r _ -
/rHESTORY O^A I
f I A MAN WHO I
\lN H!S OWN
llTTLE WORLD/ 1
Abo A RD/S HIP
W A S A LAW I
n^UNTO'HIMSELF^
CHAPTER I.
I scarcely know where to begin,
though 1 sometimes facetiously place
the cause of it all to Charley Furu
seth’s credit. He kept a summer cot
tage in Mill Valley, under the shadow
of Mount Tamalpais, and never occu
pied it except when he loafed through
the winter months and read Nietzsche
and Schopenhauer to rest his brain.
Had it not been mv custom to run up
to see him every Saturday afternoon
and to stop over till Monday morning,
this particular January Monday morn
ing would not have found me afloat
on San Francisco bay.
Not but that I was afloat in a safe
craft, for the Martinez was a new feryy
steamer, making her fourth or fifth
trip on the run between Sausalito and
San Francisco. The danger lay in the
heavy fog which blanketed the bay,
and of which, as a landsman, I had
little apprehension. I took up my posi
tion on the forward upper deck, direct
ly beneath the pilot house, and al
lowed the mystery of the fog to lay
hold of my imagination. A fresh breeze
was blowing, and for a time I was
alone in the moist obscurity—yet not
alone, for I was dimly, conscious of
the presence of the pilot, and of what
I took to be the captain, in the glass
house above my head.
It was good that men should be spe
cialists, I mused. The peculiar knowl
edge of the pilot and captain sufficed
for many thousands of people who
knew no more of the sea and naviga
tion than I knew. On the other hand,
instead of having to devote my en
ergy to the learning of a multitude of
things, I concentrated it upon a few
particular things, such as, for instance,
the analysis of Poe’s place in Ameri
can literature—an essay of mine, by
me way, in me current Atlantic.
From out the fog came the mourn
ful tolling of a bell, and I could sea
the pilot turning the wheel with great
rapidity. The bell, which had seemed
straight ahead, was now sounding
from the side. Our own whistle was
blowing hoarsely, and from time to
time the sound of other whistles came
to us from out of the fog. An unseen
ferryboat was blowing blast after
blast, and a mouth-blown horn was
tooting in terror-stricken fashion.
A shrill whistle, piping as if gone
mad, came from directly ahead and
from very near at hand. Gongs sound
ed on the Martinez. Our paddlewheels
stopped, their pulsing beat died away,
and then they started again. The
shrill whistle, like the chirping of a
cricket amid the cries of great beasts,
shot through the fog from more to
the side and swiftly grew faint and
fainter.
I^'glduced up. The captain had
thrust his head and shoulders out of
the pilot house, and was staring in
tently into the fog as though by sheer
force of will he could penetrate it. His
face was anxious.
Then everything happened, and with
inconceivable rapidity. The fog
seemed to break away as though split
by a wedge, and the bow of a steam
boat emerged, trailing fog-wreaths on
either side like seaweed on the snout
of Leviathan. I could see the pilot
house and a white-bearded man lean
ing partly out of it, on his elbows. He
was clad in a blue uniform, and I re
member noting how trim and quiet he
was. His quietness, under the circum
stances, was terrible. He accepted
destiny, marched hand in hand with it
and coolly measured the stroke. As
he leaned there, he ran a calm and
speculative eye over us, as though to
determine the precise point of the col
lision, and took no notice whatever
when our pilot, white with rage, shout
ed. “Now you’ve done it!”
We must have been struck squarely
amidships, for 1 saw nothing, the
strange steamboat having passed be
yond my line of vision. The Martinez
heeled over, sharply, and there was a
crashing and rending of timber. I was
thrown flat on the wet deck, and be
fore I could scramble to my feet 1
heard the screams of women. This
it was, 1 am certain—the most inde
scribable of blood-curdling sounds—
that threw me into a panic. I remem
bered the life preservers stored in the
cabin, but was met at the door and
■wept back by a wild rush of men and
women. What happened in the next
few minutes I do not recollect, though
I have a clear remembrance of pull
ing down life preservers from the over
head racks, while a red-faced man
fastened them about the bodies of a
hysterical group of women.
It was the screaming of the women
that most tried my nerves. It must
have tried, too, the nerves of the red
faced man, for I have a picture which
will never fade from my mind. A stout
gentleman is stuffing a magazine into
his overcoat pocket and looking on cu
riously. A tangled mass of women,
with drawn, white faces and open
mouths, is shrieking like a chorus of
lost souls; and the red-faced man, his
face now purplish with wrath, and
with his arms extended overhead as
in the act of hurling thunderbolts, is
shouting, “Shut up! Oh, shut up!"
These women, capable of the most
sublime emotions, of the tenderest
sympathies, were open-mouthed and
screaming. They wanted to live, they
were helpless, like rats in a trap, and
they screamed.
The horror of it drove me out on
deck. I was feeling sick and squeam
ish. and sat down on a bench. In a
hazy way I saw and heard men rush
ing and shouting as they strove to
lower the boats. It was just as I had
read descriptions of such scenes in
books. The tackles Jammed. Nothing
worked. One boat lowered away with
the plugs out filled with women and
children and then with water, and cap
sized. Another boat had been lowered
by one end, and still hung in the tackle
by the other end, where it had been
abandoned. Nothing was to be seen
of the strange steamboat which had
caused the disaster, though I heard
men saying that she would undoubt
edly send boats to our assistance.
I descended to the lower deck. The
Martinez was sinking fast, for the wa
ter was very near. Numbers of the
passengers were leaping overboard.
Others, in the water, were clamoring
to be taken aboard again. No one
“An’ ’Ow Yer Feeling Now, Sir?"
heeded them. A cry arose that we
were sinking. I was seized by the con
sequent panic, and went over the side
in a surge of bodies. How I went over
I do not know, though I did know, and
instantly, why those in the water were
so desirous of getting back on the
steamer. The water was cold—so cold
that it was painful. The pang, as I
plunged into it, was as quick and
sharp as that of fire. It bit to the mar
row. It was like the grip of death.
I gasped with the anguish and shock
of it, filling my lungs before the life
preserver popped me to the surface.
The taste of the salt water was strong
in my mouth, and I was strangling
with the acrid stuff in my throat and
lungs.
How long this lasted I have no con
ception, for a blankness intervened,
of which I remember no more than one
remembers of troubled and painful
sleep. When I aroused, it was as after
centuries of time; and I saw, almost
above me and emerging from the fog,
the bow of a vessel, and three triangu
lar sails, each shrewdly lapping the
other and filled with wind. Where the
bow cut the water there was a great
foaming and gurgling, and I seemed
directly in its path. I tried to cry
out, but was too exhausted. The bow
plunged down, just missing me and
Bending a swash of water clear over
my bead. Then the long, black side
of the vessel began slipping past, so
near that I could have touched it with
my hands. 1 tried to reach it, by my
arms were heavy and lifeless. Again
1 strove to call out, but made no sound.
The stern of the vessel shot by.
dropping, as it did so, into a hollow
between the waves; and 1 caught a
glimpse of a man standing at the
wheel, and of another man who
seemed to be doing little else than
smoke a cigar. He slowly turned his
head and glanced out over the water
in my direction.
Life and death were in that glance.
His face wore an absent expression,
as of deep thought, and I became
afraid that if his eyes did light upon
me he would not see me. But he did
see me, for he sprang to the wheel,
thrusting the other man aside, and
whirled it round and round, hand over
hand, at the same time shouting or
ders of some sort. The vessel seemed
to go off at a tangent to its former
course and leapt almost instantly from
view into the fog.
I felt myself slipping into uncon
sciousness, and tried with all the
power of my will to fight above the
suffocating blankness and darkness
that was rising around me. A little
later I heard the stroke of oars, grow
ing nearer and nearer, and the calls
of a man. When he was very near I
heard him crying, in vexed fashion,
“Why in hell don't you sing out?”
This meant me, I thought, and then
the blankness and darkness rose over
me.
CHAPTER II.
I seemed swinging in a mighty
rhythm through orbit vastness. But
a change came over the face of the
dream, for a dream I told myself it
must be. My rhythm grew shorter
and shorter. I was jerked from swing
to counter-swing with irritating haste.
I could scarcely catch my breath, so
fiercely was I impelled through the
heavens. I gasped, caught by breath
painfully, and opened my eyes. Two
men were kneeling beside me, working
over me. My mighty rhythm was the
lift and forward plunge of a ship on
the sea. A man's hard hands were
chafing my naked chest. I squirmed
under the pain of it, and half lifted
my head. My chest was raw and red.
and I could see tiny blood globules
starting through the torn and in
flamed cuticle.
"That’ll do, Yonson.” one of the men
said. “Can’t yer see you’ve bloomin’
well rubbed all the gent’s skin orf?”
The man addressed as Yonson, a
man of the heavy Scandinavian type,
ceased chafing me, and arose awk
wardly to his feet. The man who had
spoken to him was clearly a Cockney,
with the clean lines and weakly pretty,
almost effeminate face of the man
who has absorbed the sound of Bow
bells with his mother’s milk. A drag
gled muslin cap on his head and
dirty gunnysack about his slim hips
proclaimed him cook of the decidedly
dirty ship's galley in which 1 found
myself.
“An’ ’ow yer feelin’ now, sir?" he
asked, with the subservient smirk
which comes only of generations of
tip-seeking ancestors.
For reply I twisted weakly into a
sitting posture, and .was helped by
Yonson to my feet. The cook grinned
and thrust into my hpnd a steaming
mug with an “ ’Ere, this’ll do yer
good." It was a nauseous me3s—ship's
coffee—but the heat of it was revivi
fying. Between gulps of the molten
stuff I glanced down at my raw and
bleeding chest and turned to the Scan
dinavian.
“Thank you, Mr. Y'onson," 1 said;
“but don’t you think your measures
were rather heroic?"
“My name is Johnson, not Yonson,”
he said, in very good, though slow
English, with no more than a shade of
accent to it.
There was mild protest in his pale
blue eyes, and withal a frankness and
manliness that quite won me to him.
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson," 1 cor
rected. and reached out my hand for
his.
He hesitated, awkward and bashful,
shifted his weight from one leg to
the other, then blunderingly gripped
my hand in a hearty shake.
“Have you any dry clothes I may
put on?” I asked the cook.
“Yes, sir,” he answered, with cheer
ful alacrity. “I’ll run down an’ tyke
a look over my kit, if you’ve no objec
tions. sir, to wearin’ my togs.”
“And where am I?” I asked Johnson,
whom I took to be one of the sailors.
“What vessel is this, and where is she
bound?”
“Oft the Faraliones, heading about
sou’west.” he answered, slowly and
methodically, as though groping for
his best English, and rigidly observing
the order of my queries. “The schoon
er Ghost, bound seal hunting to Ja
pan.”
“And who is the captain? I must
see him as soon as 1 am dressed.”
Johnson looked puzzled and embar
rassed. He hesitated while he groped
in his vocabulary and framed a com
plete answer. "The cap’n is Wolf Lar
son, or so men call him. I never heard
his other name. But you better speak
soft with him. He is mad this morn
ing. The mate—”
But he did not finish. The cook had
glided in.
Better sung yer ook out or ere,
Yonson,” he said. “The old mau'U be
wantin’ yer on deck, an’ this ayn’t no
d’y to fall foul of ’im.”
Johnson turned obediently to the
door, at the same time, over the cook’s
shoulder, favoring me with an amaz
ingly solemn and portentous wink, as
though to emphasize his interrupted
remark and the need for me to be
soft-spoken with the captain.
Hanging over the cook’s arm was a
loose and crumpled array of evil-look
ing and sour-smelling garments.
“They was put aw’y wet, sir,” he
vouchsafed explanation. “But you'll
'ave to make them do till 1 dry yours
out by the fire.”
Clinging to the woodwork, stagger
ing with the roll of the ship, and aid
ed by the cook, 1 managed to slip into
a rough woolen undershirt. On the
instant my flesh was creeping and
crawling from the harsh contact. He
noticed my involuntary twitching and
grimacing, and smirked:
"I only hope yer don’t ever ’ave to
get used to such as that in this life,
'cos you've got a bloomin’ soft skin,
that you 'ave, more like a lydy’s than
any I know of. I was bloomin’ well
sure you was a gentleman as soon as
I set eyes on yer.”
1 had taken a dislike to him at iirst,
and as he helped to dress me this dis
like increased. There was something
repulsive about his touch. 1 shrank
from his hand; my flesh revolted. And
between this and the smells arising
from various pots boiling and on the
galley fire, I was in haste to get out
into the fresh air. Further, there was
the need of seeing the captain about
what arrangements could be made for
getting me ashore.
“And whom have I to thank for this
kindness?” I asked, when I stood com
pletely arrayed, a tiny boy's cap on
my head, and for coat a dirty, Btriped
cotton Jacket which ended at the
small of my back and the sleeves of
which reached just below my elbows.
The cook drew himself up in a smug
ly humble fashion, a deprecating
smirk on his face.
“JIugridge, sir,” he fawned, his ef
feminate features running into a greasy
smile. “Thomas Mugridge, sir, an' at
yer service.”
“All right. Thomas.” 1 said. “I shall
not forget you—when my clothes are
dry.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said, very
gratefully and very humbly indeed.
Precisely in the way that the door
slid back, he slid aside, and I stepped
out and staggered across the moving
deck to a corner of the cabin, to
which I clung for support. The
schooner, heeled over far out from the
perpendicular, was bowing and plung
ing into the long Pacific roll. The fog
was gone, and in its place the sun
sparkled crisply on the surface of the
water. 1 turned to the east, where I
knew California must lie, but could
see nothing save low-lying fog banks.
In the southwest, and almost in our
course, 1 saw the pyramidal loom of
some vessel's sails. Beyond a sailor
at the wheel, who stared curiously
across the top of a cabin, 1 attracted
no notice whatever.
Everybody seemed interested in
what was going on amidships. There,
on a hatch, a large man was lying on
his back. His eyes were closed, and
he was apparently unconscious. A
sailor, from time to time, and quite
methodically, as a matter of routine
dropped a canvas bucket into the
ocean at the end of a rope, hauled It
in hand under hand, and sluiced its
contents over the prostrate man.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Saving Her Voice.
The Impresario—Certainly, madam,
I can supply you with a second prima
donna to sing your children to sleep.
But you sing so perfectly yourself.
The Prima Donna Acsoluta—Hut my
singing is worth $5,000 a night, and I
couldn't think of squandering that
amount on the children.—Houston
Chronicle.
HAVE MANY FINE QUALITIES
i _________
Italian Cattle, It Is Thought, Might
With Profit Be Imported Into the .
United State*.
The white cattle which predominate
In northern Italy are of the Piedmont
breed, and are particularly suitable as
work animals. A yoke of these oxen
of large size weigh 3,520 to 4,400
pounds. The weight of a fine white
cow of the riedmont breed is 1,210 to
1,540 pounds. Steers attain about
1,980 pounds. The Piedmont bull
reaches about 2.200 to 2,420 pounds.
Another breed of white cattle is also
found in Italy, known as Roman. This
breed, however, is not, properly speak
ing, of northern Italian origin, but
comes from the neighborhood oi
Rome, in central Italy. The oxen ot
this breed are also particularly adapt
ed as work animals, but are not so
good for slaughter, their meat being
not of such fine quality aa that of the
Piedmont variety.
There Is also a breed of pure white
cattle in Italy, known as Chianina.
These cattle are of enormous slza and
weight, less adapted to work, but are
for slaughter. There are oxen of the
Chlanina breed weighing from 3,360
to 3,520 pounds each.
It is the opinion of breeders and
dairymen in this district that none ot
the above breeds of cattle have been
exported to North America. There are
many breeders in Italy of the several
classes of white cattle, but there are
none who raise them especially for
export.
Bobby Meant Well.
"It can't be possible, Bobby,” said
his mother, "that you nave been wick
ed enough to eat the whole rhubarb
pie In the closet?" "Yes, ma. The
doctor told you, you know, that my
system required rhubarb, an t
thought I'd better get a good dose of
It down me before 1 got any worse."
Gloom for the Early Riser.
“It’s always darkest Just before
dawn," quoted the readymade philoso
pher.
“And yet,” rejoined bis pessimistic
“some people say “early to bed
and early to rise. N
VICE CHARGED TO MOSQUITO
Natives of Tropics Can’t Be Moral, Is
Argument Made by Some
Missionaries.
“Those who complain of mosquitoes
here ought to be thankful that condi
tions here are not the same as in Cen
tral America," a returned traveler
said. "As soon as a man sets foot
in the wilds down there he is intro
duced to inis insatiable pest. The
mosquito will cling to him in waking
and sleeping hours, testing all bis pow
ers of endurance and leaving him so
thoroughly scarred lhat many a mis
sionary acquires the appearance of
one who has barely emerged from the
throes of some deadly and pernicious
disease."
in the annual report of, the Ameri
can Bible society, which is now be
ing prepared for puolication, many
Bible distributors testify to the suffer
ing caused by contact with mosquitoes
in the hot belt countries. The in
sect, not heathenism, is the mission
aries' worst enemy. Sven the natives
are engaged in constant battle witb
the pests. They prevent sleep, they
infect the food, they carry in their
trail microbes and germs of destruc
tion.
Many missionaries believe that the
mosquito is actually lesponslble tor
the vicious and deceptive traits of
character which prevail among the na
tives. They can't possibly be happy
or moral under the continued assault
of such an enemy to physical comfort,
it is argued.
Right About It
“Dr. Frank Gunsaulus declares that
Americans think in blobs, and—"
"He is right about it!” interrupted
the Old Codger. “The man who differs
with me as to how to stop the war,
who attempts to offset my theories on
politics, religion and the weather, who
hasn't any more sense than to call
a wet moon a dry one, who tails *.o
share my apprehension of the awful
abyss toward which this country is
drifting; in short, anybody who don't
agree with me merely thinks in. blobs,
and the blobs are very far apart. Doc
Wbat's-nis-name is correct!'*—Kansas
City Star,
r IMPROVED METHODS OF STOCK FEEDING I
l-- - - " . ■ ■ -- , . J
L-__^•
Excellent Beef Specimens.
I (By D. B. GREEN, Ohio.)
The man who had the forethought
to provide plenty of good carrots and
mangles, is exceedingly well fixed for
bringing the farm animals through
the winter in good condition.
A good many dairymen are feeding
skim milk to their cows. The animals
seem to relish it; and, as it is not a
fattening food, it does them no harm.
Whether or not it pays to grind
corn for fattening pigs depends upon
the price of the corn and the facilities
and cost of grinding, which vary with
the seasons and the conditions on the
farms.
If skim milk is added to the ration
fed to young chickens it will Increase
the consumption of other foods given.
Feed which has been allowed to
get wet will ferment or 60ur readily
and cause intestinal disorders Don’t
feed it to your stock.
During the years when corn brought
a very low price, cattle feeding could
be conducted on very loose principles
and still pay fair profits, but condi
tions have since changed and methods
must be varied to meet the new con
ditions in beef production. We are
forced to adopt more economic! meth
ods of production.
Our whole system o* cattle feeding
has been largely built up upoa cheap
grain foods and we have besn making
but little use of foragt- and hay in tho
production of our beef. Feeders must
introduce better methods of produc
ing their beef and not go out of bust
ness for the reason that giai.i foods
are high.
Pork production returns U) the soil
the grain food elements that are con
sumed by the hogs, but caUle and
sheep feeding make possible the uso
of clover, alfalfa and < orn fodder and
return them to the scil In a manner
that will encourage the gro>jrth o*
Junior Champion Angus Bull.
morn clover, alfalfa and grain is the
crop rotation and thus preserve the
fertility of the soil.
The men who are most interested
are the ones who raise their own feed
ers and make a practice of taking the
very best of care of their animals. No
man can go out and buy the class of
young feeders that are demanded in
the production of baby beef.
The advocate of baby beef has as
his chief argument that young and
growing animals make cheaper gains
than older ones, or that the cost of
a pound of grain increases with the ■'
age of the animal. This law is well
established, and is primarily due to
the fact that growth and lean meat
requires less food for its production
than does fat, for lean meat is a wa
tery tissue compared with fat and t»
a less concentrated product. Fat la
the most concentrated animal product
we have.
For generations English farmers
have made extensive use of dwarf Es
sex rape as a chick food. This plan*
may be described as a rutabaga run
to head. The seed is sown like ruts,
baga turnip and cultivated, without
thinning.
Experiments at the Kansas and In
diana stations show that the contin
ued feeding of moldy corn to horses,
causes nervous and intestinal trouble*
of a serious nature.
A ration consisting of two-thirds
com and cobmeal and one-third bean
meal may be fed to dairy cows with
good results.
A feed of roots, especially carrots,
is greatly relished by the colt, if when
they are cut up, a little oil meal Is
scattered over them.
Good protein hay from clover or
cowpeas, combined with some nice
corn stover (stover is simply the stalk
without the ear, and may be used
whole or shredded) will make a satis
factory roughage for feeding young
heifers.
A limited amount of silage may be
fed with satisfaction to sheep—say
about ten pounds per head each day.
But it should be fed in connection with
some dry roughage, such as clover or
alfalfa hay, or even mixed hay and
straw.
In very cold weather, the sheep
should have plenty of clover hay or
corn fodder or such other roughness
as is available on the farm. The ewes
should be kept in a good, thrifty con
dition in order that the offspring may
be healthy and vigorous.
DISEASES OF HOGS
CAN BE PREVENTED
Serum and Sanitation Make Best
Preparation for Warfare
Against Hog Cholera.
Keep hogs thriving; strong, healthy
bogs resist cholera.
•Quarantine every hog, dead from
cholera; the law requires it.
Dice, worms, and fhsanitary condi
tions weaken hogs ai*rt invite cholera.
Disinfect hog yarls occasionally
wlh unslaked lime; fVs good cholera
ihsurance.
Serum and sanitation make the best
preparation for the warfare against
Vjg cholera.
Keep cholera h< gs and carcasses
nway from the stre-am and insist that
your neighbor do the same.
The straw shod for hogs is almost
sure to be either damp or dusty. Ei
ther condition invites disease.
Keep gunny sacks saturated with
crude oil where h')gs can rub against
them. Raise more hogs and fewer
Kill lice with crude or fuel oil
sprinkled on the hogs at feeding time,
applied to rubbing posts or used as a
two-inch layer on top of the water in
a dipping tank.
Coughs and pneumonia from dusty
beds may incidentally be prevented if
louse-infested beds are oiled. Breath
ing dust may cause death from pneu
monia and certainly renders hogs less
resistant to cholera.
The Missouri ffgricultural experi
ment station has carefully tested each
«>’ these remedies and so have thous
ands of good farmers. They have
•rood the test but are not substitutes
fir serum treatment, for they resist
btit do not entirely prevent cholera.
These thrift-producing measures
v'ould pay if cholera did not exist.
Sprinkle freshly slaked lime about
one-sixteenth of an inch deep over
the lots, sprinkling quarters once ev
ery month or two. At this rate, a
barrel will kill the germs on about
1,280 square feet of lot space. Com
bat worms by feeding a mixture of 4
parts of charcoal, 3 parts of copperas,
3 parts of common salt. 3 parts of
Glauber salts, 3 parts sal soda, 1 part
sulphur. Mix In hundred-pound lots
and keep In a dry place where the
’logs can help themselves. It Is a
good “conditioner” and has been thor
oughly tested at the Missouri agricul
tural experiment station and on many
farms.
Avoid Digestive Disorders.
The careful herdsman avoids diges
tive disorders In the calf by feeding
•he skim milk warm and using only
«l«an buckets. Overfeeding also helps
*o derange the digestive tract and
Should be avoided. From the time
>hat the calf is born until it is well
grown It should bs provided with a
clean stall. This prevents navel 111
and insures a healthful growth.
Farm Brood Mares.
A few good brood mares on the or
linary farm if bred to a good stallion
should produce several good colts
svery year besides doing the ordinary
.’arm work. To secure the best results
tbe brood mare that does the farm
work must be given the best care and
attention.
Cow Prr Acre.
"A cow per acrs,” sounds pretty
big; but it may work all right If you
have the right kind of acres and the
fight sort of cows.
For Profitable Colts.
Sell the undersized, unsound mares
and geldings as soon as possible and
replace them with carefully selected,
heavy graded mares. Carefully man
aged, such brood mares should easily
do the work of the farm. From them
It is possible to raise profitable foals.
To Prune Fruit Trees.
In cold climates the ideal time to
prune fruit trees is not in the tall
or winter; wait till the severe weather
is over.
Destroy the White Grub.
Damage from white grubs In 1912
stas estimated at 112,000,000. It bids
fair to be greater next year and in
1917-1918, unless extra efforts are put
forth to get rid of the grubs now and
hext spring. Three means of keeping
them in check are suggested: Plow
tp the autumn, destroy May beetles in
the spring, rotate crops.
Cautious In Feeding Horses.
Be cautious in feeding very hot or,
tired horses.
“HELP
WANTED”
When the
APPETITE IS POOR
DIGESTION BAD
LIVER LAZY
I BOWELS CLOGGED
i YOU SHOULD TRY
HOSTETTER'S
STOMACH BITTERS
IT STRENGTHENS AND INVIG
ORATES THE ENTIRE SYSTEM
NEAL OF COUNCIL BLUFFS
q hiy DRINK end DRUG
^■DAI TREATMENT
Always Successful. Write for Booklet.
Address NEAL INSTITUTE
21 Benton Street. COUNCIL BLUFFS, IS.
Or address J. X. M5Y, Manager.
D1TC||TC Watsoa F. Oslrmtr,
1 IX I L Ig I J Patent Lawyer, Waobi"—..,.,.
n 9 “ D.C. Advice and hooka free.
Bates reasonable. Highest references. Best aervicea
TfvBS Parana Your pound9, one dollar.
k , . reCflnS prepaid in fifth tone,
beyond i 126c. TCXiS SALES to.. Box X, Ceraleaa*. Tu.
Nebraska Directory
-112,000 SATISFIED SHIPPERS
■ testify to our “square' policy. Premia*
cash price* Wr.te for Pur Price List anJ
Tags. Agent wanted in every town, if you
have hides to sell, write for Bide Price List.
We Will Tan -
and make your own bides
and furs into robes, coats,
etc., and save you big money All work ia
guaranteed- Write for tanning prices.
OMAHA HIDE & FUR CO.
907 So. 13th St. Omaha. Neb. _
D|PPT||DC CURED in a few days
alt*I I UflC without pain or a sur
gical operation. Ho pay until cured. Writ*
Da WBAX, 800 Baa Bid*., Omaha. Neb.
COSTUMES
VVVIWnihV MASOUERADE
FOR RENT OR SALE
Largest stock In the West. Shipped
by express anywhere in the U. S
THEO. LIEBEN & SON, 1516 Howard St, OMAHA
NEAL
LIQUOR DRUG CURE
SATISFACTION GUARANTEED
Address 1502 S. 10th St., Omaha, Neb.
or W. L. Beavers, Mgr.
ALL COARmmroNDKNCZ CONriDANTtAL
The Lack.
"Ah, Jones, are you here?”
"You don’t need an answer; you
need an oculist.”
SDPOF FIGS FOR
A GRU1R1ELS
It is cruel to force nauseating,
harsh physic into a
sick child.
Look back at your childhood days.
Remember the "dose” mother Insisted
on—castor oil, calomel, cathartics.
How you hated them, how you fought
against taking them.
With our children it’s different.
Mothers who cling 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 teaspojjpful
given today saves a sick child tomor
row.
Ask at the store for a 60-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.
More than half the newspapers pub
lished in the world are printed in the
English language.
Mot Cray Hairs but Tired Ryan
make us look older than we are. Keep
your Eyes young and you will look young.
After the Movies Murine Your Eyes. Don’t
tell your age. Murine Eye Remedy Co..
Chicago, Sends Eye Book on request
More than 4,800 persons have ap
plied to join the latest British polar
expedition. _
It’s Foolish to Suffer
You may be brave enough to
stand backache, or headache, or
dizziness. But if, in addition, ur
ination is disordered, look out!
If you don’t try to fix your sick
kidneys, you may fall into the
clutches of kidney trouble before
you know it. But If you live more
carefully and help your kidneys
with Doan’s Kidney Pills, you can
stop the pains you have and avoid
future danger as well.
A Nebraska Case
Samuel Bixler, Gor
don, Neb., says: "Four
years' service In the
> army left me with a
chronic case of kidney
complaint. I had to
get up at night to
pass the kidney secre
tions and my whole
body ached. My joints
swelled and I h a d
fainting spells. Doan's
Kidney Pills have
corrected these all
%. f menta ana i can t t>e
too grateful."
Gat Doan'a at Any Storm, 80c a Beat
DOAN’S VSSX?
FOSTER-M1LBURN CO, BUFFALO. N. T.
