RETRIBUTION.
Upon Ihfl porch most drowsily
la stretched Iho setter Mock and rod.
While circle* wild a honey-boo
Among the roso.« overhead
He Hhnrply oye* his tonved for pr-\y,
Then like a tiger swlstly sprints;
But from his tooth and far owrny
The boo with little effort wIb.m
And then the boo comes darting down.
Swift a« an arrow to the plain.
And Fldo fools upon his crown
A lump that undulates with pain.
Boor Fldo doesn't look as proud
An usual while flying Hoot.
{Enveloped in a pretit dust cloud.
And howling m idly down the street
Ira glad ho's stung I'm sure It's right
That one so big and strong as he
Should come to grief for trying to bite
A little Inoffensive bee
— Harper's Young People.
I THE MERCHANT’S CRIME.
1 nr HORATIO AI.UKK, .IK.
CHAPTER XVII—Continl’eu
It was as follows:
*JAMIS OltOMWEI.I.:
“Dour Sir:—Yours of tho ISth Instant. In*
formlnme of your safe nrrlvul ut Madison
snd your dotormlnatlon to make that place
your homo, woa duly received. Tho nocldont
. which you apeak of as noar befalling my ward
at Nlajar i Kells did not surprlso me. Ho Is a
cstoloas boy. und I shojld not be surprtied at
•ny time to be ir of hi* coming to barm from
this cause of oourso, you will oxarctso prop
or oaro In oautlonln* him. etc, and thon,
should ho meet with ntty accident 1 .hull ox
onorate you from blame In tho mutter How
la hi, health)■ l hare at times thou.-ht he In
horited tho feeble oonatitutlon of hU father. 1
understand also from thv lato Mr Itaymond.
that hi, mother was an In valid,und it Is hardly
to bo ox pooled that ho would have a very
■trail, or vigorous constitution. However, I
do not fool anxious on this point, ns I am
> aware that you have a knowled .o of medicine,
•ad 1 have full conlldonce in your nblllty to
take all proper enro of my young ward I sup
pom you have found a suitable school for him
I shall ho Kind to hoar that ho Is doing well In
his studies, nbough on account of his not very
•Iron i constitution, previously re erred to. It
m ».v ho well not to press him too hard in tho i
way of study.
Let ms hoar from you rotpootln : Robert 's \
wolfuro. from time to time. j
, “Yours, Ac,. Paul Moiiton “
Jamas Cromwell road this lottor
twice over.
••lie’s a orafty olu spider,” ho said
to himself. *>Any one to road it
would think that he was vory solici
tous for the welfare of this boy. It
would be considered an excellent
letter by thoso who did not under
stand It. I am bphlnd the scones,
and 1 know just what it means. He
means to blame mo, because I didn’t
make a sure thing of It at Niagara
Falls, and hints pretty plainly about
some accident happening to him in
future. He is Impatient to hear of
his death, that is plain, and no
doubt he will gladly pay the amount
'■& he promised, as soon as ho receives
intelligence of it"
No James Cromwell, spurred by a
'i double motive, veered more and
more toward the accomplishment of
(he dark deed which would stain his
soul with bloodshed, and in return
give him the fleeting possession of
money and the girl whom ho loved.
Onoe resolved upon the deed, the
next consideration was the ways and
means of accomplishing it. .Should
he use poison I1 That seemed most in
his line, and he rogrettod that he
;; had not secured a supply of the
same subtile poison which Paul Mor
ton had purchased of him in the
fe email shop on the Bowery. There
was likely to be no one in that neigh
iV -borhood who possessed a surliciont
& medical knowledge to detect its
presence or trace its effects. But it
was rare and there was little chance
of his obtaining it unless by sending
to New Fork, and this would, of
>“ Itself, afford strung ground for sus
picion against him.
.Thun, as to the ordinary poisons,
. (heir effects upon the human system
’ were too well understood, even by
; ordinary physicians, for him to em
ploy them without great peril. He,
> decided, therefore, to abjure poisons
|s altogether. The fact that he was a
. druggist would render their use even
; xaore readily suspooled than in the
: mate of an ordinary person. One
’ aveulng while he was still pondering
this question, and much embarrassed
| about the deolslon of it, he ohanced
. to be returning home from a des
ultory walk which he had taken.
Now, in the town of Madison, some
f,' what centrally situated, or at least,
.One side of it was near the center of
i': the town, thore was a pond of about
, two miles in circuit. By the edge of
this pond James Cromwell met Hob
, art Raymond. Instantly an idea
P came into his mind, as casting his
eyes toward the pond, he saw a
> small boat tied by a rope round the
' • trunk of a tree.
r^V
^.“tiood evening, Mr. Cromwell,”
said Robert ••Hare you been talc*
Inn a walk?"
••Yes, but I have not been far.
When did you come out?”
“About halt an hour ago.”
••By the way, do you know how to
row?"
“A little."
“I waa thinking that \re^ might
borrow this boat and have a little
row on the pond. What do you say?”
“I should like it” said Robert
promptly, for he had a boy's love of
the water. “Shall I unfasten the
§|*"rea, I wish you would."
" ^Robert at onoe sprang to the tree,
and quickly untied the rope and set
the boat free.
• 'All ready, Mr. Cromwell!” he
cried. “Jump aboard, and I will get j
ftn afterward. ” I
James Cromwell stepped Into the j
(Mat his heart beating quldk with
the thought ol the deed which ho j
meditated. His courage almost failed
him. for he was of a timid nature, |
but the thought of the stake for ;
which he was playing renewed his
courage, and he resolved that, come
what might, that night should be !
Robert Raymond's last j
••Which of us shall row, Mr. Crom- I
troll?” asked Robert
. “I will row drat and you may do
CO afterward. ‘
- “All right’
Cromwell took his place, and rowed
. t
*
rather awkwardly until the boat
reached the middle oftbo pond.
"Shan't I take the oars now, Mr.
Cromwell?”
"Not quite yet. I am going to row
into that little recess over yonder.
You can row back.”
The outline of the pond was Irregu*
isr. In ono place thoro was a recess
surrounded by woods, within which
they would be shielded from view. It
seeniod a fitting place for a tragedy.
When they were fairly within it,
Cromwoll said:
"Now you may take the oars. ”
Kobort rose from his soat and
stepped toward the center of the boat,
ills movements were naturally rath
er unstoady. James Cromwoll turn
ed pale, and he braced his shrinking
norves. He felt that now was his
time. Unless ho acted now his op
portunity would be gone. As Robert
approached, ho suddenly seized the
unsuspecting boy around the middle,
and threw him into the water. So
suddenly was it done, that before the
boy understood what had happoned
to him he found himself engulfed.
Novor onco looking back. James
Cromwoll seized the oars, and rowed
himself swiftly back. When he got
on shore, he looked nervously out
over the surface of the pond. All
was still Nothing was vlsiblo of
Robert
“He is drowned!" said Cromwoll to
himself, wiping away the large drops
of porsplration from his forehead.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Cato.
.Such was tho tuddennoss with
which Robert had boon hurled into
the water that he had no chanco to
defond himself. Ilo was scarcely
conscious of having been attacked
until ho found himself in the water
struggling for life. Ho knew noth
ing of swimming from actual exper
ience, yet under tho stress cf neces
sity, and with death staring him in
tho face, he instinctively struck out.
and managed tomporariiy to keep his
head abovo wator. liut the shore
was a hundred yards distant, and to
reach it would have been beyond his
unskilled strength to accomplish, if
ho had not luckily happened to re
ceive assistance.
Unknown to Jntnos Cromwell, there
had been a spectator or his dastardly
attempt to drown the boy who had
been placed In his charge.
The spectator was an odd charac
ter: an old negro who years ago had
built for himself a ruc.e cabin in the
shadow of the woods. He had for
merly been a slave in Kentucky, but
had managed to escape from servi
tude, and built himself this cabin,
where be lived by himself. He sup
ported himself by working for any
one who needed help on the farm or
in the garden, and cooked his own
food in his simple dwelling.
••What dobble’s work is dis?” he
said to himself. “What’s he goin’ to
killde boy for? Can’t let de poor
boy drown, no way.”
As he spoke, ho flung himself into
the wator and swam with vigorous
strokes toward the place where Rob
ert was struggling.
“Hold up a minute, young massa.”
he cried, for In his freedom he pre
served the language of former days,
“hold up a minuto, and I’ll saveyer.”
Robert heard this, and it gave him
courage to struggle longer. In a
short time the negro was at his side
and seizing him by the arm, turned
and headed for tho shore. It was
soon roaohed, and the two stood side
by side, both dripping with moist
ure. Had James Cromwell turned
back he might have discovered the
rescue, but he did not dare to do so
until he reached the opposite side,
and then there was nothing to be
seen.
“What’s all this mean, young mas
sa?’’ asked Cato, for this was the
name of the negro. Ho had brought
no other with him, but one was quite
sufficient for his modest require
ments.
“I don’t know," said Robert “The
man that was with me suddenly
seized mo round the waist, and flung
me into the pond. ”
“I saw him do it," said Cato.
“What made him?"
“That’s more than I can tell, ua
less he is crazy," said Robert.
“Is dis de fust time ho try to
drown you?" asked Cato.
Robert startod as the force of this
question dawned upon him. He re
called the scene at Niagara Falls,
and the narrow escape he had from
a horrible doath at that time.
“No,” he answered, “he tried to
push me over Niagara Falls once, but
I thought it was an accident then. I
don’t think so now."
“You lib with him?"
“Yes: my guardian placed me with
him."- 1
• He s a wicked man. Don't you I
go nigh him again. ”
••I won’t,” said Robert. ••!
shouldn't (eel safe with him. But I
don’t know where to go to-night.”
••Come to my cabin!" said Cato.
“It’s a poor place for the likes of
you. young massa, but it’s better dan
sleepin' out in de woods.”
“Thanks, Cato,” said Robert, for
he knew who it was that had saved
him. “I will accept your invitation
gladly. Lead the way and I will fol
low.”
The negro's hut was near by. It
was small enough, being only about
ten feet square. On the floor was
spread a blanket over some straw.
Robert lay down on the rude bed,
and though excited by the peril
through which he had passed, and by
t e thought that James Cromwell
had been guilty of such an atrocious
attempt, nature at last asserted her
! supremacy, and he sank to sleep.
\ tV hen he awoke the sun had already
j risen. The first sight upon which
| his eyes rested was the black face of
his companion bending over him. He
| did not immediately remember where
! he was, and cried, raising his head,
“Where am I?”
•i-t:
“Hera, young massa, In Cato's
cabin," said the negra
“Yes, I remember now," said Sob*
ort.
I He sprang from his couch and
hastily put on his clothes. He found
that through the kind lorrices of the
negro they wore quite dry, though
his shirt bosom and cuffs presented a
limp appearance, the starch having
soaked out of thorn. This was, how
ever, a minor calamity, to which he
paid but little attention.
Whon he was dressed he turned to
go away, though ho hardly knew
where to direct his course.
“Stop," said Cato. “Cato havo
breakfast ready in a minute."
“Do you mean that I am to break
fast with you, Cato?"
“Yos, if young massa will be so
kind."
•T think the kindness is all on the
other side," said Robert, laughing.
“Yes, I will accept your invitation
with much pleasure; particularly as
I don't know where else to go for
any."
Cato appeared to consider that a
great favor had been granted to him
in acceptance of the invitation, and
he set to work zealously to prepare
a meal of which his young friend
might partake.
In tho course of an hour Cato pro
duced a breakfast consisting of hot
hoe cakes and fried eggs, which not
only had a very appetizing lluvor,
but stood tho test of eating remarka
bly well. Robert's peril of the pre
vious night had by no means injured
his appetlto, and he did full justice
to the breakfast provided. Cato
gazed with much satisfaction at the
evidences or his young guest’s relish
ing the repast provided, and ap
peared to regard it as a personal
compliment to himself.
While Robert was eating he was
considering his” future plans. He had
in his pocket the sum of $10; which
though soaked in water, he was able
to dry; and this, though insufficient
to deft ay his expenses would at least
start him on his journey. As to
what he might do after this was
exhausted, he did not know, but he
was buoyant in hope, and he felt
that it was no use to anticipate
trouble. Enough to meet it when it
came.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Day After.
James Cromwell came down to
breakfast on the morning succeeding
his attempt to drown our young hero,
with as composod a manner as his
norvous agitation permitted him to
assume.
"'“Where is our young friend?"
asked the landlady, for Cromwell and
Robert usually came in together.
“I have not seen him since sup
per," said Cromwell. “I was about
to ask you if you had seen anything
of him.”
“Was be not here last night?”
“No, 1 went to his room just now,
and found that his bed is untouched."
“That is strange," said Mr. Man
ton.
“I have felt quite troubled about
him," said Cromwell, hypocritically.
“Do you think anything has bo
fallon him?" asked the landlady.
•T think it more likolv that he has
run away," said Cromwell.
“He seemed to bo very quiet and
gentlemanly," said Mr. Manton.
“No doubt he seemed so,” said
Cromwell, “but his guardian when
he confided him to my charge, in
formed me that he was a hard case,
but exceedingly artful, so that no
one would suspect it He was op
posed to coming West with me. and
my impression is, that he has started
for New York secretly. I shall put
up a notice calling for information.
If I receive none I shall be compelled
to go on to New York myself and
give information to bis guardian of
his sudden disappearance.”
"You will be compelled to leave
your business. I should think that
would bo inconvenient,” said Mr.
Manton.
[TO BE CONTINUE*!.]
Agreed to Olg; h.nch others Graves.
The rocont death of Jack Odell, the
oldest grave digger in Passaic county.
New Jersey, brought to light an
agreement entered into fifty yoars
ago. when Undertaker Hiram Gould
interred the first body in the Sandy
Hill cemetery. Odell, who was then
the only grave digger in the neigh
borhood, agreed with Mr. Gould to
dig his grave and drive his hearse if
the undertaker should die first. Mr.
Gould made the same agreement
with Odell, and also said he would
pay the funeral expenses if Odell died
poor. Odell visited Gould’s estab
lishment about a year ago and said
he had saved enough to pay for his
funeral, and turned the money over
to the undertaker. Odell died a few
days ago. Mr. Gould, who is nearly
80 years old, dug the grave digger’s
grave and drove the hearse to the
oemetery—New York Press.
Of Coum,
Year after year, and all the time,
the criminal reports of the city aro
vastly more favorable to women than
to men. The law-breakers of the fe
male sex are but few here, in com
parison with those of the other sex.
After examining the police returns
for the first quarter of this year,
and comparing them with the re
turns of various terms of other years,
we are able to say that there is
statistical proof that the moraliza
tion of women is far superior to that
of mon—New York Sun.
Boarding House Item.
Visiting Friend—So you married
a total stranger from Boston. I
always expected you would marrv the
star boarder. He is such a nice,
quiet gentleman.
Mrs. Hashly—That’s the reason I
didn’t marry him. I don’t want to
lose that kind of a boarder. They
are too scarce.—Texas Siftings.
DAIRY-LIVE STOCK.
INTERESTING CHAPTERS FOR
OUR RURAL READERS.
How Successful Farmers Operate Their
Department of the Homestead—Hints
as to tha Caro of Lire Stock and
Poultry.
ProUt In Ten Cow*
Prof. II. II. Dean of the Ontario
agricultural college addressed a con
vention as follows:
Ten cows, perhaps, is the average
number which a farmer should have
before he will begin to realize that he
is dairying in earnest Where but
from three to five cows are milked,
they are usually looked upon as a side
track—“the women kin have ’em to
make a little pin money.” Too many
persons who own cows are playing at
the dairy business, just like children
who keep house go visiting and dress
dolls. Hut in order to main money
out of cows nowadays we need to study
and hustle.
The first requisite is that these ten
cows shall be owned and cared for by
a dairyman or dairy woman. You say,
“Oh, pshaw! that is easy enough.”
Well, now let us see whether it is or
not. The following are some of the
points of a good dairyman:
He lor she) should be neat, clean, a
good farmer, a good judge of cattle, a
good feeder, kind, thoughtful, and
should have business ability to buy
and sell to advantage. The next re
quisite is that these cows should
bo the very best cows that can be
had. Every one of them should be
a standard cow—cows that will give
0,000 pounds of milk or make 250
pounds of butter in a year, and as
much more than this as possible. To
get these cows, the surest way is to
breed them. Buy them if you can;
they are cheap at from $40 to $50 per
head. The third point is that these
cows shall be properly housed and
cared for, and be fed on cheap food.
The money lies between the cost of
production and the price obtained.
The former should be as low as possi
ble and the latter—well, all you can
get. Grass and soiling crops are good
for summer feed, with some bran or
meal when pastures fail; and for
winter use, silage, mangels, carrots,
sugar beets, clover hay, peas, oats,
bran, ground wheat, linseed and cot
tonseed meal. Give variety and all
that the cows will eat up clean.
After the milk has been produced in
the best and cheapest manner it
must then be marketed in the best
way. There is great loss where this
is not properly looked after. If con
siderable time, labor and money have
been spent up to this point, it is very
important that the latter part of the
business should be well handled.
After the needs of the family have
been properly looked after—and I do
not believe in selling the best and eat
ng the poorest at home—the rest is
usually disposed of in the four follow
ing methods:
1. Home Dairy.—To make a success
of this it is necessary to have plenty
of help, good utensils, proper milk
rooms, a knowledge of how to make
batter or cheese, or both, and a suit
able market for the product. If a
person is not near a factory or has a
market near by, with previously men
tioned requisites, it may be advisable
to engage in the home manufacture
of batter or cheese, otherwise, for
the mass of farmers, the factory plan
is better.
2. City or Town Milk Trade.—A
good city milk trade is very profitablei
By making specialties, such as bot
tling milk, pasteurizing milk, keeping
special cows for children and invalids,
supplying skim milk at reduced rates
and batter milk made from cream or
skim milk—this trade is very remun
erative. A great deal of labor is con
nected with the work, and where milk
is to be shipped to middlemen there is
often a great deal of risk in not get
ting money for milk shipped.
3. Creamery.—Creameries in Ontario
are of two classes—cream gathered
and separator. In the former cream
is only taken from the farm and the
skim milk left for feeding. This class
of creamery has an advantage where I
roads are poor and cows scattered. To
insure its success all the patrons
should provide deep cans and cold
water. A supply of ice is needed to
cool the milk below 45 degroea Cream
raised in this manner will not give so
high a test, but there will be more
inches of cream from the same num
ber of pounds of milk and it will pro
duce a finer article of butter. High
testing cream and ordinary shaUow
pan cream are a hindrance to the but
termaker in a cream gathering cream
ery. It is necessary in this kind of a
creamery, as in all co-operative dairies,
that all the patrons should co-operate
to make theirs one of the very best
One patron can not make the reputa
tion of a factory, though one mav
mar it
If the separator creamery is patron
ized,milk should be sent of (rood qual
ity-well aerated and cooled—and the
skim milk should he fed to calves and
pigs, in order to reap the greatest
profits. As a rule there is more money
made from milk sent to a separator
than to a cream-gathering creamery,
as the cream is more completely taken
out of the milk hy the separator than
by the ordinary method of setting.
Beef . and butter make a very good
combination, hence in beef raising
sections the creamery is more popular
than the cheese factory.
4. Cheese Factory.—In sections
where factories pay hy the hundred,
to make money out of cows (and out of
your neighbors) get those cows that
give a large quantity and send every
drop of it to the factory—Saturday
nighta and Sunday mornings included.
i
i
You will doubtless have some neigh
bors that sell cheap butter. Buy
from them and send your milk away.
That’s the way to make money out of
cheese. A well managed joint stock
company usually pays big her dividends
to patrons than a private factory. If
the factory divides proceeds by test it
will pay to keep a few cows that give
very rich milk to bring up the average
of the whole. Cheese factories have
paid well in the province. Support
the factory if there is one in the lo
cality. It is somewhat difficult to raise
calves in cheese factory sections, but
by having the best cows drop their
calves some time before the factory
opens, fairly good calves may be
reared. The dairy cow and the hog
make a combination that it is difficult
to surpass. Not only do they pay well,
but they are a “combine” that does
not take anything unjustly from any
one else. Give us more cow-hog com
bines and we’ll not hear of so many
farmer farm separations.
Pointer* on OtH*
An exchange says: Three or foui
geese to a gander are all that should
be allowed, if the object is to breed
for eggs for hatching.
It is advisable to set the eggs early
in the season, as the most vigorous
young are obtained from the early
broods
When the goslings are hatched they
should be cooped with their mother,
and fed on fresh tender grass, cut
fine, also chopped cabbage and a small
quantity of dough made from corn
meal. Drinking water should be sup
plied in a shallow dish.
When about three weeks old they
should be let out during fine weather
and fed with only a little meal, twice
a day, and at the age of six weeks
whole grain can be substituted.
Grass is as much the natural food of
the goose as the cow, and when let
run they will naturally take to it.
However. II. II. Stoddard savs the
tamed Canada goose and the long
necked Chinese goose depend less up
on grass, finding much of their food
in marshes and shallow water.
The same authority says: “In win
ter the supply of grain must of course
be greatly increased, but it should be
accompanied by some form of green
fodder. Apples are useful, one being
allowed daily to each bird; the cheaper
sorts may be stored in autumn for
this purpose. Rowen, cut fine, well
soaked during several hours, and
sprinkled with meal is a valuable ar
ticle. Bulk may be obtained by using
whole or ground coarse bran and oats.
Geese, to be profitable, must have
water for swimming as well as drink
ing purposes, but their range should
be confined or the birds will swim
away. Geese are very destructive to
grass, eating some and tramping
down a great deal more. They should
have a pasture to themselves, and can
be shut in with a fence, tight near the
ground. They will not generally fly
more than four or five feet up, and if
disposed to go higher than this their
wings may be clipped.
Geese can be plucked three times a
year in the south, but not more than
twice in the eastern states, and once
or twice in the west If plucked too
near freezing weather they suffer
from the cold and do not thrive.
The Winter Dairy Cow In Sommer.
I am disappointed in one thing con
nected with winter dairying, says a
writer in an exchange. My plan has
been to dry off the cows in July and
turn them off to pasture, but it is get
ting more and more difficult ever;
year to dry them off soon enough to dc
thia This year I could not get them
dried up till within three weeks of the
time some of them were to come in,
and I had to milk them once while
they were away. Next year I intend
to keep them at home and give them
millet and corn fodder and milk them
as long as they will give any. It looks
as though they were going to develop
into perpetual milkers and not give my
wife and myself any vacation. Why is it
that cows which come in in the spring
will dry up so fast in July and August,
while cows which come in in the pre
ceding October are such persistent
milkers, is something I do not under
stand. I have a Jersey cow that has
•given milk seventeen months and is
coming in in less than a month, yet
she gives over a quart a day. On the
other hand, the summer cow due to
come in in March or April dries up in
December or perhaps in November
without any trouble. You have only
to turn her out to eat frost bitten
grass, with a good north wind blow
ing and the thermometer at 20 or be
L°"’ “d 8^e will dry up fast enough.
She will when thus treated dry up the
owner’s pocketbook as well. What
effect this persistent milking will
have on the calves I can not tell and
do not especially care. I have seen
no ill effects yet, and when I do it will
be time enough to think about this
part of the matter.
Abwfictal Milk.-The Cincinnati
limes-Star announces that a chemist
or that city has succeeded in making
a fluid which has all the properties of
ordinary cow’s milk, and is equal to
toe best for all purposea It is a com
bination of water, solids and fats, and
is absolutely the same as, and indis
tinguishable from pure milk, and has
the advantage of being absolutely
free from the diseases and impurities
that are often found in milk. This chem
ical milk will raise a cream, will sour,
turn to curd and water, and butter
and cheese can be made from it the
same as from cow’s milk. At present
the cost of production is more than Si
a gallon, but the chemist believes with
a few more experiments he can reduce
the price to 10 or 15 cents a gallon
and by making it in wholesale quanto
ties can retail it at the usual e cents a
quart.
The Fondaat Boor Memory Heeelia,
The question naturally suggests itself
Which Is “the fondest hour memory ^
calls?" Has the reader, whose attention »"
hope to engage, ever had a controversy with
his stomach on the subject of dyspengu
After convincing proofs that the digestin'
organ has got the upper hand, has a where!
sort been made to Hosletter’s Stomach Bit.
ters? If so, the “fondest hour" has been re
called by memory In the shape of a lastlu
resumption of the power to digest, asslmt
late thoroughly and eat heartily without
fear of being uncomfortable afterward
When the dinner bell, that “tocsin of th»
soul,” strikes agreeably upon the ear th«
auditor then greets It as a welcome sound
and hustcns to obey Its summons. The bit
ters, to renowned as a stomachic, oVercoms
too, malaria, bilious and kidney trouble
and remedy nervousness, rbeumutism ay
sick headache. “
Fortune's Wheel.
Louis Prang, the famoua chromo
lithographer, was a Prussian calico
printer at the age of 18, and was trav.
cling through Europe for a Bohemian
manufactuser, when the revolution o{
1848 broke out. He was obliged to fle«
to Switzerland, and then came to New
York in 1850. He did so poorly in one
business that he sold out all his righti
after a year’s hard work for $25, but
with that $25 he got together capital
which in after years enabled him to
start a little lithographing shop, it
was illness that caused him to relin
quish his trade of wood engraving and
started him in the line that brought
him fame and fortune.—Cincinnati
Times-Star.
New Way of 8ervlng Pineapple.
Where the pineapple is very fine and
ripe, it may be brought to the table
whole; it is a pretty dish, and can be
served by digging1 out the eyes, one or
two at a time, with a cheese scoop or
pointed spoon. The sections will be
found to run clear to the center, and
will split as readily as those of an or
ange. This method of serving a pine
apple is that always used in England
for the fine hot house fruit, which
never costs less than half a guinea
Pineapple thus served is eaten by hold
ing in the hand and dipping the pieces
in sugar, in the manner familiar to us
for strawberries.
When we get in the wrong place our right
place is empty.
That Tired Feeling
Is due to an impoverished condition of the blooi
It should be overcome without delay, and the
best way to accomplish this result is to tali
Sarsa
parilla
J-good’s
Hood's Sarsaparilla,
whloh will purify and
vitalize the blood, give
strength and appetite
and produce sweet and refreshing sleep. Be sun
to get Hood’s Sarsaparilla, and only Hood's.
Hood’s Pills cure nausea and biliousness.
Cures
<%%%%%>
Iely’s CREAM balm cures
CATARRH
PRICE 50 CENTS. ALL DRUGGISTS]
JU IS ■ ■ This Crop li a Failure
■ ■ SB SM U all over the West and not
I ll Iup to an average any
Mm ■ !■ where. Wheat Is now at
lowest price of 40 years.
Here are two Ufe-time opportunities to apecu
late. You can buy 1,000 bushels on 110 margin
and get the benefit of all navaneer same aa
If bought outright. Send for our free booklet
“How to Trade.”
C. F. VAN WINKLE A CO.,
Room 45, 234 La Salle St., Chicago.
Fiflo;
Model 1893
Slade in ai-40 and 83-55 calibre*. The only repeater
on ihe market for these cartridge.
tight fSf9937X3tifYSI **
Weight, |n9y3al||JS|S| IrtiA
Solid TnSaM^ileetlo^^aSeln^^k^ovn.*
\V rite for catalogues to
ThsHarlin Fire Anns Co., |5f
New Haven, Conn.. U flft ■■
W. L. Douclas
$3 SHOE
IS THE BEST.
NO SQUEAKING
FRINCH&ENAMELLED CALF: ’
FINE CALP&KAN6ARDH
) $3.5? POLICE, 3 Soles.
*2 Boys'SchoolShqesl
•LADIES*
pi i.u' rwn \
a i ri.uu wi.
W*!.* DOUGLAS 9
BROCKTON, MASS*
You can oavo money by wearing the
W. L. Douglas $3.00 Shoo*
Because, we are tho largest manufacturer* ol
this grade or shoes la the world, and guarantee dial*
▼alue by stamping tho namo and price on tbi
bottom, which protect you against MghprlcesM11
the middleman’s profits. Our oboes equal custom
work In style, easy fitting and wearing qualities,
we have them oeld everywhere at lower price* for
the value given than any other make. Take no sub1
atitute. If your dealer cannot aupply you, wo can.
mailed FREE
•<
•» Fanner or Farmer'! Wife
Up to Date Dairying*
containing full initructioa kwtoiM
Higher Prado Products, make
POKE BUTTER -A., BETTER PRICE
•mJwwi Less Laborn flore Money
*m,Bmt**""•^31talngh^7«c«leelmelln«...
™* NOIIM*l»DY (rateee) SYSTEM,
Danish dairy System ...
......_. Elgin Separator Systim
•men Hare brought prosperity and eus to the dairy Unner.
mJSlrJJ* *v? Mailed FREEo.
K *c,d **,res« of neighboring lionr"
»ho own row.. Addre.a R. LESNNASSB,
f: !*• *** Y Columbian dr 24A Vf Lane Sr
UUnou Dairy AasociaUosa. *** W# “JJ JoMO
WELL MACHINERY
81ou City Bnalne ft iron Worka,
Bueeeaaora to Pooh Mfg. Co.,
miDukm AT.-E^U'iT,'ir*
fiFEW«,"fsa“
K A14 Soy* war f drawer mint .o'*
D i w.f *rm mefeeroror ma*}1?
Hnod, Brdehed, „klal .laid,adapted le
J!} ‘ *7’"*1 gerreetaed for lOYeml » '*
i2TK.l?£,iSr
FREE €V.2!,,0;‘;*4
Jiweifa* 0»*S«I5u?World'.
OXFORD IFF. CO. 342 Wabash in. CHICAGO,ILL*
«.NSIOM^hn w.nonB|S»
wr H Washington,
ffisBBassfflsr
Df
■ 3 jrai
r£&
slues
MARRUBE CJ5s* 1-M* jwi
” * R«e o/rare heefce. aeeelllre.ru ,
*»••• GUNNEL’S MONTHLVrToMdO. ’ON’*’