I THE MARATHON MYSTERY A STORY OF MANHATTAN. _ BY BURTON E. 8TEVEN8ON j Author of “Tho Holladay Caso,” -‘Cadata of Gaooony,” Eto. *.---. ...— “Get a light here and we'll bring him In. Come on, Tremaine.” At the pier end lay a dark, huddled figure. A lightning flash disclosed the ■taring eyes, the blood-stained face. "Good God!” cried Delroy, and the horror of It seemed to strike through him, to palsy him. Tremaine knelt down beside the body and lifted a limp wrist. He held It a moment, then laid It gently down. "He’s quite dead," he said, and stood quickly erect again, with a shudder he could not wholly repress. Delroy, swallowing hard, gripped back his self-control. "Wc can't leave him out here,” he •aid; “perhaps there's a spark of life. Lou take the legs; I’ll take the head.” It was a heavy load and they stag gered under It. From the boathouse a light flashed out, and In a moment young Graham came hurrying out. to them and helped them forward, sobbing drily. They laid their burden on the cot which the son had occupied and stood for a moment looking down at It. The boy seemed on the verge of collapse; his l.ps were drawn, his teeth chatter ing; the horrible sobbing did not stop. Delroy turned to him sharply. “William," he said, "I want you to ■how yourself a man. A good deal de pends on you. Remember that—re member too, that with your help, we’re going to catch the scoundrel who did this.” wasn’t exactly smiling, but his round face was shining wl»v> satisfaction. Babylon and the neighboring villages are quiet places and this was Heffel bower’s first Important case since his election. He would show his constit uents how wise their choice had been. "My dear sir,” he began, evidently proud of his command of language, the result of many years of saloon debates, and speaking with distressing care but with a racial Inability to conquer the ”th,” “I know such a recital will be painful to you—most painful—but I must hear from you just how t’e dis covery was made. You will naturally be more anxious t'an anyone to bring to Justice t’e scoundrel who committed t’ls crime, so please give us all t’e details possible. T'en I will know how to proceed.” From the moment of his entrance, Tremaine had been contemplating the coroner with half closed eyes; now, he turned back to the window with a little contemptuous smile. "I'll tell everything I know, sir,” said William, coming forward eagerly. "I went up t’ th’ house about nine o’clock and brought this cot down, Intendin’ t’ turn In here an' relieve father at midnight. Father was settln’ out there on th’ pier a-smokln’ his pipe when I turned In. I went t’ sleep almost as soon as I touched th’ plller. I don't know how long It was, but after a while I kind o’ woke up an’ heard voices a-talkln' out there on the pier. I got up an’ looked out tli’ winder an’ purty soon I saw It was Mr. Drysdale with father." "Drysdale? Who's he?" asked fhe coroner. "He’s a friend of mine,” spoke up Delroy quickly. "An old friend. He’s staying here at the house with us. In fact, he’s to marry my wife's sister." The coroner bowed. "Very well,” he said, turning back to Graham, "you may continue.” "Well,” went on the young fellow, “as soon as I saw It was Mr. Drysdale, I knowed It was all right, so I went back to bed ag'ln. An’ I didn’t know nothin’ more till a great clap o' thunder nearly took th’ roof off th’ house. I set up In bed, but I couldn’t seem t’ git awake ter a minute, my head was whirlin’ so. Then I rot on my feet nn’ looked out th' winder an’ Jest then It lightened ag'ln an' I seen father layln’ there” He stopped with a sob that shook him through and through. “That will do for t’e present,” said the coroner kindly. “It seems rather extraordinary,” he added, turning to Delroy, "t'at t'ls man should have sat out t’ere In t’e rain at t’at time of night. Was he fishing?” Delroy sprang to his feet with a sud den start. “Fishing?” he cried. "No! I’d for gotten. He was guarding my wife’s necklace.” He threw open the door and ran out on the pier, the others following. At the extreme end a rope was dangling In the water. He reached over and pulled It up. The wire cage was flap ping open. The necklace had disap peared. CHAPTER VII. of agony. "Tnat’s what I want!” he cried. "That’s nil 1 ask!” “That's what we want, too," and Del roy laid a calming hund upon his arm. "Now go up to the house and rouse Thomas, but don’t alarm anyone else. Get Mm to telephone at once to Babylon for Dr. Wise and for the coroner, and tell them both to get out here as quick ly as they can. Do you understand?” "Yes, sir,” answered Graham, and disappeared In the outer darkness. For some moments, the two men stood looking down at the body with out speaking. Then Delroy stooped and touched lightly the bloody forehead. "See,” he said. ”hls head has been beaten In.” “Yes,” nodded Tremaine, “(he mur derer struck boldly from the front—he didn't think It necessary to steal un behind.” "But why didn't Graham defend him self? He was armed. Why did he let him get so near?” "There’s only one possible explanation of that," safd Tremaine drily, “suppos ing, of course, that Graham didn’t fall asleep. He knew the man and thought him a friend. Perhaps they were even talking together at the time the blow wa^ struck.” Detroy’s face turned livid and greut beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. "That would explain It, certainly,’’ he agreed hoarsely, “for there Isn't the least likelihood that Graham was asleep. But It’s too horrible, too fiend ish; I can’t belteve It.” Tremaine turned away to the window wlttiout answering, and stood there rolMng a clgaret between his fingers and staring out ucross the water. The storm had passer!, but by the broad bands of llglrt which Hashed Incessantly along Che horizon, he could see the waves stin tossing tvlldly In the buy. He ltghfted the clgaret with one long lnnataeion, and stood there smoking it, his back to the room and its dreadful occupant. Efetroy sat limply down upon a, chair and buried his head in his hands. A TIUHTISNINU COI1,. The horizon was grey with the com ing dawn, but it was still too dark on the pier lo see anything distinctly, so they went slowly back together to the boathouse. "Was t'e necklace a valuable one?" asked the coroner, as he closed the door. "it. was worth over a hundred thou sand dollars,” answered Delroy, and explained briefly the purpose of the Im mersion. "How many persons were aware of your intention to put it in t’e water out here?” asked Heffelbower, when he had (lnishod. Delroy hesitated. “So far as X know,” he answered siowlv at last, “only myself, my wife, her sister, Miss Croydon, Drysdale, Tremaine, and the two Grahams." “Tremaine?” repeated the coroner. "I don’t t'ink you have mentioned him. “Oh, I forge* to introduce you. This is Mr. Tremaine. Mr. Heffelbower, a friend of mine, who is staying with me.” The coroner bowed but he shot Tre maine a sharp glance which did not escape Delroy's notice. "You will understand. Mr. Heffel bower,” he added quickly, "l believe the crime was committed by someone else—I’m sure none of these could have committed It." “Ah.” said the coroner blandly, "t'en t’ey were all In t’e house, I suppose?" “I cun answer positively that my wife. Miss Croydon, and Mr. Tremaine were in the house the entire evening.” "And Mr Drysdale?” "Drysdale went out for a walk. "A long one?” "He was gone two or three horns.” "Is he in t’e habit of walking after night?" “No,” answered Delroy slowly, "l can't say that he Is." "Did you see him when he came Ir. ?" "Yes—I was looking out the window at the storm." “Did he appear as usual?" Again Delroy hesitated. "I see, of course," he said, at last “what you are aiming at; but I'm surt that Drysdale can explain his absence as well as everything that happenet during it I therefore answer eandidlj that he dkl not appear as usual; In Beemed excited and depressed. He lef me in a fit of anger and went to hi; room." "Wtt'out explaining his action?" "Yes—he made no effort to explaii it.” “Did any explanation occur to you? "I thought perhaps ho was worryin; over losses Incurred in speculation." "Ah!—ho has Incurred such lossc; t’en?” “I do not know positively," said Del roy, a little Impatiently. “I mere! suspec t so ” "Iss Mr. Drysdale still In his room? "Yes, I suppose so. I haven't see him since he went up to it." "Mr. Tremaine was wit' you at t ’ time Mr. Graham burst In and an 1 nounced t’e murder?" "Yes. we were In the hall talking U gether.” I "What time was It?" "Nearly one o'clock. I should eay." "T’ank you." and Heffelbower turn* t back to make a more detailed exstmh 1 ation of the body. “Doctor Wise," I 1 asked, after a moment, 'from whit I direction should you say t'ose' blov • were struck?" * “From directly In front," answer* * the doctor. I “But I see he has a pistol la I; 1 belt. Why did he not defend htrnse! Why should he allow himself to I 1 beaten down?" b "That question also oocurrsd to m< ■ observed Delroy. "Mr. Tremaine wui • rested that it ««» benuiae fit aha Presently there came the sound of footsteps on the walk, the door opened, and young Oralum* and Thomas came , , ”ur.'wise promised t’ come at once, •lr, said the fatter to Delroy, his voice •dropped Instinctively to a hoarse whis he'd bring the coroner with him.” ®clroy ndffied without looking up. Anything else I can do, sir?” asked Thomas, with one horrified glance at the still ft>rm on the cot. “Tes; go back to the house and bring Sutssaf”1116 *hisky and a half dosen “V^ry well, sir,” and Thomas hurried •away. He was back In a surprisingly lew minutes. * lowing; toadied the hideous wounds looked Into the eyes, felt the temples. "He'll theod." he said, at lust; "has been dead two or three hours. I should say. His slu/ft is crushed—fairly beaten in. “It's your gardener, Grulnim, Isn't It?*’ "Yes," Delroy answered. The doctor stopped back. "I turn the case over to you, Heffet bower," he said. "It's In your province now. Mr. Detroy, this Is Mr. Heffel bower, the coroner." Heffelbower bowed. He was a little short man. bald-headed und with wide open blue eyes that stared like a doll's Primarily, he was a saloonkeeper, bu had been elected coroner as u rewari lor hi* valuable services to his party He possessed a certln native shrewd ness which lifted him to some extent to the office; also a lack of nerves and : familiarity with crime which might of ten be of service. "f presume." he began slowly, "fa l ls man wasn't killed here In Ills bed'." "No." said Delroy, "we found him ly Ing out on the pier yonder. We though It only common humanity to bring htr in. since there might have been a spar: of life left." "OH. of course." agreed the coronei Instantly, visibly impressed by Delroy' presence. "T’at was t .ght. Who foun t’e body?" "H|s son. there," and Delroy Indicate young Graham by a gesture. Hie coroner turned toward him; waa easy to «ee that he had a hig •pinkm of Ms own ability as a oroi examiner and detector of crime. H thought his murderer a friend and at* ticlpated no assault. So he allowed hln to approach unchallanged, and wa» wholly unprepared for the treacherous attack." The coroner looked at Tremaine again with a glance In which suspicion had changed to admiration. "T’at Isa. Indeed, very probable ex planation." he said. "In fact, I haven't t'e least doubt It iss t’e true one. Gra ham would not have allowed a strang er to aproach him; but If he had come on. Graham would have prepared for t’e attack and would have given a good account of himself. He seems a very powerful man.” As he spoke, he lifted one of. the muscular hands; then, with a little ex clamation of surprise, he bent and examined It more closely. "Come nearer, gentlemen," he said, his face flushed with excitement. "I want you to witness t’at he has some t’lng between his fingers." They stooped and looked as he indi cated. They could see that the hand clasped tightly some small, dark ob ject. "Let us see what It Is," Heffelbower continued, and bent back the stiffen ing fingers. The object fell out Into his hand. He held It up In the glare of the light so that all might see. It was a button with a little shred of cloth attached. "If we can find t’e garment t’at t’ls came from,” said the coroner triumph antly, turning It over and looking at it. "we shall probably find t’e murder er. It Is a good clew. He placed the button carefully In his pocketbook and turned to the window. "I t’lnk it lss light enough,” he said, "to take a look at t'e scene of t’e crime. I shall t'en return to Babylon-” “I have thought," remarked Delroy, "of calling In a New York detective. Should you object-”, “Not In t’e least," HefTelbower broke in. "I shall welcome eferyl'ing t’t will assist In bringing t’e guilty person to justice. Only,” he added pompously, j ’’wit’ t'e clews which I already possess, and wit' t'e ot’ers which I expect to find, I believe it will be unnecessary. T’e guilty man will not escape, I’ll promise you t’at, Mr. Delroy,” and he opened the door and stepped out upon 1 the pier. Dawn was In the sky, a clear, warm, J Joyous dawn. In tree and bush and hedge the birds were welcoming it. All nature was rejoicing, quite Indifferent to the human tragedy which had marked the night. They went together down the pier to the spot where Graham had fallen. The rain had washed away nearly all the blood-stains. His rifle lay on the pier beside the chair In which he had been sitting. The chair was overturned. “But t’e wind may have done t’at," said the coroner, when Delroy pointed out that the overturned chair suggest ed a struggle “Or maybe he knocked It over when he fell. Let’s have a look at l Hi mue cage. Ho pulled up the rope. The lid of the cage was open, but It did not seem to be Injured. “Maybe t’e waves proko It open.” suggested Heftelbower. “They couldn't have done that,” ob jected Delroy. “See—here’s how It fastened.” He closed the lid and snapped Into place three small but very strong hooks, which locked automatically. “The only thing that could open it,” he added, “was a human hand." "And an Intelligent one, at t'at,” con cluded the coroner. “It would be very hard to find t'ose little hooks In t’e dark, unless one knowed Just where t’ey were.” “Yes,” admitted Delroy, "That’s true.” Heffelbower opened his Ups to say something more; then changed hjg mind, closed them, and turned away with a significant smile. He examined the knots in the rope, the pier, the w’a ters of the bay, on which just beyond the pier, a small boat was riding at anchor. “T’e boat is yours, I suppose, Mr. Delroy?” he asked, “Yes—it has been there ready for use since Saturday.” As he spoke a gust of wind swung the boat in towards them. Young Graham, who was standing on the extreme edge of the pier, glanced down into it, and uttered a sudden ex clamation. “What’s that?” he cried, with arm outstretched. The others followed the gesture, but a second gust swung the boat away. "What was It?” asked the coroner. Without answering. Graham sprang Into the water, and with a few strokes reached the boat. He climbed into it and untied it from the buoy. Then, at the Instant another gust of wind came from the ocean, he released his hold. The boat was swept against the pier: he fended her off with the boat hook and made fast. "This Is what I meant,” he said, and pointed to a pistol lying at his feet. They stared down at it, amazed. It was the coroner who spoke first. “Pass It up,” he said. He turned it over carefully in hts hand It was a fine type of the Smith & Wesson. It was fully loaded; none of the chambers had been discharged. “Ah,” he said, “see t’ere,” and he pointed to a clot of blood on the butt. “T’e butt Iss very heavy,” he added, turning It up. "And see—here are some Initials—J. T. D. Whose are t’ey?" "They are John Tolbfrt Qrysdale’s.” answered Delroy In a low voice. (Continued Next Week.) No Chesterfield. A Christian Scientist of Boston was praising the late earl of Dunmore. •'Lord Dunmore,” he said, "was a good Christian Scientist and a good man. Tall rnd robust and supple, I can see him still with his short gray beard and his kind face. His only fault—a fault due to his aristocratic upbringing, no doubt—was tne exag gerated value that he set upon correct ness. He insisted on correctness in eat ing, In dress, in everything. "At a dinner in Beacon street last i year I heard him tell a story about an incorrect self-made man. of "nouveau riche,' as he called him. i "This man was dressing one evening to go out. His wife bustled into the room before he started, to look him ; over. " 'But, Oeorge,' she said reproach , fi.liy, ‘aren't you going to wear your d'amond studs to the ' -nquet?’ " No. What’s the use?’ George t giowled. ’My napkin would hide ’em anyway.’ ” 1 Congregation Laughed. Former President Patton, of Prince o ton university, recently delivered a ser - num at Fifth Avenue Collegiate church on the subject of “Faith.'' He spoke - of the blind faith of the client who puts himself at the mercy cf a lawyer in preparing an action tor trial, and of the confidence of the sick In entrust d ins themselves to the physician. A case of blind faith." said the ? clergyman. "The doctor writes out u n prescription. Oftener than not you ft cannot read It and you don't know what it is. He tells you to take It d 'Yours Is not to reason why; yours bui to do and die’." is Whether or not Dr. Patton meant li t? (her" was a distinct ripple Ihroughoiu >« the congregation. A woroa* get* her for;une told so ih [. 'f It evsr should came true aha could a ' in she knew it was coins to happen. THE COLT’S FEET. When the colt Is taken In from the pas ture Its hoofs are usually long, and ex tending down below the sole for a more or less considerable distance so that when it Is put upon the hard floor or allowed to exercise upon the frozen ground, the hoofs breaks off irregularly or where it does not break off it is very likely to wear uneven and then the weight of the body upon the legs has a tendency to put them out of the proper alignment thereby throwing too much strain upon some parts while other parts do not have to sustain their proper amount of weight. And this unequal distribution of weight has a tendency to produce an excessive development of the parts that bear the heavy portion while the other parts do not fully develop, and as the colt grows to maturity this disproportionate develop ment of the foot and leg Is very likely to continue with the result that when ma turity Is reached or before, these parts are in such a preserved condition that they soon give out under the strain work and the animal goes lame with what is very often an incurable trouble. Much of this could be obviated if a little attention was given to the foot, especially when the ani mal is taken from the soft cushion like ground of the pasture and placed in the hard floor of the stable or frozen ground. It is not difficult to level up a colt's feet. All the tools that are needed is a pair of hoof cutting pinchers and a hoof rasp. The long parts of the hoofs can be removed with the pinchers, and after these are removed the wall can be leveled and smoothened with the rasp. It should not take over five or ten minutes to prop erly treat all four feet of a small colt. And if It is done at the proper time, spavin and ringbone and such diseases will not be so prevalent. Again the free high stepping gait of a colt is often materially lnterferred with be cause of the improper developments of the foot and leg. This may appear like a little thing and all theory to many farmers, but when you take into consideration the number of steps that an animal takes in traveling a mile, and figure the length of time it re quires to take a step, or to put it another way figure the number of steps an animal takes per minute In traveling four or five miles an hour, one can readily see that a very slight Imperceptible hitch at each step, would soon amount to considerable and then take Into consideration the fact that the animal not only has to carry its own weight besides such a load as may be behind and also this defect due to faulty development. It should be evident to all that a small defect will in reality amount to much at the close of the day. And this day after day will sooner of later tell upon the vitality of the parts if not upon the general system of the animal. All are familiar with the old adage, "no foot no horse.” But few people like to drive a lame horse consequently any lameness especially one that is likely to remain permanent, very materially re duces the value of the animal. Ordinarily the sole and frog of the foot of a colt should not be lnterferred with any more than is necessary to level up the foot. But whenever the wall breaks oft unevenly or one side of the foot grows longer than the opposite the foot should be leveled up. LOOKING AT THE FEED END. Too many dairymen look only at on» end of their business. They seem to think that If they get a fair quantity ! of milk every day that they are making money. Of course milk Is what we are after, and the more of It and the bet ter the quality so much more will be our profits, providing the feeding end has been kept in right proportion. There j Is as much opportunity for profit by ! feeding right as there is in selling right, yet the majority of dairymen could not tell for the life of them how much It costs to produce a gallon of milk or a pound of butter. The feeding end of dairying involves a careful sys tem of farming, for wheat growing and good dairying will not go well together. Where the feeding end of dairying is i looked after right there will always b» found plenty of com, oats, clover hay i and clover pastures, and the winter ra tions of the cows will be so nicely bal anced that maximum results are ob tained right along through the cold weather. I visited a dairy farm in Carroll county last week where dairy ing and general farming are carried on. Here nice, bright fodder was stored in the barns, the straw was In the mows, and there was tons of mangels to give succulence to the winter rations. There was a good size cutting box, and bran and oil meal were on hand. The only weak points I saw here was the lack of a silo, which would go a long way in cheapening winter feed. In order to get a cow to use her foods economically and do her best, she must have a cer tain proportion of different milk pro ducing foods, and the profits of winter dairying will depend upon how well these are supplied. It pays to look at the feed end of dairying first, for the chances are that you will lose out at the other end if the first is neglected. BETTER CREAM. Many wonder sometimes why they cannot get as good cream during winter as they do during the warm months. The trouble all comes from the way the cream is handled. Many do not realize that cream should be cooled in winter just as promptly as in summer. Tc maintain the quality of cream it should be cooled immediately after separation and kept at a low temperature. An other thing which hurts cream dur ing cold weather is lack of cleanliness in handling the cows and leaving the milk around the barn for an hour or two. The same thing may be said of the milk utensils. Many think that cold will keep these things sweet and clean, and utensils are not washed properly. One of the most prolific sources of trouble Is the location of the cream separator. I recently saw one in i a bed room, and another one was lo cated In a small side room where the 1 men took off their work clothes and boots. Better cream means better care j all along the line. I DONT SELL YOUR GOOD COWS. | Whenever a dairyman begins to sell | his good cows, because someone comes along and offers him an extraordinary price, bis doom is sealed. The whole success of the dairy depends upon i keeping only good cows and getting rid of the poor ones. Some men are just short-sighted enough to never find out the difference In their cows, and will stick to the whole bunch, as if their lives depended upon It. But there are shrewd buyers in the field all the time | hunting for 300-pound cows, and they are always ready with a big price for i such a cow. There Is only one way I : would sell good cows and that would ; be, selling the entire herd, and make i the good ones sell the poor ones. The man who Is in the business to stay should simply shut his eyes to all of fers for his good cows, and keep his eyes wide open hunting the best in the . country. TUBERCULOSIS IN HOGS. Wishing to test the matter of hogs be coming Infected with tuberculosis from the milk of tubercular cows, the Iowa ex periment station at Ames fed four lots of pigs four and one-half months with milk that was Infected with the germs of bo vine tuberculosis and with pasteurized milk free from such bacilli. Two lots were fed in lots with timothy pasture and the other two in dry lots. One of each of the lots was given tubercular food from four to seven times and at the end of the period expert hog buyers could see no signs of disease and considered the whole lot worth the top of the market, except four head, which were small. Poet mortem examinations found that only one-fourth of these twenty head that had had the tubercular baccllll were tit for consumption, though 45 per cent, of the lot were not so badly affected that they could not be used for lard purposes with entire safety. Of those fed the pas tuerized milk none were affected. It there fore seems plain that In the short space of four and one-half months healthy pigs were made unlit for market purposes by feeding the germs of tuberculous diseases. Careful Inquiry Into the ancestry of these pigs indicated that there was no tubercu lar disease connected with any of them, so that the cause of the disease was en tirely In the food. If this result Is at tained in this time, what will be the con dition of hogs sold from farms that al ready have the disease or are fed on milk from tubercular cows for the year or less of their natural lives before being put on the market? SAVE THE COW MANURE. Of all the elements of food for grow ing crops, phosphoric acid Is the one which growers will do well to use judi ciously. It Is an element which Is defi cient on most farms, and for this rea son the dung of cows, which contains nearly all of the phosphoric acid, should be carefully saved and applied to lands. The manure made by cows supplies nearly all elements of crov ’ growth. The urine contains most ol the nitrogen, the dung the phosphoric acid, and the coarse stuff, such as straw, most of the ash. There Is less than half a pound of phosphoric acid lr 100 pounds of well rotted manure, so II is essential that every bit of the ma nure be saver. Milch cows, at best, dc not produce a high class manure, be cause of the elements which are sole off In the milk. Use plenty of straw for bedding, nnd then get the manur< out on the fields where It will count. FARM FACTS. Try barley next spring as a nurse crop for grass or clover. Those whi have used It this season are mucl pleased with the results. Tou can pick out the rented farms li any section where both landlords am I tenants aim to get the most out of tin I land. Any system of renting, whlcl I does not provide for elovoring or sonr other means for fertilizing up th soil, depreciates the land every yeai About the best Investment that on can make this month Is a half day' i work fixing up the hen house. Wit] . ggs around 25 ednts a dozen It wl! ! pay to keep the hens laying. Let 1 sunshine, clean up and whitewash, an. “ provide clover, grit and dust. The t watt for results. MARKET GRAIN THROUGH COWS A careful feeder can market his grain and forage through his cows to a bet ter advantage than any other source. The profit of the transaction depends upon the skin of the feeder and the ability of hie cows to use their food 1 economically. During periods of high i prices many cut down the rations of their cows, and. while this does the cows no particular harm, yet It cuts off profits Just that much. The cow I needs so much food to keep up her body requirements, and she appreciates all the food she gets until she gets suf ficient to meet those requirements. Hence tt i» evident that the profit to the owner must come from the food consumed above the actual needs of the cow. Don’t stint on the milch cow's feed, but rather feed all that your cows will consume, providing, of course, they turn their food into milk. WATCH THE COWS. There has been more than the usual number of cases of abortion among dairy cows reported during the past year. The increase of this affection cartnot be accounted for. unless it comes from contagion. The dairyman should be on the lookout now for any chronic cases. Better remove from the general herd any cow that has ever aborted. Much can be done to avert this trouble by toning up the cow's system, and keeping her free from ex citement and In comfortable quarters. Right now is the time to attend to these matters. Don't wait until one or more cows have prematurely dropped their calves, and thus lay the Whole herd open to Infection. If it is not feasible to Isolate the chronic cases, better use more vigorous measures and get rid of them. No one should risk the useful ness of a young herd by having around any cow that aborts year after year. DAIRY "NOTES. The aim should be to get ns many well bred cows as possible into the milking herd. But that does not mean : that ail the cows should be pure bred i Start with a pure bred dairy bull. Ha will grade the herd in the right di rection. The man who sells the manure made ! on his farm might just as well do that [ as anything else. He Is pretty neat | the end of his string anyway. ‘ If cream Is kept too long it will not " churn readily. For quick and easy ' churning the cream should be brought to the right temperature at least two i hours before starting lo churn. i - i A subscriber asks It he should feed I clover hay with silage. Yes, by all 1 ‘ means. Silage is low In protein and i} must be fed with clover hay and oth i ! *r high protein foods to give the beat F results. Coth of One Mina. From the Philadelphia Inquirer. A fat Irish woman, bearing a numbeH of bundles, entered a crowded tram car. The only semblance of a seat she could find was a small space at the right of aj disagreeable youth. Into this space, sufficient only for an individual of„or dinary size, the flesl Irish woman squeezed herself, much to the annoy ance of the futh. After a moment ori so the Irish woman produced a cheese* sandwich, which she proceeded to de-! vour with every evidence of relish. At: this the youth gave her a look of In effable disgust and drew the skirts of his frock coat closer to him. "I suppose, me lad," good naturedly said the woman, “that ye’d prafer-r to have a gintleman sittin’ nixt to ye?” "I certainly would!” snapped tha youngster. ” "So w'ould 1.” calmly responded th« fat person. / "In Russia they don’t allow soldier* to marry.’’ “That’s foolish, I think.” “Why?” “Because a married man has mory experience in warfare.” The Witness. When the Boston attorney. Mason* was preparing the case of E. A. Avery and had examined about 200 witnesses, somebody called to see him. The legal gentleman sent word that he was occu pied and could not be interrupted. “But the man Is a witness—a Metho dist minister.” “Call him up,” said Mason. “Well, fir. what can you testify?” “I had a vision—two angels have ap peared to me, and told me that Brother Avery is innocent —” “Let them be summoned,” said Ma son as he resumed his work. How’s This? We offer f>ne Hundred Dollars Rewerd foe •ny case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by Hall’s Catarrh Cure. F. J. CHENEY a CO., Toledo, O. We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, and believe him perfectly honorable In all business transactions, and financially able to carry out any iibllgations made by his firm. Walding, Ki.vnan a Marvin; Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O. Halt’s Catarrh Cure Is taken Internally, acting dlreetlv upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system. Testimonials seat free. Price, 75c per bottle. Sold by all Druggists. Take Hall’s Family Pills for constipation. PEACOCK SOCKS THE FASHION From the London Express. Hitherto It has been supposed that the love of color in dress appeals to women only, but the latest fashion in socks shown that man also loves to deck himself out in the gay colors of the peacock. This Is the age of the variegated sock. Walk down the Burlington arcade and you will see the windows of the select hosiers flaming with socks of many col ors. Purple with yellow spots, green with, red spots, black with pink stripes, and startling blends of manve, brown and magenta brighten the windows. To wear somber socks nowadays is ta put yourself at once outside the pale of society. Indeed, so fashionable is the bril liant sock that at Henley this year thera were “sock competitions” among the gild ed and flanneled youths. Prizes were offered for the best effect In colored socks, and the» young man that won was best out of twenty, with, green stripes on a white ground. A Burlington arcade hosier said that colored socks are the result of the en tente cocdlale. English fashions are be coming more Parisian, and low shoes aro being worn to a greater extent In order to show the smartness of the socks. This Is the law of the sock as laid down by him: “Strtpes should always be vertical, never round the sock, and generally a man should &ee that his ties and socks are the same color. “Really smart people have the same bu% In ties, socks, braces and handkerchiefs.'* He added that Englishmen are now pay ing far more attention to the detail of their dress than formerly. Nobody dashea into the shop and buys a dozen of “black’* swiftly. Sock buying has become a serioun thing, almost as serious as buying a cigar or choosing a motor-car. The new styles in socks are the kalei doscopic end the rainbow (which contain all the colors jumbled together), helk> trope. light green, ecru or champagne, bright yellow and dark green. Oddly enough pink is tabooed. Nobody know* why. but he who wears pink socks 1* | reckoned a pariah. BEGAN YOUNG. Hud “Coffee Nerrei” from Yoalk. “When very young I began using coffee and continued up to the past six months,’’ writes a Texas girl. “I had been exceedingly nervous,thin, and very sallow. After quitting coffee and drinking Postum Food Coffee about '*■' a month my nervousness disappear-*! i and has never returned. This is tha more remarkable as I am a primary | teacher and have kept right on with my work. “My complexion now is clear and rosy, my skin soft and smooth. As a good complexion was something I had greatly desired, I feel amply repaid even thongh this were the -uly benefit derived from drinking Postum. “Before beginning Its use I nad suf fered greatly from Indigestion and bendnche; those troubles are now un known. “Best of all, I changed from coffee t» Postum without the slightest Incon venience, did not even have a head ache. Hare known coffee drinkers wha ' were visiting me, to use Postum a week i without being aware that they were not drinking coffee. “I have known several- to begin th* I use of Postum and drop It because they j did not boil it properly. After explain ing how It should be prepared they | have tried It agalu and prduouuced it ' delicious.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich, (tend the booklet. “The ■ Road to Wellvllte,*' In pkga. ’’Tbere'e | a Res son."