Nebraska Newspapers

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rrHE STORY OF\
1 A MAN WHO j
ylN HIS OWN j
LITTLE WORLD/
ABOARD/SHIP
WAS A LAW
UNTO-HIMSELF^
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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.