A LITTLE IRISH 6IRL.
mr um« Bnekess."
JCBAPTKB XV-Ooktisced.
And ttu* bidden .the toll* it. A
AMI halting, woeful tale, but true in
every point. So true, indeed, that it
defeat* Itself. ft due* not lay clear
the fact that love for him and want of
tore for hi* rival had been the motive
power that worked her return.
There it a dead tileaoe when the
ha* finished her forlorn confession.
"So you were afraid lo go in I he
long run,” say* he, at last, hit voice
state
"Afraid! No — yes." Sbe began
boldly, but now breaks down. "Yes,
I was afraid."
"And"Why havo you told me Ibis?"
“Oh, mutt I answer that?" rays
■he, clotplcg her cold hands in front
of her. "Surely you know. Do you
think ] have not aeon enough to --do
you think 1 am witlfbut all fooling? I
spoke to set you free."
"So anxious for your own freedom?”
■a) a hr with a sneer. Ho flings the
now cold cigar over the balcony, away
into the dark beyond. "You nro in
genlousnett itself! to put it upon me
is a (rood move. Well, and so I am
to consider, our engagement at an
end? ’ i; ... > <
VUJ coarse, ’ say* sne v«ry bravely;
and m another moment, to her intense
discorn'itnre, finds that »li« is crying
bitterly, silently. desperately. So si
leirt is her crying Unit in the darkness
he is not aware of it. ; ill)
f»I think yon could havo* found\an
easier.not l<>say more graceful wav oat
of your difficulty,” says he conleinp
tuou-iy. A word to me would have
been enough. But I suppose I was
not worth even fed ntlieh trouble to the
gird Who had promised'to marry me?
You hn^-peotnleed, you. know," trying
to A-c her face And speaking with
mi\miloss persistency. “Jldyou im
agine.’1’1 bitterly, “that I-was so eoam- !
orod, itf “ybuthat I would merry you
agdn-t year will? Groat heavens,
whnt a world this is!" He turns sud
denly away from' her stricken figure,
•fegins to pace vehemently up und
the batceuy.
refjCorae'; in.” says he at last,
ly. "Onme in out of this cold,
lesifnnd worthless ns I th nk you
and
dow
he un
you t/
luoliig
tm'itt live. I
iff other
He had laid his hand on her arm. and
drawn her to the open casement. The
lights from within falling more dis
tinctly on her face wakens him to ihe
fact that the tears are running down
her cheeks.
•‘Yon are crying.” enys lie fiercely.
He lets her go. Crying for Eyre! He
onrbs his passion by a supreme effort,
end once again addressed her. His
voice now is under control, though
hit eyes still show the angry grief
that is consuming him.
••If you are orying for Eyre," savs
he. "that can soon be set right. To
|ud*» his msnner last night—”
• He bad betrayed himself! As If
struck, tbe girl starts back from him.
••You were there—vou saw—you
heard!” J
••I saw: I did not hear.’’.
••You knew, and let me speak!
Oh-”
••Why should I not be silent? I
waited—”
••Waited? for what? Cou'd
not.” wildly, ••have broken our
you
en
gagement Instead of leaving me to do
*T could not.11 If she had not been
so overpowered with.the fresh knowl
edge. that meant so muofi fresh shame
Ihe might havo read between tbe lines
Of hU short enswer.
••Oh, you should—you should!" cries
she, weeping opnlynow.
••Don't cry.” says Anketell, catching
hold of her. “don't! Am I not miser
able enough? It can all soon be sot
right-"
••Oh. Bevpr, never!”
••I tell you yes. You know his
address?"
••His?” •
••It can easily be discovered, how
ever.
•I don’t want to discover it,” says
she, covering her face with her
handa l \
“Tneo why are you.crying?” asks
he coldly. “Let us. now that the
truth li*s bare between us, cease from
deception. Tell me this,” his voice
growing almost frozen now, “when
you proposed to leave your home with
him, where were you going?"
"To his sister, Lady Shinning,"
fit inHu
••She had arranged to rece've you?’*
“Oh, no! he—he only (settled about
our going the morning before I-"'-left
When «ti it?'' wearily. • It seems a
long, long time ago.”
“1 dare say," grimly; “but a tele
gram Mill bring him to you in no
time. Well, and so you were to go to
Lid; Stanning, In the middle of the
night, without previous arrangement
s?; with her of any sort?”
“So he said."
“Did it ever occur to you that Lady
Stanning might not be exactly pi nsed
to receive an anknown young lady at
an hour approaching midnight?"
“I did not think—I—”
“And he," with growing wrath,
“this precious lover of yours, did he
never think either?. Did It never
dawn upon his vacant brain what a cut
de sac he was leading you into? l'ah!
Mr. Eyre may be the model of all vir
tue. all gen ins in vour eyes; in m ine he
>'' is merely a first-class idiot "
“Oh, y»s,” agreed she with a sob.
/ Auketell stopped as if struck. He
had expected vituperation, tears, sup
port of Eyre; but this—this open
agreement of the verdict against him.
is more fhan he bad prepared himself
to receive.
“But he was very kind, very.” says
Dulcie hurriedly. "He was very kind
to me when you—when every one was
against me. If—if 1 had liked him a
little bit more I should have been glad
f\ to go with him; bu—” elm Mfts hei
earnest, half-drowned eyes to his.
“But— P” questl ms he sternly.
“But~I didn't,”, re u ns she gently.
To disbell-ve her Would he to be r
fool. 'Anketell's face pa ed for a mo
m*nt an * then slowly, s owly a health
ivj- ier. h ippinr hus returns to it
“O 'me in," says he gently. He doe
. .-si, „;. ...
not wait for her to obey him this tire,
however. He draw* her with a st ong.
if tender arm. to the shelter of the
warm room within.
' ‘See hers, Dulcie,” say* ho. stand
ing before her and taking her hand!
gently In his own, “shall we begin all
orer again, you nod 1?"
••You and I?”
“Why not? Look! I aet you free— !
I release you,” pressing her bark from ,
him, not vary far, but sLi 1 far enough i
for him to know that Dulcin a’a lin
gers have tightened over hit. as if in
Fear or protest or both. Even such a
little distance has frightened her. Ob.
the glad thrill of dawning bops that
heats his veins as be feels the nervous
clnsp'ng of her bands!
“Yon are free. Uulc'e; I have no
smallest claim upon you. Y'ou can go
your «ay. and 1 mine. You,” un
steadily, “you quite understand that?”
•;Yes.” faintly.
“Well—now, he pauses aaif afraid
to go on. After all it is only an ex
| perimeat; who knows hotv it, will end?
; -Now—1 propose io you all over
i again. I beg. I entreat \ou to marry
me! You have jonr freedom; you can
keep mo or let me go as you will;
but,” passionately, “1 beseech you to
keep me.”
“Oh, no!" Her pretty bond is hang
ing down, her voice liai sunk into a
whisper. “Not after— after— that—?"
“After th-t—after everything.”
Miss McDermot raises her h-ad
slo« !y and looks at him. Reproach is
in her glance, j
•*\yi«y—why wore you not like this
fiulru dka
“How could I be?’* The reproach
is all juh his side now, uud, stroog
enough to dwarf hers. “Do you know
how-yon treated me? Wlitt icicle was
ever colder? Why. I was afraid to go
near you. Once 1 kissed you. Do you
remember It? \ do; and your Jook
after it Once only. This." stoopihg
and pr ssiug his dps lightly to t er
ceek, “is the second time'. And"
sadly, “I do notcall that kissing you
at all.” .
“And what do you call it?1! 4sks
she, a gleam of mischievous fim creep
ing Into her face in spite of her. ' Then
suddenly she flings it r arms around
ois neck. “Well, I'll kiss you," says
she, “because I love you, Ralph: I Jo
Indeed:” ,
“You are sure of it?” he asks live
minutes later.
“Quite, quite sure.”
“I wish you had been suro a little
earlier."
“I shouldn’t. The waiting has
made it ever so much surer."
“And you are happy, darling?”
“I never felt so happy.”
‘•Not even one regret?”
••Well,’’ nervously, “there is some
thing — something—" fidgeting awk
wardly with tho flower in his coat.
“Yes, something? Go on," says ha
anxiously, “Can it be about Eyre?”
“It’s—he seemed very uneasy about
it"
“So he very well might!” indig
nantly.
“Oh, but it was all for me."
. “All for himself, in my opinion.”
“You wrong him,” warmly;“you do,
indeed.”
To hear her stick up for Eyre is gall
und wormwood; but to shake the good
feeling established between them now
is not to be thought of for a moment
“Well, don't lei us quarrel about
him.” says he, and bis tone lightens
itself —his heart as heavy as lead.
“What was he uneasy ab ,ut in es
pecial?”
“About the—-the lies he told you.”
“He? who?" J
“Wliy, poor Andy, of course; whom
were you thinking of?”
“Of Eyre. Forgive me that”
“Nonsense.” says Miss MeDermot,
“Why.” airily, "i’ve forgotten him.
No, it was Andy. You know he told
you last night that he had brought me
to the station, and as 1 told you, I—”
“Is that aliP”
’ “Yes. It was a good deal. And
Andy is greatly put out about it. You
—you are suro you don’t tbink badly
of him?"
“I think.” enthusiastically, “very
highly of him.'’
“Oh, do you, really?”
“Whv. how else should I think oi
him? Was he not trying to hsln
you?”
“And you will say something lovely
to hra the very first thing in tbe morn
ing?” •
“No; I shall say something lovely tc
you then.”
“Oh, Ralph! . . Well, good
night . . . Good-night again . .
. Good-night, really, tills time!”,
TIIE END.
What a SKouave is. £—
A local character in war times was
interested in the formation of a local
militia company. lie and otheis dis
cussed it much, and public opinion
was about equally divided as to
whether they should have a straight
military company or zouaves.
One day a conversation occurred in
the village store.
••I'm in favor of zouaves. ” said our
friend.
• You be?”
••Sure.” |
"Well, what is a zouave, anyway?”
"Well a zouave, you see a zouave
is one of them fellers that wears a red j
suit and them soft boot* that buttons
up to his knees. He's kind of a dandy
feller, and in battlea as I understand
1 it you see. he mostly—well. I guess
1 generally—he gits dowu and lays on
his belly and deplores.”—Lewiston
■ JournuL.
t " r"~
When He l» Dangerous.
! Humorist's wife—You must not
i trouble your pa just now. dear; In his
; present mood he is not to be trilled
; with.
Humorist’s child—What is he doing,
f ma?
t Humorist’s wife—He is writing
. things to make people laugh_N. J.
_._ vd^r'
usict Nbv Was
Neighbor (on the street)—Good
j morning, my little dear. I never can
, | tell you and your sister apart Which
.! of the twins are you?"
j Little Dear—I's the one w'at’s out
i j walkin'. —Good News
THE AGRICULUBAL WORLD.
INSTRUCTIVE REAOINQ ABOUT
FARMS.
Palrtrlilal tka loll-Ta Dnlror
laaata Thistle*—IwmI Cream
Balter—Mistakes of litockmea
—The hew Oaloa Caltare—
Items of laterest.
There ere several results to he
gained by thoroughly pulverizing the
soil before planting the seed. If thin
la done. In nearly all oases the seed
will germinate quicker and better, and
plants will make a thriftier start In
growth. A certain amount of heat and
moisture is necessary In induce a good
germination of the seed, and In a ma
jority of cases this can be secured by
placing it in contact with the soil,
and a fine tilth will help materially In
this. Then when the soli Is in good
tilth the fine tender roots of the plants
will be better able to uenetrate the soil
to adran&ge.
One of the principal advantages
gained In pulverizing the soil Is that
the plant food is brought into a more
available condition for the use of the
plants and this helps materially in se
curing a better growth.
Iu many cases, even in a hln cropped
down soil, a much better growth and
yield can*be secured if the soil is pre
part'd in a tine tilth before growing the
seed, and kept so during growth by
frequent cultivation, than would other
wise in- possible. By bringing the soil
to a good tilth before planting, it is
easier to keep it in a good tilth after
wards while tlie plants will make a
vigorous start to grow.
Thoroughly flniug the soil aids it to
retain moisture as well as to draw it
from the sub-soil by capillary attrac
tion.
wnuo iair crops may oe grown m a
rich soil with Indifferent preparations,
the host growth and yield is only pos
sible by having the soil in a line tilth
before planting the seed, and as far
as possible keeping it in such condition
during growth.
With nearly all cultivated crops one
of the best plans of management is
to plow reasonably deep, prepare the
soil in a good tilth before planting the
seeds, and then keep it thoroughly
so during growth, by shallow surface
cultivation. This puts the available
plant food in a good condition to be
taken up by the growing plants, and
helps materially in supplying the nec
essary moisture.
The more uioroughly the soli is pre
pared before planting, the less work
will be necesSary to keep In a good
afterwards, hence, it Is good economy
to take time to prepare perfectly be
fore planting the seeds, and it will be
less work to maintain a good growth.
To Destroy Csssds Thistles.
The following modes of dealing with
Canada thistles are recommended by
the Ohio Agricultural Experiment Sta
tion:
1. Drop out of the rotation, so far
ts practicable, all such crops as allow
the thistle seeds to ripen before these
ire cut, until infested uelds have been
dealt with.
2. Plow the land Immediately after
harvest. Plow shallow with any kind
of plow that will cut the thistles off
uiean without breaking off the creep
ing rootstocks. Keep the thistles front
breathing above ground until rite late
lutumn plowing, which should be deep,
for the sake of the crop which Is to
come after. In the spring keep the
thistles under by the use of a suitable
cultivator, until the time of planting
a crop of corn, roots or rape. Give the
crop thus planted tho horse-hoeing nec
essary. once or twice after the horse
cultivation ceases, and there should
not bo one thistle left. The most ef
fective part of the work has been
done the preceding autumn, providing
the weather at that time has been dry.
Flow the ground deeply in Au
eust. Sow rye early in September at
the rate of two and one-half to three
bushels per acre, and cut the following
spring fOr winter fodder. Then plow
the ground deeply with any kind of
plow that will effectually bury the
stubbles. The jointer with skimmer
will answer very welll. Then roll at
once to conserve the moisture. Har
row once a week until it is time to
drill the ground for rape. Drill about
the last of June or first of July by us
ing the double mold board plow. The
drills may be twenty-two to twenty
four inches apart Sow at once with
rape by using the ordinary turnip drill,
and then cultivate and care for as de
scribed In section 2 above. In our ex
perience at this farm we have found
this mode of destroying the Canada
thlhtle to be very effective.
4. Plow under pasture lnnd in June,
or laud from which a crop of hay has
been removed early In July. Work
the land thus plowed upon the surface,
so that all thistles will be kept under
until the time of sowing winter wheat.
Sow the wheat with clover and re
peat the process is necessary, after
having cut one. two or three crops of
the clover. This method is applicable
to stiff soils, where winter wheat can
be grown. In sections where winter
wheat will not grow substitute for it
rye, spring wheat or barley, as may
oe uesireo.
5. Where the laud has been sown to
clover, out the crap twice for hay or
once for hay nnd once for seed. ‘Then
follow with a hoed crop properly cul
tivated. The smothering Influences of
the two crops of clover In one season,
and then two cuttings, are very help
ful in reducing the thistle.
0. When the thistles are well brought
under they should be kept so by the
use- of the spud. The grain ‘fields
should be gone over before havest to
prevent the thistles from blossoming,
and after harvest the meadows and
Adds sown to grass.
.7. In removing thistles from per
manent pastures, we must lie gov
erned by the character of the soil and
subsoil as to our mode of procedure.
Mistakes ef Stockmen.
Farmers and especially stock raisers
often fall because the proprietor at
tempts to do everything himself. He
works early and late, is always worn
out: consequently nothing is well done.
On a large stock farm two hired men
can be profitably used. It Is Impera
tive that the stock be looked after at
Bight, especially during spring months
when young animals are being oon
; stantly bom. No one man can do all
; this work, neither can a man work all
i day and part or most of the night as
i the case may require. Arrange the
: work so that if the hired man stays up
with a sick animal, a farrowing sow.
etc., he can the next day get time to
make tip lost deep, otherwise he will
be in no condition to do his work thor
1 oughly and skillfully. Of all the men
about a farm, the proprietor or gen
eral manager needs the most rest In
planning the day, work he needs a
clear head. He’ice It Is necessary to
success to hare some one to do night
work. Usually seven or eight hours
is sufficient for a mature man. Boys
under twenty-tire require more. It la
only by giving strict attention to the
demands of nature that the stockman's
powers can be used to the best advan
tage. '
A Frefieit Mistake la F«e4l»f.
When on unusually long Journey is
to be undertaken, it is customary, with
many people, to give an extra quan
tity of grain immediately prior to start
ing, and It may be to subjects indif
ferently fed, and Irregularly exercised,
or, In other words, those In poor con
dition. Even though precaution is tak
en in driving slowly, we often find, as
veterinary surgeons, that such Is the
history of cases we are called upon
to treat of horses suffering from that
frequently fatal affection.
After Journeys of unusual length, or
exertion of any kind, the same dan
ger is to be encountered from the fa
tigue resulting, and consequent inabil
ity on the part of the digestive organs
to operate upon an ordinary feed of
grain, much less an inordinate one,
which is only too frequently provided
under such circumstances.
A horse iu a tired state is more safe
ly fed on hay until rest has been al
lowed for from half an hour to two
hours; for all they will be likely to
consume of this more easily digested
fodder will not so readily overtax the
stomach. When much depression has
resulted from fatigue, a pail of thin
gruel will soon revive the animal, on
account of its being readily absorbed
and getting into the blood, and being
nutritious in character as well.—Cana
dian Live Stock Journal.
The Itew Onto* Culture.
The new onion culture, as it is called,
sowing seeds In a hotbed and trans
planting, is certainly not a new idea.
In California the Chinese have long
grown onions on this plan.
They do not use hotbeds, of course,
as all hardy vegetables grow outdoors
the year round in California. They
sow the seed thinly in beds in the field,
and transplant to the permanent
grounds when the plants are about the
size of pipe stems. Where the Chinese
got the idea it is difficult to say; they
have probably grown onions that way
in China for hundreds of years.
As to the advantages of this plan,
that is a problem to be solved by cir
cumstances. It is’doubtful if there is
a saving of labor.
Getting down to figures, there are i
100,000 onion plants on an acre, and j
there is a vast amount of labor in
volved in putting them out; on the j
other hand, there lo a great deal of :
labor involved weeding the onions iu
the field, until they get to the size at
which they are transplanted.
It is probable that the real advan
tage of this new culture is, not in re
ducing the cost of production, but in
earliness, and thus getting better
prloes. Those who grow onions by this
method should market them before the j
general crop is ready for market. |
Sweet Cream Butter. i
If any one prefers sweet cream but- !
ter he can have it by making it him- |
self or by having it made. Of the
many million pounds of butter made
in Iowa creameries each year, not a
pound is made from sweet cream ex
cept as an experiment. The public
taste still calls for that from ripened
cream. There Is a small private de
mand for sweet cream butter, and at
a fancy price. But most of the fancy
article is still made from ripened
oream. It is easy at this time of year
to experiment on making butter from
sweet cream. Churn at a lower tem
perature than when sour. Have it be
low 00 deg. or there will be loss of
fat. Use more butter color also, as
sweet cream butter has less color as
well as less aroma. Experiments at the
Iowa station Indicate that it will ripen
after churning and in time become
practically identical with that made
from ripened cream. The advocates
of sweet cream butter are very strenu
oua in their claims, and quite irapa
tient with the mass of butter makers, ]
but the general market still discrimi
nates against butter made entirely
from sweet cream.
Value of Inquiring;. '•> j
Feeding is often done at random.
Tbe food supply Is used without refer
ence to its adaptation to the needs
of the animal. This exhibits a lack
of thoughtful inquiry. Every young
man by asking questions and by read
ing books and papers, acquires a con
siderable fund of information which is
capital In his business of general farm
ing or raising lire 'stock. It is by the
proper use of the long evenings at this
time of the year that his foundation
for future success is laid. It is like-,
wise true that the middle-aged man'
by the same course maintains Us
strength of purpose and is able to hold
Us own with improved conditions. In
the past* there are many examples of
men who have succeeded grandly by
their own thoughts and plans, and
the knowledge they have picked up
by diligent use of the means at their
disposal.
Rtpenlnc the Cream.
I believe there is nothing so impor
tant and yet difficult in producing first
class butter as the process ol ripening
the cream. It is impossible almost
to have all of the conditions twice
alike. Some patron's cream may have
been a little sour, wUch, when mixed
with the rest, of course, hastens the
ripening process. If the butter maker
Is not aware of tills sour cream it will
be ready for the churn before he Is
ready for it. therefore the quality of
the butter must be more or less Im
paired. This is oue of the many in
stances where the butter maker has
to contend with difficulty. If cream
ery patrons would only co-operate with
the butter maker what a differeuce
there would be in the general quality
of butter throughout the country.
Always C«^ry * Jack-Knife.
The usefulness of carrying a sharp
jack-kuffe was shown the other day in
a Lewiston. Me., mill, when a young
woman's hair came tumbling down as
she passed a heavy piece of machinery
and the ends of it caught in some slowly
revol vingcogwheels. The girl screamed,
but did uot have the presence of mind
to break away at once before more
strands of her hair were caught and
dragged in. She stood there holding
out her arms and screaming, while her
head was drawn nearer and nearer to
the fatal wheels. Then up came a man
with a sharp jack-knife. He compassed
the hair, of the girl within his left hand
and held it firmly as he might a rope
and with the other hand severed the
hair close to the wheels.
A Fishy Detective.
A British ship bound for the West
Indies once fell in with a suspicions
looking craft having the appearance of
a slave-trader and gave chase During
the pursuit something was thrown over
board from the pursued vessel, which
was captured and taken into Port Boyal
to be examined. The ship's papers were
not forthcoming, and the vessel was in
a fair way to escape condemnation,
when a ship came into port which had
caught a shark, in whose stomach was
a tin box containing the missing pa
pers. These clearly showed that the
captured craft was engaged in the slave
trade, and proper punishment was
meted out to her officers. The tin box
which the shark swallowed is now in
the museum at Whitehall Yard, Lon
don.
The Anglomaniacs.
The habit of turning1 up the trousers
an iuch or two at the ankle has become
almost second nature among the mem
bers of a certain class of anglomaniacs
in Mew York. The condition of the
weather makes no difference with
them. One young man of unmistakable
English bearing attracted an unusual
amount of attention to himself at a re
ception in one of the Fifth avenue pal
aces the other uight by appearing on
the. floor of the ball room with his well
pressed black trousers turned up snugly
around his ankles, lie subsequently
explained that he had turned them up
from force of habit, and had forgotten
to turn them down before descending
from the dressing room.
Balt In Angling.
A scientific paper tells of a new flaw
ing device whereby the minnow used
for bate in angling for large fish is kept
alive and safe from the predatory deni
zens of the deep, who strike at it, but
catch hooks instead. It is incased in a
glass tube, through which the water
circulates freely. The application is
new, but the idea of carrying bait in a
bottle is as old as angling is. There is
one improvement to be noted, as under
the old plan the bait whs sure to give
out sooner or later, depending on the
size of the bottle and the ardor of the
fisherman.
Wouldn't Hava Believed It.
“ You would scarcely take my daugh
ter—Baby, we call her, to be twenty
one years old, would you?” said a fond
mother, speaking of her spinster-look
ing child!. “No, indeed, I should not,”
was the reply. “So every one says.
But how old would you have imagined
her?” “Oh, I don’t know exactly,
though if I had been gussing her age,
I should have said she was about thirty
three and a half, or may be three
quarters. One can’t always tell within
a month or two, you know.
A WORKINGMEN'S BUILDING.
Hovel enterprise at St. Lonla—Elabor
ate Arrangements for the Exposition.
St. Louis, Mo., March 18.—There is
no city in the United States that has a
building' of any importance whatever
devoted entirely to the uses of work
ingmen and owned by them.
St. Louis is to have one very soon.
The lodges and unions of the city have
discovered that they are paying to the
owners of the various halls in which
they hold their meetings something
like 930,000 a year in rent, and they
are tired of it. The ruling rate of in
terest here is eight per cent. The
workingmen could pay the interest on
9300,000 with the money they now
spend for rent. That is the way they
look at i(, and the contemplation of
the fact has driven them to the decis
ion to build a hall to cost about 8250,
000 and pay for it by the rent charged
the organizations that use it. As all
the building trades are supporters of
the plan the building will probably be
erected without delay, the idea being
now to finish it this year.
A new charity nas been established
in St. Louis on such a broad founda
tion that its success is guara nteed. 11
has been found that some of the chil
dren in the public schools were so in
sufficiently fed that it was useless to
expect them to study. They were sent
off in the morning with a scanty break
fast and no lunch, and got only a little I
to eat at night. A plan to help these
families was at once put into opera- j
tion, in charge of the Provident Asso
ciation. Agents were sent around to
the homes of all the school children
who were inadequately clothed and
fed, and systematic relief was pro
vided for the heads of the families.
The plan was suggested first a month
ago, and the principals of the schools
rejmrt that it has resulted in a great
increase of pupils and much more satis
factory work. The charity will be
made a permanent one, and it has as
surance of strong financial support.
There has been already a rush of ex
hibitors to the Exposition, which opens
In September, and the management
has been forced to warn those who in
tend to make displays that they must
choose their position at once, if at all. j
The many new attractions of the Ex
position have been so thoroughly ad
vertised all over the country that the
managers expect ten times as many
people as came last year, and all the
railway arrangements will be made
accordingly. The art galleries and the
exhibits of electrical wonders will be
especially alluring. Director Sousa's
famous Marine Band of Washington,
which for years has divided the honors
with Gilmore, will furnish the music,
beginning the first night of the Ex
position. There will be two great
pageants while the Exposition lasts,
the Veiled Prophet's parade, and the
! Columbian procession, and considerin'^
the sight-seers these will draw, besides
those who come for the Exposition
alone, the hotels and boarding-house
1 keepers of the city do not think they
! are to° sanguine in making their ar
j rangements to accommodate half a
I million people during .the mouths of
| September and October.
serious facts a,o^
WUch HwmjT ~~~
■ssrtSSSss
BSJfiSiSaS
«J«ry physician,
S£TK.tK££?’.
tnnu
ssssw'srsS
irrIUU,. ol .hft* "
caused by the continu^T*
prepared with theaCo^
piepowders, are fa^C£
tice of every physician. *
It as not possible that on.
housewife, any loving £5
Icnowingly use an articled
will injure the health of L
or^rhaps cause the death, .
How shall the dangerous,,,
ders be distinguished? '
the danger to health *
avoided?
1 fr<»n their!
Generally, alum powdm ,
known from the price atwS,
sold, or from the fact that tu
companied by a gfift, or are S
under some scheme. The »w
costs but a few cents a pound*)]
and is often sold at ^ or^
pound. If some present is gi'„
Pnce may be 30,40 of*
It is impossible to name alltl
powders in the market, bat to
powder sold at a low price «
used as costing only half as.
cream of tartar powders, or *
*ied by a present, or disposed a
any scheme, is of this class, detri
to health, and to be avoided.
But the easy, safe, and cn
taction of our bread, biscuit
from all danger of unwholeso*
in the use of Boyal Baking]
only. This powder is mention
cause of the innumerable report
f?TO?rhigh medical author!
the U. Is. Government, andbTl
cial chemists and Boards oil,
which leave no doubt as to it
freedom from alum, lime and
U? absolute Purity and whole™
While its use is thus a safegusrdi
the poisonous alum powders it
factory at the same time to k
it makes the whitest, lightest,,
and most delicious food, nl
keep moist and fresh longer. ,
can be eaten with immunity,
cold, stale or fresh, and also that
to its greater strength it is
nomioal than others.
These facts should incline_
to turn a deaf ear to all imports
to buy the inferior powders. H
eer urges the sale of the chesp,'
alum brands, it should be home _
that it is because he can ash
profit on them. The wise hooa
will decline in all cases to tike
Take no chances through
doubtful article where so imp
matter as the health or life of d
is at stake.
The six-story building of tie
loan and Trust company at Ogfc
gutted by fire. Loss on bniMhf
000; insurance 965.000.
Faith may move mountains,
hasn't moved in this country I
time now.
Oar— Oaaroptl oo.Coagbs. tag
Iknal. Sold by all Draoistt sa I Or^
Fora Lame Side, Back orCheat ShiWkS
PlaaI— will give great aamfactioe.-*} a
_ ifanyeaald
I warns care Sal
■ atlnam no »
I days, let ki*1
I pat Uculare *o
1 rare our relid1
I financial &
___I tf.00.OW. Wkeei
lpotassium, ssrssp.rill*or EotSl>n«>
A too O ears—sod our Mae e' -
that will cars permanently, redu a
I, free. COOK HkSSDT l'e., Cblwr>. »■
URNiTUREl
liii*i>rnnnt<w tn Hotels or people I«r°
[licementis to llotols or people? j’ur|=
OUghoilt. CHAS. HHlVEKICKiLO^
THK ( KLEBRVTKD
WHITNEY MM
n CEJIT STOBE.««^
WALLPAPERi
_ _—« * cduiV rtmlil ^
IW««'
roll. G"1J
poporll
__ up. "w
plM, FrM HENRY f.PHJUX. 0™*j£ ,,11
Kamplr Book*, orer 400 litfrrrnl -IT_
011110 B>M **'k 51iTeIc*t»"«
BURS SiSGScS/Mwgi
£ Cm MaaikM'inf. Co-CPM**''0*"''1
HARNESS BSffijjj
WAK01IS.CABBIM
W.IJU
oil »*2
SOOTH OMAHA
WOOD BROS.
utv .f.TM tWt.'OD. Mf' ®9:
VI ^uy nuvvi i0**#a
HAN, uLTE* E.W> OD. SJSo*’
Mg*. 111. «>KII rrOOlt* . ^
Irani t'MUu<i» »“■' •f,’r —
u_a_:i r.ik unH b 3' 11
rami ,1, l«l*V
■ono. April ilk and «h U«ft
Tarda Him Markrt. f„r >
will bo I bo iireatoslo.nlr u' ^ n;,vui«|-’*,,
tho wear, some of lbet,'Tilil,tie!t v**
ofored will M sold «« JS_.
oat Itnorre. Send for cutu.i1* __ —
It Ho Known of the *U"*'°*| hS
■lla*
If possible, tradition
ave told us less thft.<
lardens of Babylon 1 won^
bout the other six or se ,
he ancient world. He’™<LJ;il?,
■ution them; Pliny °»!>.
i_. . exi>lr‘ .ri
eution them; rim' •. ncf, jw
ides to their former ex - rnf>
iriptural account of ^ til
ebuchadnezzar ignores &,,<<
together. Popular arc . ,K..r1
together. Popular a« they1
ould have us believe t . |tyl
ide of huge baskets of ^ w*
ts themselves of ir° antfc ^
st square) hung °n S*th»t f-1
lieh were erected
ar the royal palace at
