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,
