many of them possibly.
You know men and women. You have
laid baro the souls of some of them
when you talked with me. After you
bring a being Into life, think how you
could make him live again on tho
stage!"
Dorcas Jumped to her feet. "An
drew Merry, go to workl Show them
what you can do, If for nothing elso
than to please mo and provo that I
haven't made a mistake."
"Mlse Dorcas, sit down."
The girl looked at her companion
curiously.
"Let me shake hands on a bargain,"
he laughed. "That's a foolish little
ceremony I used to go through with
mother when I was a boy. If I prom
ised faithfully I would do anything, I
shook hands on it,"
Dorcas held out her hand cordially.
Her clasp was magnetic.
"Sit down again and listen," he
begged. "For years aud years and
years I've had a play crystallizing in
my mind. It's all blocked out. Lot me
tell you about it."
Dorcas sat leaning, forward, her faco
between her hands, her eyes glowing
with Interest.
"My hero is cashier in a bank, a
young fellow of good family, Jovial,
happy-go-lucky, generous, democratic.
Ho has married tho bank president's
daughter, who is exactly hie opposite
cold blooded, haughty, selfish and fond
of luxury. Thero is a sweet, tonder
little daughter. Tho lovo between tho
father and the child is beautiful, Tho
man, trusting to luck to see him
through, steals for years, covering his
defalcations in the cleverest way. Ho
had to get money, for his wife denies
herself nothing. Tho father-in-law dis
covers the crime, exposes It to his
daughter, then drops dead. She gives
hor husband up to public Justice. His
trial comes off and ho Is sentenced, to
twenty years. The child is told thnj
she is fatherless. Tho wife takes her
father's fortune and goes West, When
the second act-opfcns sho has divorced
tho husband and married again. The
child Is a lovely, true-hearted woman.
She is engaged to the young mayor of
tho city, and preparations aro afoot for
the wedding, when she receives a let
ter from the ono man who remained
loyal to her father an old Janitor nt
tho bank. He tells hor tho story which
had boon hidden from her. Tho father,
penniless, broken down, hopeless, is
to leavo prison in a few weeks. She
confronts her mother, who donleB the
story, but later confesses. The girl
breaku her engagement, leaves home,
and goes East Tho old Janitor takes
her to llvo near tho prison until her
father Is released. Every day she
watches tho convicts at their lock
Btep tramp and sees hor father. Tho
closing of -that act, when sho meets
him leaving prison, can be tremendous
in human interest."
He turned to look at Dorcas.
"Go on," she said.
"The last act is laid in a New Eng
land village, among simple country
people. The girl and her father are
living on a little farm. Her lover
comes, having searched for hor every
where. She tells him the story. He
marries her and takes the father home
with them."
Merry paused. The aun had dropped
below the horiton and the western sky
glowed in red, gold and purple.
"When," cried Dorcas in a flush of
enthusiasm, "when -will you begin to
writer
"At once, tomorrow. I'll go away
somewhere; I can't do it here."
"Go to Enoch," she said. "He will
bo delighted. He has such faith in
"you and he loves you. Besides, you'll
have his sympathy, Poor Enoch, the
one ambition of his lite Is to be a
famous dramatist"
"No?" said Merry Incredulouely.
"Don't tell him you know it" I dls
covered It by accident I was tidying
his desk one day. I came on a pile of
manuscript Thore were dramas,
comedlea, tragedies, even comlo
operas. He has been writing that sort
of thing for years and years."
"Queer he never told me! What
were tbey llkq?"
"Don't think me disloyal, but tbey
are awfull Some day, when be gets a
great plot, ho thinks be will succeed.
He won't It was cruel to tell him so.
He's nothing but an expert newspaper
S6."
"Dear, good, generous old Enoch 1"
"Yow will never tell him never!"
-I wea'L" ald Mnrry.
They eat for a few minutes In
rtlesee. The flush of the sunset began
to fad from the sky. Seagulls wheeled
above thek heads.
"We imwt go home," said Andrew.
"Croaetat; thaae rocks In the dusk
would be parilevs,"
Dorcas raw ana followed him, clasp
lag hit vtatr4cfc haBd. When they
leaped Vw from the saa wait to the
baacfa, the r!(ak4: "Tbte a our
laat areolae am?"
"I imagine so. You go to Now
Haven next week, don't your'
Dorcas nodded.
"Think of mo working with all tho
courage and energy you have awak
ened. When the play Is written I will
bring It straight to you."
There was eager anticipation In her
eyes. "When you como I will ask a
favor. May I play the daughter of tho
convict?"
"You!" Andrew stopped and looked
down at her intently. "You you dear
child, you swoot gracious woman!"
Dorcas lifted her cool hands to her
blazing cheeks,
"Listen! You don't think I could do
It I could. I have loved Shakespeare
since I was a little girl. I know Juliet
and Desdemona and Rosalind, but I've
lived with Cordelia, I've lovod her. I've
seen Into her eoul. Your girl Is Cor
delia. I could play the part oven If
I have never been on the stage. De
sides I enn work; oh, you ought to see
how I can work when I have to!"
"It is not that," Androw protested.
"You could play Cordelia we'll call
the girl 'Cordelia' now as no ono I
know; It Is not that It Is mich a
hard life the one you would choo.se,
and It Is so different from anything
you know."
Dorcas epoko Impatiently. "Enoch
said that. If I Bhould go on the stage
I would be no different from what I
dm today."
"Let us go homo. Thoro's Mrs.
Hutchlns' supper horn."
They walked on in silence. That
evening Merry sat for half an hour
with an idlo pen in his hand. At labt
he pulled a sheet of paper toward him
and wrote in feverish hoc to:
Dear old Enoch Send mo $100 to
the Broadway today, pleaso. Don't
ask questions, don't try to find mo; I'll
turn up when I've finished some work.
Your slave,
MERRY.
CHAPTER IV.
The Play.
Enoch Wentworth sat before a table
littered with Bhoets of manuscript
when a knock sounded on the library
door.
"In a second!" ho cried. Then he
tried to gather tho pages together in
numerical order.
"All right," cried a cheerful volco.
"Lord, It's Merry!" whispered
Enoch. Ho swept tho Bhects of paper
Into a drawer of his desk, then he rose
and opened tho door. Merry stepped
into the room with a dancing light
hearted gaiety that Enoch had seen
him don with his stage garb. Still It
was accompanied by a dignity of man-
Andrew Began to Pace the Room Im
patiently. ner odd to the comedian, a dignity
which had self-respect behind It Went
worth put an arm about him affection
ately. "Have you come ln.to a fortune,
boy?" he Baked with a laugh.
"Bettor than that I'm on tho vergo
of making a fortune"
"Good!" Enoch pushod him into a
comfortable chair and stood looking
down at him. "Let's have the news,
boy."
"I will," answered Merry slowly.
"I'vo got to I want your advice and
help. I need it as I never needed it In
my life before. Only I'm riot going
to trot out a word of It until wo are
suro of a couplo of hours clear. I can't
stand a solitary interruption today."
Wentworth shut and locked the door,
then he opened a small cupboard.
"What'Il you have?" ho asked, lift
ing aown a couple of glasses.
"Nothing." Andrew pulled a large
onvelopo from his pocket and sat
down beside the Are. Wontworth faced
him with an expectant look upon bis
face,
"You never guessed, I suppose, that
I'm an incipient playwright?"
"Never I" Enoch's tone was am
phatlo. "WeH," Merry laughed hilariously,
"well, I am, I'm the coming dramatist"
"I take' off my hat to you, boy."
Enooh swept him a pantomime how.
"Walt a minute," The comedian's
face grew unusually resolute. "Walt
old man, you've got to take this seri
ously, or I won't tell you a blessed
word about it."
Merry rose and laid his hand oa
Enoch's shoulder with an imploring
gesture, "Dear old man, I want your
help and guidance. I'm such a blamed
unbusinesslike chump. If you hada't
v- u
been head and right hand and mother,
father and brother to mo for years, as
well ae tho truest friend a man over
had, I'd have been In tho gutter.
Enoch," Merry's faco fiushod, "If I win
out, It moans more to me than fame or
wealth It moans the happiness of a
lifetime"
"Andrew! A woman at last"
The actor nodded gravely. "Yea, a
woman at last"
"Not Drusllla?"
"Oh, curb your curiosity," ho
laughed lightly; "you can't have every
thing at once. Now I'm going to read."
Wentworth lit a cigar, leaned back
In a leather chair, and turned his eyes
steadfastly upon tho man opposlto
him. Merry was a singularly dramatic
reader. Across his face flashed each
human emotion as he put it into words.
Enoch forgot tho outer world when
Merry leaped into tho words with
which he had clothed a daughter's
greeting to her outcast father a
father disqualified, hopoless, timid,
stunned, dumb after tho long separa
tion from his fellows.
Wentworth's cigar went out and ho
forgot to light another. He sat in
utter silence, a silence which was half
critical, although at moments he was
deeply stirred, partly by surprise,
partly by unconscious emotion. He
breathed a half-stifled sigh. This task,
such a eplendid achievement, had cost
one man a month's labor! He remem
bered tho years of ardent toll he had
spont on what, as he realized sadly,
was poor. It was worse than poor it
was futile. Even Dorcas had sadly but
truthfully acknowledged Its impos
sibility. When Merry spoke the last word
and tho curtain fell, ho looked up with
triumph and Joy shining in his eyes.
Then ho waited in silence, as if for
ardent hands to clasp his own. It was
an actor's pause for tho thunder when
ho knows he has won his audience.
Enoch's Angora lay clasped together
on his knees, his eyes bent on the
glowing caves of the coal fire. As tho
actor spoke his volco had a chill, shiv
ering noto In It
"Say, old man, Isn't It good? Tell
mo don't you llko It?"
"Like it?" echoed Wentworth. HeJ
turned his uyes straight on Merry'B
questioning fnce. "Why, boy, It's mag
nificent You'll pull Broadway to its
feet with that Merry, you've dono a
tremendous piece of work. That will
live for it ought to live for years."
"Thanks, old man, thanks with all
my heart. You can't Imagine how
hard it was to wait for your verdict"
"It's wonderful," mused Wentworth,
"It's a corker!"
"Now, old man," Androw Jumped to
his feet and began to pace the room
Impatiently, "I want to rush it on the
stage quick! Quick, I say. Hecht
will take It, I know."
"I suppose you'll play the .convict?"
"Good God, what oleo could I play?"
Androw stopped suddenly and looked
down at Wentworth.
"You'll kill your reputation as a
comedian."
"Perhaps you'll bo interested In
knowing thnt I've thrown up my part
In 'Tho Left-over Bachelor.' No moro
doddoring idiots for me! Why, it will
bo easy sledding to get this on."
"Andrew, you're a steam engine."
"Did you think I was a steam
roller?"
"Well, It's waked you up. That's
dead certain. Who did It?"
"Tho woman I told you." Merry
turned asldo and stood with his back
to Enoch, running his eyes over a vol
ume ho had lifted from a bookshelf.
"Say, old man," suggested Went
worth, "leave that with me over night
You've given mo a lot to think about
I want to read it again when I'm
alone."
The clbaely written sheets fell re
luctantly from tho comedian's hand.
He fondled tho paper as If It were a
beloved child.
"You'll be careful of It, won't you,
Enoch?" ho said anxiously. "It's all I
have. My first draft waB a garbled,
dirty mees; I throw It away."
"Bless your soul, I'll bo careful.
When I'vo finished I'll put It In my
safe. I'll have It typewritten tomor
row' Merry laughed. "Good night ojd
pard; I'm grateful for your faith in
mo."
"Good night, boy." Enoch gripped
his hand. "I'm terribly glad to have
you make good. Your play Is wonder
ful." Merry went down tho stairs whis
tling. A few seconds later he turned
back. He put his bead in at tho door
and said In a melodramatic whisper:
"Rush the business, my lord, I'm owing
theo a hundred and much else. It shall
be paid with compound interest from
the first night's roturns." Then ho
laughed and shut the door.
''A hundred!" whlsporod Wentworth.
He dropped-into tho chair bosldo the
flro aud covered his face with his
hands. The room had grown dark and
NO REAL EFFORT EVER VAIN
Better to Strive for 8uccess, and Meet
Defeat, Than Mutely Accept tlfe
of Littleness.
Better the sorriest citizen thinking
he can take hold of life, and his faint
spark of free-will can burn holes
through tho thlckot than a worldtul
of orderly persons of regular habit
and contented mien. Rathor wilder
neas than that men should" find this
a locked world, where all the returns
aro in.
Better absurd mites, strutting over
largo landscapes, than such a flatnoas
of cheery slaves, taking orders from
tholr betters. Bettor a petty race
should strive vainly, than accept Its
own littleness, If it Is doomed to
futility, lot it at least live as if all
the roads to victory were open.
So when we face the push and
thrust of life In each generation, let us
be glad that youth is claiming its
right to live. Let the youth flourish
and prosper, advises Harper's Weekly,
It Is wiser to tear down the temples
than to accent defeat. Effort is finer
than resignation, and peril Is safer
It was bo silent that when a cinder fell
from tho grate it mado him start to his
feet He searched for a small brass
key on his ring, hurried Into tho
library, and unlocked a drawer in the
desk. Ho took a slip of paper from
a yollow envelopo and stood staring at
It for soveral minutes. His brows
wrinkled and a curiously startled ox
preaelon camo into his eyes. Ho drew
a long breath, put tho papor back in
tho envelopo, laid It In tho drawer, and
turned the key In tho lock. Ho walked
to a window, which looked down on
tho square, and stared at tho life of
the city, it was a habit of his. He
has solved many a knotty problem
with his eyes fixed unconsciously upon
tho buoy street
Tho thought-spell lengthened out
indefinitely, then ended abruptly. He
hurried to his den, lifted Andrew's
manuscript, and seated himself before
the desk. From a lower drawer ho
took a heap of paper, filled tho Ink
well almost to overflowing, and triod
several pens before he found one that
suited him. Then, switching on the
electricity under a groen-shaded bulb,
he began with steady laborlousness to
copy Merry's play. The clock struck
three before his task waB ended. He
gathered tho manuscript into two neat
piles. One ho placed In his safe, the
other he locked in tho drawer which
held tho bit of paper ho had studied so
intently.
Ho roturned to his chair beside the
ghost of a fire, laid his faco between
bis palms, and fought a battle botween
two antagonists, his conscience and
temptation. Ho felt as if his soul was
In shackles.
. CHAPTER V.
The Forfeit of the Bond.
Tho telephone In Enoqh Wentworth's
room rang Insistently. He had gone
to bed three hours before, and he
struggled to shake off sheer, stupid
drowsiness. Ho rushed to tho tele
phone. Its ring had become per
emptory. "Hullo," ho called briskly.
"Hullo, old chap," Merry answered
him gaily. "The top o' tho morning to
you."
"Good morning." Wentworth's alert
ncBB died In a second. Something
flashed back to his mind, something
unpleasant and an ugly frown corru
gated his brow.
"Grouchy this morning?" cried
Merry with a laugh. "Or say, did I
wake you from your beauty sleep?"
"You certainly did."
"Old man, I'm sorry, blamed sorry.
Some day I'll show you I'm grateful. I
couldn't sleep last night, I lay think
ing of something I can do for you
when my production begins to pay.
I'm going to drag you away from the
everlasting grind. We'll go to Switzer
land next summer and carry out your
dream. Wo'll sit on mountain tops,
crane our necks over tho edge of a
crevasse, and skid down a glacier."
"I'd rather go back t6 bed," growled
Wontworth.
"You lazy old duffor, you may go In
a second, only I want to talk to you
about tho luckiest sort of accident
Last night I ran across a fellow who's
rolling in money. He'e crazy to get In
on a theatrical venture. Wo can catch
him, I know. I want you to have a
big share, to manage the thing and
make all you can out of It"
"Did you tell him it was your
play?" Enoch's tone was brusque.
"No, I thought I'd break that gently.
He thinks now I'm a devil of an actor;
he might imagine I couldn't havo so
much versatility; that my play might
bo of the brand some actora turn out."
"Good," cried Enoch, warmly. "You
have moro sense than I gave you credit
for."
"Really? Now, old pal, go back to
bod. But tell mo first when I can see
you. I want a long talk with you."
"Make it four. I've a pile of work
to do before that time."
"All right, four o'clock. Good-by."
Wentworth hung up the recolvor and
passed a hand across his forehead; It
was cold and damp. Ho did not re
turn to bed, but drossed hurriedly,
pausing onco or twice to staro at him
self in the mirror. His face looked un
familiar. It seemed to have aged.
Thero were lines about tho clean
shaven mouth ho had nevor noticed
beforo.
At four o'clock Enoch sat In his
library. He was so absorbed that ho
did not hear a step In the hall. When
he lifted hie eyes Merry stood before
him. Wentworth stared for a second
beforo he took the outstretched hand.
Merry had changed. Ho looked
young, handsome and vivacious ho
was better groomed. A few stems of
Roman hyacinths sat Jauntily In his
buttonhole. His trlmness seemed odd
in contrast to the old whimsical care
lessness, as it he had already achieved
fame and was living up to it dressing
up to it. These wore the thoughts
than despair in routlno. And by that
high courage and fresh experiment,
thoy defeat confusion, and lift their
hoads above despair. So the world is
full of homes. Obecuro men deal man
fully with their stint of work. Count
less unknown women suffer and love.
Order gains on chaos. A will 1b at
work upon the welter.
Investigating Abroad.
Miss Sophlq Irene Loob, a member
of tho New York state commission to
examine into tho question of widows'
pensions and the housing of the poor,
has beon studying such questions in
Europe for the last few monthB. Sho
visited England, bcotlaud, Denmark,
Germany and Switzerland and will re
port to the legislature of New York
the result of her investigations. She
says she found the beat boarding out
system in Scotland, where leas than
ono per cent of poor children become
criminals. A widowed mother in Den-
luarn is not supported oy the poor
relief fund, but has an allowance that
onablea her to take care of her chil
dren. Prance has appropriated 10,
000,000 In allowances that the hose
may remain Intact
that flashed through Wentworth's mind
while Merry took his hands affection
ately betweon his own. Andrew wae
only a few years younger than Enoch,
but occasionally he fell Into fond, dem
onstrative ways which were boyish.
Wentworth drew his hand away sud
denly and pointed to tho low chair op
poslto. His friend sat down half per
ploxcd, half anxious.
"Say, old man, aren't you woll? You
look groggy."
"I'm well enough."
"You're worsting too hard, you al
ways did!"
Wentworth did not answer. His eyes
were studying a pattern in tho rug be
neath his feet
"Say, Enoch, you're going to tend to
tho wholo business, aren't you?"
The newspaper man lifted his eyes.
"Yes, I'm going to tend to tho whole
business. I'll make it the finest pro
duction that New York has seen in
years. 'Tho House of Eetorbrook' n
going to win money and fame."
"Good!" Merry Jumped up and
flung his arms around tho shoulders of
tho older man. .
"Sit down," said Enoch. "We're go
ing to talk business."
He rose, walked to his desk, and
emptied a drawerful of papers on the
table. Merry watched him with a puz
zled expression.
"You never gueescd, Andrew, that
your ambition was mine?" Enoch did
When He tifted His Eyes Merry
Stood Before Him.
not lift his eyes or pause for a reply
"For years and years and years I have
dreamed Just one dream, only one
that some day I might produce a great
play. Seo how I worked!" He swept
the manuscript into an untidy heap.
There were thousands of sheets. Ho
had written on papor like onion skin.
It looked like toil ono had a feeling
of years of toil after a glanco at tho
laboriously interlined and reconstruct
ed sentences. Wentworth crushed It
mercilessly Into loose hunches and be
gan to lay the pages by handfuls upon
the reviving fire. A little flame climbed
up and kindled them into a wavering
blaze.
"Here, here, Enoch, old fellow,"
cried Merry, "don't!" Thero was a
thrill of compassion In his voice. "Say,
don't this le a wicked thing to do."
Wentworth paid no heed to him. He
gathered tho sheetB together with
quiet deliberation, crushing them as
one would crush somo hated, despised
living thing, and burned them with
stolid satisfaction.
"That funeral's over," ho said ab
ruptly. "Now I'm In a mood for
business." He turned to his desk.
Merry's eyeB followed him. Thoy wore
dim with unspoken sympathy, but ho
knew tho man well enough not to put
It into words.
Wentworth pulled out his key-ring,
opened a drawer, and took the slip of
paper from the yellow envelope. He
stood staring at it for a moment. A
wavo of crimson swept across his face,
then his mouth Btralghtencd Into a
cruel, Inoxorablo lino. Merry's eyoB
were Btlll fixed on him. Cnoch did not
speak, but crossed the room with tho
paper In his band and laid it on tho
table beside Merry. Andrew's eyes
took it in with ono sweeping glance;
it was the bond he bad signed when
they jilayed that last hand of poker.
"Do you remember this?" askod
Wentworth abruptly.
"Of course. Say, old chap, what
has that to do with our business? Oh,
I know." He lifted his eyes with a
relieved glance. "Of course it's an
understood thing you're to run things,
and as for money, Lord, I don't caro
for money, Tako all you want of It.
It's fame my heart's set on; I've a
grand ambition and a thirst for great
ness as I told you but It runs In
only ono direction; to win a name as
a dramatist, a name that will llvo
when my capering days aro over. I
want a halo; not such an nureolo as
Shakespeare's," his eyes Bparkled and
a smile lighted his faco, "but a halo
I demand a halo. I'll bo satisfied with
nothing smaller than a cartwheel."
He rose and went prancing buoy
antly about the room on his toe tips,
humming a fantastic waltz from "Tho
King at Large." Wontworth sat with
a grim, brooding look in his eyes. An
drow stopped to stnre at him.
"Why bo mum, swoot Sirrah?" he
asked, blithely.
"Merry," Wentworth spoko In an ex
presBlonloss voice, "read that bond
through carefully. Read It aloud."
Tho actor picked up tho eheet of
paper and read It with dramatic ges
tured, bowing almost prostrate at each
pause.
To Enoch Wentworth.
I hereby pledge myself to you until
death to do your every bidding to
obay your every demand to the ex
tent of my phyalcal and mental ability
you to furnish me with support
ANDREW MERRY.
He dropped lightly upon his kaeea la
front of Wentworth when he finished,
"I await thine orders, most grave
and reverend seigneur." Then ho laid
hla flngera upon Wentworth's ana and
looked up with an expectant smile.
(TO BB CONTINUED.)
flomeTbum
TEtelpsT
URGES PLANTING OF TREES
Baltimore Newspaper Points Out How
Much They Add to Appear
ance of City.
Baltimore can well approve of tho
movement for moro city tree plant
ing, launched by tho Women's Civic
loague. There is no doubt othor
cities have paid more attention than
has this to the subject, but it Is one
in which all who are working for a
moro attractive as well as for a larger
and more prosperous city can, well
consider. While good care la taken of
the trees In city parkB and squares,
thoso along tho street curbs are sadly
neglected, allowed to die and thon
rarely replaced. Yet it is no great
task to make a tree grow along tho
sldowalk. A little careful trimming,
a loosening of tho earth at the roots
now and then, a watch for bugs and
borers, that's about all if tho troo bo
strong and healthy when It is put in
the ground. Of course, now and then
an accident will happen and tho troo
be unrooted or broken by a runaway
borso or a careless driver, but even
then it can be easily replaced and
whon young a box placed around It,
so as to shield it from harm.
Let us hope that this movement
will succeed. A thoroughfare with
handsome, healthy trees on either sldo
is a city beauty spot and a valuable
city asset Land la too valuable in a
metropolis to allow the creation and
maintenance of largo lawriB, except in
suburban districts, but there is plenty
of room for trees, even In streets on
which traffic is very heavy.
Arbor day, established to encourage
tree-planting, has amounted to llttlo
in Baltimore, outside of the school
house program, but now It can bo put
to practical use for civic betterment
and civic beauty. Plant a few now
and you will be surprised at the re
sult. Baltimore American.
CHILDREN AID GOOD WORK
Even the Smallest Show Enthusiasm
In the Effort to Keep National
Capital Attractive.
To turn the waste places of tho city,
tho vacant lots nnd unsightly lawns,
Into beautiful gardens filled with
blooming flowers and clinging vines
1b the object of the People's Gardens
of Washington, and In the report for
the past year, which has Just been pre
pared, what has been accomplished
along these lines is set forth. The
building up of recreation gardens for
the people of a neighborhood, tho beau
tiflcatlon of parkings and back yards
o( tho city and general stimulation
ol interest in landscape gardening
havo been gone Into with enthusiasm
by tho workers of tho association and
tholr labors havo shown surprising re
sults. One of the noticeable facts concern
ing the work is that a major portion
was dono during tho past year by lit
tle children. And It is in building up
tho gardening Inclinations of tho llttlo
ono that the elders aro becoming much
interested and lending a hand them
selves. The children, having acquired
a tnsto for gardening, are tho ones
who are to make tho capital beautiful
in tho years tp come. It will fall up
on them to enlarge the park spaces,
preserve tho trees and encourage the
planting of dooryard flowers and flow
ering shrubs. Tho children havo ta
ken up tho gardening Idea as they
would take up a new game. They
havo shown unusual thoroughness and
tho utmost Joy in their work, and even
better results are expected from tholr
efforts during the spring and summer
to come.
Good Plan for Small Town.
Villages and small towns in all parts
of the United States would do well to
follow the examplo of Willlamstown,
Mass. There the town council has
adopted a scheme proposed by Presi
dent Garfield of Williams college, and
providing that there shall be planted
annually along the roadside of the
town a number of trees that shall be
valuable for commercial as well as
ornamental purposes. President Gar
field, it seems, derived his Idea from
France, where tho plan has been car
ried out successfully and haa been
found to be decidedly worth while.
Conditions vary in different towns
and villages of course, and In some
a scheme of this sort might bo un
desirable or impracticable. These,
however, are tho exceptions, and for
a majority of our smaller communities
adoption of Dr. Garfield's plan would
be an excellent thing. Ono must
wait a long time, it Is true, before the
trees thus planted become valuable
commercially, and It may bo that tho
public fund would nover be swelled
very largely by income derived from
them. Yet it In Franco that lncomo is
found to bo sufficiently largo to tako
care of the town's most beautiful or
naments, its trees, and in nddltlon
leavo something over for other pur
poses, thero seems to be no good rea
son why the same thing Bhould not
be true In this country,
Boost Don't Knock.
Don't criticize the old town, unless
you can offer a remedy,
Words Are as Cheap aa Ever.
An English Economist announces
that a world-wldo decline In the prico
of commodities has begun, and that
probably It will be more pronounced
at the end of the year.
He Qot Them.
1 want damages," shouted tho
bruised and battered citizen who had
Just been beaten up by his athletic
rival. "I think," replied hla friend and
ad riser, after a critical Inspection,
'that If you look In the glass you'll
find you've sot 'em."
CANADA'S PLACE
AS A PRODUCER
Canada Is Getting a Great Many
Americans. ,
"Three young provinces, Manitoba,
Saskatchewan, and Alberta," sayB a
New York financial Journal, "havo al
ready mado Winnipeg ono of tho great
est primary wheat markets of tho
world. In 1904thoy raised 58,000,000
bushels of wheat Five years later
they produced 150,000,000 bushels. In
1913 the crop approximated 200,000,-'
000 bushels. At the present rate of
progress Canada must eoon pasa
France and India, and stand third in
tho lino of wheat producers. Ulti
mately it will dispute with Russia and
tho United States for tho first position.
Wheat has been tho pioneer of our
development Undoubtedly It will
provo the samo with Canada. In tho
last calendar year our trado with Can
ada amounted to 497 million dollars.
Only with two countries tho United
Kingdom and Germany is our trade
greater. No vivid imagination la
needed, to see what tho future devel
opment of Canada means to tho
people of tho United Stateo.
The influx of American settlors to
tho Canadian prairies is now In full
Bwing. Within the past fow days
over 80 of those arrived at Bassano
carrying with them effects and capital
to tho value of $100,000. Fifty settlers
from Oregon arrived in Alberta a few
days ago; whllo 15 families of settlers
from tho state of Colorado arrived at
Calgary on their Journey northwards.
Tho goods nnd personal effects of this
party filled 20 box cars. Of llvo stock
alone thoy had 175 horses, 16 cows
and 2,000 head of poultry. Anothor
class of settler has arrived at Peers,
110 miles west of Edmonton, where no
fewer than 200 German farmers have
taken up land. These aro from good
farming families and brought with
them a largo amount of capital.
Then In South Western Saskatche
wan, thero aro large numbers settling,
these from the United States predomi
nating, while in the northern and cen
tral portions of all these- provinces,
the settlement of new people Is going
on steadily. Early in April, Peter
Goertz arrived in Cardiff after a six
day Journey from McPherson, Kansas.
Mr. Goertz who had purchased land
hero was in charge of a party of 38.
people from tho same part of Kansas
and they came through with a special
train which included all their stock
and implements. Tho equipment was
all RockJsland cars, and was the first
full Immigrant train ever sent out by
that railroad. Tho farms purchased
by tho members of tho party aro
amongst the. best In the district
When tho Panama exposition opens
next year any of the three transcon
tinental lines In Canada will make
convenient means of transport for
thoso going to visit, nnd In doing;
so agricultural districts of Western
Canada can bo seen, and ocular dem
onstration given those who havo heard
but not before seen, of that which has
attracted bo many hundreds of thou
sands of American settlers. Adver
tisement The Inference.
"Are you a policeman?" asked one
paying guest of another at a charity
picnic dinner.
"No," said tho other. "Why do you
ask?"
"Merely, that I noticed," said the
first speaker, glancing at tho section
of fried chicken In tho other's fln
gerj, "that you are pulling a tough
Joint"
Wants to See Things.
"Poor old Jagbsby is off the water
wagon again."
"I can't help admiring his frankness,
though."
"He doesn't try to excuse himself?"
"No. He merely says ho prefers a
scenic route." Baltimore Sun.
The Button Doctor.
During tho short seven years of her
life, little Florence Louise had be
come duly impressed with tho preva
lence of specialists in tho medical pro
fession. One day, after returning from a visit
to a small playmate, she calmly an
nounced: "Rena ajvallowed & button."
"Are you worried about her?" sho
was asked.
"Oh, she will get along all right,"
Florence Louise complacently replied.
"They sent for a regular button doc
tor." Judge.
Limited Intentions.
"How do you propose to support
my daughter, sir?"
"I didn't propose to her to support
her at all. I only proposed to her to
marry me." Rehoboth Sunday Her
ald. Proving the Punch.
Skids You think his story has a
real punch to It?
Skittles Sure thing! You ought to
have seen the way it put mo to sleep.
Puck.
Disasters.
"My baldness dates from that ter
rible year."
"Oh, yes! 1870."
"What do you mean by 1870? I
speak of tho year I was married." Le
RIro (Paris).
A Success.
"Was the go to church movement a
success in your neighborhood?"
"Yes, indeed. Our church was aa
full as It Is when they aro serving:
something to eat" Detroit Free
Press.
Job Wanted.
Suo Brette Who
Mrs.
friend?
is your
Foot Lighte Oh, he's the manager
of a show.
"Well, I'm from Missouri; I wish
he'd show me." '
Aro There That Many?
Church I eeo that Milwaukee is
preparing to change over one hundred
atreet names.
Gotham Going to name the streets
after tho different establishments
which made the city famous, probably.
V'
1
1
r
wy
A
1