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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 29, 1906)
NOVEMBER AILMENTS THEIR PREVENTION AND CURE N<mrob«r is the month of fulling «»niper»tnre». Over all the temperate region* the hot weather has passed and the flr»t rigors of winter nave appeared. Aa the great bulk of civilised nations is located in the Temperate Zones, the -effect of cbimg Tbe Human System ing srieons is a Must Adjust Itself <Ju';sti<m • of 1,10 . highest, impor to Changing Tcm when tlm per a Lures. weather begins .. 1 ■■ " to change from warm to cold, when cool nights succeed ho* night*, when dear, cold days follow feot, buJtry days, the hum in body must adjust kaeJf to this changed condition at perish. The perspiration incident to warm weather has been checked. This detains within the system poisonous materials which have heretofore found escape ■through the perspiration. Most of the poisonous materials re tained in the system by the checked perspiration find their way out of the body, if at all, through the kidneys. This throws upon the kidneys extra labor. They become charged und over loaded with the poisonous excretory dialer! ala. This has a ten lency to in flame the kidneys, producing functional diseases of the kidneys and sometimes JBright’s Disease. Peruna acts upon the skin by stimu lating the einunctory glands and ducts, thus preventing the detention of poison ous materials which should pass out. Peruna invigorates the kidneys and en courage* them to fulfill their function (n spite of the chills und discouragements pf ooid weather. Peruna is a coin -- biliatlon of well Pc ru na is a World tried harmless Renowned Kem remedies that _ have stood the cay for C.lmah< test of time. Dlscses Many of these ' ..w—.—™. remedies have been used by doctors and by the people in Kurope and America for a hundred years. Peruna lias been used by Dr. Hart man *n his private practice for many years with notable results. Us efficacy lias been proven by decades of use by thou sands of people ami has been substan tiated over and over by many thou sands of homes. Balloon Law Needed. Two women were* talking over their' ■tea in a woman’s club. ‘‘This balloon fad is all right,” said *th« first. ”i see that George Bernard Bhaw, Pinero, tin- Goulds, Harry Lehr, til sorts of celebrities, make occasional recensions. But at the same time—” She made a gesture of repudiation find horror. ”At the same time,” said the other woman, “it’s a risky business, eh? Well, that is the truth. My husband went up *1i> a balloon last week, and 1 haven’t •spoken to him since. What right had lie to risk his life* like that? He has nothing saved, and we live at a $7,500 .rate. Suppose anything had happened io him. what would then become of *ne, with nothing in the world but a $15,000 Insurance?” “In Vienna,” said the first woman,v ''they have a law that is needed here. No married Viennese male is allowed to up in a balloon without the formal •ponsent, before witnesses, of his wife. 'That is as it should be. I am positive, •If the ballooning craze continues, that Mtw such law will be adopted in America.” "It should be,” said the second wom an, “and if it is, it will bar my hus Tand out. rest assured." Love of Animals. From Harper's Weekly. Mark Twain was talking of war and ©f the hardships and privations of ©leges. "A Frenchman,” hr said, “called one day on a won an who had two dogs. They were ugly little brutes, and, when <hey came near him, the man pushed Them out of the way with his foot. "T perceive, sir, you are not very fond of dogs.’ “The man started in surprise. ” Tm not fond of dogs!’ he ex claimed. ‘Why, madam, 1 ate rnoro' than twenty of them during the siego »©f Paris!’” Minnie’s Sincere Prayer. Prom Everybody’s Magazine. 'There had been a dressmaker in the \$ouse, and Minnie had listened to long dis cussions about the very latest fashions. That night when she said her prayers, she jdded a new petition, uttered with un wonted fervency: "And. dear Lord, please make us all very *ftylisK” A DOCTOR’S TRIALS. Ve Soraetluiea Oeln Slclt I.lke Othe. People. Even doing good to people is hard , work If you have too much of It to do. No oue knows tills better than the bard-working, conscientious family doc tor. lie has troubles of his own—often* gets caught In the rain or snow, or loses eo much. sleep he sometimes gets out of sorts. An overworked Ohio doctor |ells his experience: “About three years ago as the result of doing two men’s work, attending a large practice and looking after the de tails of another business, my health* broke down completely, and I was little* fetter than a physical wreck. *1 suffered from indigestion and oou Btlpatiou, loss of weight and appetite, bloatiug and pain after meals, loss of memory and lack of nerve force for* continued mental application. * “1 became Irritable, easily angered' end despondent without cause. The' heart’s action became Irregular and, weak, with frequent attacks of palpita tion during the tirst hour or two after retiring. “Some Grape-Nuts and cut bananas came for my lunch one day and pleased' me particularly with the result. I got more satisfaction from it than from anything 1 had eaten for months, and* on further investigation and use, adopt ed Grape-Nuts for my morning and evening meals, served usually with cream and a sprinkle of salt or sugar. "‘My Improvement was rapid and per manent In weight as well as in physi cal and mental endurance. In a word, I am tilled with the joy of living again, Wnd continue the dally use of Grape Nuts for breakfast and often for the evening meal. “'The little pamphlet, ‘The Itoad to Wellvllle,’ found in pkgs., Is Invariably waved and handed to some needy pa tient along with the Indicated remedy.” Name given by Fostum Co.. Battle Creek, Mich. “There’s a leason.” t i “Kxeuses, excuses, Walters,” was Roebuck’s answer, with a sad, disap pointed look, as If he had hoped Wal ters would make a brighter showing for ; himself. “How many times have you | yourself talked to me of this eternal excuse habit of men who fail? And if I expended my limited brain power in looking into all the excuses and expla nations, what energy or time would I have for constructive work? All I can i do is to selec t a man for a position and to judge him by results. You were put In (barge to produce dividends. I’m sorry, and I venture* to hope that things j are not so bad as you make out in your | eagerness to excuse yourself. For the ! rake of old times, Tom, I ignore your angry insinuations against me. I try to be Just, and to be Just one must al ways be impersonal.” “Well,” said Walters with an air of ; desperation, “give me another year, Mr. Roebuck, and I’ll produce results all right. I’ll break the agreements and j cut rates, rn freeze out the branch roads and our minority stockholders. I’ll keep the books so that all the ex pert accountants in New York couldn’t untangle them. I’ll wink at and com ! mit and order committed all the necr ! essary crimes. I don’t know why I’ve been so squeamish, when there were so many penitentiary offenses that I did consent to, and, for that matter, com mit, without a quiver. 1 thought I ought to draw the line somewhere— and I drew if at keeping my personal word and at keeping the books reason ably straight. But I’ll go the limit.” I’ll never forget Roebuck’s expres sion; It was perfect, simply perfect - -a great ami good man outraged beyond endurance, but a Christian still. “You have, made It impossible for me to tem per justice with mercy, Walters,” said ho. “If it were not for the long years of association, for the affection for you which has grown up in me, I should hand you over to the fate you have earned. You tell me you have been committing crimes in my service. You tell me you will commit more and greater crimes. 1 can scarcely believe my own ears.” Walters laughed scornfully—the reck less laugh of a man who suddenly sees that ho Is cornered and must light for; his life. “Rot!” he jeered. “Hot! You always have he- n a wonder at juggling with your conscience. But do you ex pect me to believe you think yourself innocent because you do not yourself execute the orders you Issue- -orders that can be carried out only by com mitting crime s?” Walters was now be side himself with rage. He gave the r< igns to that high horse he h;yl been riding ever .since lie was promoted to the presidency of the great coal road. He began t«> lay on whip and spur. “Do you think,” he cried to Roebuck, “the blood of those 600 men drowned In the prquot mine is not on your hands your head? You, who ordered John Wilkinson to suppress the compe tition the Pequot was giving you. or dered him in such a way that he knew the alternative was his own ruin? He shot himself- yet he had as good an excuse as you, for he, too, passed on the order until it got to the poor fire man -that wretched fellow they sent to the penitentiary for life? Arid as sure as there is a God in heaven, you will some day do a long, long sentence in whatever hell there is, for le tting that wri'tch rot in prison—yes, and for John Wilkinson’s suicide, and for the lives of those 600 drowned. Your pensions to the widows and orphans can’t save you.” [ listened to this tirade astounded. Used as l was to nu n losing their heads through vanity, I could not cred it my own cars and eyes when they reported to me this insane exhibition. I looked at Roebuck. He was wearing an expression of beatific patience; he would have made a fine study for a picture of the martyr at the stake. "I forgive you, Tom,” he said, when Walters stopped for breath. “Your own sinful heart makes you see the black of sin upon everything. I had heard that you were going about making loud boasts of your power over your employers, but I tried not to believe it. I see now that you have, indeed, lost your senses. Your prosperity has been too much for your good sense.” He sighed mournfully. ”1 shall not Inter fere to prevent your getting a position elsewhere,” he continued. “But after what you have confessed, after your slanders, how can I put you back in your old place out west, as I Intended? How can l continue the interest in you and care for your career that I have had, in spite of all your shortcomings? 1 who raised you up from a clerk.” "Raised me up as you follows always raise men up—because you find them clever at doing your dirty work. I was a decent, honest fellow when you first took notice of me and tempted me. But, by God. Mr. Roebuck, if I’ve sold out beyond hope of living decent again. I’ll have my price—to the last cent. You’ve got to leave mo where 1 am or give me a place and salary equally as good.” This Walters said blusterlngly, but beneath I could detect the beginnings of a whine. "You are angry, Tom,” said Roebuck soothingly. "I have hurt your vanity it is one of the heaviest crosses I have to bear, that I must be continually hurting the vanity of men. Go away and—and calm down. Think the situation over coolly; then come and apologize to me,and l will do what I can to help you. As for your threats—when you are calm, you will see how idle they are." Walters gave a sort of groan; and (hough I, blinded by my prejudices In favor of Roebuck and of the crowd with whom my interests lay, had been feeling that he was an impudent and crazy in grate, I pitied him. "What proofs have I got?" he said des perately. "If 1 show up the things 1 know about, 1 show myself up, and everybody will say I'm lying about you and the others in the effort to save myself. The newspapers would denounce me as a treacherous liar—you fellows own or con trol or foozle them in one way and an other. And if 1 was believed, who'd pros ecute you and what court'd condemn you? Don't you own both political parties and make all the tickets, and can't you ruin any office holders who lifted a finger against you? What a hell of a state of affairs!" A swifter or a weaker descent I never witnessed. My pity changed to contempt. "This fellow, with his great reputation,” thought I, "is a fool and a knave, and a weak one at that." "Go away now, Tom," said Roebuck. "When you’re master of yourself again, come to see me.” "Master of myself!” cried Walters bit terly. "W ho that's got anything to lose is master of himself in this country?" With shoulders sagging and a sort of stumble in his gait, he went toward the door. Ho paused there to say: "I’ve served too long, Mr. Roebuck. There’s no fight in me. 1 thought there was, but there ain’t. Do the best you can for me." And he took himself out of our sight. I You will wonder how 1 was ever able to j blind myself to the reality of this fright ful scone. But please remember that in this world every thought and every act is a mixture of the good and the bad; and the one or the other shows the more prom inently according to one’s point of view. There probably isn’t a criminal In any cell, anywhere, no matter what he may say in sniveling pretense in the hope of lighter sentence, who doesn't at the bottom of his heart beliovo his crime or crimes somehow justifiable—and who couldn’t make out a plausible case for himself. At that time T was stuffed with the arrogance of my fancied membership in the caste of directing financial geniuses; I was looking at everything from the viewpoint of the brotherhood of which Roebuck was the strongest brother, and of which I imagined myself a full and equal member. I did not, I could not, blind myself to the vivid reminders of his rntentlessness; but I knew too well how necessary the iron hand and the fixed purpose are to great affairs to judge him as infuriated Walters, with his vanity savagely wounded, was judging him. I’d • is soon have thought of describing Gen eral Grant as a mufdcrer, because be ordered the battles in which men were killed or because he planned and led the campaigns In which subordinates com mitted rapine and pillage and assassina tion. 1 did not then see the radical differ ence—did not realize that while Grant’s work was at the command of patriotism and necessity, there was no necessity whatever for Roebuck’s getting rich but the command of his own greedy and cruel appetites. Don’t misunderstand me. My morals arc practical, not theoretical. Men must die, old customs embodied In law must bo broken, the venal must be bribed and the weak cowed and compelled, in order that civilization may advance. You can’t es tablish a railway or a great industrial ! system by rose-water morality. But I shall show, before I finish, that Roebuck and his gang of so called “organizers of industry” bear about the same relation to industry that the boll weevil bears to the cotton crop. I’ll withdraw this, If one can show mo that, as the result of the activities of those parasites, anybody anywhere is using or is able to use a single, pound or bushel of yard mere • •f any commodity whatsoever. I’ll with draw It. if f can not show that but for those parasites, bearing i re isc’y the j-ame relation to our society that the kngs and nobles and priests bore to France before the revolution, everybody except them would have more goods and more money than they have under the system the en ables these parasites to overshadow the highways of commerce with their strong holds and to clog them with their toll gates. They know little about producing, about manufacturing, about distributing, about any process of industry. Their skill Is In temptation, in trickery and In terror. On that day, however, I sided—honestly, as I thought—with Roebuck. What I saw and heard increased my admiration of the man, my already profound respect for his master mind. And when, just after Wal lers went out, he leaned back in his chatr and sat silent with closed eyes and mov ing lips, I—yes, I, Matt Blacklock, “Black Matt,” as they call me—was awed in the presence of tills great and good man at prayer 1 lb.\y he and that God of his must have laughed at mo! So infatuated was I that, < lear as it is that he’d never have let mo be present at such a scene without a strong uljtcr'.or motive, not until he him self long afterward made it Impossible for mo to deceive myself did I penetrate to his real purpose—that he wished to fill me with a prudent dread and fear of him, with a sense of the absoluteness of his power and of the hopelessness of trying to combat it. But at the time 1 thought imbecile that my vanity had made me at the time I thought he had let me—at present because lie genuinely liked, ad mired and trusted me! Is it not amazing that one who could fall Into such colossal blunders should sur vive to tell of them? I would not have survived had not Roebuck arid his crowd been at the same time making an oven more colossal misestimate of mo than I was making of them. My attack was vio lent, but temporary; theirs was equally violent, and chronic and incurable to boot. XII. ANITA. On my first day In long trousers I may have been more 111 at ease than I was that Sunday evening at Ellerslys’; but I doubt it. When I came into their big drawing room and took a look around at the assembled guests I never felt more at home in my life. "Yes,” said I to my self, as Mrs. Ellersly was greeting me and as 1 noted the friendly interest in the glances of the women, "this is where I belong. I’m beginning to come into my own." As 1 look back on It now I can't re frain from smiling at my own simplic ity—and snobbishness. For. so deter mined was I to believe what I was working for was worth while, that I actually fancied there were upon these in reality ordinary people, ordinary in looks, ordinary in intelligence, some subtle marks of superiority, that made ; th,1'in at a glance superior to the com 1 moil run. This ecstasy of snobbishness 1 deluded me as to the women only -for, | as I looked at the men, I at once felt 1 myself their superior. They were an I inconsequential, piittcrncd lot. I even ' was better dressed than any of them, 'except possibly Mowbray Langdon: | and, if he showed to more advantage than I, it was because of his manner, j which, ns I have probably said before, is superior to that of any human be I ing I’ve ever seen—man or woman. "You are to take Anita in," said Mrs. Ellersly. With a laughable sense that t was doing myselt proud, I crossed the room easily and took my stand in front of her. She shook hands with me po litely enough. Langdon was sitting be side her: I had interrupted their con versation. "Hello, Blacklock!" said Langdon, with a quizzical, satirical smile with the eyes only. “It seems strange to see you at such peaceful pursuits.” His glance traveled over me critically—and that was the beginning of my trouble. Presently he rose, left me alone with her. “You know Mr. Langdon?” she said, obviously because she felt she must say something. "Oh, yes." I replied. “We are old friends. What a tremendous swell he is—really a swell.” This with enthu siasm. She made no comment. I debated with myself whether to* go on talking of Langdon. I decided against it be cause all I knew of him had to do with matters down town—and Monson had impressed it upon me that down town was taboo in the drawing room. I rum maged my brain in vain for another and suitable topic. She sat. and I stood—she tranquil and beautiful and cold. I every Instant more miserably self-conseious. When the start for the dining room was made I offered her my left arm, though I had carefully planned beforehand just what I would do. She—without hesitation and, as I know now, out of sympathy for me In my suffering—was taking my wrong arm, when it flashed on me like a blinding blow in the face that I ought to be on the other side of her. I got red. tripped in the far-sprawling train of Mrs. Langdon, tore it slightly, tried to get to the other side of Miss Ellersly by walking in front of her, re covered myself somehow, stumbled round behind her. walked on her train, and finally arrived at her left side, con scious in every red-hot atom of me that I was making a spectacle of my self and that the whole company was enjoying it. I must have seemed to them an ignorant boor; in fact, I had been about a great deal among people who knew how to behave. an<f had 1 never given the matter of how to con duct myself on that particular occa sion an instant’s thought I should have got on without the least trouble. It was with a sigh of profound relief that I sank upon the chair between Miss Ellersly and Mrs. Langdon. safe from danger of making “breaks.” so ] hoped, for the rest of the evening. But within a very few minutes I realized that my little misadventure had un nerved me. My hands were trembling so that I could scarcely lift the soup spoon to my lips, and my throat had got so far beyond control that T had difficulty In swallowing. Miss Ellersly and Mrs. Langdon were each busy with the man on the other side of her; 1 was left to my own reflections, and 1 was not sure whether this made me i? ore or less uncomfortable. To add to my torment I grew angry, furiously angry, with myself. I looked up and down and across the big table, noted all these S'*1 f-satisfied people perfectly at their ease, and I said to myself: “What’s the matter with you. Matt? They’re only men and women, and by no means the best spec imens of the breed. You’ve got more brains than all of ’em put to gether. probably; is there one of the lot that could get a job at good wages if thrown on the world? What Jo you care what they think of you? It’s a damn sight more important what you think of them, as it won’t be many years before you’ll hold everything they value, everything that makes them of consequence, in the hollow of your hand.” 7Jut. it was of no use. When Miss Ellersly finally turned her face toward me to indicate that she would be grac iously pleased to listen if I had any thing to communicate, 1 felt as If I were slowly wilting, felt, my throat contracting into a dry twist. What was the matter with me? Partly, of course, my own snobbishness, which led me to attach the same importance to those people that .he snobbishness of the small and silly had got them in the way of attaching to themselves. But the chief cause of my inability was Monson and his lessons. I had thought 1 was estimating at its proper value what he was teaching. But so earnest and serious am I by nature, and so earnest and serious was ho about these trivialities that lie had been brought up to regard as whole of life, that I had unconsciously absorbed his atti tude; T was like a fellow who, after cramming hard for an examination, finds that all the questions put to him are on things he hasn’t looked at. I had been making an ass of myself, and that evening I got the first in stalment of my sound and just pun ishment. I who had prided myself on being ready for anything or anybody. I who had laughed contemptously when I repi'i how men and women, presented at European courts, made fools of i * r; i * i \ * rx—i w iiM iiiriue i miruiuua u.y these people who, ns I well know, had nothing to hark their pretensions to superiority but n barefaced bluff. Perhaps, had I thought this out at the table, T should have got hack to myself and my normal ease; but I didn’t, and that long and terrible dinner was one long and terrible agony of stage fright. When the ladies withdrew, the other men drew together, talking of people I did not know and of things I did rot care ahout—X thought then they were avoiding me deliberately as a flock of tame ducks avoids n wild one that some wind has accidentally blown down among them. I know now that my forbidding aspect must have been responsible for my isolation. However, X sat alone, sullenly resisting old Kl lersly’s constrained efforts to get me into the conversation, ana angrily sus picious that Langdon was enjoying my discomfiture more than the clgaret he was apparently absorbed In. Old Rllersiy. growing more and more nervous before my dark and sullen look, finally seated himself before me. "I hope you’ll stay after the others have gone.” said he. ‘They’ll leave early, and we can have a quiet smoke and talk.” All unstrung though I was, X yet had the desperate courage to resolve that. I’d not leave, defeated In the eyes of the one person whose opinion X really cared about. “Very well," said I, in reply to him. (Continued Next Week.) Mark Twain's New Story. “We all swear—everybody, including the ladies, including Dr, Parkhurst, that strong and brave and excellent citizen, but superficially educated. For It is not the word that is the sin; it is the spirit back of the word. When an irritated lady says ‘Chi' the spirit back of it is ‘damn,’ and that Is the way it is going to be recorded against her. It always makes me so sorry when 1 hear a lady swear like that. But if she says ‘damn’ and says it In an amiable, nice way, it isn’t going to be recorded at all. “The idea that no gentleman ever swears Is all wrong; he can swear and still b(J a gentleman if he does it in a nice and benevolent and affectionate way. The historian, John Fiske, whom I knew well and loved, was a spotless and most noble and upright Christian gentleman and yet he swore once. Not exactly that, maybe; still he—but I will tel! you about it. "One day when he was deeply im mersed in his work his wife came hi much moved and profoundly distressed and said, 'I am sorry to disturb you, John, but I must, for this Is a serious matter and needs to be attended to at once.' Then lamenting, she brought a grave accusation against their little son. She said: ’He has been saying his Aunt Mary is a fool and his Aunt Martha a damned fool!' Mr. Fiske re flected upon the matter a minute, then said; 'Oh! well, it’s about the distinc tion I should make between them, my self.' ’’ Had Missed It. From the Ladies’ Home Journal. "What are you crying for. my poot little boy?" said a man to a crying boy. •'Pa fell downstairs.” "Don't take on so, my boy. He'll get better soon." "That Isn’t It. Sister saw him fall—all the way. 1 never saw nuffen." A Practical Joke. From the New York Weekly. Tramp—You gave me a counterfeit flve-dollar bill a fe w moments ago. Practical Joker—He! he! he! ho! ho! Found it out, eh? "Y’es. sir; and, on my Information, an officer is now looking for you. Gim me five dollars in good money, and I'll throw 'em off the track. Thanks. Ta, ta!" LEMONS BECOMING SGARGE ANO DEAR Their Use in the Manufacture ! of Confections Is Largely Responsible. PRICES GOINS HIGHER The California Supply, Which fop Years Has Almost Supplied the Demand, Is Now Far from Adequate. — Lemons have become quite a do mestic “question.” The housewise is\ discovering that lemons are scarco and, dear. Tile explanation of the shortages is a simple one. This has been a rec ord summer for the use of lemons, and' the supply has not equaled the de mand; prices have gone up and the' end of the summer finds a great in road made into the autumn stock. Our lemon supplies are mostly guar-1 anteed hy Sicilian summers, says the; London Daily Mail. The Messina and, Palermo crops begin in November and' sometimes last through the whole year, so that the same ship may bring the last cases of the old crop and the first of the new. But this has been a lemon summer, and so the last shipments from Sicily did not provide more ths.n, enough to meet the August heat wave. Next to Sicily we depend upon Naples and the Neapolitan crop, which begins, in the early spring, usually lasts until October, but this year, again, Neapoli tan lemons have lasted only until the, beginning of September. Then comes sunny Spain, with Malaga, Murcia and Garthagena lemons, and the groves of Lisbon practically complete the tale of our supplies. Mostly from California. California has, during the last thirty' years, supplied some portion of the' American demand, but the United, States is not independent of the lemon groves of Europe, and it is the largest consumer of European lemons, with Great Britain a good second. The confectioners take their share,\ though most of their supplies come in the form of pickled rinds and citrate of lime. The Messina lemons, having the most acidity, are the best for tho purposes of the manufacture of citrate of lime, and it is in Messina that the^ lemons whose products aro wanted by the confectioners are dealt with. The pulp is there turned into pow dered citrate of lime, as it is more con venient to export than the concentrated lemon juice from which the manufac turers here derive their citrate of lime; and the rinds are put in brine and sent over to England to be turned into that adjunct to Christmas cheer, can died peel. , Th» pciQonpp rtf lpmon Knuppzprl out' of the peel by hand. Sicilian girls stand with a pile of peel cut into quar-1 ters at their side and before them i^ a sponge. That is all their apparatus. They squeeze each quarter of the rind' and a jet of essence issues forth and is soaked up by the sponge. Then the sponge is squeezed and the costly es-1 sence is bottled, but thousands of lem-V 0113 are necessary to fill a tiny vial. Tree Is a brail Plant. \ The lemon tree is a frail plant and not so hardy as the orange. It is so used to the genial kindness of the sun that a nip of frost is fatal to it. Ona hour of frost on January 30 last year almost destroyed the Neajiolitan crop* and though many of the trees recov ered enough strength to put forth fresh leaves this year they had not the strength to bear fruit, but by having rested they will be ail the better next year, so that the crop of 1907 may be expected to reach a high level of abundance and quality. Last year, too, the fragrant lemon groves of the French Riviera were •‘untimejy nipped i’ th’ bud.” The valleys showed the Mack and leafless skeletons of trees that should have been in leaf anj blos som and many of them, shriveled past recovery, had to be uprooted. 1 The Neapolitan lemons are the fin-1 est of all and come when they are most Wanted and other crops are over. But artifice and not nature regulates their maturity. In certain districts in Italy, particularly in Majori, they are grown: un estates which once belonged, and some of which still belong, to the an cient nobility of the land who in rest less political times lived on their es tates outside the city and cultivated lemon groves as part of the elegancies of their pleasure gardens, j Here the trees are not allowed to grow beyond six or seven feet in heightl und the ripening of the fruit is artifi I aially retarded by the trees being cov ered with rushes supported on piles, so that when they ought naturally to bo ripe they are still immature, and the1 terraces where they grow are cool and dark even in the sunny days of early summer. But in May the rushes are thrown aside and the sun pours down, on the trees to ripen the fruit Just at’ the time when the English and Amer ican summer demand is at its height. Thus the Naples lemons escape the dangers of a glut and fetch highest prices when fresh lemons are most wanted. _ When a Balloon Catches Cold. I “Balloning is so fascinating that it is almost impossible to bring oneself to come down when one ought. One wishes al ways to soar higher, to travel a few miles farther, to take just another flight, bv throwlng out the last bag of stand," says j)r. Julian P. Thomas in an Interesting ar ticle in Appleton's magazine for Novem ber. "Yet even with a large amount of bal last one cannot always control the buoy any of the balloon. On one occasion wo were 10,000 feet up In the air In the hot sun chine above the clouds. A cool current of air struck us and condensed the gas in the balloon, so that we fell into the clouds.1 There, out of the sun’s rays we cooled still more, and fell more rapidly. 1 was throw ing out ballast all this time, but without stopping our descent. Indeed at one time In our fall the sand I cast overbornd seemed to move upward, at such a tre mendous rate were we descending. From • the clouds we fell into the cool breeze that 1 always blows over a forest-; and lastly we I crossed a river, which added the finishing | touch to the condensation of the gas in ihe j balloon. We threw over oil the ballast, the anchor and guide rope, our luncheon 1 and water, the camera, and all the clothes we should not absolutely need on our ar rival on the earth we were so rapidly ap proaching. Nothing seemed to check the. , rapidity of our fall, and when finally we struck in the midst of a forest our lees , were doubled up under us In spite of the protection afforded us by the basket. I should have had to throw my brother overboard, too, to have kept in the air. and Indeed he had to get out of the basket after we had somewhat recovered from the shock of our alighting—before the bal loon would rise so that we could steer it to a suitable place for deflating it. Fully one-third of the gas was lost, or rather it | was condensed to two-thirds its former ' volume.” Not Honorable Enough. I Lady Walrond, the wife of General Sir I William Walrond, M. F.. described at a. ^ dinner party in Boston the l.te of a maid of honor. •'One of my friends,” she said, "was a ; maid of honor to Queen Victoria. She j spent a part of each winter at San Retno. I where I have a villa, and one January afternoon at the Sports club, as we were taking tea under an orange tree, a gentle man said to nor: “ 'How Interesting your life at court must be. And what a delightful diary you must be able to keep.’ •' No,’ said the maid of honor, ‘that Is impossible. The queen makes it a condi : lion that we keep no dairies while at I court.’ ” ’Ah,' said the gentleman, laughing, 'tj think 1 should keep a very secret one, all; I the same.' ’• ’Then,' said my friend, with a grave. ' smile, ‘I am afraid you would not be a. maid of honor.’ ” A Quick Explanation. An alienist came wandering through an! insane asylum’s wards one day. He came, upon a man who sat in a brown study on, a bench. “How do you do, sir?” said the alienst.) “What is your name, may I ask?” "My name?” said the other, frowning fiercely. "Why, Czar Nicholas, of course.” “Indeed;'” said the alienst. “Yet the! last time I was here you were the em peror of Germany." “Yes, of course,” said the other, quick-) ly; “but that was by my first wife.” Genuine Carter’s Little Liver Pills. Must Gear Signature of See Fac-S!milo Wrapper Below. Very szuall «ml as outrjr to talus as sugar* lr ABTCtfol701*KEADACHE html thh ran dizziness. Ed? 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