j THAT GIRL of JOHNSON’?!
By JEA.fi KATE LVBLVM.
Author of "At a Girl's Mercy." Etc.
Entered According to Act of Congress in the Year 1890 by Street & Smith,
la the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
to ther way ye waste yer time while 1
am away. Curse ye! Yer mother was
fool 'nough, but ye're worse.”
She rose up slowly to her full height
and confronted him. Her soul was In
her eyes and his shrank from it.
"Father, say what you like of mo;
you shall not say nothing of my
mother; she is beyond your power
now.” ,
The book had slipped from his hand
and fallen to the ground; he kicked it
contemptuously. The flash deepend
in her eye. but she had had her say,
and sat down. The moonlight was
on her face and hair; her shadow lav
long and dark behind her.
Lavina Ketcham made a gentle
wife; she gave up much for peace,
and at first she had loved her hus
band; afterward she found out his
brute nature. Her nature was fine,
and she was true to hint always, but
love was out of the question then. He
--—-1
A STAND FAT SPEECH
SENATOR HANNA TO THE OHIO
REPUBLICAN CONVENTION.
“Human Liberty and Protection to
Our Labor and Industries.” “Let
Well Enough Alone; for God’s Sake
Keep Letting It Alone!"
The Republican party Is fortunate
In the character and quality of Us
leadership. It Is fortunate In having
as chairman of its National Committee
a man of the stamp of Hon. Marcus
A. Hanna. The need of the hour is
stalwart, uncompromising Republican
ism on the part of the men intrusted
with the duty of directing the party’s
politics. Senator Hanna is nothing if
not straightforward and practical. He
does not know what It is to be am
biguous or evasive. Of himself he
might truly say:
I am no orator, as Brutus Is;
But. as you know me all, a plain, blunt
man,
I only speak right on.
To be a plain, blunt man, and to
speak right on, is an admirable char
acteristic in a campaign leader and
manager. Senator Hanna never ex
hibited these valuable traits to better
advantage than in his speech before
the Ohio Republican State convention
June 3, 1903. Such a speech was most
opportune. It was time that some big
man—the bigger the better—stood up
and proclaimed the dignity, the glory
and the splendid record of unadulter
ated Republicanism; time to show a
jast pride in the party’s principles and
achievements, without apology, quali
fication or saving clause of any kind.
Senator Hanna was the right man in
the right place. A lifelong member of
the American Protective Tariff League,
this virile Ohioan is a believer in the
doctrine and policy of protection
through and through, first, last and
all the time. He does not think the
Dlngley tariff “shelters monopoly;” he
knows that It does not. He does not
recognize the present, existence or
probable occurrence of anything In the
^11— 1 ■■
they are very foolish ones. A party
1s seldom able to win victory by taking
the position that logically belongs to
the other party.
RepuMtcans have no feason to be
dissatisfied with what has been accom
plished under protection In recent
times. They can continue to point to
It with pride. They do point to it
with pride.—Cedar Rapids Republican.
Very Different.
During these discussions of revision
of the tariff It should be distinctly r«*
membered that there Is little if any
more similarity between the Demo
cratic idea of tariff reform and the
Republican idea of changing the tariff
than there is between the old Demo
cratic tariff for revenue only Idea,
which has been popularly known as
free trade, and the Republican policy
of thorough protection to American in
dustries. As Hon. Sterling Morton,
President Cleveland's Secretary of Ag
riculture, said, he would burn down
every custom house In the land. The
Republican party has favored a high
tariff primarily for the protection and
uplifting of American industries and
Incidentally to provide necessary rev
enue for running the government. The
Democratic Idea on the other hand has
always been that we should have free
trade or just as near free trade as it
was possible to construct tariff sched
ules so as to provide the necessary in
come for government expenses.—War
ren (Ohio) Chronicle.
WHY TAMPER WITH IT?
Discard Theory and Accept the Facts
of History.
It has long been a favorite doctrine
among protectionists that their policy
was necessary for the purpose princi
pally of affording “Infant Industries" a
chance to get a foothold at home
against the competition of foreign
products of pauper labor. That, every
body recognizes as a familiar formula
once vigorous enough, but now de
crepit with years and employment.
The Journal has but little concern
about tho theories, the party cries or
any of the usual forms of "jawing"
■————■—wr.a-i
I POULTRY!
#
Raising Bronze Turkeys.
From Farmers' Review: Among
the many things learned in my expe
rience with the bronze turkeys, I will
name briefly u few. In the success
ful breeding of a stock of turkeys
the most essential point is vigor, then
size and then fine markings of
plumage. The fancier must consider
size, because nine out of every ten
want size. I have had the best suc
cess with pullets of from 16 to 20
pounds, and old hens, 18 to 23 pounds.
They lay eggs of more fertility than
larger hens. They are more active
and healthy and make better moth
ers. The extremely large and over
fat hens generally lay odd-shaped
eggs and but few of them and often
break them. The tom has more In
fluence on shape and color of off
spring than does the female. He
should be as near perfection In typi
cal carriage and color of plumage as
is possible to get, and of medium
size and plenty of vigor. I like a
tom of the pit game nature, as they
are sure to get good healthy pullets.
A good vigorous tom will mate with
18 or 20 hens. Turkey hens should .
be very carefully fed, If fed at all
during laying season. Turkeys that
have free range do not need much
feed, as they can pick 'up nearly all
they need, unless It is a large flock.
It Is a good plan to feed meat once
a week, as it has a tendency to make
the eggs more fertile. In the rearing
of young turkeys, never let the young
ones get wet. The slightest damp
ness is fatal. Nine-tenths of young
turkeys die from lice. Dust them
with Insect powder three times a
week. Also the mother. Feed on ’
rolled oats, corn pone, millet seed and
curds. Ground bone and fine gravel
should be provided. I have had best
results by fencing off large parks
with poultry netting and keeping my
flocks of turkeys In them during the
breeding Beason. This saves the
watching and long walks for the eggs.
If confined, the turkeys must be fed
a balanced ration. Successful turkey
raising, like all other occupations,
comes from putting good common
sense Into practice and watching the
details.—Elmer Glmlin, Christian
County, Illinois.
Land for Poultry Culture.
Poultry culture has the advantage
over most other kinds of farming
operations in that little land is re
quired for extensive operations and
that land unusable for anything else
may be made serviceable for poultry
raising. For the production of food
for poultry of couse good land is re
quired, but for their runs any kind of
land will do. It is possible to take
a sandy waste and use it to advantage
in providing runs for poultry. When
it comes to the question of allotlng
land for the support of a large flock
of poultry it is rather difficult to get
down to a business basis. This is
largely because the food of the poultry
comes largely from waste products.
For instance there Is the supply of
bone and meat scraps from the
butchers, which will make a consider
able part of the feed. The use of this
reduces the land requirements for sus
taining the flock. Other waste prod
ucts can be utilized which all works
in the same direction. On the farm
the land requirement for poultry cul
ture is comparatively small even when
flocks of considerable size are kept.
This is especially true of water fowls,
where there is a stream or lake acces
sible. Leaving out the question of
producing food for the poultry, one
acre will be found sufficient for 200
hens, If they be kept in small flocks.
This land may be made to grow a
good deal of green stuff, if each yard
be divided into two and the fowls per
mitted for forage on the green stuff
in one part of the yard while a new
supply is growing in the other.
Overfat Hens.
From Farmers’ Review: In speak
ing of our experience with overfat
hens, would say that it is rather dis
asterous to ourselves as well as the
hens. We find that when hens be
gin to lay on fat they get lazy and
want to sit around. They either stop
laying altogether or else lay small
infertile eggs with germs so weak
that the chicks die in the shell. If
they stop laying, the little eggs Inside
get hard and are overgrown with fat
which Anally forms a sort of a tumor.
They get short of breath and the least
excitement makes something give
way and they die. If they escape this
growth they get conjestion of the
liver, which very soon kills them.
We think the best thing to do with
an overfat hen is to cook her, un
less she is a hen of extra value. In
:hls case it is best to take her in hand
it once, giving her a few doses of
spsom salts, feeding her plenty of grit
md only enough other food to keep
ler from starving for a few days.
Make her work for what little she gets
out of course rhe must not be made
o suffer. One must use judgment
»bout this as well as other matters.
We And that fat hens do not eat as
uuch as others.—Jos. Belsley & Son,
Peoria County, Illinois.
In the Smithsonian institution at
Washington is an ear of corn found
with a mummy in a grave in Peru,
t must have been placed there hun
ireds of years before the discovery
jf this country by white men. The
kernels are arranged on the cob in
ihirteen rows.
CHAPTER I.
The Girl.
The day was dreary when she was
born, not only because the rain was
falling in a drizzling fashion and a
mist hung over the hills, but because
she was born. Her mother, having
a soft heart, felt all her tenderness
awaking for her weak daughter, and
gathered her into her arms with a half
pitying caress. But her mother did
not live long, and some of her friends
went so far as to say that it was well
she did not, for she would have spoiled
the girl.
Her father—well, there was no dan
ger of her father spoiling the girl
with tenderness. He considered her
birth one of the blows fate dealt him,
and he said he had had many blows
from fate. He said fate was against
him; people said he was shiftless; they
said also that there was hardly a
doubt that the girl would be the same.
None of the Johnsons amounted to
much—at least that branch of the fam
ily. Lemuel Johnson, this man's
brother, was rich, rumor said, and they
did not blame him for having nothing
to do with his shiftless brother. He
lived in a fine house in New York;
was enterprising and shrewd; how
could anyone blame him for dropping
this ne’er-do-well brother?
His brother thought differently.
Lemuel was rich; fate had been good
to him; it was but right that he should
help him; it was an unheard of thing
that he had never offered to help him,
especially when this added burden was
laid upon his already too heavily laden
shoulders. Of what good to him was
a girl? Girls were of little use. Had
she been a boy—but she was not a
boy, and she was motherless from the
time she was three weeks old.
With a pathetic appreciation of the
fitness of things her mother named
her Dolores. And from the time she
was taken from the dying mother’s
arms her large brown eyes, shaded
by long curling lashes, looked out upon
the world with a strange gravity and
a knowledge of what it meant to be
brought into the world unwelcome and
unloved.
She seldom cried. She never cooed
as other and happier babies do. And
as she grew older silence grew upon
her. She said little and the neighbors
seldom ran in to gossip with her as they
did with each other, for there was
no use; she took no interest in them
or their gossip; no one could talk
easily with her eyes upon them. So
when she grew old enough to attend
to the household matters herself, they
left her alone; even the children of
her own age dropped her as though
she had been dead.
She was an excellent cook, and kept
the house well. In these things her
father had no fault to find. He sel
dom spoke to her; if the food were
well cooked he never found fault; he
never praised it or her; he ate his
meals in silence, and went out of the
house. She saw him only at meal
times; his evenings were spent at the
tavern; hers were spent at home
f777^7777!3^ I
t like all other young fellows, fond of
hunting and all athletic sports, but a
strength like this man's he had never
before seen. Green was a man. and
men admire strength. The mouth was
sullen under the scant gray mustache;
the eyes were small, and showed a
possible cruelty of nature—brute cruel
ty; the forehead was low and narrow.
There was not an intellectual line in
his face.
A wrinkle of puzzled thought ap
peared between the young man's
brows. He turned and looked long
and earnestly up the path that led to
the tiny unpainted house set in its
dreary garden a short distance up the
mountain.
Dolores was standing in the door
way, her arms hanging down in front
of her, her fingers clasped listlessly
together. The sunlight was on her
dark head; her brown eyes were look
ing straight before her, and there was
a light in her face that fairly trans
formed it. Usually there was little
light in her face. Her lips were part
ed as though she had been speaking of
pleasant things.
Young Green took off his hat, and
ran his fingers through his fair hair.
The wrinkle of perplexity appeared
and deepened between his brows.
“Johnson is she your daughter?”
The blacksmith straightened up in
surprise. No one had ever before
asked about Dolores. With the back
of his hand he wiped the drops from
his grimy face.
“She my darter? Wal, I reckon. My
cursed luck thet she warn't a boy;
boys is o' use.”
A flash came into the clear blue
eyes watching him. “Cursed luck?
Man, you should thank your lucky star
that she is a woman—and such a wo
rn^! Where did she get her learn
ing?1’
“Learnin’ ?”
The man was bewildered; he laughed
scornfully. “She ain’t never had no
learnin’ ’s far as I know. Thar ain’t
no use in learnin’—’t least I ain’t
never seen no use o' it. Wimmen
’specially air better off ’thout it.
Hyar’s yer mare reddy. Fine mare,
she. A shillin’, sir; thank ’ee.”
The mare was full of life and spirits,
and a beautiful animal. When her
master mounted she reared and
plunged; her tail swept the scanty
grass at the door, her long silky mane
swept his face; her eyes were flash
ing, her nostrils dilated.
The girl in the dooway lost her list
less attitude. She came down the
steps, and called to him. and her voice
—peculiarly penetrating, but full of
rare sweetness—sounded like a note
of music on the sultry air. He smiled
at her. With a tight rein and a calm
word he quieted the mare, then he
rode up to the girl. His voice was
pleasant; to her it sounded grave and
almost sweet.
“The mare is gentle as a kitten; she
would not harm me for the world. It is
only one of her tricks. You are as
fond of animals as of astronomy, are
you not, Miss Johnson?”
Her gaze had strayed down to the
shop. Her father was standing in the
doorway rubbing his hands on his
leathern apron and watching them.
The flash died out of her eyes, the
flush from her face; the listlessness
had returned.
His gaze involuntarily followed hers.
He received no reply from her, and
expected none; he understood with a
rare instinct.
When he had ridden away she stood
a long time at the gate. The far
away look was in her eyes as she
watched the black mare and her rider
until the haze from the mountain hid
them from view.
When her father came into dinner
he watched her as she prepared the
table; he watched her as she ate.
His eyes were on her constanly; she
knew it, but gave no sign.
As he took up his hat to return to
the shop he turned and asked, abrupt
ly, but with little show of interest:
“How old air ye, girl?”
Her large eyes looked through and
through him; her gaze was steady, his
wavered; her voice, too, was steady
and slow :
“I am twenty, father.”
“Curse the girl!” he muttered, as he
passed down the worn path to the
shop with no haste in his slouching
gait. “Curse all ther wimmen! Borned
fools, every one of 'em! Jest my luck
thet she warn't a boy; boys Is o’ use!”
CHAPTER III.
Her Learning.
Dolores was sitting on the door
steps one evening. Her father was at
the tavern as usual, and as her house
hold duties were finished she sat in
the mellow moonlight that flooded the
mountain with raidiance. She was no
longer listless. Her lips were parted;
her eyes larger and darker than usual;
her face, raised to the starry heavens,
was full of light. On her knees lay
an old astronomy, and one slender
Anger marked the place of her read
ing.
She was lost to herself and her sur
roundings; she did not hear the heavy
footsteps approaching along the nar
row path; she saw nothing until a
rough hand pulled the book from under
her fingers. A deep oath smote the
air.
“Curse ye!” her father muttered, be
tween his clenched teeth. “Curse ’em
as invented books an’ learnin’! Thes
— I
He watched her face.
forbade her the use of her books, and
in that only she would not obey him.
For a nature like hers to die men
tally or even stagnate was impossible.
She was above him as the stars she
loved were above her, and she knew
it, and he knew it also; he hated her
for it.
She was a school teacher, and aa
school teachers did not thrive that side
of the mountain he offered her a home,
and she accepted his offer, believing
him noble because of this generous
act, as women will believe of the men
they love until they have been proved
otherwise, when the sweet if rather
blind faith in them can never return
once being destroyed.
Her daughter inherited her nature
only in a far higher degree. Her hus
band knew it, and the neighbors knew
it. Never, however, did the girl’s
father know that her mother’s books
were her constant companions; that
she lived in them and on them; that
nearly tavery word of theirs was known
to her by heart.
Betsy Glenn had been her mother’s
schoolmate and friend. Betsy Glenn
taught Dolores with all the power she
was capable. She had long been dead,
but the seed she sowed grew and
grew; some time it would ripen and
bear fruit.
Had her father known of this ho
would have stopped it from the first.
He did not know it, for he had never
taken enough Interest in her to know
it. Had he asked her she would have
told him. but he never asked.
The jealousy he had already felt to
ward his wife for her love of books
seethed and scorched in his heart as
he stood facing her daughter and his.
She possessed not one of his traits;
the mother’s nature had deepened ten
fold in kis daughter.
(To Be Continued.)
BARBER WHO WAS A KING.
Nervous Customer Jumped at Con
clusion and Fled.
A queer reminiscential gleam crept
into the eyes of the barber, with the
long, low, rakish forehead, as he sud
denly rested his razor hand while
shaving the Adam’s apple of the lean,
nervous-looking man in the c-halr.
“I was King Louis XIV. of France
last night,” said the barber, suddenly,
the razor still poised about half an
Inch above the lean customer's Adam's
apple.
The customer blinked and breathed
hard. The shaved side of his face
became nearly as white as the still
lathered other side.
“Wait a minute," he said, placing a
shaking hand on the barber’s shaving
arm. He up sat straight in the chair
with a wild look, and then made a bolt
for the door.
“Wow!” he yelled as he went. “What
an escape! King Louis XIV! Bug
house! He wouldn’t have done a thing
to me—” and, witn the towel stream
ing in the breeze and one side of his
face still lathered, he loped down the
street.
The barber with the long, low, rak
ish forehead went to the door and
stared after the galloping customer
with amusement.
“Well, I’ll be dad-binged!” muttered
the barber. “Now what kind o’ cogs
has that feller got in his conk? I was
on’y tryin’ to tell him that I was King
Louis XIV. at the barbers’ masquerade
ball last night, and look at him goln’
after Salvator’s mile record!"—Wash
ington Post.
The Real Cause.
Maude—“What makes you so aw
fully nervous, dear?”
Clara—"Why, Fred is to have an in
terview with papa this afternoon.”
Maude—"Oh, and you are afraid your
father will no* give his consent?”
Clara—No; I’m afraid Fred won’t
show up.”
LOOKS AS THOUGH HE'D BEEN LEFT.
(X^VA/VVVVVVAA/VVVVV/VVVVVVA/VVS *■>
nature of “shifting needs” that now
do or are likely to call for any aban
donment, any abatement, any relaxa
tion of the system of protection to
American labor and industry. Here 1b
the pith and the core of Mark Hanna’s
position on tariff tinkering:
“Is there anybody in this great au
dience—aye, is there anybody in the
State of Ohio—who hesitates for one
moment, under all the conditions
which have gone before, under all the
environments of the present, under all
the hopes of the future, to see one
single cause as to why the Republi
can party should change one iota in
those principles? (Long continued
cheering.)
"Human liberty, protection to Amer
ican industries and our workingmen.
(Renewed applause.) We started that
slogan many years ago. It went forth
and reached the hearts of every fire
side In the land, and If we needed any
additional tribute, or an accessory to
add to the luster of that monument,
it would be the continuation of hap
piness and contentment perceptible
everywhere around us. I once said,
‘Let well enough alone.’ (Applause.)
For God’s sake keep letting it alone!”
(Renewed applause.)
That is the gospel that Republicans
want to hear. That is the doctrine to
preach from every Republican pulpit.
Let protection alone. Let the tariff
alone. “Let well enough alone! For
God's sake keep letting It alone!”
It Belongs to Democrats.
Changing a tariff schedule that hap
pens to be more or less out of harmony
with the time is quite a different thing
from “tarifT reform.” When Samuel
J. Tilden was alive the modified Mor
rill law was in force. It was in force
when Grover Cleveland was president
for the first time. The Morrill law
was changed twenty-three times, but
these changes in schedules did not
prevent “tariff reform” from being the
slogan of the democracy under both
Tilden and Cleveland. In other words,
“tariff reform” is quite different from
changing a schedule that is out of
time. “Tariff reform” is the Demo
cratic version of the Industrial issue.
It was then, is now and will continue
to be. Republicans might as well stay
on their own side of the issue, for
when It comes to the next national
campaign they will either have to
stand for protection, without apologies,
or compete with Democrats on their
side of the discussion.
We are aware that there are some
Republicans who imagine that their
party by taking the Democratic posi
tion in part will be able to crowd the
Democrats off the political map. But
over the pros and cons of protection as
a national policy. Most of these con
tentions are the merest emptiness and
ordinarily serve to vex the air and
zpen’s ears to no conclusive purpose.
As the Journal has said before, the
record made by the operation of the
protective tariff In this country is the
only absolutely determining proof of
results. Every American citizen knows
what that has been; he knows that
under the tariff the American republic
has steadily, rapidly, substantially,
permanently advanced in wealth pro
ducing prosperity in a manner and to
an extent approached by no other peo
ple in the world’s history. It is true,
that, incidentally, domestic manufac
tures have been made possible and
that they are fostered by the tarlfT,
but who believes that to have been
all that the tariff has done? And who
believes that prices of protected prod
ucts have in any single instance been
sustained as a result solely of protec
tion? At a time when the country
was solely dependent upon Great Brit
ain for free wire nails, English wire
nails sold for $6; under a later duty
of $6 a keg, home-made wire nails sold
for less than $1 a keg. The duty on
lumber is a factor in this great system
that has brought the American people
unparalleled employment and wealth
—why tamper with it? Of what con
sequence is theory when pitted against
the teachings of events?—The Lumber
Trade Journal.
Who Will Do the Dodging?
“No political maneuvers or evasions
will prevent the tariff from being the
issue of the next presidential contest.
Its shadow fs already in the door.”—
Philadelphia Record.
If there are any poltical maneuvers
or evasions to keep the tariff out of
next year’s presidential contest they
will be on the side of the Democrats.
Republicans are not afraid of the
tarlfT as an issue. They will welcome
it as the governing issue. The Dem
ocrats may dodge and straddle in de
fining their tariff policy. Very likely
they will. But not the Republicans.
Their convention declaration will, we
predict, be for straight protection
without apologies or “trust sheltering”
admissions.
The Idea.
The main Iowa idea appears to be
to get something. They are after the
vice presidency now.—Philadelphia
Press.
Anti-Microbe.
Prosperity has been an effective
anti toxin in fighting the microbe of
Populism.—Albany Evening Journal.
“Did ye get ther water?”
mending his clothes or doing whatever
was to be done.
And to every one in the village—out
of it she knew no one—she was sim
ply "that girl of Johnson’s.”
CHAPTER II.
The Stranger.
When Dolores was twenty her father
Awoke to the fact that she was no
longer a child. The knowledge of her
age and comliness came to him sud
denly one day.
Johnson was a blacksmith, and
young Greea, whose father was judge
1 in the town across the mountain, was
riding up the valley when his mare
cast a shoe, and he stopped at the
shop to have it replaced.
The day was warm and sultry, and
after a few minutes young Green asked
for some water. Johnson sent him to
the house for it, saying that Dolores
would give it to him. Green returned
In a few minutes. There was a strange
expression on his face, and he did not
enter the shop at once; he stood in the
doorway, watching the hammer fall on
the glowing iron.
Green had a college education, and
Mb friends were to a certain extent