JNUIlTM W JGS T LUUl' CITY. NEnitASKA.
u. —.. ..-.....=
CHARACTER TEST
Confidence and gcod-na
ture are easy for folk; who
are already prosperous and
successful. The true strength of
a man's character is revealed,
I however, in adversity. Tear the
foundation from beneath one
who has always enjoyed advan
tages of wealth and position, and
see if he has the backbone to
conquer evil days—to rise above
circumstances and win. In “Web
of Steel” we have the story of a
man whose foundation is de
stroyed. His fight to rebuild it
makes the novel. It is not mere
ly entertaining fiction; it is a
piece of inspiring literature. We
foci sure all of our readers will
enjoy this Cyrus Towsend Brady
serial
THE EDITOR.
-■ - .J
CHAPTER I.
Love of Woman.
If meetings only lived up to their
anticipation*. life would be a succcs
h«ii of startling climaxes. It hud been
MO' months since Meade had seen
Helen Illingworth. He hud dreamed
of meeting her every day and had pic
tured the meeting differently and more
rapturo i*ly after every letter. As a
matter of fact the whole thing was
casual and ordinary to the last degree.
It ala ays U.
I>octor Severeuce. a retired physl
o*a. who was vie.* president and
financial man. and Curtiss, the chief
engineer of the bridge company, were
bard u|«»n Ml*s Illingworth’s heels as
she stepped down from the car to the
Station platform. He saw her. as it
were, surrounded by prosaic men. The
woman he i..v.*d got the same welcome
and the same hand-hake as her father
and the other two men. It was not
until t.ig Atilxitt. who had been belated
»»X some sudden demand of work, came
■■•aping down the platform to engage
the attention of the men that the anx
ious Meade had a moment with the girl
hunseif.
Now Helen Illingworth had also been
•Ming visions, so that she had been as
dlaapi-’U.ted as he. The only real sat
isfaction that either of them could take
In the situation lay in the fact that the
other was there. It was midsummer
and the girl was dressed In some light,
filmy fabric which well became her ra
diant beauty. Meade could look at a
bit of structural steel work and tell
you all about It. Ail that he could
have told you about the dress -he wore
was that It was exquisitely appropri
ate. but it never occurred to him that
with a great price to a great artist
Helen Illingworth I tad obtained that
look of delightful simplicity.
The gown was not wasted on Meade,
•he decided, as -he caught his raptur
ous fiance. She had never looked love
lier. She was not a fragile, ethereal
woman ; quite the reverse. That was
one of ten thousand things Meade liked
about her. She could do all those ath
letic and practical things that modern
young women enn do and she could do
them well.
Me*d>- wa* Intensely practical and
efficient. He could do all of those
i things himself and many more and he
1 liked to do thorn, and that is one rea
i aon why he had Itcen attracted to her;
, pet not for that alone did he love her.
On that soft summer afternoon sin
looked a* subtly delicate ns every man
would at one time or another have the
' woman he loves up[.ear. and ns fur re
moved fr- a things strenuous ns If in
■ another world; He was wearing the
j tough clothes, flannel shirt, khaki trou
•am. heavy shoe* and leggings which
wvr« hi* habitual use at work. Con
masted with her (limy and delicately
ablored fabric his well-worn olive
ffirah habiliments stood forth hideously.
That la he thought so. and the con
• ffiast Somehow seemed typical of the
! difference between them us he consld
, ared her.
There wa* the careless Insouciance
af conscious power in the bearing of
Che engineer which differentiated him
i from most of the men with whom she
, had been thrown in »-ontact during her
IUCe. The International Bridge was the
biggest thing of the kind the Martlet
company or any other American struc
tural plant had ever undertaken. It
8 had been a constant topic of eonversa
*on wherever tier father was. She
‘ had heard all uhout It. and although,
acridly speaking, the bridge was the
work of M--ade. Sr., yet she always
p Idenlifl.-d it with Meade. Jr. There was
■a feeling in her mind that it was her
Bridge nud that, through him. she com
manded it. She was a supremely as
8 pared and entirely confident young
Inly. yet with the man by her side she
aprrtUKvd a passing sense of uueasi
such as one might conceive the
butterfly Would feel 1„ the presence of
a steam hummer.
They were as awkward and con
strained when left to themselves as if
Sue had not been all over the world
an man's Jolts fur a decade and the
other had not queened It among the
Nicest girls of the land for half us
many year*. And with thoughts burn
ing, passionate, and words embarrass
ingly torrential at hand to give them
•tterance. they only spoke cotnmon
la the bridge getting along?"
gated the girl, repeating her father’s
word* of ■ few minutes before, as
IP— two fell behind the others march
ing flown the long pi atform, while the
standing by the private car with
tha porter looked curiously after the
moving group “nd wondered If that
gray-green, long-legged young man was
lb* reason for the New York gown!
"It's doing splendidly,” was the an
| swer, and even with his heart full of
the girl by his side whom lie longed
to clasp in l^js arms but did not even
• lare touch the hem of her garment,
some little enthusiasm came into his
voice. “It is the greatest bridge that
was ever erected,” he said.
“How you love it.” said the girl.
Did Meade love the bridge? Ah,
there could he no doubt as to that.
He had studied its growth hour by
hour. As the great steel web rose, his
heart expanded with it. He took pride
in it even more when they began to
pusli the suspended span across the
' river on the outer end of the completed
cantilever, toward its fellow rising on
the other side. He lingered about it
when the rest of the workaday world
1 which was concerned with it laid with
drawn to rest. Frequently late in the
night he laid arisen and had left the
sh»*et-iron shack he occupied near the
work (for the topography of the land
and the course of the river had deter
mined the location of the bridge far
from any town), and in the moonlight
' iie had gazed bewitched by the great
weh of steel, all its mighty tracery deli
cately silvered, faintly outlined, lace
like, lofty, lifted high into the heavens.
He fell into a little reverie for a
brief moment from which she recalled
him.
“Well?" she asked.
“Yes. naturally,” he found himself
saying In a conventional tone of voice,
“it means a great deal to me. My
father—”
“Oh. your father," she began indif
ferently. although she knew and liked
the great engineer.
“It is ids crowning work and—”
“Your beginning.”
“It is not in me, or in any engineer.
! to begin where my father left off.” he
said. “But this will count a great
deal, because through father’s kindness
I had some hand—”
“I believe you did It all,” interrupt
i <al the girl.
He broke into sudden laughter, and
, his merriment had that boyish ring
i --he liked. He seemed to think that
' was a sufficient answer to that state
I inent. for he went on quickly.
“How long shall you stay?"
And in spite of himself he could not
1 keep his anxiety out of his voice.
“I think father’s going on to the city
sometime tomorrow—probably in the
; morning.”
Meade's face fell.
“So soon as that?"
“1 will try to persuade him to stay
1 longer. I’ve seen lots of bridges built
I I_H—Z—-^—i
He Lingered About It.
but never one like the International,
' and I should enjoy standing by and
watching you work."
“I don't do the work. Abbott does
; that, and the men. of course."
“Your work is the work th at makes
possible and profitable the labor of the
others,’’ she answered. “You plan, you
, lead, the rest only follow. By the
way, father told me to ask you and
Mr. Abbott to dine with us tonight in
the car.”
Mc-ade’s mood changed into positive
gloom.
“I can’t," he said dejectedly. “I
haven’t any clothes, neither Ii as Ab
bott. We ieft our dress suits behind
us when we came into the wilderness
to work.”
“Oh,” she laughed. “What difference
does that make? Come Just as you are.
It will be a relief. I like you that way.
1 get so tired of black and white,” she
went on quickly to prevent him from
taking advantage of her incautious ad
mission.
“Hang the clothes,” said the man,
radiant once more in that admission,
“since you will allow it, I will come
with what I can rake up. But you’ll
have to tell me which fork to use. I
have almost forgotten out here in the
wilderness.”
“It isn't six months since yqu were
at our house."
“HI* mouths! It's n thousand years,”
he went on, “end I’m going to take you
out on the bridge after dinner. It’s
great at any time. It’s the most mag
nificent sight on earth even now, but
in the moonlight—there It Is now,” he
pointed as the little group walked past
the station which had hid the view
and the great structure suddenly was
revealed to them.
The four men ahead had stopped
and stood silent. There was something
awe-inspiring and tremendous about
the great, black, outreaching, far
extending arms of steel. The first sight
of It always gave the beholder a little
shock. It was so huge, so massive, so
grandly majestic, and withal so airy,
seen agnlnst the Impressive background
in
i of deep gorge and palisaded wall and 1
' far-off mountains. So ether-borne was
it in its perfect proportion that even
dull and stupid people—and none of
these were that—felt its overpowering
presence. Meade and the girl stopped
too. After one glance at the bridge,
she looked at him. And that was typ
ical. For the first time he was not at
the moment aware of, or immediately
responsive to, her glance. And that,
too, was typical. She noted this with
a pang of jealousy.
“You love the bridge,” she said
softly. I
He straightened up and threw his :
head back and looked at her.
“I thought so," he said simply—“un
1 til today, but now"—he stopped again. }
“But now?” she asked.
“I huve just learned what love really
is and the lesson has not been taught J
| 'oe by a bridge,” he answered directly. I
Yet Bertram Meade, the younger, did ,
truly love the bridge which he hud j
! seen grow from the placing of the first !
shoe—the great steel base on top of j
i the pier which carries the whole struc- j
tu re—to the completion of the soaring
cantilever reaching out to meet its
companion on the other side—the great
International, which was to be the tie
that bound, with web of steel, two
j great countries which lay breast to
! breast; already in touch save for the
mighty river that flowed between them.
By no means would Meade, the
younger, have been charged with the
great responsibilities of the bridge had |
it not been for his exhaustive prepara- ;
tion and wide experience. To a thor
ough technical training at Harvard, in
the Lawrence Scientific school, had
been added a substantial record of
; achievement. A fine bridge which he
j had erected in faraway Burma, trium
phantly achieving the design despite
all sorts of difficulties, had attracted
the attention of old Colonel Uliug
j worth, the president of the Martlet
; Bridge company.
He had kept the young man under
his eye for a lonfc time. When he cotn
! missioned his father, Bertram Meade,
Sr., to prepare the plans for the great
j International, the most-sought-for and
famous of bridges, he had noted with
satisfaction that the older man, who j
stood first among bridge engineers on |
the continent, had associated with him
self his son. Meade, Jr., had recently
returned from South America, where
he had again shown his mettle. The
' two worked together in the preparation
! of the designs for what was to be the
crown and triumph of the older man’s
life, the most stupendous of all the
cantilever bridges in the world.
The great engineer had a high idea
of his only son's ability. He was will- j
lug to proclaim it, to maintain it, and
defend it against all comers except ;
himself. When the two wills clashed,
he recognized but one way. his own.
The relations between the two were
lovely but not ideal. There was lead
ership not partnership, direction rather
than co-operation. The knowledge and
experience of the boy—for so he loved I
to call him—where of course nothing ]
compared to those of his father. When, j
in discussing moot points, the younger !
man had been unconvinced by the cal
culations of the elder, he had been
laughed to scorn in a good-natured
way. His carefully set forth objec
tions, even in serious matters, had been :
overborne generally, and by trium- ;
pliant calculations of his own the fa- 1
tlier had re-enforced himself in his con- '
elusions; and the more strongly be- '
cause of the opposition.
Young Meade's position was rather
anomalous. He had no direct super- 1
vision of the construction. He was 1
there as resident engineer representing [ '
his father. He had welcomed the posi- j
tion because it guve him sin opportu
nity to see from the very beginning the
erection of what was to he the great
est cantilever bridge the feet of the 1
world had ever trod upon, the wheels
of the world had ever rolled across. 1
He had followed with the utmost
care, constantly reporting the prog- '
ress to his father, every step taken '
under the superintendence of Abbott, '
a man of great practical ability as an 1
erector, but of much less capacity as 1
a scientific designer or office engineer. ’
Meade had watched its daily growth 1
with the closest attention. Like every
other man in similar case, the work 1
hud got into his blood. It had become ■
a part of his life. He loved the bridge;
yet more he loved Helen Illingworth. 1
CHAPTER II.
The Witness for the Defense.
One of the pleasant evidences of the
possession of riches is in the luxury 1
of a private car. Although Colonel 1
Illingworth was personally a iuan of
simple tastes as became an old cam
paigner, there was no appointment
that wit could devise or that money
could buy which was lacking to make
his private ear either more comfortable
or more luxurious in its uapery, glass,
china and silver, the dining table need
ed not to apologize to any other any
where. The colonel was most punc
tilious in dressing his part and Meade
and Abbott were both scrubbed to
within an inch of their lives, but,
climbing about the bridge, their hands
were scratched, roughened, stained and
torn. Aside from that, Meade was cer
tainly most presentable, and old Ab
bott, in spite of his indifference to
such matters, looked the able and pow
erful man he was.
The conversation at dinner was at
first light and frivolous.
“I’m lost,” began Abbott, “overpow
ered with all this silver and glass and
china.”
“Yes,” laughed Meade, “we should
have brought along our granite ware
and tincups, then we would be free
from the dreadful fear that we are go
..i.. „ cmmariAr last week and I for
ing to drop something or break some
thing.”
"You can break anything you like,”
said the colonel with heavy pleasan
try, “so long as the bridge stands.”
“And that is going to be forever, isn’t
it. Mr. Meade?” asked Helen quickly.
“I don’t think anything built by man
will survive quite that long,” he an
swered ns much to her father and the
others as to her. “but tins gives every
promise of lasting its time.”
“You know,” observed Curtiss, “there
was some question in my mind about
It Had Been a Part of His Life.
these hig compression members. When
I first studied your father's drawings,
I wondered if he had made the lacing
-trong enough to hold the webs.”
“That matter was very thoroughly
gone into,” said Meade quickly. “It
was the very point which I myself had
questioned, but father is absolutely
confident that we provided latticing
enough to take up all the stresses. I
looked into that matter myself,” he
went on with much emphasis.
“I guess it’s all right," said Curtiss
ightly. “I examined the webs and lac
ings carefully this afternoon. They
*eem to be as right as possible."
“Those trusses," said Abbott emphat
ically. “will stand forever. You need
lot worry about that”
“Are you going to finish this job on
time?" asked Severence, the vice presi
lent. “You know the financial end of
t is mine, and much depends 11(1011 the
iate of completion.”
"That depends upon you people at
he shop, doctor. If you get the stuff
lore to me I’ll get it in place in short
trder,” answered Abbott.
"We aren't worrying about anything
with you and Meade on the job, Ab
lott.” said the colonel genially.
“Yes, you are, father." said the girl.
‘Ever since the International has been
darted you have scarcely been able to
five a thought even tit me. I'm tired
tf it. I hope the old thing will soon
te finished, so that we can all go back
o normal life again.”
“I hope so, too,” assented the colonel,
‘and I guess you are right. The fact
s the bridge Is an obsession with us
ill. It is the biggest job the Martlet
ms ever handled. Indeed, it Is the
tiggest thing in the world. It's the
ongest cantilever, the gheatest span,
he heaviest trusses, the—”
“I’ve heard all about it,” interrupted
he girl, waving him into silence, “ever
;ince you began it. Sometimes I think
t’s beginning to obsess me. too.”
“You don’t look like It,” whispered
lleade, under, cover of the general
augh that greeted her remark.
“What do I look like?” she whis
>ered back quickly, in return.
Rut Meade had no opportunity to
ell her.
ii is mu exactly u sunjoci ior uin
ler conversation,” said the colonel with
Hidden gravity, “but all of us here,
iven you, my dear, must realize how
nuch that bridge means to us. I won’t
fo so far as to say that its failure
vould ruin us. but it would be hard for
is to survive.”
“Have you ever known anything that
ny father designed to fail?” asked
deade somewhat hotly.
“No, and that is why we took his
dans in spite of—”
“In spite of what, sir?”
“In spite of Curtiss here and some
ithers.”
"Mr. Curtiss,” said Meade, turning
o the chief engineer, “if it will add
inything to your peace of mind, I will
issume my full sh are of responsibility
'or tlie matter. You know the books
>y Schmidt-Chemnitz, the great Ger
nan bridge engineer?"
Curtiss nodded.
“At first I—that is, we—thought that
here might possibly be weakness in
hose compression members, but 1
•hecked them with the methods lie ad
vocates and then submitted the figures
o my father, aud then he went through
he whole calculation and applied co
efficients he felt to be safe.”
“I’m willing to take your father’s
judgment in the matter rather than
Sehmidt-Chemnitz’, or anybody’s,” said
Jurtiss, “so successful has been his ea
•eer.”
“Now that I have seen the members
n place I have no doubt that they will
stand," said the colonel.
“Sure they will,” added Abbott with
supreme and contagious confidence, an
issurance which helped even Meade to
jelleve.
“Of course we all know," said Doc
tor Severence, who had been long
enough in touch with engineering to
leatrt much about It, “that there is al
ways more or less of experimenting in
the design of a new thing like this.”
mllU, uiesuu. ~ l..~~.
“Yes,” said the colonel, “but we
j don't want our experiment to fail in
I this instance.”
I “They won’t,” said the young man
j boldly.
He had long since persuaded himself
j that he had been all wrong and his
father all right, so that he entered
j upon his defense and the defense of
the bridge with enthusiasm. He was
ready to break a lance with anybody
on its behalf.”
“Well,” began the colonel, “we have
every confidence in your father and in
j vou. I don’t mind telling you, Meade,
it need not go any further, that when
this bridge is completed we shall be
prepared to make you personally a
very advantageous offer for future re
lations with the Martlet company if
you care to accept it. On the strength
of your probable acceptance we are al
ready planning to venture into certain
| foreign fields which we have hitherto
not felt it to our interest to enter.”
“That is most kind of you. Colonel
Illingworth,” said the young man grate
fully, “and It appeals to me very
strongly. I have been associated with
father latterly. He wants to retire
i with the completion of this bridge, and
before I open any office of my own I
should like the advantage of further
I experience. Such a connection as you
propose seems to me to be ideal, from
j my point of view. Xo man could have
any better backing than the Martlet
| Hridge company.”
Well, we shall look to you to be
worthy of It," said the colonel kindly.
His glance vaguely comprehended
his daughter as he spoke. Colonel
Illingworth was a very rich man. The
j Martlet Bridge company was nearest
| his heart, but he had many other in
i terests. His only daughter would event
ually be the mistress of a great for
tune. Meade was not poor. Of course,
his means were limited compared to
Colonel Illingworth's grent fortune, but
what he had earned, saved, and invest
; ed was sufficient—yes, even for two.
And he would inherit much more. Old
: Meade had not been the greatest engi
neer of his generation for nothing. In
dependent and self-respecting, young
Meade could not be considered a for
tune hunter by anybody. He was the
kind of man to whom a decent father
likes to intrust his daughter. Old
Colonel Illingworth found himself gaz
ing wouderingly at the two.
After dinner the men sat out on the
observation platform with their cigars
J and coffee. For those that liked it
there was something in tall glasses in
| which ice tinkled when the glasses
I were agitated, but Meade declined all
] three.
“With your permission, sir," ho said.
I “I am going to take Miss Illingworth
out on the bridge. The moon is rising
and—”
“I have heard so much about it,”
said the girl, standing by the door.
“I want to see it when the workmen
are all off and it is all quiet, in the
moonlight.”
“Very well. You had better change
your dress, Helen, !>efore you go," said
the colonel, turning to Abbott and en
gaging him in conversation on techni
cal matters.
“I’ll wait for you at the front door
of the car,” said the engineer, his heart
heating like a pneumatic riveter and
sounding almost as loud in his ears.
“I won't be long.” she whispered as
she left him.
Helen did not want to waste time
any more than Meade did. So, instead
of taking her father’s advice, all she
did was to cover her beautiful shoul
ders with a light wrap and hasten to
the car door in the shortest possible
time. Every moment they were apart,
since the sum-total in which they could
be together was so small, was a mo
ment lost.
“Now,” she said, coming out of the
door of the car and descending the
steps toward him, eagerly expectant.
“I want a prize for my swiftness.”
“A prize!” returned the man. “why,
you’ve been gone years, and you
haven’t even changed your gown. You
They Saw Her Round, Red, Full Face.
can't go out on a bridge in that gown
and those slippers, tramping over dirty
tracks, piles of steel, rough wooden
planks, paint and—”
“Can’t I?” she said; “you just see."
“I hate to see you spoil your dress,”
he said uncertainly as she stopped.
Really what gown on earth was
worth half an hour of her society? At
least that is the way he felt about It.
and evidently she felt the same way
* “It is settled, then,” she said, slip^
ping her arm through his as they
walked down the long wooden plat
form near the siding. At the end of
the platform, as they turned about the
temporary station and storehouse, be
fore them rose the bridge. The moon
was rising over the high hills that
sprang up from the steep clifflike bank
of the other side of the vast river.
They saw her round, red, full face
through an interlacing tracery of steel
The lower part of the bridge was still
in deep shadow. Indeed, the moon had
just cleared the hills of the opposite
bunk of the grent gorge cut by the
broad river flowing swiftly In its dark
ness fur below. At the farther end of
the suspended arm extending far over
the water the top of the traveler glis
tened. The cantilever on the opposite
shore, incomplete and sunk under a
high rise of sand, was still in shadow
and not yet discernible.
Unwittingly the woman drew a little
near the man. He became more con
scious than before of the light touch
of her hand upon his arm. It was very
still where they stood. The shacks
of the workmen had been erected be
low the bridge about a quarter of a
mile to the right along the banks of
the little affluent of the main stream.
They could hear faint but indistin
guishable noises that yet indicated hu
manity coming from that direction.
The fires in the machine house and in
the engines were banked. Lazy curls
of smoke rose to be blown away in the
limitless areas of the upper air. In the
darkness all the unsightly evidences of
construction work were hidden.
“Oh,” said the woman, drawing a
long breath. “I don’t wonder that you
love It. Isn’t it beautiful, flung up in
the air that way? One would think it
wasn’t steel but silver and gold and—”
“Time was,” said the man, “when I
loved a thing like that above every
thing except my father, but now—”
Young Meade comes out of
his dream with a terrific bump
—the real story begins with the
next installment. Tell your
friends to read “Web of Steel,”
the best serial of the year.
u=. —.. =u
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
—
RACCOONS WASH THEIR FOOD
Curious Habits of a Typically Known
American Animal Are a Most
Interesting Study.
Few American wild animals are
more widely known or excite more
popular interest than the raccoon,
which occupies most of the wooded
parts of North America from the
southern border of Canada to Panama,
with the exception of the higher moun
tain ranges.
Their diet is extraordinarily varied
and includes fresh-water clams, craw
fish, frogs, turtles, birds and theii
eggs, poultry, nuts, fruits and greer
corn. When near water they have a
curious and unique habit of washing
their food before eating it. Their fond
ness for green corn leads them into
frequent danger, for when bottom-land j
corn tempts them away from their us
ual haunts raccoon hunting with dogs
at night becomes an especially favored 1
sport. Raccoons are extraordinarily
intelligent animals and make interest
ing and amusing pets.
Raccoons began to figure in out
frontier literature at an early date.
“Coonskin” caps, with the ringed tails
hanging like plumes, made the favorite
headgear of many pioneer hunters,
and “coonskins” were a recognized
article of barter at country stores
Now that the increasing occupation of
the country is crowding out more and j
more of our wild life, it is a pleasure j
to note the persistence with which I
these characteristic and interesting
animals continue to hold their own in
so much of their original range.
Lebas’ Confidence.
Many years ago the granite obelisk j
that stood sentinel before the palace |
of Rameses III, at Luxor, for more !
than thirty centuries, was taken tc j
Paris. Its erection in the Place de la j
Concorde was marked by a fine ex !
ample of civic courage. It had been
brought from Egypt by the engineet
Lebas in a river boat specially con
structed at Toulon, to navigate the
Nile and the Seine. This boat was
towed through the sea by a warship.
When the cables used in raising the
obelisk were strained almost to break
ing Lebas placed himself under the
enormous stone as it began to move,
it' a single cable had broken all would
have been over with the engineer. Ex- !
plaining his hardihood Lebas said It !
was to show the crowd of onlookers
that he was sure of his calculations.
A single error and he would huve been
crushed, and he preferred a tragic end
to dishonor. “This,” said Le Cri de
Paris, “was in 1836, before our day of
interviews and Lebas occupied only a
few lines in the Constitutionel, no
more, no less, than the periodical ad
ventures of the sea serpent.”
The Cotswolds.
The Cotswolds are another example 1
of the variety of natural scenery that
England succeeds in packing away
within her narrow seabarred boun- I
daries. Here, within three hours of
the largest city in the world, you cau
walk in complete loneliness, over a
grassy road that follows the route laid
out by Roman engineers, with a turn*
bled skyline of real mountains on your
right, and a sweep of empty fields
falling away to the left. You can take
tea In an old Roman villa, where the
tiled courtyard is still smooth and
tight; you can sleep in an inn that has
apparently not changed its habits or
its bill of fare since the days of Rich
ard the Lion Hearted.
I _ ■
I Nature
Require
Assistance
IN CORRECTING SUCH ILLS
POOR APPETITE
DYSPEPSIA
| INDIGESTION
BILIOUSNESS
SPRING ILLS
OR MALARIA
A splendid first c^d
HOSTETTER
1 STOMACH BITTE
I
No Hope.
Pansey—Isn't it tragi' the: .Ii
down on his job?
Lily—Well, he still can i \
Pansey—No, he can't; h<
steeplejack.—Jester.
GREAT DEMAND
FOR CANADIAN LAN!
Americans Are Buyers and _
coming Settlers—Anxious to
Get Cheap and Produc
tive Land.
Reports are to nnna mat tri
be a large Influx of settlor- fr
United States Into the Canadian V
during the coming Spring. For a •.
there has been a falling off. on a
of the fear of con<- :
course was not possible, oi.-l v !
Canadian Government gave every
surance would not be put inr • • .
tion. In any case It would not it'
the American settler, ami more t
that the man who was working - n
farm, helping to produce the gr
that goes to feed those who are ar tr,
would not be affected.
The excellent yields of (he We- • m
Canada crops, and the high pri CP*i S**- I
cured is having its influenc..
looking for homes. The autle 1
reports that have been sent <
time to time that this farmer an i T‘ •
farmer had paid for their entir- far .
holdings out of one crop ha* r-- 1
the ears of the man looking for n f -
When he hears that G. H. F
Nanton, Alherta. had 079 ! •
wheat from 12 acres or an av _ f
56% bushels to the acre, la
interested. .'When he learns • • s
ney E. Phillips of Beddef->r>! '
threshed ten hundred and •
bushels of wheat, the aver - z
52% bushels per acre, his in’ - -
further aroused. Tims. Long I
bridge had 120 bushels of on-; - > ri.e
acre from a field of 2r> n- r- - U
Quinn of Milk River had 6.094 bu- s
of wheat from 100 acres, an average
of 60 bushels per acre, an-i R
Tackaberry of Xobleford n
vit that he had an average of --
six bushels of wheat per acr
field of 10.63 acres. Tims. Boulton < ' ' e
same place makes affidavit tli ■
fifty acres he had a yield of fifty ’V- ->
bushels of wheat per acre. X .1.
Noble’s affidavit of getting 54 t> : <
per acre from 1.000 acres stands not
most strongly ns evidence of «t> ■ r* *
wheat grower can do. This nffidat-r u
strengthened by a paragraph >■ :-g
that he had 122 bushels and 30 11 -s. j . r
acre from 394.69 acres. Mrs. N •. v
Coe makes affidavit that on her t r::>
at Xobleford she threshed six rh >
sand one hundred and ten bust is . f
wheat from one hundred ami tr - a
acres, or fifty-three bushels and t •
lbs. per acre, and from a flax fl. 1
(stubble field) she got 20 bushels ani
38 pounds per acre.
It cannot he said that these were
freak yields because so many ha-1 - :
great success. When these repot •- -
read, the man looking for a farm be
comes convinced.
These.are only a few of the rea<--r. -
that will cause a large Influx of a ;er
lcan farmers into the Canadian W,->t
during the coming Spring.
The farmers now resident In Mani
toba, Saskatchewan and Alberta are
purchasing additional lands. Prices
are low and Free homestead land - at
be had in many districts and the home*
steader Is welcome.—Advertisement;
Lucky Choice.
“I’ll tell you, old man, Augy i* *
bright girl. She’s brains enough
two.”
“Then she’s the very giri for you. • .
boy.”
BOSCHEE’S GERMAN SYRUP
Why take ordinary cough ren t
when Boschee’s German Syrup has
been used for fifty-one years In all
towns in the United States. Canada.
Australia, and other countries, fur
coughs, bronchitis, colds settled in tins
throat, especially lung trouble. It
gives the patient a good night's r.
free from coughing, with eusy expec
toration in the morning, giving nature
a chance to soothe the inflamed par’s
throw off the disease, helping the pa
tient to regain his health, assisted by
pure air and sunshine when possible.
Trial size 25c, and 75c family size.
Sold, in all towns in the United States.
Canada- Australia, and other coun
tries.—Adv.
Contraries.
That young fellow is a corning
man.”
“Yes, he has lots of go."
Affnm ftkre"'••»»*»»»! wintiiii11tin11miumum111v
Murine Is for Tired Eyes, i
= mOVieS Red Eye. —Sore EyA - 5
= Grumlsted Bye lids. Hwu- =
s I*®1*®8®©® — Restores Marine Is * Favorite 5
s 2,, atment for Byes that feel dry and smart -
: OlveyonrByes as much of yonr levin* care r
Z M yonr Teeth and with the same regularity -
5 - %*E fWTHe*. tou CURST 181 REN ETES: I
= Sold at Drag and Optical Stores or by Mall *
I kdk Hurl*. Ire Remedy Co, Cklcago. for Frre Rret 3
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