CANADA WINS AGAIN
This Time at the International
Soil Products in Oklahoma.
Last year and the year before, and
the year before that, the farm prod
ucts of Western Canada carried off
first premiums, championships and
honours, together with medals and di
plomas, feats that were likely to give
a swelled head to any other people
than those who had so much more be
hind. At Columbus. Ohio, and then |
again at Columbia, North Carolina, a
farmer of Saskatchewan carried off
the highest prize for oats, and in an
other year, will become the possessor
of the $1,500 Colorado Trophy; anoth
er farmer made two successful ex
hibits of wheat at the biggest shows i
■ In the I'nited States; another farmer :
of Manitoba won championships and
sweepstake at the live stock show la
Chicago, and this year expects to du
plicate his successes of last year.
These winnings are the more credita
ble as none of the cattle were ever fed
any com, but raised and fattened on
nature grasses and small grains.
At the Dry Farming Congress held
at Lethbridge in 1912, Alberta and
Saskatchewan, farmers carried off
the principal prizes competing with
the world. The most recent winnings
of Canada have been made at Tulsa,
Oklahoma, where seven of the eigh
teen sweepstakes rewards at the In
ternational Soil Products Exposition
were taken by Canada in competition
with eleven states.
The chief prize, a thrashing ma
chine, valued at $1,200 for the best
bushel of hard wheat, went to Peter
Gerlack of Allan. Saskatchewan. Mon
tana took four of the sweepstakes,
Oklahoma four, and Nebraska two.
Russia sent one delegate, Spain
had two. Belgium three, China four,
Canada fifty, Mexico five, Norway one,
Brazil three.
In the district in which the wheat
was grown that won this prize, there
were thousands of acres this year that
would have done as well. Mr. Gerlack
Is to be congratulated as well as the
Province of Saskatchewan, and West
ern Canada as a whole, for the great
success that has been achieved in
both grain and cattle.—Advertisement
Those Sweeping Gestures.
“Campaigning is hard on a man’s
vocal chords.”
“Yes, but it’s fine exercise for his
arms.”
DIZZY, HEADACHY,
Gently cleanse your liver and
sluggish bowels while
you sleep.
Get a 10-cent box.
Sick headache, biliousness, dizzi
ness, coated tongue, foul taste and foul
breath—always trace them to torpid
liver; delayed, fermenting food in the
bowels or eour. gassy stomach.
Poisonous matter clogged in the in
testines, instead of being cast out
of the system is re-absorbed into the
blood. When this poison reaches the
delicate brain tissue it causes con
gestion and that dull, throbbing, sick
ening headache.
Cascarets immediately cleanse the
stomach, remove the sour, undigested
food and foul gases, take the excess
bile from the liver and carry out all
the constipated waste matter and
poisons in the bowels.
A Cascaret to-night will surely
straighten you out by morning. They
work while you 6ieep—a 10-cent box
from your druggist means your head
clear, stomach sweet and your liver
and bowels regular for months. Adv.
A Good Place.
“Here's a story of sailors raising
chickens on shipboard.’’
' Why not? There's the hatchway."
FALLING HAIR MEANS
DANDRUFFJS ACTIVE
Save Your Hair! Get a 25 Cent Bottla
of Danderine Right Now—Ai*c
Stops Itching Scalp.
Thin, brittle, colorless and scraggy
hair is mute evidence of a neglected
scalp; of dandruff—that awful scurf.
There is nothing so destructive to
the hair as dandruff. It robs the hair
of its luster, Us strength and its very
life; eventually producing a feverish
ness and itching of the scalp, which
if not remedied causes the hair roots
to shrink, loosen and die—then the
hair falls out fast. A little Danderine
tonight—now—any time—will surely
save your hair.
Get a 25 cent bottle of Knowlton's
Danderine from any store, and after
{he first application your hair will
La.Ee on that life, luster and luxuriance
which is so beautiful. It will become
wavy and fluffy and have the appear
ance of abundance; an Incomparable
gloss and softness, but what will
please you most will be after just a
few weeks’ uBe, when you will actual
ly see a lot of fine, downy hair—new
hair—growing all over the scalp. Adv.
A woman loves secrets because of
the fun she has in letting them es
cape.
8 HAKE INTO YOUR SHOES
Allan's Fool- Ease. the Antiseptic powder for Tired.
Tender, swollen, nerrons leet. Sires rest and
comfort. Makes walking a delight. Sold everywhere,
Be. Don’t accept any rjiatUute. For FEES sam
ple, address Allen A Olmsted, he Bor, N. T. Adv.
Of course right thinking people are
those who think as you do.
Red Cross Ball Brae will wash double as
many clothes as any other blue. Don't
put your money into any other. Adv.
It Is better to have loved and lost
than to pay alimony.
*
SYNOPSIS.
The etorv opens with Jesse Smith re
lating the story of his birth, early life in
Labrador and of the death of his father.
Jesse becomes a Bailor. His mother mar
nes tlie master of the ship and both are
lost In the wreck of the vessel. Jesse j
becomes a cowboy In Texas. He marries j
Polly, a singer of questionable morals. I
who later is reported to have committed
suicide Jesse becomes a rancher and
moves to British Columbia. Kate Trevor
takes up the narrative. Unhappily mar
ried she contemplates mti-’lde. but changes
her mind after meeting Jesse.
CHAPTER II.—Continued.
To judge by the hind shoes, Mrs.
Trevor's mean colt had gone down
toward the river not more’n ten min
utes ago, on the dead run, then back |
up the road at a racking out-of-breath
trot. Something must have gone !
wrong, and sure enough as I neared j
a point of rocks which hid the trail !
ahead, Jones suddenly shied hard in !
the midst of a hiccup. There was the i
Widow Bear’s track right across the
road, and Mick had to yell blue blazes
to get the other ponies past the
6mell. Ahead of me the tracks of the
Trevor colt were dancing the width
of the road, bucking good and hajd' at
the stink of bear. Then I rounded
the point of rocks.
There lay Mrs. Trevor in a heap
Since Jones would have shied over
the tree-tops at a corpse or a whifT of
blood, I knew she’d only fainted, but
felt at her breast to make sure. 1
tell you it felt like an outrage to lay
my paw on a sleeping lady, and still
worse I’d only my dirty old hat to
carry, water from a seepage in the
cliff. My heart thumped when 1 knelt
to sprinkle the water, and when that
blamed humming-bird came whirring
past my ear, I jumped as though the
devil had got me. splashing the hatful
over Mrs. Trevor. At that her eyes
opened, staring straight at my face,
but she made out a sort of smile when
she saw it was only me.
■Jesse!”
“Yes, ma'am.''
“Seen my husband?”
“No, ma'am.”
“I don't know what’s come over
him.” she moaned, clenching her
teeth; "he fired at me.”
"That gun I traded him?"
"Four shots.”
"You was running away when your
colt shied at the bear?”
"My ankle! Jesse, it hurts so dread
fully. Yes. the left.”
Mv knife ripped^ her riding-boot
clear. The old red bandana from my
neck made her a wet bandage, and the
boot top served for a splint. There
was no call to tell her the foot was
broken, and the fainting fits eased
my job. Between whiles she would
tell me to hurry, knowing that the re
turn of that damned colt would show
Trevor which way she'd run. I had
There Lay Mrs. Trevor All in a Heap
no weapon, so if Trevor happened
along with the .45 revolver it wouldn't
be healthy.
I couldn’t leave the loads of ore on
my ponies, and if I got Mrs. Trevor
mounted with her foot hanging down,
she’d lose time swooning. So I un
loaded all the poniefc except Jones and
Swift, who has a big heart for travel.
Next 1 filled one of the rawhide pan
niers with brush, and lashed it across
Jones' neck for a back rest. A wad
of pine brfish made a seat between
Jones’ panniers where I mostly carry
my grub. Hoisting Mrs. Trevor on
to the mare s back was a pretty mean
job. but worst of all I had to lash her
down. For chafing gear to keep the
ropes from scorching. I had to use
my coat, shirt, and undershirt, so that
when I mounted Swift to lead off, I’d
only boots and overalls, and Mrs. Tre
vor could see I was blushing down to
my belt. Shocked? Nothing! Great
ladies doesn't shock like common
people. No, in Epite of the pain-rack
ing and the fear-haunting, she
laughed, and it done me good. She
said I looked like Mr. Polio Belvi
deary, a dago she'd met up with in
Italy. Dagos are .swine, but the way
she spoke made me proud.
Washing day after supper.
We weren’t more than half-way
down to the river when' we beard Tre
vor surging and yelling astern, some
wheres up on the bench. At that 1
broke to a trot, telling the lady to let
out a howl the moment it hurt beyond
bearing. I wonder what amount of
pain is beyond the bearing of real
thoroughbreds? That lady would
burn before she’d even whimper.
Nearing the ferry my innard^ went
sick, for the punt was on the far
bank, the man was out of sight, and
even Jones wouldn’t propose to swim
a river with a cargo of mineral and a
deck load. As we got to- the door of
Brown's cabin. Trevor hove in sight.
I lep' to the ground, giving Jones a
hearty slap on the off quarter, which
would steer her behind Brown's cab
in: then with one jump I grabbed ol
man Brown's Winchester rifle from
its slings above the hearth, shoved
home two cartridges from the mantel,
rammed the muzzle through the win
dow-pane, which commands a view up
the trail, and proceeded to take stock
of Mr. Trevor.
The man's eyes being stark staring
mad, it was a sure fact he'd never
listen to argument. I waited, follow
ing with the rifle until the horse's
shoulder widened out, giving me a
clear aim at the heart.
The horse finished his stride, but
while I was running to the door he
crumpled and went down dead, the
carcass sliding three yards before it
stopped. As to the man, he shot a
long curve down on his back in a
splash of dust, which looked like a
brown explosion. His revolver went
further on whirling, until. a stump
touched off the trigger, and its bullet
whined over my head.
Next thing I heard was the rapids,
like a church,organ finishing a hymn,
and Mrs. Trevor's call.
'You've killed him?"
“No. ma'am, but he’s had an acci
dent. I’ll take him to the cabin for
first aid.”
Trevor was sitting up by the time
I reached him. He looked sort of
sick.
"Get up." said I, remembering to
be polite in the presence'of a lady.
"Get up, you cherub."
Instead of rising, he reached out a
flask from his pocket, and uncorked
to take a little nourishment. I flicked
the bottle into the river, and assisted
him to rise with my foot. “My poor
erring brother," said I, "please step
this way, or I'll kick your tail through
your hat.”
He said he wasn’t feeling very well,
so when I got him into the cabin, 1
let him lie on Brown's bed, lashing
him down good and hard. I gave him
a stick to bite instead of my fingers,
which is private. “Now.” said I,
"your name is Polecat. You're due
to rest right there. Mr. Polecat, until
I get the provincial constable." I
gathered from his expression that
he'd sort of taken a dislike to me.
Swift and the mare were grazing on
pine chips beside the. cabin, and Mrs.
Trevor looked wonderfully peaceful
“Your husband.” said I, "is resting.”
She gave me a wry laugh, and see
ing she was in pain. I poured water
over her foot.
"That’s better.” said she. "how good
you are to me!”
Old man Brown was coming across
with a punt, mighty peevish because
I’d dropped a horse carcass to rot at
his cabin door, and still worse when
he seen I had a lunatic roped in his
bunk. I gave him his Winchester,
which he set down by his door, also
a dollar bill, but he was still crowded
full of peevishness, wasting a lady's
time. At last I hustled the ponies
aboard the punt, and set the guide
lines so that we started out along the
cable, leaving the old man to come
or stay as he pleased. He came. Fact
is. I remembered that while I took
Mrs. Trevor to my home. I'd need a
messenger to ride for doctor, nurse,
groceries, and constable. I’m afraid
old man Brown was torn some,
catching on a nail while I lifted him
into the punt. His language was plen
tiful.
Now I thought I'd arranged 'Mrs.
Trevor and Mr. Trevor and Mr.
Brown, and added up the sum so that
old Geometry himself couldn't have
figured it better. Whereas I’d left out
the fact that Brown's bunk was nailed
careless to the wall of his cabin, as
Trevor struggled, the pegs came
adrift, the bed capsized, the rope
slacked, and the polecat, breaking
loose, found Brown's rifle. I’d led
the ponies out of the punt, and was
instructing Brown, when the polecat
let drive at me from across the river.
With all his faults he could shoot
good, for his Qrst grazed my scalp,
half blinding me. At that the lady
attracted attention by screaming,-' so
the third shot stampeded poor Jones.
I ain't religious, being only thirty,
and not due to reform this side of
[ rheumatism, but all the sins I've en
joyed was punished sudden and com
plete in that one minute. Blind with
blood, half stunned, and reeling sick,
I heard the mare as she plunged along
the bank dispensing boulders. No
top-heavy cargo was going to -stand
that strain without coming over, so
the woman I loved—yes, 1 knew- that
now for a fact—was going to be
| dragged until her brains were kicked
• ' _ _
Galloped Mr. Swift on Rolling Boul-1
ders Steep as a Roof.
out by the mare. It seemed to me
ages before I could rouse my senses,
wipe my eyes, and mount the gelding.
When sight and sense came back, I
was riding as I had never dared to
ride in all my life, galloped Mr. Swift
on rolling boulders steep as a roof and
all a-slither. I got Swift sidewise up
the bank, to grass, raced past the
mare, then threw Swift in front of
Jones. Down went the mare just as
her load capsized, so that she and the
lady, Swift and I, were all mixed up
in a heap.
My little dog Mick was lipking my
I scalp when I woke, and it seemed fo
' me at first that something must have
i gone wrong. My head was between
I two boulders, with the mare’s shoul
| der pressing my nose, my legs were
I under water, and somewhere close
j around were roaring rapids. Swift
i was scrambling for a foothold, and
I Mrs. Trevor shouting for all she was
worth. I waited till Swift cleared out,
and the lady quit for breath.
“Yes, ma'am," says I.
“Oh, say you’re not dead, Jesse!”
“Only in parts,” said I. "and how
I are you?”
“I’m cutting the ropes, but oh. this
| knife's so blunt!”
“Don’t spoil your knife. Will you
! do what I say?”
“Of course I will.”
j “Reach out then-on the off side of
| the load. The end of that lashing s
fast to the after-basket line.”
When I'd explained that two or
three times, “1 have it,” she answered.
“Loose!”
“Pull on the fore line of the dia
mond.”
"Right. Oh. Jesse, I’m free!"
’’Kneel on the mare's head, reach
under the pannier, find the latego, and
cast off.”
She fumbled awhile, and then re
ported all clear.
“Get off the mare.”
In another moment Jones was
standing up to shake herself, knee
deep in the river, and with a slap I'
sent her off to join Swift at the top
of the bank. Mrs. Trevor was sitting
on a boulder, staring out over the
rapids, her eyes set on something
coming down mid-stream. Her face
was all gra|, and she clutched my
hand, holding like grim death. As for
me, I’d never reckoned that even a
madman would try to swim the Fraser
in clothes and boots.
LESSEN PAIN OF POISON IVY
Some Remedies Those Liable to In
fection Will Do Well to Keep
in the Memory.
Pusey says: “Poison ivy is a trail
ing green vine with handsome, bright
green foliage, which turns a brilliant
yellow to red in early autumn (and
is very tempting, by the way. to col
lectors of autumn leaves). It is very'
easly distinguished from other simi
lar looking vines by the fact that its
leaves occur in groups of three on a
stem, and not five.
“It and other poisonous plants are
most irritating when moist, and should
especially be avoided in the early
morning, when wet with dew.
“After exposure to poison ivy the
111 effects can be warded oS by prompt
removal of the irritating substance
This can be done by vigorously wash
ing with soap and water, preferably
using a hand brush, and, after that,
with alcohol. If these measures are
carried out before the effects on the
skin become manifest, the usual re
action the skin can, as a rule, be
entirely, or in great part, prevented.
And even after dermatitis has begun
it can often be reduced to slight in
tensity and cut short by the same
measures.
“Of course after irritation nas be
come intense vigorous, washing o£ th£
surface cannot be done, and sponging
with alcohol is painful^ To relieve
the itching, sponging wiyifcool water,
or. distilled extract of hammers
(witch hazen) followed by an applica
tion of dusting powder, Is comforting
Salves, as a rule, are not Well borndi
Consider the Dew.
The question is often asked: Does
the dew rise or fall? Dewfall is as
admissible an expression as sunrise or
sunset, says Harper’s Weekly. In
both cases the expression is at vari
ance with scientific fact. Meterologi-’
cally, the formation of dew is not ac
companied by motion in the vertical
plane, hence there can be no question
of rise or fall, trader certain condlt
tions of wind, cloud and temperature
; variants, dew is produced. Warm a-'
charged with moisture comes in «
| tact with a cooler surface. When.
this contact, the heat is subtracted
from the air and the saturation point
for that temperature is reached, thai
moisture which is in the air has ex
isted as water - vapor, is condensed
upon the cooler surface at the point of
contact. The dewdrop, also good;Eng
lish, although false physics, has no ex
istence in the air, but comes Into be
ing upon the surface bedewed. It does
not fall, nor does it drop.
Smoked and Wrote In Comfort.
\ Inveterate smokers do funny things,
says the. Family Doctor. Carlyle
smoked np the chimney with a de
gree of thoughtfulness for the feelings
of others not universal in his conduct.
The famous Bishop Burnet, who. like
many another author, found composi
tion facilitated by puffings of the se
ductive weed, disliked the interruption
of removing his pipe constantly while
he was writing. In order-to combine
the two operations with due comfort
to himself he bored a hole through the
broad brim of his hat, and putting his
long pipe through it, polled and wrote
and puffed ' with the most philosophi
cal calm. *
_2_ "
'1 can’t hear ft!” she cried, turning
her lace away. “Tell me—”
“I guess,” said I, feeling mighty
grave, “you’re due to become a
widow.”
The rapids got Trevor, and I
watched.
“You are a widow,” says I, at last.
She fainted.
There, I’m dead sick of writing this
letter, and my wrist is all toothache.
JESSE.
CHAPTER III.
Love.
Kate's Xarrative.
I married Lionel Trevor in the days
when he looked like a god as Parsifal,
sang like an angel, had Europe at his
feet. V. “Something wrong with Eu
rope," is Jesse’s comment. “West of
the Rockies we don’t use such, except
to sell their skins.”
When Lionel lost his voice—more
to him than are horse and gun to
Jesse—he would not ask me to follow
him into the wilderness but tried to
persuade me to stay on in London. 1
was singing “Eurydice" in “Orfeo," 1
my feet, thanks tp Lionel, were at last
on the great ladder, and if I was am
bitious, who shall blame me? Yet
for better, for worse, we were mar
ried, and here among the pines, in
this celestial air, a year or two' at !
the most would give him back his
voice. My place was at his side, for
better or worse, and when he drank,
when day by day I watched the light |
of reason give place in his eyes to j
bestial vice, until at last I found my
self chained to a maniac—till death do
us part—it was then 1 first, saw Jesse,
the one man whose eyes showed un
derstanding. •
I can’t write about that day when
Lionel, a thing possessed of devils, j
hunted me through the woods like a
bear. I'doubt if I remember all that
happened. I must have been crazed
with pain and fear until suddenly 1
woke up on a boulder by that awful
river, and saw him drift past me,
caught in the rapids, drowning. I
would have shouted I was so glad,
until he saw me, and dying as he was,
looked at me with Lionel’s clear sane
eyes.
I fainted, and when I awoke again
in the dusk. Jesse bent over me.
That night and for three weeks aft
erward. I lay delirious. At the ferry
man's cabin he made me a bed of
pine boughs, until my household stuff
and the Chinese servant could be
brought down from the ranch. He
sent Surly Brown to bring Doctor Mc
Gee. and the Widow O’Flvnn as my
nurse, while her son Billy was hired
to do his pack-train work. FYom that
time onward the pack outfit carried
cargoes of ore from the mine, and
loads from Hundred Mile House of
every comfort and luxury which
money could buy for me. When I got
well. 1 found that Jesse had spent the
savings of years, and had not a dol
lar left.
When at last I crept out of doors
to bask in the autumn sunlight, the
cottonwoods and aspens were changed
to lemon, the sumac to crimson, the
fallen needles of the pines clothed
the slopes with orange, and a mist of
milky blue lay In the canon.
Jesse had arranged with lawyers for
the probate of Lionel’s will, and set
tlement of hi6 debts, which would
leave me nothing. As far as Jesse
knew, I was penniless, and to this
day I have never dared acknowledge
that, secured from the extravagance
of my late husband. I have capital
bringing in some seven thousand five
hundred dollars a year. Jesse sup
posed me to be destitute, and when 1
spoke of returning to my work in
Europe, offered to raise the money for
my passage. - Knowing :his ranch to
be mortgaged already to its-full value.
I wondered what limit there was to
this poor man's valor. Yes, I would
accept, assuring him of svrift "repay
ment. yet dared not •• tell him ..the
wages offered me at^Covent yGffden.
It seemed indecent .that a womiafs
voice should be valued at more-'^r
week than his heroic earnings for a
year.
I sang to him. simple emotianal mu
sic: Grfeo's lament, the finale of "II
Trovatore," the angel song from Cho
pin's "Marche FMnebre.” a' -»
I wonder why women make It so
important that a man should propose?
It needed no telling that Jesse and I
were in love. It seemed only natural
that we should marry, and any pre
tense of mourning for the late Mr.
Trevor would have been distasteful.
Although born in the Labrador,
Jesse hadv been a cow-boy in Texas
for half his working life. As a stock
man, he was to wed a rancher's
widow. Was he ashamed of his busi
ness? Xo, proud as Lucifer! Was
he ashamed of the dress of his trade?
Xot by a damned sight! Soldiers and
sailors are proud to wear the dress
of their trade when they marry. "So
are cow punchers.” said he. with his
head in the air. “S’pose we ride to
Cariboo City, and get married in that
little old log church.”
He managed to persuade me: and I
consented also to a hunting trip, in
stead of the usual honeymoon.
Wh/n I was well enough for the
journey. I rode my colt, and Jesse
his demon mare—Jones—my sole ri
val, I think except that dreadful
bear, in his affections. Two pack
ponies carried our camp and baggage,
and each night«• he would set up a
little tent for me, bedding himself
down beside the fire. At the end of
five days' journey, we rode at dusk
into Cariboo. - . -
Captain Taylor, of Hundred Mile
House, and Pete Mathson. the carga
dor of the Star Pack-train, two old
stanch friends of Jesse, witnessed our
marriage in the quaint log building
which served as church and school
house.
Captain Taylor is a retired naval
officer, a pioneer of the gold mines,
a magistrate, a man to trust, and
when he gave me his heartfelt ion
gratulations. It was not without
knowledge of Jesse’s character. He
and Pete, the cargador, rode with us
to the camp of his Star Pack-train,
and it was there in the forest that we
ate our wedding-breakfast. We drank
the healths in champagne from tin
cups, and then, saddling up. Jesse
and I rode away alone into the soli
tudes.’
CHAPTER IV.
The Landlord.
Kate's Narratire.
Of his life before he reached this
province Jesse will so far tell me
nothing, yet his speech betrays him.
for under the vivid dialect of the
stock range, there is a streak of sail
or, and beneath that I detect traces
of brogue which may be native per
haps to Labrador. Out of a chaos of
books he has pecked words which
pleased him. pronounced, of course,
to suit himself, and used in some
sense which would shock any dic
tionary.
His manners and customs, too, are
a field for research. Of course one
expects him to be professional with
rope, gun. and ax. but how did he
learn the rest? I wanted a lantern—
he made one: my boot was torn—tve
made one: my water-proof coat was
ruined—he made one: and if 1
asked for a sewing-machine, he would
refuse to move camp until he had one
finished. If his name were not Smith
I could prove him directly descended
from the Swiss family Robinson. If
a project sounds risky, I have to as
sume that it is something unusually
safe, as the only way to keep him out
of danger. If I should ever wish to
be a widow', I have only to doubt his
power to fly without wings.
Guided by his uncanny woodcraft,
I began to meet the parishioners,
mountain • sheep and goats, the elk
and caribou, eagles, bears, wolverines,
and certainly I shared something of
Jesses untiring delight in all wild
creatures Even when we needed
meat in camp, and some plump goose
or mallard was at the mercy of his
gun, Jesse would sometimes beg the
victim off,-and catch more trout. ’’So
long as they don’t hunt us,’’ he would
say, “I’d rather tote your camera than
my 'gun. But thar’s that dog-gone
beaver down the crick, he tried to
Each Night He Would Set Up a Little
Tent for Me.
bite me yesterday again. If he don’t
tame himaelf. I’ll slap his face. Thinks
he’s editor."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
His Skill a Natural Gift.
James Oran, who astonished the
world by his reproduction of flowers
in his Belgian blacksmith shop, works
at a forge in Cranfield, N. J. Not long
ago he was doing common blacksmith
ing work. Art critics say that he has
gone much closer to nature in his
work than Van Boeckel. He uses no
models, and works with only the sim
plest tools. He began his apprentice
ship as a blacksmith in Scotland at
the age of eighteen, but since 1896
has lived in this country, where he
was one of the first men to make an
iron golf club.
Enormous Irrigation Profits.
The Assouan dam and other irriga
tion works in Egypt have cost about
$53,000,000; but the increase in value
of land in middle and lower Egypt
and the Fay gum provinces has been
from $955,000,000 to $2,440,000,000.
The total rent of this land has risen
from $82,000,000 to $190,000,000.
CONDUCTRESSES ON BUS LINE
. . i ,_* *
Brooklyn .-Suggestion Stirs the Imagi
nation of Possible Passengers,
Anyhow.
Conductresses are to ring up the
far-*s on one of the new Brooklyn bus
lines which- are to supplement our
transportation facilities—if the board
of estimate consents.
One of the lines seeking a franchise
announces that to do the conducting
only girls need apply. They didn’t say
pretty girls, but let us hope that pretty
girls are meant. If she should step on
our toes while reaching for the bell
rope, her light weight and gracious
apoltgies will make us happy to have
been in the way.
For she must be thin waisted in or
der to squeeze by comfortably. And
we shall insist that she set a common
sense fashion in ^he matter of hatpins.
Nor can she be permitted to knot her
small change in a handkerchief or to
carry her bills in the unconventional
manner favored by some women shop
pers. Moreover, the company must
insist that ns stops shall be made in
front of candy stores. It is bad
enough to wait while the conductor
gulps a beer. No passenger should be
.expected to. bide the conductress’ con
sumption of an ice cream soda.
No Judge of Scenery.
The late Bishop Doane of Albany
hated socialism, and at a dinner in Al
bany he once said:
"‘The Socialist, who abhors aristoc
racy and superiority and elegance, ia
as misguided and wrong-headed as the
miner who went through HeH'J Glen.
“Hell’s Glen, between Glasgow ana
Invegary, is one of the most pio
turesque and rugged pieces of scenery
in all Scotland.
"Well, a miner once drove through
the glen in a coach, and, while hia
companions went into raptures over
the wild, weird, awe-inspiring features
of the place, the miner yawned over
hlE cigar and newspaper.
“‘Don’t you like Hell’s Glen, Birr
the driver asked, at a .particularly pre
cipitous and striking spot.
“ ‘Why,’ grunted the miner 1 guess
it's all right, but I can’t seen none of
the Bcenery for these darned bilU.’ ”
CHILDREN LOVE
SYRUPOF FIGS
it is cruel totforce nauseating,
harsh physic into a
sick child.
Look back at your childhood days,
Remember the "dose” mother insi^tei|
on—castor oil, calomel, cathartics.
How you hated them, how you fought
against taking them.
With our children it’s different.
Mothers who 'fcliug to the old form of
physic simply don’t realize what they
do. The children’s revolt is well-found
ed. Their tender little "insides” are
injured by them.
If your child's stomach, liver and
bowels need cleansing, give only deli
cious “California Syrup of Figs.” Its
action is positive, but gentle. Millions
of mothers keep this harmless “fruit
laxative” handy; they know children
love to take it; that it never fails to
clean the liver and bowels and sweet
en the stomach, and that a teaspoonful
given toi:a.v saves a sick child tomor
row.
Ask at the store for a 50-cent bottle
of “California Syrup of Figs,” which
has full directions for babies, children
of all ages and for grown-ups plainly
on each bottle. Adv.
The Result.
'T forgot to buy the curtains my
wife asked me to get her.”
“What was the result?”
’ A curtain lecture.”
Stubborn Colds and irritated Bronchial
I ubes art easilj relieved by Dean's Men
tholated Cough Drops—5c at Druggists.
You'll always have a dull ax if yon
wait for a volunteer to turn the grind
stone.
Red (Voss Ball Blue, all blue, best bluing
value in the whole world, makes the laun
dress smile. Adv.
Most financial disasters result from
trying to make money fast.
Be Thankful
If you are able to eat without dis
tress and your liver and bowels
are daily active, but to those not
“in this class” we urge a trial of
HOSTETTER’S
Stomach Bitters
! *
It is compounded especially*
for relieving such ills as Poor
Appetite, Weak Digestion, Con
stipation, Biliousness, Colds and
Grippe. Try a bottle today.
A Personal Question
With You
The main thing with breakfast it
coffee, and it must be good coffee.
Your whole day depends on your
having Paxton’s Gas Roasted if
you would feel your best
Paxton’s
Gas Roasted Coffee
contains no bitter berries to spoil
your cup of good cheer.
The
Great BPVlllnfll
Morning
Tonic
Bed Cans #1 3
At
Your
Grocers
J
The Typewriter
for the Rural
Business Man
Ball Boating
Long Woaring
1. 1 * _ _
w netner you are a
small town rqerchant
or a farmer, you need
a typewriter.
If you are writing
your letters and bills
. * .a • t • «
I by hand, you are not getting full
i efficiency.
It doesn’t require an expert oper
I ator to run the h. C. Smith & Bros.
; typewriter. It is simple, compact,
l complete, durable.
Send in the attached coupon and
we will give' especial attention to
j your typewriter needs.
I ......
: L. C. Smith & Bros. Typewriter Co.,
Z Syracuse, N.Y. :
Please send me your tree book about Z
i : typewriters. :
j ; Name....:.,. -
: . :
j .................... j\..................
! Pais in Back and Rheumatism
are the daily torment of thousands. To ef
fectually cure these troubles you must re
move the cause. Foley Kidney Pills begii
to work for you from the first dose, and
ert so direct and beneficial an action in
kidneys and bladder that the pain and tar
cidney trouble soon disappear