Nebraska Newspapers

    HOMAN’S *
LAND
j5k L0UIS JOSEPH VANCE
^ILLUSTRATIONS BY ^^/t=k£>
co,-*Yjt /jw sr UX//3 jousv msrs
SVKOPSIS.
Oiii-i! <*•>•' a »< : rr an of N*w
▼ « * n.rria Ikwi: .» i-.i-ik stock. who
Jo* r* t-4ja it> a <nr<: puitir Ho ihopU.
Vkavck too 4MMm til t \*fftrk. f ho IWS*
■has w-.«g | - s» t»<tt; «*v .fi a*»« trtlh Kath
■ t htb to <wni*er iKt
tt* MMfemcfc ■* in wort hr of hr*
•**» »:• v At u r t> c *»st moti two
'MiuH ‘*-r~1ta« and V>tt T#)l Thrr* *»
M twmf Mf uto< ■ m * shoots Van
Inn a—f Chao) strccglrs to wrrat thr
frail ;.*», It - thr eot-l» dis
V-*.»r Hoot. Ciwt it trr-Mtf iwiitdrr
.Mr to <-**o> r-t»d. tot a* hr boston Itto tm- |
*rto r Iptot. M>mr> I; larksto* k as th*
.• at... t an>: hi'to r..srlf Coast br
1*10 ft*r hut tUa-hatm k has m.-irrtrd
ICrlt-rr » Tiastrr »l ftrd Coast pur
iwM aad whUr sot Hoc aara a
— ffcrsarn (tsa a distant boat Hr rro
t»*r frttoa sir to nx-nod A pp board.
> atrHr ii i >iaad. known aa
'** kill lasd IVsart starts «*ut to m
hit i.r pi.,, and . ttsri upon st-mr
hwttto * nUitliida Hr dtoatm a man
dtsf I'pao stows furthrr and approach
Is* a a> hr arm katlitnht Thaatrr. ,
r In rs<..* !,* that trt * unbind. undrr th*
asn*r of Ola.W iaa trufkl l hr island I
Hr s laltosd a wtrrirss oprrator and has
d at at hot tbrrr Coast Informs hrr that
*-r ‘ •tout murdrrrd Van Tujrt. Coast
» -a BU ksiurt and ao«n« Chinaman
toerj I’d a roan Tfcry *lr» at him. I Mil hr
-to i**wt to Apish** ard. who «rta him
to - r f; ho la aafrt*. and tbrrr hr rr
««s* Cat hr to a r rrt nrrrh-r man
SI* hai brrtt nl' l .i | thr i-Todtd on
•hr csid s .»pr. tin* tlsrr arr criminals
■Con*- » »* t,uss to fathom thr tntatrr'rs
of ... Mans I ant and la drtmnlrrd
I. * ■ ..rrtnr A tall rat’d Irli* .*»
tt * Hta* i and hto sans uakr a ahirid
ad in* a rrima st»*l .r to rondu.-t a sinus
Ml ns toasMS Coast pmrtratrs to thr
Can of SsLS.di d-asular
CHAPTER XIII.—(Continued.)
RlK-l.-turk tpoki- abrup'ly the in
plant Ci «»( in foreleg • be
door b—-abruptly and harshly. but
•ttb a curtain Jrrky intonation that
Vtnjt Jangled mum: an Involun
■tary c nfesaion ra<w welcome to It*
hearer this was after all. with
nil »*.» nrlotuMM a human being
no stub Der-.eiost monster of blood
and iron as Appieyard had pictured
in his ear rail>e of the hour of the as
■nasiaatlca. or eren as Const had
cam ’r figure the man in his long
days of nopeiesa brooding
Wno's thatT* he cried. "Who's ]
•her-* What the devil—"
He •« js-d to control his agl- *
tat.00. But Coast withheld his reply
an apprwrtahie moment. Then. "Mr
itttorh. I beUereT" he said quietly.
"Black!" The man started at sound
ml aa nadnmWT voice, and Coast saw
jhts gr- at frame qu. ter—slightly. in
deed. hot perceptibly "That's my
(Uacsr he continued hoarsely. "But
t . who are you? . . . What
«d"you mean by coming In here with
out knocking?- he added with a show
of laiuster.
'. knoi ked—sev-ral <imes." Coast
Umi steadily. "The wind, doubtless
Horry I startled you; though: ;
;y«r_ d be expecting me "
* .'lapecting you!” Blackstock moved
(“lc. pat let. r "But. damn It. who are
you* Can't you give yourself a name?"
"Why. Handy side. of course."
tCoast * tear was a perfection of po
ll*# surprise "Surely," it seemed to
(Bay “you must've been looking lor
-me'' Dr»irusting d- Uberately arti
lfl< ial Infectious he w as at pains to
(Speak risply. aa was not his habit;
•noth be .eg the only way he could
think of to disguise his voice. He
was watching Blackstock closely. alert
for a • <0 of recognition In the man's
•eapr--a somewhat to bis surprise
!he defected none "I jot orders to
cm: Here and relieve Power last
nlrs*.- h-»- continued "Came down
'tht. i n -r ; s la New ivdferd and—"
TV ■ v- iru froze upon bis lips. A
door t no left had opened: Katherine
s jod there, watching. listening Ap
j—r fly >h- had staged to enter
■ itfii J any suspicion that her hus
bard vi- not talking to one of the
• ser an's. and In her sstoulshtnc nt
had <09, -6. The figure of the man
I by the do w could no: but be strange
)to k r. magked as its every line and
con* sr was by clumsy and tliless
Mtl-ktas end the deep shadow cast by
11 he !.? ii. turn diown brim of a sou’
• < * «-r • » t Const thought to discern
,k death less apprehension In her pose,
la Si bo: .11 finitely pitiful question In
‘her - ye* And his heart stoor. still,
for *!e cr. ctal Instant was Imm.cent;
,ia nr minute. two at mo.-f. she
wo-ld kb a him. And then . . .?
"Well?" Blackstock roused him.
What you stopping for? I'm listen
ing”
I eg .srdon" Coast fugg-j *t
tb- b .'tut. >» the rhic-etrap of bis
’sou'wester. The lady there ... I
Idtta't know . . ."
Iltarkstu'k turned his bead impa
jttewi; moving his sightless ey.g In
•the «j ection of Katherine "Oh.' be
said. ' mj *«*—~
The woman morel quickly Into the
room. "Yes." she ~:iid. still with her
eyes to the stranger. "It Is I. Doug
las I didst know—I fancied one oi
?h« gerratU . . .
“This is Mr. Handytide." Hlarksiork
told her sharply, as if Irri'ated by the
interrupt too: "he's to take Power’s
remitted bit sou'wester and
came forward a pace, ro that the light
• a* ttroag upon bis face “Yet-.
'ma'am." he said. "I'm the new opera
tor ~H .■ d'jraa do?" He contrived
*o beep fat* tone coolly respectful rod
impersonal. but M» eyes were plead
ing nth ter. and he hung upon the
JastK of her re*pons • as a condemned
m»a i re* a the hope of a reprieve
t*he knew him now; bis action in
d: :co*«tag bis features had but
hastened slightly the confirmation of
her most dread premonition. And of »
sudden her fare was a mask of chain
set with eyes that blazed with cojd
fire* of terror. Coast raw her sway,
but though he feared she was about
to faint, dared not move to her as
atataace. indeed, there was no need;
•fee was fashioned of sterner stuff;
though every atom of her being shud
der* >1 she remained mistress of her
•rtf. An instant's delay would bare
been damning: she knew that . . .
and h«r answer fall pat aa be ceased
to speak.
-Good evening." she said so admira
bly that there was even s hint of lan
guid Indifference la her voice. "You
feave surprised pa. Mr Handyslde."
-Lord, yes'" HlaAstock broke in.
mm•*
? Cmm
"It's bard ;o believe. D'you mean to
tell m<- you made the ru:: through this
storm ?"
The bleed flowed back into Coast's
hear). He flashed the woman a loqk
vt thanks, but h r gaze was blank as
it met his. and he knew that as yet
she existed and guided her actions au
tomatically. The real awakening to
the situation was yet to come—nor
with her would It be long delayed.
The crisis was not yet past.
■’Well," he said, with a careless
half-laugh, "I'm here, you see. It Is
a blow, that's a fact. Had me
frightened; I've seen some storms—
but they were from the decks of
steamships.” He tu'gan to unfasten
the oilskin coat. “Lucky to get here
at all. I guess."
“That's true, or I'm no judge of
weather. 1 wonder you managed to j
get Finn and llecksher to take the
chance."
“They didn't want to." Coast of
fered up a fervent prayer of gratitude
for the fortuitous turn of the conver
sation that had supplied him with the
names of Mr. Handyside's traveling
companions. "But ! was told to hustle
berause Power was leaving you prac
tically without notice, so I insisted.
Of course the fog held us up all morn
ing; and then we had to have an ac
cident r"
How's that?*' lllackstock sat down
heavily, still with his staring eyes
turned toward Coast, his face clouded
“Lucky to Get ’ere at All, I Guess."
with thoughtfulness. "Where are
they, anyway?" he continued without
pause, as one reminded of an over
sight. "Finn—Hecksher—why aren’t
they with you?"
“Oh. they’re all right.” Coast par
ried. mailing time for Katherine,,
whose struggle to retain her po'se
and comprehend just what it all meant
was e-gazing his attention to such a
degree that he had to force himself
to give heed to Blackstock. “You
don’t reed to worry about them.”
H’.aekstock leaned forward, scowling
ic ently "What d'you mean by that?
' .dn't they bring you here?”
"Only part way; you see. this acci
dent I mentioned—”
' What sort of an accident? Hang
It. if they didn't bring you— Where’d
you leave them?”
’Safe enough—high and dry
aground in Quick’s Hole.”
“The devil vcu say! How’d Finn
come to run the Corsair aground?
Why. he knows more about this
coast—’’
"Not bis fault It came about kind
ness of some amateur asses—beg
pardon. Mrs. Black; I'm quoting Mr.
Finn—in a catfcoat. . . . They al
most ran us down when we were
about midway through the Hole—
didn't seem to know what they were
doing; and in trying to avoid a col
lision we piled up on a shoal on the
lei t hand side of the channel—forget
the name of the island It makes off
from.”
Coast hesitated in assumed perplex
ity. in acuai trepidation more acute
than he cared to acknowledge evea
to himself.
“Pasqiie, you mean?"
“That's It.” But though his story
seemed to be credited, the tension held
ur.relaxed; Katherine was recovering
from her shock and . . . What
would she do when she had had time
to take second thought? Would her
primal impulse shield him. to further
his deception, prevail? Or would some
mad concept of duty force her to ex
pose him and bring ruin down upon
them both?
He could not keep his eyes from
her. Not a detail of her attitude es
caped him, not a convulsive movement
of her band (in whose rosy hollow lay
his life and hers) . . . She stood
unmcvicg by the tcble, one • hand
touching it for support.
Meanwhile he heard himself talking,
responding glibly to Blackstock's
testy catechism.
"But how the devil'd you get here,
then?"
"Pure luck. We’d been stuck about:
half an hour when a fisherman—fel
low named Wise, from Vineyard Ha
ven—came along, trying to beat the
storm home We hailed him and he
luffed up to us—he could do that wtth
his boat, a light-draught Cape Cod
cat; and I offered him a ten-spot to
bring me on. You see. I understood
it was an emergency case. He held
back a bit, but the sight of the money
fetched him; and he earned it. I
wouldn’t take that trip again for a
hundred dollars.”
“Well, then . . . But what's be
come of him?"
"Oh. he went back to his boat—
said he didn’t dare to leave her for
fear she’d drag and come up on the
beach. Besides, he said his wife'd
be fretting about him and he wanted
to be ready to beat back the first
sign of a let up."
“1 see." Blackstock nodded slow
ly. “You must be pretty well used
up.” He laid his hand as if abstract
edly upon the table beside him, moved
it to and fro, found the edge of the 1
whisky tray, and grasped the neck of
the decanter. “You’ve earned a
drink, Handyside?"
“Thank you,” he said, “but I’m od
the wagon."
Blackstock chuckled. "That’s yout
affair,” he said. I’m not." There was
a grain of combative bravado in the
latter words. He splashed whisky into
a tumbler and diluted it with a little
water, f.nding the objects with an
adroitness on a par with that which
had excited Appleyard’s Interest.
"Health.” he said, tersely, and drank
The woman roused herself. ’■Per
haps Mr. Handyside will sit down."
she suggested in a toneless voice.
Her eyes challenged Coast’s. He
looked away, unable to endure their
pitiful defiance. The drama of her
life had needed but this last heart
touch. There are tragedies
In women's life beside which death
itself is trifling. ,
“No, thanks; I'm all wet.” He won
dered to hear his own voice so steady
and in character with his impersona
tion. “About done up. too. If you
don’t mind, t'd like to turn in.”
“I’ll show you the way." Black
stock rose. “You’re to have Power’*
room."
Coast’s glance was instant to the
woman's face and found It inscrutable.
Did she or did she not suspect? .
“Power won't mind?" he asked
qulckiy; and still she showed no
sign.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Swordfish and Beer Keg
New York Judge Telle a Lund Tale
of Adventure Off Block
Island.
Judge Tom Dinnean Is back with
bis good ship Nomad after a cruise
id which be had some rare adventures,
says the New York World Here’s
one as be tells It himself with bis
well known regard for veracity:
"We were fifteen miles off Block
island in the duskus of the day when
we came on a school of salt mackerel.
First thing we knew a swordfish but
ted in and there was a wild scramble
among the mackerel. The swordfish
filled up on the school and then like
an overfed bog took a nap on the sur
face of the water My engineer used
to be a New Bedford whaler and he
carries a lot of old-time tackle on
the Nomad. He went for'ard and
i heaved a harpoon into the small of
| the swordfish's back. He bad al
ready secured an empty beer keg—
got that “empty?”—to the end o. the
harpoon line Mr. Swordfish a* soon
as the harpoon got into him took it
on the run with the beer keg trailing
along He dived and tacked and
doubled on bis tracks, but the keg was
ever on the job. Finally his despair
and exhaustion did the trick. He gave
a feeble flicker with his tall and we
hauled him aboard. He was six feet
two inches long and weighed four
nubdred pounds, and say—he was fine
eating.”
Properly Punished.
”1 refuse to pay. If I do. I hope
my arms will drop off," declared a
man recently when summoned by the
Stourbridge (Eng.) Guardians for de
clining to pay 1b a week towards the
maintenance of his mother A start
ling sequel to his oath occurred the
other day when be became paralysed.
i&r sum mee? mimuiv
LONG the boulevards be
tween the Madeleine and
the Place de la Repub
lique, along the Champs
Elysees from the Arch to
the Obelisk, in little bras
series along the Seine, in
the so-called "American
bars" of the Opera quar
ter, in the pastry shops
along the Rue de Fau
bourg St Honore, at the
-’ prix nxe
tables
d’hote along the
Boul’ Mich of the
Latin quarter — in
fact, in almost any
of the twenty aron
dissementa within
the fifty-six gates of
the French capital,
will be found the
ubiquitous Ameri
can grafter.
Attracted to you
by either the Ameri
can roll to the brim
of your derby or
nrucKion made shoe, be will un
erringly single you out as a fellow
countryman abroad on pleasure bent,
therefore fish for his net. He may be
working on one of the three com
moner “lays"—the “touch,” the “loan"
or the “guide.” In other words, he
may brazenly ask you for a small sum
of money with which he may obtain
food or lodging, he may tell you a
hard luck story about a mythical de
layed draft and ask you for a loan to
tide him over, or he may offer to
guide you around and about Paris
at so much an hour or a day.
The pleas of those after a "loan”
are in many cases both heartrending
and plausible. A cable message is
often displayed which may read: "Sor
ry delay. Draft for thousand first
mail.” Who could refuse a clean-cut
young fellow from Milwaukee after
he had told you of the clothing locked
up at his hotel, of two sleepless nights
passed in walking the streets of
Paris? With tears in his eyes he as
sures you that not a morsel of food
has he swallowed in eight and forty
hours; then he exhibits the cable mes
sage, and you part with 50 or 100
francs—never to see it again.
The beggars are a nuisance, the bor
rowers are a pest, but the so-called
American “guides” of the great French
city are most unquestionably the
worst of the lot, in that their dealings
with American visitors, while appar
ently straightforward, are as crookpd
as the proverbial ram’s born. Graft,
under a thousand different cloaks, en
ters into their propositions. They
toil not, nor do they spin, yet few
tourists eat better food, drink better
wine or wear more fashionable attire
than do these buccaneers of the boule
vards.
They pounce upon you as you leave
your train at the Gare St. Lazare:
they scan the columns of the newspa
pers for the names and addresses of
the newly arrived Americans; they
haunt the vicinage of the Grand ho
tel; they hall you as you leave the
Credit Lyonnais after cashing a draft;
but possibly of all places their favor
ite stamping ground is along the
northern side of the Boulevard des
Capucines. Here, upon every hand,
paiticularly during the late afternoon
and evening, you will encounter the
American "guide" airily swinging his
rattan stick, his shifty eyes looking
for the telltale American derby.
Naturally, if it be your first visit
to Paris, you desire to see all Paris,
both before and after dark. He will
help you. You hail with delight the
coming of the interpreter-guide who
speaks your language, for are not the
sights and mysteries of Paris as an
open book to him?
His rates are only a louls a day and
expenses, but even this sum can be
shaded should you plead your inabil
ity to afford that sum. Should you be
unable to afford a half-louls, or even a
measly five-franc piece, it is more
than likely that the guide will yawn,
gaze up and down the boulevard, and
then deliver himself substantially as
follows:
"Well, I'm sorry. Times are pretty
slow over here and I’m not very busy.
But look a-here—I’ll tell you what I'll
do: I’ve nothing on today or tonight,
and seeing that you’re from Little Old
New York—my home town—I’ll show
you around for nothing, just for the
sake of passing away the time. You
pay the cab fares, the lunch, the sup
per. and I’ll show you everything
that’s to be seen. I’ll save you money
and keep you from being skinned. It’ll
cost you less if I take you around
than it would if you tried to get
around alone—and take it from me,
the Apaches are pretty bad this year
and it isn’t safe for an outsider to
pike around Montmartre without a
guide who knows all the ropes. What
do you say? Will we start now?"
Who could refuse such an In vita- '
tlon? Not the average American tour
ist upon bis first visit. True, with the
aid of a guidebook be might find bis 1
way to the Louvre. His boarding
school French might even serve to get 1
him to Versailles and back again !
without serious mishap or extraordi
nary expenditure. But nearly all ,
American visitors, both male and fe
male, desire for once in their lives to
witness the far-famed near-naughti- :
ness of Paris at first hand, and that
is where the guide comes in.
Versailles, the Bois de Boulogne, the
Louvre, a dinner at the Cafe de Paris,
followed by a night at the Folies Ber- '
gere, might suit a small minority of
the American visitors, and a few of
the women folk, after a cheap glove !
hunting trip, a day in the dressmak
ing establishments in the Rue de la
Paix and a grenadine at one of the
marble topped tables along the Boule
vard des Italiens, feel that they have
seen all that is fit to see of Paris.
Not so, however, with the great ma- ;
jcrity. Male and female alike clamor
for the Moulin Rouge, the Bal Tara
rin, the Abbaye, Maxim’s, the Tavern
of the Red Ass. the Rat Mort and
other resorts of lesser repute. They
seek to comb the narrow streets of
the Latir. Quarter that they may see
Bohemia with their own eyes. They
are anxious to buy wine at the Dome
for models who sometimes pose; they
do not rest until they have visited the
Bal Builier, famous on five continents.
Hence the guide—for it is an easier
matter for a multi-millionaire to get
by St. Peter than for an “unsteered" !
stranger to find some of these estab- :
lishments.
When an obliging young man ofTers I
to 3how you around town without any
expense to yourself, what is more nat
ural than for you to accept such a
kind offer.
naving accepted me gratuitous ot- j
fer of the American guide, you map I
out a tour for the afternoon and eve- ;
ning, we will say. Singularly enough, j
your guide is not satisfied with the
first cocher who cracks his whip and
solicits your patronage—he needs
must go down the line and pick out
a certain driver.
“This feller's on the level with his
charges." the guide explains as you
drive off. "I know him for a square
cocher. Some of the others would
most likely drive you ofT into some
side street where the Apaches would
hold you up and split with him.”
Having arrived at your destination
by a more or less circuitous route, you
pay the driver a sum which seems
cheap when compared with a drive
of the same length in the States, and
yet it is usually twice or three times
the amount of the legal fare. You
notice that the guide seems to be
very friendly with the driver and that
when you dismiss the cabby he shakes
hands with the guide. Indeed, this
handshaking continues throughout the
entire evening, for no matter where
you stop to drink or eat or gaze the
proprietors always shake hands with
the guide—invariably at the moment
you take your leave.
It seems quite unnccesary to add
that from the moment you enter a re
sort a careful account is kept of your
expenditures, and at the moment of
your leavetaking a commission vary
ing from 25 per cent, to 50 per cent,
passes from one palm to another. It
is usually 50 per cent, in the resorts
which appeal to the inner man.
Even should you venture Into a
place where your guide is personally
unknown to the management he still
obtains his commission, for when you
enter his first move is to whisper to
the proprietor or manager these four
magic words: “Je suis l'interprete.”
The commission t3 added to the price,
and rare indeed are the shops or re
sorts which do not make it “worth
while” for the man who accompanies
you.
Indeed, some of these self-styled
"interpreter-guides" have been resi
dents of Paris for such short space
that their French vocabulary is prac
tically limited to those four words.
In the early hours of the morning,
after the guide has shaken hands
with the last cocher in front of your
hotel, you thank your companion for
his kindness in helping you to pass an
enjoyable evening. You may even
take pity on him on account of the
dull state of his business and surrep
titiously slip a balf-louis into his re
ceptive palm. He will not object. He
has spent twelve hours, more or less,
with you, and seems to have been
well acquainted wherever you went
You are confident that he has saved
you money, and naturally you feel
grateful toward him.
The fact of^the matter is that he
has been driven all over the city at
your expense; he has lunched and
dined with you. to say nothing of the
midnight bite at the Cafe Weber; and
if you have spent the sum of 200
francs during the afternoon and eve
ning you may rest assured that gold
and silver amounting to some 80 or
100 francs—once yours—is safe in one
of the pockets of the guide's fashion
ably cut trousers.
It was one the privilege of the writ
er to listen to the absinthe inspired
confidences of a number of American
“guides” and panhandlers. A young
man wearing a frock coat and well
ironed silk topper approached the
table and begged for the privilege of
a few words with me. His linen was
spotless—his story seemed flawless.
He had, so he said, been robbed in
Montmartre while seeing the town a
few nights before. He had cabled for
funds, but a heartless landlord had
locked up his ten suits of clothing and
turned him into the street. Would I
kindly come to his relief with a small
loan for a few days until the arrival
of his draft? He exhibited a typewrit
ten cable message which looked prom
ising, and the tears came to my eyes
as I thought of his predicament and
overpeppered my bouillon.
“I’m sorry I can't help you out,” I
told him. “You see, this happens to
be my third visit to Paris, and I’ve
heard all about these heartless land
lords and delayed drafts before. Those
sleeve buttons of yours ought to fetch
enough at the Mont de Piete to tide
you over for a few days should you
be on the level.”
The man in the frock coat was
about to slink away, when I asked him
to join me and have an aperitif. Over
an absinthe-au-sucre he waxed confi
dential and told me his story.
“You're wise, ” said he, as he sur
veyed the opalescent contents of his
glass. “There sure is a bunch of
American grafters over here having
a pretty soft time. I’ve only been
over here two months, but some of !
the push have been here for years.”
He helped himself to my cigarettes
and continued: .
“Paris is a cheap place to live in. A :
perfect dinner costs very little. The
rent of a nice room is about half what
you have to pay in New York, less
than that once you can speak French
and know how to make a bargain.
Clothing of the best sort can be had
for a song, and a two-horse carriage
can be hired for about twice the price
of a carfare in the states.
“Pickings are good during the tour
ist season, and the only kick that the i
boys have is on the French shoes and j
cigarettes. Several of the bunch im
port their own smokes. Of course,
the favorite graft is the American
tourist. He always has money, and is
over here to spend it and have a good
time. If we spin a good yarn about
hard luck it's pretty easy to make a
"touch” for a louis, and ’most any ;
New Yorker will fall for a five-franc
piece.”
“I used to keep a set of books in !
Cleveland," another American grafter !
told me over a glass of Algerian “Bor- j
deaux” in a little brasserie in the Rue 1
Vignon. “I’d saved a bit of money and ‘
felt too strong to push a pen any long
er, so I came over here to take in the
sights. I went broke the third day
after my arrival, and as I found so
many people willing to help me I’ve
stayed here ever since. Paris is all
right after you’ve lived here awhile
and know the ropes. I’m here going
on seven years now, and I expect to
live here the rest of my life.”
Good Blood First Requisite
I
Says Life Is a Continual Fight Against
Destructive Forces Which
Must Be Combatted.
If the human organism were perfect
and remained so It would age. but
never wear out. writes G. Eliot Flint
in the New York World. There would
be no disease, and death would never
overtake us except through the me
dium of personal violence.
This perfection of organism Is ap
proximated, even attained, by many of
us; but after persisting for a certain
time the delicate balance of destruc
tion and reconstruction of tlssug is
lost by destruction slightly predomi
nating. until finally, through steadily
I recessive stages, caused by progres
sive disintegration, the system suc
cumbs to the forces without and the
body diea
Life is a continual fight against
forces which- strive constantly to de
stroy us. The Infant fights to live,
and. contrary to the popular notion, if
he be healthy he is difficult to kilL It
is true that Infant mortality is great,
but that Is because the percentage of
thoroughly healthy infants bora to the
poor, who constitute the bulk of our
population, and who are generally
overworked and underfed, is small.
The adolescent also, and the old, must
fight to live.
Our sole weapon in this perennial
fight for life Is the blood, which must
nourish and maintain at a high state
of efficiency every cell in the body;
that is to say. every particle of the
physical organization, this being but
an aggregation of cells variously modi
fied and arranged.
Now the health of all parts depends
absolutely upon the condition of the
blood, which must keep Itself free
from poisons and contain sufficient
material for our proper nutrition. Poi
sons from without in the form of harm
ful bacteria seek always to get into
the blood stream and there to multi
ply; but healthy blood readily de
stroys these. Again, poisons are pro
duced continually within the body;
but when one 1s perfectly healthy
these, too, are destroyed or else got
rid of by the eliminating organs.
Good blood, then, is the prime nec
essary for keeping all the organs and
muscles in strong and healthy condi- i
tion; and the breathing of pure air.
together with the assimilation of a
sufficient quantity of the proper kind
of food, is necessary for good blood.
Political Breakers Ahead.
Parties are an essential part of rep
resentative government, and can be ef
fective only by organization; but
when organization degenerates into a
brutal machinery that stifles intelli
gence and true patriotism, the repub
lic is moribund. As the perfunctory
and bigoted exercise of the suffrage
has gradually extinguished much of
the manhood of American citizenship,
so the restoration of Intelligence, con
science and individual Independence
in this prime duty will be the sole ef
fective means of curing many exist
ing evils and preventing others that
might be equally dangerous.—Silas W.
Butt.
Natural Avoidance.
Mayor Gaynor of New York was de
fending his anti-suffrage views:
•‘Woman has her place and man has
his,” he said, “and when I think of
the confusion that would come from
intermingling their places, I am re
minded of an anecdote about Lady
Holland. Lady Holland once said to
Lord John Russell: ‘Why hasn't Lord
Holland got a post in the cabinet?’
‘Well, if you must know,’ Lord John
answered, ‘it is because nobody would
work in a cabinet with a man whose
wife opens all his letters.’ ”
Wheat Goes Down.
De Broker—Hear about De Curbb?
De Ledger—Xo. What’s happened
to him?
De Broker—Knocked flat.
De Ledger—You don't say? Was
he caught by the drop in wheat?
De Broker—Well, yes; somethins
like that. A barrel of flour fell on
him.
Positively Brilliant.
“Did you hear young Pounders play
ing on the piano just now?"
“Yes. I consider him a remarkable
performer.”
“How is that?"
‘‘He can hit more wrong keys in
less time than any other person I ever
saw.”
When Your Eyes Need Care a
Try Marine Eye Remedy. No Smarting—Feels
Fine—Acta Quickly. Try it for Red, Weak,
Watery Eyes and Granulated Eyelids. Illus
trated Book in each Package. Murine is
compounded by our Oculists—not a “Patent Med
icine”—but used in successful Physicians’Prac
tice for many years. Now dedicated to the Pub
lic and sold by Druggists at 26c and 60c per Bottle.
Murine Kys Sabre in Aseptic Tubes, 2f>c and 50c.
Murine Eye Remedy Co., Chicago
Out of Date.
‘‘Every time he opens his mouth he
puts his foot in it.”
“That’s a great pity. Contortionists
are no longer in demand as vaudeville
attractions.”
Stop the Pain.
The hurt of a burn or a cut stops when
Cole’s Carbollsalve Is applied. It heals
quickly and prevents scars. 25c and 50c by
druggists. For free sample write to
J. W. Cole & Co.. Black Klver Falls, Wi*
The Keynote.
Knicker—I thought simplicity wa»
to be the keynote of your gowns.
Mrs. Knicker—It is; I have simplj
got to have them.
Dr. Pierce’s Pellets, small, sugar-coated
easy to take as candy, regulate and invigor
'.te stomach, liver and bowels. Do not grips
Always hold fast to love; we win
by tenderness and conquer by for
giveness.—F. W. Robertson.
PII.ES CURED IN 6 TO 14 DAYS
Tour druggist will refund money if PAZO OINT
MENT fails to cure any case of Itching, Blind,
Bleeding or Protruding Piles in G lo 14 days. aUc.
Occasionally we meet a man whose
train of thought reminds us of a row
of flat cars.
Garfield Tea, taken regularly, will correct
both liver and kidney disorders.
Two heads are better than one—in
a cabbage patch.
WHERE DOCTORS
FAILED TO HELP
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta
ble Compound Restored
Mrs. Green's Health—
Her Own Statement.
Covington, Mo. —“Your medicine has
done me more good than all the doc
tor s medicines. At
everymonthly period
I had to stay in bed
four days because of
hemorrhages, and
my back was so weak
I could hardly walk.
I have been taking
Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Com
pound and now I can
stay up and do my
work. I think it is
the best medicine on earth for women.
—Mrs. Jennie Green, Covington, Mo.
How 3Irs. Cline Avoided
Operation.
Brownsville, Ind. —“I can say that
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound
has done me more good than anything
else. One doctor said I must be opera
ted upon for a serious female trouble
and that nothing could help me but an
operation.
“I had hemorrhages and at times
could not get any medicine to stop them.
I got in such a weak condition that I would
have died if I had not got relief soon.
“ Several women who had taken your
Compound, told me to try it and I did
and found it to be the right medicine to
build up the system and overcome
female troubles.
“Iam now in great deal better health
than I ever expected to be, so I think I
ought to thank you for it.”—Mrs. O. M.
Cune, S. Main St., Brownsville, Ind.
The Army of
Constipation
Is Growing Smaller Every Dav.
CARTER'S LITTLE ~
LIVER PILLS are
responsible — they
not only give relief A
— they perma
nently cure Cos
stipdtioa. Mil-^
lions use,
them for
^ I j QSD€ 11
Iadigesiioa, Sick Headacke' Sallow Skin.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE.
Genuine must bear Signature
THE NEW FRENCH REMEDY.so.I.So.a.No.3,
TUrDADiniU Used in French
■ nCnMnl Ull Hospitals with
great success, crons piles, kidney. bladder dis
r»SRS. CHROMIC OLCKRS. SKIN ERlPTtOSS-KITHIR SKI
B-od sldr-M neta. IRr FREE honkl-t te Dr. L. Cl-rtj.
RED. CO.. HATIBSTOCK RD„ HAMPSTEAD, LONDON, BSQ.
• Couth Ijrup. Turn Good. Cm
la too. Bold by Dnquu. _