THE FAKMEKS' ALLIANCE, LTNCOliX, NEB.. IlIUKSDAY, NOV. 20, 1891.
TVell have to take that money, Mr. '
Scrajrcs." John aaid.
.
"So you've concluded to accept the
accommodation, eh?" Scrapg replied
as he again broupht forth the papers.
"No." John Raid, "we have only con
cluded to pet robbed.
"Well, call it what vou please, Mr. !
Green," said Scraps, "but it is an ac- dbuu in. uu,.ug "- " ";,"
commodation, just the same. If we hU dignity, and she was hatihuea. Of
didn't let you have the money you'd course she had aaved h;m from all ex
Buffcr, for you can't get it anywhere pensoon Mary's account and kept that
.la, n terms." - , raoro mer for ,,crself' but tba
John had no inclination to argue the
matter, so he made no reply, and
u nwuui.lnil drnor tin the
paper! In a few minutes the writings ' her feelings snftkientiy nn.lcr control
were completed, signed and delivered, i to be able to cease her fears and sobs,
and John received lib money. He and I "I hope I have not said too much. I
Mary immediately left the office, and w sorry that your daughter cannot ,oc
with sorrowful hearts walked down the enpy the place in your heart that a child
treeL and after making some purchase (
at the store drove home.
CHAPTEB IV.
Till I.ATCHroRDfc
When old Farmer Green announced to
the world that he had disowned and dis
inherited his son ho felt he had put the
finishing stroke to his duty. When he
thundered forth the awful edict he ended
his connection with this story, so we
gently drop him out of its pages feel
ing thnt his absence can well do sparea.
Blatchford, however, cannot so read
ily be dispowd of, since he figures in
the narrative to the end, therefore it b
necessary to go back and give a little
further account of him.
At the time John and Mary married,
Hiram Blatchford had been a widower
for two years, and he remained so until
after hb daughter removed to Kansas.
Soon after that event, though, ho mot
Miss Sarah Spickler, nn elderly spinster,
and asked her to share his home. Miss
Spickler having been on the matri
monial market for a good many years
with no bidders for her hand, was des
perate enough to accept any sort of
offer, and accordingly she snapped
Blatchford up in short order.
Miss Spickler was anything but
pretty, and her temper was soured and
her intellect none of the strongest, yet
she had not been In the Blatchford
home a week, as Mrs. Blatchford, be
fore she had her husband under her
thumb, and held complete sway over
everything and everybody about the
place.
Blatchford was her slave from the
first, and with him her word was law.
Whatever she wished she had, and
whatever she commanded to be done
was done without delay. She married
Blatchford for his money, and she was
determined from the first to have it
A month or so after hb marriage
Blatchford began to study about hb
daughter, and the moro he thought of
her the more he became convinced that
he had ill treated her. In short, after
so long a time he came to the conclu
sion that ho was as much to blame as
Mary, and, knowing that she must be
suffering privations, he decided to ex
tend to her tho hand of friendship and
offer to her and John some pecuniary
assistance. Having come to this con
clusion, ho hastened to mention the
matter to hb wife for her sanction.
Sarah listened until ho had unfolded
lib plans, then with uplifted hands and
, staring eyes exclaimed:
"Well, did I ever hear of such a thing
as that! Hiram Blatchford, have you
lost all your senses?"
"Why, Sarah," Hiram replied, taken
back, "what's the matter?"
"Matter?" Sarah repeated. "Well, I'd
a never a believed it, never."
"Never believed what?" Hiram asked.
"Why, that you could ever have been
' taken with such fool notions, Hiram
Whoever heard of the like of it?"
"Whv, I" Hiram stammered and
stopped.
"Whv, vou." Sarah put in, "want
to be a fool, Hiram Blatchford, a regu
lar out and out fool, yon do. That's all
there is of It. Tho idea of you making
the first step towards a reconciliation
between you and your daughter, when
sho threw you away for the sake of
John Green. Yes, if I was you I would.
I'd go and get down on my knees to her,
and own that I was in the wrong. Yes,
I'd do all that, and beg her with tears
in my eyes to come back to my arms."
"Sarah. I"
"Yes, I know what you thought,
Hiram. I know that your soft, silly
heart prompts you to make a fool of
yourself. - But before you do it, ask
vourself if it would lie right. Wasn't
vou alwavs kind and indulgent to Mary,
and didn't you do everything for her
that a father could do?
"Yes, that's true." Hiram replied
with no little inward satisfaction, and
with a growing feeling that ho was a
much abused parent.
"Then you have dono your duty, Hi
ram, more than your duty, and if any
body is to bend tho kneo let it lie the
one who has done wrong. I don't be
lieve in a father being mudo a 6lave to
the whim and wishes of an ungrateful
child. If I had ever had such a father
as you, and had ever crossed him in one
wish even, I never would have forgiven
myself. I couldn't ever looked the
world in the face after being so heart
less and ungrateful. Oh: Hiram, what
a noble, loving, forgiving nature you
have, and how unfeeling must have
been the child who could so ruthlessly
trample upon it"
At thb point the good Sarah, who all
along had shown strong symptoms of
weeping, was so overcome tnat sue
could restrain her tears no longer, and
broke down and poured forth in a per
fect flood on her husband's shoulder.
Hiram was deeply touched, and he was
forced to exert himself to keep back the
tears of self pity that welled up in hb
own eyes, lie had never before real
ized how deeply he had been wronged,
and never before had he understood
how much he had been martyred. Hb
heart went out to himself, and he pitied
himself from the bottom of his souL
"There, there, Sarah," he said, "don't
let the tenderness of your heart cause
you to grieve too sorely for what I have
been made to suffer. 1 promise you
that I shall not forget my wrongs again
soon, since the weakness that possessed
me for a short time b gone, flo, I'll
never make any advances to a child
who so far forgot her duty to me and
treated me with such cruelty, and I am
fr'Ad that you recalled me to myself to
time to save me from WKiny me wp
i had anticipated."
Sarah checked her tear ana oy ae
grees her nobbing ceased. The effort
bbe had made had been a great one, and
her aoul was terribly sore from the
etrecia 01 m out wie nau
would not count for anytliing with such
a noble soul a that of the angelic Sarah.
"Hiram," she said when she had got
snouw occupy in ine near o .i-w,,
and I know I would be the lust person
4 aid in estrantrinir vou from her. Per
haps I have said too much, but I have
your gool so deeply at heart that I
couldn't help saying what I did. It was
all for the sake of your loving, generous
wlf."
"I know that Sarah. I do not mis
understand you. I know how it pains
you to have to say such things, but you
feel It to be your duty, ana you ao h. i
thank you, my dear wife, with all my
HOPE I HAVE NOT BAIP TOO MUCH?"
heart for your disinterested mindful
ness of me. Let us now drop the sub
ject and try to forget it It b not right
that vou should afflict yourself with
thoughts of one who is so far beneath
you in point of goodness, and I will try
and think of her with as much charity
as possible. It b a sad thing to feel the
ingratitude of one's own flesh and
blood a sad thing to bo a parent
spurned by the child for whom I have
done so much. But I can live over it,
Sarah, and perhaps in time forget
There, wo will say no more about it"
Tho good Sarah was quite willing to
let the subject rest, since she had
gained her point Dinner being at
that moment announced, she went out
and took her place at the head of the
table, from which position sho beamed
smiles of love and tender sympathy on
tho old fool, her husband, who sat op
posite her nursing his martyred soul,
Not once, as ho sat at that board
laden with a superabumlunco of the
choicest viands, did old Blatchford feel
a tinge of pity for hb poor daughter,
who was an outcast from home, a
stranger in a strange hind, denied
even tho food necessary to stay the
pangs of hunger. And yet he condoled
himself and imagined that ho had
wounded heart; he, n man who was as
void of heart as the veriest flint.
A week or so after tho incident de
scribed Sarah came to Hiram with
letter from an adjoining state, in which
letter she was informed of tho death of
a married sister. Her sister had left
three children, and Sarah's tender
heart prompted her to take them and
care for them if Hiram wasn t averse
to it.
"Bring them right along," Hiram
said; "we have plenty nnd they must
not suffer. Send for them at once."
Ah!! old man, where was your con
science, your sense of right that it did
not prick you when you thus opened
your homo to a horde of strangers, and
admitted them to the place that De-
longed to one who needed it more
Where was your good angel that it did
not whisper to you of tho sorrow and
troublo, tho foundation of which you
that moment laid with your own hand,
Bitter, bitter will bo the regrets follow
ing that act old man, and though they
may follow at a long distance, they will
surely follow, and terrible will be their
weight when at last they come.
Tho orphans were duly installed In
Blatchford's house, and by him were
educated and supported. The eldest.
boy named Harry, was taken into the
bank, and of him we shall hear more
later on, as ho figures quite extensively
in this history, which would probably
bo less sad if it were less true.
CHAPTER V.
MOTHEll AND DAUGHTER.
With their dearly secured "accommo
dation" John Green's family managed
to get through the winter without suf
fering anything beyond severe priva
tions. Their clothing and fare was, of
course, common and limited, but that
was nothing so long as it kept them
from starving and freezing.
It was a long, dreary winter, especial
ly to Louise, off on the prairie, with no
friends or companions, and no books
or papers, and with nothing to do but
to drag idly through tho days. The
nearest neighbor lived two miles away,
and, that being Markham's, they might
as well have been forty miles away for
all the good they were to Green's, for
since that night when Markham talked
so abusively to Louise there had been
no intercourse between tho two fam
ilies.
Louise grew pensive and melancholy,
and it was plain that sho longed for a
different life, though she never uttered
a complaining word. Once shortly
after Christmas she and her mother
were alone to the cabin, and after they
had sat a long time silent Louise sud
denly said: (
i "Mother, I wish f could manage some
way to go on with my education." -
"So do I, Louise," Mary answered;
"but I can't think of any way that it
can be managed. If we hod the hooks
I could help yoo with your studies, but
we haven't the money to buy liooks."
"I know that mother, but I was
thinking tjat I might borrow im5."
"I don't kauw who you could borrow
them from, Louis. I don't suppoM any
one about here has them."
"I know who has them," Louise re
plied, "but I don't know whether you
would want me to get them of him.
Paul has lota of books that he brought
from school with him, and he has often
proposed to let me have them.'
"Paul Markham?" Mary asked.
"Yes," said Louise; "he has the books
I need, and he has begged me to take
them."
"Louise," Mary said after awhile,
"you know how old Markham talked to
you that night you went to the store,
and you know we have had nothing to
do with them since, and you know that
we can't accept any favors from Paul."
Louise arose and going to the win
dow stood for a minute or so looking
out into the snow-covered prairku
Unconsciously she let a sigh escape her,
and, though it was soft and low, the
quick ears of her mother caught it
"Louise," Mary called, "don't' fret
about the books, for we shall try to get
them soon."
"It is not the books, mother," Louise
replied as she came and put her arms
about her mother's neck and laid her
face on her bosom. "I can wait for
them."
"Then what makes you sad, my
child?" and Mary stroked her daughter's
hair and tried to lift the bowed head.
"What b it you sigh for?"
"I I'm afraid you and pa do not like
Paul," and Louise buried her face
deeper on her mother's breast. "He b
so good and generous, and is all the
friend I have in the world aside from
you two, and I'm afraid you do not like
him."
Whv, I'm sure I have nothing
against him, child. He b a quiet, hon
est industrious young man, and if it
wasn't that he b a Markham 1 couldn t
say a word against him."
"Ho U a Markham, mother, but he is
not like his father. He is as generous
and kind as he can be, and I do wbh
you and pa would be friendly with him."
Mary began to have a suspicion oi
something underlying this uncommon
interest felt by Louise in Paul, and for
several minutes sho was undecided how
to proceed. Finally she took the girl's
head in her hands and lifted it up until
the face was opposite her own, and if
she had wanted any further evidence to
confirm the truth of her surmises, she
would have found it in the telltale
blushes that swept over the fair young
cheeks.
"Louise," she said, "don't keep any
secrets from me, but tell mo why you
take such a deep interest in Paul."
"Because don t think me silly, moth
er, for I can't help it. I love him."
These last words were spoken in a
faint whisper, but Mary understood
them, and drawing her child to her,
pressed her close to her bosom, and
thus they remained for a long time.
Mary was the first to break the silenee.
'Paul shall never receive anything
but the kindest treatment from me,"
she said, "and I know John will treat
him as a gentleman. Paul is a good
man, and if you love him he shall have
my love, too."
"Thank you, mamma, I knew you
would like him, for my sake, and you
will like him better when you know
how good and noble he is."
Then another long silence followed.
after which Mary said:
"Has Paul spoken to you of love,
Louise?"
"No, he never has. That is, not ex
actly."
"And are you sure you love him?"
"I know I love him, mamma, he is so
good and kind, and is all the friend
have asido from you and pa."
The mother smiled faintly at the
girl's earnestness and stroking the soft
brown hair gently, said:
"Louise, you aro young yet, a mere
child, and I'm afraid you do not know
your heart as well as you think. You
have a great liking for Paul as ono is
apt to havo for a good friend when
friends arc few. You admire his kind
ness of heart, for, poor child, you have
"LOUISE, YOU ABE YOUNG YET, A MERB
CHILD."
known littlo enough of such in your
life. You like and esteem Paul above
all others, but perhaps you may not
lore him. Love is a broad and a deep
thing, and you are too young to under
stand what it really is. , Go on thinking
of him as yon do, if you wish, and al
ways treat him with tho kindnest con
sideration, but do not go beyond that.
If ho speaks to you of love do not en
courage him, and make him no prom
ises. Tell him that you are young and
that I wish you to wait a year or two
longer before you enter into any com
pact affecting your whole future life.
But perhaps this is all unnecessary pre
caution. Ho has said nothing, and per
haps ho may not say anything for a
long time. It may be are you sure ho
loves you, Louise?"
"I know he does, mamma. I I can't
tell you how I know it but I do know
he loves me and some day he means to
ask me to bo his wife. I am sixteen
now, and in a year or two I shall be a
woman, end then ho will speak and
you will not object Will you?"
"No, not unless I have better rea
sons than I know at present But a
year or two is a long time, Louise, and
we need not consider now what we
will do then. It may not be necessary
for me to say aye or nay to Paul, for
you may see him differently then. You
may see some one else that may sup
plant him in your heart."
"Oh, mother, that b impossible! No
one can be to me what Paul is. I could
not be so ungrateful as to give him a
second place in my heart when he has
been so good to me."
The mother smiled again. She was
assured from these last words of her
'daughter, that Louise had mistaken Ijter
heart, and that what she? fell ta b? loVe
only cratitade and friendship.
She understood how easily one of
Louise's age, ami one placed as the was,
could deceive herself, and she could not
believe that the child knew her own
heart For a long time she was silent I
and for a time doubts, fear and misgiv
ings possessed her. She realized how
easily one of the girl's age and temper
ament could be deceived. She was in
experienced, and know ing nothing of
human nature, judged all mankind by
her own standard, and r:koned all
hearts like hers, pure, innocent and
honest Whether she really loved Paul
or not he was her IdoL and she looked
up to him as a paragon of perfection,
and was that confident and trustful that
she would not and could not doubt him
to anything.
Such thoughts as these ran through
the mother's mind, and she trembled
for the safety of her child. Then she
recalled all she knew of Paul. He
was a man of perfect character, and
in all the years she had known him he
had not been guilty of an ungentle
manly act Thb review of the young
man's past somewhat reassured her,
and she felt thankful that it was Paul
who held such an influence over her
daughter. She was far safer with him
than with most men.
So after considering the matter well,
Mary decided to say nor do nothing
to antagonize her daughter's senti
ments. Sho remembered only too viv
idly what the result of such action had
been in her own case, andshe knew that
young lovers could not be driven. Sho
realized that harsh measures would
only bring the lovers closer together,
and result in the very thing she was
anxious to avert a premature mar
riage. So at last taking Louise's hand
in her own, she said:
"Do as I have told you, Louise; treat
Paul as kindly as you can, and remem
ber him as your best friend, but do not
make him any promises. He knows
you are too young to think of marriage,
and he will not think it hard to leave
you free for a year or two longer. You
are free to keep company with him and
to love him, and when you are a year
older, if you want to promise to be his
wife you can do so with my consent. I
think I have offered fair terms, Louise,
and I hope you will consider them
such."
"I do, mamma, I do, and I am willing
to do as you say, and I know Taul will
be, too. I will never have any secrets
from you, and never go contrary to
your wishes. Paul and I will wait and
neither of us will think it hard, since
you wibh it, but nothing, mother, can
part us. Nothing, nothing."
Alas that Louisas fond hope was
doomed to be blasted, and that one un
dreamed of should come between her
and Paul come in a way, too, to bring
her the trying ordeal of her life.
CHAPTEB VI.
PAUL AND LOUISE.
Louise accepted Paul's books now
and with her mother's aid she studied
them well and faithfully. She had at
tended school sufficiently back east to
lay the foundation for a fair education,
and, being bright-minded and quick to
learn, she made excellent progress with
her utudics and bid fair to gain a good
education even under such unfavorable
circumstances.
Marv was a good scholar and well
adapted to the duties of teaching, and
sho never tired of aiding Lomse. Then
Paul came over quite frequently of
evenings and ho was not by any means
averse to giving such assistance as lay
in his power. In fact ho was so anxious
to teach Louise and pursued the task
with such diligence and earnestness
that it was apparent that he de
rived fully as much pleasure, if not
profit, from it as Louise did. Paul
was a most exemplary teacher, and
nothing was too difficult or too hard for
his efforts so long as it was for Louise's
good. He never wearied of explaining
dry, tough arithmetical problems or of
conjugating juicclcss verbs. But it
must be remembered that Paul's pupil
was a select one, and it is more than
probable that almost any young man,
feeling as ho did, wduld havo done
equally well, or at least labored with
fully as much zeal.
Louise not onlv progressed in her
studies, but she spent some very happy
evenings, and the remaining months of
winter passed off much more pleasantly
than she had anticipated. John and
Mary always welcomed Paul to their
house, and as they came to be better ac
quainted with him they grew to liking
him more and more. He was of u happy
dbposition, and ho had a way of mak
ing people forget their sorrows and
troubles, and often he chirked John up
out of a fit of downhcartedness and
brought a smile to his lips and a twinkle
of pleasure to his eyes. Paul made it a
point to take the cheerf ulest view of
tho future, and sometimes he went off
into tho wildest flights of fancy in
speaking of what he contemplated ac
complishing for himself. His dreams
were extravasant but dreaming them
was better than repining.
Paul had studies of bis own. He
was reading medical works and was
going to be a doctor. He had taken one
course at a medical college and hoped
to return the next fall to take another
if he was fortunate enough to rabe
crop on his claim and get money
to pay his way. lib solo possession
was the claim, and he could mortgage
that as Green had his, "on long time and
easy terms," but he hoped to have a home
ere long for himself and Louise, so he
hesitated to raise money in that way
Old Markham had money, but he was
THEY REAP FROM THE SAME BOOK.
opposed to Paul's plans, and he refused
to let him have a dollar on any kind of
terms.
"It's all blamed foolishness," Mark
ham Baid, "this idea of studying to be a
doctor. I never got no fool notion that
I was too eood to work for a honest
livin', an' by jinks, I ain't goin' to
furnish no money to help on anybody
that has got sich a notion. Paul kin
Study medicine if he wants to, buthe
"lis K
kin do it at hb own expense. I ain't
in on makin' gentlemen out o' fellers
thatnd better be at work till in the
oil. Not a bit I ain't n' by jinks I
won't do it Bather.".
But Paul's design was not to be
thwarted by that sort of talk, and be
resolved to work hb own way. He
planned to rabe a crop and get the
means to continue hb 6tudy that way
if possible, and, if the crop failed again,
he would mortgage hb land.
So the winter passed and the spring
came, and a soft warm haze lay
over all the endless stretch of prairie.
Again the poor settlers brought out
their plows and set to work to break
the soil and plant the crops, full of hope
and confidence. With the return of the
bright spring sunshine, came back the
grand expectations that ever buoy np
the hearts of honest struggling mor
tals, and the faces of the pioneers shed
the cloud of fear and doubtr that had
hung over them like a dark mantle.
John Green was among the more in
dustrious and persevering of all the
farmers in hb section. He began work
early, and every day he was in hb field
plowing and planting. He had a double
incentive to work, for hb family must
live and that debt on the farm must be
paid. He went at it cheerfully, and as
he trudged to and fro across the field in
the long furrows, singing blithely, no
one would have guessed what pangs of
trouble had racked hb soul all through
the long, tedious winter. Ho was not
of a brooding disposition, and even un
der the most trying circumstances he
could feel cheerful so long as there was
ever so dim a ray of light before him.
He had work to do now, and there was
a prospect of good results, so he felt
confident once more, and in the thought
of the bright future which his fancy.
painted he lost sight of the hardships of
the present
It is a long lane, Mary," he some
times said, "that has no turn, and I be
lieve in our case the turn is near at
hand. We have had a long siege of mis
fortunes, but I think we have about
reached the end of the list The pros
pects are flattering for an abundant
crop, and with the amount of stuff I
have in cultivation we only want a fair
yield to enable us to pay off the mort
gage and havo plenty lelt to title us
over tho year. We'll come out all right
yet, and within a short time be com
fortably fixed with a good home and
plenty of everything to live on. hy,
what a a little hard times, anyhow? it
don't amount to anything and is soon
over, and it don't hurt us any, but only
makes us appreciate our good fortunes
all the more when they do come. In
side of two years we can look back on
the past few months and laugh over
our privations and wonder what it was
we fretted about We'll come out all
right."
And John went off to his work sing
ing as happy as a King, ana wary
looked after him smilingly, equally as
confident as he.
Paul, too, applied himself to his work,
and as he plodded after tho plow ho
dreamed of the future, of the time when
he should be a doctor and have a cozy
little home with Louise for its mistress.
Ambition or love ought either to be suf
ficient to urge a man on to bis best en
deavors; but when they combine, r.S
they did in Paul's case, there is no tell
ing what strength they will put into a
man's arm nor what determination into
his heart
Thus it was that among all the set
tlers on that great level plain there
were none that devoted themselves
more, sedulously to work than John and
Paul,' and as the season advanced and
the spring months gave place to
those of summer, there were no fields in
all the settlement that looked moro
flourishing or promising than theirs.
And each of these men, sanguine na-
tured as they were, counted the victory
won, and each in his way made his
plans for the future and constructed in
numerable castles in the air.
Every Sunday now Paul came to
John Green's house, for it was distinct
ly understood all around that Paul and
Louise were to marry by and by,
though not a word relative to the mat
ter had passed between their parents.
Often tho young 'people read from the
same book, as they sat on a bench out
side the house, and on such occasion
they seemed to have a vast amount of
difficulty in making out the words, for
they brought their eyes close down to
tho page, their faces almost touching,
and the words they sometimes pro
nounced were not printed on the page
at all. But every person who has
courted knows how that is.
One day Paul and Louise went for a
stroll on the prairie. It was a clear,
calm Sabbath, such as summer Sab
baths usually are, and a mbty haze
danced about near the green earth.
They walked on and on, mila after
mile, and at last coming to the road
that ran over toward Paradise Park,
they turned into that and went on to
the east.
"About the 1st of September," Paul
was saying, "1 shall be ready to go
back to school. There will be a year
of separation, and it will seem long,
but when it is passed I will come back
and build up a home, and then we will
marry and settle down in it to live as
happy as can be."
Louise gave a little start, and after
casting a hurried glance at Paul, looked
down and blushed. Paul noticed her
manner, and thinking it due to embar
rassment went on:
"I have not forgotten, Louise, what
you told mo your mother said, and I do
not ask you to promise me anything
not until the year b out I am quite
satisfied without it, for I know that you
love me, and it requires no words to re
veal your heart to me, and no promise
to make me understand that you will bo
my wife."
"I do love you, Paul," Louise said,
"with all the fervor of my nature, and I
will never love you less. You are so
good and noble. But, Paul, you "
"What is it, Louise?" Taul asked.
"I I don't know," Louise replied.
"I suppose I am foolish, Paul, but I
can't help it I am so common and in
significant and you wiU be thrown
among so many women who are beauti
ful and accomplished."
For a moment Taul was unable to
understand the girl's words, but after a
time a light began to break on hb
mind, and with a light, cheerful laugh
he drew her closer to him and said:
"And so you think I will be so
blinded and dazzled by the beauty and
accomplislimentsot other women that I
shall forget my little girl away off out
here on the plains? Is that the bril
liant idea that has edged its way into
your mind?"
Loube walked on some distance be
fore she replied, half vexed at herself
for uttering words that showed she
doubted Paul's constancy, and half glad
that she had uttered them, as it gave him
wioppprtunity pjLre&sfierting hb love
for her. Louise was an uncommonly
sensible person, but the most sensible
girls love to play the coquette just a
little. Finally, after the lapse of a
minute or so, she looked up Into Paul's
face and said:
"Why shouldn't you, Paul?"
"Why shooldn 1 1 forget you?
"Yes."
"Then I will ask why should I?"
"Because, Paul, I am so insignificant
and small, and you can win the loveof
whom you please. I know there must
be grand ladies out in the world, and, as
compared with them, I am so common.
You cannot help but see the difference
and know how much more worthy of
your love they are than I."
At this point Paul placed hb hand
over her mouth and stopped her speech.
"There, you have gone far enough,"
he said, "and I will not hear another
word. I have done nothing to deserve
so poor an opinion from you, and yon
have no right to talk so. I would never
have such an opinion of you, Louise,
never."
Paul spoke like one very deeply hurt,
and in an instant Louise was all con
trition. She saw that she had wounded
Paul, and she would not hurt him for
the world. She was anxious to make
amends, but she was at a loss how
to proceed, and again they walked
on in silence. She thought of various
things to say, but none of them were
suited to the occasion, and so at last
FAB FROM HOME.
when the long silence was becoming
oppressive and she felt that something
must be said, sho decided to come out
boldly and beg his forgivenness. Lay
ing her hand on lib arm she looked
wbtfully into his face, and with lips
all a-tremble, said:
"Paul, I am a 6illy thing, and you
must not mind what I say. I do not
mean to doubt you, dear, good Paul, and
I want you to forgive me, will you,
Paul, and forget what I was foolish
enough to say?"
(Continued )
Trying to Arranje Adulteration to Salt
All but Ilogi.
An Illinois merchant who was taking
baking powder in bulk from a Chica
go firm called at headquarters the oth
er day to say that there was something
wrong with tho goods.
I don't think so," was tho reply;
"we make tho best article sold in the
west"
"I think wo ought to have a more
perfect understanding, " continued tha
dealer. "Now, then, you adulterate
before you send to me; then I adulte
rate bofora I ship; then the retailer
adulterates before he sella, and the
consumer can't bo blamod for growl,
ing. I want to see if we can't agree
on some schedule to be followed."
"What do you mean?"
, "Why, suppose you put in ten per
cent, of chalk; then I put in twenty
per cent of whiting; then the retailer
puts in thirty percent of flour. That
gives the consumer about forty per
cent of baking powder, and unless
he's a born hog he'll be perfectly sat
isfied. You see, if you adulterate
fifty per cent, on tho start and I adul
terate as much ruoio, and the retailer
adulterates as much moro as both to
gether, it's mighty hard for the con
sumer to tell whether he's investing
in baking powder or putty. We must
givo him something for his money, if
it's only chalk." National Weekly.
Tho Industrial Educator: The dol
lar of the gamblers is fast giving away
to the dollar of the people. Sherman,
in Ohio, admits that paper money is
tho best but it must be based on
bullion; but bullion, we say, is a com
modity. If paper money is based on
one commodity why not upon another?
Why not upon coton, wheat, etc.?
The hard-money men are thus fast
being driven from their fastnessns.
THE FARMER'S SIDE.
" Where we are, how we got here,
and the way out."
By Hon. W. A. PEFFER,
U. S. SENATOn rilOM KANSAS.
ISnjn, rlotU
Price, SI. 00.
Thoro is a demand for a comprehensive and
authoritative book which shall represent the
farmer, and set forth his condition, the influ
ences surroundinjt him, and plans nnd prospects
tor the future. Thif book lias been written by
Hon. W. A. Pcffer, who was elected to the
United States Senate from Kansas to succeed
Senator Inealls. The title is Tin Farmib's
Side, and this indicates tho purpose of the wort
In the earlier chapters, Senator Teflcr de
scribes the condition of tho farmer in various
parts of the country, ond compares it with the
condition of men in other caUinpjs. He carefully
examines the cost of labor, of living, the prices
ef crops, taxes, mortgages, and rates of Hiterest.
He tives elaborate tables showing tLo increase
of wealth in ruilroads, manufactures, banking,
and other forms of business, and lie compares
this with the earnings of the farmer, and also
wajre-workers in general. In a clear, forcible
style, with abundant citations of facts and fig
ures, the author tells how tlte faimer reached
his present unsatisfactory condition. Then fol
lows an elaborate discussion of " The Way out,"
which is the fullest and most authoritative pres
entation of the aims and views ef the 1'uTmcra'
Alliance that has been published, including full
discussions of the currency, tho questions of
interest and mortgiSMi railroads, the sale of
crops, and other matters of vital consequence.
This book is the only ono which attempts to
cover the whole ground, and it is unnecessary
to emphasize its value. It is a compendium of
the facts, figures, tmd suggestions which the
farmer ought to have at hand.
The Farmer's Sids has just tccn issued,
and makes a handsome and substantial book
of 280 pa?es. We have arranged with the pub
lisher.! for its sale to our readers at tho pub
lishers' price. The book may be obtained at
our oliloo, or we will forward copies to any
tddress, post-paid, on receipt of $1.00 per copy,
address
ALLIANCE PUB. Co., UacolB Neb.
NOTICE.
The next retmlar tueeticc of the
Lancaster Cotraty Farmers' Alliance
will be held in K. of L. hall im O
treet, Lincoln, on Friday December 4,
mi. ThU will be the last regular
dinata Alliance is the county should be
represented by a lull delegation, im
portant measures will be discussed, in-
11 i new nrtnAcAil nks nmja in Anniilitn.
tion of state Alliance as recommended
at last meeting of this Alliance.
Every delegate come and make thb
meeting one of special interest
. u. iiL LL, i res.
W. W. Keblix. Sec'y.
Sot ice U Coal Cussmers.
I have been able to complete arrang
mcnts whereby we are better ab.e
than we have been heretofore to make
satisfactory prices on all grades of
Canon City and Trinidad coal, as well
as the best grades of No' t hern Colo
rado coal, over any line ef road run
ning out of Denver or Pueblo. Their
capacity is sufficient to guaraatee
prompt shipment. I will keep pur
chasers posted on prices upon applica
tion. The lowest possible wholesale
rates are obtained. Cash must accom
pany all orders.
J. W. Hartley, State Agt,
Lincoln, Neb.
For the Germans.
The first and only work ever written
on currency reform in German b "Geld"
by Robert Schilling. It is a translation
and enlargement of his"SiIver question"
and sure to make converts The retail
price b '25 cents, but it will lie furnished
to reform organizations and agents at a
greatly reduced rate. A sample copy
will be sent for 15 cents. Address
Alliance Pub. Co..
20tf Lincoln, Neb.
IF YOU MEAN BUSINESS.
and Intend that our People' movement shall
triumph, you should rally to the supportof
THE LABOR WAVE,
owned, edited aud published by the Assembly
of Nebraska, Knlghta oi Labor, In the place
of all places where the truth, plainly and fear
lessly spokea will accoinpllah the most good,
Omaha. Subscribe now and put this paper on
a boh nd financial basis. Address all com
munications to Arson H. Bioklow, State
Secretary, 1;J1 Douglas St. Omaha. Neb.
"TRUE -: -NATIONALIST."
Progressive, fearless and Spicy.
SUB.SCKIPTION, - 1.00 PER YEAR.
Advocates the Initiative, the Referendum and the
Imevative Mitndata art tie bust meuns of proKreas
on tbelim-flof Human I.ltienv. Commends ita prin
ciples to m EN of all piilltlcal turtles. Corner
Beaver and Pearl Streets, New York city..
OKLAHOMA 1 1 1
Nearly 5X00,010 Acres soon to be opened to
Settlement.
ARE YOU INTERESTED?
Subscribe for
The King-Fisher News,
Br Shaw & ?haw.
Official Paper of King-Fisher Counly and city.
It is the leading People's Party paper In
Oklahoma Territory, and alse gives the gene
ral auu loutu uews pertaining 10 me opening
of the great Cheyenne and Arrapahoe country
hibo tne uneroicee scrip. H.mg-isber will
probably be the capital, and is one mile and a
half from the Cheyenne and Arrapahoe line
One year f 1; 6 ruon's 60c; 3 mon's 26c
Addregfl Shaw & Shaw,
2--H4 King-Fisher, Oklahoma.
$1,000.00 IN GASH.
DO YOU WANT IT?
We Issue a four pave, sixteen column edl-
tioB of The Witness every Friday at !15cts. a
year. This edition is a flrst class Alliance and
reopies party paper, ana contains a large car
toon every week.
We want agents everywhere and have ar
ranged to offer every agent and reform pa
per publisher cash premiums. Bend 2ct8. for
samples, blanks and our circular to agents
and publishers. Address, THE WITNESS,
23U Frankfort, Ky.
"STEEL WONDER" FENCE
MACHINE.
Huns easily weaves
rapidly. The best
steel machine made.
W b o l e s ale prices
where we have no
agents. Freight paid.
Ae-t'B wanted. Send
for circular to the " G oshen Fence M. Co.,
Mention this paper. GoBken, Ind
7. J. THOItP ft Go.,
Manufacturers of
Rubber Stamps, Seals,
Stencils, Badges and
Baggage Checks
Of livery Description. Established 188a
!WS S. Uth St.. MNCOIN. NWB
The most exquisite preparation for the
skin. Cures Chapped Hands,
Chafed or Scalded Skin.
Removes
Tan, Freckles
Burn.
and Sun-
Perfectly harmless,
after shaving.
Excellent to use
THE PERKINS WIND MILL.
NO DOUBT
A FACT
THE PEKKINS
Is the Llphtent Banning
Yv luu juui now Jaime,
BUY IT I TRY IT I
After 31 years fof suecess la the manurau
tcreof Wind Mills, we have lately made
complete chanfre In our mill, all ports being
built strongor and better proportioned and a
self lubricant bashing placed In all boxes to
save the purchaser from climbing high tow
ers tool lit. The Jame principal f self gov
erning retained. Every pari of the MUUj ful
ly WARRANTED, and wl.l run without mak
ing a noise. ,
The reputation gained by the Perkins Mil
In l-be past has induced some unscrupulous
persons to Imitate the mill and even to take
our K am K and apply It to an inferior mill. Be
not deceived, nose genuine unless stamped
as below. We manufacture both pumping
and geared mills, tanks pumps etc,, and gen
eral Wind Mill supplies. Good Agents want
ed, t-end for catalogue and prices. 4t-6m
PERKINS, WIND MILL AX CW.,
Mlshawaka, lad.
Mention Fariors' Alliance.
iiirQ
UseHowara's Gr&am or Eoses
mm
