s'
as>s FMOTM® Sr<® PEULDdDR
JIT CHARLES NORRIS BUTLER.
/9&f/)a/' of 7/x* 7?eren&\p of T^onre"yYTene/nenf 7/i^.efA/fJT&Mj,"£fc.
Copyright, 1905, by Charles Mori Is Butler.
CHAPTER XIII.
Lang Gets a Few Pointers Concerning i
the City.
% The emigrant train crossed the ford
^ at early sunrise. Bowie Bill, risen now
to the dignity of leader of the train,
though seemingly reckless as to the
danger that had surrounded him in
the past, dispatched a messenger in
advance of the party, who notified the
sub-posts of the city of the near ap
proach of the emigrant train, so that
in case of a second attack assistance
might be rendered if needed.
Lang was riding alongside one of the
schooners, thinking of his last night’s
adventure, when he was accosted by
Golden.
“Have I ever met you before this
trip?" Golden asked.
“Has Regan not told you who and
what I am?’’
“Sure. But howr did you know of
me and my mission?’’
“Don't you remember the German
kid who was confined in ‘the Tombs’
for the killing of Simeon Monroe, the
‘Varwick Street vag?” asked Louis in
surprise.
“Not the kid I made a few ‘passes'
at and told him I could get him out if
he wanted to escape?’’
“The same!”
0
“Yes, I remember you now,” said
Golden, as if relieved of some heavy
burden, “but what bothers me is how
you knew me.”
Lang saw that he was in for an ex
planation. whatever Golden's reason
Ut desiring it, and was guarded in his
replies. “Since I became a man. and
have had a little experience in several
secret societies. I came to the con
clusion that the sigrs that you made
to me had some deep meaning. Your
power and influence which I knew
you would have—powers to free me
from the ‘Tombs,’ made me often de
sire to meet you.”
“You did not seem very enthusiastic
‘ Pause before it is too late. This is
your last chance to escape from the
power of the octopus! Some large
city is the place for you—you will
live and die within the city’s walls
You do not know what thankless mas
ters you are tying yourself to. They,
knowing your utter helplessness, will
use you to their own ends. You do
not deserve so vile a fate! Turn
back!”
Louis put his hands upon Golden’s
shoulder. The old man’s evident de
sire to do the lad a favor, for a brief
moment unnerved the youth. “Golden,
I thank you for your words—it shows
me that like myself, you are not whol
ly bad. You are true to your friends!
But I am resolved to go on. My con
dition can be no worse than it has
been—than it is now. It has been the
dream of my life to see the inside of
the convict city. What I have done to
gain my revenge I feel will place me
in the power of a most desperate man.
Nowhere but with you will I be safe
from Denver. I am avenged—let the
penalty be what it may, I must go
on!”
“So be it,” said Golden. “I have done
mv duty as a man. Your fate is upon
your own head!”
“I Will remember your expression of
friendship,” said Louis.
Golden seemed to be debating with
himself. At last his mind seemed to
become settled. He spoke now in a
more natural tone of voice. “We
were talking of Regan—‘what damage
could one man do in the community?'
Much! A well educated and really
brave man could do much. It has
been prophesied by Magic Moll, the
fortune teller, that the town will be
destroyed by one man; that is through
the influence of one man the towm
would be divided against itself and ‘a
house divided against itself,’ you
know, is bound to fall!”
“I think you exaggerate.” said Louis.
But there was a strange gleam in his
“Once more I say,” and Golden's voice was husky with excitement. “Pause
before it is too late.”
over my offer in the first place,” the
man replied, as if a little bit piqued.
“Just because I refused your help.”
retorted Louis. He felt proud of his
independence. “You were a little bit
late. I had other plans. You would
have aided me to escape, no doubt;
possibly I would have been re-cap
tured. At that time I knew that my
father and brother had succeeded in
bribing one of the jurors at consid
erable less cost than what your offer
amounted to. If this had failed I
would have been glad to have accept
ed your offer. I became a free man,
in one sense of the word, which was
to my mind, more satisfactory.”
"And now have been revenged on
Denver, the detective?”
“Yes. he was the only man whose
evidence seemed to carry weight in
my case. He has paid dearly for his
part in the business.”
“And you now are truly a criminal
through that?”
“What do I care for that? I am
avenged! I spent a year of my life
in jail; Denver has toiled years for
the fortune I have robbed him of. I
am young; he is old. and the result is,
he will die in poverty, while I will live
to enjoy his weath.”
"Do you know what kind of a place
you are going to?”
“I can’t say that I do.” Lang re
frained from committing himself.
“What you do know you have been
told by Regan?” suavely queried Gold
en.
“Regan has told me nothing!” said
Louis calmly. “What little I do know
I have guessed.”
"That will do to tell,” said Golden,
annoyed. “I don't like Regan—I think
he has a loose tongue in his head; and
I don’t like him for it. I am afraid
he will flo more harm than good in the
society.”
"In what way?” asked Lang, as if
but slightly interested, while in truth
the question was a burning one to
him.
“I think he would betray us if he
got the chance!”
"In what way could one man do
damage to the ‘Community’ after you
once got him inside the ‘circle,’ as
you call it?” The tone was one of
surprised incredulity.
“Much,” was Golden’s candid reply.
“But that is not here or thefe. Let
us talk of yourself. I don’t think that
you are criminal enough to become
happy In the Convict City. I rather
like you, I.ang, and I speak now for
your own good. You have in 5Tour pos
session ten thousand dollars, the price
of your admission; hesitate, express
a desire, and I will put you on the
back trail with a swift horse under
you! Your decision?”
This was no time for Louis to hesi
tate. He felt it.
t “I am resolved to proceed,” he re
plied firmly.
“Once more I say,” and Golden’s
voIcb was huskv with excitement.
eyes, and his breast filled with hope, j
“I cannot credit Regan with the :
power you seem to endow him.”
“I am sorry Regan has been told the
secrets of the order. It is true he
helped me from Joliet, but I do not
like him. What I know of him is not
to his credit.”
Lang thought it best now to change
his tactics a little. How did he Know
but what Regan, after all, was a
iriead. A fellow conspirator in this
massive game of chance? “I will ad
mit that it was through Regan that I
learned of the existence of the city,”
said Louis. “But it was not a volun
tary admission on his part, as you hint.
Jealousy and drink carries Regan
away. It was because he was drunk
and sore at Denver that he gave away
the facts of your escape. For a year
or more I have been laying a trap to
get the best of Denver, and during
that time I became (while not a friend
of Jack’s) possessed of several of his
secrets. I knew him to be ‘crooked,’
having ‘split’ several pots with cracks
men of note. If he had been ‘straight
goods’ he would never have helped me
rob the Madison bank. To him I owe
that much. I think he is all right!”
Golden listened very patiently to
Lang, then said:
“You have again showed yourself a
man, in the face of my talk, to take
his part. You are after my style. I
would risk my life to help a friend,
and if you will permit it, I will be a
friend to you!”
“I would be honored!” asserted
Louis.
‘‘It was just such an experience as
yours which resulted in making me
what I am—an outcast. When about
13 years of age my mother died; it is
well she did! I was left quite alone,
as I never had the care of a father.
I turned new’Sboy, bootblack and gen
eral street gamin. Poverty drove me
to crime. For food I broke into a
bakery shop and was caught in the
act. Of a revengeful nature, I re
solved to be avenged upon the man
who had me punished, and was as
bitter against the unthinking judge,
whom I blame for not acquitting me.
The baker was burned out, and I was
‘sent up’ some years for incendiarism.
The judge’s residence was robbed. I
made him a poor man. I wished to
flee from justice, but I knew of no
safe place to go. It was then I thought
of founding a refuge for just such
people as myself. It was a child of my
brain, but the real founder of the city
as it now stands, was an outlaw by
the name of Mitchel, ‘the teacher,* he
was called, because he was a learned
man and had at one time plied this
vocation.
“The town Is naturally protected
and lies at the foot of three moun
tains, hard of entrance. Mitchell was
perfectly at home in this district and
it was an easy matter to surround
himself with a band of desperate fol
- - ------
lowers. It took three years to start,
and fully ten years to get the village
into running order, and this only by
the aid of a party of outcast Mor
mons. In 1880 it had a population of
seven hundred, of which number only
fifty were women. Under the leader
ship of a doctor by the name of Schil
ler the town has reached a population
of fully nineteen hundred, with fully
four hundred women, and they are on
the increase.
‘‘The government of the city is not
what may be termed an absolute mon
archy. We have a king, but his will
is not absolute. He rules according
to law, and is amenable to the law.
Marriage is an honorable state. Here
a man's honor is everything, strange
as it may seem. In the matter of
punishment, the death penalty pre
dominates, but in lather a queer way.
Two persons who have forfeited their
right to life and liberty fight to the
death, and the survivor become free
again. This works well. We have
more law abiding citizens in the city
to the square inch than any one place
in the ‘states.’ When once you enter
the city you will be expected to work.
There are many occupations, mostly
police and guard duty goes round, in
trades that have been learned in jail;
other positions trading takes place.
If you are assigned to a certain duty
that is displeasing to you. you can
trade or buy a substitute.
“I am afraid I tire you, Lang, so will
end my explantion by saying to you
—traitors and spies are given no
chance for life!”
“What do you mean?” demanded
Lang, who was a little taken off his
guard at the abrupt ending of Gold
en’s conversation.
“I mean nothing,” very calmly re
plied Golden. “I only wish to w-arn
you against taking a false step. Don’t
let your better nature get the best of
you here—suspicion is sometimes as
much to be dreaded as actual facts.”
“I am at a loss to understand you,
Golden. I am no hypocrite; I don’t
want to appear anything else than I
am. Of course you know I am not
hardened in crime—but, pardon me, I
am not a traitor!”
“I believe you!” said Golden, sober
ly. “But I cannot help speaking. I
feel that I am returning here to die,
and I must make a confidant of some
body. Thus far I have been testing
you; you have stood the test well;
there now remains nothing for me to
do but bring you into the city.”
“Have no fear, Golden, that I shall
bring discredit upon you! Remember
this of me, whether I am an honest
man or not—as you choose to call me
—I will never go back upon a friend!”
“To-morrow,” said Golden, as if
deeply thinking, “to show you that I
trust you, I shall give you a secret!”
To-morrow brings many changes.
(To be continued.)
CURIOUS DEEP SEA VISION.
Cephalopods Photographed by Their
Own Light in Some Cases.
A French writer in a scientific
magazine tells of the great ocean
depths of 28.000 to 30,000 feet, the
temperature tending toward zero, the
perpetual darkness reigning below
depths of about 1.280 feet. At that
level plants, deprived of light, can
not exist. The animal life must be
carnivorous. The organs of sigr.t not
being used, have become atrophied
and disappeared.
Yet there is light even in that sight
less world. A German exploring
ship found a fish with enormous eyes
at a depth of 6,400 feet. Phosphores
cence is common in these hollows of
the sea. Sometimes special organs
flash light. Sometimes the phosphor
escence is caused by a mucous secre
tion on the surface of the animal.
The crustacean chrysophorus has not
only huge eyes, but luminous organs,
including what are, in effect, a re
flector and a lens.
Certain cephalopods have actually
been photographed by their own light.
The luminous organs attached to the
eyes allow the animal to see its prey.
The other luminous organs may per
haps be a lure to the prey. The deep
sea life that swims sees. The eye
less creatures are sedentary and do
not need to see. Thus, even in that
vast darkness there is sufficiency of
light.—Everybody’s Magazine.
Booth and the Brass Monkey.
Years ago, about the time Hoyt’s “A
Brass Monkey” wfas attracting theater
goers, a young actor who had made a
hit with his part in this show hap
pened to meet Edwin Booth taking his
morning stroll down Tremont street,
in Boston.
Mustering up courage and “feeling
his part,” the young man decided to
speak to the great actor. What fol
lowed will be appreciated by those
who knew' Booth and his tempera
ment.
“Good morning, Mr. Booth,” the
young man said.
Booth excused himself for not rec
ollecting him, and the young man
said: “Don’t you know me? Why, I
play the Brass Monkey.”
Booth, with a look of scorn, re
torted: “Well, brass monkeys are
scarce,” and passed on.
Half and Half.
They were sitting around a table in
the cardroom of the officers’ club at
Fort Sheridan, several army men and
a civilian guest, whose fondness for
the favorite army drink. Scotch and
soda, was sufficient passport to the
inner circle. The talk had drifted
through Philippine reminiscences, the
last hop, scores on the range, the
current gossip of the post and finally
settled upon ancestry.
“Well,” said the civilian guest, "I
never thought that ancestry counts
for much, but I admit that I am proud
of the fact that I am half Scotch.”
“And the other half soda?” came
the quick query from the speaker’s
vis-a-vis, an artillery lieutenant.
Then somebody smiled and It was
Scotch and soda all around again.
Leipsic Book Trade.
In the city of Leipsic, the head
quarters of the German book publish
ing trade, there are 2,916 firms filling
orders, and its Book Publishers’ Ex
change has 3,240 members. Leipsic
has not only one of the most cele
brated universities in Germany, but
as a city is renowned for its music
schools and concerts.
Regular Trade in Titles
Nearly 2,000 Englishmen have been
ennobled by Rome since 1870. Vatican
titles, as they are called, can always
be purchased, and any individual on
payment of the sum of $20,000 is en
titled to be addressed as “your grace.”
A count’s title generally costs about
$5,000, and that of a baron can be
had for $4,000.
Ladies, too, have bought titles for
as small a sum as $750. Such titles
when new are generally regarded with
grave suspicion, but in the third gen
eration everyone has forgotten the
way the title was obtained.
Every day at Heralds’ college hun
dreds of individuals are to be found
hunting for a distinguished ancestor,
and they are willing to pay large
sums to anyone who can manufacture
a pedigree for them. Anything from
50 cents to $50,000 can be spent in
tracing ancestors.
About five years ago an Islington
blacksmith, whose weekly wage until
then had never exceeded $15, was left
$50,000. Somebody induced him to
have his pedigree traced. One day he
called at Heralds’ college, bringing
his son, a smart lad of about 18, with
him.
Together they began a search and
engaged a heraldry expert to help
them. In less than a couple of days
it was proved beyond doubt that th«
knight of the anvil was actually de
scended from Hugh Fitzwilliam, a
mercenary who came over with Wil
liam the Conqueror.
Members of the British peerage, as
a rule, exhibit but a languid interest
in the subject of their ancestors. On
the other hand, an individual whose
information concerning his family
goes no farther back than his own
father believes he will be a vastly
superior person if he can prove that
one of his ancestors was a Viking
pirate, a Danish filibuster, a Saxon
thane or a Norman freebooter.
The editor of “Dod’s Peerage” states
that there are fifty-five baronets, who
are accepted as such, who could not
make their claims good to their titles.
The home secretary has stated in the
House of Commons that there Is no
remedy against people who assume
titles.
A rich Mr. Jones finds that King
John or some other monarch made a
Jones a baronet during his reign. The
title expired a century later. The 1904
Jones claims descent from the 13th
century Jones and annexes the title.
As Sir 1904 Jones lives quietly in the
country few people think of question
ing the claim.—Stray Stories.
Yielded Life for Mother
To keep his mother from starving,
13-year-old Abraham Koudos denied
himself food for a week and himself
died of starvation. The New York
World tells the story.
Mrs. Koudos is nearly famished.
She sat nursing an infant in the
wretched room in which her son died,
grief-stricken at her loss. Her cheeks
are so thin that the outline of her
teeth can be seen through them, and
her eyes are sunken in her head. She
has had little more than a crust of
bread for a week.
Mrs. Koudos had searched in vain
for work to do; then Abraham started
in to sell newspapers for a living.
“You will never be in want now,
mother,” said he, “for I shall take
care of you. I will earn a living for
you and baby Pearl, just as father
would have done.”
Abraham was not a success as a
newsboy. The business was new to
him, and he did not know where to
go to sell his papers. He made some
30 cents a day, however, and with this
he bought food for his mother. He
ate no luncheon during the day and
hurried home early in the evening to
give his mother the day’s profits.
Then he would eat just enough food
to take the keen edge off his hunger.
Mrs. Koudos realized that the boy
was denying himself and tried to get
him to eat more, but he always in
sisted that he had enough. Mrs. Kou
dos soon began to eat less herself, so
that Abraham would take more nour
ishment. She could not stand this
hardship, for with a nursing baby she
needed healthful food. Soon she be
gan to grow thin and was too weak to
seek employment.
A week ago Abraham was taken so
ill he could not sell papers. Mrs. Kou
dos, with no money to buy medicines,
did not know- what to do. Neighbors
sent some tea and a loaf of bread.
They did not know to what extremes
the little family had been driven.
“Don’t cry, mother,” he said. “I
will get well soon and make a living
for us. I have only got a headache.”
Mrs. Koudos watched her son until
he fell asleep. Then she lay down be
side him and soon went to sleep, with
her baby in her arms. When she
awoke in the middle of the night the
boy was dying.
He Redeemed the Button
A resident of Melrose, Mass., was
talking regretfully about the late Mrs.
Mary A. Livermore.
“She was a shrewd woman,” he
said. “With her great usefulness, with
her singular devotion to her sisters’
cause, there was mixed a leaven of
worldly wisdom that often served her
well. In many a political combat she
worsted her ringster opponents with
tricks quite as rlngster-like as their
own.
“She once told me, laughing, that
she had been converted to this meth
od of fighting the devil with his own
diabolical weapons through the exam
ple of an old friend of hers, a clergy
man.
“He, with a solemn air, rose in the
pulpit on a Sunday morning immedi
ately after the collection had been ta
ken up, and said:
44 ‘A button has been found in the
offering. Only one individual in the
congregation could have been guilty of
such an old and shabby trick, and I
shall expect this same person, at the
end of the service, to replace the but
ton with a coin.’
“The minister paused. He glanced
down w'rathfully upon his flock. Then
he smoothed out his countenance and
began to preach.
“Well, when church left out, a rich
old man, the leading grocer, took the
minister aside, and said humbly:
“ ‘Excuse me, sir, I put the button
on the plate. I am sorry. It must
have been a mistake. Here is a dime
in its place.”
“The minister took the dime, and
thanked the grocer sternly and sus
piciously.
“ ‘But how did you know, sir,’ said
the rich man, ‘that it was me that
gave the button?’
“The minister smiled.
“ ‘Oh, I didn't know,’ he answered.
“ ‘But you said you did,’ exclaimed
the grocer, indignant, reproachful.
“ ‘Oh, no, I didn’t.’
“ ‘Yes, you did. You said only one
person could have done it.’
“ ‘Precisely,’ the minister agreed.
‘Precisely. It is hardly probable that
two persons could have put one but
ton on the plate.’ ”
Apache Knew Good Thing
With the Apaches, a really brave
man does not stand as high in public
estimation as does a clever thief. His
chief excellence, from an Apache,
standpoint, lies in his ability to outwit
the white man.
I was sitting, says Mr. Cremony, in
front of my tent, writing a letter,
when a young Apache came up and
asked what I was doing. I replied I
was talking to my friend in Washing
ton.
“How can you talk to your friend so
far away?”
“When an Apache wishes to talk of
speed to a distant friend,” I answered,
“he sends him a picture of a bird; if
he talks of something sweet he sends
a picture of a flower. Instead of pic
tures the white man has these little
signs' which all understand.”
The Indian took up the letter and
scrutinized it carefully.
“I do not believe you,” he said. “You
try to make a fool of me. These little
signs are all alike.”
“I will give you proof. I will write
on this little piece of paper that the
butler is to give you some tobacco.
Go take it to the store and see if I
do not speak the truth.”
The Indian snatched the paper and
was off. A few moments later I saw
him slowly coming toward me, a piece
of tobacco in his hand and a look of
bewilderment on his face. Suddenly
his expression changed to satisfaction
and he hurried forward.
“Did you get the tobacco?” I askpd.
“Yes, but I do not believe you. You
and he had an understanding before so
that you might deceive me. Now if
you will write some more of those lit
tle signs on paper, telling the sutler to
give me much more tobacco, and if he
does, then w ill I believe you.”
But the Indian’s ruse failed. I did
not “rise” to the occasion.—Youth’s
Companion.
Things ’at Mother Knows
It's strange how much my mother knows
Bout naughty things I do.
And every night when I’m In bed
She tells 'em. Just as true!
She’s got some way of finding out
That's secret, I suppose.
But ’t makes a feller awful shamed—
The things his mother knows.
Like how I hooked some cake one night
And took it up to bed.
And ate some 'fore I went to sleep.
Next night my mother said
I s'prised her by the naughty things I
almost always do.
And talked about bad dreams and crumbs,
I don’t seu how she knew!
And when I'm sent to brush my teeth
And hurried most to death ,
I souse my tongue with “Noyoudont’*
So she can smell my breath.
Then hurry off. She calls me back
And looks me through and through
And says: “Now, go and brush your
teeth.”
I don’t see how she knew!
And when I'm in an awful rush
And cut dessert some day,
Ma says that I may be excused
Then when she looks away
I throw my napkin on the floor
As other fellers do.
She calls me back to fold It up—
I don’t see how she knew!
And once when I played postman
And out of mother's drawer
Took lots of letters, notes and things
When not a person saw.
And left them at the neighbors’ doom
As other postmans do.
She had to go and find it out!
I don't see how she knew!
Sometimes she spanks me good and hard.
Sometimes I'm sent to bed.
But offenest I get an awful
• Talkin’ to instead.
So I’ve about made up my mind
The kind of things to do
Are those it wouldn’t make me ’shamed
To know my mother knew.
—Mrs. N. C. Stiles.
Judge Ready with Compliments.
Judge Whitman is the only bachelor
on the board of city magistrates in
New York. He was called upon one
forenoon to marry a couple from Phil
adelphia. The bride handed him a
nandsome rose from her bouquet and
said: “I want you to take it home to
your wife." “I shall be delighted to
accept it," said his honor, “but can’t |
I wear it myself? I have no wife.”
The bride looked at him with com
passion. “That’s too bad,” she said,
“and you so good-looking.” Then she
turned to him suddenly and said:
“Won't you come over to Philadelphia
and let me introduce you to my sis
ter?” “If she looks like you,” re
sponded the judge with a bow, “I shaU
be tempted to take the next train."
FREE LAND FOR SETTLERS
Western Canada To-Day the Country of Oppor
tunity for Millions
He would have been called a dream
er of the most imaginative class who,
thirty-five years ago, when the North
west country became a possession of
Canada, prophesied the present pros
perity in the lapse of so short a period
of time. Three transcontinental rail
ways have been financed through on
the ample assurance there is business
in the west to warrant their construc
tion, and resources to liquidate the
consequent Indebtedness.
Manitoba in the eastern portion of
the country was created a province a
year after the purchase from the Hud
son Bay Company in 1870. In 1882,
the western country was tapped by
the extended main line of the C. P. R.
That year also territorial government
was established, the remaining out
lying country being converted into
four territories—Alberta, Assiniboia,
Saskatchewan and Athabasca—with a
central government for all at Regina.
The few thousand people of those
days have grown into the half million
of to-day.
Let us now note some of the evi
ing on to its confines to bring it to
the front as a field for most extensive
and profitable settlement.
The whole country embraces an
area of over 385,000,000 acres and de
ducting water and broken land there
is plenty of wheat growing territory
to produce twenty times over the
requirements of Great Britain.
As wheat can be grown at $7.50 per
acre with wages to the men doing
their own work besides, and as year
in and year out the yield and price
are twenty bushels at 60 cents, the
profits are $4.50 per acre.
As live stock doubles every three
years and grows like wheat while the
farmer is sleeping, we expect that this
will always be one of the leading feat
ures of the agricultural industry. As
the Pacific coast or warm winds melt
the snow in Alberta almost as rapidly
as it falls, the herds of live stock
live out on the open prairie the entire
year through and are in good condi
tion every spring. The native grasses
are highly nutritious and retain their
qualities the whole winter through
£ /-*
Reaping Record Crop at Battleford.
denees of advancement. The first
bushel of wheat was shipped in 1882, j
in fact the first shipment from Mani
toba, merely as a sample, was made
in 1877. In 1904 there were under all
crops, excepting hay, 1,575,000 acres
in the western provinces, producing
17,250,350 bushels of wheat, 18,250,640
bushels of oats, and 2,350,420 bushels
of barley, realizing a total of about
$18,500,000 for the farmers.
In Manitoba there were grown in
1904 41,600,000 bushels of wheat and
other farm products in proportion.
The first mile of railway was built in
the country in 1880, and to-day there
are over 6,000 miles of road in opera
tion, aud further extensions are going
ahead as fast as men and money can
build them. There are two trunk
lines in the country, the C. P. R. and
the Canadian Northern, with the
Grand Trunk commencing its trans
continental line. In addition to these
trunk Hues, all systems are extending
branches to all sections where there
are settlements to patronize them.
The grain elevator development is
another assurance of the wonderful
expansion of the country, the one
fourth of the whole area, or about 95.
000,000 acres of the country traversed
by railways being now fairly supplied
by elevators. In all there are 1.015
of them in the country with a combin
ed capacity of 27,683,000 bushels and
erected at a cost of over $55,000,000.
In addition to these, elevators at the
head of the lakes have storage capac
ity of 18,200,000. Fourteen years ago
the entire storage capacity of the
elevators was 7,628,000 bushels, today
it is 41,600,000 aud increasing yearly
from five to ten million bushels.
What the settlement of the country
will be in the next ten years may
well be imagined from the fact that
last year the immigration was over
133,00t> souls.
There are those who believe the
grain-producing area of the country
must be limited, but results tell a
making winter feed as inexpensive as
summer pasturage.
As $2,835,516 worth o£ live stock
was marketed in that country in six
months of last year an idea may be
formed of the proportions it may be
led to attain when the country be
comes fully settled up.
Dairying is the third leading busi
ness of the Northwest farmer, and
may, like the others be developed
while the farmer is sleeping. It is
found that on account of the cost of
farm help, and to avert the expense of
erecting suitable buildings for the
purpose, the co-operati,e system is
decidedly the best. Under it the en
tire management is in the hands of
the government under expert opera
tives, though control of sales, etc.,
rests with the patrons. The farmers
simply deliver their milk or cream,
usually the latter, at the dairies, re
ceive monthly advances, and bal
ances of proceeds of sales at the close
of the year.
The schools are free and non-denoml
national—rational. There is no tax for
attendance, the government defrays
the greater part of the cost of sup
port of a highly certificated staff of
teachers. There are schools in all
country districts where there are a
dozen pupils to attend them and the
tax is rarely more than $4 a year on
every quarter section. As each prov
ince—Alberta and Saskatchewan—un
der the new provincial autonomy will
receive at the start from the Federal
government $1,100,000 a year, there
will be but very inconsiderable taxa
tion for any and all provincial pur
poses.
Fuel Is the bugbear of many of the
prairie countries. In Western Canada,
however, there are but few districts
without an ample supply of timber,
and as coal of the best quality is
everywhere present no farmer being
more than 200 miles distant from a
mine, and the price never more than
$4.50 per ton to him at his door, it is
Threshing No. 1 Hard Wheat in Western Canada.
different story. In the northern Peace
River country, 900 miles north of the
International boundary, wheat is
grown every year 62 to 65 lbs. to the
bushel, from 20 to 30 bushels to the
acre, and matures in 107 days from
sowing. The length of day and there
fore the greater amount of summer
heat in the 24 hours fully compensate
for the disadvantages of latitude. As
there are already thrifty settlements,
with their grist mills, large fields of
grain, numerous herds of live stock in
that north country, it only requires the
extension of the railways now push
readily seen the fuel problem Is al
ready solved.
As shown above the railways are
everywhere tapping new districts
where free land is offered to all re
gardless of religion or nationality.
Even In some of the older parts there
is yet plenty of free land. Manitoba
having 1,500,000 acres of It.
The land is there for the asking,
and the next ten years will Bee a large
area of it everywhere dotted with im
proved farms, grain elevators and a
rich, prosperous and pre-eminently
contented population.
Business in the Home.
The adoption of business principles
in the home is not only one of the
ways to obtain happiness, it is the only
way, says Good Housekeeping. We are
speaking now of the average house
hold composed of an average man and
an average woman. And here is the
first step toward happiness: First, the
husband must have the absolute right
to refuse money to the wife; second,
the wife must have the aosolute right
! to demand money from the husband.
It doesn’t look like affection, it doesn't
seem connubial. But analyze it.
Accident Makes His Legs Even.
The injury sustained last week by
Ralph Knepper in a runaway will
probably prove to be a blessing in dis
guise.
When Knepper was 4 years old he
fell under a wagon and his right leg
was crushed. When he recovered the
right leg was an inch and a half short
er than the other. In the runaway
last week Knepper’s left leg was
broken. The physician states that
when the bone mends the leg will be
the same length as the other one.—
Somerset Herald
Last Shot Brought Death.
In the battle of the Sea of Japan
the Russian vessel Borodino contin
ued fighting till she sunk. What was
practically her last shot struck the
Asahi astern, killing or mortally
wounding Lieut. Morishita and seven
others. Lieut. Morishita’s leg was
shot off, but, using his sword as a
crutch, he managed to reach the deck.
There he asked for some paper on
which to write a farewell message to
the Japanese navy. He scrawled the
words: “Banzai! I die a glorious
death,” and fell back dead.
American Eagle in Pennsylvania.
A magnificent specimen of the
“bald” or American eagle, was killed
one evening this week on Morris
Clark’s hill by M. E. Palmer and W.
E. Clark. The bird, which was about
two >ears old, had not fully come to
maturity, and yet would hardly be
called a spring chicken. ’
It measured six feet eight Inches
across the wings from tip to tip, and
two feet seven inches in length. Its
claws were fully two inches long and
Its beak a little over three inches.—
Mansfield Advertiser.
