Leap City Northwestern J. W. BURLEIGH, Publisher. LOUP CITY, - - NEBRASKA. Peace. Making peace with an ax is dimin ishing in popularity among modern rulers. With the ancients, however, the above means seemed to be the ■ only kind that really counted. Caesar, after laying waste a Gaelic province, reported in his gentlemanly Latin: "The barbarians are pacified.” It is related that a Gothic ruler once be came converted to the Christian faith. After mourning for some weeks over jhe blindness of his people he called a general conference of his chiefs. At his right hand stood a missionary, at his left hand a gigantic executioner, who held a broadax suggestively rest ing on the block. "Friends,” said the king, "i have brought you here this morning in order to teach you the great truths of Christianity.” Reli gious enlightenment came easy in that state. These events occurred before the principles of arbitration were un derstood. The aim of our modern peace conference, says Collier's Week-' ly, is to teach the spirit of tranquillity to the individuals who form the units of the nation. The number is increas ing of those who have the most defi nite and conclusive reasons for be lieving that righteousness and peace shou.'d go hand in hand. The world needs peace. There is plenty of room for a pacific doctrine on the German frontier, as well as on the Nevada border, where the miner said to the sheriff: "I reckon there would ‘a- been trouble if 1 hadn't shot the guy.” Helping People to Self-Help. In America we are just learning that the greatest gift you can give a blind man is the ability to earn his own living. Denmark extends that boon to the halt and maimed as well as to the blind. A workman crippled in a Danish factory knows precisely what to do. He goes to the school for disabled workers and learns to sup port himself without the lost arm or leg or finger, as the case may be. The school has made an exhaustive study of trade chances for crippled folk. It provides tools, food, medicine and free orthopedic treatment for its unfortu nate pupils, buys their woyk as soon as it is saleable, and once they know a trade finds them positions. Here, says Mary Bronson Hartt In the World's Work, is a prophecy for the future extension of the American movement for the industrial independence of the blind. M. T. Oblaski writes in the Revue Scientiiique concerning the North American Indians, particularly those of Canada. He is pessimistic as to their future. He notices two princi pal types of’red men. One comes from the regions of the Pacific, is of small stature, slender limbed, fond of the water, non-aggressive, and indo lent. The other is taller, stronger, has more prominent features, abides by the land, is gay, and fond of hunt ing. He finds the Canadian Indian much more civilized than the Indian of the United States. But, from a Darwinian point of view, he foresees the ultimate disappearance Of these aborigines. Among them there is no struggle for existence; for they are housed, fed and educated by the gov ernment: and for this reason natural selection has been interfered with. The evils of civilization have taken hold of them, and will destroy them. When the Paris cab drivers attempt ed to make it impossible for half a dozen women to earn a living driving cabs in the city, the chivalrous Frenchmen went out of their way to hire the women drivers. They were readily distinguished at a distance by their uniform of a low-crowned hat and a flowing cape. The women are doing a good business—so good, in fact, that certain men drivers who have lost their trade have resorted to the trick of discarding their own tall hats and coats and adopting the -wo men's cape and low hat. The passen ger who hails them does not discover the masquerade of the driver till it is too late to send the man away without being laughed at by the people on the street. There is business enough so that the women, even with this unfair competition, continue to prosper. Whatever others may think, a small boy of New Hampshire has the proper opinion of his mother. He has sent a photograph of her to the managers of a New England beauty contest, with a brief note declaring that she is not only the most beautiful woman, but the best mother in the world. Cleopatra was pretty fast in her barge, but she never had the accom modations of a modern swift steam yacht. If she possessed them she would, no doubt, have emigrated to America and avoided that little trou ble with the asp. That rush ef immigration is in full swing. About 15,000 aliens are seek ing admission to this country through the Ellis Island station, and still there are more to follow. The year is to be a record breaker. The Cleveland street-cleaning de partment uses an electrical process to remove the solder from the tin cans that are picked up by the gamage wagons, and as a result is selling about $3,000 worth of solder a year. Of course, every other big city will now proceed to do the same. President Eliot, whose modesty is a candle to his merit, must have been surprised when some of the Harvard the greatest living boys called him CHAPTER VII.—Continued. So far as it lay in my power, I would perform my self-imposed task in a direct and businesslike method. As to this method, a dozen extrava gant courses of action occurred to me at once. Of the dozen I selected two aB possible.. • “Every English gentleman comes of a race of warriors,” the mysterious woman of the reading room had said to me last night. Miss Brett, berag an Englishwoman, had the blood of sol diers in her veins The physical cour age of the battlefield, then, must ap peal to her. If, for instance, I should enlist in the Foreign Legion, there was the Legion cf Honor to be won. The little ribbon would tell its elo quent story. But Willougliby'3 life had been lost amid the dread silence of the white snows. I looked long and earnestly where the sun touched the mountain top with a rosy light out of the morn-' ing mists. The mountains seemed to beckon, to wait for me. I had shuddered—I still shuddered, as I thought of their awful gloom and lonelhrelss. And yet they seemed to beckon—to wait for me. I had been helpless and weak. They had con quered me. Well, I must return to conquer them. Their very immensity need not appal me. Man’s glory is to subdue the vast forces of nature—to make them his own. I thought of the Hospice of St. Bernard. There for centuries men had even laid down their lives to save the perishing. Well, why should I not be one of the little band for the time being? Why should I not become a novitiate in the order? A few months of arduous training, and I should be ready for the battle. If I went to the monastery and told the good father superior of the sacred vow I had made, would he laugh at me for a madman, or would he under stand and help me to fulfill it? I began the day, therefore, vaguely hopeful. I no longer permitted my self to be troubled at the whispers of servants and guests. 1 even courted the society of my fellowmen. f paid my two francs admission to the kur saal. and listened with real enjoyment to its excellent orchestra. My coat was lightly brushed. There was a faint but exquisite per fume. I glanced, as did a dozen others,, at the woman who was pass in!. The small, but superbly poised fig ure, gowned, with a marvelous sim plicity, paused by my side a fraction of a second. It was my acquaintance of the reading room again, and she had murmured a good morning. A dozen had noted the greeting and en vied me. I did not return it. She continued her way daintily, punishing me for my rudeness by smiling across at me mockingly as she seated herself at my right. There was something of a childish, almost fairy malice in the illusive smile. The intermission came. All the world pushed back their chairs, and made their way through glazed doors at the rear, whence an electric bell rang persistently. The motley crowd of officers, tourists, and such of the society of Lucerne as was at the kursaal passed through the glazed doors to play the petits chevaux—a rather harmless form of dissipation, a gambling toy that permits > one to lose at the most a five-franc piece. 1 mingled with the crowd about the green-baize table on which the little metal horses were whirling around an imaginary race course. A croupier changed a 50-franc note for me. I tossed a coin on one of the numbers; and lost. I staked another coin, this time against the field. Again I lost. I staked all my five-franc pieces but two. While 1 weighed them thoughtfully in my palm, my arm was touched lightly. It was my adventuress of the reading room once more. She lifted her eyebrows in whimsical con cern at my ill luck. "Even these little horses, you see, madam, know that I am . to be shunned," I said in a low voice. "My friend,” she smiled, vivacious ly. “they are simply frightened at your black face. They are sensitive, the little horses. But if you coax— we shall see. Allons, we will be pru dent, a little shining franc on number 27. Now, if my brave horses only know that it is I who am asking them to win for us, we shall win.” "Ne rien va plus,” croaked an offi cial in a dingy dress suit and crumpled shirt bosom. He spun the mechanism briskly between two bony fingers and thumb. The tiny Jockeys in blue, buff, green, and red sped swiftly around the course. Presently they straggled one behind the other, and came to a pause. The croupier stretched out his rake, and drew in our two shining francs with the other winnings of the bank. I turned to her sternly. I cried in tragic dismay. ‘You see?” "Pouf! A little patience, monsieur. It is the jockeys who are sulky. I hare forgotten to blow them a kiss. Quick, a five-franc piece, the maxi mum, on the field. This time we shall certainly win.” Three times i i succesion we won— now at even odds, now with the odds in our favor. Hut again the electric bell rang. She shrugged her shoul ders. and made a moue of regret. “Alas! At the hour of our triumph the voice of art clanors.” We returned to the concert room. "Is it not strange,” she murmured after a pause in the music, “that one longs so much for what is just befbnd one's reach, while other fruit, as sweet, may be plucked for the ask iB*r “You speak in riddles, madam,” I said, coldly. Frankly, I had not placed her exactly as that sort of a woman. “Riddles?” She lifted her eye brows, hesitating. “I mean, Mr. Had don. that I should be so glad if we might be friends.” I was unconvinced. “You are too generous,” I said, ironically. “Does your interest in mankind embrace all the world?” “But you have been unfortunate,” she said, softly. “Are you angry that I should be sorry for you?” “I am perplexed, at least.” “if you are only perplexed, I shall not despair.” She smiled at me gayly across the table, her elbows support ing the clasped hands that framed her exquisite beauty. "Come, are we to be friends?” "I remember,” I said, boldly, "when I was at college, a story of Socrates that pointed an obvious moral. Would you like to hear it?” She made a mock grimace. “Oh, Socrates, monsieur, and a philoso pher! And a philosopher henpecked by his wife Xantippe! Am I one to do with a henpecked philosopher? Regard me seriously, monsieur, and tell me. But if you insist—your story; I shall listen patiently.” “The henpecked philosopher, then,” I began somewhat grimly, “tells us that when Hercules had attained man hood he set out on a journey to see the world, and presently came to a parting of two ways. He hesitated as to which way he slipuld choose. While he hesitated there appeared two maidens, each of whom protested that she would lead him the way that he should go. One of these maidens was clad chastely in shortly. “I am to be of use to you, then—and how?" "Gently, monsieur! First of all, are we to be friends?” “And again gently,” I returned with caution. “Your name, if you j,re seri ous.” A rosy-faced page pushed his way toward us, salver in hand. It was at our table he paused. On the salver was a telegram. “For me?” cried my companion eagerly. The boy nodded, but before he could hand the telegram to her, I had seized it myself. I made a gesture, signifying that I asked her consent to read the name addressed on the en velope. She smiled, but reluctantly, I thought. “Madame Sophie de Varnier,” I read aloud, before I passed the tele gram to her. She tore the envelope open with a jeweled cross that hung from her chatelaine. As she read the message, she became frightfully pale; she swayed in her seat. It was not grief so much as utter despair that pros trated her. “Dead!” She repeated the word in French more than once in a dazed voice. “Dead, but it is incredible!" The seconds passed. I did not speak; I regarded her with concern. A beautiful woman is always danger ous, but a beautiful woman in trouble is doubly so. The friendship she had lightly begged of me a moment ago, I was tempted to offer seriously now. She had piqued and fascinated me. Now her unhappiness touched my heart. But suddenly I doubted. Was it a clever ruse, this advent of the tele gram so aply timed? Was she a con summate actress, confident of her dupe? No; the agony the message had caused her was undoubtedly genu ine. When she looked at me, it was with eyes heavy with despair. When at last she spoke, her eyes burned fiercely, her voice was harsh with anger. The words she uttered were certainly not addressed to me. They were spoken rather in spite of my presence than because of it. “Look! I stake all in one throw! I lose all—in a moment. I hold in my clenched hands the liberty and happiness of 10,000 women and chil dren. And then a cursed fate strikes from my grasp this priceless happi- j £z^cr'/01. Dead! somber but not unpleasing raiment. ‘If, Hercules, you will go my way, you will find it rough and tiresome. There are brambles to impede your progress; there are sharp stones that will cut your sandals. It will always be hazardous, but it will lead to hap piness.' ” “Ah. happiness!” sighed the woman opposite me. “She promised much.” "The other maiden was extremely beautiful and her raiment was of sil very tissue. ‘My way,’ she said, soft ly, taking Hercult’b gently by the arm, ‘Is' strewn with flowers. It leads, broad and gently sloping, over soft turf, and there is music to gladden the hours. My way leads to pleasure.’ The name of the first maiden was Virtue; the name of the other, madam'—” I paused; I was indeed very bold. I looked at my vis-a-vis with some trepidation. I need have felt none. She broke into light laughter,. her hands clasped, her eyes sparkling. She leaned demurely toward me; her bright eyes‘mocked me. “The name of the other maiden was Vice,” she cried in a hollow, lugubri ous voice. “My dear gentleman, you are too delicious. Mon Dieu, I should be furious with you! You are telling me quite brutally that your cold Eng-' lishwoman—she is Virtue; and I, the very wicked one—I am naughty Vice.” And again she laughed deliciously. “Pardon me, It is you who are ap plying the moral,” I protested awk wardly. * “Then if it is applied not correctly, let us have th*, iaia ^-plication,” she 'oeseeched. “That must follow the explanation of your extraordinary interest in me.” “Hum!’! She leaned back critical ly. “Shall I say It is because you are handsome?” “Not if you are honest,” I chuckled. "Or good?” “Why not say brave?” I demanded, bitterly. “Or that you remind me of a friend?” “Say of your late lamented grand mother.” “Or,” site Hashed, “that It is cause you can be of use to me?” dear ness. My poor people, ray poor peo ple! Again I fail you: I betray you!” She stared at me with eyes that did not see. Her small hands pressed her temples convulsively. “Perhaps, madam, it is fate also who has sent me to you now, to help you.” “Perhaps,” she said, heavily, scarce ly listening. Then suddenly an expression, quite merciless, distorted her features. Her pupils dilated in her fierce excitement. She studied my face critically, coldly deliberate. There was something por tentous, almost ominous, in this cool stare. It disconcerted me; it made me already regret my proffer of friend ship. She smiled; but the smile was Medusa-like. “Yes, I believe it. Fate has sent you to me. And you—are you willing to follow where Fate leads?" “Why not?” I demanded with more curiosity than sincerity, I confess. "An, you are courageous enough for that? Monsieur, you are a bold man.” “Surely not so bold as you, madam, in asking courage of a man who has been disgraced for cowardice.” It was difficult to keep the sneer out of my voice. “I know to whom I speak, my dear monsieur. The task I would set you demands not the brute courage of the fool, but the devotion of a crusader. It is a sacred cause; its servants are not easily found.” “I am flattered that I fulfill the re quirements so admirably," I returned cynically. "But you will find it difficult to convince me that my extraordinary courage and devotion to a good cause make my services invaluable. Why should you choose me from a score of men to help you?”, “You are right. Above all things we must be frank with each other. You are at the Schweitzerhof? Au revoir, you will hear from me soon." I bowed over the hand she held lan guidly toward me. I was embarked on an adventure. Where would it lead me? CHAPTER VIII Prince Ferdinand and His Ambitions. I returned to my hotel soberly enough. I had told my little allegory lightly. Now I asked myself if I should not apply it seriously to myself. Only this morning I had mapped out for myself a clear path to be followed. And already was a siren beckoning? Already was I en chanted? I was intensely irritated that I should have allowed myself to be in terested by this Sophie de Varnier. For the past hour I had been playing dangerously near the fire. It had not yet burned me; but could 1 honestly say that it had not warmed, intoxi cated, allured? Very well, 1 must be careful not to compromise myself in the future. Two women had met me at the part ing of the ways. One of them had set me a task, holding herself proudly aloof, promis ing nothing. If this task were actu ally accomplished, the reward was to be the deed itself. And now another woman had come —radiant, glittering, a subtle perfume lulling the senses. Her wild beauty, her charm, had been frankly displayed to enthrall me. She had promised a definite adventure. As to the reward 'it seemed to me too brazenly obvious. I flicked the ash angrily from my cigarette. And was 1 really tempted? Hardly, I resolved savagely. And yet I was not fool enough Jo be blind to the fact that the situation was not without its danger. My shoulder was tapped. I was seated in the vestibule of my hotel. I looked up, startled. A well-|roomed man in the early thirties towered over me, an American I saw at once. The round, jocund face was vaguely fa miliar. “Yes. exclaimed a burly voice, ft is really old Hadden." I grasped the hand he held toward me with emotion. Here was a friend, an American, and I needed a friend badly just now. I had not seen Locke since we were at college together. We had never been intimate, but the big-hearted Robinson Locke had been a character among his classmates. At first I hesitated to his cordial greetings; I was afraid he had not heard my story. But presently he plunged into the episode that had made me notorious for a day. Then I knew he had come to stand by me. “It is a brutal lie, of course,” he stormed indignantly, ‘but even if it were true—” He clapped my shoul der. "It is true—at least in a measure.” “Rot!” he exclaimed with cheerful skepticism, lowering his person into the yielding expanse of an armchair by my side. "Tell me about it." “Unless you insist, I prefer not to,” I said quietly, beckoning a waiter. “It was just a horrible accident. Frankly, to have saved his life was impossible. But 1 might have died with him. I didn't. There you have my disgrace in a nutshell." He looked somewhat glum at this cold-blooded explanation and stirred uneasily in his chair. I watched him, not. without grim amusement. He pulled at his cigar, searching my face keenly. "Rot!” he cried again, and this time with conviction. "If you feel any dis grace, it is your own fault, Haddon. If you were the coward they say you are, you wouldn’t sit there smiling at me. You would rave and swear by all the gods that you were innocent. I don’t want to hear your story. But I want you to know that, you have one friend from home to stick up for you, and to believe in you.” I was too moved to speak. “That’s all right, then," he said with gruff gentleness. “It must be hell to be over here alone and everybody kicking you.” “Oh, that was to be expected, of course! But last night I had an ex perience that I wouldn’t go through again if 1 could help it” (TO BE CONTINUED.) The Pope and Cardinal Vaughan On the cocasion of the great Marian congress in Rome, the pope sum moned Father Bernard Vaughan to represent the English speaking peo ples. The Italians were amazA to find him so un-English, as they thought, in his dramatic style. The story goes (says a writer in the New Oxford weekly paper, “ ’Varsity Life Illustrated”) that one day the pope, in the presence of one of his cardinals mimicked the preacher’s style, where upon Rampolla exclaimed: “And he is an Englishman!” "No,” replied the pope, “he was bom on the top of Mount Vesuvius, and we sent him to England to cool.” Cat Sand for Dyspepsia. West Chester, Pa.—A number of people in this place who are suffering with stomach trouble have taken to “the wad ewei" and are taking U Mississippi and is packed in bags con taining a couple of quarts. It is taken in doses of a spoonful, and as often a3 the patient has an attack of the trouble. "When any animal has an at tack of stomach trouble,” argues a pa tient, “it goes at once to the ground for some clay or sand for a cure, and why should not a man?” Alcohol From Grapes. The little grapes grown In Greece which are sold under the trade name of Zante “currants” in this country, are often used in the king dom where they are produced to make alcohol' for cooking and heat ing houses. Brilliancy and Cleverness. The difference’ - between brilliancy and cleverness is that a clever man may seem to be brilliant when he lOTf** SttH*** What reason could not avoid has often been cured by delay.—Seneca. lira. Winslow • Soothing 87rap. Tor children teething, softens the guns, reduce; In flammstlon, allays psln, cores wind colic. 23cs bottle. Any woman can make a dollar go so far that her husband will never see it again. Don’t Sneeze Your Head Off. Krause’s Cold Capsules will cure you al most instantly. At all Druggists, 25e. No, Cordelia, a man doesn’t neces sarily have paint In his eyes when lio is color blind. Lewis’ Single Binder costs more than jther 5c cigars. Smokers know why. Your dealer or Lewis’ Factory, Peoria, 111 History Will Be Costly. So far the British official history of the Boer war has cost $125,000, and only one volume has appeared. It may not be possible for & young man to measufe life; but it is possi ble to say, I am resolved to put life to its noblest and best use. To be on good terms with human nature, Be Well! Garfield Tea purities the blood, eradicates disease, regulates the digestive organs and brings Good Health! Manu factured by Garfield Tea Co., Brooklyn, N. Y. Sold by druggists. The people of Colorado are so con fident that publicity pays large divi dends that they are going to spend a fund in advertising the state’s re sources. To prevent that tired feeling on ironing day—Use Defiance Starch— saves time—saves labor—saves annoy ance, will not stick to the iron. The big 16 oz. package for 10c, at your grocer’s. Obeying Hie Command. Benham—Did you have any com pany while I was away? Mrs. Benham—Nobody to speak of. Benham—Wasn’t your mother here? Mrs. Benham—Yes, but you won’t let me speak to her. That an article may be good as well as cheap, and give entire satisfaction, is proven by the extraordinary sale of Defiance Starch, each package con taining one-third more Starch than can be had of any other brand for the same money. Siamese Object to Walking. The Siamese, above all nations in the world, hate to walk; no such mode of progression is tolerated by a Siam ese if he or she can by any means ride. A Venetian gondolier will walk sometimes; even a Hollander will ride on his rough cart; but a Bangkok man —not if he can help it. His family boat for him.—Windsor Magazine. With a smooth iron and Defiance Starch, you can launder your shirt waist just as well at home as the steam laundry can; it will have the proper stiffness and finish, there will be less wear and tear of the goods, and it will be a positive pleasure to use a Starch that does not stick to the iron. Much “Havana” Tobacco. During the last year there were ex ported from Cuba the enormous num ber of 256,738,029 "Havana” cigars. Only about 30 per cent came to the United States, the total American pur chases amounting to 79,483,125 cigars, while England took 92,459,687. Ger many buys from 25,000.000 to 30,000, 000 and France 10,000,000 to 12,000, 000. Shoemaker’s Last. The following is taken from a hand bill issued by a provincial bootmaker: "The shoemaker is a man of great learning. He is a doctor as well as a surgeon, for he not only heels but ; performs many cutting operations. He 1 is a fishmonger, for he sells soles and heels. He is a schoolmaster, for he gives good understanding. He is a good speaker, for he always works the thread of his argument, waxes | warm to his subject, and holds all to the last.” When You Want Pure White Lead, [Get It Prot*bly there is no other article of com merce subject ed to so mucn dul tera tion and mis repre sentation as W hite Lead. Out of 18 brands of “White Lead ” recently analyzed by the Government Agricultural Experiment Station of North Dakota, 5 contained absolutely no W’hite Lead, 5 less than 15% of White Lead, and only 3 over 90% of White Lead. There is, however, a way to be cer tain of the purity and genuineness of the White Lead you buy, and that is to see that the keg you buy bears the Dutch Boy trade mark. This trade mark is a positive guarantee of abso lutely Pure White Lead made by the Old Dutch Process. SEND FOR BOOK " A Talk on Paint,” Kites valuable infer ■nation on the paint ■abject Sent free Upon reqaeat. All lead packed in 19