The Hollow ♦ ♦ ♦ & ♦ of Her Hand ^George Barr McCutcheon COPYMCf/r./9/2 BY GtOKGT&KK ttCUTCMrOSr : COTyWO/Z MB BY PODD,ffFAD COMPAA Y SYNOPSIS. f~S.»:r.a YrtaNN . found murjond In • • » i kmn naur Xnw York Un Yrm N to ««»««»»< lru» (hr cftr and ldrn t!*r« ;!« body * yum* woman who 1C ora pwli a W randall to Uv Inn and * jb ttvrmh d'awt:~-a'id to auapratad. w nfifcilt. ft »(ynrt had lad a ray ilfa a» i -irto iad hto • l«. Mrs \Vrar.-1aH >;.rta •— » t -r X«r York tot an aolo dor tod a MMIaf ia»w nena On Uw wav *' »rf> a ym»-rs « .man In the road H■ the occasion of his first visit, Leslie had met the guest in the house. The second time be called, he made it a point to ask Sara all about her. It was he who gently closed the door after the two women when, on the morning of the funeral, they en tered the dark. Sower-laden room in wt i b sto -4 the casket containing the body of his brother. He left them ak»n< together in that room for half an hour or more, and it was he who went forward to meet them when they came forth. Sara leaned on his arm as she ascended the stairs to the room where the others were waiting. The ashen faced girl followed. Mr*. Wrandali, the elder, kissed Sara mad drew her down beside her ca ifce couch To her own surprise, as well as that of the others. Sara broke do we and wept bitterly. After all. abe was sorry for Challls mother. It was the human instinct, she could not bu.d out against it. And the older woman put away the ancient grudge she hr id at*, net this mortal enemy and dissolved into tears of real com pas* ion. A little later she whispered broken ly la Sara s ear "My dear, my dear, this has brought vm together. I hope you will learn to love me." Sara caught her breath but uttered no ward. She looked into her mother la law's ey**. and smiled through her tears The Wrandali*. looking on In atrase. saw the smile reflected in the lace of the older woman. Then It was that Vivian crossed quickly and put her arms shout tbs shoulders of her •tsidr is law. The whits flag on both •ides Hetty i'astVton stood alone and wa vering. Just inside the door. No •iranger situation could be imagined (has tbu «ne in which this unfortunate girl found herself at the present mo geat. She was virtually in the hands •f t‘ we who would destroy her; she vra* a the house of those who most d •; iy were affected by her act on that fatal night. Among them ^11 she gt eod. facing them, listening to the nu aa> sad sobs, and yet her limbs did not give way beneath her. . . . Sotne one gently touched her arm. ft was Leslie. She shrank back, a fearful look tn her eyes in the semi darkness he failed to note the cypres- | •tom "Wont you *U here”* he asked, in ! dt the itile pink divan against | the a*U. "Korrtve me for letting you ' ■tanj so long." She longed about b»*r. the wild light r* I in f.cr <-}** the was like a rat tn a trap. Her lip* parted, but the word of than** *iid not come forth. A strange. Inarticulate sound, almost a gasp, came instead. Pallid as a ghost, she dropped limply to the divan, and dug her htigers into the satiny seat. As If fascinated, she stared over the black hands of the threw women imme diately tn front of her at the full length portrait hanging where the tight from the hall fell upon It: the portrait of a daahing youth in riding ] A moment Satsr Sara Wrandali came Over and sat beside her. The girl shivered as with s mighty chill when the warm hand of her friend fell upon her* and enveloped It is a Arm clasp. "His mother kissed me." whispered Sara "Did you see?" The girt could not reply. She could •cl.* stare at the open door A small, hatchet-Cared man had come np from bek»« and was nodding his head to Leslie Wrandali—a man with short ■ids whiskers, and a sepulchral look tn his eyes Then, having received s ■torn from Leslie he tiptoed sway. Al most instantly the voices of people staging softly came from some distant ■emote pan at the house. And then, a little later, the per fectly modulated voice of a man in Beck of her. Wrandali#; beside her. WrandaUa; beneath her. friends of the WrmndaUs; outside, the rabble, those Mho would Join with these black. 1 raven like specters In tearing her to piece* if they but knew! The droning voice came up from be low, each well-chosen word distinct and clear: tribute beautiful to the irre proachable character of the deceased, i^etlie watched the face of the girl, curlouely fascinated by the set, emo tionless features. and yet without a conscious interest in her. He was dully sensible to the fact that she was beautiful, uncommonly beautiful. It did not occur to him to feci that she was out of place among them, that she belonged down stairs. Somehow she was a part of the surroundings, like the specter at the feast. If he could have witnessed all that transpired while Sara was In the room below with her guest—her companion, as he had come to regard her without having in fact been told as much—he would have been lost in a maze of the most overwhelming emotions. To go back: The door had barely closed behind the two women when Hetty’s trembling knees gave way be neath her. With a low moan of hor ror. she slipped to the floor, covering her face with her hands. Sara knelt beside her. "Come." the said gently, but firmly; "1 must exact this much of you. If w e are to go on together, as we have planned, you must stand beside me at his bier. Together we must look upon him for the last time. You must see him as I saw him up there in the i ountry. 1 had my cruel blow that night. It is your turn now. I will not blame you for what you did. But If you expect me to go on believing that you did a brave thing that night, you must convince me that you are not a coward now. It ie the only test I shall put yon to. Come; I know it is hard, I know it is terrible, but it is the true test of your ability to go through with it to the end. I shall know then that you have the courage to face anything that may come up." She waited a long time, her hand on the girl's shoulder. At last Hetty arose. "You are right." she said hoarsely. "I should not be afraid.” Later on they sat over against the wall beyond the casket, into which they had peered with widely varying emotions. Sara had said: “You know that I loved him." The girl put her hands to her eyes and bowed her bead. “Oh. how can you be so merciful to me?" •‘Because he was not." said Sara, white-lipped. Hetty glanced at the half-averted face with queer, indescrib able expression in her eyes. If Leslie Wrandall could have looked in upon them at that moment, or at any time during the half an hour that followed, he would have known who was the slayer of his brother, but it is doubtful if he could have had the heart to denounce her to the world. When they were ready to leave the room Hetty had regained control of her nerves to a most surprising extent, a condition unmistakably due to the influence of the older woman. T can trust myself now, Mrs. Wran dall." said Hetty steadily as they hes itated for an instant before turning the knob of the door. "Then I shall ask you to open the door.” said Sara, drawing back. Without a word or a look. Hetty opened the door and permitted the other to pass out before her. Then she followed, closing it gently, even deliberately, but not without a swift glance over her shoulder Into the depths of the room they were leaving. Of the two, Sara Wrandall was the paler as they went up the broad stair case with Leslie. The funeral oration by the Rev Dr. Maltby dragged on. Among all his hearers there was but one who be lieved the things he said of Challis \\ randall, and she was one of two per sons who. 6o they saying goes, are Hetty's Trembling Knees Gave Way Beneath Her. the last to find a man out; his mother and his sister. But in this Instance the mother was alone. The silent, attentive guests on the lower floor listened in grim approval: Dr. Maltby was doing himself proud. Not one but all of them knew that Maltby knew. And yet how soothing he was. • ••••• • By the end of the week the murder of Challls Wrandall was forgotten by all save the police. The inquest was over, the law was baffled, the city was serenely waiting for its next sensa tion. No one cared. Leslie Wrandall went down to the steamer to see his sister-in-law oS for Europe. “Goodby, Miss Castleton,” he said, as he shook the hand of the slim young Englishwoman at parting. "Take good care of Sara. She needs a friend, a good friend, now. Keep her over there until she baa—forgotten.” CHAPTER V. Discussing a Sister-In-Law. "You remember my sister-in-law, don’t you. Brandy?" was the question that Leslie Wrandall put to a friend one afternoon, as they 6at.drearily in a window of one of the fashionable up town clubs, a little more than a year after the events described in the fore going chapters. Drearily, I have said, for the reason that it was Sunday, and raining at that "I met Mrs. Wrandall a few years ago In Rome.” said his companion, re newing interest In a conversation that had died some time before of its own exhaustion. "She’s most attractive. I saw her but once. I think It was at somebody's fete.” "She's returning to New York the end of the month,” said Leslie. ’’Been abroad for over a year. Sbe had a villa at Nice this winter." “I remember her quite well. I was of an'age then to be particularly sen sitive to female loveliness. If I’d been staying on in Rome, I should have screwed up the courage. I’m sure, to have asked her to sit for me.” Brandon Booth was of an old Phila delphia family: an old and wealthy family. Both views considered, he was qualified to walk hand in glove with the fastidious Wrandalls. Leslie’s mother was charmed with him be cause she was also the mother of Viv ian. The fact that he went in for por trait painting and seemed averse to subsisting on the generosity of his father, preferring to live by his tal ent, in no way operated against him, so far as Mrs. Wrandall was con cerned." That was his lookout, not hers; if be elected to that sort of thing, all well and good. He could afford to be eccentric; there remained, in the perspective he scorned, the bulk of a huge fortune to offset whatever idiosyncrasies he might choose to cul- j tivate. Some day. in spite of himself, she* contended serenely, he would be very, very rich. What could be more desirable than fame, family and for tune all heaped together and thrust upon one exceedingly interesting and : handsome young man? He had been the pupil of celebrated 1 draftsmen and painters in Europe, and bad exhibited a sincerity of purpose that was surprising, all things con- ' sidered. The mere fact that he was not obliged to paint in order to obtain a living was sufficient cause for won-1 der among the artists he met and j studied with or under. His studio in New York was not a , fashionable resting place. It was a workshop. You could have tea there, ! of course, and you were sure to meet ; people you knew and liked, but it was quite as much of a workshop as any j you could mention. He was not a j dabbler in art, not a mere dauber of j pigments: he was an artist. Booth was thirty—perhaps a year or two older; tall, dark and good look ing. The air of the thoroughbred marked him. He did not affect loose, flowing cravats and baggy trousers, nor was he careless about his finger nails. He was simply the ordinary, every-day sort of chap you would meet in Fifth avenue during parade hours, and you would take a second look at him because of his face and manner but not on account of his dress. Some of his ancestors came over ahead of the Mayflower, but he did not gloat. Leslie Wrandall was his closest friend and harshest critic. It didn’t really matter to Booth what Leslie said of his paintings: he quite under stood that he didn't know anything about them. "When does Mrs. Wrandall return?’’ asked the painter, after a long period of Silence spent in contemplation of the gleaming pavement beyond the club's window. "That’s queer.” said Leslie, looking up. ”1 was thinking of Sara myself. She sails next week. I've had a let ter asking me to open her house in the country. Her place is about two miles from father’s. It hasn’t been opened in two years. Her father built It fifteen or twenty years ago. and left it to her when he died. She and Challls spent several summers there.” "Vivian took me through it one aft ernoon last summer.” “It must have been quite as much of a novelty to her as it was to you. old chap,” said Leslie gloomily. "What do you mean?” "Vivian's a bit of a snob. She never liked the place because old man Gooch built it out of worsteds. She never went there.” * "But the old man's been dead^for years.” "That doesn’t matter. The fact is, Vivian didn't quite take to Sara until after—well, until after Challis died. We’re dreadful enobs. Brandy, the whole lot of us. Sara was quite good enough for a much better man than my brother. She really couldn’t help the worsteds, you know. I’m very fond of her, and always have been. We’re pals. *Gad, it was a fearful slap at the home folks when Challis justi fied Sara by getting snuffed out the way he did." Booth made an attempt to change the subject, but Wrandall got back to it. “Since then we’ve all been exceed ingly sweet on Sara. Not because we want to be, mind you, but because we’re afraid she'll marry some chap who wouldn't be acceptable to us." "I should consider that a very neat way out of it," said Booth coldly. “Not at all. You see, Challis waa fond of Sara, In spite of everything. He left a will and under it she came in for all he had. As that Includes a third interest in our extremely refined and irreproachable business, it would be a deuce of a trick on ns if she mar ried one of the common people and set him up amongst us, willy-nilly. We don't want strange bedfellows. We’re too snug—and I might say, too smug. Down In her heart mother ie saying to herself It would be just like Sara to get even with us by doing just that sort of a trick. Of course Sara is rich enough without accepting a sou under the will, but she's a canny person. She hasn't handed it back to us on a silver platter, with thanks; still, on the other hand, she refuses to meddle. She makes us feel pretty small. She wont sell out to us. She just sits tight. That's what gets under the skin with mother." “I wouldn't say that, Les, If 1 were in your place.” “It Is a rather priggish thing to say. Isn't itr* “Rather." “You see, I'm the only one who really took sides with Sara. I forget myself sometimes. She was such a brick, all those years.'' Bcxfth was silent for a moment, not ing the reflective look in his compan ion's eyes. "1 suppose the police haven’t given “You Must Play the Game, Hetty.” up the hope that sooner or later the— j er—the woman will do something to I give herself away,” said he. "'They don't take any stock in my i theory that she made way w ith herself the same night. I was talking with the chief yesterday. He says that anyone who had wit to cover up her tracks as she did, is not the kind to make way with herself. Perhaps he's right. It sounds reasonable. ’Gad, I felt sorry for the poor girl they had up last spring. She went through the third degree, if ever anyone did, but, ■ by Jove, she came out of it all right. The Aehtley girl, you remember. I’ve dreamed about that girl, Brandy, and i what they put her through. It’s a sort of nightmare to me, even when I'm awake. Oh, they’ve questioned others as well, but she was the only one to have the screws twisted in just that way." “Where is she now?" “She’s comfortable enough now. When I wrote to Sara about what she'd been through, she settled a neat bit of money on her, and she’ll never want for anything. She'6 out west somewhere, with her mother and sis ters. I tell you, Sara’s a wonder. She’s got a heart of gold.” “I look forward to meeting her, old man." “I was with her for a few; weeks thia winter. In Nice, you know. Viv ian stayed on for a week, but mother had to get to the baths. 'Gad. I be lieve she hated to go. Sara's |ot a most adorable girl staying with her. A daughter of Colonel Castleton, and she's connected in some way with the Murgatroyds—old Lord Murgatroyd, you know. I think her mother was a niece of the old boy. Anyhow, mother and Vivian have taken a great fancy to her. That’s proof of the pudding.” “I think Vivian mentioned a com panion of some sort." tou wouldn t exactly call her a companion," said Leslie. “She’s got ; money to burn, I take it. Quite keeps up with Sara In making it fly, and that's saying a good deal for her resources. I think it’s a pose on her part, this calling herself a companion. An Eng lish joke, eh? As a matter of fact, she’s an old friend of Sara's and my brother’s too. Knew them In England. Most delightful girl. Oh, I say, old man, she’s the one for you to paint.” Leslie waxed enthusiastic. "A type, a positive type. Never saw 6uch eyes in all my life. Dammit, they haunt you. You dream about ’em.” “You seem to be hard hit,” said Booth indifferently. He was watching the man in the “slicker” through moody eyes. “Oh, nothing ii!:e that,” disclaimed Leslie with unnecessary promptness. “But if I were given to that 6ort of thing, I’d be bowled over in a minute. Positively adorable face. If I thought you had it in you to paint a thing as it really is I'd commission you myself to do a miniature for me, just to hpve it around where I could pick it up when I liked and hold It between my hands, just as I've often wanted to hold the real thing.” • ••••• • Sara Wrandall returned to New York at the end of the month, and Leslie met her at the dock, as he did on an occasion fourteen months ear lier. Then she came in on a fierce gale from the wintry Atlantic; this time the air was soft and balmy and sweet with the kindness of spring. It was May and the sea was blue, the lahd was green. ▲gain she went to the small, exclu sive hotel near the park. Her apart ment was closed, the butler and his wife and all of their hastily recruited company being in the country, await ing her arrival from town. Leslie at tended to everything. He lent his re sourceful man servant and hip motor to his lovely sister-in-law, and saw to it that his mother and Vivian sent fltfwers to the ship. Redmond Wren dall called at the hotel immediately after banking hours, kissed his daugh ter-in-law, and delivered an ultimatum second-hand from the power at home: she was to come to dinner and bring Miss Castleton. A little quiet family dinner, you. know, because they were all in mourning, he said in conclusion, vaguely realizing all the while that it really wasn’t necessary to supply the information, but, for the life of him. uuable to think of anything else to say under the circumstances. Some how it eeemed to him that while Sara was in black she was not in mourning in the same sense that the rest of them were. It seemed only right to acquaint her with the conditions in his household. And he knew that he de served the scowl that Leslie bestowed upon him. Sara accepted, much to his surprise and gratification. He had been rather dubious about it. It would not have surprised him in the least if she bad declined the invitation, feeling, as he did, that he had in a way come to her with a white flag or an olive branch or whatever it is that a combative force utilizes when it wants to sur render in the cause of humanity. As soon as they were alone Hetty turned to her friend. “Oh. Sara, can’t you go without me? Tell them that I am ill—suddenly ill. I—I don't think it right or honorable of me to accept—’’ Sara shook her head, and the words died on the girl’s lips. "You must play the game, Hetty.” "It's—very hard,” murmured the other, her face very white and bleak. “I know, my dear,” said Sara gently. "If they should ever find out.” gasped the girl, suddenly giving way to the dread that had been lying dor mant all these months. "They will never know the truth unless you choose to enlighten them,” said Sara, putting her arm about the girl’s shoulders and drawing her close. "You never cease to be wonderful. Sara—so very wonderful,” cried the girl, with a look of worship in her eyes. Sara regarded her in sllenct for a moment, reflecting. Then, with a swift rush of tears to her eyes, she cried fiercely: "You must never, never tell me all that happened, Hetty! Ycfu must not speak it with your own li£s.” Hetty’s eyes grew dark with pain and wonder. "That is the thing I can't under stand in you. Sara.” she said slowly. “We must not speak of it!” Hetty’s bosom heaved. "Speak of it!” she cried, absolute agony in her voice. "Have I not kept it locked in my heart since that awful day—” "Hush!” "I shall go mad If I cannot talk with you about—” “No, no! It is the forbidden sub ject! I know all that I should know— all that I care to know. We nave not said so much as this In months—in ages, it 6eems. Let sleeping dogs lie We are better off. my dear. 1 coulo not touch your lips again." "I—I can’t bear the thought ot that!” "Kiss me now. Hetty.” "I could die for you. Sara,” cried Hetty, as she impulsively obeyed the command. "I mean that you shall live for me. said Sara, hmiling through her tears “How silly of me to cry. It must be the room we are in. These are the same rooms, dear, that you came to on the night we met. Ah, how old I feel!” "Old? You say that to me? i am ages and ages older than you," cried Hetty, the color coming back to her soft cheeks. “You are twenty-three." “And you are twenty-eight” Sara had a far-away look in her eyes. "About your size and figure,” said she, and Hetty did not compre hend. CHAPTER VI. Southlook. Sara Wrandall's house in the coun try stood on a wooded knoll overlook ing the sound. It was rather remotely located, so far as neighbors were con cerned. Her father, Sebastian Gooch, shrewdly foresaw the day when land in this particular section of the sub urban world would return dollars for pennies, and wisely bought thousE-nds of acres: woodland, meadowUnd, beachland and hills, inserted between the environs of New York city and the rich towns up the coast. Y sars : afterward he built a commodious sum-1 mer home on the choicest point that 1 his property afforded, named it Scuth- i look, and transformed that particular part of his wilderness into a million aire’s paradise, where he could dawdle and putter to his heart’s content, where he could spend his time and his money with a prodigality that carte so late in life to him that he made waste of both in his haste to live down a rather parsimonious past. Two miles and a half away. In the heart of a scattered colony of purse proud New Yorkers, was the country home of the Wrandalls, an imposing place and older by far than South look. It had descended from well worn and time-stained ancestors to Redmond Wrandall, and, with others of its kind, looked with no little scorn upon the modern, mushroom struc tures that sprouted from the seeds of trade. There was no friendship be tween the old and the new. Each had recourse to a bitter contempt for the other, though consolation was small in comparison. It was in the wooded by-ways of this ! despised domain that Challis Wran dall and Sara, the earthly daughter of Midas, met and loved and defied all things supernal, for matches are made in heaven. Their marriage did not open the gates of Nineveh. Sebas tian Gooch's paradise was more com pletely ostracised than it was before the disaster. The Wrandalls spoke of it as a disaster. Clearly the old merchant was not over-pleased with his daughter’s choice, a conclusion permanently es tablished by the alteration he made in his will a year or two after the mar riage. True, he left the vast estate to his beloved daughter Sara, but he fast ened a stout string to it, and with this string her hands were tied. It must have occurred to him that Chal lis was a profligate in more ways than one, for he deliberately stipulated in his will that Sara was not to sell a foot of the ground until a period of 1 twenty years had elapsed. A very polite way, it would seem, of making his investment safe in the face cf con siderable odds. He lived long enough after the mak ing of his will, I am happy to relate, to find that he had made no mistake. As he preceded his son-in-law into the great beyond by a scant three years, it readily may be seen that he wrought too well by far. Seventeen unneces sary years of proscription remained, and he had not intended them for Sara alone. He was not afraid of Sara, but for her. When the will was read and the con dition revealed, Challis Wrandall took it in perfect good humor. He had the grace to proclaim in the bosom of his father's family that the old gentleman was a father-in-law to be proud of. “A canny old boy,” he had announced with his most engaging smile, quite free from rancor or resentment. Chal lis was well acquainted with h mself. And so the acres were strapped to gether snugly and firmly, without so much as a town lot protruding. So impressed was Challis by the far sightedness of his father-in-law that he forthwith sat him down and made a will of his own. He would not have it said that Sara's father did a whit better by her than he would do. He I left everything he possessed to his wife, but put no string to it, blai dly implying that all danger would be j past when she came into possession, i There was a sort of grim humor in the way he managed to present him self to view as the real and ready | source of peril. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Gigantic Operation. Earth excavated from Panama canal , was sufficient to build sixty-three pyr- i amids the size of that of Cheops. CURE DOGS OF EATING EGGS Small Amount of Tartar Emetic Wi'l Break the Habit, According to Authority. When eggs are bringing top rices in the market nothing is more dis couraging than to find, on making ihe round of the nests that the dog has been there before you. Often this parasite on hennery profits is a fam ily pet that the owners do not wish to kill. But as with other pests, remedy lies only with killing or curing. Here is a cure which I have used success fully: Buy one dram of tartar emetic— this is a poison and should be handled with the greatest of care. Under no circumstances sholud the powder be placed where it is accessible to chil dren. ^ Pip a small piece out of an eggshell, pour out a little of the contents and put about as much of the tartar emetic as will cover the point of a small pocket knife Into the shell. Paste a small piece of white paper over the broken portion, and place the egg in one of the nests, preferably In a se cluded spot, where the dog has been accustomed to pilfer. Pot it where he can get it quickly before the hens have a chance to crack the treated egg Haying eaten this poison the dog be comes violently sick and will subse quently ' shun eggs. This means of curing the habit, though drastic, is effectual. It will not result n the death of the dog unless an overdose is given. Some farmers use red pepper in- ! stead of the tartar emetic, a pinch of ! pepper concealed In a baited egg i often being effectual. Throughout the j southern states Indian turnips when available are used in the same man ner. This is a pungent plant which, when eaten, causes the tongue to smart and burn and often to swell._ George H. Dacy in the Country Gen tleman. The Only Way. Mrs. Pankhnrst. as the Majestic sailed from New York, talked :o a re porter about the comparative deceit fulness of men and women. "Women,” said the reporter, ‘‘are the more deceitful.” “No.” said Mrs. Pankhurst, “men are the worse. Look at the way they de ceive their wives." “Do you claim," the reporter asked, "that men should never deceive their wives?" Mrs. Pankhnrst smiled and tossed her head. “Oh. no," she said. “How ctcld the average man ever get a wttn it he didn’t deceive herT* CANADA’S PLACE AS A PRODUCER Canada Is Getting a Great Many Americans. “Three young provinces, Manitoba Saskatchewan, and Alberta,” sa\s i New York financial journal, "have ready made Winnipeg one of the great est primary wheat markets of world. In 1904 they raised 53,000,0 bushels of wheat. Five years late they produced 150,000.000 bushels. In 1913 the crop approximated 200,OOt 000 bushels. At the present rate of progress Canada must soon pass France and India, and stand third in the line of wheat producers. Ulti mately It will dispute with Russia and the United States for the first position Wheat has been the pioneer of our development. Undoubtedly it will prove the same with Canada. In the last calendar year our trade with Can ada amounted to 497 million dollars. Only with two countries—the United Kingdom and Germany—is our trade greater. No vivid imagination is needed to see what the future devel opment of Canada means to the people of the United States. The influx of American settlers to the Canadian prairies is now in full swing. Within the past few days over 80 of those arrived at Bassano carrying with them effects and capital to the value of 1100,000. Fifty settlers from Oregon arrived in Alberta a few days ago; while 15 families of settlers from, the state of Colorado a"rived at Calgary on their journey northward' The goods and personal effects of this party filled 20 box cars. Of l.ve stock alone they had 175 horses, 13 row ~ and 2,000 head of poultry. Another class of settler has arrived at Peer 110 miles west of Edmonton, where no fewer than 200 German farmers have taken up land. These are from good farming families and brought w.-h them a large amount of capital. Then in South Western Siskatche w-an, there are large numbers settling, these from the United States predom nating, while in the northern and ■ n tral portions of all these provinces the settlement of new- people is going on steadily. Early in April. Peter Goertz arrived in Cardiff after a - day journey from McPherson, Kansas Mr. Goertz who had purchased land here was in charge of a party of ;;s people from the same part of Kansas and they came through with a special train which included all their stock and implements. The equipment was all Rock Island cars, and was the first full immigrant train ever sent out by that railroad. The farms purchased by the members of the party are amongst the best in the district. 3Vhen the Panama exposition opens next year any of the three transcon tinental lines in Otinada v.ill make convenient means of transport for those going to visit, and in doing so agricultural districts of Wester-: Canada can be seen, and ocular dem onstration given those who have heard but not before seen, of that which has attracted so many hundreds of thou sands of American settlers.—Adver tisement The Inference. "Are you a policeman?" asked one paying guest of another at a chari picnic dinner. "No,” said the other. “Why do ycj ask?" “Merely, that I noticed,” said th« first speaker, glancing at the sect: :: of fried chicken in the other's t:ti gers, "that you are pulling a tougti Joint” Wants to See Things. Poor old Jagbsby is off the water wagon again.” "I can t help admiring hia franknet-. though.” ‘ He doesn't try to excuse himse’ No. He mereiy says he prefers a scenic route."—Baltimore Sun The Button Doctor. During the short seven years of b r life, little Florence Louise had be come duly impressed with the preva lence of specialists in the medical pro fession. . One day, after returning from a vl~.: to a small playmate, she calmly an nounced: "Rena swallowed a button." “Are you worried about her?” she was asked. "Oh. she will get along all right ' Florence Louise complacently repli- d. "They sent for a regular button doc tor.”—Judge. Limited Intentions. How do you propose :;o support my daughter, sir?” ‘ I didn t propose to her to support her at all. I only proposed to her to marry roe."—Rehoboth Sunday Her ald Proving the Punch. Skids \ou think his story has a real punch to it? Skittles—Sure thing! You ought to have seen the way it put me to sleep. —Puck. Disasters. “My baldness dates from that ter rible year." “Oh, yes! 1S70." “What do you mean by 1870? I speak of the year I was married.”—Le Rire iParis). A Success. "Was the go to church movement a success in your neighborhood?" "Yes, indeed. Our church was as full as It is when they ure serving something to eat"—Detroit Free Press. f Job Wanted. Mrs. Sue Brette—Win is your friend? Foot Lighte—Oh, he's the manager of a show. “Well, I’m from Missouri; I wish he'd show me.” Are There That Many? Church—I eee that Milwaukee !s preparing to change over one hundred street names. Gotham—Going to name the streets after the different establishments which made the city famous, probably