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DID REALLY MEAN IT ONCE
Newspaper Man’s Flowery Compll
ments Not Altogether a Complete
Case of Bunk.
William D. Hassett, one of the
sharks on diplomacy and Internation
al afTalrs In Washington, covers the
state department for a big news as
soclatlon. One day another reportei
covering the same run rushed up tc
him with this request:
"Bill, flx mo up a nice little story
about this affair for my paper. You
know more about this than anybody.’
Hassett not being particularly busy
at that time, complied with the re
quest
Half an hour later the same mar
came back and requested:
"Bill, please flx me up another lit
tie story. You know you're the bosl
Informed man In regard to this par
tlcular subject.”
BUI again wrote the story. The oth
or man came hack the third time.
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hope you don’t think It’s because I'n
falling for this bunk of yours about
how much I know.”
"Well,” said the other, rubbing hli
chin, “It was on the level the flrsl
time.”—Popular Magazine.
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Bankruptcy Decision.
Tho supreme court of New Jersej
holds In Bolton vs. Bolton that wher
a wife goes into bankruptcy the trus
tee in bankruptcy is entitled to talu
possession of arrears of alimony dut
her for the benefit of tho creditors
The court said:
“When it is considered that durlnj
the period of non-payment the wif<
has in all probability been contract
ing debts for her support on the faltl
of recovering these payments, and tha
alimony is awarded for the expresi
purpose of her support by paying ii
cash its she goes along, and when i
Is considered further that by her dll
charge in bankruptcy these debts ari
wiped out, it seems manifestly unjus
that the creditors should have no re
course to tho very fund that the dl
vorce court provided to pay them.”
Appropriate.
Mrs. Winks—When is Miss Hard
cash to marry the count?
Mrs. Sinks—On Monday.
Mrs. Winks—Oh, of course. I migh
have known. Monday is bargaii
day.
There are only 20 persons in Franc
with a yearly income of more tha:
$1,000,000.
AMaioe ef Ebdraordin ary 0 istincta
The Marshal
By^hry Raymond Shipman Andrews
Aujh°r j^e perfecf Tribute. eta
Copyright, Th* Robba-Merrfll Comparer*
CHAPTER I.
A PROPHECY.
It was Francois who had his way.
Pierre clamored for the story of the
old witch and the horses; Marie begged
to hear about the white ducks and the
princess; Tomas, at the top of his
lungs, demanded the episode of the
man who fell off the church steeple;
each child wished a particular tale.
Half a dozen high, little French voices
floated shrilly out Into the garden, on
a sunshiny morning of 1820 from the
great entry of an old farm house In
the valley under the Jura mountains.
The grandmother, sitting white-capped
In the center of the hubbub, heard one
more willingly than the others, for not
only was Francois h.er best loved, but
also the story he asked for was the
story she liked to tell.
In the large kitchen beyond the open
door the eun lay In patches on the
bare, scrubbed floor, and the mother
moved swiftly, getting dinner ready
against 12 o'clock, when the father
should come in from the fields; it was
the grandmere’s hour to amuse the
children. And today they were all
pleading at once for a story, clapping
hands, lumping up and down as if life
depended on the choice. Suddenly, In
the excess of enthusiasm, Tomas and
Francois and Pierre were In a heap,
sprawling at her feet on the earth
floor of the entry.
"Stop, stop." said the granmother.
"Good children do not go so fast," and
she carefully sorted out the heap.
"You, Francois, you are too quick—
you will finish by hurting yourspir.
Stand here quiet, near me, and lWten
well," and, her arm about him, she
drew the boy close.
"You will tell my tale, grandmere—
the tale of 'Napoleon Comes’?” he asked
eagerly, and the grandmother smiled;
It waB what she wished to tell.
And now. with the faces of the chil
dren turned toward her, she pushed the
big horn-frumed glasses up on her
brow, buried her knitting needles deep
in scarlet wool, and folding her work
carefully, laid it In the work box. All
five watched ceremony, the methodi
cal habit of a lifetime, and little Marie
gave a trembling sigh as it ended. Only
that sound broke the stillness, and In
a moment the grandmother’s voice be
gan.
Francois, it you pincn your urouici
you c.re not a good child, and cannot
listen to the story," she admonished.
"He quiet, then, and you shall hear how
the emperor came to this house, and
sat In the great room there—Na
poleon!”
The five pairs of eyes followed hers
as she glanced toward the door. "Yes,
at that table he sat,” the gentle voice
went on, "with his great officers about
him, with their uniforms and bright
facings and gold buttons, and their
swords clanking as they walked, and
their three-cornered hats, waving
plumes, on their heads. Hut tlens—I
must go back—I must tell it rightly,
the story of Napoleon." At the name
tile grandmother’s head seemed to lift,
and dignity was in her manner. The
boy against her arm, ills brown eyes,
of uncommon size and intensity, fast
ened on hers, thrilled.
“Yeu, grandmere, from the begin
ning," he said earnestly.
Smiling again, tiie grandmother be
gan. “You must know', my children,
that it was on a day in the month of
May, in the year 1813. that he came.
You, Lucie, and you, Pierre, and Mario
were not born, only Francois and
Tomas. Francois was the older—not
quite 3 years old. The mother had gone
to care for your Aunt I.ucie, who was
111, and I kept the house for your father.
It was the year of the great conscrip
tion. when the emperor took all the
men to fight, not only the strong ones,
but the boys, and the old and infirm,
if they might but drag themselves at
the tall of a regiment. So the few men
who were not under the flag were sore
ly needed by their families, for it was
necessary, if the women and children
were not to starve, that some should
stay to work in the fields. Your father
was of the few who had escaped in our
village of Vieques.
"One morning a man appeared in the
village and Bald that Napoleon would
pass this way within a few hours. No
ono quite believed, yet there was ex
citement, and the people stood about
chattering, restless, when suddenly—
I car. see it as If it were yesterday—
a half dozen horsemen clattered from
the turn of the road up there and gal
1 loped down the street and beyond. The
■ crowd stared. Then every one talked
at once; there was a great confusion.
But at last a good old man, well known
to us all, raised Ills hand for silence,
i and as we listened he told us that prob
, ably it was not the great army which
would pass through Vieques, but only
Napoleon and his staff. We were not
on the road which led to Germany, and
i the great army was hurrying there.
It was probable that the emperor
' turned from his road to take the lists
■ of men and of resources in the vil
lage."
There was a stir against the grand
mother's arm. “Comment?” she asked.
"Please, grand-mere, don’t tell what
the old man said," Francois spoke. "It
is so long before you come to Napo
leon.” The child’s manner was im
petuous, but very winning. The old
woman felt the charm of it.
“You are always eager, Frnnoois,”
[ she said. “Very well, then. Two young
mon worn nlnrofl rinwn ro:iil tn
warn us, so that the men of the place
might hide on the mountain to escape
, being taken for soldiers. All that day
nothing happened, hut the next morn
* lng toward half past 10, as I prepared
the dinner, there was a sudden noise In
■ the streot, and your father came in.
*‘ ‘My mother,' ho said, ‘Napoleon
comes.'
"Outside I heard the neighbors call
ing the same two words—'Napoleon
comes’—one called It to another. If the
trumpet of the angel had sounded the
end of the world, they could not have
had more fear. Then, your father kissed
me. and kneeled and held you, Fran
cois, and Tomas, In his arms, and I
saw tears, but he was brave—-but yes.
'Courage, little mother,' ho said, for
mo and for the babies. Courage.'
“And at that your father, who was
my lltle lad once, you know, my dears,
had gone, and I stood with an ache
where my heart should have been, and
for a moment 1 was stupid and could
not think. Francois held to my apron,
and I lifted Tomas. 'What are you
crying about, naughty grand-mere?'
asked Tomas. So I dried the tears and
Francois began to say that he was
sleepy. I undressed him and the baby
and put them to bed for their nap In
the littlo chamber, which opens Into the
great one. and as 1 loft them asleep and
came again Into the large room there,
with Its groat oak table, I stood a mo
ment and thought of your dear father
1
flying through the woods, and of how
I was left to take care of his home and
his children. And the thought of a duty
to be done brought calmness.
"As I stood so. like a blow there was
a rush of galloping horses In a a show
er of noise down the street, and my
heart stopped, for the horses drew up
at this house. So that 1 was still In
the middle of the floor when the door
opened—"
Francois’ hand was laid against her
cheek. "The door Into the great entry
—that door there?" he demanded In a
whisper.
“But yes, mon p’tlt—that door.”
Four pairs of round eyes followed
Francois' gaze that turned to the panels
of heavy oak.
"It opened, that door there, and
against the light I saw men crowding In
the entry. They wore uniforms of bright
colors, and swords hung at their sides,
and on their heads were hats with
trimming eof gold. Then I saw—Na
poleon. I knew him at once, though I
had never seen his face, though his
figure was perhaps the smallest. I
stood quietly, remembering only that
I must guard my son’s children, and
ho spoke. With a step toward me he
spoke In a kind voice, half smiling.
“ ‘Madame,’ he said, ‘will you let us
use this room and this table for an
hour? You shall not be disturbed In
your work.’ ’’
The grandmother stopped and lifted
her hand, and her head was up as If
listening. “Tiens! I hear his voice
now!" she whispered, and the children
Started, as If expecting to catch a note
of the tones that hand sounded there—
the tones that had carried across the
w orld. The story went on.
”1 made my courtesy to these great
gentlemen as I had been taught, and
I found myself saying quite easily to
his majesty the emperar, as easily as If
I talked to Monsieur le Cure, to whom
I was accustomed, that he was wel
come; that I would serve him gladly
If he wished to command me. And
then I left them. There was that about
the great emperor which made one hap
py to be of use to him. I did not un
derstand it, but I felt It, as I had heard
the men talk about It who had seen
him. My son was flying from him, he
was draining the land of our men, of
K. HiIV* ‘luyf/iiicok), aiiu J Cl
here I was, willing and glad to do the
least or the greatest thing for him. He
was more than a man, Napoleon. As
I left the room, at the door I saw a
big soldier with an enormous fur shako
on his head and a saber In his hand,
who mounted guard, and there were at
each door and each window soldiers on
guard—think of that, my children—our
peaceful house surrounded with grand
soldiers. I could not help being a lit
tle proud as I saw It And before the
entry here a crowd of huge horses
stamped and snorted, so full of spirit
that the grooms could scarcely hold
them. I went quietly into the kitchen
and began, as in the ordinary way, to
get dinner, but I was so dazed with
what was happening that I was not
entirely capable. I could not seem to
make the soup as usual. When, sud
denly. I heard a child cry, and with
no thought then but of my babies, I
flew to the door of the great room and
stood looking, for I could not pass the
sentinel.
“Among the officers In their uniforms
there lay on the floor little Francois
In his night dress, and all the officers
looked at him and laughed—a great
shout of laughing which drowned the
sound of my coming. I knew later what
had happened, for the mayor of the
village was there with his lists and he
told me. The child, sleeping In the
farther room, had waked at the voices
and had climbed down from his crib
and toddled out to see. The glitter of
the uniforms must have pleased him,
and as they all bent over the papers
on the table he had pulled at the sword
of one whom I afterward knew to be
the great Marshal Ney. He wore a
dark, coat, all heavy with gold lace, my
children, and white pantaloons and
high shining black boots, and across
his breast a scarlet ribbon. He sat
next the emperor. The marshal, turn
ing sharply at the tug, knocked the
little cne over. It was then Francois
cried out. and I ran to him. But when
I reached the door a young general,
whose name I never knew, had set the
child on his feet, and the others, some
standing about him, some sitting In
their chairs, which they pushed back
to see better, some leaning across the
table, all stared at him. Without doubt
It was a sight which they had not seen
lately, a baby In Its night dress, and
without doubt It semed homelike to
some. However that may be, they were
laughing like schoolboys, and It was
Napoleon himself who spoko as I peered
under the sentinel's arm. He shook his
finger at his officer.
“ 'Marshal, marshal,’ he cried, ‘are
you not too quick to overthrow so
young a soldier, so full of love for
arms?*
"And he put out his hand and pinched
the littlo one’s ear, which I have heard
was a sign of good humor from the
emperor. The marshal laughed also,
and the young general who had set the
child on his feet, spoke quickly.
" 'Tour majesty,’ he said, and he pat
ted the little head as he said it, 'Mon
sieur le Marechal owes a reparation to
this soldier of the empire. Will not
your majesty order him to draw the
sword which is contested between them
and confer knighthood with It? It Is
an ancient custom, the accolade, and
nv/uiv* dciio uiiifiHU H uciween uiese
gentlemen very pleasantly.’
“And the officers laughed again noi
sily as the general spoke of the great
marshal and the little white-gowned
, baby as 'these gentlemen.’ But Na
1 poleon drew his eyebrows together—
yet he smiled.
" ‘Not tlie marshal.' he said. *but I
will do it. As you say, general, the
accolade is an old right of kings, un
used for centuries, but none the less a
1 right—held in abeyance. I am the mon
arch of France’—and his voice was like
the flash of a blade—‘I am the mon
arch of France,’ lie said, 'and I may
give nobility where 1 choose. For his
courage 1 shall knight this young
Frenchman; who knows but his life
may some time mean much to me or
my hpuse? There are queer twists in
the rope of history—a throne might de
pend on this lad’s spirit as well as on
another’s.’ The emperor seemed to joke,
for he laughed a little, yet there was a
sound in his voice as if some part was
serious. He turned sharply to the may
or. ‘What is the child's name?’
“The mayor was our friend and knew
the babies. 'Francois Beaupre, sire,* he
answered tremblingly.
"The emperor gave a short nod to the
general, who stlli kept his hand on the
dark little head. 'Make 1 im kneel.’ he
Isaid. 'Marshal, your swerd.'
“The blade clattered oul of the sheath
in front of the baby’s eyes, and he
blinked as he looked up, but did not
draw away an inch, and as the young
general pressed him to his fat knees
he put his hands together and shut his
eyes, for he thought he was to pray to
the good God. So the child knelt before
the emperor, thinking of his prayers.
It was still for a moment, and all the
officers stood silent, and then the em
peror took the marshal’s sword and
struck the baby’s shoulder a light blow
with the flat of it.
“ Rise Chevalier Francois Beaupre,’
he said clearly, and in the pause he ad
ded, with a look in his eyes as if one
gazed fortvard: ’Some day, perhaps, a
marshal of France under another Bona
parte.’ ’’
The grandmother’s voice stopped and
the garden and the entry that had been
full of the Jingle of harness and the
clatter of steel, the stir and color of
soldiery, was suddenly hushed and
empty. The ghosts of the great which
had risen at the simple magic of her
memory dissolved into mists of past
J’®ars- But the glory and the awe of
the name of tile emperor hung about
them. The children huddled, their eyes
devouring her, their faces close, listen
Ih^ yeb A little girl’s voice spoke.
And grand-mere, it was—”
"It was Francois,” she said, and laid
her hand on his shoulder. “The sword
of the _ emperor touched him here—I
?a^y *V ^lle child’s frame quivered as
if he felt again that blow of the acco
lade.
Then Tomas, alw'ays unimpressed,
began to sing Jeeringly:
"Francois Beaupre,
Nous devous l’admirer—
Notre grand chevalier,
Francois Beaupre—”
And the spell was broken. The chil
dren scattered, shouting, out into the
sunshine of the garden. But Francois
stood at his grandmother’s side, not
hearing or seeing them; staring at the
heavy panels of the oak door as if he
beheld the figures of Napoleon and his
generals pass that way again, and in
his child eyes smoldered the inner light
of a seer of visions.
CHAPTER It
THE STRANGER.
At the end of the long street of Vie
ques, next the church, stood the house
of Francois Beaupre, the father of little
Francois and Tomas and the rest. The
villagers called him “Le Francois” and
his wife “La Claire"; this showed them
of a certain importance, for one spoke
as if there were no other®. The house
was the largest in the village, and its
great earth-floored entry, leading at
the right into the living rooms, at the
left Into the stable, was 20 feet square.
There, on sunshiny spring days, the
grandmother would sit on the long
bench against the wall, always with
her knitting, always with the children
about her. and the cows would file past
and into the wide doorway at the left,
switching their tails, with mild big
eyes gazing gently at the group. In
front was the flower garden, and little
Lucie’s head was not so tall as the
patch of red peonies whose great blos
soms the breeze tossed in one corner
of it.
in the village, yet this was not the
pride of "La Claire,” the wife of “Le
Franrois.” She had two vanities, the
neighbors said: her tiny feet and her
garden, but not this garden of flowers.
Outside of the village, half a mile
away, on the road to' the old chateau,
were the fields where, laid out in trim
rows, flourished all the vegetables of all
the villagers. The little houses sat in
the long street, the e|j voie Romaine,
the Roman road built before the Chris
tian era and still kept up. The houses
were set too closely to allow space for
the great beds of cabbages, beans, peas,
turnips, parsley, endiv^ chicory, car
rots. So the cottages nestled elbow to
elbowr in the street, and the gardens
in the fields outside—one might see
them by looking—stretched even long
fingers through the valley almost to
the slope that led to the ruined castle.
Francois, the lad, liked to be sent
\here with his mother’s big basket to
bring back vegetables fur the family
meal. It was quiet in toe long sun
shiny rows of growing things, and the
earthy smell was pleasant, and a boy
who had much to think about could
think well ns he broke off stems of
chard or dug into the olean damp
brown earth for lettuce—l'la salade."
Moreover, he would ask sometimes:
“Must I hurry today, mother? Might
I go on to the chateau for a little
while?”
And often La Claire woutd smile at
the boy and answer: “But yes, my
Francois, you may go; tlure is no
hurry.”
And then came hours to be remem
bered. Francois remembeied them
many years after. He would set the
basket carefully in a safe sppt at the
very end of the row of whRe grown
lettuce heads, and then ho would cross
the field, brushing through thi millions
of scarlet popples, higher than the
blades of wheat, and climb up the steep
hillside and scramble over tlu* fence,
and be in the old castle. It was a good
road, because the people of Vieques
used it often for going to ar«j from
the pastures at the foot of the moun
tain, with the cows. At the end was a
gate which closed the way to wagons or
cattle; however, a person on foot
might open it and go beyond, ’inside
were the ruins.
(Continued next week.)
Twenty Alfalfa Pointers.
By Man!*'' Ohamplin, Assistant Agnjio
misi nth Dakota State College.
1. Altai... ced is very reasonable tots
spring, therefore now is a good time to
try It.
2. Start with a few acres, so as to leapn
to grow alfalfa by growing it.
3. Don’t try to grow alfalfa on sour gr
undralned soils.
4. If you suspect your soil to be souy,
send a sample to the agronomy depart
meni ana mane inquw-y as lu wueuiei w
not it is sour.
6. Don’t try to grow alfalfa on poorly
prepared land.
6. Corn ground, potato ground or sum
mer fellow is bes*. for alfalfa.
7. Stored moisture Is necessary for best
result a That is one rea&on for preferring
corn or potato ground or follow.
8. Weeds are a serious hindrance to al
falfa. That is another reason why clean
cultivated land Is best.
9. Alfalfa needs a wel) firmed seed bed
with a light mulch on top. Therefore a
third reason for clean cultivated land.
10. In western South Dakota, use three
l^ecks of early oats or barley with 10
pounds of alfalfa seed per acre.
11. In the central part of the state on
the upland prairies, it Is a good plan to
drill it in rows about three feet apart
so as to cultivate. Uge oats or flax as
a nurse crop when sowing In rows in order
to be able to see the rows quickly.
12. If the season Is dry, clip the nurse
crop as soon as It heads out. Use It for
hay or let it lie on the ground for a
mulch.
13. If you prefer to seed without a
nurse crop, mix about six pounds of corq
meal with 10 pounds of alfalfa seed and
sow with a grain drill.
14. Den t sow too deep. On© and ore
half Inches Is deep enough.
15. Clip the weeds frequently.
16. Sow good seed, preferably South
Dakota grown.
17. Harrow 1-year-old fields In the
spring with a spike-tooth harrow.
18. Don’t use a disc on alfalfa fields
19. Don’t cut the alfalfa later than the
1st of September. Give it a chance to
make a growth for winter protection.
Write to the agronomy department
at Brookings for circular. "Alfalfa Infor
mation for Beginners," bulletin 133 on al
falfa tests, and if in doubt about your
seed, send in a sample to be tested.
u
WESTERN CANADA'S
PROSPECTS FOR 1914
Excellent Spring for Work and
Wheat Seeding About
Finished.
The writer has just returned from
an extensive trip through the Prov
inces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan and
Alberta, in Western Canada. The crop
conditions are the very best, and no
one locality seems to have an advan
tage over another in tills respect. The
uniformity in growth is remarkable,
and in all parts of the three provinces
spring wheat at the time of writing,
May 10th, is well above the ground,
from two to three inches. Consider
able fall plowing was done last year,
and this, with the summer fallow, is
already seeded, so that practically
wheat seeding is over by this date.
Everywhere the farmers are busy and
the whole country presents one great
scene of activity—three-horse, four
horse and five-horse teams are busy
preparing land for barley, oats and
flax. On some of the larger farms
batteries of steam and gasoline out
fits are at work, but in ^great many
districts where these have been open
ated in the past they are being dis
placed by horses, owing no doubt par
tially to the difficulty of securing ex
perienced men to operate them. Any
way, there is being put into agricul
ture In Western Canada, greater ef
fort with more promise than for some
years past. The soil is in the best
possible condition; moisture has been
sufficient, there have been no winds
to dry out the soil, and if the farmers
have had to lay up for a day or so
now and again, it was merely that the
ground might have the advantage oi
the rain and an occasional snow,
which promise so much for the grow
ing crop. With some warm weather
the grain will come along in a man
ner that will equal the best years
Western Canada has ever had.
It must not be thought from this
that the farmers are full bent on se
curing a grain crop alone. In nearly
every district there is more and more
the indication and Inclination to go
into mixed farming. Herds of cattle
now dot the plains that up to the
present had been fully given up to
grain growing, hogs and sheep are in
evidence. New buildings are to be
seen on a great many places, these
being pig houses and cow stables, al
though protection of cattle is not regu
larly required, excepting for calves
and such cows as it may be necessary
to house from time to time.
The growing of alfalfa and other
fodder grasses is an industry that is
being rapidly developed.
During this spring a eplendid class
Df new settlers have gone in, many of
them from the eastern states. These
have seen what success the western
and central states man has achieved
In Western Canada, and are now go
ing in in hundreds. The movement
from Montana, Oregon and Washing
ton to Canada continues without any
abatement as to numbers and value of
effects, while the central and eastern
states are still sending an excellent
class of farmers with means sufficient
to begin farming on a scale that will
pay from the start.
Those who contemplate visiting the
Panama Exposition next year will find
that o^e of the most interesting trips
they can make will be via the Cana
dian West. There will be three lines
of railway they can use—the Canadian
Pacific, Canadian Northern and Grand
Trunk Pacific, all of which will have
through to coast lines completed. Thus
will be given a view of prairie, wood
land and mountain scenery unexcelled
in America.—Advertisement.
Line of Duty.
Uncle Luke had been over into Cal
houn county to see the son of his old
master, now grown to ripe age and
judicial office.
"Luke, how does Mr. John look?”
asked the old gentleman. "He’s get
ting stout, eh?”
Yas, suh,” agreed Luke. “Ah will
say dat w’en Ah saw Mas’r John ev’y
butto-n on his wais'coat was doin’ its
best duty, sah.”
Constipation causes many serious dis
eases. It is thoroughly cured by Doctor
Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets. One a laxative,
three for cathartic. Adv.
Curtain Lecture.
Miss Polly—When I was in the city
I attended a vaudeville show, and It
was just grand.
Villager—What were the names ol
the pieces?
Miss Polly—I don’t remember all,
but the curtain said the first piece was
' Asbestos.”—Buffalo Express.
Anybody can dye successfully with
Putnam Fadeless Dyes. Adv.
Easy Payments.
"Please, sir,” said the maid to the
head of the house, “there’s a gentle
man here to see you on business.”
"Tell him to take a chair.”
"Oh, he's already taken them all,
and now he's after the table. He's
from the installment house.”—New
York Herald.
Alfalfa Rpod 15.60. Farms for sale on crop pay
ments. J. Mulhall, Soo City, la.—Adr.
Tima Serving.
“What are you making such a fuss
about? I thought being executor of an
estate was a soft thing.”
“Perhaps it Is sometimes. But I
have to wind up the affairs of a clock*
maker.”—Judge.
A taste of extreme Joy Is all right,
but as a regular diet It loses Its flavwj