Let nt tel) you of the wonderful econ
omy, timplicity end cffectiveneaa of
the Alibaatine way of interior decoration.
The Alabaatlne way qulred; no glue to be added
la tlmpk in the ex- r>° unneceaanry time,
treme—You buy the You can secure shades and
Alabaatlne In the colors •« '"***{•' with
. . __ai»i _ the Alabaatlne way by com
• nd Quantities you re bining tints to produce a
quire it Is mixed with new shade. You need not use
cola water in a pail accord- certain fixed color* unless
ingto the directions on the you want to; and you can
package. have an artistic color scheme
Tl. I. _ _ kaNI.. M.a*aa An »Aai. malla.AUrafHiiAaa.Ama
Three Hundred Million
Bushel Crop in 1915
Farmers pay for their land with one year's crop
■ad prosperity was never so great.
Regarding Western Canada as a grain
producer, a prominent business man
says: “Canada’s position today is
sounder than ever. There is more
p wheat, more oats, more grain for feed, 20% more cattle than
last year and more hogs. The war market in Europe needs
! | our surplus. As for the wheat crop, it is marvelous and a monument of strength
for businessconfidence to build upon, exceeding the most optimistic predictions.”
Wheat averaged in 1915 over 25 bushels per acre
Oats averaged In 1915 over 45 bushels per acre
Barley averaged In 1916 over 40 bushels per acre
| Prices are nigh, markets convenient, excellent land, low in price either im
proved or otherwise, ranging from $12 to $30 per acre. Free homestead
lands are plentiful and not far from railway lines and convenient to good
i schools ana churches. The climate is healthful.
There le no war fax an land, nor In (here any conscription. For complete infor
mation at to beat locations for settlement, reduced railroad rates and descriptive illustrated
pamphlet, address Superintendent Immigration, Ottawa, or
J. M. MacLACHLAN. Drawer 107, Watertown. S. D.i W. V. BENNETT, Room 4.
Bee Bldg., Omaha, Neb., and R. A. GARRETT. 31 I Jackson St.. St. Paul. Minn.
Canadian Government Agents
I Exceeded Inetructlone.
My little granddaughter was invited
to luncl) at a neighbor’s. She Is rath
er notidhal in her eating. On leaving
I said to her: “Now, if there is any
thing put on your plate that yon do
not like, don’t say anything. Just
eat a little of it if you can, but make
no remarks.”
On her return she said: "Grandma,
there was a dish that I don't like
(beans). 1 didn’t want the folks to
know that I didn’t like them, so I ate
two dishes.”—Exchange.
FRECKLES
Now la the Time to Get Rid of These
Ugly Spots.
There's no longer the slightest need of
reeling ashamed of your freckles, as the
prescription othine—double strength—Is
guaranteed to ren. j/e these homely spots,
Simply get an ounce of othine—double
strength—from your druggist, and apply a
little of It night and morning and you
should soon see that even the worst freckles
have begun to disappear, while the lighter
ones have vanished entirely. It is seldom
that mors than one ounce is needed to com
pletely clear the sltln and gain a beautiful
clear complexion. *<
Be sure to ask for the double strength
othine. as this is sold under guarantee of
money back If it fails to remove freckles.—
Adv.
True.
“It takes two to make a quarrel.**
“Yes, and very often it takes a jury
to settle it.”
Dr. Pierce** Pleasant Pellets are the
original little liver pill* put up 40 years
ago. They regulate liver and bowels.—Adv.
The United Ftat.es last year im
ported 27,562.361 pounds of black and
white pepper, valued at $2,852,665.
There is nothing insignificant.
Clean the Blood
Spring is the time of the year when
we should put our house in order.
We’re run down after a hard winter—
after grip, colds, catarrh. It’s timo
to take Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical
Discovery, purely vegetable and free
from alcohol or narcotics. It will
search out impure and poisonous mat
ter and drive it from the system. Buy
| “Discovery” now in tablets or liquid.
It will dissolve the poisonous accu
mulations and replace the bad blood
it drives out, with rich, pure blood full
of vital force.
It will clear the skin; eczema, pim
ples, rash, blotches will dry up and |
disappear; bolls, carbuncles and other
evidences of tainted blood will pass
•way, never to appear again.
i;V
Wise Youngster,
Letitia and her six-year-old brother
were ready to eat some lunch which
lad been placed on the table. Letl
:ia said, “Who will aBk the blessing?”
Loy looked at her seriously and
hen said his little prayer, “Now 1 lay
no down to sleep, I pray thee, Lord,
ny soul to keep," etc.
After he had finished Letitia said
:o him, “You are not going to bed.
ire you?”
"No,” said Loy, “but it is better
:han saying nothing.”
For a really fine coffee at a mod
erate price, drink Denison's Seminole
Brand, 35c the lb., in sealed cans.
Only one merchant In each town
sells Seminole. If your grocer isn’t
the one, write the Denison CofTee Co.,
Chicago, for a souvenir and the name
of your Seminole dealer.
Buy the 3 lb. Canister Can for 31.00,
—Adv.
Seasonable.
Knicker—What Is a pessimist?
Bocker—A man who believes the
snow always drifts on his side of the
street.
Throw Off Colds and Prevent Grip.
When ron feel n cold coming on. take UAXA
TIV W b.HOMO QUININU. It removes cause of
Colds and Orly. Only One " 13KOMO QUININU.”
U. W. OHOY K’s signature on box. Hoc.
Some people think that discussing a
thing is about the same as doing it.
Gold handled by a dentist is always
at a premium.
Nailing a lie won't always keep if
down.
A NEW DISCOVERY
“Anuric” is a recent discovery of
Doctor Pierce, who is head or the In
valids’ Hotel, Buffalo, N. Y. Experi
ments at Dr. Pierce's Hospital for sev
eral years proved that “Anuric” is a
wonderful eliminator of uric acid. For
those easily recognized symptoms of
inflammation—as backache, yoaiding
urine and frequent urination, «s well
as sediment in the urine, or if uric
acid in the blood has caused rheuma
tism, it is simply wonderful how surely
“Anuric” acts; and in gravel and gout,
invariably the pains and stihness rap
idly disappear.
Go to your nearest drug store and
simply ask for a 50-cent package of
“Anuric,” or send Dr. Pierce 10c 'or
trial pkg.
j TRANSFIGURATION. j
By Emil Locha. j
The story which follows deserves
a high place in the literature of
the war. It is a piece of tioetic
symbolism, semldramatic In form.
The dramatic representation of a
dream Is a popular literary device
in Germany, and the inspiration for
"T.;nsfiguration” Is undoubtedly to
bo found In Gerard Hauptmann's
"lY.v.mole's Himmelfahrt" and slm
'h., ventures of that order. Emil
Locha Is tho author.
A snow-covered woodland. In It
itands a little chapel, open in front;
In tho half-darkened background a
statue of the Madonna with the Child;
to her right and left two saints, a man
and a woman, all carved very simply
out of wood. Their garments are a
compromise between ordinary style and
biblical tradition. A lamp hangs from
the celling. At the entrance to the
chapel stand two bushes of wild roses,
whose stems shine red. It is snowing.
Late afternoon.
A wounded soldier is led along by a
comrade. lie has not strength enough
to drag himself farther.
Tho Soldier—Shall we be home soon.
Brother?
The Comrade—Here is a dry place.
Come, 1 will take you in. You can lie
down a little while. I will get help and
bring a litter. Then we will carry you
to the relief station.
The Soldier—Yes, I will He down.
The Comrade—See there! A com
fortable bench! (He places his knap
sack on the bench as a pillow, spreads
out his blanket, helps the wounded man
to lie down and covers him with his
coat.)
The Soldier—Is there anything to
drink?
The Comrade—Still tea enough in
the canteen. (He gives him a drink.)
The Soldier—Thank you. Brother
Will you stay with me?
The Comrade—I am going to the re
lief station. I cannot carry you by
myself. And there—don't you see?—I
leave my canteen near your hand.
There is more tea in it. And here are
bacon and bread if you want to eat.
The Soldier—You will not leave me
alone?
The Comrade—In half an hour I
shall be back. Have you any pain?
Tho Soldier—Not very much.
The Comrade—Now, keep as quiet as
you can. (lie gives him his hand; the
soldier clings to it.)
The Soldier—I don’t like to be left
alone. It is dark and cold. And it will
soon be night.
The Comrade—But, see here, Toni,
Isn’t It better for me to bring some
body, so that you can be properly ban
daged? We will have covering for you,
and you will soop be In a soft, warm
bed.
The Soldier (still holding the other's
hand)—Brother, feel In my pocket.
The Comrade—In this one?
The Soldier—No; on the other side.
The Comrade—Here?
The Soldier—Yes. Is my notebook
there? Or have I lost it?
Beautiful, Soft Hair.
The Comrade—No, It is there.
The Soldier—Open it, please. Do
you see the hair i.iEide It? in a little
piece of silk?
The Comrade—Yes. here.
The Soldier—Put it in my hand. Do
you notice how sweet it smells? It is
my child's.
The Comrade—Beautiful, soft hair.
The Soldier—Isn’t it? It must he a
beautiful child. But l have never seen
It.
The Comrade—When waft it born?
The Soldier—Let me think. It is !!
months and 3 weeks old. I had already
left home.
The Comrade—A hoy or a girl?
The Soldier—A boy. His name is
Gottlieb.
The Comrade—You will soon see him.
Perhaps you will be home within a
few days.
The Soldier—But if I have to die?
The Comrade—Don’t talk about such
a tiling! You will get into a bed and
In two weeks you will be well again.
It Is nothing dangerous.
The Soldier—In two weeks, do you
think? But if 1 get better so soon they
may not send me home.
The Comrade—Certainly you will get
home. Every wounded man has leuve.
Well, I’ll go now. Shall I not?
The Soldier—Thank you. Brother,
(lie lets go the comrade’s hand.)
The Comrade—I'll be back soon. (He
starts.)
The Soldier—Brother!
The Comrade (turning back)—What
a, in
The Soldier—Must I stay here—all
alone?
The Comrade—I'll come right back.
Are you cold?
The Soldier—A little.
The Comrade—Wait! I'll wrap you
up in two coats—yours and mine. Now
you will get warm again. And I'll
bring you either wine or coffee.
The Soldier—Thank you, Brother!
But you'll be cold!
The Comrade—I’ll run fast. That
makes one warm. And at the relief
station they will give me something to
put on. So! Here is the tea—and,
the bacon.
The Soldier—I thank you. Come back
soon, won’t you!
The Comrnde—Certainly. God be
with you! (He goes.)
The Soldier (calling)—Brother!
(The comrade returns.)
The Soldier—Don’t be angry!
The Comrade—Why, certainly not.
The Soldier—Tell me—you know my
wife?
The Comrade—Yes.
The Soldier—Doesn’t she look like
the one up there holding the child?
tpointing to the madonna).
The Comrade—Very much. Do you
want anything else? (The soldier
shakes his head.)
The Comrade—Then I’ll go. brother,
tile disappears in the wood.)
The Soldier—Good luck to you!
The soldier is lost in contemplation
of the statue and makes no motion. It
gets dark. Suddenly the chapel turns
into a comfortable room; the chapel
light into a brilliant lamp, hanging
gbove a table already set. Four chairs
■are placed around the table. In the
corner a fire burns in the stove. The
background where the statuer were be
comes obscure.
The Madonna With the Child.
The Madonna bends down over the
soldier and kisses him on the brow.
Then he lays off the coats, arises strong
and well and steps In a fresh uniform
to the table. The Madonna with the
Child follows him. She has become
a real woman.
The Mother (handing him the child,
which seems to be a little more than
two years old)—Won't you hold Gott
lieb a little while? I’ll bring In the
supper. Mother will soon be here.
The Soldier (takes the child, which
begins at once to play with the buttons
and braids of the uniform)—Are you
going to be a roldier, too. Gottlieb?
The Child (nods eagerly and grasps
after the whistle which hangs on the
father's breast)—Blow!
The Soldier—When you are big you
will have a fine uniform and a whistle
•nd a horse!
| The Child—Blow! Horse!
I The statue of the woman descends
'as if she were coming from outside out
of the storm.
The Soldier—God greet you, mother!
(He gives her his hand and helps her
out of her mantle.)
The Mother -Is the child good? I
have something pretty for him if he is
good. (She gives him a wooden horse j
ond wheels.) How much he looks like
you! Your very image!
The Child—Horse! Horse!
The Soldier (hanging the whistle
about the child’s neck)—Now I will
pull the horse and if he doesn’t get up,
you blow!
The Mother—Y’our uniform is so be
coming. I love to look at you. Your
father always looked so fine when he
had his uniform on. But see that you
become a sergeant, as he was! If you
don’t I shall be ashamed.
The Soldier—Don’t be afraid, moth
er! I’ll be one soon.
The Comrade.
The wife comes with a big soup bowl.
The statue of the man has also come
down from the pedestal. It is the
Comrade. He lays aside his snowy
cloak and appears in a spick and span
uniform.
The Comrade—Greetings, all!
The Soldier—Leopold! How nice
that you are here!
The Comrade—I’m off duty until to
morrow evening.
The Wife—There’s a plate waiting
for you. Just as if we had known you
were coming!
The Comrade—Didn't you know that
I was coming? (Suddenly in an al
tered tone, very solemnly)—Is that ba
con there? (The lamp grows dim.
Silence.)
The Soldier (standing up)——Yes.
Bacon. 1 brought it with me. (Shud
ders). From far, far away. Yor you,
comrade. (He brings the bacon from
the bench, which now looks like a
couch, and puts it on the table.)
The Wife—The lamp bums badly
this evening. (She turns it up; the
room is again bright and comfortable.)
What! Gottlieb! He has a horse and
whistle.
The Comrade (lifting the child up)—
Guess what I am going to give him.
The Child—Okoladi!
The Comrade—You little sly one,
you’ll be a minister some day. (He
gives the child a piece of chocolate.)
The Wife—Wait until after the
soup!
The Child—Ikoladi! Okoladi!
The Mother—If he eats no soup he
gets no chocolate.
The Child—Soup! Soup!
The Mother—Y’es; but not so fast.
Wait. I’ll blow on it. Mother, serve it
out, please. Otherwise the little scamp
will give us no rest. (The mother
serves the soup.)
The Soldier—Much work today?
The Comrade—Very easy. If it could
only once get serious. Always to play
at being soldier—that never satisfies
anybody.
The Mother—Thank God, you only
play at being soldier! You all don’t
know how terrible war is. We older
people can tell you too much about
that.
The Comrade—Oh. well. I’d like to
get into the thick of it for once. Not
always stand around and wait.
The Child—Okoladi!
The Wife—Now you get your choco
late from Uncle Leopold. But thank
him iirst!
The Comrade—Don’t spoil his pleas
ure by making him say thanks. He
shall see whether he likes it.
The Child—Bacon!
The Comrade (suddenly standing up)
—Is there more bacon here? (It be
comes gloomier.)
Tlie Soldier—Don't talk so!
The Wife—Don’t let us think of un
pleasant things. Let us be glad that
we all sit here together and are well
and sound! (It becomes brighter
again.)
The Comrade—Friends, I must go.
Out into the wood. God keep you all!
(He disappears into the background,
then returns.) I leave you my cloak
there. So that you won't feel cold,
brother. (He lays the cloak on the
couch.)
The Soldier—I think you. brother;
but here it is warm enough. (The Com
rade disappears again.)
The Mother (getting up softly) —
Farewell, my son! Sleep well, and may
God protect you this night as he has
protected you until now. And may 't
always go well with little Gottlieb! If
he some day has a son, then may he
also be protected when far from home!
(She kisses the child, the wife and the
soldier, takes her wrap and vanishes
into the background. Silence.)
The wife holds the child to her
breast and sings softly:
Lullaby, lullaby,
I rock my little child;
Out there's the snow.
Lullaby, lullaby.
Many must weary be
Out in the snow.
Lullaby, lullaby.
You're safe with mother here;
Out there's the snow.
The song dies away and the child
falls asleep.
The Soldier (taking the hand of his
wife and bending over her)—Marie, I
thank you that we have so dear a child.
(The wife nods silently).
The Soldier—I feel in such high spir
its. As if this evening were an extra
ordinary evening, unlike any other that
I have ever known.
The Wife—Listen, is there not sing
ing in the air?
The Soldier—It seems to me I hear
something.
The Wife—It is the singing of love
in our hearts.
The Soldier—Yes. Our wedding day
was wonderful, but today I have an
even deeper and more wonderful feel
ing.
The wife rises and puts the child
carefully in the big bread basket. It
lies there as if in a cradle, faintly
lighted by the lamp. One no longer
knows whether it is lamp light or the
eternal light.
The Soldier—I have never loved you
so much as I do today. That I know
now for all time.
The Wife—Dearest Tony! (She lays
her head on his breast. A long si
lence. It becomes darker and darker.
Finally she straightens up, softly takes
the child in one arm, puts the other
about Tony and leads him to the couch.
He sinks down. She covers him with
the coat and hapds him the child. Mo
tionless she stands, bending over his
forehead.)
The Wife—Joy and love for all of
us.
Love Can Never End.
The Soldier—Love can never end. It
is beyond grief and death.
The Wife—And beyor.d tears.
The Soldier—If I ever die. you must
be with me.
The Wife—We shall live always, you,
I and our child.
She steps with the child into the
shadows. Darkness becomes complete,
except for the faint light of the hang
ing lamp. The chapel is again the same
•as at the beginning. The wild rose]
stems gleam red, stars look down on
the glistening wood. After a while the
comrade comes through the deep snow
with two black mantled brethren, who
carry a stretcher.
The First Brother—Haven’t you lost
your way? Your footsteps are covered
up in the snow.
The Comrade—The rose bushes have
guided me through the gloom. I thank
you for following me. We are nearly
there.
The Second Brother—A wall
The Comrade—That is the chapel.
The First Brother—See how the
roses shine even in winter
The Second Brother—And the stars
In heaven!
The Comrade—I will go in. Wait
here so that lie will not be frightened.
Maybe he has fallen asleep.
(He enters; they put the stretcher
against the wall and remain standing
at the entrance, each at his post.)
The First Brother—Doesn't it sieem
as if there could be nothing alive in
all this silence?
The Second Brother—Dead roses and
stars.
The First Brother—-And the lonely
light, the soul of man in a snowbound
world.
The Second Brother—Over the world
and its sorrows the peace of eternity.
The comrade kneels before the dead
man. The brethren silently bow their
heads. The rose stems shed a deeper
glow.
SATURDAY PICNICS.
(Copyright, 1916, by the McClure News
paper Syndicate,)
As soon as spring weather comes
Saturday picnics should be a part of
every school child’s life; that is to say,
Saturdays should be given over to en
tertainment and recreation out of doors.
In the colder weather, too, it is possible
to have fun outdoors on Saturdays.
But outdoors picnics are not quite in
prder. An indoors picnic party there
fore proves of great interest to the
youngsters, and would make a very
good sort of birthday entertainment.
The whole idea should be to make
the indoors picnic as much like a real
picnic as possible.
To begin with, make the house look
is much like outdoors as you can. Have
palms and ferns about, if you have any,
ind fill in the gaps with green crepe
paper. A few dead branches of trees,
with bits of green paper for leaves and
pink paper for blossoms will transform
any room into a veritable dell in the
woods. And several little nooks and
crannies fitted up in this way will de
light the childish hearts for whom the
picnic is given.
The children may all come in cos
tume, if desired—in scouts’ suits or In
dian suits, or any other outdoor suits
they may possess.
Outdoor games may be played, if pos
sible. The rooms in which the picnic
Is given should be emptied, as much as
possible, of breakables, so that “Be
“areful!” need not be spoken too often.
And puss In the corner, blindman’s buff,
tag and other simple outdoors games
may safely be played.
Of course, the lunch is the important
part of any picnic.
It should be packed in tiny baskets
pr boxes, one for each child. Paper
tiapkins and paper plates should be
jsed and paper cups may be used for
water or lemonade—proper picnic bev
binges.
In each lunch box, there should ba t
several sandwiches, an olive or two, a i
bouple of cakes or cookies, and a ticket
lor ice cream. The children will find 1
great fun in presenting the ice cream £
lickets for redemption in the dining ,
■oom.
If prizes are given for any of the ‘
games or competitions, they might ap- 1
proprlately be bird or flower books, .
garden tools, or something else to do
with the outdoors.
-- 1
Germany’s Milk Supply. s
Letter in New York World.
Does it not seem appropriate that the
iress should at least look into a charitable i
iropaganda before adopting it? Is is not ,
limple Justice to the public, which depends 1
ipon you for guidance in humanitarian *
■nterprlses, that you should not permit ]
,-ourself to be used in a cause which is
palpable buncombe?
I refer to the agitation for milk to “feed j
:he 3,000,000 starving babies of Germany.” .
3unday all the New- York papers carried a 1
dory of a proposal to send a cargo of j
nilk to Germany In a submarine. Articles
if apparent serious Import daily are seen <
•eferring to the possibility of England and
France combining to keep out of Ger- .
many a few cases of milk that may or I
nay not be—generally are not—on board |
tome neutral ship. Then we have goose
lesh horrors over the terrible suffering 1
if the innocents which is to follow such
barbarity. .
What are the facts? I mean what ara '
die facts as to the instigation of this pal- |
liable fraud on the charitable instincts of ,
the American public? The facts as to the 1
base in Germany are open and need but to |
be stated to epose the fraud.
Germany is an agricultural country.
Hungary is agricultural, Austria is agrl- j
cultural. Switzerland, Denmark and
Bulgaria are, with the exception of Hoi- ;
land, Norway and Sweden, the greatest !
dairy countries in the world. Germany
lias access to all the supplies of milk
that were ever available to her in time of i
peace. She not only has access to these
sources of supply, but to those of Den
mark and Bulgaria she has exclusive ac- i
cess, and to the supplies of Holland, the ,
greatest of all producers, she has the
easiest access of any consumer. (
Now take the proposals of the propa
gandists. Three million babies would
require at least 6,000,000 pounds of milk l
per day to alleviate their terrible suffer- ,
ing. Thirty thousand tons of milk are
needed to feed these starving infants for I
one day—210,000 tons per week; and the
propagandists, who no doubt wish to take
lip a collection, propose to send a sub- 1
marine load—two tons of powdered milk
at most, equivalent to 10 tons of milk—
with the whole navy of the United State! 1
to see that it reaches the “3,000,000 little
starving babies” one-third of one day.
Turn on the light. Stop some of this
maudlin appeal to the unthinking.
New York. January 17. J. L. F.
What They Missed.
From the Cincinnati Enquirer.
Napoleon never voted the prohibition
ticket.
Oliver Cromwell never rode In an auto
mobile.
Jeanne d'Arc never rode on the rear seat
of a motorcycle.
Cleopatra never wore a union suit.
Julius Caesar could play anything but
pinochle.
The Queen of Sheba never had to stand
up in a street ear,
Nero never tried to blow out the gas.
A Shade of Difference.
From the Michigan Gargoyle.
“Willie, didn't I tell you not to play with
that Wiggins boy?"
"I ain't playin’ wit' him, I'm fighting
wit’ him.”
4 From the Outlook. 4
4 There are houses full of con- 4
4 veniences and luxuries in which no 4
4 one is at home; the men and women 4
4 who live in them are homeless. To 4
4 such men and women, as to the 4
4 men and women to whom marriage 4
4 is a mere social contract and the 4
: family a mere social arrangement, 4
there'Is no going home, no refuge 4
4 for the spirit, no place of under- 4
4 standing and vision. There are no 4
4 more pathetic tlgures in the world 4
4 of today than these homeless men 4
4 and women; restless, discontented. 4
4 and unhappy, and utterly blind to 4
4 the tragedy of a life in which there 4
4 Is no going home.
♦
NU uUNbUHIrllUN
No War Tax on Land—Embargo
on Shipment of Live Stock
Removed.
During the prevalence of the foot
and-mouth disease in some portions of
;he United States, an embargo was
placed upon inter-state shipments,
rhis also had an effect upon ship
nents to Canada, and necessarily an
embargo was placed upon them, mak
ng it almost impossible for upwards
)f a year to ship cattle into Canada,
'rom the United States. This was es
pecially hard on the settler. As a re
sult, Western Canada lost a number of
settlers, they being unable to take
heir li\e stock with them. Canada is
tactically free from horse and cattle
liseases, and the wish of the authori
ses is to keep it so.
Recently, though, an order has been
ssued by the Department of Agricul
ure, removing the embargo, and set
lers are now free to take in the num
ser of head of horses or cattle that are
sermitted by the Customs authorities
md the freight regulations. This will
>6 welcome news to those whose in
ention it is to move to Canada, taking
vith them stock that they have had in
heir possession for six months, and
vhich it is the intention to use on land
hat they will farm in the Provinces
if Manitoba, Saskatchewan or Alberta.
There are thousands of splendid
lomesteads of 160 acres each in any
if these provinces that may be had
ipon the payment of a ten-dollar en
ry fee and fulfilling the requisite liv
ng and cultivation duties. These
ands are well adapted to the growing
if all the small grains, and besides, V.
laving an abundance of grass, and suf k
icient shelter, they are well adapted *
u the raising of stock.
If one prepares to purchase land,
here could be no better time than the
iresent. Prices are low, and particu
ars may be had from any of the land
ompanies, of which there are several.
>r from the Canadian Pacific and Ca
ladian Northern railways, whose hold
ngs are in the older settled districts,
,nd whose terms are exceedingly easy
o the settler. What these lands will
0 in the matter of production cannot
ie more strongly emphasized than in
eading the reports of the crops
hroughout all parts of the Canadian
Vest in 1915. Yields of 50, 60, and as
iigh as 70 bushels of wheat to the
ere were numerous, while reports of
ields of from 30 to 46 bushels per
ere were common. Oats as high as
30 bushels per acre are reported, 5#
nd 60 bushels per acre being ordi
tary. The prices realized by farmers
lave placed most of them on "easy
treet.”
Lately there have appeared articles
n a number of United States news
lapers to the effect that there was con
ception in Canada, or that such a
aw was likely to be put into effect.
Ve have it from the highest authority
u the Dominion that there is no truth
n the statement. Sir Robert Borden
,t the opening of Canadian parliament
in January 17th, said:
"In the first few months of the war
clearly stated that there would not
ie conscription in Canada. I repeat
hat statement today."
This statement should set at rest
he conscription talk that has been so
reely used to influence those who may
le considering settling in Canada dur
ng the war.
It has also been said tfcat there was
1 war tax on land. Hon. Br. Roche,
dinister of the Interior, over his own
lignature has denied this, and the pre
niers of the different provinces join
n saying "such a report ia absolutely
mtrue, and has no foundation wliat
iver in fact, nor is there likely ever
o be any ruch tax upon land In
Canada.”
The general prosperity of Western
Canada farmers and business institu
ions is such that Canada is well able
o take care of the extra war expenses
vithout any direct war taxation. This
lar been well illustrated by the mag
lificent resporse to the Bemiiuon Gov
imment's recent bond issue, which
vas more than doubly subscribed for
vithin the first eight hours of its be
i,g offered to the public.
(The above appears as an advertise
nent and is paid for the Dominion
lovernment which authorizes its pub
ication.)
The Reason.
“It is queer you did not notice How
the wind was howling last night."
“So was the baby.”
Just So.
“I am on the scent of success.”
•What are you doing?"
“Raising onions.”
Not Gray Bairs bot Tired Eyes
make us look older than we are. Kee&
your Eyes young and you will look young.
After the Movies Murine Your Byes Don’t
tell your age. Murine Eye Remedy Co..
Chicago, Sends Eye Book on request.
A Compromise.
"Would you class telephone opera
tion as a profession?”
"Isn't it a calling?”
The Difference.
"I’d like to get a mile away from a
spoiled child."
'T'd like to get a rod near him.”
To oil automobile springs automat
ically there has been invented a lu
bricant holding pad to be strapped
around them.