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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (March 18, 1915)
WHAT $10 DID FOR THIS WOMAN The Price She Paid for Lydia E. Pinkham’s V egetable Com pound Which Brought Cood Health. Danville, Va.-“ I have only spent ten dollars on your medicine and I feel so much better than I did when the doctor was treating me. I don’t suffer any bearing down pains at all now and I sleep well. I cannot say enough for Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta ble Compound and Liver Pills as they have done so much for me. I am enjoy ing good health now and owe it all to your remedies. I take pleasure in tell ing my friends and neighbors about them.”—Mrs. Mattie Haley, 601 Col quhone Street, Danville, Va. No woman suffering from any form of female troubles should lose hope un til she lias given Lydia E. Pinkham’a Vegetable Compound a fair trial. This famous remedy, the medicinal ingredients of which are derived from native roots and herbs, has for forty years proved to he a most valua ble tonic and invigorator of the fe male organism. Women everywhere bear willing testimony to the wonderful virtue of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta ble Compound. If you have the slightest doubt that Lydia E.Pinkhain’s Vegeta ble Compound will help you, write to Lydia E.Pinkham MediclneCo. (con f 1 dential) Lynn, Mass., f or ad vice. Your letter will be opened, read and answered by a woman and held In strict confidence. Liked the Church, But— Sweet Girl—Do you enjoy taking me to church? Lover—Not so much as riding with you In a street car. "Goodness! Why?" “The sexton never yells, ‘Sit closer, please.’ ” New York Weekly. OVERWORK and KIDNEY TROUBLE Mr. James McDaniel, Oakley, Ky„ writes: "I overworked and strained myself, which brought on Kidney and Bladder Disease. My symptoms were Backache and burning In the stem of the Blad der, which was sore and had a constant hurling all the time— broken sleep, tired feel ing, nervousness, puff ed and swollen eyes, shortnessof breath and J. McDaniel. Rheumatic pains. I suf fered ten months. I was treated by a physician, but found no relief until I started to use Dodd’s Kidney Pills, I now feel that I am permanently cured by the use of Dodd’s Kidney Pills.” Dodd’s Kidney Pills, GOc. per box at your dealer or Dodd’s Medicine Co.,) Buffalo, N. Y. Write for Household Hints, also music of National Anthem (English and German words) and re cipes for dainty dishes. All 3 sen free.—Adv. The Explanation. Tomdix—So Weeks is married, eh? He is so timid that I wonder he ever mustered up sufllcient courage to pro pose. Hojax—Oh, he didn't have to A young widow married him. ...— 1 .i Sprains,Bruises Stiff Muscles 1 Sloan’s Liniment will save ! j! hours of Buffering. For bruise > ; or sprain it gives instant relief. § !’ It arrest s inflammat ion and thus i prevents more serious troubles developing. No need to rub it * in—it nets at once, instantly J relieving the pain, however severe it may bo. Here’s Proof | i Charles Johnson, 1\ Q. Box 106, Law ton s Station, .V. V rentes: ‘‘1 sprained my ankle and dislocated my left hip by falling out of a third story window six months ago. i went on crutches for four months, then I started to use some of your Liniment, according to your direc tions. and I must say that it is Imlpiug me wonderfully. I threw my crutches away. Ouly used two bottles of your Liniment and now I am walking unite well with one cane. I never will be with out oloan’e Liniment." t AU Dealer.. 25c. Send four cents in stamps for a TRIAL BOTTLE ; Dr. Earl S. Sloan, Inc. Dept. B. Philadelphia, Pa. SLOANS LINIMENT ; SEVEN-TON R E IS WELL! WED ‘ Giant Dinosaur’s Skeleton Re cently Unearthed Thought to Be 7,000,000 Years Old. Between 7,000,000 and 10.000,000 years ago, In what Is known as the Jurassic age, there lived a group of giant rep tiles called Dinosaurs, one family of which, the Stegosauridae. or plated liz ards, is perhaps the most fantastic and curious in all natural history. Tho most perfect and complete fossilized skeleton of tho genus Stegosaurus, a smaller branch of tills remarkable family group, is on exhibition in the new building of the United States Na tional museum, at Washington, just os it was found and dug out of tho sand stone rock. Near at hand is a natural size and very life-like restoration In papier-mache, so weird and monstrous In appearance as to give one the hor rors. Back In the very early days of the word this armor-plated lizard-llke monster dwelt In th.e western part of the United States In what Is now the eastern slope of the Rocky mountains, although at that time the mountains did not exist. He roamed about In the marsh and swamp lands of that region, feeding on th.e tropical grasses and plants, the fossil remains of which are found burled with his skeleton. The specimen mentioned above comes from Quarry No. 1, In Fremont county, near Canyon City, Colo., where It was found by M. P. Felch In 1SS6. Brief articles concerning It were written from time to time, but It was not assembled and mounted until two years ago, and never completely described until recently. With the exception of the removal of some of the sandstone which surrounds this valuable specimen. It has been left In the position in which it was discov ered so that the relation of the various bones and skin armor may be seen and studied by scientists. In order that the lower side of the skeleton and the back plates may be seen, two mirrors have been placed beneath it In such a man ner as to reflect the exact structure and location of the various bones. Tho undisturbed position of the bones, and the surrounding sandstone indicates that this monster died In the WAter, or on the bank of a stream, and from some natural cause. It Is possible that the carcass floated down the stream as th.e arrangement of tho dif ferent bones and spine plates indicates a gradual washing and tipping over, rather than the crushing motion of a heavy force. The skeleton is quite complete and lies partly on its side and back, with nearly all the hones in their relative positions, rendering it of in finite value to scientists for study and as a reference type. In life this peculiar reptile of such gigantic proportions must have pre sented a forbidding appearance; it measures about 19 feet In length, was evidently over 11 feet in height at the hips, and was covered with a very tough and horny scale-Uke skin, stud ded here and there with bony buttons or knobs of armor. Along its back were arranged great sharp edged plates set alternately and projecting upward like the teeth of a huge saw. This odd armor plate extended from the small wedge-shaped reptilian head all the way back, and well down the tapering lizard-like tall, which was tipped with four long, sharp spines. Its legs were not unlike those of a lizard or other reptile, except that the fore legs were rather short and much Weaker than the hind ones, an Indica tion that the great animal could sit up like a kangaroo, and perhaps descended from a bipedal ancestor. From a study of Its teeth It has been determined that this prehistoric beast was a plant eater, ns Is suggested by its habitat. Further Investigation of its head, which is so small as to be quite out of pro portion to Its massive body, reveals the fact that It had scarcely any brain. Although tho body of the stegosaurus is supposed to have weighed more than that of an elephnnt, tho brain of the latter Is 50 times as heavy, which fact offers an excuse for tho Immense amount of defensive armor with whtel) It was equipped, making it practical ly Impregnable as far as Its enemies were concerned, provided it had any. Its bones alone weigh nearly a ton, and it has been estimated that In life tha stegosaur weighed between seven and 10 tons. A very complete scientific treatise oq this interesting group of extinct giant reptiles by Mr. Charles W. Gilmore, as sistant curator of fossil reptiles, has just been published by the United States national museum In the form of a bulletin, the edition of which has been distributed to libraries and tc Bcientlllc and educational institutions i-- ■ Autos For the Masses, From the Indianapolis News. One of the constant and rapid develop mcnts of Industry In this country Is th« automobile, and the remarkable phase of It Is Its rapidly widening use among peo ple of moderate means. New York, with Its great population, Is the home of men of creat wealth. The last records show 16S.069 autos lu use there. Kansas has no city noted ns the homo of groat wealth. It Is a commonwealth of farms. It has about 1,750,000 population and 60.107 licensed motor cars. Tills Is 60 per cent greater. In proportion to population, than New York. Massachusetts Is a state of great wealth and a largo leisure class. Its pop ulation In 1910 was 3,366,416. It has 77,MG motor cars. Iowa, with a tremendous territory, bad In 1910 a population of 2,224, 000. These people had then 106,250 licensed automobiles, proportionately twice as many as Massachusetts, with Its great wealthy compact territory, lino roads and many cities. Ohio lias more by 40 per cent than Pennsylvania, and so the com parison goes throughout. Thus, It ts plain that the motor car ts increasing In uso among people of moderate means, espec ially In the farming districts. Tills means that the motor oar la no longer the "toy of wealth," tile plaything of the rich, the amusement of the well to do, the enjoyment of an Idle hour. It Is more and more taking the place of the horse and wagon and horse and buggy. It Is being nut to the service of the work a-day life. The people that have to work to live find that they must have an auto mobile for tlielr business uses. It Is a means of transportation for themselves and tue many small things they must have. Of course, this means that a great factor Is the low priced motor ear, for the wonderful Increase could not como un less there were n low price. First canto the Interurban road, dividing the work of the steam road. Now Is coming, every day. the automobile, dividing and supple menting the work of both roads. When we add to tilts the spread of the telephone we begin to got a brief glimpse of the ma terial progress of America. By rcrcevR] Gibbon In Collier's. A Protective Revival. From the Youngstown Telegram. Rankin—Beanbrou“ji bought a suit of armor at u sale of antiques. Phyle—I didn't know he was a col lector. "He isn't. He bought ilie thing for protection." "For protection?” "Exactly. A lot of amateurs play golf on a course he is obliged to pass on his way to work and he Is afraid of being' bit by the flying balls." leg—————1—i————>m*****««^***1 HU till nil |f MARY MIDTHORNE 1 BY GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON. Author of "Graustark,” “Truxton King," etc. Copyright. 1311. By Pod-], Mead & Co. J) INI llil 1221 \) CHAPTER I.—(Continued). Up to the time Eric, the boy. was 5, <nd his sister, the new Mary, 2, they Jved with their parents in a thriving 'leorgfa town, the home place of the fa ther and his father before him. Old Mr. IJiagden resented his daughter's marriage to the handsome, whilom Midthorne. The young man once hatl been a visitor in Corinth, coming from HaAard with college mates for the summer, and his carryings-on had suite thoroughly scandalised the staid, puritanical element in the town, al though affording great delight and en Eouragerrunt to the youth of the place, it is said that the spirit of emulation which thrived in Corinth long after he went his joyous way, following that first and only visit, was such that it flad been as vigorously directed in an other cuuse might have produced noth- j ng but saints among tho young men of Corinth. But it took a different di rection altogether. For a time it was feated that there would be no stopping the lads. They went a dreadful pace ind seemed proud of it. Old Mr. Blagden look hold up Horace In good time. He Eommanded him to have nothing in sommon with Phil Midthorne, pro claiming him to be an imp of perdition. 3'he young men had been friends. Horace made the fatal mistake of snub bing the Georgian on the street one day, whereupon Midthorne, after de manding an explanation and getting it, proceeded to thrash his future brother inlaw. It is needless to say that Horace despised him from that day forth. If Mary Blagden was not easily managed by her father, Midthorne found tho task by no means difficult. She was in love with him—as were all the girls in Corinth, for that matter—and his belaboring of Horace increased rather than chocked her interest. She never got on well with her brother. He bullied her after a oolite fashion, all his own, and, as alio couldn’t retaliate so politely, he had sill the better of her. Midthorne, to his pwn Intense amazement, fell desperately in love with the girl. But he had tj thrash Horqce, Just the same. You can well imagine his gratiiication when he found, almost at once, that he went up considerably in the girl's estimation af ter that disgraceful encounter. She experienced a malicious delight in standing up for him against Horace, not only in public, but in the bosom of her own family. She "ended up” by marrying the family bug-bear—for that is what Midthorne grew to be—and promptly abandoned Corinth forever. Horace never quite got it out of his head that she married Phil in order to annoy tho family. Be that as it may, they made a sorry failure of it, those Midthornes. Phil was not heavily endowed with this world's goods, nor was ho likely to acquire anything. He was a good fel low, a favorite, and it was his secret belief that the world owed a living to all good fellows. Together they lived rather a thrift less life in the Georgia town, neither of them caring much whence sustenance came, Just so long as it came. His people were poor. He had but little help from them. Mary’s were rich, but Bhe would not have accepted aid from them If she had been starving. Be it re corded, to Phil’s credit, he would no more have taken from them than she. She was the kind of woman who thrives on the attention of other men. There was a-plenty of them in their wide circle of friends who were -eady and willing to give it to her, for she was beautiful, she was gay, she was witty. It was not long before gossip attached itself to her. Soon after tho second child was born, Mary Midthorne began to chafe restlessly under tho re straint of a quiet home life in the southern town. Phil had grown tiresome, commonplace In the extreme. He was no longer the dashing beau of her ante-nuptial days. Instead, he was slowly drifting Into a disgusting state of complacency—and complacency was the one condition that Mary despised more than all others. He loved his home and his children; he was getting over his love for the world. They quarreled less than had been their wont. He was getting so that he would not even take the trouble to quarrel with her over the attention other men paid her—with her per mission. She went farther and farther In a spirit of defiance to him—and his complacency. She got over her love for him, but It was like gall and worm wood to feel that ho did not love her— at least. In the old, impassioned way. She was still young, still pretty, still worth while: she could feel. One day Phil found her lunching with a man he had particularly advised her to avoid, as there had already been talk about them. He upbraided her. In the presence of the man. That night she did not come home. He followed her to New Orleans, and from that city to Pass Christian. Out on the famous Shell road he came upon her and the man. He took her to the county seat with him, but he left the man lying by the roadside, a bullet through his heart. Tho unwritten law! He was discharged !>y a chivalrous Mississippi Jury, and Journeyed amiably back to ills home and his babies, but without the wife and mother. It was a part of his un written law that she should keep to the path she had chosen. Of course, In this grave emergency. Horace Blagden and his father might have been expected to come forward with a helping hand outstretched to the wayward outcast. But not they! They were of Corinth and they were great men and impeccable. They closed their hearts and their hands against her. She wore a scarlet letter. Mary was not of the kind that goes to tho gutter. The gutter Is not a com fortable abiding place, nor Is It one of luxury. She liked comfort and luxury. She went to Paris instead. Two years after the tragedy on the Shell road she came to a sudden and perhaps timely end through an attack of fever while acting in the capacity of govern ess in the home of a wealthy expatri ated New Torker, whose wife, for rea sons never made public. became estranged from him after Mary had been In the family a spare three months. A strange coincidence followed. Phil ip Mldthorne died of pneumonia in less than a month after his wife’s demise. Within a yeAr thereafter Horace Blagden, now the great man of Cor inth, since tile passing away of his fa ther, arose to tpe highest known point In Rlagden generosity. He Journeyed south with l\is ■Wife and laid claim to V e Mldthorne Infants, proffering a I me, and an education, and other ad vantages which their pate-.nal grand parents could ill afford to spurn. Tho children were allowed to rome north, to the grey house .on Hue hill, to the I chill winds of Cor^ntli, 'so unlike tho | soft, bulmv airs of birthplace, so \ f 2 I far r moved from the warm, lazy love I of those gentle Midthornes. From flower-covered, ruin-racked mansion tinder a blue sky, to bare, grim, solidly prosperous walls under a sky that was always white. Corinth paused aghast. Horace had done the one thing that no one believed him capable of doing. He had taken intu his own home, to his own prim New England hearth, the offspring of the despised Magdalen and her red handed husband. The children of an adulteress! The children of a murder er! Horace Blagden kept his own coun sel. lie offered no explanation, no ex cuse for his surprising act. He was le gally appointed guardian of the little ones; he set them down, with a grim ; sense of his own power, among the un blemished children of Corinth, and all Corinth was quiescent. No mother lift ed up her voice against the affront, no father protested. They accepted the little Midthornes, and were amazed in themselves. A word In explanation of Horace’s act It was discovered, on the reading of old Mr. Blagden’s will, that lie had not quite forgotten his lovely, though i erring daughter. There was a clause bequeathing $100,000 to each of her children, the money to go to them when they had attained the age of 21, the bequest, in the interim, to be under the control of a guardian appointed by the court. It was upon the discovery of this unexpected clause that Horace Blagden set about, with some haste, to have himself appointed guardian It also occurred to him that it would be the part of wisdom for him to at tend to the bringing up of hts wards, uhder his own eye and guidance. And so it was that the two little Mid thomes came to the grey house on the hill, where the hearts were cold and bitter, and wliere the ways were hard. When they came, blinking and wide eyed, they found their cousin, Chet wynd, there; He was four years older than Eric. Age was not his only asset In superiority, you may be sure. From the beginning, Chetwynd looked upon his unlucky cousins as interlopers, as dependents, far beneath him in every respect. It was necessary for him to pummel Eric roundly on the second llay after his arrival. Eric, small as he was, openly had resented the larger boy’s airs, being a manly little chap with fire In his blood. For this, he was kept locked in a dark closet for three hours. I mean Eric, of course. When Chetwynd told his mother that he had thrashed his cousin, that excellent dis ciplinarian promptly proceeded to pun ish Eric, so that it would not happen again. The lattle warm-hearted Midthornes made friends quickly among the chil dren In the set affected by tho Blag dens. They were not permitted to go outside this circle. After the first few weeks of uncertainty In their new sur roundings they rose to their own level of joyousness. Not even the overbear ing attitude of Chetwynd could chill this natural warmth of manner; nor the stern, lean face of their Uncle Hor ace; nor the amplified repugnance of their Aunt Rena. They were happy be cause they knew not how to be other wise. This was when they were 6 and 2. They had no Ideals. They had nothing black to remember, for they only knew that their father and mother had gone away for a long time. They knew noth ing of Cain and Magdalen. But they were to know before they were many years older. CHAPTER II. PART OF THE TRUTH COMES OUT Eric was 12 years old when his aunt, in a lit of annoyance, brought on by his throwing a stone at the fleeing tor mentor, Chetwynd, told him that his father was a murderer, and that he was likely to become one himself un less he mended his ways. It was the first he knew of that tragic episode in the life of his blithe father. The blow was so crushing that he was a long time in coming to the full realization of its force. He slunk off, dazed, bewildered, frightened. Chetwynd's taunting laugh pursued him as ho made his way blindly through the yard to the street below. That was but the beginning. They had held it back as long as it was in their natures to do so. The great won der lies in the fact that they refrained at all. Little Mary was not slow to observe the sudden change in her brother. A curious depression, an un accountable sullenness in his manner puzzled her. Young as she was, she know that there was something in his mind which he would not reveal to her. He was but 12. He possessed not the power of Initiative in so grave, so stupendous a problem as the one which confronted him. He could not bring himself to ask the terrible ques tions. There was no one to whom he could go. It came over him suddenly that he was deprived of all that was good and noble and decent in the world. In his small, groping mind, he wondered if all the children with whom he placed knew of the great secret, if all of them knew that his father had killed a man. With furitive eye and a new purpose, he watehed their faces for signs betraying the slightest sense of aversion toward him. He waited in a great, hungry suspense for his aunt to repeat her tirade. He waited for fresli taunts from Chetwynd—he even invited them, with a subtleness sur prising in one so young. But they were frightened, they were wary. Mrs. Blagden, In her haste, had spoken without consulting the master. Horace had told her often that when the proper time came, in his opinion, he would tell the children the story of their misguided parents. She realized that she had gone far beyond her rights in robbing him of the privilege. She was not sorry for Eric. The haunting, ever alert question in the boy's dark eyes made no impression on her. She had lived too long in the gray house on the hill for that. Be sides, he had thrown a stone at Chet wynd. And more than that, the boys wl>o came up to play always asked for Eric, not Chetwynd. Shq could not understand it in them. She secretly resented the preference Several days after her unfortunate slip, she went to her pastor for advice. She had not slept well. She was .afraid that Erie might go to his uncle for the truth. The Rev. Dr. Presbrey, of the First Congregational church, of Cor inth. was a good man, an immaculate Christian, a traveler who had not even glanced beyond the confines of the nar row path. He had lived in Corinth for 50 years, since the day of his birth, and once had done something notable in the genera! council at Boston, which, how ever, had not been of sufficient mo ment to abstract him from Corinth. He listened to Mrs. Blagden’s confes sion, then called in his wife for a three sided consultation in which the clerical pair agreed to everything advanced by their best-paying parishioner; and later on, proposed that she give him until the next Thursday evening to consider the case. After inviting the minister and his wife to dine with her on the coming Thursday, Mrs. Blagden felt somewhat easier in her mind. She felt, somehow, that God would step into the breach. To the best of her recollection He had never failed her—that is to say, He had not failed her since she came to Corinth. Sometimes she looked back upon her dancing days in New York, and wondered if they were real. They must have been, for she had succeeded in getting Horace’s consent to let Chetywnd attend dancing school. It was for the sole purpose, I believe, of making him graceful. The old seaman who kept the upper road gate to the grounds belonging to the home on the point was Eric's par ticular friend and crony. The ancient was rather chary about letting chil dren inside the grounds unless accom panied by parents or nurses. He had grown, however, to like the manly, straightforward little Mldthorne boy and his pretty, baby-faced sister. They were always welcome. Other children hooted at him when he refused them admission. Eric had said to him once, on being turned away; “I’m sorry, major. Perhaps if I come again some other day you'll let me in to watch the squirrels. Good day, sir.” There were three things in this very tactful speech that operated in Eric’s favor. First, the politeness of it: sec ond, the wist fulness of it; third, the grandeur of it. Jabez Carr had been a captain’s mate, it is true, but he had never been by way of acquiring such a magnificent title as “major.” It oc curred to him at once that the boy was not of Corinth. No Corinth lad would have called him a major. He remem bered that the southland is full of ma jors. It was not for a small boy to know that the sea does not produce majors. So Jabez said, relenting a bit: “You come from the south, don't you, sonny?" “Yes, sir," said Eric. ”1 was born In Georgia." “I thought so,” said Jabez. “I am Mr. Blagden’s nephew, and this is my sister, Mary.” Mary courtseyed' to the old sailorman. “1 love squirrels,” said she. "Come around tomorrow," said Ja bez genially. “Thank you, major,” cried Eric. “Thank you, major,” piped Mary. That was the beginning of a friend ship that grew to something akin to devotion. Jabez experienced a great deal of trouble at first in subduing a natural inclination to nautical exple tives, harmless before the mast, but very much out of place in the presence of a young person in pinafores. He was surprised to find how readily his verbs submitted to the new influences, al though he would have been surprised to have heard them described as verbs. The two children stole away fre quently after school hours, or during the protracted summer vacation, to pay sly visits to the delighted old mar iner. He repaid them out of the stores of an unbounded imagination. His tales of the sea; his hair-raising encounters with pirates, cannibals, sharks and "h’ants;” his countless wreckes and rescues; his wonderful experiences in snatching beauteous young ladies (all of whom were of the nobility), from infamous buc caneers; his life in the very island that Robinson Crusoe inhabited; his descents to the bottom of the sea In quest of Davy Jones; his—but why go on? Jabez possessed an imagination far superior to mine. In fact, he never knew until then just how magnificient it was, and ho was very greatly pleased with himself. He used to lie awake nights, “thinking up” lies for their delectation, and then he would have to remain unusually wide awake during the daytime to avoid contradictions. Eric had caught him up sharply in cue or two of his earlier lapses, and he experienced a sense of deep humiliation on finding himself so defective. His gravest slip was in regard to an almost simultaneous action under Lord Nelson at Trafalgar and Admiral Farragut at Mobile. He was at once forced into a deep wonder and an un easy respect for Eric's knowledge of history. Moreover, was one day con founded by the boy’s damning declar ation that he must be nearly two hun dred years old to have engaged in all of the transactions mentioned. It was lo old Jabez that Eric went after waiting in vain for a renewal of Mrs. Blagden’s attack on his father's honour. On the afternoon of the day that the minister and his wife were to dine with them, the boy decided to make specific inquiries of the old sea man. He went about it nervously, but de terminedly. “Uncle Jabe,” he began, after pro curing the old man’s pipe and tobacco from the shelf in the watch house, “did you know my mother?” (Continued next week.) War’s Zone of Death. Extracts From, a Letter of an Officer In the Staff of One of the Belgian Di visions in Flanders, in the Lon don Chronicle. Here we are once more in the firing line, occupying a stretch of the Yser. Our men are day and night in the trenches dug along the river embankment; opposite, some 60 or a 100 yards away, is the ene my. One peeps out and, so doing, exposes oneself more or less. Shots ring out, but the result is nothing to talk of. One day, for example, three men hors de combat. The other night the men pushed a raft into the Yser. Ritles and their machine guns came into action. It was much ado about nothing. There are houses on the other bank at the water's edge. We hear the bandits hammering and work ing away at all sorts of engines. . . . All the region parallel with the Yser over a width of three or four miles is really a zone of death. The houses are three parts in ruins. Nothing lives now in this region: no trees even, or rather only a few completely stripped of their branches: an immense plain gridltroned with ditches full of water; here and there the greenish yellow stains of the floods; some bodies of horses; enormous funnel shaped holes In the black soil; vestiges of human activity, such as trenches, shel ters, plank bridges, and everywhere— numerous empty meat tins. And overhead little cotton wool cloufLs from bursting shrapnel. You see no liv ing thing, and yet you feel that you are being watched. Three men standing to gether will draw the shrapnel fire, which is only too precise in the region where every yard has been marked out. And the miul! The mud! The mud’ Sticky and slippery. Yet everyone Is In high spirits and full of "go.” . . . At night the darkness becomes peopled with shadows. Cars arrive, their lamps extinguished, with provisions, ammuni tion, toots and materials. The relieving troops move forward In long, silent lines. Having slept all day, our splendid fellows get busy with their mole-like work and get back to thetr lodgings before the dawn begins to whiten the sky; just like so many owls! A Word For Blease. From the Nashville Southern Lumberman. Anyhow, the ambitlcn of Governor Blease to go out of office and leave the ! penitentiary empty is more commendable ; than some retiring officials’ efforts to ^ leave the treasury emyttv. ’"CASCARETS” ACT 1 LB; p IS No sick headache, biliousness, bad taste or constipation by morning. Get a 10-cent box. Are you keeping your bowels, liver and stomach dean, pure and fresb with Cascarets, or merely forcing a passageway every few days with Salts, Cathartic Pills, Castor Oil oi Purgative Waters? Stop having a bowel wash-day. Let Cascarets thoroughly cleanse and reg ulate the stomach, remove the sour and fermenting food and foul gases, take the excess bile from the liver and carry out of the system all the constipated waste matter and poisons in the bowels. A Cascaret to-night will make you feel great by morning. They work while you sleep—never gripe, sicken or cause any inconvenience, and cost only 10 cents a box from your store. Millions of men and women take a Cascaret now and then and never have Headache, Biliousness, Coated Tongue, Indigestion, Sour Stomach or Constipation. Adv. Terrifying Styles. “The Gorgons were mythological sisters, who had snakes for tresses in stead of hair.” 'Gee,” muttered the high school girl, “it must have been tough to* have to go out and gather a bunah of snakes whenever you needed a few extra puffs,”—Louisville CouriemJour nal. A POTATO KING “If I were a farmer boy, or a boy with out capital, and wanted an early compe tency, I’d start right out growing Pota toes,” said Henry Schroeder, the Potato king of the Red River Valley, whose story in the John A. Salzer Seed Co.’S Catalogue reads stranger than a romance. That advice of Mr. Schroeder’s, the self made Potato king, comes from a warm heart, a level head, a potato king! Price Schroeder’s Famous Ohio, bushel, $1.75; ten bushels, $15.00. Here’s another advice o£ the Red River Potato king. He says: “Plant a plenty when potatoes are plenty,” or cheap, like they were last Fall—That’s sound doctrine. Follow his advice this year and coming July and August and all Fall look out for 70c and 90c and $1.00 Potatoes! CORN. Who placed Wisconsin on the Corn map, way at the top? Sal zer’s crea tions in field Corns, Bar ley, O'a t s,k Speltz, and# Clovers. Po-ff tatoes helped .' do it. ; 'f .»,jj We make a*" great special-*"* ty of: seedi* corn, listing*^ over fort y^S among them the earliest,, heaviest: eared, biggest yielders known. For 10c In Postage Wo gladly mail our Catalog snd sample package of Teh Fa mous Farm Seeds, including Speltz, “The Cereal Wonder;’’ Rejuvenated White Bonanza Oats, “The Prize Winner;” Bil lion Dollar Grass; Teosinte, the Silo Filler, etc., etc. Or Send 12c And we will mail' you our big Catalog and six generous packages of Early Cabbage, Carrot, Cucumber, Lettuce, Radirh, Onion—furnishing lots and lots of juicy delicious Vegetables during the early Spring and Summer. Or send to John A. Saher Seed Co., Bore 706, La Crosse, Wis., twenty cents snd receive both, above collec tions and their big catalog. Keeping the Peace. “I presume that you and your "«ife have occasional differences of opin ion?” "Oh, yes, but—er—1 don't tell her." Important to mothers Examine carefully every bottle of CASTORLA, a safe and sure reiaedy for Infants aad children, and see that lit Bears the ** Signature of In Use For Over 30 Years. Children Cry for Fletcher’S Castoria Just Like Him. "My husband is just like out fur nacs,” sighed Mrs. Blinks. “Ah day ho smokes and at night he goes out.’* Attention, Mothers! Write Wm. Wrigley Jr. Co., 1304 Kesner Bldg.. Chicago, 111., for 28 page beautifully colored "Mother Qpose Jingle Book." Sent free to ail read ers of this paper.—Adv. Not Even Skin Deep. Hokus—Yes, she’s pretty; but sh« doesn’t wear well. PoVus—Rubs off, eh?—Judge.