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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (May 6, 1909)
j “You Pay” for I I Results Onlyl Dr. Hathaway’s Modern Meth- I ods Have Proven Successful M Tli© most discriminating person can H & '"sligHB And no fault with I>r. Hathaway’s meth Mp ? iS§jj|BM ods of combating the special and chronic '£% ' discuses of men and women, and were you BNRi to i00^ the whole world over, you prob- gg §^7 ably could find no better. Tlie superiority I /.=§! of his treatment has beeu proyen in many ft / cases where they have failed to derive r.::benefit from most all kinds of patent ^g medicines, family doctors, specialists, ^g medical companies and institutes, and it ^»o is not worth your while to look elsewhere WStifinfiSM i* y°u want value received for your ex 1*iJLr: \™iBHpWBB5I penditure of time and money. His treat- H jjg mentu of KNOWN QUALITY. There Is j£« no guesswork or pater work about it. The H Jg^g^ experimental stage passed many years Hi 4/%' ago, an<A th|a treatment of TO-DAV is H based upon Indisputable and time proven |p9 facts. If you are in need of medical treat- H| .O *sylwY%&-/!f2h± merit at all you can afford the Best, and \h\ I&t'when you get Dr. Hathaway’s treatment JjH (J'-TFatfiAftlilWfiv '/////in the beginning, you will save yourself ^g fjjjp - - '*• much worry ano iv great disappointment. H Remember, Dr. Hathaway has had over %%$ %!;; 26 years’ experience in the treatment of ^g SPECIAL DISEASES MCI’LIAR TO MEN AND WOMEN. Fifteen years located ■ :|l§ to Sioux City *, same office ; the very best of professional and financial references. " r*|| No fake or fraudulent methods employed. Just straight, legitimate practice and - f ;S| a “SQUARE DEAL” to everyone. You will never regret taking Dr. Hathaway’s -0-j treatment. Consultation and examination free to all. WRITE OR CALL TO-DAY H fij AND DESCRIBE YOUR CASE. I DR. HITHIWir & CO., g°gi5ar Slou« City, Iowa I You Sloop on Your Capable Side. **rom "An Experimental Study In Sleep." by Professor Boris Sldls, of Harvard. Some people go to sleep only on their back and And it difficult to fall asleep otherwise, while others who go to sleep on their side, and who form tho greater majority, always go to sleep oh the same side. There are very few who can fall asleep Indifferently on either aide. Moreover, my observations have shown me that by far tho majority of right handed people go to sleep on tho right aide, while left handed people go to sleep on their left side. Home of the right handed people who go to sleep on the right side may, nfter some time, turn to thrlr left to change position, while others keep on sleeping on the same side through the whole night. Tho majority change position. One case Is specially interesting to quote: "Up to my seventh year I slept on my right side and I was right handed. At about the age of 7 I met with an acci dent, I was run over by a team and my right side was Injured so that I could not use the limbs of tho right side. I used my left hand only, 1 began to Bleep on my left side. This I did up to my 15th year. I then begun to prac tice with my right hand too, and am now ambidextrous. I sleep now on either aide. I use both hands.” PAINT EVERY YEAR. KTo One Wants tn Du It, but Some Paint Will Wear Sio I,anger. When you hnve a Job of puluttng done, you don't expect to have It done over again very soon. But to make a lasting Job, several things must be taken Into consideration—the proper time to palut—the condition of the surfai’e—the kind of materials to use, •to. All these mutters are fully cov ered In the specifications, which can be had free by writing National Lead Company. 1902 Trinity Building, New York, and asking for Houseowner's Painting Outfit No. 41). The Outfit also Includes a book of color schemes for both Interior and exterior patntlng, • nd a simple Instrument for detecting •dulteratlon In the palut materials. The outfit will solve many painting problems for every house-owner. Meantime when buying paint see that •very white lead keg bears the famous Dutch Boy Paluter trademark, which Is an absolute guarantee of purity and quality. If your paint denier cannot supply you National Lead Company will see that some one else will. ) Baba Holds Up a Train. ! From the Buffalo News. A 8-year-old boy held up a passenger train on the Erie railroad, near Belle ville. N J., the other day. The lad, a ■on of Antonio Steffanelli, had wan dered away from home and was walk ing along the tracks dragging a bat tered tin horse, when the engine ap proached In the opposite direction. The engineer blew his whistle, hut the child kept on between the rails. Several times again the whistle was blown, but without result. Then the engineer brought the train to a stop, ; got down from his cal) and carried the child to one side. The little fellow fought against his removal. Divinity Candy. From the I,os Angeles Times. One pint golden drip syrup, one pint of sweet milk, one cup of granulated i ■ ugar; butter the sl/.e of a walnut. Boll until a soft ball may be made. ! Remove from the fire and whip until it Is creamy, then pour It over one half pound of shelled California Eng lish walnuts. A NOTRE DAME LADY'S APPEAL To all knowing sufferers of rheumatism, whether muscular or of the Joints, i^clatlca. lumbago*, backache, pains In the kidneys or neuralgia pains, to write to her for a home treatment which has repeatedly cured •11 of these torture*. She feel* It her duty ! to send It to all sufferers FREE. You cure , yourself at home as thousands will testify •o change of climate being necessary. This •lmple discovery banishes urjc acid from the blood, loosen* the stiffened Joint*, puri fies the blood, and brighten* the eyes, giving •laaticlty and ton*' to the whole system. If the above Interest* you. for proof address Mr*. M. Summer*. Box 3, Notre Dame, Ind. SELECTED Canadian lands in large and small blocks. Four years’ Canadian ex perience. Glad to answer Inquiries. A. K. Ran. UXS American National Bank Bldg . St Paul. Minn. This Trade-mark Eliminates All Uncertainty In the purchase of paint materials. It is an absolute guarantee of pur ity and quality. For your own protection, see it is on the side of every keg of white lead you buy. NATIONAL LEAD COMMIT _IDO! Trinity DulHI«|, »w tut BIG TASK OF REFORESTATION." The Department of Agirculture Has 5 Million Acres to Plant in Trees. James Wilson, Secretary of Agriculture, In Suburban ljfe for April. The question Is how to get tree seeds to grow, particularly out west In the forest ranges. We have 168 million acres now. I,ast summer I went out west among the trees, as I had done for several summers. A nice question has been In*our minds, how to get re forestation done. Of course you can plant seeds in a bed and then take them up with a spade and set them out where you want them set. and all that. If tho department of agriculture had all the army and all the navy they could never get It done In time. We have probably 5 million acres to plant. Wo ought to he reforestatlng 250, 000 acres a year think of that! You can never do that with a spade In tho world; you could never get It done. Na ture should be followed along those I lines. I recollect tho first time I went out there and discussed this proposition | with some of the people there. If I ■ were wanting to get a field to grow I grass thut had no grass on )t. I would ' sow the grass seed on the last snows In the spring, and the seed would sink down into the soil and would be moist ened and would germinate before tho moisture from the spring rains and snows affected deleterlously the roots. That Js the way We get pastures more quickly. Sow the seeds In the last snows In the spring and you will attain that result. "I wish you would try that with regard to reforestation,” I said to them (I was thon In tho Black Hills, speaking to some of our forest people). They said they would try It. 1 advised them to get their seed In ample quantity in the fall, take an 80-acre tract In the spring and sow on tho last snows, I was out there last summer again. It was three years since I had been there and made the suggestion and they had carried out that suggestion. I drove 85 miles to see that 80-acro tract. It seemed to me that every seed had grown, and that was a mile above tho level of the sea. Entirely Trustworthy. From the Chicago Tribune. "Marla, I'm going to have Dr. Squllllps treat me for my heart trouble.” "VVliat do you know about Dr. Squllllps, John?" "All I know about him Is that Mr. Got sum recommends him to me." "Who Is Mr. Ootsum?" "Mr. Gotsum Is one of tho stokhotders of tho life Insurance company that Is carrying a $20,000 risk on my life.” Seattle set a good example In Its plan ning of the Alaska-Yukon-Faclfle ex position, which Is to be held during the coming summer. Instead of tearing down the buildings after the big show Is over, and undoing the costly topo graphical work, $600,000 worth of tho buildings will be turned over to the University of Washington, together with the water, lighting and sewerage systems. Deafness Cannot be Cured by local applications, as they cannot reach the diseased portion of the ear. There is only one way to cure deafness, and that Is by constitutional remedies. Deafness Is caused by an intlamed condition of the mu cous lining of the Eustachian Tube. When this tube is Inflamed you have a rumbling eound or Imperfect hearing, and when It is entirely closed, Deafness Is the result, and unless the Inflammation can be taken out and this tube restored to Its normal condi tion. hearing will be destroyed forever ; nine cases out of ten are caused by Catarrh, which Is nothing but an Inflamed condition of the mucous surfaces. We will give One Hundred Dollars for any case of Deafness (caused by Catarrh) that cannot be cured by Hall’s Catarrh Cure. 8eud for circulars, free. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo. O. Sold by Druggists, 70c. Take Hall s Family Pills for constipation. He Was a Chronic Grouch. From the Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. At a banquet recently one of the speak ers told of a man who was a chronic grouch. Nothing ever suited him, and he grumbled over the most trivial things. Once he had to take to his bed with rheumatism, and notwithstanding the fact that his wife gave him every care ho growled at her incessantly, which caused the good lady's tears to flow'. “How are you getting along, Jake?" asked a friend who called one afternoon. "I am getting worse and worse," com plained Jake, "and It is all my wife's fault." "You surprise me," said the caller. "She seems one of the most devoted nurses I ever saw.” "You don’t know her," returned the rheumatic. "The doctor says that a damp room Is the very worst thing for me. and that woman cornea in here and weeps, just to make their air damp." Evening Dresses of Taffeta Silk. From the May Delineator. TafTeta silk is back again after many months of enforced retirement. It Is used for evening dresses, in the new draped gowns with their overskirts or panniers. In the pale greens and blues I and buffs printed In pompadour effects j ; they are really very pretty, and women will begin to consider them seriously I in the fall. Just now they seem a lit re warm and heavy as we look forward i to the summer months. Nearly 120,000 in rants under a year <»!<i die every year In England. Only 100.000 of these are victims of the , ignorance and carelessness of their ■ mothers. I The House of the Black By F. L. Pattec Ring Copyright, 1905 I CHAPTER VIII—Continued. •'Too bad; too bad; too bad,” he was saying. "I warned him. He brought It on his own self." Then suddenly •he started for the door. No one spoke 'or dlsturbled the silence, nor was there A sound In the storo until tho “clunk plunk” of the old wagon had died away (In the distance. ; Amos and Dan walked rapidly down jtho pike. It was a perfect spring (night. Tho clouds had entirely dis appeared, leaving the sky brilliant with stars that scintillated coldly. Low In tho west, over the ragged scar In the range, the thin curve of a new moon lay pointing upward with sharp horns. Far off In the stillness they could hear the warning growl of Roaring Run, but It only made the silence more complete. They said nothing as they strode down the pike, and they turned Into the Hel ler’s Gap road without a word. The awful warnings of Poppy Miller were echoing In Dan’s ehrs; ho was walking like a man In a dream. A dim light burned In tho Farthing kitchen, but they heard no sound, save (he rattling movements of some creature In the bam. Then they struck Into the old lane to the cabin. The world still wore the fantastic garments of the morning, though much |if the snow had dropped from the trees luring the day. It was a weird, silent (cene, and both of tho men were im pressed by It. The great shadow of the (ap was over them; the walls on either |!do loomed up like ghostly columns as | they saw them In the uncertain light. "Darn creepy place,” observed Dan I it length. "Huh!” sniffed Amos, striding on ttoutly In the lead. Then they came In sight of the cabin, did stopped a moment to reconnolter. fho old house loomed up black arid lepulchral amid the scrubs. A livid ling, unnaturally distinct, surrounded [t. Dan called his companion's atten tion to It, but Amos only grunted. “Come ahead, Dan,” he said gruffly. They strode rapidly to the edge of the snow Hue, then both stopped In stantly as If they had run into »n Invisible wire. There was a light In the cabin, but one so diffused and In distinct that It was Impossible to see Anything within. Dan Tressler turned In a panic, nnd was on the point of fleeing, but Amos gripped him by the K.rm. Brace up. Dan, he hissed In his Bar. "We're going to see this out if It takes a leg. You stay right here; I'm going to find out how many’s in there.” He started out cautiously In a circle around tho cabin, veiling his lantern with his coat and examining the snow with extreme care. At length he came around to where he had started. “Say, Dan,” he said with a trace of excitement In his voice, “there lialn’t a living soul moved in or out of there since tho snow.” "Good lord!” gasped Dan. "Say, Je’s make a rush and touch the old slianty and run.” His nerves were rapidly getting beyond his control. "Not by a long chalk! They prob ably went in there before the snow came the other night. You wait a min ute. I’m going to look In.” He crept nearer. Then there came from within a shrill laugh, fearfully startling In its weird distinctness. In voluntarily Dan gave a nervous cry, and on the Instant they saw a face at the window, a face strangely white and thin, with a framing of hair that even in that uncertain light showed up inky black. Instantly there echoed from within a shriek so ghastly that It shook the nerves even of Amos Hard ing. It was a shrill falsetto, seemingly feminine. He dropped his lantern, so suddenly did it ring out and so fright ful. But his panic was only for an In stant. "Some of them Farthin's are in there, trying to scare us,” he shouted. “Here, I’m coming in! You can’t scare me! You've got tho wrong man, I’ll tell yeh that! Here, open up!” A sudden fury seemed to have seized him. “Open up! Open there!” he yelled. Then he ran against tho door full tilt, but it did not yield. A livid stream of curses in what seemed to bo an old man’s cracked voice followed. Amos took a back step, and hesitated. Then a recollec tion of the group in the store came upon him, and ho faced the cabin again. "Come on, Dan. It’s only the Far thin’s trying to scare us. Stand by me. Dan." he shouted. "Get a stone. I’m goin’ to stave in the old door.” Dan took one step and stopped short; but for Amos he would have turned and fled for his life. For another scream came from the interior, a scream that must Dive come from a woman’s throat, and yet no liv ing woman’s; then a flash of light, in tense and blinding, filtering through the crannies like red fire. For the space of a minute it bathed the scene in a lurid hell red. Even Amos felt his hair creeping, but his blood was up and he would not have turned back now even If the devil himself had confront ed him. The bright light showed him a Jagged piece of limestone at his feet within the dead line. He seized It and began to batter the door. It held out strong ly; he threw all of his strength Into the work. Then the cabin became ut terly dark; it was deathly still now; but he battered on. The bar began to give way; a couple of blows more and the door swung wide open. But Amos did not enter. He held up his lantern and peered within with quivering Interest. Noth ing was in sight; nothing moved; but there was a thick smudge of smoke and a ghastly stench of sulphur. He stood still and listened. No sound save far behind him tho gurgle of Roaring Run, like the rattle in the throat of u dying man. "Come on, Dan,” he ordered excited ly. It was too late to back out now. "I’m going right in there hell bent, darned if I ain’t. Come on. Don’t go back on me, old man.” Dan was no longer master of himself. He moved as In a stupor; the strong will of the other man dominated him. Ho hesitat ed, then took a faltering step toward the door. Amos was out of sight. "Hey, Amos! Where be yeh?” he quavered. He caught a choking breath of the sulphur reek and his knees well nigh gave way beneath him. "Here! This way, quick!” he heard Amos calling. Blindly and automatic ally he rushed in. He found Amos, the stone still In his hand, looking about him warily. The cabin, as they saw it By the light of the lantern, was fur nished apparently as the last occupant had left it years ago. There were two rooms, and In the larger were a be draggled sofa, several kitchen chairs, a cupboard, and a few smaller pieces of fqrnlture. In the kitchen was a stovrf which gave evidences of having been lately used. There were cooking uten sils scattered about. Both rooms were utterly deserted. "Here, they’re upstairs," Amos yelled. "Here, you, come down.” After a mo inent he sprang up the rickety stair way, but the rooms were empty "Then they’re in the cellar!" The door was standing ajar, ; "Come on,” he shouted. "They're not goln’ to fool me. I ain’t goln’ to back out now, darned If I am. Here!" he shouted down the stairway. "Come up and show yourselves, or we’ll go down. There’s a whole gang of us up here, so you don’t stand no show. Who are yeh?” No answer. "All right; here goes!” Amos had his blood up. "Don’t go, Amos; for God’s sake, don't. It’s an aw-w-w-wful hole down there.” "Come along!” he shouted as if in anger, and Dan automatically followed the lantern: better down In the cellar with the light than above without it. There was no one In the cellar. They stood In speechless amazement, a shudder of superstitious horror be ginning to creep over even Amos. “They’re hid,” he cried, though the Idea was not very plausible. They be gan a systematic search. They even prodded the limestone walls for a hid den exit. There was no one In the cellar. They went at length up the stairs again, and searched with minute care through the two rooms and the cham bers above. There was no secret hid ing place—the cabin was deserted. There could be no doubt of It. Amos stood a moment In blank amazement; then a sudden thought struck him. “Here I have It. They skinned out the back way while he was upstairs— that’s Jest what they done. Hold on a minute; let me look for tracks.” With Dan at his heels he circled the cabin again. No one had left the house. The crea tures, whoever they might be, were still In the cabin. “Wal—I'll—be dum—buzzled!" "Come, le’s go," pleaded Dan In a convulsive whisper. "Le’s get out o’ here. Oh, Lord! Jest look at that!” He pointed with shaking hand at the livid ring around the cabin, which seemed to glow and waver with a sort of phosphorescent light. "For God's sake, le’s run. Amos, while we can!” Ho was on the verge of nervous collapse, looking around him fearfully as if something were closo behind him and peering over his shoul der. "Not till I’ve fired this hell-hole!" There was a ring In the man’s voice that held Dan Involuntarily. "Hold the lantern here till I get some kindling wood.” Amos broke up a chair and ripped open the tick of an old lounge. Then he arranged the straw with the wood above It. "Wish I had a can of coal-oil. But I guess this ’ll go.” He struck a match, but the straw was damp. He tried an other and It failed. “Hold on; I’ve got a paper here In my pocket.” He drew out a newspaper which he had received In the evening's mall, opened It, crumpled the sheets to gether, and arranged It under the straw. “Say, I’m going to slop a little of the oil out o’ this lantern.” He unscrewed the little filler, and carefully saturated the paper and straw without extin guishing the light. Then he scratched another match. "What 're doing here?” growled a voice at the door. Both Jumped as if the last trump had sounded In their ears. Dan Tressler let out a yell that vied even with those of a few moments earlier. They turned and saw Allen Farthing. “What's going on here?” he demand ed. "What are you doing?" “I’m going to fire this old hell-coop; that's Jest what I’m goln' to do." Amos had dropped his match, but he felt de liberately In his pocket for another. "Oh, that’s you, is It, Amos and Dan? You the ones that's been making all this yelling?” "No," spoke up Dan. "This house is ha'nted. It was the ghosts yellin’.” "Oh, pshaw! You don’t take any stock in such nonsense as that, do you Amos?” "Stock or no stock, I’m goln’ t<j fire this old hell-kitchen. That’s Jest what I’m goln’ to do." He was sheltering the match-flame with his hands. "Here! Hold on! This is my prop erty. Don’t you fire that straw, Amos." "Reckon I shell.” "All right; go ahead; but it's a se rious matter to burn a man's buildings against his consent. Do as you please gentlemen. But you'll pay the penalty If you do.” He disappeared In a twink ling In the darkness. Amos dropped his match and gave a whistle of astonish ment. "Wal—by—gum!” Ho seized the lan tern and went out quickly. A1 Farth ing had disappeared as if Into the air. For a moment they looked bewilderedly about them, then they started down the road without a word. Once only before they reached the store did Amos open his lips: “W al—I' 11—be—d um—buzzled! ’ ’ CHAPTER IX. THE FIRE ON CHERRY CREEK. The "saplin'-bender” was followed by a week of perfect weather. It was un seasonably warm. The yellow mud. half-spoke-deep on the back roads, be gan to harden Into brick like welts and ragged pits and ruts; the wheat fields had emerged from the snow a livid green, most Intense as viewed against the dun corn lands, and the usual spring fires, the bane of the Seven Mountains, were beginning to creep here and there on the ridges and to throw over the landscape a gauze of smoko that blurred all outlines. It was Sunday afternoon, and a sil ence like that of the Indian summer lay on the valley. The sun, a rim of old brass, hung lustrelessly over the smudge that was Roaring Run, and a cozy twilight was creeping on, even with the sun full in sight. Whether it was the spring day, or whether it was the memory of the Sab bath before when he had tried his best to propose and had been managed out of It, something, it was evident, had stirred Karl Keichllne mightily. As ho had ridden up the Run that morning there had been desperation in his heart. He would settle it before he ever went back again. Ho had tried the gradual approach long enough; he would be abrupt now and stormy. He would make a sudden dash, and de mand yes or no without alternative. The day, however, had passed without progress. She had not evaded him; on the contrary, she had been with him even more than usual; but somehow there had been no chance. It had not seemed her fault. There had been sud den accidents and interruptions and in trusions until it had seemed as if fate Itself were against him. And all day the fever in his heart had burned high er. He had never seen her so Joyous and irresistible, and sweetly feminine; she had awed him, and thrilled him, and captivated him until he was intoxi cated and helpless. But every man has his chance. Suddenly he saw Rose make a dash* across the garden toward the cherry trees. Her cat had caught a robin. "Here, Dick! Here, here, here!” she was calling excitedly. He leaped from the porcli and together they succeeded In cornering the cat In a nook beyond the trees. It made an attempt to get through the chtcken-wlre fence, then dropped the bird and dashed by them. The robin lay still a moment, but as they approached, It fluttered Into a shrub. “Oh, do you think It's hurt?” she asked eagerly. “Not a bit. It’s only scared," he re sponded with conviction. "But Just see how the poor little thing shakes. Just see how he’s rumpled up.” There was a pathetic quiver In her voice. "He’s only frightened, that’s all. He's all right. But Rose”—he changed his tone abruptly—"I want you to mar ry me. Will you, Rose?" She gave him a swift, startled look, then sidled hastily toward the shrub. "Oh, see, his wing must be broken. Just see how it hangs down. Oh, see!” "No, It isn’t. See him fly? But will you marry me. Rose? Say, will you?” He came close to her. There was a tragic, do-or-dle look In his face. "Oh, my dishes 'll get stone-cold. I must go right back.” She started oft decisively, but he kept close to her al most desperately. "But your answer—will you marry me?" "Why, what a question!” "Tes or no, will you marry me?” he repeated doggedly. "No." "You don’t mean It, Rose. You can’t. Say, will you, Rose? You will, won't you?" He came nearer. Somehow she had no desire to laugh now; the affair was becoming dangerous. "But why? Why Bhould I want to marry anybody? She looked him full In the eyes. In the Dutch belt of Pennsylvania maidens are taught that their hearts are shaped very much like a purse, and that love awakes Its true ecstacy only at the sight of the substantial things readily convertible at the county bank. The rural swain, therefore, sel dom advances the flimsy logic, “I love you, and therefore you should wed me,” but he advances boldly with the more convincing argument, "T have 50 acres and $1,000 cash; Is that not enough to make you my wife?” Thus it was that Karl Kclchline at the critical moment began to argue. "I can make you happy, Rose. I have-” "I am happy now. I don’t ask to be any happier." “Yes; but think what we can have. Rose. I’m not poor. I’ll build you a house that 'll beat anything In this whole region, and you shall plan and furnish it. And you shall have the best horses that money can buy, and a stable for them that’s right up to date. 1 can afford it. Rose. Say, will you?” I "I’ve got everything I want now. I j don't ask for another thing better." “But what about a few years from now? Your father and mother are get ting old. Rose.” "And what of that?” She was look ing at him sharply, "I know—but, Rose, you'll need some body to look after you-” “Do I look as If I needed somebody to look after me?" She stood very straight and tall before him. “But you surely are not going to live all alone by yourself your whole life, Rose?” “Oh, possibly not. I may marry some body years and years from now.” She said it as If she were yielding a great point. “It shan’t change your life in the least, Rose. You may be as free as you are now—Just as free, and ever freer. But I want you. Rose; I love : you. I can’t live without you. And I want you now.” He was looking Into her face with an eagerness that waa almost pathetic. “I'm sorry,” she said, a little wave of pity somehow beginning to creep over her tender heart. “But you know really I can’t marry anybody—not for j years and years.” "Perhaps I’ve been sudden Rose. I won’t press It Just now. I'll ask you again next Sunday. You’ll give me youp j final answer then, won’t you?” "I’ve answered you now.” “No, no. You don’t mean that, really. ' You'll think it over and give me the final yes or no next Sunday. You will, won’t you, Rose?" “No." "Rose!” "A week Is not a great while," she said evasively. An image of her father had come before her—eager and plead ing. She knew well that It was his dearest wish to have the marriage at once. He wanted Karl to help him with the present spring’s work. The thing was inevitable after all, and what was ! the use? As well him as any one; yet I somehow she shrank. “You may ask me In a year—five years,” she added ] quickly. “No, no. I want you now. I’ll make [ it two weeks. I Insist on two weeks.” “You may ask me again on the first day of June, If you insist upon It, but not one day earlier.” "But, Rose-” “Not a day earlier.” “But that’s six long weeks. Rose.” “If you object again, I shall make it the first of August.” I “Very well. Then I agree; but, Rose-” I (Continued Next Week.) The Invention of Coinage. From the Saturday Review. The Invention of coinage ia due to the Greeks, most probably the bankers of Halicarnassos and adjacent Asia Minor Greek colonies, who toward the end of the Eighth century B. C. began stamp ing the small gold and electron Ingots which passed through their hands as j currency with a mark of some sort in- ! tended to guarantee the weight and i purity of the metal; such Ingots very I soon assumed a round and more regu lar shape, which we find already in the older silver coins from Aegina, nearly j contemporary with the Asia Minor “beans." Curious to say, none of the surround ing peoples with whom the Asiatic and European Greeks were in constant com munication, political or comn.erctal, took up the wonderful inventloi which at present seems to us of such obvious necessity that we scarcely realize how the civilized world of old can ever have got on without it; as a matter of fact, however, neither the Phoenicians, with their practical commercial sense, nor the Lydians or the Persians, who claimed the supremacy over the very cities where the new currency was in itiated. nor, of course, the Egyptians, ever had coinage, till the conquests of Alexander disseminated the Greek civ ilization all through the Eastern world. The Romans came to know of it ! through the Greek cities in Sicily and Magna Graecia. and began striking sli ver coins toward the beginning of the third century. B. C. In the meantime, with the Greeks, die-sinking, like everything else, had fallen within the domain of art, and their coins, above all those struck during the Fifth and Fourth centuries, B. C„ by the Dorians, of Sicily, at Syracuse and Agrigentum, have never been equaled and remain forever a standard of beauty for the artist and a model of perfection for the die-sinker. A bottle dropped in the gulf Btream as It leaves the Gulf of Mexico will cross the ‘ Atlantic in about ISO days. i - —■■■ , * Ever See a Blonde Indian? From the New York' Frees. Bionae Indians are as rare as Indian blondes, yet there are such. Witnes* Mrs. B. H. Colbert, of the Indian Terri tory. She is an Indian—not a full breed, but .with enough aboriginal blood in her veins to preserve many of the traits of the prairie race. And she Is a blonde of an extreme type. Her complexion is that of a babe, her eyee are the brightest of blue, her hair le the real golden shade. She is proud of hjr Indian ancestry, much prouder of it than of her white descent. In fact, despite her peaches and cream coloring, she is none too fond of pale faces. Mrs. Colbert lives In Tisho mingo, which isn’t as bad as it sound*. She is a Chickasaw, and is accredited with exceptional ability. A memorial has just been erected 1* Kensington cemetery, London, to the memory of Admiral Sir Francis Leo pold McClintock, the Arctic explorer and discoverer of the lost Franklin ex pedition. It takes the form of an old style wheel cross standing on a massive molded base, reaching to a height of 10 feet and erected in rough silver grey Cornish granite. Next year Memphis will try the com mission form of government, .which ha* been so successful at Galveston and Des Moines. t—a FRENCH HORSE BREEDERS How the Present Huge Percheron Ha» Been Evolved. The draught horse Is getting bigger and bigger. In the late '80s. If on* weighing over 1,600 pounds came from France It was an event, and the horse papers talked about him—with pic tures. Today the draught Importer will touch nothing under 1.800 pounds, and 3-year-old colts often run up to a ton The favorite draught breed In Ajner lea—6 or 8 to 1—Is the Percheron of France. He comes from He Perch* southwest of Paris, and nowhere else The horse breeders of that dlstrle' have handed themselves Into a guild, or union, says Collier's, and decreed that no hot-se from outside the borders of their district can ever be recorded as a Percheron’ In the stud book of the breed. A colt foaled Just across the line out of a mare and by a sire cor rectly registered cannot himself be reg (stored. The foundation blood of the Perch eron is, or is said to be, Arab. The Frenchman will tell you that a Perch eron Is an Arab “made heavy’’ by the climate. But whether Arabian extract or not, It Is sure that the breed has been made heavy by the climate or human selection during the past half century. When George Sand wrote the Perch eron was famous as a road horse, a traveller, a ground coverer. Her he roes used to drive hither and thither “behind four splendid distance eating Percherons." No modern Frenchman would dream of driving up to his Nln ette’s door behind four Percherons. The Perche peasants are artists, sculptors, who within the limitations of their material most wonderfully fashion Into being their equine Imag inlngs. It Is much easier and simpler to carve a horse of the shape you want on the Parthenon frieze than out In a Lucerne pasture In the Eure-et-Lolr district. Dazed by their artistry, the French minister of agriculture gravely reports-. “These men of Le Perche are ^ Incrpdlhle! Command from them a ” horse, they will build you one to your specifications.” From the current report of th*» French horse breeding bureau It K learned that during the fiscal year 16!. 114 mares were bred to stallions be lor.glng to the state: 81.207 to approved stallions, 9.467 to authorized stallions That Is bureaucratic, isn’t it?—that a. country should be able to report a thins like that. And In the archives of the French government Is the name and description of each mare In France, to gether with data about the horse to which she was bred. The French never dream of breeding to stallions of mixed or unknown blood. But the American farmer who bred his mare to a Percheron for a heavy colt usually changes his mind a couple of years later, puts what he got from the first cross to a coach horse for style and the grand result to a Jack for a mule. As a horse breeder, he doesn't shine, as M. Vallee de Loncea re marked. He looks only at the outside uf a sire (and apparently not so very carefully at that) and cares little what kind of blood Is running Inside. OLD SOAKERS Get Saturated vrltli Caffeine. When a person has used coffee for a. number of years and gradually declined In health. It Is time the coffee should be left off In order to see whether or '"J not that has been the cause of the trou ble. A lady In Huntsville, Ala., says she used coffee for about 40 years, and for the past 20 years was troubled with stomach trouble. “I have been treated by many physi cians but all tn vain. Everything failed to perfect a cure. I was prostrated for lome time, and came near dying. When I recovered sufficiently to partake of food and drink I tried coffee again ami It soured on my stomach. “I finally concluded coffee was the cause of my troubles and stopped using ■t. I tried tea and then milk In its place, but neither agreed with me, then I commenced using Poetum. I had it properly made and It was very pleasing to the taste. “I have now used It four months, and health Is so greatly Improved that I can eat almost anything I want anA ran sleep well, whereas, before, I suf fered for years with Insomnia. i have found the cause of my trou b.es and a way to get rid of them You ran depend upon it I appreciate Poet um." “There's a Reason." Read “tj,* ' Rond to Wellville," in pkgs. * Ever read the above letter? A new one appears from time to time bunfaif7nterest.ne' “"d ,uU