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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 22, 1917)
SEVEN TEARS AGO JDTW Tr.cn He Had 6 Mules, $660 Cash and Some Equity-r-Today He Has $20,000 and Owns 2 Sections of Land. The story of the wealth of Western Canada cannot be told too often; the truih vvtJ1 bear repeatlngs. And in tolling of it It is hoped that advantage will be taken of the great opportuni ty; that Western Cauadu offers by those who are today struggling for a mere existence, by those who are oc cupying lands, high in price and high in rentals. From grain, live stock and dairying in 1016, Uiere was a return from the three Prairie Provinces of $258,000,000, or un increase of four million dollars, over 1915, and 118 million dollars over 1914. A prominent Trust Company says: Some of our contract holders have paid off th^r purchase money on lands bought a year ngo out of this year s crop, and what one man can do anoth er can do. Thousands of Southern Al berta farmers harvested an average of 40 to 50 bushels of No. 1 wheat to the acre. These farmers have more real moncar to spend than any other people dp the American Continent. .T. I>. Johnston of Rlndsworth. Sask.. left Johnson County, Kansas, seven years ago. When he left he had $600 in ■cash, six males, some settler’s effects *nd an equity in some prairie lund. Mr. Johnston tells his story: “In trry seven years’ residence In Saskatchewan, I hnve raised seven good crops the vnlue of this year's crop alone being Twenty thousand dol lars. I now own Two Sections of Im proved land, 17 horses and mules, 40 cattlg, a large steam thresher and a fuIlUAo of farm machinery.” we have made flvo trips to Kansas, one trip to the Pacific Const and re tain. We have enjoyed the society of la claps of people than whom none bet ter tan be found. The climate Is heaMiftil and Invigorating. The soil la faftlle and productive, well adapted for the production of the best quality and large yields of all cereals and' rejjptables, wild and tnmo grasses. It Is an excellent stock country." The question of taxes Is one that) carries with It considerable weight. Coming from a rnan like Mr. Johnston the same weight should be given the answer. Ho says: i no tax system especially commends Itself to mu ns being simple, reason able and just. All direct taxes nro levied on the land at Its appraised murket value, exclusive of Improve ments thereon. No tax on personal property. This tends to discourage the holding of lands by speculators Who prevent Its cultivation or Improve ment, hoping to realize profits from the chanced value of their holdings due to the industrial activities of the bonn flde settlers. It tends to encournge the settlers to rear substantial improve ments upon their land without paying a penalty In the form of taxation therefor. It encourages the raising of live stock and the possession of other porsonul property necessary to the de velopment of the country. “The laws are well nnd economically administered. Citizens of the Domin ion vote on election of members of parliament and members of the Pro vincial assembly, while on questions of local Improvements and school mat ters the franchise is exercised by rate payers, Irrespective of citizenship. The people are enterprising, school facilities are good Taxation, just nnd reasonable. Military service volun tary. Patriotic fervor unsurpassed,; law and order the rule, nnd crime the rare exception. It Is the land of banks, schools, telephones, grnln elcN vators, broad, fertile acres, good cli mate, good citizenship nnd abounding in opportunities for the Industrious man or woman of good mornls, in short, the lnnd of promise nnd fulfill ment. I know of no hotter anywhere.” -—Advertisement. Just for Show. “Why does Mr. Grabcoln give a niu slcule once or twice a year? She has no taste for music.” “That’s true, but Mrs. Grabcoln Is the only woman In our town who can afford to pay a grand opera star $1,000 for two or three songs nnd she feels In duty bound to remind her neighbors of that fact.” A MINISTER’S CONFESSION Rev. W. n. Warner. Myersville, Md„ writes: “My trouble wns sciatica. My back was affected and took the form of lumbago. 1 also had neuralgia, cramps in my mus cles, pressure or sharp pain on the top of my head, and nervous dizzy spells. I hnd oth er symptoms show ing my kidneys were ai lauu, so 1 took Dodd’s Kidney I'll la. They were the means of saving my life. I write to sny tliat your medicine restored me to perfect health.” Be sure and get "DODD’S," the name with the three 1» for dis eased, disordered, deranged kidneys; Just as Rev. Warner did. no similarly named article will do.—Adv. Its Sort. -tiood story this about the rattle •mike, wasn’t itV -V'es; rattling good atory.’ The Man Who Forgot A NOVEL By JAMES HAY, JR. GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1915 CHAPTER SIX.—(Continued). “I wish I had known one like him instead of-” And a clerk, worn to the pale semblance of a real, animated, strong man, looked at him won dcringly, thinking: “How can a man look like that after a day’s work? He must he made differently from the rest of us.” Such was the elation, the fer vid triumph, in the soul of John Smith because of the great man’s promise. CHAPTER SEVEN. Arriving in Washington at 7 :30 in tho morning, having lost hut one whole day in his trip to New York, Smith left the sleeping car and went straight to his apart ment. The fervor of triumph was still upon him. “It is settled,” he said to him self, as he took a seat in the street car in front of the station. He gazed with new interest at the great dome of the capital glistening under the white sun | light. “So many things have been ' done beneath you,” he said, ad dressing the big pile mentally. “So many great things, so many little things, have east their echoes to your roof—hut nothing like this—nothing. You are about to reverberate to something new, something entirely and utterly new.” He hurried through his break fast and went to the office build ing near the capitol. The one I room he had occupied at first had grown now into three, and he had found it necessary to employ two stenographers in order to keep up with tho correspondence that poured in upon him from every state in the union. His mail had been stacked on his desk. The first letter ho picked up was on Senate stationery. It was signed by Thomas F. Mallon, and it said : My Dear Sir: Owing to tho marked difference be tween our views on a certnin public I question which you are so busily agl- j tatlng, and because of the rather, marked lack of any congeniality be tween us. you doubtless will realize the embarrassment that might follow our meeting In a social way anywhere. Consequently, you. do doubt., will ob serve the same caro that 1 shall In tho future to avoid the possibility of any «uch encounter. I I have communicated to my daughter my views on this subject. Very truly yours, etc. Without reading it twice, he tore it into small pieces, throwing; the fragments into the waste paper basket. His face did not change expression. There was no I nervousness in his hands or in his! ! movements. He looked up Wal ler’s apartment telephone num ber and called for it. While he waited for the response, he looked through the window to the gorge ously colored foliage in the eapitol grounds. His attitude was that of any man who uses the telephone on a matter of routine hut some what important business. “Hello!” came Waller's voice. “Good morning,” Smith re plied. “Sorry to bother you so early in the day, Waller. Fact is, I didn’t stop to think of the hour. But there’s something I want you to find out for me.” “Go ahead!” Sleepiness was in Waller’s tone. “What is it?” “Get a line on why Senator Mnllon is so bitter toward me.” “But can I?” “Certainly you can.” “All right. I’ll begin on it to day.” “That's the man! And I want it as soon as I can get it.” “That’s mo!” “And, Waller, do it quietly.” “How do you mean, quietly?” “I don't want him or anybody —-anybody—to know that I care to fiud out about it.” “Leave it to me,” Waller as sured him. “Say, where have you been?” “New York.” “Anything doing?” “Yes. Meet me in Manners ley's committee rooms at 2 this afternoon.'' “Mannersley’s?” Waller's as tonishment made the receiver rattle. “Yes—at 2.” “All right, I’ll be there. Good —'■ ■■ ■■ ■ — I 7 by.” “Good by.” He looked at his watch and saw that he had only an hour in which to dispose of the remainder of his mail. He turned directly to the task, going to a door and calling in one of the stenographers. “Let’s be as fast as we can, Miss Jeliffe,” he said quietly. “I’ve an important appointment uptown.” Not once had it occurred to him that Edith Mallon could have had the slightest thing to do with his banishment from her home. Sena tor Mallon’s attitude did not dis turb him except that it struck him as an unnecessary insolence—and an inconvenience. If it did not worry her, he was satisfied. He would be able to deal with the sen ator. He had dealt with senators before. The lobby was attacking him in his social relations at last. Obviously, such a motive had in spired Mallon. And his experience had taught him the ease of fight ing people whose tactics are the fruits of mean motives. As he worked, his serenity was un ruffled. Miss Mallon was not so fortu nate. She was neither serene nq^ unruffled. Bowling down Massa chusetts avenue in her electric a few minutes before noon, she looked at the golden brown and russet red of the trees which stretched, like two big folds of fairy embroidery, on both sides of the street. It was a day when the world seemed awash with gold. A touring car, crowded with girls and young men, overtook and sped past her. On the sidewalk, at a corner, an Italian ground his organ while golden haired, freshly dressed children danced to the music. “In the aggregate,” she thought, “on the whole, the world is always lovely, always beautiful, as it is today. But, to make up that whole, how much of pain there is. how much of suffering!” Her father’s words at the breakfast, table that morning still rang in her ears : “I wrote to your friend Mr. Smith yesterday, forbidding him the house.” What an outrage that was! Why should anybody, her father even, presume to say who should be her associates or who should not? Of course it would be im possible for him to come to the house. She could subject neither him nor herself to the awkward ness of it, but, equally, of course, she would see him quite frequcnt lv elsewhere. Why had she committed her self so utterly in her own heart? Why had she accepted, without argument, the- fact that she loved him? Suppose sl.e were called on to . explain her feeling — what would she say? She dismissed these reflections as rapidly as they came. She loved him. And, since she did love him, she could see no reason for trying to disguise the fact to herself, She was like that. Laic the night before, with her brain reeling from the intensity and constancy with which she had reviewed and re-reviewed that scene with him when he had re fused her his confidence, the truth had come to her as a certainty, a conviction. She knew now. Noth ing could have shaken her belief in the truth of what she knew. She knew, and she loved him. For her, those were the only two really important, things in the world— her belief in him, and her love for him. She remembered a famous evangelist having said to her once: “There are only two big things in this life, Miss Mallon— the things we do to those who love us, aTid the things that arc done to us by those whom we love." That had expressed her philosophy ex actly. She was going now to call for John Smith at his office. As far as she herself was con cerned, her own intentions, her own trust in the future, nothing annoyed her. That which did at tack her happiness was the fear of what he, through his quixotic ideas, his conscientious regard for her, might consider it his duty to do. Her memory of the grief that he had felt in refusing her what she had asked, the story of his life, was vivid before her. She feared to distress liirn .again. Edith Mallon was an unusual woman. Old Senator Watrus called her “the most, wonderful among women.” Washington is a city famous for it« men rather than its women. The women, sur rounded by affairs of state, im mersed in a flood of political gos sip, breathing always the atmos phere of national affairs, seldom make an effort to study and un derstand the very thing in which their husband live and move and have their being. Edith was one of the two women in Washington who read the Congressional Rec ord every morning. Her mornings she kept to herself. Senators and representatives charged with the framing of legislation affecting the humanities—better working hours for women, better health conditions, legislation affecting food, the betterment of children’s conditions—found her a valuable adviser, sought her opinions on de tails which many hours of public hearing had not made clear. She was far more than a delightful partner at a dance, a center of brilliance at a dinner, a woman whom men sought in marriage. She was a student. And, like Cholliewollie, she knew her Wash ington. Cholliewollie, who knew everybody, had told her once, at the end of an interview with her for his paper: You d better look out for this woman suffrage stuff. Some day it will result in defeating your re vered father and making a United States senator out of you!” In addition to the special and imperious attraction John Smith had for her, she realized to the full the greatness of the work he already had done. His conquest of society, as Waller had pointed out, had been complete. That had been due entirely to the charm of his personality and the delightful ness of his wit. People had ac cepted him at face value. He was he —that was enough. And, when the gossip had started about his mys terious past, old Mrs. Grover, who always suspected any strange man of being a chauffeur in disguise, had said, “If his past is as charm ing as his present, it has no terrors for me”—a sentiment that was re ceived as an accurate description of the whole city's attitude to ward him. But the impression he had made on men, on officialdom, had been far more remarkable. Congress is like any other large assemblage of men. It is dominated by a small group—a little band of leaders in the House, another in the Senate. It must be so. Unless it were, nothing ever could be accom plished. And the leaders disregard outside considerations, extraneous issues, anything other than the legislative program laid down in the conferences between them selves and the president. That is, they disregard it until the popular voice—that vague, powerful, irre sistible thing which they call “public opinion”—begins to cry like a wanderer in the wilderness. Even then they disregard it until it reaches a key which shows that, unless it is answered, vengeance will be visited on the responsible party at the polls. Mic knew this as well as auy of the lawmakers know it. She knew, also, that the prohibition agita tion had been for 30 years a cry in the wilderness, a call that congress had disregarded. Since she had met Smith, she had studied that problem as thoroughly as she had gone into many others. She knew the reluctance of any politician to touch the question. She remem bered the motto in Washington : "If you’re for liquor, off goes your head; if you’re Against it, off it goes.” She knew that the bulk of the members had proceeded on the policy—the convenient policy—of saying: "This is nothing for the federal government to interfere with. Let the states or the various communities deal with it as they see fit.” Of course it was coward ice, she argued, when makers of the law kept their hands off what they knew was an evil and ex cused their apathy by contentions that contained no common sense. But the lethargy had continued. Then, when Smith had ap peared, his first attack had been on what he termed "the hypoc risy, the smug slumber, of con gress.” lie had called them cow ards openly, had stated in his speeches and interviews that only cowards would refuse to right a wrong that was patent to all. And, what was far more effective, he had told them, in terms startlingly clear, of the woe alcohol brought to the people, of the waste it put on the country. He had made he public see the individual sorrows of the burdened women, the pa thetic ruin of the men. And, as is J always the case in such an agita tion, the response had come, slow ly at first—so slowly that it had hardly dimmed the smiles of de 1 " rision with which he had been wel comed to Washington—and then in increasing volume until mem bers had begun to “sound out’* the sentiment in their districts and the whisky interests had sent int® Washington a regiment of thei* smoothest, suavest men to aet a® lobbyists. Now the fight was on. Only Mannersley and a majority of hi® committee stood in the way, re fusing to report to the House the resolution authorizing the consti tutional amendment. The House could not act without anything be fore it. And Mannersley and hi® colleagues, for reasons known only to themselves, shut their ears to argument and sat,, stubborn, un yielding, unreachable by the friends of prohibition, while Smith and the organizations in sympathy with him headed the country'® clamor. Edith, making this mental cata log of the marvelous work the man had done, was passing La fayette pn*k on Jackson Plaea when she caught sight of him on the sidewalk in front of her. The first idea that came into her mind was that he had never looked so electrie, so—so—‘ ‘ impregnable ” was the word she hit on finally. She drew up longside of him. un sucn a morning, sue in vited, as he stepped forward to meet her, “and with such a chauf feur, won’t you come with me?” She thought he hesitated for a fractional moment. Then, stepping around to the other side of the ma chine, he opened the door and took his place beside her. “Anywhere,” he laughed, liia eyes all complitnent, “with such a chauffeur!” In spite of her air of lightness, i he saw immediately that she was troubled. He wondered if sho knew of his having received the letter from her father. “Where have you been?” sho inquired, as they bowled down be tween the White House and the state, war and navy building, to ward Potomac park. . “I’m just back from the British! I embassy,” he explained. “And the secret mission?” “The ambassador wanted to tell me that Lord Kitchener is about to issue a proclamation asking the people of Great Britain to cooper ate in his plan to keep liquor out of the army on the continent. You know, the ambassador got from me some months ago data about the physical effects of alcohol om the men.” “Isn’t that splendid!” she ap plauded. “The Russians have come to the same way of thinking. The countess told me yesterda^ that the czar is immensely pleased with the effects of his order pro* hibiting vodka drinking while the military operations continue. II* is so pleased with the benefits t» the peasantry that he has in^ structed his advisers to draw up a financial scheme which will make the government independent of the revenue it now gets from vodi ka. He wants no more of it ia Russia.” -n-iiu yt*L, ne scuci iiimgnamiy i “we Americans, who hoast of oni common sense, submit to whisky !’* She turned the machine to ih« right, past the Corcoran art gal j lery. \ “Have you time for a run round the speedway?” Her manner was suddenly quit* grave. “Oh, yes,” he answered, look* ing at her keenly. “There is something I want te talk to you about,” she continued, “something that troubles m« , greatly.” | “I think,” he said, his voici j warm with gratitude, “I know what it is.” “But I am wondering,” shi mused gently, “what you will say.” She had turned sharply to th< right again, taking the long, flal road that leads straight into th* west and seems to run shoe* against the Virginia foothills, th* white columns of Arlington, and the flags of Port Myer. “Is it,” he asked, “so serious as that?” “Quite,” she said, turning 1* him so that he saw all the grav* loveliness of her face. CHAPTER EIGHT. He had intended to tell her ef the thing his trip to New Yor£ had developed, but bis thought of her trouble kept him silent for th* moment. ' i “I got your father’s letter—this morning,” he said at last, seeking to make it easier for her. He was wonderiug that sh« should be so friendly, so person ally interested, toward him after his behavior two days before at her home. There was a sharp little intak* of her breath between her lips. (Continued VVtek.) No sick headache, biliousness, bad taste or constipation by morning. Get a 10-cent box. i Are you keeping your howels, liver, f>nd stomach clean, pure and fresh with Cascarets, or merely forcing a passageway every few days with Salts, Cathartic Pills, Castor Oil or Purgative Waters? Stop having a bowel wash-day. Let Cascarets thoroughly cleanse and reg ulate the stomach, remove the sour and fermenting food and l'oul 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 groat 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. Just to Show Them. "So you have been on a visit to your boyhood home?” “Yes,” replied the prosperous-looking citizen. “‘How dear to my heart ase the scenes of my childhood when fond rec ollection presents them to view.’ ” “I know that’s what the poet wrote, but my principal object in going back was to show the people there that that dirty-faced good-for-nothing Johnson boy’ has amounted to soinel&lng in the world.” ACTRESS TELLS SECRET. A well known actress gives the follow ing recipe for gray hair: To half pint of water add X oz. Bay Bum, a small box of Barbo Compound, and % oz. of gtypOTine. Any druggist can put this up or yotr’can mix It at home at very little eost. JPull directions for making and use come In each box of Barbo Compound. It will gradually darken streaked, faded gray hair, and make It soft and glossy, rt will ■ot color the scalp, is not stltkjr er greasy, and does not rub off. Adv. Psychical Research at Harvard. Provision has been made in the de partment of psychology at Harvard for the investigation of such "sapevasnal" . phenomena as may seem to belong to \ mental science. In other words, psychical research may be undertaken. Work lias begun by testing the tele pathic sensitiveness of people In gen eral. This leads the Unpopular Maga zine to say: “It is hoped that In time they will investigate it in people show ing signs of possessing it. Perhaps, however, as tests Improve, they may find that everybody possesses it in some degree just as Sir 'William Crookes satisfied himself iu bis labor atory that everybody possesses tele kinetic power in some degree. Of course instruments for measuring either can hardly be said yet to exist, though Sir Williams’ tests had some quantitative features.” He Brightened Up. A aewsy was standing in a doorway in Nashville, Tenn., sobbing piteously, in expectation of getting rid of his papers to some charitably inclined person unused to ids stereotyped tale of a sick mother and nothing to eat in the house. Tho editor of the big daily he car ried. unknown to the boy, happened along. “Get out in the street and cry out what's in tfe* paper, instead of whim pering there in that corner!” he called •ut. "Huh!” answered the boy, “there's ■ antin' in it!” combined with good judgment 4 counts in business now-a-days. Grape-Nuts ■ FOOT* supplies balanced nourishment for sturdy muscles and active brains. “There’s a Reason” Ao change in price, quality I or jute of pacKagc,