rTIPPECANOE I
By SAMUEL McCOY
Recounting the adventures and love which came into
the lives of David Larrence and Antoinette O'Ban
non, in the days when pioneers were fighting red
savages in the Indiana wilderness ->
(Copyright, 1916, by Bobbe-Merrill Co.)
CHAPTER XXIIi.—Continued.
—8—
. She shrank away from his filthy
fcaml in unutterable loathing and
threw herself face downward in a par
ixvsm of weeping. The music of the
Jrums and fifes had ceased. Outside,
die camp buzzed wjth activity. The
Prophet bent the reJ cup of his eye
ess socket over a It pful of grotesque
amulets, muttering incantations to
ftiinself.
Girty passed his hand soothingly
#ver tlie trembling shoulders of the
firl. and patted tlu tangled, silken
;loud of her hair.
“I kaiu’t blame ye. my dear, fur not
fakin' a likin' to seth a ugly ole crit
ter as I be, but I've hed a hard life,
ny dear,, a hard life. I been ornery.
I'll grant ye. I been ornery, but I been
sbleegeil to be. They’s a lot o’ pesky
siean uien in this world, uiy dear, an’
I've hed to tight hard agin ’em. I’ve
Seen waitin’ fur a likely young gal
like you so es I kin go into the settle
aients on the Canady side and live
juiet, like a king. I'm askin’ ye quiet
to go with tne, ye see?”
Toinette only sobbed.
“Ain't thet fair, es I put it to ye?
What kin be fairer nor thet? I kin
lee thet es pretty es a picter—me an’
foil o-settin' in front of the fire, me
a-readin’ in the Book about the hles
led Lamb o’ God. Oh, ye may know
I was es good es any on ’em when I
was a leetle devil. I hed a good old
aiother!”
Toinette wondered to hear him name
fiis mother. She made no reply, and
he suddenly burst in a string of the
foulest oaths, cursing and bjasphein
Ing. But he offered her no violence.
He still hoped to find some officer in
Malden who would pay a rich price
for her. And such a purchaser would
demand tier physically sound. For
this Jie had seen to it that no war
rior had harmed her; and lie meant
to claim his money in the end.
The drums had begun again, loud,
defiant; hut instead of drawing nearer
their music passed farther and farther
away, fainter and fainter. Eikska
tuws stole cautiously from the tent.
Suddenly there swept over Toinette
tiie realization that Girty had lied—
liie fifes were playing an air that red
?oats never marched to—the stirring
swing of “The President's March!”
She leaped to her feet, her eyes blaz
ing. Fainter and fainter came the air
to which she unconsciously fitted the
triumphant words:
—wlio fought and bled in Freedom's
cause.
And when the storm of war was past—
r-'
* “Listen !” she cried. “ 'Tis the men
from home!” She faced Girty, and
all her days of dread, all her hours of
suffering were forgotten. “I have
prayed to God and he has answered
uie!”
For a moment Girty was silent tie
fore the white radiance of her faith;
hut lie threw off his hesitancy with
a sneering laugh.
“A pretty lot of good fhot handful
o’ sheep kin do," he snarled. “By sun
down tomorry we’ll bring ye ever' one
of their wet skelps fur ye to play
Weth.” He stepped hastily outdoors,
and assuring himself that the troops
had defiled from view, he returned,
and, seizing Toinette’s arm, dragged
tier roughly from the tent. As she
passed out into the raw November
wind, Toinette shivered.
“Ye kin see fer yerself they hain't
any on yer precious sogers brave
enough ter fight a papoose, let alone
all these braves.” he said tauntingly.
The innumerable warriors of the
Prophet, hideous in war-paint, stalk
ing to and fro among the tents of the
village, contemptuous of the cautious
whites, lent support to his boast. Toi
nette looked helplessly from side to
side, seeking some avenue of escape,
uud hope died in her eyes.
CHAPTER XIV.
The Battle.
Soundlessly, in the dark hour after
midnight, the great war-bow of the In
dian was strung. But the camp of the
Americans slept. A light rain fell. It
Wats nearly dawn. %
Suddenly through the black mist
spat the red flame of a rifle; with the
flame and the crack came the sound
af a man running. It was the Ken
tuckian, Stephen Mars, of Geiger's
company, an outpost. A dozen rifles
hi the hands of crawling Indians rang
out; he fell in the wet and tangled
brush, his face in the sodden ground.
The night, which had been sound
less save for the soft rush of the rain
and the dripping of the water from
tlie trees, suddenly became filled with
the stir :md uproar of the awakening
camr* with the whooping of the hid
den foe, striking in the dark.
David awoke from sleep and hound
ed to his feet. A hand clutched his
wrist and dragged him down again,
while a voice commanded, “Keep low!”
He saw that all the others in the
Company were quickly, silently look
ing to their rifles, but that all re
gained crouching on the ground. The
yells of the Indians seemed loudest
at the extreme left, where Geiger’s
horsemen stood, and at the extreme
right, where Spencer’s riflemen lay be
hind their kneeling horses. Before his
own company, which, with the other
militia companies of Wilson, Norris
and Wilkins, was stationed in the cen
ter of the rear line, the woods lay
auiet, Seemingly empty of any Indians.
* David turned about and glanced
toward the center of the camp. Fifty
yards away were the tents of the offi
cers, lighted up by the campfires. He
could distinguish the figures of them
all. They were all fully dressed und
were buckling on their sword-belts as
they talked. Harrison was standing
._whilo «n orderlv
Hargrove, divining that it was the
general’s intention to ride away
toward the points where the savages
were attacking in numbers, struck
David on the shoulder in his hurry:
“Go ask Colonel Decker if we are
to stand here! Quick, before General
Harrison goes!”
David ran toward the officers. As
he reached them. Harrison succeeded
in getting his foot into the stirrup and
threw himself into the saddle. Decker
was about to mount. David saluted
as he ran. crying, “Is Captain Har
grove to stand where he is?”
Harrison answered before the colon
el could reply:
“All the captains are to hold their
companies as they stand! You will
do nothing but hold the ground until
light enough to advance!”
He gathered up the reins and with
a bound, was gone through the falling
mist, Boyd, Owen. Hurst, Taylor,
Washington Johnston and Daviess
urging their horses at his heels.
I »avld ran hack toward his captain.
The horrid tumult at the northwest
and south-east angles grew louder. Da
vid listened with an excitement that
tilled his ears with tile sound of his
own heart's throbbing. Two hundred
yards away the rities cracked in a
ceaseless sputter.
The drums began. The orderly
drummer at the officers’ tents was
beating the long roil; the steady un
varying tattoo spread its imperious
summons through the night with a
sound that forced its way through all
the wilder babel of the camp. David
wondered why it had not begun soon
er ; it did not seem possible that not
sixty seconds had elapsed since the
lirst alarm had been given.
A cold gust made tlie raindrops
waver. He became conscious that his
teeth were chattering. Two men,
wriggling on the ground, succeeded in
scattering the fire so that its light
died down to the embers. David saw
tlie other company fires go out, one
by one. But they had not all been ex
tinguished soon enough.
As the light of the tires died out the
flashing of the rifles became more
plainly visible. The damp air was
heavy with the acrid smell of powder
smoke. In the swamp.at the east Da
vid could see the flames of the Indi
ans' rifles twinkling like fireflies.
Tlie uproar at the northwest angle
of the camp, two hundred yards away,
grew louder. David strained his eyes
through the darkness but distin
guished nothing. Suddenly from tlie
dark angle a trumpet blared out its
immemorial summous to Charge. On
the last note arose a burst of cheer
ing.
“Charging!” ejaculated Hargrove
at David's side.
It was the plan of tlie Indians to
wait until a girdle had been formed
on three sides of the camp, where a
simultaneous attack might be made,
north, east and south; tint before they
had completed this detour of the
wooded plateau the impatient sav
ages stationed at the northwest cor
ner had drawn in closer and closer
to the American sentries in their ea
gerness to rush in. It was one of
these whom Stephen Mars had heard
gliding through the wet underbrush;
and at the report of his rifle the In
dians threw aside concealment and
began the onset on the north flunk of
the little army, without waiting for
more of their numbers to complete the
circle ou the east front.
And so the men of Geiger’s Ken
tucky Rifles and those of Captain
Burton’s regular troops, forming tlie
northwest angle, awoke to find a hun
dred shadowy forms rushing on them
with the cries of wild beasts. Their
answering fire burnt the very breasts
of the Indians and lighted up the
painted, hideous faces. There was no
time to reload; the rifles became clubs
that swung and crashed against rili
and skull, or red warrior and white
went down locked in the terrible em
brace which the bloody knife alone,
rising and falling, might end.
But tlie angle held firm. When Har
rison, and his staff reined in their
horses at the spot, the hand-to-hand
conflict was over, and the savages had
retreated to the shelter of trees,
where they might have time to reload
their guns. Behind therrt they left a
score of dead and dying of their own
number; but some bore at their belts
the dripping scalps of the newly slain.
It was then that the trumjieter, at
Major Wells’ command, had placed
the trumpet to his lips and blown the
charge. With a cheer, the men of
Barton’s company heard the order re
peated by their own captain and went
ahead at a run. Only a dozen or so
of Geiger’s men had been able to se
cure their frightened horses at the
trumpet call, but these, riding from
tree to tree, drove the baffled Indians
before them into the willows by the
creek, where the horses could go no
farther. From the angle came an aide
with Harrison’s order to sound the re
call. i
They came back. It was wisdom
that saved them from being cut off
from the main body of the troops. For
the tight had just begun. Only a little
breathing space they had; and in it
they looked upon the faces of their
dead.
The commander and his staff in
spected the lines, letting their horses
pick their way through the trees,
through the darkness, loose-reined;
each company, as they passed ft,
pleading to be allowed to go into the
thick of the fight, and the commander
counseling each to hold its ground,
until at last they came to Norris’ and
Warrick’s companies at the corner ol
the right flank and, here found Spier
Spencer’s riflemen from Corydon In
'l
such as Geiger’s and Barton’s com
panies had just gone through.
At this moment David heard some
one calling to his captain. He strained
his eyes through the infst, and as the
man ran up to Hargrove, David rec
ognized him as Georgie Croghan. Cap
tain Hargrove spoke sharply:
“What’s the matter?”
Croghan saluted. “The chief sur
geon has requested Colonel Decker
to let him have some assistance. We
have only three surgeon’s mates. We
need more help with the stretchers.
Can you detail someone, sir?”
Hargrove named Barrence and
Cockrum; they hurried away as Cro
ghun led. From company to company
they ran. lifting the dead and wound
ed on rude litters and bearing them
to the shelter of the wagons in the
center of the camp; here they left
their burdens and went back for a sec
ond and a third time, and each time
found some new victim.
And then David was in the thick
of the panting struggle which Spier
Spencer’s men were enduring. The
horses lay on the ground, and from
over their backs the riflemen fired into
the darkness peopled with the vague
shapes of the howling savages; but
the horses, terrorized by the upfoar
and mysterious stinging things that
tore them, tried again and again to
rise; their masters kept them down
only by superhuman exertions.
There was a momentary lull; from
across the little valley where the rush
ing creek gurgled among the willows
there came a strange and wild chant
ing; high above the groans and the
sounds of hurrying feet it rose, the
sonorous cadence of the aborigine’s
prayer to the Great Munitou, the fa
ther of all.
“’Tis the Shawnee Prophet, singing
his own song,” said Dubois, the inter
preter at Harrison’s side.
David looked at General Harrison.
The silent horseman seemed to have
gathered in his eyes all the' tremen
dous tragedy of the despairing race
of red men. And then a grim smile
crossed his face, as he reflected that
he and his little army, uncouth, pro
fane, greedy for material things, sor
did as all humanity, was the flaming
sword of the progress of humanity—
driving out the old order, substituting
the new.
The song of Elkskatawa, the Proph
et, the Loud Voice, went on. The
white men heard it and were troubled.
The red men heard It and grew drunk
tteW-ToW \ aV
VaivaITiaX:
“ ’Tis the Shawnee Prophet, Singing
His Own Song.”
with audacity. “The bullets of the
white man shall fall at your feet, my
children, and their powder shall be
sand!” How could they be harmed?
Again their wild attack commenced;
they left the shelter of trees and
fallen log and charged the slender line
that held the right flunk. Harrison
shouted orders to his aids:
“Send Robb's company here for re
enforcement ! Tell Major Floyd to
place Prescott’s company in Robb's
position. Send Snelling to the north
west angle, Cook and Baen here! Tell
Colonel Decker to send Wilson’s com
pany to the northwest angle, Colonel
Bartholomew to send Scott's company
with Wilson’s!”
The night was slowly giving place
to the gray dawn. A faint light stole
gradually through the dripping
branches. David could see how yel
low the faces of the wounded looked
in the pale break of day. Baen, lie
knew, was woipuled mortally, Barthol
omew hurt.
As he neared the center of the
camp, Robb’s Mounted Rifles, 7G men,
went by him with a rush, the gallop
ing hoofs thudding on the wet turf.
Here and there the smoldering embers
of the campfires blazed up again. Da
vid went on with the sickening work
of the hospital corps.
He was carrying a wounded man to
the shelter of the wagons when iittle
Jimmy Spencer, Captain Spencer’s
fourteen-year-old son, ran from the
tents and clutched him by the sleeve,
begging to be told if his father was
unhurt. David answered the boy re
assuringly; he had just seen the cap
tain cheering on his men, a bloody
handkerchief tied about his head.
When they went back to the right,
.Timmy ran at David's side, refusing to
stay behind.
“Father!” he cried, and the soldier
turned at the hail. He was about to
warn the boy to go back when a bullet
struck him in the hip and passed
through both thighs; he tottered urfd
fell.
“Go back to the tent, son.” he said,
smiling. “Tour mother will need you
if I don’t go home.”
He drew the boy down and kissed
him. For a long minute he rested rill
his faintness passed; and then he be
gan calling to his men to fight on.
Suddenly the voice ceased altogether
as a ball tore its way through bis
'___
With the fife’s shrill music in their
ears, the Yellow Jackets held their
ground, though MacMahan, who took
Spencer’s place, fell dead, and Berry,
his second lieutenant, fell also; held
it for two hours in the face of the
frenzied attack of the Indians.
The men with the litters were very
busy; not only here but back at }he
northwest angle, where the first attack
had been made. At the opposite angle
Jo Daviess was still chafing with im
patience. From behind a log. sev
enty yards away, a dozen Indian
sharpshooters were pouring a wicked
fire into the mass of tethered horses
of the three squadrons of dragoons—
Parke’s. Funk’s and Beggs’ companies.
Twice Daviess had sent to Harrison
for permission to charge and dislodge
them. The stripling Croghan carried
his third request. Presently Croghan
came back on the run. He was wild
with delight.
“Tell Major Daviess,” Harrison had
said, “that he has heard my opinion
twice; he may now use his own dis
cretion.”
“God be praised!” ejaculated Da
viess. Hastily he called for twenty
volunteers. Quickly they threw them
selves in the saddle. David saw them
dash across the little space between
the line and the log where the Indians
were hidden and saw the spurts of
red flame run along the top of the log.
For every flash of fife a trooper reeled
in his saddle; at the front rode Da
viess, the idol of the backwoodsmen.
As the red warriors began to break
and scatter from behind the log, the
last of their rifles rang out together,
and the Kentuckian rose in his stir
rups, clutched at his breast, and
pitched headlong.
As he saw Daviess fall, David drew
a deep breath and begun to run across
the wet and slippery grass that lay
between the camp and the ambuscad
ing woods beyond. The bullets ripped
viciously through the dripping weeds
and tore into the frozen ground at
his feet. He heard shouts of warn
ing, like voices in a dream, behind
him; but he paid no heed and reached
the Kentuckian’s side unhurt. He
placed his hand under Daviess’ shoul
ders and the dead weight sickened
him. Three men from Parke’s com
pany ran out and joined him as he
strove to lift the body; with a des
perate heave they raised up the dying
man and staggered buck toward the
line of riflemen.
The men of Parke's and Beggs’ dra
goons began to cheer as the four men
laid their unconscious burden down in
safety, and the exultant yells spread
like fire from end to end of the little
plateau; for Daviess had been struck
at the very moment when the attack
of the savages had ceased, and from
group to group of powder-grimed and
bloodstained riflemen ran the shouts
of victory.
The sky had scarcely lightened. The
trees still dripped with rain. They
had been fighting less than four hours;
and the baffled Prophet, his incanta
tions futile, his power shattered, was
flying through the woods. A hundred
of his braves lay upon the sodden
field; the rest had faded away like the
mist that drifted through the forest.
All day the men rested, caring for
the wounded, burying the dead, repair
ing their rifles. All day Daviess lay
beneath the tree where they had
placed him, his life slowly ebbing out;
and when at last his eyes closed, they
buried him by the side of Thomas
Randolph, the Virginian, his friend.
The battle was won; and, although
they did not know it then, this hand
ful of men had saved to the nation an
empire. Men threw themselves on the
ground, tlie dreadful tension relaxed;
young John Tipton scrawled in his
daily journal; hut David could not
rest.
In the night that followed he wrest
ed in agony with his fear for Toinette.
At dawn they were to attack the
Prophet’s village. Would she be
found there, living or dead? He could
not shut from his eyes the picture of
what dreadful signs might be found
in the tents—a torn robe, a tress of
blood-stained hair, even her body—he
shuddered and the cold sweat stood
upon his forehead. At lust dawn came
and the men were once more un
leashed.
CHAPTER XV.
On Wildcat Creek.
Toinette was dead. The news came
to David and left him without hope
or aim or wish for life. One of the
Indian prisoners told the horrible
story of her death to his captors, with
a gleam of fiendish malevolence in his
eyes.
David shuddered as he had not
among all the carnage of battle, and
his limbs tottered beneath him. Some
one of the soldiers raised up his rifle
and struck down the boaster as if he
were crushing a snake. No one held
back his hand.
One, with awkward sympathy, put
hiA hand on the shoulder of the
shaken David anil led him back to the
American camp. Behind them the
ruined village lay smoldering in the
November sun; hut David himself
walked as in a dreiun. Men who met
him stepped aside in silence, to let
him pass, daring to ask no question.
Behind him rose the wailing of the
Indian women, mourning for their
dead, wailing among the trampled
maize; and the unutterable sorrow in
his heart grew heavier beneath their
unending lamentation as the stalks of
corn are beaten to the sodden ground
in tlie cold rains of the dying year.
Mechanically lie took up his work of
watching over the wounded In the
heavy wagons. The camp was struck,
the homeward journey begun.
The suffering of the men in the
wagons was torture indescribable.
Over the uneven ground the oxen
dragged the lumbering carts, the
wooden disks that served as wheels
slipping and jolting over rocks aud
into ditches with a cruelty which was
no less heartrending because it was
unavoidable. The carts were spring
less. Hot with fever under the icy
wind and racked with the terrific jolt
ing, the wounded men raved, cursed,
sang In delirium. Of the 151 wounded!
25 died on the merciless journey from
the battlefield to the blockhouse on
the Vermilion river, where the boats
had been left. Day and night David
, heard their pitiful moaning, the
---—* ,,J.1 it h ** fnmrpoi.
tions and the incoherent wanderings
of their tortured minds:
“A tubful of honey in the lean-to
and the bear got it”—“That bull went
through the hoop”—“Make the stock
ade higher”—“From Kaskasky with
Georgie Clark, I tell ye”-“The An
gel Gabriel set his feet on those
stones”—“That calf’s got the milk
sick”—“No, dearie, there ain't no more
meal”—“Teacher, may I get a fresh
quill?”—“I’m a old man an’ I want
some whisky”—“All the Federalists’
scheming”—“Water! ain’t there even
some rainwater?”—“Oh, Molly, Molly,
Molly!”—“Watch the right flank ! The
right flank .'"—“Water! Water!”
Three miles below Tippecanoe the
fleeing Prophet made a night’s camp
on Wildcat creek, the Panse Pichou
of the French. Dubois’ scouts found
the warm ashes of his campfire there
and close by one of the guides picked
up a bit of lace. The man put it in
the pocket of his shirt and brought it
back to the marching column. David
was among the men who crowded
about him to gaze at the tiny shred
of cloth; and having seen it he put
out his hand and took it, and no man
said him no; for they saw that he
had recognized it as a part of a gar
ment of Antoinette O’Bunnon, whom
lie had loved and who was slain. Wil
lingly the man who had found the
Cloth led David, at his request, back
to the ashes of the fire and there left
him in silence; and for a long time
David stood looking at the ground
where Toinette’s feet last had been.
The frozen wilderness was very still.
The bare branches of the forest
creaked and groaned in the November
gusts, but there was no sound of hu
man life. On a dead limb a mottled
woodpecker with a scarlet cap
searched industriously and vainly for
its food. A sleek, brown-furred bea
ver crawled to the top of the stream’s
bank, looked inquiringly at the mo
tionless figure brooding over the ashes
of the fire, and slid back into the wa
ter with a splash. Deep in the woods
a flock of wild turkeys clucked among
the underbrush. And so standing, Da
vid tasted to the dregs the bitterness
of his failure, the numbing conscious
ness of irremediable loss; tasted the
bitterness of helpless defeat and spent
his hour of agony and vain self
reproach, while the grim forest shut
him in with silence.
A rifle cracked.
The ball knocked the cap from Da
vid’s head. An inch to the right and
he would have fallen, his skull shat
tered ; but he had bent his head at
the very moment when the hidden
marksman’s finger pressed the trigger
He was all alone; only his own
speed and quickness of resource saved
him.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
“STATE” ONLY A MEMORY
But for Four Years Franklin Took
Rank With Its Sisters Under the
Stars and Stripes.
Historically curious, but almost for
gotten, is tiie fact that the state of
Franklin existed in this country be
tween 1784 and 1788. Many emigrants
from North Carolina had crossed the
mountains and settled in what is now
known as East Tennessee. The terri
tory belonged to North Carolina, but
the state, government had not been
able to give it much attention. Owing
to financial and other troubles North
Carolina ceded the territory to the
general government. The inhabitants
did not relish tliej idea of thus being
cast adrift so unceremoniously, sc !
they organized a state and set tip a
government of their own. To theit \
new commonwealth they gave the
name “Franklin,” after the Phiiadel
phia philosopher. But congress de
clined to recognize the new state, and 1
North Carolina raised strong objec
tions. The latter withdrew the ces
siou to the government, and undertook
to resume control of the territory. A
long quarrel ensued between the North j
Carolina state government and the i
citizens of “Franklin." The leader of
the latter was “Governor” Sevier ;
while a Colonel Tipton represented the !
former. There was an immense
amount of bickering and much eonfu |
sion, hut very little bloodshed. .1 j
finally ended in North Carolina re
sliming control of the territory, and
“the state of Franklin” was knowD
no more.
Mammy Wasn’t Educated in Law.
“Mammy” Washington seemed very
ill at ease in court. She admitted tc
the judge that it was her first time or j
“polecceman ground.” Considerable j
difficulty was experienced in making
her answer questions. She would go [
just so far and then stop, all afluster i
The judge hit upon a scheme.
“There is no need for you to be ex
cited. Mrs. Washington,” he said, with
a smile. “I’m just a judge and you arc
just you.”
At last the old negress found het
tongue.
“I)at's jes’ hit, suh,” she cried, ex
plosively. “I is me. but yo’ isn’t you, in
(iem spec's, and wid dat crokny mallei
in yo’ hun’. Ef yo’ could fix hit fer tc j
talk dis over in a kitchen, I'd be all
right, jedge!”—Case and Comment.
-- I
Steam-Driven seaplanes.
Navy department experiments indi
cate that steam-driven seaplanes may
solve the motor problem of air naviga
tion. Many officers believe that only
the question of getting the weight of
the steam plant down to the lowest
VOSsible figure remains to be answered
! before a steamer of the air is con
structed and tried out.
Steam equipment would guarantee
constancy of power upon which aero
planes depend for stability. Most ac
cidents to aviators, it is pointed out,
may lie due to failure of motors. Steam
turbines also would provide power fat
in excess of anything' now obtainable
with gasoline engines, it is said, a fac
tor vital to the navy, since seaplanes
are much heavier than aeroplanes fot
service over land.
Some Nightmare!
Flukes—I had a fearful dream last
night.
Dukes—What was it?
Flukes—I dreamed that I was a cen
tipede and had a corn on every toe.
Each man In the regular army (>
said to cost Great Britain $1,.1<m> •
vear.
Society Girls' Fad.
The latest fad among some of the
New York society girls is to have the
picture of the man they expect to wed
photographed on their wrist. The re
cent experiments in photography have
developed this means whereby photos
may be printed on the human skin.
Usually the likeness is taken on the
wrist. It is no larger than a five-cent
piece and can be covered by a brace
let or wrist watch. The prints made
upon the skin serve somewhat the
same purpose as tatoo marks, since
they are practically indelible. A pho
tographic film of special composition
is fixed to the skin and exposed to fhe
sun for printing. Some strong prints
have been made this way.
Wheel Farmer.
She—My father, you know, is one
of the most successful truck raisers in
the South.
He—You don’t mean it; where is his
farm located?
She—Hasn’t any ! He works in the
car shops.—Selected.
Did you ever notice that the size of
trouble is your cue to start the confla
gration yourself.
HAVE HEALTH
TO YOUR CREDIT
One of Nature's most
valuable aids in the
promotion and main
tenance of perfect
health is
OSTETTERS
Stomach Bitters
IT TONES
STRENGTHENS
AND INVIGORATES
the digestive system. Tryjt
CASTORIA
For Infants and Children.
Mothers Know That
Genuine Castoria
Always
Bears the
Signaturei
of
• In
Use.
For Over
Thirty Years
cusnmw
Exact Copy of Wrapper. Tmi okwtwh —wunr. wow tow crrr.
COLT DISTEMPER
Tou can prevent this loathsome disease from running
through your stable and cure all the colts suffering with
it when you begin the treatment. No matter how young.
SPOHN’S is safe to use on any colt. It is wonderful how
it prevents all distempers, no matter how colts or horses
at any age are “exposed.” All good druggists and turf
goods houses and manufacturers sell SPOHJi’S at 50 cents
and $1 a bottle; $5 and $10 a dozen. SPOHN MKDICAL
CO., Chemists and Bacteriologists, Goshen, lnd., 1). S. A.
PUT AWAY CHILDISH THINGS
Ten-Year-Old Considered Himself
Grown Up, and Wanted Caller
to Understand It.
Ben was ten years old and thought
it altogether ridiculous to treat him
as a baby any longer. His father had
a lawyer friend who did not seem to
have arrived at this knowledge of
Ben’s growth and so usually addressed
him in the same way in which he had
spoken to him five years ago.
“Well, how’s my little man today?”
he asked.
Ben sat down and looked in the op
posite direction, having spoken to the
gentleman as he came in. The man
repeated his question, and then Ben
answered:
"Indeed, Mr. Smith, I have not seen
your little man and would not know
him if I saw him.”
“Ben,” his father thundered, “why
don’t you answer Mr. Smith politely
when he asks about your health?”
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Ben,
in a very dignified voice. “I am very
well, thank you.”
But Mr. Smith discovered at last
that Ben was grown up.
Electrical Volts.
A Columbus (Ind.) man called a
newspaper office there to get some
election news. He wished to know
how many states had given their elec
toral votes to Hughes and how many
had gone for Wilson. He did a little
mental arithmetic and then asked an
other question. Here it is:
“Well, how many electrical volts are
there, anyhow?”
He probably was a brother to the
Indianapolis man who called to learn
whether his favorite “had enough col
lateral notes to win.”—Indianapolis
News.
The tree does not fall at the first
stroke.
Stuck Strictly to Facts.
Some people are too literal for any
thing. A young man gave a graphic
description of a narrow escape that
he had recently had from an enraged
bull:
“I seized him by the tail!’’ he ex
claimed; “an’ there I was. I was
afraid to hold on, and I dare not let
go.’’
“Between the horns of a dilemma, as
it were,” ventured a young lady, very
much interested.
“No,” replied the young man; “I
wasn’t between the horns at all; an’
besides, he wasn’t a dilemma; he was
a Jersey.
Lack of Confidence.
“Mrs. Twobble and I will go to the
polls together,” said Mr. Twobble.
“That’s a fine example for other mar
ried people.”
“Perhaps so, but Mrs. Twobble Is
such a suspicious woman she’s afraid
I’ll take advantage of the secret bal
lot and not vote the way she’s told
me to.”
\
Bodily Housekeeping
(BY V. M. PIEUCE, M. D.)
The subject of drinking water with
meals has been misunderstood.
In recent years investigation by
means of X-rays, the observations or
scientists such as Cannon, Crutzner,
Pavlov, Fowler, Hawk, prove that an
abundance of water taken di
gestion is necessary in good bodily
housekeeping.
If your kidneys are sick, or you suf
fer with lumbago or rheumatism at
times, pain in the back or back of the
aeck take a little Anurlc before meals.
This' can be found at any good drug
store. Therefore my advice to young
oi old is, always drink plenty of pure
water. And for long life, occasionally
take tablets of Anurlc three or four
times a day.
Anurlc acts much more quickly
than llthia. Many find it dissolves
nric acid a» water does sugar.
SUFFERED SEVERE rAlWa
Maywood, Nebr.—"Last fall I was
almost broken dow-n in health. I
could hardly stand to do my house
work. I would get so tired that I
could hardly take another step, and
my night’s rest did not refresh me
very much. A friend loaned me the
•Common Sense Medical Adviser’ and
after reading part of it I decided to
try Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription
and Golden Medical Discovery. I took
six bottles of the former and five of
the latter and I felt like myself again.
I have much faith in the ‘Favorite Pre- ■
scription’ for woman’s trouble, as lt^ i
has done me a world of good.’’—MBS.
L. VANDERHEIDEN.
Favorite Prescription and Golden
Medical Discovery can be obtained at
any drug store in either liquid or tat>
lets. They have the guarantee of 4U m
years behind them, and do not contain M
alcohol nor narcotics. Ingredients are m
printed on wrapper.—Adv. iV J
■I—rlTTI
