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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (July 13, 1893)
A HINT, ?: <• Out Daisy lay down Ty;: la hor white nightgown, And kissed me attain ami again On for.bead nml cheek, On li| a that could speak, t Dal found themselves, shut to their gain. 1 / Tlion foolish, absurd, To uttor a word, i & I asked her the question so old, That wife and thut lover, ... Asked over and over. As if they were surer when told. There eloso at her side, , ••Do you love mo!” I cried: : She liftesi tier golden-crowned hoad, 'lx A puszled surprise f - frihono In her gray eyes— * “Why, that’s why I kiss you.” sho said -Glo’oo Democrat. The Actor's btory. DV jo:i\ < OLHTIAN. A T S" ; if f «5-< si . . CHAPTEK VI -dovTiNUEn. Flora foun<l Jcannio McPhoraatt hovering ’twixt life mid (lentil. The naolo of tliu perpetrator of t he outrage Wa« hardly hinted among the servant*, but no ouo dared to speak out. Of courseii Flora had her own suspicions. "It is nir ill-wind that blows no body good." and it was well for tho girl that her young mistress had returned. or McAllister would have found that his bru tality hud betrayed him to murder, l'oor Jounnio’s sufferings somewhat diverted Flora's mind from her own troubto Iter first duty now was to hor faithful hand-maiden whom sho j nursed with assiduous tenderness. Next morning tit daybreak, when j tho fishermen went out to cast their j neta they fouud Curly lying, bathed I in blond, wbare ho had fallen the night boforo. Snvo for some faint pul sation of tho heart, ha was to all ap peal anee quite dead. M'Diurtnid and three or four of the men carried him 1 to Sandy’s collage, where tbo guidwifo ] applied fomentations. and for hours j and hours ehafod the frigid limbs till 1 they slowly revived to lifo. but con- ' aciousncss and speech hail wholly left, him. At htsl they succeeded In forcing a spoonlul or two of whiskey and milk down hU throat and thus they kept body and sottl together for somodays. At length David Donaldson had got the better of h.s fall, and was for re. turning to tho Ferry, l.o had a kind heart hud honnst Davio. and when ho ■aw poor Curly In this noful plight he forgavo him his own cruet, on the head, which was a stinger, and re* 3s. membered only that Curly had given ifr him nine golden.:overoigns. Then he volunteered to go to Dundee and •apriog" a guinea for a surgeon. , Next day ho returned w.th Dr. Dixon, the famous theatrical physi > elan, who recognized Curly instantly. ff despite his haltered condition. "<iood God!” exclaimed the doctor, •this is ao awful business. Concus sion of the brain—compound fracture! Who did it? It'd murder or man slaughter at the least! No ucrideht here, but a foul blow. Who did it? IP ye hear?-' M’Diarmid replied. »•Do’ll o’ me f-- kens, or ony o' thno chaps. -AVo found the puir laddio lying at the foot o’ the great muckle hill, yestreen was a wook past" That was all the Information Dl\on could obtain. l>oubllcss M’Diarmid and Davie had their suspicions us to how the outrage occurred, but they kept their own counsel for the present l’."'' Di on wasted no llmo in words. Ho decided that his patient must bo taken ! to Dundee at once. Without delay • the poor fellow was carried down to i the con hand M'Diurtnid and Klspctli ! ijv accompanied Davie and the doctor. the guidwiTe tenderly nursing Curly’s i , head upon her lap all the way,'and nover quilting him till bo was safely ensconced in the infirmary. The poor soul had a son of his ago tlghtlng tho j queen’s battles far away in India—so I aha kissed his fevered brow and mat- > lered: ., "Puir bairn! It’s my heart that’s sad for ye. Puir laddie! pjir laddio! It’s waa for the mitker that bare ye." >f:, . "When M’Diarmid led her from tha room she hissed in his ear: "Sandy, Hwos yon muckle lang loon with the corbie's beak and the evil een that did Jv it Hut he'll never pro per with-the la sin nor with aught else.” * Curly’s ease was one that almost if1;!' ba' od the (acuity, hut Dr. Dixon was , not to be beaten; he had made up his < v mtnd to save his patient, and save U . him he did at last l’erchance it hud V been better for the poor allow had he died then and there Tho • good Samaritans at the infirmary ; - . nursed him by day. watched over him C by night, with unceasing tenderness f and care anticipating bis every wish, fain every look. ’ v Whoa at length. after months of sV darkness and delirium, the light of reason began to dawn; thore was gen t?. eral rejoicing throughout t..e place, for they had grown to love the poor »v creature even as though ho were 'Y»: their own khh and kin. Every morn ing; when Dr. Dixon came in. hU pa 4y tient's face would light up into the [/ shadow of a smile, and his eye would follow his nurse with a kind of dutch dog-liko gratitude. Though speech was den'ed him he could dis ■ Slaguish all that was said to him. and ^’{£'.1* was. quite touching to see him gen ' tljMnke the hand of nurse or doctor. > hnd kiss it with some ol the old grace. When at length Jcunnio M’l'herson recovered si;o < ould scarcely recog nise Iter beautiful young mistress in i>~' the stern, gray woman to whom she owed hdr life. As soon as she was !;.• able io speak coherently Flora in sisted on the truth. When the girl ■i told her, all Floia’s anger against fX. M’ AUister ripened into openly a owed ifij: indignation, and tho estrangement between father and' child was com plete. As for DeemjNter. she had al ways disliked him. now sho positive ly loathed the sight of tho man. Ho was a constant visitor, but whonever . be entered the room sho left it— ;V whenever be-at down to table she rose and (.uitled it without a word. ■iy ' ‘ One day the two men had been iriaHnw together, and M'Allisler , .. . ' ' ■ ' rought the other In to aiuner. A■ toou as Flora saw him sho rose and vurnod toward tho door. ■■bide a woo. Flora," said M’Allls* ter. "It's time to j«ut a stop' to tnls nonsense. You may ns well aeons tom yoursotf to Strath mines' company, becauso I've given my word that you ure to bo his wife. ” ••And Mr. Doompstor?" she In quired, coldly. ••Why. look here Flora” replied Dnn’I. At the sound of his voice sho drew herself up disdainfully. “Sir." sho said. “I have nlroady erlvon my father an answer, but evi dently ho has not beon frank with you. I shall nover marry. If my mnrrintre eould save tho world and all thrills in It from destruction, vou nro iho last man on earth that ) could over call husband. Gracious God!” sho criod. bursting out. •'Can this creature not soo how I hato him? I loathe iho very sound of his voice. His sight is poison to mo. For you. sir. " sho said, turning to hor father. ! • if ever you sutler this mau to ob 1 trade himself on mu again I quit your roof the next moment.” 1" ho then loft tho room. From that time forth sho confined herself to her own apartments; except for her faith ful Jeannie, sho was always alone. •'So. after all their scheming, after jslL !h**ir violence, it had come to this: Three lives blighted, two hearts broken, and tho Laird of Slrathmincs further otT than ever from the one ob ject on which ho had cent ed bis hopes, in this world and the next CHAPTER VII. Good Samaritans. Six months and more had elapsed slnco Willie and Curly had parted. •Jamieson thought it strange, after all Donald's urolestationsL (hat he had pcvoronce written, and the soft place in his heart grew sore. At length tho time arrived for the return of the company to Abordeon. Ono day. taking a solitary ramble in tho neighborhood of the Gairloch Hoad, tho young tragedian encoun tered a lady and her maid driving in an open pony carringei Sho looked at him. and bowed; bo bowed aguin ns sho passed out of sight. Tho face evoked an 'impression—not a recol lection. Yea be had seen a face somewhere like that before. Could it bo? Pshaw! No. This woman was sterner and older—she was twenty yours older—and yet. how the face haunted him! Next morning he fouud a letter on tho breakfast tnblo. It was an official looking document, written on blue pnper. On the outside page was prinlod in bold characters, • -Royal Infirmary, Dundee.” Tne superscrip tion was in a strange hand. Eagerly tearing open the envelope, he read these six words: ••Dear Willie—Come to me. Cur ly.” Feeble and indistinct as were the characters, there was no mistake about ihe writer. Without waiting for food or anything else Willie ran down to Johnston's lodgings showed him tho letter, and asked leave ef ab sence. The manager, who was not without just cause for complaint against Curly for ‘ bolting’' at a mo ment’s notice, and leaving him in the lurch, said: •Ca my lad—go at once. There's something wrong, depend on’t. Do you want any tin?” ••Well, I’m not all over money, sir. and I may want something when I get to Dundee;” •Well—take ten pounds. Will that be enough?” •Vcuite enough.” "Stop. Should you need any more, send for it, and tell the young beggar that the old berth is open to him if he likes to come back. Good by. and good luck to you. Drop mo a line as soon as you see how the land Ilea and take a week’s leave of ab sence, I’ll play Macbeth to-night and arrange the business for the rest of the week without you.” Next morning, by 11 o'clock. Jnm eson was at the infirmary in Dundee, Dr. Dixon told him. as far as ho knsw, all that had happened, then they went to the Invalid's room together. They found him sleeping tranquilly—but oh. so changed—so worn and wasted—the sight went to Willie’s heart When poor Curly nwoko he looked up. their eyes mot there was a convulsive movement about the mouth and the muscles of tho throat, theu he gasped out tho | first urticulate words be had uttered for mouths. "Willie, dear old chap. 1 i knew you’d come,” With that ho put his wasted arms around the other's neck, and burst out crying like a child. The doctor blew his nose till it resounded like a sDeaklmr trumpet, and withdrew, leaving or ders for the two young men to be left alone. Thanks to his influence, they slept in the same room, so that they were not separated night nor day during his short visit. After that Curly’s recovery, though still slow, was certain. Jatnleson waa of course. anxious to know what had really occurred since their parting. and how it was that tho accident or outrage had happened. One day he broached the subject but at the mere mention of Flora’s name the other lell into a paroxysm of grief, which was not only terrible to behold, but caused a relapse of so serious a character as to bo attended with great danger. That morning, when Dr. Dixon came he found his patient trembling, con* vulscd and speechless. Tho work of months had been undone in an instant • What's up?” he inquired. When Jamieson explained, he grunted. -Ob, a woman of courses I might have known that; there al ways is a woman! That explains the rest There is a man. then, •doubtless —another man —and he it is who has smashed this poor lad's 6lcull. D'ye ken the murdering thief?" ••I think I do. ” replied Willie. .•■•If I were sure of it! If only I were sure of it" ‘if’.' •Anyhow, you may be quite sureof one thing." said Dixon. ••The blow that neurly bludgeoned your friend out of ilfo came from a loaded weapon of some sort.” ••If l live,” aaid thootber. ‘Ill find It out. I know the man—he may es« capo the law, but,” and he bet bis teeth, - he shall not escape me. It may not be to dny. nor to-morrow, nor noxt week—but sooner or later. I'll have it out with him as sure as my nnmo’s Willie Jamieson." And so tho matter dropped for the present The doctor gave Curly a composing draught and next day he began to mend again, though slowly. At the end of a week Willie had to return to Aberdeen to wind up the season and to take his benefit When he told Curly thnt he must go, ho moaned piteously. "You're not going to leave me so soon?” Hut he was reassured when Willie told him that he would return id a torinigni. When Jnmieson cot back to Aber deen, he recalled the mysterious lady. He understood well enough now who she wns. So he went straight to M’Aliister bouse, and asked to see Flora. Ho encountered tho old man, who was characteristically insolent, and demanded to know -‘what, the blazes he wanted with his daughter," A little insolence went a long way with Jumieson. who could be danger ous when he was angered? and Mr. M'Allistcr concluded it was best to be civil, and even vouchsafed the infor mation that his daughter had gone to Edinburgh on a visit to her aunt. Upon the subject uppermost in both men's hearts they did not oven touch. Jamieson departed in an evil mood to seek L'eempster's house. Fortunately for the Laird of Strathmines, he, too. had gone to Edinburgh. At length it was time to return to Dundee for the commencement of the Season. Thanks to the consideration of the doctor and the house surgeon, the rules and regulations of the infirmary were relaxed in favor of their patient, and alt the members of the company —n:on. women and children—were permitted to come and see him. bring ingt|Utle presents of flowers and the like. These visita instead of fatig uing. brought him daily fresh breaths of life from the outer world, and he began to rally rapidly. [TO BE CONTINUED. ] THE ART OF FASCINATION. It Blast He Cultivated Early and la the Home Circle. The secret of fascination is one which many women would sacrifice a great deal to learn. To cultivate a charming and attractive manner one must begin at home, and surely a bet ter school could not be devised, for the training is, in its way. perfection. Here you are sure to find each day little rubs which must be smoothed with skilful touch: there is a con stant mind friction going on even among the most devoted members of the household. It is a painful fact, though none the loss true, that one's family acts us a constant counter-irritant. Now a steady effort to smooth over the rough placea minister to wounded hearts and with deft touches erase un pleasant memories is called for. and she who obeys tnese summons is pret ty sure to find herself full able to cope in the most agreeable fashion with the outside world. Few women, however, realize that a fascination of manner is not born, but cultivated. It begins to bud in the nursery, developes under the skil full training of painstaking instruct ors. and blossoms forth into complete; beauty in the society of well-bred' women.—Philadelphia Record. Doubtful Success. Imagination sometimes creates dif ficulties und sometimes but not often, it helps to overcome them. A maid en lady.-liviog at a fashionable water ing-place on the Western coast of England, is said to have bad a great curiosity to aee Napoleon. \V hen he was a prisoner on board the Ballerophon tossing in Tor Bay. she braved the dangers and discom forts incidental to a trip in a small fishing boat on a windy day in order to get a look at the captive, who bad ••whipped the world." On returning to shore late in the evening, exhausted but rejoicing, she was asked by a less enterprising friend if she had really soon -the monster." To this question the enthusiastic spinster replied by lifting up eyes and bauds in fervent gratitude to heaven, und exclaiming: ••Yea thanks for the sight! At least," she continued dropping her voice to a doubtful mutter. “1 believe 1 almost saw his coattails.” — Youth’s Companion. A Baikci at the ntMiheid. When a sailing master wishes to buy oysters in the ports of the Ches apeake ho runs up to the masthead an oyster basket, and presently has plenty offered at the vessel’s side. Down at C’hincoteague Island the basket at the masthead is sometimes accompanied by a flag of concentric squares in different colors. During the closed season for oysters the bas ket and the flag indicate that the mas ter wishes to buy clams. The Chin j coleague clam digger works during j the greater part of the year, and a ! very spry man in a spot where clams j me ttiick can tread out a great many I hundred in a day. Clams fetch from ! $1 to $1.6t> per 1,000 at Chincoteague, J which seems a great deal for the | money when one thinks of clam chow der at a fashionable restaurant. X Feminine Trait. “You ortu’t to put them pieces o’ money in yer mouth, Swipsey,” said the newsboy. ' ••Why not?* demanded the boot black. ••'Coz it ain't manly. It makes yer look like a woman ridln' on a street car.”—Chicago Daily Tribune. • ’ ' • . . . : C ‘-•''-. V'V. - FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. CONSIDER WELL BEFORE MAK* INQ CHANGES. B« flora Voo Can Do Better Before Ton <io Aho Ml —llr-TroducU of the Dairj—. Oreiiie on Fruit Tree a—Horticultural Uinta ami Household Helps. Shall He Change? T. B. Torry in Practical Farmer replica to some inquirios of an Ohio man as follows: Twelve years ago you went into debt mostly for a fifty-acre farm, which cost you $2,80J. You have paid out and built a large barn and a $1,5:)J house, and paid for them cash down, and this by what you call mixed farming. You have done well, very well. But you sav you are thinking of changing and keeping cows, making butter, building a silo, etc., and asking whether you would better and how many cows you can keep, and also whether I think the berry business would pay better. First, my friend, be slow to change at all. You ate doing very welt Be quite sure you can do decidedly bet tor before making any change. If you can get say 25 cents a pound the year round, or more, for your butter, dairying could be made to pay well. But it will be very confining business, seven days in a week. It will cost you a good deal to get well fixed. You will want at least good selected common cows and a first-class Jersey malo, then you can work up. You should have a separator, a good dairy house, ice house, a power of some kind to run your churn and separator, pump, water, etc., a milk test, and a silo will be nice to save your corn in. You can get along without this, however, for a time, by taking good care of your fodder and cutting it by horse power in the win ter. Then you want entirely com fortable quarters for your cows, where you can save all the manure, and, may I say it? You want to bo just the man for the business. To make the most in this line you need to be quiet and gentlo with the cows. always; you want to love them, to when yon aro around the stable they will give more milk just from looking at you. And you want to be around the stable daily and constantly. Then i if you do your part all around you may .work up to $80 or $100 per cow. You have good land evidently and you “can” keep twenty or* thir ty or even forty cows in time, buying only bran and oil meal or cotton seed meal. The way corn grows on the bottom land in your country, you ought to raise enough, corn on an acre to keep a cow nearly two years, winter and summer, except that she would need a little clover hay or nitrogenous food. I would raise the best calves and thus improvo my stock. And you can raise your farm, too, or keep it up. Butter takes lit tle value from the soil. A ton has but forty-eight cents of fertility in it, and not that, probably, if you arc j very cleun about milking. A ton of | butter should bring you $500. A ton i of timothy hay may sell for $10 and j it takes from the soil cn the same i basis $5.38 worth of fertility. I The berry business is a good one, | if you work to the top and get extra i choice fine fruit to customers in nice shape. I don't mean that you work the nice berries to the top of the package, but that you have unusually fine on top and just the same all through. Great care and skill will pay just aswell, perhaps in this line as in butter making, if you are situ ated so that you can readily hire pickers enough that live near by, and have the market within reach. Lots of money can be made from fine strawberries, but you have got to love them, the care of them as well as to eat them, and never tire for one day of waiting on them any more than you would waiting on the cows. Clipping Queen'* Wing*. Dr. C. C. Miller says: I think I shall always keep my queen’s clipped, at least as long as there is danger of queens flying away with swarms. Some object to clipped wings, and it is only fair to give the objections. One is that a clipped queen mav crawl off on the ground and he lost. So she may, but that is not so bad as to have a queen fly off and bo lost for in the latter case the whole swarm may be lost with her. Another objection is that whero queens are clipped, if several swarms come out at the same time, or in close succession, it may happen that instead of returning to their own hives some of them may unite. True agaih, but again equally true that it is better to have tuu lives in me wrong hive than not to' have them at all. For although it is bettcF in most cases to have no swarms unite, still the refractory bees may do nearly the same work wherever they are. Even if I followed the plan of hiving in a new hive every swarm that issued, 1 would have all queons clipped as soon as convenient after they commenced to lay. Then when a swarm issued I would find and cage the queen, remove the hive from which the swarm issued to a new lo cation, set the new hive in its place,' put the caged queen at te hentrance, and when one swarm had fairly re turned liberate the queen. For ne this would be much easier than to climb trees or saw off limbs, or even to try to get bees to settle on some thing made to imitate a cluster of bees. But thero aro good bee-keep ers who don’t agree with me in this, and you must decide for yourself._ Tournal of Agriculture. Urease on Krnlt Trees. i have at various times heard and read that it will kill apple trees to put muoh grease on them. Now I want to say that I have put grease on trees several times and my trees j seem to grow as well as any trees I have ever seen. Last fall a year, I hauled in 900 trees . I greased’ them heavily with hog’s lard and tuiphur which kept the rabbits and mice from them all winter. Only seven out of I the 900 died last season. About ’ the first of September the rabbits set in on the trees, and I greased them again. The rabbits were so hungry for the bark that in two months I had to grease again. I greased some of the trees twice with hog fat and twice with axle grease. My trees arc alive and flourishing. I have great respect for the experience of others, but a long ways more for my own. I feel like saying to all thoso who would put grease on their trees, if they were not afraid, just try a few and try them thoroughly, then report lly-Products of tiie Batter Dairy. Mirror and Farmer says- there should be an income from the butter, and butter should be the main ob ject. It can be easily made at home; it can be sold at high prices without the intervention of middlemen or danger from storing. The standard butter of production should not bo less than 3.JO pounds per cow per year, and the price not less than 25 cents per pound. An income from the calves of twenty cows of a well bred variety of cattle should not be less than $50; at least, I have no difficulty in selling high grade Jersey and Hol stein calves for $5 apiece. Each year in the dairy of twenty ! cows it will be found necessary and profitable until we acquire more skill, to dispense with at least one fifth of the dairy annually. These discarded animals should not bring less than $30 apiece, or $120. The cow that produces 300 pounds of butter will produce 6,000 pounds of milk, and this, when skimmed, at one-fifth of a cent a pound, brings in an income from. this by-product of $12 per cow. , *’ Summing these all up, we have $75 for butter, $50 for calves, $12) for beef and $12 from the skim milk of each cOw, making a total income from a dairy of twenty cattle, $1,900. It is not too much to say that the manure from these animals is worth $100, making a total in round num bers of $2,000, or $100 per cow, per year. We sometimes think that the dairy does not pay, and it does not if little or nothing is secured from the by products, which are often worth, when well utilized, quite as much as the butter upon which we lay so much store. Horticultural Notes. The soil cannot be piade too rich fo>’ tomatoes. Deep cultivation of the orchard frequently injures the roots of the trees. An exchange recommends the fol lowing as a good wash for cherry trees: A pailful of common white wash. a pint of soft soap and a pound of sulphur. Lots of orchards are failing to yield fruit because of neglect. Trees full of sprouts and dead limbs need not be expected to yield bountifully. They need judicious pruning. If you plant seed of an old variety that will not produce as much by fifty per cent a j a new vaiioty would produce, it is pretty plain that it would pay to buy new seed, is it not? Before an inexperienced man goes into horticulture too far, he had bet ter profit as far as possible by the experience of successful fruit-grow ers. Such wisdom and precaution will save many a fatal blunder. The big red apple and the big red strawberry are the fruits that sell. Better apples and better berries may stand along side of such fruit, but they are not as handsome, but they will rot while the others are selling. Fouselioltl Helps. It is said that a spooiiful of "grated horse radish in a pailful of milk will keep it sweet for several days. Grape fruit is almost as good as quinine for malarial troubles, and pineapplo is a sure cure for soro throat. Tomatoes are perfect liver regulators—they contain a very small portion of mercury. Oranges act on the kidneys vory tonoficially, while lemons and grapes are efficacious in curing and preventing cancerous troubles. a aeugntiui mixture tor perfuming clothes thjit arc packed away, and which is said to keep moths out also, is made as follows: Boat to a powder one ounce each of cloves, caraway seeds, nutmeg, mace, cinnamon and Tonquin beans, and as much .orris rcot as will equal the weight of the foregoing ingredients put together. Idttlo bags of muslin should be filled with this mixture and placed among the garments. Watercresses act on the lungs, and are said to bo a cure for incipient consumption. They certainly have marvellous tonic power, and refresh one after great fatigue. A diet of grapes as a cure-all has been proved valuable in hundreds of cases, and, if taken in time, a case of jaundice can be cured by eating nothing but lettuce and lemon juice. In the face of this, can one not almost dispense with doctors? A dermatologist of high standing says that the proper way to shampoo the head is to use some pure soap, such as castile of the best quality, or glycerine soap, made into a “good lather on the hoad,” with plenty of warm water, and rubbed into the scalp with the fingers or with a rather stiff brush that has long I bristles. When the scalp is very | sensitive, borax and water, or the | yolks of three eggs beaten in a pint j of lime water, are iecommended in I stead of soap and water. Bent and weary she totters alon, past great marts of trade, over th! black river, down narrow side streets, to the rotting teaemont which eivei her shelter. For whom does she toil? Do the hungry lips of gaunt children wait for the bread she brings? Up the narrow stairs she climbs wearily. Pushing open the black, worm eaten door she looks about ter expectantly: Her first thought is of —food? Concealing something under her shawl she turns and goes down into the night. Across the street shines the bril liant window of a saloon. She pushes open the screen door and enters. Is it a wayward son she seeks? A tin pail clatters on the bar. Be side it jingle ten copper cents. “Fill de growler,Mike," she hisses, “or I’ll smash you. You cheated m* out of half de bear last night.” TO LAND A TROUT. Some Kales Which Intending FUhm should StuJjr Carefully. The oncoming of the trout fishing season will land additional interest to the following,, quoted from the Brooklyn Eagle. In throwing a fly raise the arm well up without laboring the body. Send the fly backward by a sudden spring of the wrist. Do not draw tne fly too near or you lose your pur chase for sending it back, and, there fore, require an extra sweep in the air before you can got it into play again. If on sending it back you make the counterspring a moment too soon you will whip off your tail j fly, and if a moment too late yonr line will fall In a slovenly manner, i The knack of catching this time is, therefore, the whole art of throwing well. Allow the line uo more than just time to -»nfold before repeating the spring of the wrist When a fish is hooked the line should be wound up immediately. The rod must be held on the bend, with just purchase enough to prevent the trout from going under a weed or boring into the gravel. Now let : him run and walk by the side of the stream. When he strikes ease him quickly. When he becomes weak pull him gently down stream, aim ing to get his nose above water. This must be..dona with patience. Gradually get the fish on some slop* ing place, and never attempt to pnjl him out of the water, as boysdobull heads. Capture him as best you can, always remembering that it is never safe to think a trout is drownedmM you have him safely in your ban Tho sight of a man with a landing net sometimes revives an apparen ly exhausted fish in a miraculous manner. , Trout seldom rise well to a J nst before rain or at midday. _ Trolling or spinning a nnnM» nd bait fishing in all its ph“ equire no description. Every sc oy knows how to catch trou J hese methods. Most of the choice trout waters oa ,ong Island are now owned or leasw y sporting clubs or by Pr._ adivlduals, and efforts Nave lade to induce legislators to c pon the former privileges ime that are not enjoyed by ents of other parts of the E P Easier to Cut. The five pointed star on the n tional flag is a woman’s idea. ^ inkton wished to adopt tn ^ pointed or ecclesiastical sta . Mrs. Betsy Ross, who made tee ^ American flag, showed him five-pointed star could bo m° veniently cut _ The Wall or Soverm. The wall of Severus, sCPar®:”’ Eng laud from Scotland. «nty. six miles long and guarded o) ^ one' forts. It was twenty feet^ and twenty-four feet t*1'1*’ m0»t the north was protected by forty feet wide and twenty fe England Hu Unwelcome I"\'I“l^*°ed Lord Lyon Playfair recently in the house of lords that un^ 200,000 pauper aliens. l7,0Jd°i were Russians and Poles had1*^ in Great Britain, against a“ gration to America of 17Si>>a