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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 10, 1910)
CHICAGO MERCHANT MAKES STATEMENT. After Spending Thousands of Dollars and Consulting the Most Eminent Physicians, He Was Desperate. CHICAGO, ILLS.—Mr. J. Q. Becker, of 134 Van Buren St., a well-known wholesale dry goods dealer, states as follows: "I have had catarrh for more than thirty years. Have tried everything on earth and spent thousands of dollars for other Medicines and with physicians, without getting any lasting re lief, and can say to you that I have found Peruna the only rem edy that has cured me per manently. "Peruna has also cured my wife of catarrh. She always keepl It In the house for an attack ol cold, which it invariably cures in ■ very short time.” Sloan’s Liniment is the best remedy for sprains and bruises. It quiets the pain at once, and can be applied to the tenderest part without hurting because it doesn’t need to be rubbed — all you have to do is to lay it on lightly. It is a powerful prepa ration and penetrates instantly — relieves any inflammation and con gestion, and reduces the swelling. Here’s the Proof. Mr. L. Roland, Bishop of Scran ton, Pa. says:—"On the 7th of this present month, as I was leaving the building at noon for lunch, I (lipped and fell, spraining my wrist. 1 returned in the afternoon, and at four o’clock I could not hold a pen cil in my hand. I returned home later and purchased a bottle of Sloan's Liniment and used it five or six times before I went to bed, and the next day I was able to go to work and use my hand as nsual.” Sloan’s Liniment is an excellent anti septic and germ killer— heals cuts, burns, wounds and contusions, and will draw the poison from sting of poi sonous insects. 26o.,60c. and $1.00 Nloan’i book on hor««i, entile, ah*ep and poultry teal IVee. Address Dr. Earl S. Sloan, Boston, Mass., TJ.8A Excellent Reason. From London Sketch. '“Ol’ll work no more for that man Dolan.” "An' why?" "Shure, and 'tls on account av a re mark hr made.” . "An' phwat was that?” 1 "Says tie, 'Casey,’ says lie, ‘ye're dis charged.’ " Bad Doble, The greatest of all horsemen, says: "In my 40 years' experience with horses 1 have found Spohn's Distem per Cure the most successful of all remedies for the horses. It Is the greatest blood purifier." Bottle, 50c and $1 00. Druggists can supply you, or manufacturers. Agents wanted. Send for Free Book. Spohn Medical Co.. Spec. Contagious Diseases, Goshen, Ind. The Last Straw. From Judge. An attendant at n Kansas Institute tor tile deaf and dumb was undergoing li pointless rapidflre Inquisition ut the hands of a female visitor. "But how do you summon these poor mutes to church?" she asked finally, with what was meant to be a pitying glance at the inmates near by. "By ringing the dumbbells, madam," retorted the exasperated attendant. Constipation causes and aggravates many serious diseases. It Is thoroughly cured by Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pellets The favorite family laxative. A man is never actually happy in tIre presence of misery, but most men can make a noise like it. Men arc measured by what they don't say even more than by what they do sa y. WHEN YOU'RE AS HOARSE »*M-rotv. When rou’re coughing and sniping. When you've tin oUi Inahtoited deep-seated cold, take Align'* Lung Hnl atm. bold by al 1 druggists, 26c, 60c and fl 00 bottle*. A balky horse Is the product of per nicious association with a man who does not possess "horse sense." Too mu< h time Is spent In wishing that one could start over again, and too little *n keeping the start one has. A NOTRE DAME LADY’S APPEAL. To all knowing sufferers of rheumatism whether muscular or of the Joints, sciat ica, lumbagos. backache, pains In Ihe kid neys or neuralgia pains, to write to iter for a borne treatment which lias repeat edly cured all of these tortures. She feels it bet duty to send it to all sufferers FKKK You cute yourself at home as thousands will testify—no change of cli mate being necessary. This shtipio discov ery banishes uric acid from the blood, loosens the stiffened Joints, purifies the blood, and brightens the eyes, giving elas ticity and tone to the whole system. If the above interests you. for proof address Mr*. M Bummers, Box 1, Notre Dame. li»d. , . :^JHE WILD GEESE Stanley J.Weuman. ^ — (Copyright, 1909, by Stanley J. Weyrnan.) CHAPTER XXII.—(Continued.) The girl recoiled, outraged and angry. But, knowing her brother was at hand, and seeing In a flash what might hap pen In the event of a collision, she did so in silence, hoping to escape before he came upon them. Unfortunately Payton misread her silence and took her movements for a show of feigned modesty. With a movement as quick as hers, he grasped her roughly, dragged her toward him and kissed her. She screamed then In sheer rage— screamed with such passion that Pay ton let her go and stepped back with an oath. As he did so he turned, and the turn brought him face to face with James McMurrough. The young man, tipsy and smarting with his wrongs, saw what was before his eyes—his sister in Payton’s arms— but he saw something more. He saw the man who had thwarted him that day, and whom he had not at the time dared to beard! What he might have done had he been sober matters not. Drink and vindictiveness gave him more than the courage he needed, and, with a roar of anger, he dashed the glass he was carrying—and its con tents—into Payton’s face. The Englishman dropped whore he was, and James stood over him, swear ing, while the grease guttered from the tilted candle in his right hand. Flavia gasped, and, horror struck, clutched James’ arm as he lifted the candlestick and made as if he would beat In the man's brains. Fortunately a stronger hand .than hers interfered. Asgill dragged the young man back. "Haven’t you done enough?” he cried. “Would you murder him.” "Ah, didn’t you see, curse you, he” ‘T know, I know!" Asgill answered, hoarsely. "But not now! Not now! Let him rise if he can! Let him rise, I say! Payton!" The moment James stood back the fallen man staggered to his feet, ami though the blood was streaming down his face from a cut on the cheekbone, he showed that he was less hurt than startled. "You'll give me satisfaction for thus!” he muttered. "You’ll give me satisfaction for this,” lie repeated, between his teeth. "Alt, by heaven, I will!" James Mc Murrough answered furiously. "And kill you, too!" “At 8 tomorrow! Do you hear? At 3 tomorrow! Not an hour later!" -I ~~' through the long, restless, torturing hours. James tried to utter the oath that, deceiving her, might rid him of her presence. But his nerves, shaken by his overnight drink, could not command his voice even for that. His eyes dropped In shame: the muttered, "What the plague will you be wanting at this hour?” was no more than a querulous whisper.” "I couldn't sleep,” she said, avoiding his eyes. "I, no more,” he muttered. “Curse him! Curse, you. too! Why were you getting in his way? You've as good as murdered me with your tricks and your poses!” “Heaven forbid!" she exclaimed. “Ah, you have," he anwered, rocking himself to and fro in ids excitement. “If it were any one else, I’m as ready to fight as another. But he's killed four men, and he'd kill me. Oh, if I'd not come up at that minute. If I'd not come up at that minute.” The picture of what he would have escaped had he mounted the stairs a minute later was too much for him. Not a thought did he give to what might have happened to her had lie came on the scene later; but, with all Ills cowardly soul laid bare, he rocked himself to and fro in a paroxysm of self-pity. Yet he did not suffer more sorely un der tiie lash of ills own terrors than Flavia suffered—seeing him thus, the braggadocio stripped from him, and the poor, cringing creature displayed. If she had thought too much of her de scent—and the more in proportion as fortune had straightened the line, and only in this corner of a downtrodden land was Its greatness even a memory : —she was chastened for it now. She could have wept tears of shame. And yet, so plain was the collapse of the man before her that she did not think of reproach, even had she found heart to chide him, knowing that her words might send him to his death. All her thought was, could she hide the blot? Could she, at any rate, so veil It that the Insolent Englishman, tills bully of the conquering race, might not perceive it? That were worth so much that her own life seemed a small price to pay for it. But alas! she could not purchase it with her life. Only in fairy tales can the woman pass for the man and Doris receive in her tender bosom the thrust Intended for the sterner breast. Then could they shun at least open disgrace —open dishonor? For it needed but a glance at her brother's pallid face to “It's you that struck him after he was disarmed,” cried Morty. “I’ll not keep you waiting," James ■etorted. Flavia leaned almost fainting against ler door. She tried to speak,' but her mice failed her. And Payton's livid, scowling, bleed ng face was hate itself "Behind the tows In the garden?" he said, disre garding her presence. "Ah, 1 11 meet you there?" The Mc Rurrough answered, pot-valiant. “And, nore by token, order your coffin, for tou’ll need it!" Drink and rage left to place In his brain for fear. "That will be seen—tomorrow," the Englishman answered, In a tone that ■hilled the girl’s marrow. Then, with lls kerchief pressed to his cheek to Ranch the blood, he retreated to his mom and slammed the door. They learil him turn the key In It. Flavia found her voice. She looked it her brother. "Ah, heavens!" she .’Tied. “Why did I open my door?” James, still pot-valiant, returned her look. "Because you were a fool," he mid. "But I’ll spit him, never fear! Faith, and 111 spit him like a fowl!” In his turn he went on unsteadily to his room, disappeared within It, and closed the door. Flavia and Asgill remained together. Her eyes met his. "Ah, why did I open my door?" she cried. "Why did I?" He had no comfort for her. He shook his head, but did not speak. "He will kill him!” she said. Asgill reflected In a heavy silence. "I will think what can be done," he mut tered at last. "Do you go to bed." "To bed?” she cried. "There Is naught to be done tonight," he answered, in a low tone. "If the troopers were not with him—but that is useless. And—his door Is locked. Do you go to bed, and I will think what we can do." "To save James?” She laid her hand on Asgill's arm. and he quivered. "Ah. you will save him!" She had forgotten her brother's treatment of her earlier In the day. "If I can," he said slowly. His face was damp and very pale. "If I can," he repeated. “Put it will not be easy to save him honorably." CHAPTER XXIII. BEHIND THE YEWS. The passages were still gray and chill when one of the bedchamber doors opened and a face peeped out. The face was Flavia's Presently the girl stepped forward—paused, scared by a board that creaked under her naked foot— then went on again. She reached one of the doors, : nd scratched on it with her nail. No one answered the summons and she pushed the door open and went In. As she had feared, enlightened by As glll's hint, she found James was awake and sitting up in his bed, his arms clasped about his knees. His eyes met hers as she entered, and In his eyes, and in his form, huddled together as In sheer physical pain, she read beyond all doubt fear. Why she had felt certain, courageous herself, that this was what she would ftnd she did not know. But there It was, as she had foreseen It, assure her that, brought to the field, he I would prove unequal to the task of cloaking his fears. She sickened at the thought, and her ! eyes grew hard. Was this the man in whom she had believed? And when he turned on his side and hid his face in the pillow and groaned she had small pitto spare for him. “Can't you be seeing?" he answered I fractiously; but for very shame he could not face her eyes. "Cannot you be seeing I am not fit to get up? See how my hand shakes!" “What is to be done, then?” He cursed Payton thrice in a frenzy of rage. He beat the pillow with his fist. "That does no good,” she said. "I believe you want to kill me!" he complained with childish passion. “I believe you want to see me dead! Why can't you be managing your own affairs, without — without, heavens!” And then, in a dreadful voice, "I shall be dead tonight! And you care noth- | ing!" He hid unmanly tears on his pillow, while she looked at the wall, pale to the lips. Her worst misgivings had not pictured a thing so mean as this, a spirit so poor. And this was her brother, her idol, he to whom she had | fondly looked to revive the glories of the race. Truly she had been blind. She had spoken to Luke Asgill the night before, and he would help her. she believed. But for that she would have turned, us her thoughts did turn, to Colonel John. But he lay prostrate, and the O’Belrnes were out of the question; she could not tell them. Youth has no pity, makes no allowance, ! expects the utmost, and a, hundred times they had heard James "brag and brawl. And Ulcle Ulick was away. i There remained only Luke Asgill. "If you are not well,” she said, in the same hard voice, "shall I be telling Mr. Asgill? He may contrive something.” The man sweating on the bed leaped at the hope, as he would have leaped ■ at any hope. Nor was he so upset by I fear as not to reflect that, whatever j Flavla asked Asgill would do. "Ah, | tell him,” he cried, raising himself on j his elbow. "Do you be telling him! He can make him—wait, may be.” At that moment she came nearly hating her brother. "I will send him to you," she said. "No!" he cried anxiously. “No! Do you be telling him! Do you hear? I am not so well to see him." She shivered seeing plainly the u'n mlxed selfishness of the course he urged. But she had not the heart to answer him. She went from the room and going back to her own chamber, she dressed. By this time the house was astir, the June sunshine was pour ing with the songs of birds through the windows. She heard one of the O'Beirnes stumble downstairs. Next Asgill opened his door and passed down. In a twinkling she followed , him, making a sign to him to go on, and led him Into the open air. Nor when they were outside did she speak until she had put the courtyard be tween herself and the house. For she would have hidden their shame from all If she could! Even to say what she had to say cost her In humiliation more than her brother had paid for aught in his selfish life. But it had to be said, and after a pause, and with eyes averted, "My brother is ill,” she faltered. "He cannot meet —that man this morning. It is—as you feared. And—what can we do?” In another case Luke Asgill would have blessed the chance that linked him with her, cast her on his help. He had guessed, before she opened her mouth, what she had to say—nay, for hours he had lain sleepless on his bed, anticipating it. He had been certain of the Issue—he knew James McMur rough; and, being a man who loved Flavia indeed, but loved iife also, he had foreseen, with the cold sweat on his brow, what he would be driven to do. He made no haste to answer, there fore. and his tone, when he did answer, was dull and lifeless. "Is it ill he is?” lie asked. "It's a bad morning to be ill and a meeting on hand." She did not answer. "Is he too bad to stand?” he con tinued. He made no attempt to hide his comprehension or his scorn. "I don’t say that,” she faltered. "Perhaps he told you,” Asgill said— and there was nothing of the lover in his tone—“to speak to me?” She nodded. "It is I am to—put It off, I suppose?" pose ?” "If it be possible,” she cried. “Oh, if it be possible! Is it?" He stood, thinking, with a gloomy face. From the first he had seen that there were two ways out of extricating The McMurrough. The one by a mild explanation, which would leave his honor in the mud. The other by an ex planation after a different fashion, with the word "liar” ready to answer to the word "coward." But he who gave this last explanation must be willing to back Die word with the deed, and stop cavilling with the sword point. Now, Asgill knew the Major’s skill with the sword; none better. And un der other circumstances, the justice cold, selfish, scheming—would have gone many a mile about before he en tered upon a quarrel with him. None the less, love had drawn him to con template this very thing. For surely if he did tlds and lived, Flavia would smile on him. .Surely, if he saved her brother’s honor, she would be won. It was a forlorn, It was a desperate expe dient. For no other advantage would Luke Asgill have faced the Major's sword point. But, whatever he was, he loved. He loved! And for the face and form beside him, and for the quality of soul that shone from the girl's eyes, and made her what she was, and to him different from all other women, he had made up his mind to run the risk. It went for something that he be lived that Flavia, if he failed her, would go to Colonel Sullivan. If she did that, I Asgill was sure that his own chance < was at an end. This was his chance, i It lay with him now, today, at this mo- ! ment—to dare or to retire, to win her ’ favor at the risk of his life, or to yield c her to another. In the chill morning : hour he had discovered that he must i risk all or lose all; and he had decided. "I will make it possible,” he said, slowly, questioning in his mind whether he dared make terms with her. "I will make it possible,” he repeated, still j more slowly, and with his eyes fixed on ■ her face. “If you could!” she cried, clasping : her hands. "I will!" he said, a sullen undertone in his voice. His eyes still dwelt darkly j on her. "If he raises an objection, I i will fight him—myself!” , She shrank from him. “Ah, but I i can’t ask that!” she cried, trembling. ; "It is that or nothing.” "That or” “There is no other way,” he said. , He spoke with the same ungracious- ] ness; for, try as he would, and though the habit and the education of a life cried to him to treat with her and make conditions, he could not; and he was enraged that he could not. The more as her wet eyes, her quick, , mounting color, told of her gratitude. , In another moment she might have said , a word fit to unlock his lips. And he would have spoken; and she would , have pledged herself. But Fate, in the ■ person of old Darby, intervened. Time- , ly or untimely, the butler appeared in , the distant doorway, cried "Hist!” and, j by a backward gesture warned them . of some approaching peril. . "I fear”-- she began. "Yes, go!” Asgill replied, almost , roughly. “He is coming, and he must ( not find us together.” The garden gate had barely closed on her skirts before Payton Issued ' from the courtyard. The Englishman paused an instant in the gateway, his j sword under his arm and a handker chief in his hand. Thence he looked ] up and down the road with an air of confidence that provoked Asgill beyond measure. The sun did not seem bright , enough for him, nor the air scented to his liking. Hastily he approached the Irishman, who, affecting to be engaged with his own thoughts, had kept his distance. "Is he ready?” he asked, with a sneer. I With an effort Asgill controlled him self. “He is not," he said. “At his prayers, is he? Well, he’ll need thim." "He is not, to my knowledge,” Asgill replied. "But he is Hi.” "Payton’s face lightened with a Joy 1 not pleasant to see. "A coward!” he said coolly. ”1 am not surprised. Ill, ’ is he? Ay, I know that illness. It’s not the first time I’ve met it!" (Continued Next Week.) Stick to the Farm. "Stick he farm," says the President To t..e wl.le-eyed farmer boy. Then he hies him back to his White 1 House home. With its air of rustic joy. 1 "Stick to the farm,” says the railroad ' king To the lad who looks afar, Then hikes him back on the double-quick 1 To his rustic private car. “Stick to the farm,” says the clergyman To the youth on the worm fence perch, - Then lays hts ear to the ground to hear A call to a city church, “Stick to the farm,” says the dostor wise To those who would break the rut. Then hies him where the appendix grows In bountiful crops to cut. —New York Sun. The Wisdom of Youth. From the National Monthly. , They were expecting an addition to the family and the daughter aged 10. was sent to the country to stay with relatives. Johnny, aged 9, remained at i home. When the new arrival had made its appearance Johnny's father wrote a long telegram to his little daughter in the country, announcing that on her re turn home she would find a new broth er awaiting her. The family gave Johnny J1 to go out and send the telegram. When Johnny returned he handed his father 60 cents change, "How Is this?” asked the father. "Your telegram was too long father and I cut it down and saved your mon ey,” said Johnny . "What did you say In the telegram?’ the father asked. Johnny handed him a copy of the telegram. It read: "Susie Smith. Blngville, Ohio: "Dear Sister—I win. It's a boy. "Johnny." ELEMENTS WILL MIX ' IT BAD DURING 1910 Rev. Irl R. Hicks Takes Gloomy Look Into the Year, Predict ing Many Bad Storms. DES MOINES THE CENTER Says a Twister That Will Out-Twisf Anything That Ever Happened Will Strike Capital—Planets Will War. From the Sioux City Tribune. Iowa is to experience one of the worst storms in its history during the coming year, according to the almanac af Rev. Irl R. Hicks, of St. Louis, copies of which have Just reached Sioux City, j^s a long range weather forecaster, Rev. Mr. Hicks stands un ?qualed. While the reverend gentle nan is considered a Joke by scientists ind government weather men, each rear he Issues his weather prognosti cations, unconcerned at the scoffers and inbelievers of his theories. Rev. Mr. Hicks is regarded as a pes simist, but this year his forecast is In leed gloomy and foreboding. He says hat between the dates of January 27 md October 29 Des Moines will bo rislted by a cyclone that will put all 'ormer wind storms in the shade. Al hough a definite date is not deslg mted, the St. Louis prophet declares hat In the Interval mentioned Iowa .vill be a seething, whirling storm cen :er. Starts in February. The storm will begin in February, when a raging blizard is due to sweep icross the state. It is called a "crisis o a reactionary period,” and Hicks idds: "Without the slightest pretense of :laim to prophetic knowledge, we again leclare that 1910 ‘will have its victims >f storm weather.’ With equal truth md emphasis we may also repeat that all years have them.’ And Just as ruthfully may we affirm that almost .00 per cent of loss and suffering and leath will occur within the limitations >f periodic times, defined and charted n this almanac ns storm and danger jerlods. We could not afford to put his declaration on this page, if we vere not gladly willing for thousands o say whether the history of our work or 40 years Justifies it.” This same storm will cause trouble n all parts of the globe in the opinion >f Rev. Mr. Hicks. Cyclones and tor ladoes will be In order everywhere, and le says the loss of life will be great, rhe month of April will furnish inter ■stlng news for the papers, storms vis ting cities and causing wholesale de duction. Planets Will Mix It. Following these disturbances floods vill be in order, and the planets Venus, Darth and Mercury will engage in a riangular fight, causing storm ructions hat will bear watching. Fourth of July will furnish its own ireworks, according to Rev. Mr. Hicks. Jue to the little scrifnmage of the >lanets, there will be severe thunder itorms during th ■ first three days of he month, culminating with a dazzling ■lectrlcal storm on the night of the hird, followed by a chilly spell on the ourth. Fall a Bad One. In the fall of the year will come itorms which will do millions of dol ars worth of damages. Concerning his the prophet says: ’’Within the recollection of this storm irophet, millions upon millions of dol ars worth of ships and cargoes have >een destroyed and hundreds of lives lave been lost in October storms on he great northern lakes. There is a ; endency of fierce northwesterly gales iver all that region, annually, in Octo >er and November, but this tendency s increased when a Venus equinox falls n these months. The storm diagram hows a Venus period central on Oeto >er 13 and extending into November, rhe Mercury period coming into force ‘ he last week of the month, blending ! vith the Venus period, as already loted, will breed storm and weather onditions, especially on and about the rreat lakes, and perhaps on the north ' Atlantic seas and coasts, that ought to ' >ut shippers and navigators on their 1 ruard. We thus repeat and emphasize he warning.” ' If 1910 was ushered in with a raging ■ dizzard it will not go out as a lamb, or it will be very cold and on Christ- ! nas day there will be blowing a regu ar blizzard. - l written for young friends, this poem is, so far as known, Mr. Gilder’s last piece i of verse.] low many bards have sung Love in glad < valleys (And chiefly one who lately passed from earth!)— Divinely’ congruous, Love with Nature dallies, And, under soilless skies, hath happy birth; Vhere the green burns to gold, or in deep woods, ?hrobs love ’twixt man and maid in thousand moods. ret, ’gainst whate’er would thwart it, Love achieves; It thrives by opposition and delay’; • t makes its habitation where there lives Not one sweet growth to feed it; Love hath way’ n barren lands, cold winters, stormy weather, n happy freedom, or in steely tether. 'he violent town, the harsh world’s shrieking mart— Casual, cruel, crowded, ever-shifting— Cven there hath Love its undestructed part, As if. in calm, down lilied waters drifting; ^nd many a heart, in hidden joy, re members, . n roaring streets, its Junes and dear 1 December. September 15, 1909. -Richard Watson Gilder in the Century. 1 early. Bridget dear. Canine Etiquet. From the Atlantic. In their relations with one another, logs have a keen sense of • tiquet. A veil known traveler makes this unex )eeted remark about a tribe of naked flack men, living on one of the South sea islands.; “In their every day in ereourse there is much that is stiff, ormal, and precise.’’ Almost the same •emark might be made about dogs. Un ess they are on very intimate terms, hey take great pains never to brush igainst or even to touch one another. For one dog to step over nnother is a ! langerous breach of etiquet unless I ;hey are special friends. It is no un common thing for two dogs to belong to I he same person, and live in the same i»use, and yet never take the slight est notice of each other. We have a spaniel so dignified that he will never yermlt another member of the dog fam ly to pillow his head upon him; but. cvlth the egotism of a true aristocrat, le does not hesitate to make use of the >ther dogs for that purpose. There is no editor so sour that h*» will not take a Joke, but sometime® he will not give credit for it. Mnnyon’* Paw Paw pills coax the liver into activity by gentle methods. They do not scour, gripe or weaken. They are a tonic to the stomach, liver ana nerves; invigorate instead of weaken. They enrich the blood and enable the stomach to get all the nourishment from food that is put into it. These pills con tain no calomel; they are soothing, heal ing and stimulating. For sale by all drug gists in 10c and 25c sizes. If you need medical advice, write Munyon’s Doctors. They will advise to the best of their abil ity absolutely free of Charge. MUN YON’S, 53d and Jefferson Sts., Phil adelphia, Pa. Munyon’s Cold Remedy cures a cold In one day. Price 25c. Munyon’s Rheuma tism Remedy rel leves in a few hours an<J cures in a few days. Price 25c. PASSING OF THE TRAPPER. (From St. Louis Post-Dispatch.) The forward march of civilization has reached the wilds of the Canadian north and trappers report that their nusiness is rapidly becoming unproflt ible on account of the frequency of the settlements. That stae of affairs is :o he expected and the wonder is that the situation has not become more icute long ago. It is remarkable that ;he business has continued profitable. History has repeated itself In this is in all other things. The advance ;uard of civilization was years behind l class of hardy trappers who earned :Heir livelihood in the solitude of the forests by taking animals for their furs. As civilization advanced the number of trappers became larger and :he amount of game diminished until :here was no longer a profit to be had from the business. It began with Maine and Massachu jetts and continued to the westward nntil the United States was no longer fenable for the trapper. The Hudson Bay company preserved the frozen north of Canada for half a century aft >r the United States had ceased to be i profitable hunting ground, but the inward march of the railroads and the iver restless wave of liomeseekers has it last advanced to the very outposts >f the Hudson Bay territory. Gold and ivheat have been the lodestones and the rapping business suffers. Where will we get our furs in the future? We will raise them. For farming, skunk farming, cat farming tnd the hundred and one other kinds )f animal raising will take the place >f the trapper and his gun. Other fur flearing animals will soon be taught to lat out of the hand of man just as the lomestic animals of the farm have been doing for centuries. Man will limply enlarge his control of the lower inimels, enlarge his control over the ’ur-bearing as well as the food-bear ng animals. Why His Mother Mourned. From the Indianapolis Star. William M. Fogarty has a story about i good old Irish woman whose son was ibout to start for a trip around the vorld. She had watched him prosper with • bride. To her he was a great man. In ler fond vision she could see all sorts if terrible tidings coming to him, but ihe held her peace until he had started or the journey. Then she began to ■ry. A neighbor tried to console her, but to no avail. “I’m afraid he hasn’t the money to fet back," said the mother weeping, de’s got the money to go round the vorld all right, but how will he ever tot back?" The men who strike for their “altars ind their fires,” generally succeed In breaking the one and quenching the ither. GET POWER. The Supply Come* from Food. If we get power from food, why not strive to get all the power we can? rhat is only possible by use of skil 'ully selected food that exactly fits the •equirements of the body. Poor fuel makes a poor fire and a poor fire Is not a good steam producer. .‘•From not knowing how to select :he right food to fit my needs, I suf fered grievously for a long time from itomach troubles,” writes a lady from i little town in Missouri, "It seemed as If I would never be ible to find out the sort of food that was best for me. Hardly anything that 1 could eat would stay on my stomach. Every attempt gave me heartburn and Hied my stomach with gas. I got thin ner and thinner until I literally be :ame a living skeleton and in time was ■ompelled to keep to my bed. “A few months ago I was persuaded o try Grape-Nuts food, and It had such ?ood effect from the very beginning ;hat I have kept up its use ever since. [ was surprised at the ease with which [ digested it. It proved to be just what I needed. "All my unpleasant symptoms, the heartburn, the inflated feeling which save me so much pain disappeared. My weight, gradually increased from 98 to 116 pounds, my figure rounded nut, my strength came back, and I am now able to do my housework and en |oy It. Grape-Nuts did it." A ten days’ trial will show anyone some facts about food. Look In pkgs. for the little book, ‘The Road to Wellvllle.” "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.