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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 24, 1916)
1 /TTTthis tale\ ( 1 JACK LON- \ } DON'S SEA EX- A yPERIENCE IS VsED WITH ALLy TH E POWERT^OFA: -HIS - VIRILE PEN - iL^-==—: === rrHE STORY OF\ 1 A MAN WHO j ylN HIS OWN j LITTLE WORLD/ ABOARD/SHIP WAS A LAW UNTO-HIMSELF^ '■J> ~’J‘ ' • • *■’ SYNOPSIS. —7— Humphrey V:ui Weyden, critic and dilet tnnie. is thruwn into the water l>y the sinking of a ferryboat in a tog in Sat J'rancisco bay. and becomes unconscious before help reaches him On coming to his senses he finds himself aboard the sealing schooner Ghost, Captain Wolf I-arsen, hound to Japan waters, witnesses the death of the first mate and hears the captain curse the dead man for presuming to die The captain refuses to put Humphrey ashore and makes him cabin boy "for the good of his soul." He begins to learn potato peeling and dish washing tinder the cockney cook. Mugridge. is caught by a heavy sea shipped over the quarter as he js carrying tea aft and his knee is seriously hurt, but no one pays any attention to his injury. Hump's quar ters are changed aft. Mugridge steals his money and chases him when accused of it. I.ater lie listens to Wolf give his idea of life—"like yeast, a ferment . . . the big eat the little . . Cooky is jealous of Hump and hazes him Wolf hazes a sea man and makes it the basis fur another philosophic discussion with Hump Wr.lf entertains Mugridge in Ids cabin, wins from him at cards the money lie stole from Hump, and then tells Hump it Is his. Wolf'S, by right of might. Cooky and Hump whet knives at eaeh other. CHAPTER VIII—Continued. "All right.” he said pridelesslv, “tyke it or leave it. I'll like yer none the less for it.” And to save his face he turned fiercely upon the onlookers. “Get outa my galley doors, you bloom in' swabs!” This command was re-enforced by a steaming kettle of water, and at sight of it the sailors scrambled out of the way. This was a sort of victory for Thomas Mugridge, and enabled him to accept more gracefully the de feat I had given him, though, of course, he was Too discreet to attempt to drive the hunters away. “I see Cooky’s finish." I heard Smoke say to Horner. “You bet,” was the reply. “Hump runs the galley from now on, and Cooky pulls in his horns.” Mugridge heard and shot a swift glance at me. but 1 gave no sign that the conversation had reached me. l had not thought my victory was so far-reaching and complete, but I re solved to let go nothing I had gained. As the days went by. Smoke's proph ecy was verified. The cockney became more humble and slavish to me than even to Wolf Larsen. 1 mistered him and sirred him no longer, washed no more greasy pots, and peeled no more potatoes. I did my own work, and my own work only, and when and in what As I Softly Withdrew I Could Hear Him Groaning. fashion I saw fit. Also, i carried the dirk in a sheath at my hip, sailor fastlon, and maintained toward Thom as Mugridge a constant attitude which was composed of equal parts of domi nsartng. insult and contempt. CHAPTER IX. My Intimacy with Wolf Larsen in creases—if by intimacy may be de noted those relations which exist be tween master and man, or. better yet. between king and jester. My function Is to amuse, and so long as 1 amuse all goes well; but let him become bored, or let him have one of his black moods come upon him. and at once 1 am relegated from cabin table to gal ley, while at the same time. I am for tunate to escape with my life and a ! whole body. The loneliness of the man is slowlv oeing borne in upon me. There is noi a man aboard but hates or fears him. nor is there a man whom he does not despise. He seems consuming with the tremendous power that is in him and that seems never to have found adequate expression in works. This loneliness is bad enough in itself, but. to make it worse, he is oppressed by the primal melancholy of the race. The frivolity of the laughter-loving Latins is no part of him. When he laughs it is from a humor that is nothing less than ferocious. But he laughs rarely; he is too often sad. Were he not so terrible a man. 1 could sometimes feel sorry for him, as in stance three mornings ago, when 1 went into his stateroom to till his wa ter bottle and came unexpectedly upon him. He did not see me. His head was buried in his hands, and his shoul ders were heaving convulsively as with sobs. He seemed torn by some mighty grief. As I softly withdrew I could hear him groaning, "God! God! God!” Not that he was calling upon God; it was a mere expletive, but it came from his soul. At dinner he asked the hunters for a remedy for headache, and by eve ning. strong man that he was. he was half blind and reeling about the cgbin. “I've never been sick in my life. Hump,” he said, as I guided him to his room. "Nor did I ever have a headache except the time my head was healing after having been laid open for six inches by a capstan-bar.” For three days this blinding head ache lasted, and he suffered as wild animals suffer, as it seemed the way on ship to suffer, without plaint, with out sympathy, utterly alone. This morning, however, on entering his stateroom to make the bed and put things in order. I found him well and hard at work. Table and bunk were littered with designs and calcu lations. On a large, transparent sheet, compass and square in hand, he was copying what appeared to be a scale of some sort or other. “Hello. Hump.” he greeted me gen ially. “I’m just finishing the finishing touches. Want to see it work?” "But what is it?” I asked. “A labor-saving device for mariners, navigation reduced to kindergarten simplicity,” he answered gayly. There was a ring of triumph in his voice, and his eyes, clear blue this morning as the sea. were sparkling with light. i uu must ue wen up in mainemat ics,” 1 said. "Where did you go to school?” “Never saw the inside of one. worse luck,” was the answer. "I had to dig it out for myself.” “And why do you think I have made this thing?” he demanded abruptly. "Dreaming to leave footprints on the sands of time?” He laughed one of his horrible, mocking laughs. "Not at all. To get it patented, to make money from it. to revel in piggishness writh all night in while other men do the work. That's my purpose. Also, I have enjoyed working it out." “The creative Joy." I murmured. >‘l guess that's what it ought to be called. Which is another way of ex pressing the joy of life in that it is alive, the triumph of movement over matter, of the quick over the dead, the pride of the yeast because it is yeast and crawls.” I threw up my hands with helpless disapproval of his inveterate materi alism and went about making the bed. He continued copying lines and figures upon the transparent scale. It was a task requiring the utmost nicety and precision, and I could not but admire the way he tempered his strength to the fineness and delicacy of the need. When I had finished the bed. I caught myself looking at him in a fascinated sort of way. He was cer tainly a handsome man—beautiful in the masculine sense. And again, with never-failing wonder, I remarked the total lack of viciousness or wicked ness or sinfulness in his face. Who was he? What was he? How had he happened to be? All powers seemed his. all potentialities—why, then, was he no more than the obscure master of a sealhunting schooner with a repu tation for frightful brutality among the men who hunted seals? My curiosity burst from me in & flood of speech. “Why is it that you have not done great things in this world? With the power that is yours you might have risen to any height. Unpossessed of conscience or moral instinct, you might have mastered the world, bro ken it to your hand. And yet here you are, at the top of your life, where di minishing and dying begin, living an obscure and sordid existence, hunt ing sea animals for the satisfaction of woman's vanity and love of deco ration. reveling in a piggishness, to use your own , words, which is any thing and everything except splendid. Why, with all that wonderful strength, have you not done something? There was nothing to stop you, nothing that could stop you. What was wrong? Did you lack ambition? Did you fall under temptation? What was the mat ter? What was the matter?” He had lifted his eyes to me at the commencement of my outburst, and followed me complacently until 1 ha 1 done and stood before him breathless and dismayed. He waited a moment, as thougli seeking where to begin, and then said: “Hump, do you know the parable of the sower who went forth to sow? If you will remember, some of the seed fell upon stony places, where there was not much earth, and forth with they sprung up because they had no deepness of earth. And when the sun was up they were scorched, and because they had no root they with ered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprung up and choked them.” “Well?” 1 said. “Well?” he queried, half petulantly. “It was not well. 1 was one of those seeds.” He dropped his head to the scale and resumed the copying. 1 finished my work and had opened the door to leave, when he spoke to me. "Hump, if you will look on the west coast of the map of Norway you will see an Indentation called Romsda! fjord. I was born within a hundred miles of that stretch of water. But 1 was not born Norwegian. I am a Dane. My father and mother were Danes, and how they ever came to that bleak bight of land on the west coast I do not know. I never heard Outside of that there is nothing mys terious. They were poor people and unlettered. They came of genera tions of poor, unlettered people—peas ants of the sea, who sowed their sons on the waves as has been their cus tom since time began. There is no more to tell.” "But there is,” I objected. “It is still obscure to me.”, "What can I tell you?” he demand ed. with a recrudescence of fierceness. “Of the meagerness of a child's life? of fish diet and coarse living? of go ing out with the boats from the time I could crawl? of my brothers, who went away one by one to the deep-sea farming and never came back? of my self, unable to read or write, cabin-bov at the mature age of ten on the coast wise. old-country ships? of the rough fare and rougher usage, where kicks and blows were bed and breakfast and took the place of speech, and fear and hatred and pain were my only soul experiences? I do not care to remem ber. A madness comes up in my brain even now as I think of it. But there were coastwise skippers I would have returned and killed when a man’s strength came to me, only the lines of my life were cast at the time in other places. I did return, not long ago, but unfortunately the skippers were dead, all but one. a mate in the old days, a skipper when I met him. and when I left him a cripple who would never walk again.” “But you who read Spencer and Darwin and have never seen the inside of a school, how did you learn to read and write?” I queried. “In the English merchant service. Cabin-boy at twelve, ship's boy at four teen. ordinary seaman at sixteen, able seaman at seventeen, and cock of the fo'c’sle, infinite ambition and infinite loneliness, receiving neither help nor sympathy, 1 did it all for myself—nav igation, mathematics, science, litera ture. and what not. And of what use has it been? Master and owner of a ship at the top of my life, as you sav, when I am beginning to diminish and die. Paltry, isn't it? And when the sun was up I was scorched, and be cause I had no root I withered away.” “But history tells of slaves who rose to the purple.” I chided. “And history tells of opportunities that came to the slaves who rose to the purple,” he answered grimly. “No man makes opportunity. All the great voe<a ever did was to know it when it catae to them. The Corsican knew. 1 have dreamed as greatly as the Corsi can. I should have known the oppor tunity. but it never came. The thorns sprung up and choked me. And. Hump, I can tell you that you know more about me than any living man. except my own brother." “And what is he? And where is he?” "Master of the steamship Macedo nia, seal hunter,” was the answer. I "We will meet him most probably on the Japan coast. Men call him ‘Death Larsen." "Death -Larsen!” I involuntarily cried. "Is he like you?” "Hardly. He is a lump of an ani mal without any head. He has al) my—my—" "Brutishness.” 1 suggested. “Yes—thank you for the word—al! my brutishness, but he can scarcely read or wrjje.” “And he has never phlos'cphized or life,” 1 added. “No,” Wolf Larsen answered, with an indescribable air of sadness. “And he is ail the happier for leaving lift alone. He is too busy living it to think about it. My mistake was in evet opening the hooks.” CHAPTER X. The Ghost ha3 attained the south ernmost point of the arc site is de scribing across the Pacific, and is al ready beginning to edge away to the west and north toward some lone island, it is rumored, where she will fill her water casks before proceeding to the season’s hunt along the coast ol Japan. The hunters have experiment ed and practiced with their rifles and shotguns till they are satisfied, and put their boats in apple-pie order—tc use Leach’s homely phrase. His arm. by the way. has healed nicely, though the scar will remain all his life. Thomas Mugridge lives In mortal fear of him, and is afraid tc venture on deck after dark. Louis shakes his head dubiously over the outlook for the man Johnson, who has collided two or three times with Woll Larsen over the pronunciation of his name. Johansen he thrashed on the amidships deck the other night, since which time the mate has called him by his proper name. But of course it is out of the question that Johnson should thrash Wolf Larsen. Louis has also given me additional information about Death Larsen which tallies with the captain's briei description. We may expect to meet Death Larsen on the Japan coast “And look out for squalls.” is Louis prophecy, "for they hate one anothet like the wolf whelps they are.” Death Larsen is in command of the only seal ing steamer in the fleet, the Mace donia. which carries fourteen boats whereas the rest of the schooners carry only six. A9 it is forward and in the galley so it is in the steerage and aft, on this veritable hell-ship. Men figlit and struggle ferociously for one another’s lives. The hunters are looking for a shooting scrape at any moment be tween Smoke and Henderson, whose old quarrel has not healed, while Woll , Larsen says positively that he will kill the survivor of the affair, if such af fair comes off. I think even the hunt ers are appalled at his cold-blooded ness. Wicked men though they be. they are certainly very much afraid of him. Thomas Mugridge is curlike in his subjection to me. while 1 go about in secret dread of him. His is the cour age of fear—a strange thing 1 know well of myself—and at any moment it may master the fear and impel him to the taking of my life. My knee is much better, though it often aches for long periods, and the stiffness is grad ually leaving the arm which Wolf Larseji squeezed. I was amused, a couple of evenings hack, by seeing Wolf Larsen reading the Bible, a copy of which had been found in the dead mate's sea-chest. I wondered what Wolf Larsen could get from it, and he read aloud to me from Ecclesiastes. 1 can hear him now as I shall always hear him, the primal melancholy vibrant in his voice as he read. "There you have it. Hump,’' he said, closing the book upon his finger and looking up at me. “The Preacher who was king over Israel in Jerusalem thought as I think. ’All is vanity and vexation of spirit,’ ’There is no profit under the sun,’ ’There is one event unto all,’ to the fool and the wise, the clean and the unclean, the sinner and the saint, and that event is death, and an evil thing, he says. For the Preach er loved life, and did not want to die. saying, ’For a living dog is better than a dead lion.’ He preferred the vanity and vexation to the silence and un movableness of the grave. And so I. To crawl is piggish; but to not crawl, to be as the clod and rock, is loathsome to contemplate Life itself is unsat isfaction, but to look ahead to death is greater unsatisfaction.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) SOLOMON ON ENGLISH EEfJCH Judge Suggested That Half-Starved Bear Ce Allowed to Eat Lame Pony. A showman named Viso Markinko ritch, oeloug’ng to a band of Serbian gypsies. was charged the other day it West London with ill treating a arown bear and a pony. Inspector llrockhouse said the bear was tied by the nose and neck to » ran. and fell down when its chain was undone. It was ir a neglected tondition, and when offered some pieces of bread "simply took them like pills,” bolting the food ravenous ;y. The poly, which was also tied to the van. Was lame. Both animals were being dragged along. The prisoner, through an interpret er, declared he was ill, and if a doctor would certify him well he would be willing to go to prison for twenty years A veterinary surgeon said the Dear wanted feeding up. but it was cruelty •to allow the pony to live. "'then it would be better if the bear ate the pony." the Judge said, "for the bear would then be fed and the pony would hf out of its misery 1 under stand that these wild and carnivorous animals have to be kept half starved or they become dangerous?" That is so," said the witness, “but not so much as in this case " A remand was granted, not to en able the bear to eat the pony, but to allow the prisoner to engage an attor ney.—l.oudon Chronicle. How It Happened. "I understand, uncle, that there is a young colored man in this neighbor hood who is turning white?" "Yassail, and bleeged to yo' for de terrygation. sah. He's muh son. Hun key. and he’s not on’y turnin’ white, but be s done plumb turned. Ciihnel Tolliver got a mess o’ bull snakes and put ’em in his chicken bouse to keep de rats away When Hunkey put bis hand on one o’ dem sarpints In de night, and two mo’ clumb up his pants \ leg aD anudder gulled round bis neck he shouted like an evangelist and turned white den an' dar!”—Kansas , City Star. t. ... SCIENTISTS KEEP AT WORK Turmoil of War Seems to Have Had Little Effect on the Develop ment of Ideas. So thick and fast come the devel opments of science in these days that men are losing their sense of astonish ment. The impossible beeomes the actual so often that it is unsafe to say that anything cannot be done. A few months ago the first telephone message was transmitted across the continent. Today we hear that a still greater distance has been covered by a wireless telephone. Fcvty years ago a current of electricity could not be made to jump more than a tew inches through a vacuum. Today there is no known limit to it. or rath er to the capacity of new instruments to detect it. Some electrical en gineers believe that messages could be sent to the moon, and perhaps out into infinite space through the ether Just as easity as from San Francisco to Honoir*fJ through the atmosphere. With a'u this, no man can tel; wnat electrify is. All v.e know about it is that when a certain thing is done certain results follow.—New York Commercial. Professional Pot Boiling. When a historian or biologist spends part of his time in coaching or extension lecturing in order that the rest of it may be devoted to his researches, these subsidiary functions must obviously be classified under the heading of potboiling. He teaches in order that he may have time and money fcr study. The educational enthusiast, on the other hand, studies that he may teach; be regards teaching as the one thing in the world which it is a privilege to be allowed to do. and therefore re joices if he is permitted to give his didactic impulses full play without having to divert any of his energies into some less fascinating pursuit. Dally Thought We insensibly Imitate what we ha bitually admire.—Chesterfield. For teaching a colored boy to climb a tree, nothing beats a bulldog. he Coral | I. B. MATTHEWS \ j ^ ^##»»##»»»^»»»#########»»»####^ ^ blWl«I«n<;-r.l?H'tg:!gl|ggSt3',«|g;>tml!«]K|K]«MB!gKI (Copyright. 1916. by W. G. Chapman.) "Hands up!” Old Zekiel Grow, butler, coachman, in fact general major domo of the Brunelle household, gave a shiver and a gulp. Then his long scrawny fists went up in the air. “Now then, blow the top of his head off, he lets out a whimper or moves an inch. The mischief!” One of two highwaymen had abrupt ly entered the hall of the Brunelle home that calm summer afternoon to startle poor, faithful old Zekiel half out of his wits. The light face mask he wore had suddenly come loose. Old Zekiel stared, sputtered, looked ap palled. Then the main malefactor ran up the stairs. He evidently had studied the lay of the ground previous to this actual mo ment of the raid. Inr.tantly he chose the most pretentious and boudoirlike of the sleeping apartments. A sc ore of pretty tokens of feminine vanity and daintiness upon the bureau guided the intruder. The latter pulled open the drawers with true professional rapidity. He tossed over their contents swiftly. At last his hands closed about a richly inlaid box. It was locked, but he drew a chisel from his pocket and roughly pried off the cover. “It’s a rich haul, just as 1 knew it would be,” he chuckled gleefully— “now for a get-away!” The marauder transferred the glit tering baubles in the box to his pock il. I , ' 'I 'if Hands Up!” ets, tossed their former receptacle into a corner of the room and descended the stairs in three bounds. Old Zekiel stood as he had left him—rigid, erect, looking into the barrel of the gleam ing weapon presented by thief No. 2. “Gentlemen—’ began Zekiel, mildly and beseechingly. “Stow that!" growled the man who had led in the foray. Then he whipped out a revolver from his hip pocket, dealt Zekiel a sharp blow on the head with its butt and the old man sank to the floor dazed, half stunned and as If in a trance saw the two robbers mount their horses outside and s*iftly disappear. One hour later Judge Brunelle and his daughter drove up to their home to find old Zekiel in a frantic state of agitation. The judge looked serious, and pretty lone sat down and cried as if her heart would break, when she ascertained that the heartless de spoilers had made off with all her jew elry and keepsakes. "It was Black Donald," asserted Zekiel. "Judge, I saw him—I know him.” “Nonsense!” dissented the judge. “Black Donald went to New Mexico two years ago.” “Then he’s come back again,” de clared Zekiel. “I'd swear to him, judge." The judge forthwith consulted the police. Two years previously, back in their mountain fastnesses, the des perate, unruly gang headed by the no torious Black Donald, modern outlaws and daring lawbreakers of the district, had been broken up and driven out. Since then, except for occasional thefts from farmers and forcible as sault upon stray intruders upon their "domain.” the remnants of the gang had made little trouble in the section. insianuy me local omcers were on the trail. Within an hour after the judge had returned home to console his daughter three visitors appeared. They were young men, friends of lone. They wanted to become lovers. They were the favored trio of the numer ous contingent of which pretty lone Brunelle was the center and queen. There was Walt Afton, tall, distin guished, indolent of movement and speech. He was a scion of a wealthy family, as was his companion, Burt Willis. The latter was studying medi cine with the veteran doctor of the district, but was slow and neglectful of his educational opportunities. And there was Ned Powers, just blooming* Into the full fame of the law—sturdy, but with force and character in his open, handsome face. Walt was the spokesman. “We heard about the robbery," he Announced, in his leisurely, drawling way. "We came to sympathize with Miss Brunelle, to offer our services.” “Thanks,” bowed the judge, “but the police are on the scent and we have a sure clue a3 to the identity of the thief.” “Indeed?” commented young Willis. “Yes—it was Black Donald.” Walt fidgeted. Burt looked over his shoulder as if afraid of something. Ned Powers spoke up promptly. “I know Black Donald,” he said quickly. “If you are certain of that, judge, I think I could penetrate his haunts.” / "lone is too distressed to see you young gentlemen,” said the Judge. "She cares very slightly for the loss of her diamonds, for they can be re placed. There was. however, a coral necklace her dead mother gave her years ago when she was a child. In trinsically it is worthless, but I would give a small fortune to recover it." "I shall send for a city detective at once.” announced Walt—“a corps of them, if necessary. That necklace shall be recovered!” "I Know relatives of some of the old gang,” observed Burt. "I’ll see if they won't help me recover it.” Ned Powers said nothing, but there was a set expression of resolve in his face as he left the place, and Walt observed laughingly: “We are all in the race, fellows. I fancy the one who recovers that sto len necklace will stand in high favor with Miss Brunelle." So at least Ned Powers thought and believed, and he went on his w-ay, tak ing no counsel and detailing naught of his plans to his chattering compan ions. Walt made a call at the Brunelle home two evenings later. He made a great play before lone of his vast ef forts to have Black Donald apprehend ed and the stolen necklace recovered. Then came Burt. A relative of one of the mountain families was undei obligations to him and he had gone to see if he could not secretly ferret out the thieves and the booty. But lone thought little of their in terest in her behalf. One of her cava tiers wafe simply spending his money with plenty to spend. Neither under took any personal risk. Then both valorous champions cam* up against disappointment and cha grin. The detectives learned that Black Donald after the raid had stayeo only two days with his friends and had gone back to New Mexico, presum ably with his plunder. The emissary of Burt simply aroused suspicion for his investigations and learned nothing of importance. “Father, what has become of Mr Powers?” one day lone inquired, and there was a conscious blush on her pretty face which the judge did not fail to notice N'ed Powers answered the inquiry in person two days lat.*r. Bronzed, tat tered, weather-worn, he came into the town. His first call was at the Bru nelle home. Its object was to place in the hands of its lovely young mis tress the cherished coral necklace. lone went extravagantly wild over it. Her eyes sparkled with gratitude and admiration for the one man who had risked his life to restore to her a precious memento. “I recovered it from a sister of Black Donald,” explained Ned. "The rest ot the plunder her brother took away with him.” A month later the engagement o! lone and Ned was announced. One afternoon the happy pair were seated in a hammock, conversing. "You are sure you never cared for anyone but me?” inquired lone. "Never!” was the stanch, truthful reply. "Nor—nor ever flirted with any other girl!” persisted lone. “Once.” Her fair brow shadowed. "Yes,” admitted Ned, writh a quizzi cal smile—"it was by paying strong court to the sister of Black Donald that I got hold of the coral necklace.” "Oh. that doesn't count!” cried lone effusively—“that was simply the strat egy of war!” and she rewarded him with a kiss of perfect confidence and love. WHY MOTHER SINGS TO BABY Primeval Call of Feminine Nature, According to Scientists Who Have Studied the Subject. Psychologists who have carefully studied the characteristics of instinct in woman have discovered just why mothers sing their babies to sleep. It is not merely inspired by the expec tation of better sleep in their children but it is the primeval call of the femi nine nature. It is a maternal prompt ing which occurs naturally to each mother. Savage mothers who are never known to sing upon other occasions invariably hum and croon to their children at night, and upon one other instance—when they are planting seed. It is a peculiarity of the Zuni native women and one which has been but recently understood. The theory of primitive people is that there is some mysterious connec tion between the sound of a woman’s voice and growing things. Height of Meteors. Meteors, or shooting stars, are small solid bodies that fall through space, become incandescent in the at mosphere of the earth, and usually dis appear in the form of gas or dust. If two observers stationed several miles apart see the same shooting star and note the point in the sky where it ap peared they can construct a hypo thetical triangle, the apex of which is the point of appearance of the meteor, and thus obtain the approximate height of the shooting star when it first became visible. For a long period of years, it appears, a German observer employed this method of estimating the height of shooting stars. From careful observations of no less than 102 meteors he found that the mean height at which shooting stars first be come visible is 81 miles. The mean height of the point at which they dis appear is about 59 miles, and the av erage length of their visible path 45 miles. Little Paris Green in America. Paris green, deadliest enemy of the potato bug, is no longer obtainable in this country. The extinction was ef fected gradually. Today there is less than 500 pounds of paris green in the country and the holders of the goods demand all the way from 21 to 50 cents per pound, according to the quantity desired. Urgent inquiries for the product are heard from Louisville and elsewhere. Main Question. "The new customer says his ances tors came across with the Puritans." “What interests me more is can he come across with the dough." I OWE MY HEALTH To Lydia EL Pinkham’s Veg etable Compound. Washington Park, 111. — "I am the mother of four children and have suf fered with female trouble, backache, nervous spells and the blues. My chil dren’s loud talking and romping would make me so nervous I could just tear everything to pieces and I would ache all over and feel so sick that I would not want anyone to talk w me h.l Limes, l^yuia n,. ririKnani s Vegetable Compound and Liver Pills re stored me to health and I want to thank you for the good they have done me. I have had quite a tit of trouble and worry but it does not affect my youth ful looks. My friends say ‘ Why do you look so young and well ? ’ I owe it all to the Lydia E. Pinkham remedies.” —Mrs. Robt. Stopiel, Moore Avenue, Washington Park, Illinois. We wish every woman who suffers from female troubles, nervousness, backache or the blues could see the let ters written by women made well by Ly dia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. If you have any symptom about which you would like to know write to the Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co., Lynn, Mass., for helpful advice given free of charge. Don’t Persecute Your Bowels Cut out cathartics and purgatives. They ar? brutal, harsh, unnecessary. Try^fs^ CARTER’S LITTLE .dUPK LIVER PILLS Purely vegetable. Act gently on the liver, A eliminate bile, and A soothe the delicate membrane of bowel. Cur Constipation, Biliousness, Sick Head Barter's ftTTLE ilVER [PILLS. biuc nuu luuigcsuuu, as iniuiuus inow. SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine must bear Signature Might Better Have Said Nothing. Judge—Prisoner at the bar, have you anything to say for yourself? Prisoner—Yes, m'lud; I admits I’m i vagabon’ and a thief; but yer ought er be werry thankful l m here and let me orf lightly. Judge—How do you make that out? Prisoner—Well, suppose we blokes •vent on a strike and turned honest, what would yer ludship and sich as you do fur a livin'?” Judge (severely)—I'm—five years’ oenaL servitude.—London Mail. BANISH PIMPLES QUICKLY Easily and Cheaply by Using Cuticura Soap and Ointment. Trial Free. Smear the pimples lightly with Cuti cura Ointment on end of finger and allow it to remain on five minutes, rhen. bathe with hot water and Cuti cura Soap and continue some minutes, rhis treatment is best upon rising and retiring, but is effective at any time Free sample each by mail with Book. Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. L, Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv. Times Change. "What? You need new clothes again? When I wTas a boy I wasn't ashamed to wear garments that were patched." “Yes, dad, but you know you didn't associate with such refined people as l do.” Imporrant to Mothers Examine carefully every bottle oi CASTORIA, a safe and sure remedy for infants and children, and see that it Bears the Signature of i In Use for Over 30 Years. Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoria Test. “What is a square meal?” "It's one when you kin feel the cor ners stickin’ you.” Piles Cured in 6 tc 14 Days Druggists refund money if PAZO OINTMENT falls ,0 cure Itcding, Blind, Bleeding or Protruding rtles. First application gives relief. 60c. When the world frowns, we can face It; but let it smile, and we are andone.—Lytton. Dr. Pierce’s Pellets are best for liver, jowels and stomach. One little Pellet for i laxative—three for a cathartic.—Adv. Matrimonial bonds are not always i safe and profitable Investment. Makes Work a Burden A bad back makes hard work harder. All day the dull throb and the sharp, darting pains make you miserable, and there’s no rest at night. Maybe it’s your daily work that hurts the kidneys, for jarring, jolting, lifting, reaching, dampness and many other strains do weaken them. Cure the kidneys. Use Doan’s Kidney Pills. They have helped thousands and should do as well for you. Thousands recommend them. An Iowa Case J . D . Hayden. Ttn»• Route No. l, Viola. svnu( iiutu work weakened my kidneys and caused * backache. When I/Q stooped a sharp rjF pain seized me.'wl nearly doubling me acted too frequent- 111 ly and the secretions were highly col ored. Finally I used Doan’s Kidney Pills and they rid me.of the ailments.” Get Doan's at Any Store, 50c a Baa DOAN'S FOSTER-MILBURN CO, BUFFALO. N. Y. ^ W. N. U, OMAHA, NO. 8-1916.