Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 11, 1909)
The Decline in Motorlno. From Motoring Illustrated. What we are concerned to discover Is what causes underlie the practical de cline In motoring. Have the general •tagnatlon of national trade and tho depreciation of Invested capital been the root of the trouble? Or Is it the cost of motoring, caused hv unsatisfac tory drivers, driving mishaps, police traps, or the discomfort, danger and annoyance created by all three? Very Often So. When Mary makes the kitchen lire she uses kerosene. There Is a little hoy who often eats ap ples that are green. And In spite of all that has been sung »nd has been said. It Is a fact that neither Mary nor the boy is dead. i i I I I : i 1 1 ! 0 ! 1 7,000,000 Missing Children. From the Atlantic Monthly. Tho birth rate In the United States , 1 In the days of Its Anglo-Saxon youth 1 was one of the highest In tho world. The best of authority traces the be ginning of Its decline to the first ap pearance! about 181)0, of Immigration on a large scale. Our great philosopher, benjamin Franklin, estimated six chil dren to a normal American family In his day. Tho average at tho present time Is slightly abovo two. For 1900 St Is calculated that there are only about three-fourths as many children to potential mothers In America as there were 40 years ago. Were tho ■old rate of the middle of tho century sustained, there would be 15,000 more births yearly In the state of Massachu setts than now occur. In the course of a century the proportion of our entire fopulatlon consisting of children under he age of 10 has fallen from one-third to one-quarter. This for tho whole United States Is equivalent to the loss of about 7,000,000 children. Wkliliry for Hheainatlsm. To one-half pint good whiskey, add one ounce syrup sarsaparilla, and one ounce Tori* compound, which can be procured of any druggist. Take In tea- ] spoonful doses before each meal and before retiring. Followed up, (hla Is * sure remedy. NEW “A. P.” BOSS HAS BEEN UNDER FIRE Nothing ehort of such a cataclysm M that In Italy offers novelty to the veteran of big news—war, national convention, flood, tornado and moun tain feud, who has been promoted by the Associated Press to the superln tendenoy at Chicago of Its "central | division’1 of 16 states. Probably no man in the United 8tate» In newspaper service has "cov- , ered" so many events of national his- | tory as Hn fry* U. Beach—the St. Louts tornado, the Galveston and Shawnee town floods* the battles of the Spanlsh Amerlcan war* the Goebel feuds and tho tobacco, war. During the Spanish war bullets pierced his hat or clothes several times, for ho wag In the thick of the frays, Including the memorable fight at El C^ney. Under excitement or under the’ tension of presidential Conventions or elections, Mr. Beach’s coolness grows only a little more frigid, his candor a little blunter and his spir its a little livelier. To go Into the midst of danger, or of horrors, and furnish rapid, accurate re ports of what has happened and Is likely to- happen requires qualities of a high Speed thinking machine, not to be ■stampeded or misled with fake news, a man with Instinct end passion for facts which, as Mr. Beach has said, "are good enough for him." He has covered all tho big national conventions but one for 12 years, having had the responsi bility for the arrangements nt many of them. Outside of his dally dealing with news, Mr. Beach Is tho author of ■magazine articles that have won him fume, particularly a series about tho tobacco war. dispassionate, simple and thrilling. Too Busy. Miss Howe—I suppose you visited all the I points ot Interests while you were abroad. Miss Wise—No; we were so busy ad dressing postcards to our friends that we hadn't time to do much sightseeing. NO MEDICINE, Hat m Change of Food Cave Relief. Many persons aro learning that drugs are not tho thlug to rebuild worn-out nerves, but proper food Is required. There Is a certain element in the cereals, wheat, barley, etc., which la grown there by nature for food to brain and nerve tissue. This Is tbo phosphate of potash, of which Grape Nuts food contains a large proportion. In making this food all the food ele ments In the two cereals, wheat and barley, are retained. That Is why so many heretofore nervous and run-down people flud In Grape-Nuts a true nerve and brain food. “I can say that Grape-Nuts food has done much for me as a nerve renewer, writes a Wis. bride: “A few yenrs ago, before my mar riage, I was a bookkeeper in a large firm. 1 became so nervous toward the cud of each week that it seemed I must give up my position, which I could not afford to do. “Mother purchased some Grape-Nuts and we found It not only delicious, but I noticed from day to day that I was improving until I Anally realized I was not nervous any more. “I have recommended it to friends ns a brain and nerve food, never hav ing found Us equal. I owe much to Grape-Nuts, as It saved me from a nervous collapse, and enabled me to retain my position.” Name given by Postum Co., Rattle Creek, Mich. Read “The Road to Well vllle,” In pkgs. “There’s a Reason.” Ever read the above letter? A new one appears from time to time. They are genuine, true and full of human Interest. SCIENTIFIC AND OTHER WISE. World'* Greatest Dam*. With the completion of the vast Irriga tion works now being carried on by the federal government In our western states, his country will possess three of the great ?st dams In the world. The Shoshone dam, svlth a height of 326 feet, and the extreme y short length of 175 feet, will store 466, >00 acre-feet of water; the Pathfinder dam, 515 feet high and 226 feet long, will store ,025,000 acre-feet; while the Roosevelt darn, £4 feet In height and 1.080 feet long, will itore 1,284,000 acre-feet. The most notable structure comparable with these Is the Assouan dam, which, after the work of ncreaslng its height has been completed, kill Impound 1,860,000 acre-feet of water. Wearing Qualities of Rail*. The Boston elevated railroad had not jeen many months in service before it was Uncovered that the rails on the curves vere wearing out at an astonishingly rap d rate. The tracks were first laid with Bessemer rail having the low percentage if 0.45 of carbon; and, after about three nonths of service, these rails, where they vere laid on curves, were so greatly wori^ hat they had to bo replaced. In 1902 sem^ (xperirnental manganese rails were lald^ in a curve of 82 feet radius; and these alls remained in service until August of he present year. A comparison of these rails with the lessemer rails shows that the latter wore lown 0.065 of a foot In 44 days, whereas he manganese steel rail wore down only ,046 of a foot in 2.291 days. According t* 1. M. Steward, the company has tested ither kinds of rail, made specially by the Bessemer or open-hearth process, inelutf* ng some of nickel steel; but none of these* ipproaches the manganese rail In wearing.' [ualities. To Photograph Lightning. The best way to hold the camera to ►hotograph lightning, says the Scientific American, Is to place it close to the body, iltlng It somewhat upward so as to get as nuch of the sky In the picture as pessl >le, and swinging the body from side to Ide. The time and angle of the swing un bo regulated with a little practice so is to bo fairly accurate. With the utmost .are, however, the element of luck enters nto the work to a considerable degree, and he game is one of patience and persever mce. —♦— Preservation of Milk. A German patent specification describes t process for preserving milk by remov ng all dissolved oxygen by means of the iddltlon of a small quantity of ferrous carbonate. The process Is based on the !act that freshly precipitated ferrous car bonate in the presence of oxygen Immedi ately assimilates oxygen and evolves an jqulvalent quantity of carbon dioxide. One ;>art of ferrous carbonate is sufficient for >0,000 parts of milk, and the properties of the milk are not altered in any way by ho addition, which should be made before the milk Is boiled. Drugs by Local Application. Since Professor Ueduc of Nantes, read bis paper at the annual meeting ©f the British Medical association In 19f7, on Ionic medication, a great deal of work has been done on this subject In England. Pro fessor I^educ proved the efficacy of this method of local application of drugs by a striking experiment. He soaked a pad of lint in strychnine solution and strapped It to the ear of a rabbit. He then passed a current through the wet pad and the rabbit's ear, with the consequence that a rapidry fata! result occurred, from strych nine poisoning. Ionic medication or cata phoresis has now been applied to the treatment of various conditions—skin af fections, warts, ringworm, sciatica and rheumatism. The treatment of rodent ul cer by zinc Ions has been very successful. Among the cases already reported may be mentioned a case of rodent ulcer in the 1 University College hospital, which was treated by zlno Ionization In the follow ing manner: The ulcer, which was about the size of a threepenny piece and sit pated on the chin of an elderly man, was thoroughly treated with a solution of sulphate of zinc, then covered with lint soaked in a similar solution and a posi tive zlno electrode applied to the lint. A moderate current was then passed through the lint and ulcer for some ten minutes, as a result of which the malig nant ulcer rapidly healed. Copper Ioniza tion has been tried with success in the treatment of ringworm. Salicylate of sodium and iodine havo been used in this way for sciatica. _a_ Hug© Lens on Mountain Top. The huge 2,000-pound lens for the Car negie Solar observatory is at last on top of Mount Wilson after one of the most tedious and nerve-racking tasks of the kind ever undertaken. The first stage ©f the undertaking, which was the feat ©f transporting the immense casting from a little village near Faria, to Pasadena, was concluded three years ago, when the task was turned over to an expert optician to he ground and polished into a state of perfection. After three years of incessant grinding and polishing, which ended in August, the finished lens was turned over to the chief astronomer of the observatory, and the third and final stage of the undertaking was entered into. This was to lift the dead weight of a ton, which the touch of a hand might mar, to the height of a mile up a steep, rough mountain side. Min gled with the anticipation which scien tific men felt at the outset of the triumph ant ascension was a feeling of anxiety lest the ponderous, yet delicate problem should fall. There were innumerable chances that disaster would overtake the expedition. If the lens had been broken or cracked, or had the slightest accident caused a flnwr to appear upon its surface, though microscopically minute, the un dertaking would have been a failure. Such a failure would not have been meas ured in dollars alone; indeed, the money cost would be classed as trivial, compared with the all-important element of time, as five years of Incessant labor would be re quired to replace it. The old trail up Mt. Wilson was out of the qupestlon. For several miles it is only three feet wide. It was necessary, therefore, to construct a new trail, and a large force of men wore put to work on a route which seemed to promise the surest means of transportation. The trail was completed at a great cost, the lens was securely buried in soft packing material, and after an entire day of most tedious j work was at last deposited in the observ atory. The finished lens is 60 inches across, 8 Inches think at the point of its extreme fulness, and weighs an even 2,000 pounds. It is so much more powerful than any other lens that it is claimed it will make visible 206,000,000 more stars than can be seen with the most efficient instrument now in place. The atmosphere at the | mountain top is particularly suited to astronomical observations, and the instru ment will have the further advantages of the most complete and modern supple mental equipment. It Climbs the Air. The latest aerial flyer is the invention 1 of J. E. Shearer, of San Francisco. It is the result of several years of study, and was suggested by witnessing a parachute drop made by Captain Baldwin in that city. The machine is constructed to per form an operation just tho reverse of a parachute. As Mr. Shearer says, "If a man at the end of a long rope attached to a parachuto could climb the rope fast : enough, ho would, temporarily, ascend j while the parachute was dropping." Tho | parachute form of propeller was adopted, j and in practice is very simple. It is prac- ; tically a case of "treading water" In the air, except that the treading is sufficiently rapid and continuous as to cause the ma* chine and its operator to ascend. Smallest Grade in the World. From tho Washington Times. Regarded by engineers as a marvel of construction Is the Spokane, Portland and Seattle railway, 423 miles, the most direct line between Spokano and Portland, which will bo completed January 1, 1009. The road, built jointly by the Great Northern and Northern Pacific systems, is the most expensive in America, tho cost of much of it ranging from $250,000 to $600, 000 a mllo. Twenty-five miles of track remains to bo laid before Spokane and Pasco, and this work will be completed In two weeks. Be sides this, there are two bridges a mile apart near Devil's canyon. One of 1,100 feet In length and 220 feet high, while the. other Is 1,000 feet long and 160 feet above tho ground In the center. The line will permit of longer trains be ing hauled over It than on any other road in the country. The most severe grade is 4-10 of 1 per cent, and between Cheney, Spokane county, and Portland, the line is down grade. There are no sharp curva tures, the greatest being three degrees, and, as a result, one locomotive can pull from Spokane to Portland as many cars as it can start on level ground. This is expected to set new records for heavy loading. The road has been built without regard to expense, the purpose being to make it permanent and safe. An idea of this may be gained when it is known that 2$ miles of line between Pasco and Kahlotus, south of here, cost $5,000,60$, or $250,000 a mile, while a mile of road along the bluffs over- j hanging Snake river involved an expendl- ' ture of $500,000. To survey and build this part of the line, which follows the Colum bia river, men were suspended over the cliffs witli ropes; but while there were many narrow escapes, not a life was lost, nor was anyone seriously Injured. • —4— Th© Dying Maori Race. The Maoris of New Zealand, who have often been called the finest aboriginal race In the world, are rapidly passing away. The causes are described in a book just published by the New Zealand institute and written by Archdeacon j Walsh. Tho whole story may be summed up In the statement that though Euro pean civilization has brought to the na tives many advantages it really acts upon them like an insidious poison and sapa tho very essence of their life. Several reasons are gtven for the bellel that when the whites first saw New Zea land the Maoris numbered several hun dred thousand. The latest census showed . that 47,721 of them were living. The Marols w'ere once a healthy, vig- ' orous and prolific race, but the dying remnant of today is a people of lowered physique and declining birth rate. Arch- I deacon Walsh says that nothing can sav< them, and that at the present death rat« . j a comparatively short time will witnesi j their extinction. _a._ Live Without Water. No one can travel the hills and plain) of southern California very long without discovering that rabbits, quails, sqirrel* and any number of reptiles and insects live at great distances from any visible j water. < Living on bugs and worms explains why the lizard, the toad and some other rep tiles can live without water, as also snakes, which eat them and animals that In some way manage to keep blood In their veins. In many parts of Mexico deer and antelope go without water en tirely, but they eat cactus, and eat it with all its spines In good order and without waiting for the new spineless cactus. Cat tle In places do the same. But they aro generally poor, while deer and antelopr are almost always fat on It. I have shot many of them, writes a correspondent ot the Los Angeles Times, and found tha spines in the stomach completely soften ed, though they must have been stiff and sharp when eaten shortly before. I never found any sticking in the tongue or mouth. Trouble in the Museum. The taxidermist had cast a reflection On the boss of the geologic section, And the angry geologist floored him —bing!— With the tip of a pterodactyl’s wing. (But does this settle the question whether A man was ever knocked down with a feather?) ^1.—,-^1^— ■—■■ ■*S^.I '—■■■— '*"«»■ ■■ ■ X Keginald Boohoo! What did you hit me for? Mickey—Aw, say! Look at yeraelf la de glass sometime and you’ll see dat 1 jest couldn't help It, r The Crime of •'ffi**' 1 aar the Boyle'vard L-- .- ■ ——» IMSaHM—3 CHAPTER XVIII. Very often after his release from prison Jacques Dantln went to the cor ner of the cemetery at Montmartre, ■where his friend lay. And he always parried flowers. It had become to him. since the terrible strain of his deten tion, a necessity, a habit. The dead are living. They wait, they listen. It seemed to Dantln that he had but one aim. Alas, what had been the wish, the last dream, of the dead man would never bo realized! That fortune which Rovere had intended for the child whom he had no right to call his own would go, was going to some far oft cousins of whose existence the ex consul was not even aware, perhaps, and whom he certainly had never known—to some indifferent persons, once relatives, strangers. "I ought not to have waited for him to tell mo what his intentions were re garding his daughter," Dantln often thought. What would become of her, the poor girl, who knew the secret of her birth and who remained silent, piously devoting herself to the old sol dier whose name she bore? One day In February, a sad, gray day, Jacques Dantln, thinking of the past winter so unhappy, of the sad fecret grave and heavy, strolled along oward that granite tomb near which Rovere slept. He recalled the curious crowd which had accompanied his dead friend to his last resting place, the flowers, the undercurrent of excite ment, the cortege. Silence now filled the place! Dark shadows could be seen here and there between the tombs at ,the end of paths. It was not a visiting day or an hour usual for funerals. This Solitude pleased Jacques. He felt fiear to him whom he loved. Louis Pierre Rovere! That name, which Moniche had had engraved, evoked many remembrances for this man, who had for a time been sus pected of assassinating him. All his childhood, all his youth, all the past! How quickly the years had fled, such ruined years. So much of fever, of agitation—so many ambitions, decep tions, in order to end here! "He is at rest at least," thought Dantln, remembering his own life, without aim, without happiness. And he also would rest soon, having not even a friend in this great city of Paris whom he could depend upon to pay him a last visit. A ruined, wicked,use less life! He again bade Rovere goodby, speak ing to him, calling him thee and thou as of old. Then he went slowly away. But at the end of a walk he turned around to look once more at the place where his friend lay. He saw, coming that way, between the tombs, as if by some cross alley, a woman In black, who was walking directly toward the place he had left. He stopped, waiting —yes, it was to Rovere’s tomb that she was going. Tall, svelte, and as far as Jacques Dantin could see, she was young. He said to himself: "It is his daughter!" The memory of their last interview came to him. He saw his unhappy friend, haggard, standing In front of his open safe, searching through his papers for those which represented his child’s fortune. If this was his friend’s daughter, it was to him that Rovere had looked to assure her future. He walked slowly back to the tomb. The woman in black was now kneeling near the gray stone. Bent over, ar ranging a bouquet of chrysanthemums which she had brought, Dantln could see only her kneeling form and black draperies. She was praying now. Dantln stood looking at her, and when at last she arose he saw that she was tall and elegant in her mourning robes. He advanced toward her. The noise of his footsteps on the gravel caused her to turn her head, and Dan tin saw a beautiful face, young and sad. She had blond hair and large eyes, which opened wide in surprise. He saw the same expression of the eyes which Rovere’s had borne. The young woman instinctively made a movement as if to go away, to give place to the newcomer, but Dantln stopped her with a gesture. "Do not go away, mademoiselle. I am the best friend of the one who sleeps here.” She stopped, pale and timid. "I know very well that you loved him,” he added. She unconsciously let a frightened icry escape her and looked helplessly around. “He told me all," Dantln slowly said. "I am Jacques Dantln. Ho has spoken to you of me, I think”— “Yes,” the young woman answered. Dantln involuntarily shivered. Her •voice had the same timbre as Rovere’s. In the silence of the cemetery, near the tomb, before that name. Louis Pierre Rovere, which seemed almost like the presence of his dead friend, Dantln feltt the temptation to reveal to this girl what her father had wished her to know. They knew each other without ever having met. One word was enough, one name was sufficient, in order that the secret which united them should bring them nearer each other. What Dantln was to Rovere, Rovere had told Marthe again and again. Then, as If from the depths of the tomb. Rovere had ordered him to speak. Jacques Dantln, in the solemn silence of that city of the dead, con fided to the young girl what her father had tried to tell him. He spoke rapid ly. The words, "a legacy—in trust— a fortune," fell from his lips, but the young girl quickly Interrupted him with a grand gesture. "I do not wish to know what any one has told you of me. I am the daughter of a man wrho awaits me at Blois, who is old, who loves only me, ,who needs only me, and I need noth ing." I There was In her tone an accent of ^command, of resolution, which Dantln recognized as one of Rovere's most remarkable characteristics. Had Dantln known nothing this pound in the voice, this ardent look on the pale face, would have given him a hint or a suspicion and have obliged him to think of Rovere. Ro | vere lived again In this woman in i black, whom Jacques Dantln saw for the first time. “Then?” asked this friend of the dead man, us if awaiting an order. "Then," said the young girl in her deep voice," when you meet me near I this tomb do not speak to me of any thing. If you should meet me out side this cemetery, do not recognize me. I The secret which was confided to you ■ by the one who sleeps there is the secret of a dead one whom I adored, my mother, and of a living person whom I reverence, my father." She accented the words with a sort of tender, passionate piety, and Jac ques Dantln saw' that her eyes were filled with tears. ; Jacques still wished to speak of that last confidence of the dying man, but fche said again: j "Adieu." I With her hand gloved in black, she 1 made the sign of the cross, smiling sadly as she looked at the tomb where the chrysanthemums lay: then, lower ing her veil, she went away, and Dan tln, standing near the grey tomb, saw her disappear at the end of an al ley. * The martyr, expiating near the old. rippled man a fault of which she was, innocent, went back to him who was without suspicion, to him who adored her and to whom she was In their poor apartment In Blois his saint and his laughter, 1 She would watch, she would lose her, youth, near that old soldier whose ro bust constitution would endure many,; many long years. She would pay her' lead mother’s debt; she would pay It by devoting every hour of her life to this man whose name she bore- an 11-, lustrlous name, a name belonging to, the victories, to the struggles, to the, history of yesterday. She would be the, hostage, the expiatory victim. With all her life would she redeen*' the fault of that other. "And who knows, my poor Rovere,”.' said Jacques Dantln, “thy daughter,1 proud of her sacrifice, Is perhaps hap-', pier in doing this?” ^ In his turn he left the tomb. Ha went out of the cemetery. He w'lshed' to walk to his lodging in the Rue Rich-, elieu. He had only taken a few steps; along the boulevard, where it seemed; but yesterday he had followed, talking' with Bernardet. behind Rovere’s funer-, al carriage, when he nearly ran Into a little man who wras hurrying- along, the pavement. The police officer sa luted him, with a shaking of the head, which had In it regret, a little con fusion, some excuses. i “Ah, M. Dantln, what a grudge you must have against me.” “Not at all,” said Dantln. “You thought that you were doing your duty, and It did not displease me t«* have you try so quickly to avengei my poor Rovere.” "Avenge him, yes, he will be avenged! I would not give four sousi for Charles Prades’ head tomorrow when he Is tried. We shall see each other In court. Au revoir, M. Dantln,' and all my excuses.” I “Au revoir, M. Bernardet, and all’ my compliments.” The two men separated. Bernardet was on his way home to breakfast. He was late. Mme. Bernardet would be waiting and a little red and breathless he hurried along. He stopped on hear-' ing a newsboy announce the last num-' ber of Lutece. “Ask for the account of the trial to morrow, the inquest by Paul*Rodler on the crime of the Boulevard de Cliehy.” The newsboy saluted Bernardet,' whom he knew' very well. "Give me a paper,” said the police officer. The boy pulled out a paper' from the package he was carrying and waved it over his head like a flag. ■ “Ah, I understand; that Interests you, M. Bernardet.” i And while the little man looked for the heading Rutece in capital letters,, the title which Paul Rodier had given to a series of interviews with cele brated physicians, the newsboy, giving Bernardet his change, said: "Tomorrow Is the trial. But there is' no doubt. Is there, M. Bernardet? Prades Is condemned in advance.” "He has confessed; it Is an accom plished fact," Bernardet replied, pock eting his change. “Au revoir and thanks, M. Bernar det.” A f vmtiroV»A»r n»A I n o* An Vale* Wf o Ann tne newsDoy, going on ms way, cried out: “Ask for Lutece—the Rovere trial. The affair tomorrow. Paul Rodler’s In quest on tho eye of the dead man.” His voice was at last drowned In the noise of tramways and cabs. M. Bernardt hurried on. The llttlo ones would have become Impatient, yes, yes, waiting for him and asking for him around the table at home. He looked at the paper which he had bought. Paul Rodler, In regard to the question which he, Bernardet. had raised, had interviewed savants, phys iologists, psychologists, and in good journalistic style had published the evening before the trial the result of his Inquest. M. Bernardet read as he hastened along tho long titles in capitals in large headlines: “A scientific problem apropos of the Rovere affair.” “Questions of medical Jurisprudence.’’ "The eye of the dead man.” "Interviews and opinions of MM. les Drs. Brouardel, Roux, Duclaux, Pean, Robin, Pozzi, Blum, Widal, Gilles de la Tourette—” Bernardet turned the leaves. The in terviews filled two pages at least in solid columns. “So much the better. So much the better,” said the police ofTleer, enchant ed. And hastening along even faster he said to himself: •>' “I am going to read all that to the children—yes, all that. It will amuse them. Life Is a romance like any other, more incredible than any other. And these questions—the unknown, the in-' visible, all these problems—how inter esting they are! And the mystery—so umusing;” THE END. Luncheon or Lunch. From the New York Herald. Miss Ellen Terry tells us that Alfred Tennyson taught her to say “luncheon” Instead of “lunch.” The former is In fact, preferred by English writers, nob only as a noun, but even as a verb. Thus Disraeli speaks of ladles “luncheontng on' Perigord pie.” In America, however,', though luncheon Is considered more ele gant than lunch In describing tho meal, It Is less rarely used, while the verb “to luncheon” would sound like Intolerable affection to most of us. There Is a story that the question once came up in the household of Mr. William Dean Ilowells. He himself stood up for lunch, as noua and verb. Mrs. Howells declared for lun cheon. An appeal to the Century diction ary was made. ; “Lunch Is preferred!” cried Mrs. How ells. "And vG-.o do you think,” he slyly added, "is given as authority?” "Who?” “William Dean Howells,” answered that gentleman. “O, he4> no authority!" smartly retorted his wife. The pasage In tho dictionary Is quoted from “Venetian Life,” and runs as fol lows: “We lunched fairly upon little dishes of rose leaves delicately preserved.” A Lucky Bird. From an Exchange. An Irishman tri“d to shoot a spar row with a very old musket. He fired. The bird, with a chirp or two, flew away unconcerned In the foreground, and Tat was swiftly laid on his hack. Picking himself up, and shaking his list at the bird, he exclaimed: "He Ja bers. ye wouldn't a' chirruped if y'd been at this ind of the gun.” Figures show that 7,418,200 speeches, making about 200 tons of published matter, were distributed by the govern ment printing office at Washington during the recent campaign. Munyon's Cold Remedy Relieves tb# bead, throat and lungs almost Immediate ly. Checks Fevers, stops Discharges of the nose, takes away all aches and pain* caused by cold*. It cures Grip ana ob stinate Coughs and prevents Pneumonia. Price 25c. Have yon stiff or swollen joints, no mat ter how chronic? Ask your druggist foe Munyon's Rheumatism Remedy ami sea how quickly you will be cured. If you have any kidney or bladder trou ble get Munyon's Kidney Remedy. Munyon’s Vltallzer makes weak men strong and restores lost powers. The Cent School. L. H. Sturdevant In the January Atlantia JBjBf A Cent school house Is so called be cause the children who come to It bring each one a cent, clutched tightly In a little hand, or knotted In the corner of a handkerchief, a dally offering. If tho cent is forgotten, or lost on the way, the child goes heme for another, that Is all, and has scolding for carelessness Into the bargain. The littlest children go to It—used to go, rather, for Indeed this -should all be In the past tense rather than the present, the Cent school toeing a thing of the past and, as one might say, a gTeat aunt of the present kindergarten, an old woman from the country, who is rather plain in her wayB. Eunice Swain would have thought a kindergarten foolishness. Her children did not come to school to bo amused, but to work. She put them «n benches in her big kitchen, because It was warm there, and sat in the din ing room door and taught them, or chastised them, as the spirit bade her. She taught the three R s. and manners, and truth telling, and, above all, hu mility, impressing on these infants daily that they belonged to a genera tion, not of vipers exactly, but of weaklings. Only One "IsriOoIO QUININE” That is LAXATIVE BROMO QUININE. I/Ook for the signature of E. W. GROVE. Used ths World over to Cure a Cold In One Day. 25c. Strange Result of Political Success. From Harper’s Weekly. President-elect Taft had a few moments to spare the other day, and had his sec retary telephone to his tailor to come up and remeasure him, as he was afraid that he had "fallen off" within the past few months, and he would like to order some new clothes. The maker of men hurried post-haste to Mr. Taft, drew his tape measure, and be gan Tils task. I think you wlH find me slightly small er,’’ said Mr Taft, with a twinkle in hie eye. The man worked on, calling the meaa gpeciat to The Tribune. urements to Mr. Taft’s secretary, who ' jetted, them down. "How are they running," asked tho president-elect—"smaller?” "Not very much smaller,” dlseoncerted ly answered the tailor. “The measure ments are about the same as last time." “Yes, sir," replied the tape-stretcher. "they are about the same, except, sir, your chest Is a little lower down." PILES CLUED IN t> TO 14 DAYS PAZO OINTMENT Is guaranteed to cure any case of Itching, Blind, Bleeding or Protrud ing Piles In U to 14 days or money refunded. DOC. _ _ The Babe. (Translated from Calidasa.) Naked on parents’ knees, a newborn child. Weeping thou sat’st when all around the* smiled; So live, that, sinking to thy last Ion* sleep, Thou then may’st smile while all around thee weep. —Sir William Jones. Every year a tree is dug from the king’s Windsor estate and presented to the local workhouse by his majesty. Then, gaily decorated with flags, it Is hung with drums, trumpets, dolls and toys of every conceivable description for distribution among the children of the workhouse. SAVED FROM AN OPERATION By Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound ° Louisville, Ky.— “Lydia E. Pink ham’s Vegetable Compound has cer tainly done me -a world of good and I cannot praise it enough. I suffered fromirregularittes, dizziness, nervous ness, and a sever® female trouble. I.ydiaE.Pinkham’s Vegetable Com pound has restored me to perfect health and kept m® from the operating table. I will never be without this medicine in the house.”—Mrs. Bam’i. Lei:, 3523 Fourth St, Louisville, Ky. Another Operation Avoided. Adrian, Ga. — “I suffered untold misery from female troubles, and my doctor said an operation was my only chance, and I dreaded it almost as | much as death. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Veget ablo Compound completely cured me without an operation.” — Lena V. IIENI'.Y, K. F. D. 3. Thirty years of unparalleled suc cess confirms the power of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound to cure female diseases. The great vol- N lime of unsolicited testimony constant ly pouring in proves conclusively that j Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com pound i3 a remarkable remedy for those distressing feminine ills from which J to many women suffer. I