AFITTE
BY §ARY PEVEREUX
•VTTH ILLUSTRATIONS BY DON C- WILSON
CCopyrrgAt, &02, Ay Brvnn, &k/ Company}
C4// tPrgtfs Jfexrmo'J
CHAPTER XXX.
Lafitte, while waiting for Baptistine
to return with implements for making
a grave, left Shapira to look after the
prisoner, and drew Barbe aside in or
der to question here more closely.
He was, after hearing what she had
to say, convinced that she was not
mistaken in her statement, although
there were no papers—nothing in the
way of further identification—found
upon the dead man.
Barbe acquiesced readily in Lafitte’s
decision that Rose de Cazeneau
should never be told the truth.
Great was the disgust of Shapira
and the two men who returned with
Baptistine when they found that It
was Lafitte's wish to bury the Eng
lishman, as well as Zeney. Even Bap
tist ine's black brows went up in a sur
prised disapproval which he wisely
refrained from putting into words.
The dead were soon laid in the
hastily prepared graves; the earth
was shoveled over them, and some
pieces of fallen trees placed above, to
guard against any disturbance from
denizens of the woods.
In the sunset-bathed clearing. Bap
tistine stood near Lafitte as the latter
gave Shapira some parting orders.
He was to take the English sailor to
the neighborhood of Lh Tetes des
Eaux, and let him find his way from
that point to his comrades.
It was comparatively early when La
fitte's party, weary from the excite
ment of the day and the fatigue of
their long march through the woods,
betook themselves gratefully to such
accommodations as Baptistine’s small
craft afforded for rest and sleep.
The night had closed in darkly as
the boat slipped away beneath the
starlight, made dimmer by the wall
ing forest lining either bank of the
bajou.
It was some time after this that
Lafitte, while picking his way along
the deck, a lighted lantern swinging
from his hand, came upon a cloaked
female figure sitting well astern upon
a coil of rope, and his foot struck
sharply against a small object, send
ing it swiftly toward her.
Holding his lantern lower to see
what this might be, the rays struck
across the white hand and wrist of
Rose de Cazeneau as she reached for
ward and picked up an exquisite
ivory fan, whose jeweled sticks
caught the light glimmeringly.
“Oh, it is Madame Riefet’s pet fan
—one Monsieur Laussat gave her in
uttered them, “No words may say how
I love you!”
It was as if an angel voice spoke to
her inner senses; and dropping the
fan into her lap, she covered her face
with her hands.
“Can you read it?” he whispered
once more, feeling that she was quiv
ering, as from a nervous chill.
"No,” she murmured faintly; but
adding, woman-like, and in a stronger
tone, “Tell me!”
He laughed, and rose to his feet.
The laugh came from his exulting
heart; and extending his hands to her,
he said, with a new decision of man
ner, “Come, little Rose, this is very
delightful, but not at all good for you.
What would Madame Riefet say to
me if she knew where you were at
this moment? I will take you below;
and then you must go to sleep, like a
I good child.”
He took her hand, and she permit
ted him to lead her down the narrow
stairway to the cabin below.
“Some day—and soon,” he said, as
he left her at the door of her little
stateroom. “I will tell you, if indeed
you know not already, what the fan
: said.”
There was a smile in his voice; and
something else, as well, that made
her lashes droop to touch the flushed
cheeks.
* * * * •
Madame Riefet found little to cavil
! at in the neat and comfortable, if
somewhat primitive arrangements at
Shell Island, which Lafitte and his
party reached the afternoon follow
ing their departure from La Tete des
Eaux.
Madame and the two girls were
quartered in his own cabin, the pre
vailing atmosphere of which was—
owing to the jumble of foreign fur
nishings that filled it—teak-wood and
lacquer.
Rose de Cazeneau was beside La
zalie, on one of the settees, with the
Spanish girl’s arm around her; and
the two were watching the flames, be
fore which sat Madame Riefet.
After the excitement of the pre
vious day, and not yet having recov
ered from their fatigue, the ladies
were disposed to be more silent than
usual; but presently Lazalie re
marked. glancing around her, “How
cheerful and pleasant it seems here!
it is almost as if Captain Jean had
known we were to come, and had pre
pared for our reception.”
“If so, then I wish he might have
“Can you read it?” he whispered.
place of one he broke, when she
danced with him at the governor's
ball.”
Her voice sank lower, and a flutter
ing, tike that made by the wings of a
startled wild bird, sounded in it.
Lafitte's hand had stolen over one
of hers, and now held it close.
“Why are you here, little Rose, and
not asleep, like the others, as you
ought to be? You must be very
tired.”
“1 was; but I could not sleep, and
came up here for some air."
She stopped abruptly, and he felt
the shiver that ran through her shoul
der when it touched his own.
The suppression made his voice
tremulou# as he asked, fcvcing a
laugh, and taking the fan f jn her
hand. “Do you understand tne lan
guage of the fan?”
“Somewhat,” she answered, wonder
ing at his apparent change of mood,
“l^azalie has told me of it.”
“Ah.” said Lafitte, with a touch of
what might have been either play
1 niness or sarcasm, “then you have
had an excellent teacher. Yet I doubt
if she ever evolved for you a sen
tence I should like you to read.”
“What is it?—let me try,” she re
plied, her thoughts—as he intended
they should be—diverted.
“I wonder if there are enough
sticks in this small bauble,” he con
tinued, cot seeming to have heard
her; and bending his face closer, he
counted them.
“One, two, three, four—yes, here
are the eight, and five to spare, for
all the fan is such a tiny one.”
Then, having placed it in her hand,
he added, speaking more softly,
“Tfcere arif th> eight sticks, little
Rose. Can you read what they say to
you from me?”
The girl sat with bended head, her
eyes fixed on the open fan she could
see hut indistinctly.
“Can you read it?” he whispered,
lowering his face to look into hers
and again possessing himself of her
hand
At the sound of his voice, with his
lips so close that his breath stirred
her hair—at the thrill of his touch—
at the mere realization of their being
alone together, a strange exultation
possessed the girl, lifting her spirit
from'its bodily enthrallment; and,
half-swooning, yet acutely sensible,
she read, as surely as though he had
known still more, so that my brother
would have prepared for our protec
tion at La Tete des Eaux, and thus
saved us from this wild flight,” said
Madame Riefet, as though determined
to be dissatisfied.
“For my own part. I am so thankful
to have escaped them that 1 cannot
muster up the slightest regret over
anything else,” declared I.azalie, who
had been thinking of that other flight
when she left the Barra de Hierro,
and escaped to New Orleans.
Mademoiselle de Cazeneau had. so
far as appearances went, nothing to
say upon the subject, which was nov.
dropped.
“I cannot understand. Capt. Lafitte,”
said Madame Riefet, with the air of
being somewhat annoyed at the faci
“how you came to have such a cor
rect opinion in regard to the possi
ble movements of the English—so
much clearer ideas than those of any
one else—even my brother.”
They were at the table, upon which
Scipio and h's coadjutors had placed
the preliminary courses of a most ap
petizing meal; and the old negro war
devoting much of his attention t<
Mademoiselle de Cazeneau. urging her
to let him put the various daintier
upon her plate.
”Jes’ vo' please try dese bit ol
feesh, lik Missy, wid a bit ob desc
hominy; an‘ after dat, a nice slice ob
ven’son,” he said coaxingly, evident
ly wishing to air his English, or else
supposing that she did not understand
French. “La Capitaine Lafitte. he say
ole Scipio done know bes’ in dey work
how cook eem.”
She smiled up into his face, but of
fered no objection to his helping her
and Lafitte, who was watching the
two, did not appear to have heard
Madame Riefet’s remark, w’hich was
now repeated rather sharply, as if
that lady were bent upon acquiring
the information she sought.
“I beg your pardon, madame,” he
said, starting slightly, and turning tc
her.
“I wiSh you to tell us how you hap
pened to entertain the opinion which
has resulted in such benefit to us—1
mean in regard to what the English
were going to do?”
Her tone was quite caustic, and her
sharp dark eyes regarded him specu
latively over .the rim of her sherry
glass.
“I had, for some time, felt a mis
giving that something of the sort was
likely to occur, and I therefore pre
pared for it; that was all, madame.”
He spoke hurriedly, and as if the
matter held little interest—while his
eyes went back to the violet ones now
looking at him.
“But, if you thought this, why was
it that others—my brother, for in
stance—did not?” Madame persisted,
putting down her glass, and taking
up her fork with a vigor suggestive
of an inclination to enforce an answer
by sticking the silver prongs into La
fitte, rather than into the juicy veni
son steak upon her plate.
“That, madame, is a matter I can
no more explain than can you your
self,” he replied smilingly, but scarce
ly glancing at her.
“But you warned Gen. La Roche, by
telling him what you thought,” de
clared Lazalie, “for he told us so,
himself.”
“Yes, senorita; I informed him of it
several weeks since.”
“And what did he say?” asked La
zalie; and Madame Riefet answered
with:
“You remember, Lazalie, that he,
like others, declared such a thing to
be impossible.”
“Gen. La Roche smiled at the idea,”
answered Lafitte, with a careless
shrug of his shoulders.
“Well, I, for one, am thankful for
your forethought, which has saved us
from a meeting with those hateful
Englishmen,” said Lazalie, with a
flash of her eyes that bespoke the in
heritance of her uncle's hatred of
that nation.
“Indeed, yes. Capt. Lafitte; all of
us have cause to feel most grateful to
you,” Madame now admitted, in a
more amiable tone. “But to think,”
she added, “of that cave being on the
plantation, and none of us knowing
anything about it?”
“Its secret was given to me some
years since oy an Indian chief,” said
Lafitte, and then, as if wishing to drop
the matter, asked Madame Riefet if
she wished any message taken to her
brother, as that night must find him
returning to New Orleans, in order to
report to Gen. Jackson.
"If you can go why may not we?”
she inquired with alacrity. “Surely,
Capt. Lafitte, you do not intend to go
off and leave us alone in this deso
late place?”
“Here is surely the safest place for
you at present, madame.” He smiled
encouragingly at Rose de Cazeneau,
who was looking perturbed, while La
zalie shot a scornful glance at Mad
ame, as if impatient at her show of
fear.
Madame, with a sigh, sought relief
in a silence that was acquiescing; and
she could not but admit to herself
that, in the present annoying predica
ment, the mysterious life of Bara
taria had proved to possess certain
advantages.
(To be continued.)
WHO SHALL BE CALLED SANE?
If It Were Left to Their Neighbors,
Few, Indeed.
Who is insane? asks Stephen Smith,
M. D., LL. D., in Leslie’s Magazine.
Xo one, or, every one, according as
we ask the question. Xo one in an
asylum will admit that he or she is
insane. Each in turn would resent
such an insinuattion. Certainly, no
cue out of an asylum will assent to
the charge of being insane. And yet,
l oth parties readily recognize the in
sanity of others. An intelligent old
lady, once the head of a ladies’ sem
inary, wished me to discharge her
from an asylum, alleging that all the
ratients in the hall believed her sane.
Seven women were privately asked
their opinions as to her sanity, and
nil declared that she was very insane,
while asserting their own sanity.
When informed of the result of the
test, the old lady accurately described
t lie special peculiarities of each of
her accusers. So, in every commu
i ity, the private gossip is much con
cerned about those who are called
‘ strange,” “peculiar.” “deranged,”
' unbalanced,” “light-headed.” “a-lit
tie-off.” “out-of-gear,” “wrong-in-the
i pner-story,” “cranks.” Few, if any,
escape for a lifetime, one or the other
u these epithets. Without, as with
in the asylum, no one recognizes his
r her own mental deviations, but
tcadily detects the mental aberrations
ji others.
Big Alaskan Bear.
Alaska is particularly rich in bears
nd most of them belong to a group
inewn as the Alaskan brown bears,
>f which the Kodiak bear is one. So
vine is his reputation that sportsmen
rom all over the world spend thou
-ands of dollars in order to add a
kin to their collection of trophies.
The weight of a full grown Kodiak
;ear is not known, although specimens
ave been killed that were estimated
.0 weigh between fifteen and eight
een hundred pounds, and some hunt
ers claim that they will go as high
as twenty-two hundred. While at Ko
diak several summers ago I measured
the skin of one of these huge animals
which stretched the tape nine and a
alf feet from the nose to the tail,
and ten and a half feet across the
-intstretched front paws. Mr. A. C.
^oss. who handles all of the brown
hands of the Alaskan Commercial
’ompany at Kodiak, told me that he
had seen skins that were three feet
onger.—J. Aider. Loring in Recrea
tion.
Odd Newspaper Names.
The names of American newspapers
ire a study in nomenclature. In Ar
kansas are the Buzz Saw and the
Back Log; California, the Condor, the
Wasp and the Tomahawk; Colorado,
fhe Rattler, and Yesterday and To
day; Iowa, the Postal Card, the Unit,
<he Nucleus and the Firebrand; Ken
tucky, the Salt River Tiger, the Push,
the Boomer; Missouri, the Missing
Link and the Cyclone; Nevada, the
Rustler. Oklahoma rejoices in the
Dinner Bell and the Plain People.
South Dakota has a Plain Talker. In
West Virginia is the Irrespresible.
Missouri has the Crank and the En
tering Wedge. Wyoming reads Bill
Balon’s Budget.
English Actors Form Union.
An effort is being made to form an
Actors’ Union in England. Every ac
tor and actress in the country is being
asked to join. Seymour Hicks and H.
B. Irving are at the head of the
movement.
• A dilemma.
(With Apologies to T-e R-1.)
A new-horn child is such a helpless thing—
Now why not get a puppy for a change.
To frisk and gambol with a leading-string
To somewhat limit his inquiring ranga
V
In this enlightened age no one as yet.
Though skilled in science, or of noted fame,
Fore-knows the profit of a child to come—
A pug -dog’s nose is always just the same.
*
What hours are spent in curling long straight hair, /
The while some favorite child dissolves in tears;— ’
The poodle's coat.needs no such weary care—
His kinky locks will last for years and years.
0
^ When in apartments of the present day,
T Where rooms are small, and twins a thing of dread,
T (The rules say that no children are allow-ed) „
a a good dachshund could sleep beneath the bed.
k
A bow-legged child is not a pleasing sight,
And people say, “Oh, what an ugly brat!"
But no one says such things about my dog,—
His crooked legs are meant to be like that.
—Frederic Colburn Clarke in New York Times.
HIP POCKET AND REVOLVER
Ex-Ranger Says Weapons Are Not
Carried There by Cowboys.
“I have just been reading one of
these books of Texas life, so-called,
said an ex-ranger, who has had many
dangerous experiences with “batl
men,” according to the San Antonio
Express. "The hero was a Texas
cowboy, who wore a pistol in his hip
pocket. Now, anybody with a grain of
sense would know that cowboys don’t
go into hip pockets for their shoot
ing arms. It's clumsy and unsafe.
“When a man needs his gun he
needs it bad and so he will keep it in
handy reach. He isn’t going to take
any chances of throwing his coat back
or having his pistol stick when he !
iries to pull it out. Besides, a pistol
big enough to do the work, with a bar
rel long enough to insure accuracy of
;im, wouldn't go into the hip pocket,
anyway.
"Some fellows carry theirs in their
holster, fixed on the right side of their
belts and they let the belt swing
loose, so that the pistol hangs well
town on the hip. That's well enough;
but I always preferred to carry mine
;n a holster under my left arm sus
pended from the shoulder and a little
to the front.
’ In this way there is no vulgar dis
dav of the weapon; yet when you
iced it, all you have to do is to let
our right hand fall carelessly, as if
ou were going to take a lead pencil
>ut of your vest pocket, and you are
eady for any kind of argument.”
N'en Who Planned Washington.
Major Pierre Charles Llnfant's body
as lain for eighty years in an un
narked grave on Green Hill, just
■utside the city of Washington, says
the New York Sun. It was L’lnfant's
genius that made Washington the
‘•City of Magnificent Distances.” His
from the government for his
labors was less than $2,000, and in
his later years he was dependent on
charity. Now it is proposed to have
the government erect a monument
over his grave, the owners of the sur
rounding land having declared their
willingness to grant a public way to
the grave and dedicate it as a mem
orial to the distinguished engineer.
All that congress is asked to appro
priate to build the monument is $500.
Thus the total reward of L'Infant will
be not to exceed $2,500 for laying out
the nation's capital, a sum that many
architects and engineers today would
not regard as sufficient compensation
for planning a twenty-five-acre coun
try place.
Good-by to the Chaperons.
With the development of the shop
ping luncheon, chaperonage—by day.
of course—appears to be going out of
fashion in New York. The metropol
itan lass always has been more inde
pendent in that respect than her prov
incial sisters, and today her emanci
pation from the sway of the duenna
is almost complete. One can see from
11 to 2 any fine day hundreds of young
women at tables in Sherry's, Del.’s. the
Breslin. the St. Regis or the Astor.
unattended, unless by companions of
their own average age. They take
their luncheon in seeming unconscious
ness of the fact that their grandmam
mas and even their mammas would
have been regard \ 1 as exceptionally
daring to dream of doing so in public
without chaperons. Perhaps the doom
of the duenna already is sounded for
every phase of social life.—New York
Press.
GHOST IN SALVATION ARMY
Barracks at Rhymney, South Wales,
Said to Be Haunted.
“Not for £100 would I again go
through the experience,” is the declar
ation of a man living at Rhymney,
South Wales, who, according to the
London Mail, with companions this
week set himself to lay a “ghost”
which is said to haunt the local sal
vation army barracks.
The specter takes the form of a tall,
stoutly built woman, clad in yellow,
with a drawn face of ghastly hue and
terrible gleaming eyes. The young
lady captain of the barracks has been
so unnerved that she will not enter
the place.
“I have not actually seen the spirit,
or whatever it may be,” she said, “but
a few months ago I heard a mysteri
ous rustling sound, as if some woman
were walking close past me. On
Wednesday night I distinctly felt an
arm placed across the bed.”
Her female colleague, a lieutenant,
has seen the specter and has in con
sequence received such a shock that
she is now prostrate. This woman
first saw the specter when she was
sweeping the stairs at the barracks.
Suddenly the tall woman in yellow
walked with noiseless steps through
the hall into the kitchen, where she
seemed to melt into thin air.
Spring.
Now is the seed-time: God alone.
Beyond our vision weak and dim.
Beholds the end of what is sown:
The harvest time is safe with Him.
Yet. un forgot ten where it lies.
Though seeming on the desert cast.
The seed of generous sacrifice
Shall rise with bloom and fruit at last.
And he who blesses most is blest:
For God and man shall own his worth
Who toils to leave as his bequest
An added beauty to the earth.
—John Greenleaf Whittier.
RED LINE A1ADE BY AN UNSPEAKABLE QUIRT
The quilt hung from the catch of
i "safety” pin on the fifth plank of
he east side of Evan's shack. In the
mtt of the quirt were sixty steel
ased bullets. This gave the butt se
urity. At the end of the quirt was
sinale strip of rawhide, thin, edged,
water-soaked, salted; it had been
torn one night when a cold rain came
and a stampede from the flank of a
maverick east of the Stinking river.
The wife of Evan was within the
shack at the making of the noon meal
of pancakes, canned peas and corn
from an outer world of industry tum
bled in. eggs addled by the thunder of
the plains. She was lonesome. A
man’s ionesomeness may express
itself through his love of liquor or his
hotness for worry, or his disregard for
his given word. A woman's lonesome
ness seeks companionship.
Sterling, on a pinto, was coming up
the Fawn trail. He leaned carelessly
forward in the Dutch-cradle saddle,
laughing to himself. The hinder hoofs
ot the pinto sent spurls of dust cir
cling to the grazing sheep far below.
Evan was with the sheep figuring the
cost of the “dip.” the price of the
wool, the worth of the pelts, the rate
of mutton—it is possible for a man to
reckon these beyond the value of a
I woman’s trust. Sterling knew this,
and smiled.
He reined in at the shack and call
ed. Evan’s wife came out and took
the hand he proffered. Between these
two nothing had ever passed, but at
this moment he was companionship—
and Evan still lingered with his
sheep—in the sheep was money.
Sterling bent far down from his
saddle-horn, and still holding her
hand whispered something, a devil
i may-care smile at his lips. The yel
lowish pink of a tired woman swept
over her face. Evan was yet with
I the sheep.
Now whether it be here or whether
it be there—what matters the place
to you or me—blood tells. Evan’s
wife had starved in the wilderness
about her, starved for the touch of a
Kindly hand, the ring of a voice that
cared, for the sight of hope itself—
the angel of the peaks and of the
green meadows over which the rain
had swept—but the blood of those
who never give up, who take faith
the cross of trust to the rough edge
of a rude cut grave, was in her.
Perhaps it came from the mother
mayhap from the father; perchance
from some royal ancestor of ages ago
Who knows?
The quirt leaped from its catch on
the “safety” pin on the fifth plank of
the east side of Evan’s shack and in
the hand of Evan’s wife it cut across
the smiling face of. Sterling, the pinto
rider, a long, blood-red, cruel mark
So he rode away blindly striking at
the red that filled his eyes and mark
ed his lips, and the woman, still alone
in the heart, went back to the sizzling
pan of cakes.
Evan, unknowing, yet halted below
with the sheep and the possible profits
in the pelts. H. I. C., in Chicago
Evening Post.
BEDROOM OF THE FUTURE.
When Human Life Is Guided by the
Scientists.
Mr. H. G. Wells, that dreamer of
fantastic dreams, has been imagining
for us the bedroom of the future. It
is to be a most wonderful and healthy
affair, and will require no labor to
keep it clean.
“There is no fireplace.” says Mr.
Wells, in the Fortnightly Review,
“and I am perplexed by that until I
find a thermometer beside six
switches on the wall. One switch
warms the floor, which is not carpet
ed, but covered by a substance like
soft oilcloth; one warms the mat
tress; and the others warm the wrall
in various degrees.
“There is a recess dressing-room,
equipped with a bath and all that is
neccessary to one's toilet; and the
water, one remarks, is warmed if
one desires it warm, by passing it
through an electrically-heated spiral
of tubing. A cake of soap drops out
of a store machine on the turn of a
handle, and when you have done with
It ?cu drop that and your soiled tow
els, and so forth, which also are giv
en you by machines, into a little box,
through the bottom of which they
drop at once, and sail down a smooth
shaft.
“The room has no corners to gath
er dirt, wTall meets floor with a gen
tle curve, and the apartment could
be swept out effectually by a few
strokes of a mechanical sweeper. You
are politely requested to turn a han
dle at the foot of your bed before
leaving the room, and forthwith the
frame turns up into a vertical posi
tion, and the bedclothes hang airing.
You stand at the doorway and realize
that there remains not a minute’s
work for anyone to do.”
Presumably you press another but
ton to have the bed remade.—An
swers.
Predicts Big Crops.
“Uncle Billy” Sumpter, who lives
near Madison, looks for big crops this
year. He bases his expectations on
the number 5. He says that big crops
were raised in '55, ’65, '75, ’85, 95, and
now it's 1905’s turn.—Kansas City
Journal. j
GOLD CATS AS BROOCHES.
New Style of Presents Made at Eng
lish Weddings.
Gold cats mounted as brooches were
the novel gifts to the attendants at a
recent English wedding. They were
however, for five children; had they
been for older girls there might have
seemed to be something a bit suspi
cious or ambiguous about such un
usual souvenirs. The little girls who
were the recipients of the cats, and
who officiated as bridesmaids, wore
frocks and accessories copied from
Vandyke’s paintings of the children
of Charles I, and were in long white
satin dresses, red shoes, wince stock
ings and wore quaint little lace caps
on their heads. Another feature of
this wedding was the large number of
children in scarlet and blue from the
Guards’ school. One of the little chil
dren in the bridal train was so tiny
that she was literally concealed be
hind the draperies of the long train,
and was revealed only when two larg
er girls bearing the train let it fall.—
New v«rk Times.
A VOICE FROM THE PULPIT.
Rev. Jacob D. Van Doren, of 57
Sixth street, Fond Du Lac, Wis., Pres
byterian clergyman, says: “I had at
lacKs oi money aisor
ders which kept me in
the house for days at
a time, unable to do
anything. What I suf
fered can hardly be
told. Complications
set in, the particulars
of which I will be
pleased to give in a
personal interview to
any one who requires
information. This I
can conscientiously
say, Doan’s Kidney
Pills caused a general
improvement in my
health. They brought great relief by
lessening the pain and correcting the
action of the kidney secretions.”
Doan's Kidney Pills for sale by all
dealers. Price, 50 cents. Foster-Mil
burn Co., Buffalo, N. Y.
Liberty and Education.
When Texas revolted from Mexico
its declaration of independence con
tained the following: “It (Mexico)
has failed to establish any public sys
tem of education, although possessed
of almost unlimited resources (the
public domain), and although It is an
axiom in political science that un
less a people are educated and en
lightened it is idle to expect the con
tinuance of civil liberty or the capa
city for self-government.”
. First Uses of Perfumery.
The use of perfumery among the
nations of antiquity was in the na
ture of respect and delicate homage.
It had sacred attributes and was a
“confection, after the art of the
apothecary, tempered together, pure
and holy.” Later, perfumery became
associated with luxurious indolence
and sensuous relaxations. Its con
tinued use to the present time is a
survival of the latest impulses.
Primitive Corn-Grinding Methods.
In the old Babylonian days, the
wheat and corn were crushed by hand
mills made from two circular flat
stones, the upper stone moving on a
fiat wooden pivot, and turned with a
wooden handle.
A Great Discovery.
Clayton, Tex., May 1st.— (Special)
—That a genuine cure for Diabetes
has been discovered is the opinion of
Mr. J. H. Bailey of this place. Speak
ing of the matter. Mr. Bailey says:
“I believe Dodd’s Kidney Pills i9
the best remedy for Diabetes and the
only one that has ev*r been discover
ed that will cure Diabetes.
“1 have a genuine case of Diabetes.
I have taken seven boxes of Dodd's
Kidney. Pills and am still taking them.
They have helped me so much that I
am now up and able to work some. I
believe that if I had conformed strict
ly to a Diabetes diet I would now have
been completely cured.”
Dodd's Kidney Pills have cured hun
dreds of cases of Diabetes and never
once failed. It is an old saying that
what will cure Diabetes will cure ar.v
form of Kidney Disease and that's
just exactly what Dodd’s Kidney Pills jJff
do. They cure all kidney disease?
from Backache to Bright's Disease.
John Q. Packhard. a rich Califomi
an. is having a $75,000 library build
ing erected for Marysville, Cal., be
cause he got his “start in life” there.
Protesting Against Rate Reduction.
Atlanta, Ga.—The recent proposi
t’on of J. Pope Brown Chairman of
the Georgia Railroad commission, to
reduce the passenger rate in Georgia
from three to two cents per mile was
protested against by the Brotherhood
of Locomotive Engineers, the Order
of Railway Conductors, and unions of
the blacksmiths, machinists and teleg
raphers, boilermakers, railway train
men, carpenters and joiners, clerks
and car men. These organizations em
ployed an attorney especially to rep
resent them, who urged that such a
reduction would work against the
prosperity of the state and lead to a
reduction in the number of railroad
employes, as well as of their wag^s.
The Travelers' Protective Association
also protested that a reduction, as
proposed, would result in fewer trains
and poorer service.
Oftentimes when a feller ask? for
a girl’s hand he gets the old man's
foot.
“The Arl iron clacks and How to
Reach Them” Is a nice folder with
maps and references to localities, ho
tels, boarding houses, mountains and
rivers in the great wilderness of
Northern New York known as the
Adirondack Mountains. If you visit
this region once, you will be sure to
go again. A copy of “The Adiron
dack Mountains and How to Reach
Them” will be mailed free, postpaid,
to any address, on receipt of a two
cent stamp, by George H. Daniels.
Gene-al Passenger Agent, Grand Cen
tral Station, New York.
_
What the London Lancet calls a
new departure in the preservation of
foods is a method of sterilizing it with
carbolic acid, invented by Randolph
Hemming.
»
PLEASANT
THE NEXT MORNING I FEEL BRIGHT AND NEW
AND MY COMPLEXION IS BETTER.
My doctor All it art* gently on the stomach, lirer
end kidney* end ie a pleasant .laxative. Ttie drink is
made from herbs, and is prepared for use ea easily aa
tan. Jtia nailed **l,aae’a Tea” or
LANE’S FAMILY MEDICINE
All druggists or by mail K eta. and 60 eta. Buy it to
dey. lane’s Family Medicine moves the
bowels ekHi day. Ia order to be healthy this is
■aeamaW- Add re**, O. F. Woodward. Le Roy, N.Y.
$100 Weekly Easily Made
writing health sad accident insurance ^experience un
necessary.’Write Bankers Accident Go..Des Motnaala.
Eyi Vattf
