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I
RED CLOUD CHIEF
A. C. HOSMEB, Proprietor.
1?KI CLOUD.
NEBRASKA.
AFTERWARD.
"When slow the dawn serene of Heaven Is
break. ng
On weary carthworn hearts with glad sur
prise. And all the brightness of unsaddened waking
Is shining forth In happy, hopeful eyes;
When to the soul Heaven's new and rapturous
living
Through hours of pcaco has ever fairer
grown,
One joy scorns great beyond tbo heart's be
lieving That there we know even as vre arc known.
This Is the welcome boon our Lord bestowcth
On souls that e'en tt rough darkness followed
Him.
And to His faithful ones He freely showcth
His wondrous meaning where their sight was
dim.
What here we question with still resignation.
Loving His will, but understanding not.
There shall wc learn with sweetest consolation,
l. Seeing His guidance in each earthly lot.
Why one has gone to be with Him forever.
Whom love and memory ever yearning
failure oft has followed long endeavor.
And active, useful hands grow frail and
weak
Whv living sorrows on the spirit lying
Drain life's fresh strength as day slow fol
lows day
Why through the world the power of sin undy
ing Doth with its load the guilty spirit weigh
As here we see but darkly, only feeling
That o'er misrule and woe our Master reigns.
And that in meacy, not in wrath. His dealing
Counteth the soul above all earthly gains;
Then shall we know in full and glad complete
ness All the long way our stumbling feet have
trod.
And in that revelation's wondrous sweetness
Praise and adore the wisdom of our God.
Elizabeth French, in Springfield (Mats.) Re
publican. TREAN;
on
THE MORMON'S DAUGHTER.
By ALVA MILTON HERB.
Written While Living in Utah.
Copyrighted, 1SS7, by the A. .V. Kellogg Xtirs
paper Co. All lliqhtt Iieterteii.
CHAPTER in. Continued.
All that day, like a Greek slave, Trean
went about her work in silence. She
seemed to move heavily, and her strong
figure, as if it were freighted with some in
visible burden, seemed less erect than
usual. The father seemed more aged, too.
Kis large, hulking frame seemed sagged a
little mure, and sunken in upon itself like
some ancient habitation that falls slowly
into ruin.
Elchard noticed this, though they did not
come often into the room where he lay. In
the afternoon the old man came in and sat
down as if to talk, but fell to gazing out the
door in moody silence. The injured man let
his eyes rest listlessly upon him awhile,
then began trying to think back along the
life-path of this being before him; of the
coarse and uneducated region he had been
reared in; of its lank-bodied, primitive peo
ple, their superstitions, and the crude in
fluences that had made him capable of re
ceiving this astounding system, this dis
torted imitation of the carlv Hebraic bar
barism masked under the forms of religion.
Then of the system itself, its ridiculous in
ceptiou, the fraud of it; and after that the
deception, knavery, theft, murder, lechery,
and shame practiced by and upon its igno
rant followers. Then of the deadly and
mysterious hold such dark beliefs seem to
have upon such natures, clouding the whole
mentality, making the very scum of thought
seem sweet, unnatural deeds seem natural,
and a thick and muddy heart seem filled
with the light of truth. Could else than a
sort of insanity have brought the people of
these lovely valleys out from all dark cor
ners of the civilized world, to a journey of
such length and cruelty as words can make
no pictures of, here to dwell in all discom
fort and such servility to those who had de
ceived them as would all but put a slave to
shame! O, Religion! he thought, what
wrongs have been committed in thy sacred
name!
Suddenly the old man looked up, almost
as if the matter revolving in Elchard's
mind by some inscrutable process had
touched and quickened the slowly revolving
questions in his own. But perhaps it was
only some vague mistrust of the sanity of
his course, some throb of pity for himself
and Trean, or afilmingdoubtof'hisdoctrincs
jarred into life by the thought of losing her
to such a bitter fate. "It's a hard way, a
hard, miserable way wo hev, araost on us,
of a gittin' to Heaven," he said, with a
weary sigh and shake of the head. "I
never tole ye of our acrossin' of the plains
adraggin' hand-carts after us, with our icr
visions an' the sick an' dyin' in 'cm, I sup
pose J"
Elchard shook his head and let his eyes
rest upon him inquiringly.
"Well," he went on, -one may cs well be
gin at the beginnin' es in the middle of a
story an' spile it. Anyhow when I look back
at that trip pine blank, rememberin' it all
cs if it was yisterday, I know I kent tell it,
noways cs it was, ner no other man ahvin'
ken cither, ner mebby dead, for it's beyont
the powers o' language,
"When the brethren was driv out of Xau
voo, some says fcr thievin' and sctt'n' up
theirselves agin the law an' the like
though cs fcr believin scch I leave that to
other folks they moved away, with what
pain and sufferin' mortal tongue kent never
tell, more'n a thousand miles over a burn
in', houseless waste, an' through mount
ings,.an' Injuns, an' snakes, an' rivers, an'
starvation, to this region of God's prcparin'
fcr "em. But President Young was bound
to git "em toaplaco of safety, an' he did."
The thought was passing through Kl
chard's mind, with some bitterness, how
this false Moses had crossed the desert in a
carriage, had gotten immense wealth out
of his misgui Jed dupes aftenvaid. played
the King, committed crimes to keep his
power, and had a harem full of women, but
ha said nothing.) "Then the servants of
God was teat out prcachin' through all the
Wvrid, an' band after band follerod through
the howhn' wastes, an' the same mountings,
an' the same sufferin', to these valleys of
Zion. Thousands walk' d every st.jp of the
way, irom the Mississippi rver, over a
thousand miles-, an' some what had no mon
ey an' had worked thfcir way over in vessels
from Europe, walked cJean-from Now York
to Salt Lake, nigh thr&e thousaud miles;
some dyin' pn tbeway, an' some dyin' soon
cs thcy-got here, an' some Jivin' to work fer
the Lord in His vineyard.
"Weil, they'd always try to come in bands,
from the Missouri river anyway, eaiso the
Injuns was bad. Sometimes es many
es
five hundred come in a band at once. So,
es it tuck a good many yokes of steers to
haul the pcrvisions an' beddin' fer so many,
President Young had a revelation from tho
Lord that each one was to be fixed out with
a hand-cart and haul most of his pcrvisions
an' beddin' through with him cs he come.
Some was fer doubtin' the wisdom of thi3,
I hev heard, but tho Lord's prophet sent
word through bis servants that nothin' could
harm a hair of our heads if wo trusted in
the Lord, an' had the kind of faith wo should
hev. Well, I s'pose what he said was true
csgospiel, an' the fault was man's some
way, an' not God's rcvalation, but the jour
ney was hard, hard cs death, an' vas death
to lots of us, an' I'm bodily shore nothin'
never could be harder!" And he shook his
gray head and stared mistily a moment at
the floor. "Well," he went on. "about that
time one of the brethren come a preachiu'
down through Tcunessee, an' me an' wife
an' some more was turned from our follies,
an' sot out fcr Zion. My wife Catherine
didn't want to go, but the whole batch of us
was nigh wild to git out of the wilderness
of sin about us and gcther to the Zion of
the Lord here into the West, whar wc was
tole, I s'pose es a figgcr of speech, all was
peace an' cs if it was a flowin' with milk an'
honey. "
"We had had those children then, a little
darter an' son that we'd buried, an' ono
livin' girl-child who's a wife of Elder
Smoot's in Salt Lake now. It was pine
blank hard a gcttin' away from them two
little graves of our'n, ye may believe. We
knowedthut es long as time lasted we'd
never sec 'cm no more, an' I thought Cath
erine's heart d break that mornin' wc left.
I an' mebby it did! mebby it did! fcr she
went upon the hill back of the house whar
them little graves was under a tree, an'
I seed her stan' awhile lookin' down
through the valley whar most of our kin
folks an' friends lived, then I seed 'cr turn
round an' fall acrost them little graves of
our'n an lay there cs if the life had gone
clean out of 'cr. She laid so long there I
was afeerd fer 'cr, an' went up the hill to
bring er back, fcr the wagon was awaitin'
to take us to the river landin' fer the boat.
When I got there she was clayin' atwixt
tho graves with a arm round each little
mound, an' a cryiu' an' moanin' turriblc.
When I got her up she fell down agin, an'
kissed each little grave, an' put a pinch of
moss from each one into her bosom, an'
come astumblin' down the hill, fer she
seemed blind, an' got into the wagon an'
wedrivaway. It was hard, but. I guess I
didn't feel it cs much cs her, fcr I was res
crlute an' determined an' filled with the
sperrit of gethcriu to Zion.
"Well, it was a long and tejus journey,
from Tennessee to whar wc jined the im
migrant band of brethren in Iowa, but it
was cs nothin' to the travclin' after that.
I fairly shiver w'en I think of it. The tui ri
ble. tumble tiredness, the heat, an' san an'
thirst, an' draggin' feet, tho never, never
endin' miles an' miles of treeless, trackless
wilderness, the glare of the sun, 'cu after
while the cold, an' mountings, an' freezin'
an' death, an' hoveriu' savages, it all comes
back afore me now an' strikes me nigh
dumb," and the old man leaned forward up
on his knees and shook his head, staring at
the floor as if he saw some fearful picture
there.
"We built the hand-carts in Iowa at a
camp whar we met,'' he began again, "an'
that was whar we lost; it tuck to the mid
dle of summer afore we was ready to start.
We had ben tole by the elders down in
Tennessee, an' them acomin' from other
countries an' places had ben tole
the same, wc found, that tho carts
an' tents an' truck would all be
a-ready for us at the mectin' place
in Iowa w'en we got there; but nothin' had
been done. Most ov us had sent money en
ahead, cr gin it to tho elders to be sent,
an' some gin nigh to all they had. but it had
gone into President Young's fund at Salt
Lake by mistake, an' so we had to git
things ready the bes' way we could. Ef we
could "a started right away we might hcv
'I TOOUGUT
CATHERINE'S
HEART WOULD
nitEAK."
got through afore winter, mebby: some com
panies did; dragged carts clean through, fer
it was a test o' faith, an' didn't losevcry
many, but we couldn't go no quicker cn wc
did. Some 'at knowed the danger fit agin
it, but we had meetin's every night, an' our
zeal was high. The Lord would take keer
of us, we felt, and wc was happy. At last
we started, started fer Zion more'n a thou
sand mile away into the West, a-pullin' our
hand-earts after us. It was a wild trip, but
the Lord was with us a-leadin' us on to His
Kingdom."
CHAPTKR IV.
TIIK JOURNEY.
"There was six hundred on us, men wim
men, au' children," continued the gray old
Mormon, 'an' we sot out in a fever of joy
an" zeal. But some seemed to feel what
was acomin' an' their feet dragged from the
start. My Catharine was heavy ar.d droopy
a good share of the time; seemed like s.lie
was never herself after we left them two
little graves in Tennessee, but arno-st on us
wasbhoutin' an' singin' an' apraism' the
Lord es we went on'ard fer tho fust two .cr
three days, l'very night after the tents
was planted wehild mectin' an' there was
prcachin' an' cxhortin'. Some of the elders
said no matter if winter did come the Lord
would save us, no matter if we got sick
the Lord would heal us, fer President
Young, the Lord's mouth-piei-e, had said so.
'Sometimes I felt a little jub'ous, I ken't
hep savin' pine- blank, fer it as turriblc
labor draggin' a loaded hand-cart day after
day, with yo'r Tcet an' hands blistered an"
the sun strcamin' down on ye. Then there
was a thousand mile to walk, six hundred
of it a desert an four hundred barren.injun
hanted mountings. It was a awful under
takin'! Then the carts was nore thimrs
made of unseasoned timber with bcarin's
all of wood, an' thoy broke down an' wore
out, but still the host of the Lord went
alaborm on'ard into the desert.
"There was twenty of the carts to ovcry
hundred folks, the flour an' beddin' an'
cookm' fixius fer five folks in everv cart,
an' five tents fer every hundred hauled ia
a wagon with three yoke of steers to it.
uveriiair or every hundred was wimmin
an children, an' ole folks an' puny ones, so
ye see what, the strong oner, had afore em !
But none of us wasn't stout long. O. what
days them wrvs! What tired, long, feverish,
dusty, awlul daj-s! Mile after. mile we
i
dragged on'ard, hour after hour, day after
day, an' never seemed one step furder to
'ards the ond. Two of tho apostles an'
some elders was with us till wc got across
tho river at Council Bluffs, then the apos
tles an' most of the elders left us. They
had three er four cerriges amongst 'cm.
an' two spring wagons with horses to haul
their provisions, an' cs a squad of cavalry
was goin' to Fort Laramie, they went along.
an' was in Salt Lake long afore the snow
flew.
"But what had we afore us but work an'
sufferin' an' the plains stretchin' furevcr
and furevcr away in front of us! Wo
couldn't make fur in a day, not more'n ten
cr fifteen mile. Our shoes wore through
onto our feet, an' our feet wore into holes,
an' our hands was blistered an' cracked an'
raw from a puliiu' on the carts. Then our
provisions begun to run low, fer we didn't
Lev enough w'en wc started, an' we tuk to
sufTcrin' from hunger an' most of the time
from thirst. Most on us prayed an' seemed
to keep up faith, but all on us begun to git
hollcr-cyed and silent. Wo seed that life
an' death was afore us with life the furd
cst away, an' wc strained forreds day after
day with our teeth set a prayin' under our
breath an' sufferin'.
"All through August the sun come up
out of the plain to the east C3 red es blood
an' went blazin' on over our heads cs wc
toiled on'ard through the sand, an' red cs
blood sunk into the plain in the west, an' it
seemed like we'd scurcely moved. Then
we'd be too wore out to pitch the tents, an'
would jest drap down outer blankets er the
bare ground, an' lay there tell that burain'
ball of blood come blazin' onto us agin
from the east, an' we'd cat a little somethin'
an' stagger on. It was tumble ! Sometimes
one er two of the puny ones 'd be dead when
mornin' come, an' we'd bury "cm in the
sand an' leave 'cm. It seemed like it was
furevcr a drouth in that desert; dry, dry,
dead-dry, an' always the waves of heat
that seemed a million wrinkles of hot melt
in' glass, would hover an' hover, an' quiver
an' burn an' beat, tell one's eyeballs was
red, an some slavered at the mouth an'
mumbled of water an' shade an' rest, an'
wandered in their minds. An' sometimes,
away up in the stagnant air we'd see the
bodies of insects afloatin' like flakes of
ashes, au' they'd flicker an' glimmer an'
drap down onto us nothin' but dead shells
like bits of tinsel. An' the stream we was
tryin' to foller got to be nothin' more'n a
string of green pools sprinkled with scales
an' dry lish-eyes, an' we'd creep down to it
an' sip at it with cracked lips, an' stagger
on agin.
"But at last wc d rawed out of that part of
the desert, leavin' our pore dead behind,
but it was the last of September afore the
mountings hove in sight, an' the suu sunk
down for a week amongst the snow-covered
peaks: I remember, afore wc reached 'cm
wc was so sick an' lame an' wore out. I
iinuu mat an mem nays my ncau scemeu
goin' round an' round cs I pulled, an' the
biood kep abuzzin' in mv cars, an' some
times I'd get blind an' couldn't see nary
thing afore me, but a sorter clear sense
kep alive in my head, too, fcr death was
shorely afore us if we gin up. A good many
did gin up, especial the ole an' puny ones,
an' we'd seldom leave a camp-ground in the
mornin" without two er three had to Imj
buried. It was tumble! Wc didn't look
much into each other's faces at them bury
in's, fer wc knowed what was afore us au'
couldn't bear it.
" Well, at last we drawed into Laramie.
O, how we'd looked forred to this! fcr
there the Apostles had promi-ed that we'd
find a supply of isrvisions awaitin' fcr us.
but nothin' was there! Theu things begun
to look black. We had a mectin' an" lig?ered
u.i uui LUdiH.cs. uu u iuuuu '""I - - - " - -
rate we'd ben a-travelin' an' at the amount
of rations we'd got each day, which w.is a
pound of Hour each, we'd not hev a mouth-,
B, 4i mm lmB-SK 17 j-ih,.I Kn ait lti
ful left w'en we was yit three hundred
miles of the end of our journey. So we
cut down the ration to nine ounces of Hour
each fer gnr.vcd folks an' four to seven
ounces fer the young ones. Then we pulled
ahead with what little strcnth we had left,
makin' every mile we could, fcr it was life
an' death with us. W'en we started there
was four cr five milch cows to everv hun
dred jHjrsons, but now they was strung all
iiiroiign uie rascn. ucaii, an- xm asm w l pressed conditions of the nervous svstcm
urmlk whatever we could mU whica rasl.,. ......... , , :...i
mostly alkali water, that left our mouths
bloody an' raw; an' our steers, too, had
been stampeded by a herd of bu.Talos back
on the plain, an' on'y oue yoke of oxen each
was left to a wagon, an' es they couldn't
haul the wagons that way through the san'
au' stones loaded so heavy, a sack of flour
fcr each of the handcarts was tuck ofn 'cm
an' put onto us. It was like death itself to
add another pound to the weight of 'em, fer
lots of us could scurcely hold up the han
dles much less pull, but the wimmen an'
children would push behind an' some would
git inside the handles an' pull, an' with
some a-cryin", an' some n-prayin'. an' some
lookin' blind an' dumb, we struggled on.
"About that time, I mind, one day a partv
with three smart cerriges an' somo light
spring wagons come adashin' up behind us.
It turned out to bo three of the Apostles
and four Elders au a son of President
Young. They was a rcturnin' from a preach
in' tour through the South. Well, they
staid over night with us, an in the mornin'
Apostle Richards preached to us, rcbukin'
us fer the seemin' lack of faith amongst us,
an' tellin' us tho Lord would keep the
winter back if need be on our account, an'
that they'd hev pcrvisions sent out to meet
us at South Pass. Then they rode away in
their cerriges. takiu' some of our best
provisions with 'cm. They didn't realize
our conditions, 1 reckon; leastwise the mis
takes of men don't affect the revalations of
the Lord: them air above errors an' the like.
" But I must sav pine blank most on us
felt purty black around the heart them j
times. Some on us was dyin' every nay an
bcin' left under a pile of stones fer the
wolves to dig at. an' the li in' was Marvin'
an' adyia' by inchc; at the carts, bet we
st riv on'ard hi the desperation of dispc.ir.
Us two famblys from TonncsMf hop togeth
er tho best we could. Tlin ether fambly
was pore like us an had gai most what tliey
had to the cause. The man had neer ben
stout an" now he got worst. lie had two
little children m his eavt. an' hit pore wife
who pushed what she could behind had a
httlc baby on ner oreasi. n was awim io j.,j,v catarrh. It w known that stoat boots,
see 'cm workin' with the shaders of death j umbrellas and wraps, though excellent
acomin' an' agoia' in their eyes. But wo , preservatives ia their way, are not the only
wasu't much better fiff, on'y I was stouter, precautionary measures to be adopted; tha't
r.n' Catherine, who was thin an white es 7e UlUSl endeavor to strengthen tho nerv
paner an' with eyes lookin' big an' wild like . o;j, svstcm. if it be defective, and that
some animal that sec it'sagoin' to be killed.
worked day after day mos' like a person
that's insane. She never said uothiu'. on'y
jest worked an' fit for life. I think it was
araosUy forme thaugn, an our luue sick pepia. or ill humor, we should bo especial
darter alayin' up there in the cart. I lv earcful to guard against cold. CfuaiUn'
" Well, about them days it fell to freezin I jMraajm
at night, an', whereas we could sleep an' j
re-nt some afore, now in the mornin' wo I "Do vor think, young man," ho said,
was a crowd of dazed, shivcrin'. half-dead j
people. About a hundred haa uicu up to
that time, an' there was five hundred of us
strugglin' an' fightin' ahead toards the
darkness.
The man in our other fambly I could see
kep stiddily failin', an' oue mornin' w'en
we started it skeert mo. he looked so like a
fnrr.QP.cn' his wi fa looked nearly like 'im; '
but they kep at it all dy, staggerhf an'
tu'hi an' draggin their foot oriong. But
allthat day ther was a-dyin', my friend, all
that day thevV.i'J a-dyin"! fer weu we
stopped that night the man sunk down In
side of the handles with his face betwixt his
knees an' never moved agin. The wife fell
onto hr side along side the cart, but I got
'cr up an', after getting their tent set up,
laid 'er in it an' fixed 'cr the best I could.
In the mornin' she was dead, though, fze
cold an' stiff, with the child dead, too, on er
treast. There was six corpses in camp that
X
sr
. ft.
OVER AT LST.
mornin'. What days them was! an', God
in Heaven, what nights! We hadn't beu
'lowed but seventeen pounds of clothes an'
beddiu' apiece, an wo jest laid an" shivered
in spasms of cold. I s'pose amost of us d
a died in our tracks on'y fer our faith, fcr
we did hang outer the belief that the word
of the Lord's servants would come true.
But it didn't; they made a mistake some
how, though it wasn't the Lord's fault.
Winter come on earlier 'en common, an'
there we was amongst the mountings,
wadin' rivers, haulin' the carts up hills an'
down through rocky gulches, with our shoes
an' boots wore ofen our feet, cr cat up to
make boxen fer the axles, a long string of
haggard, corpse-like men an wimmen an'
children stumbliu' an' fightin' forred to
ards the bitter end.
"Then at last it got so there wasn't scurce
ly strcnth left to put up the tents at night,
an' every mornin" from six to ten coqses
had to be buried; an some got stupid, an'
some got savage an' lost their minds. My
Catherine jest fit on'ard like a tiger. She
never gin back. She 'peared to me like she
was all eyes an' leaders; there was nothin'
of her much. a:i' fer the last week of it she
never slep ner ct that I seed. I was ono of
the stoutest in the band w'y. when I was
young I could take a ox by the horns an'
throw 'im! but I couldn't nigh keep up
with 'cr. My Catherine was insane was the
reason ! I hadn't 110 heart in me after that.
I and staggered likea drunk
acss? i,ut I lit forred with '
man from weak
er, w e had our
c cr. attic thing an the two children of our
deau (ricn-is in the cart, and she thought
they wuis K our'n. the two from the
little gravt in Tennessee alive again,
an' she kep "cm itivcred up an fed an' tuck
care of 'em. an' at times she'd seem happy
jest like a child an' stop an' play pickin'
flowers along the way, an' laugh, an talk of
the thousans an thousans of miles we'd
come en" of the thousans an' thousans of
miles we'd hev to go yit afore we got to
Heaven, an" I'd jest lay my head down on
the cart an cry, it broke my heart so.
"At last the storm came in earnest. It
begun to snow an' blow tumble, but wc
stumbled on'ard blind-like all day. We
seemed plum crazy to get out of danger an'
our misery, but was runnin' furder into it
everv step. What we suffered could never !
be put in language, l ken muni one pore
i gal with a awlul look on ner lace aiiangin'
I jm half draggin all dav at the cart next to
, oar'n. she now lives near Salt Lake a
porc helpless cripple, fer both her limbs
. . & a
was froze that dav an' had to bj cut off.
to i:c cosTixcnii.
ORIGIN OF COLDS.
"Vervotines a Ir lillc Source in tho Pro
tluctiou of Cularrli.
Cold is not the oulv factor in the produc
tion of catarrh. There is a collateral cause,
and a most important one. in certain de-
which is too little known and appreciated
In healthy conditions cf the nervous sys
tem, provided reasonable precautious are
taken against cold, there is enough vitality
in the organism to resist the injurious in
fluence. The nervous system is in fact, the
guardian, controller, the prime regulator of
animal heat or body temperature, and its
slightest failure to fulfill its responsible
duties the least relaxation of its constant
vigilance renders us liable to fall a prey to
cold.
The following supposititious cases will af
ford an illustration: An individual who
habitually drives about in aa open conveyance-
with perfect freedom from ratarrh.
happens on one occasion to fall asleep when
he is out, aud the very next day has a cold.
The explanation of the phenomenon is to be
found in the fact that during sleep nervous
energy is lowered and the system, there
fore, less able to withstand the injurious ef
fects of cold. If we assume that the indi
vidual was also in a state of intoxication at
the time, the damage done by cold would
be more serious, as the depression of alco
hol is superadded to that of sleep. It is.
therefore, not surprising to find that in
flammation of the lungs is frequently con
tracted uuder such circumstances. We in
stinctively acknowledge the nervous de
pression during sleep by taking the precau
tion to throw a rug over the knees before
our forty wink3 oa the dining-room sofa.
A timid woman comes home one night
pale and ghastly with fright, having en
countered a siceicr elad in white, which
.,;ie cans a
rlios:." In a day or two she
devcloirt v. cold, for which she ci u not ir.
any way account. Fear acts as h crsperate
depressant to the nervous system, crippling
its power of resisting the action of cold:
hence the phrase, 'aliivering with fear."'
Similarly innumerable events of dily life
tend to irritate, depress or excito the
nerves, and render them unlit for main
taiahig the body temperature against the
fluctuations of weather and climate. D.tr-
iPi'the'jvJ unguarded moments, a trilling
exposure to cold or damp is sufiicicnt to in-
when wc are compallcti to expose our
selves to cold or wet when the nerve3 are
depressed from tempjrary causes, such a
fatigue, anxiety, griet. worry, fear, dys-
"that you will be able to take care of my
daughter. Flora, in tho style to which she
has always been accustomed!" "1 think so.
sir," answered the young man conh'Jently.
"She refused to go to the concert with me
last week, because she said .she had 'noth
ing to wear. ''
o m
Floor-wa
Floor-walker (p'geoa-tocd) "Walk this
way, niadame.' Customer Irish woman,
"Walk that way, is it; 4rrah. be off wii
ye, now. share me fat vrjd trow 'aedo'rn.
f I tried it."
tkx
iTSr 'a,. (7?rz
-rm p lj
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-2ff&-J2xM0.
"rWZVMk. '
IMPROVED FARMING.
How Wettrrn rami May lie Mail to TPro.
liic .More Th:in it Krrr IIul.
The tilling of soil ami growing of
crops that is what one usually char
acterizes as fanning; but that term can
scarcely be applied with justice to
much of the work done on our farms
to-day. Farming should mean the per
fect handling of a given portion of
land so that it shall produce a maxi
mum amount of product.', cereals
roots, vegetable, fruits ami grasses
and their secondary products, horses,
cattle, sheep, swine, poultry, egs. but
ter, cheese ami milk. Regarding it in
this light, then, can wc say that farm
ing, so-called, deserves the name? Is
not a great majority of it a mere at
tempt at farming a work begun ami
only half finished; a profession prac
ticed but not thoroughly umlcrMood; a
pursuit capable of the profitable intn
duction mi more brain work into tins
mechanism or its machinery, ami m
short demanding the better education
of those employed in it?
Years
ago when the great Western plains
of America lay iu undisturbed
repose, the prairie grasses ganm.
ally growing up and falling down,
thus gradually but surelv enriching tho
soil whence they came, the pioneer
the farmer" of his day came, saw
and settled thereupon. Possessed, of
limited means and but crude imple
ments for cultivating the soil, with no
railroad facilities and few marketing
j)oints, hts reipiircments were of neces
sity those merely of himself ami family.
Thus no great efforts were needed by
him to secure suflicient returns from
the soil for the maintenance of
himself and children. He merely
"tickled" the soil, so to speak, scat
tered seed and the fertile earth re
warded him an hundred fold. This
man was a farmer sufficiently well
versed for his day and opportunities,
when manual labor alone was almost
all that the pursuit required. Since
then what a change has come to these
Western farm? .ud to the descendants
of those pioneer farmers? The present
generation inherits, net virgin so'l to
cultivate,-but farms that have been
hard run and b.tdlv worked; a legacy
of poverty this to the man who has not
learned more about farming than his
forefathers knew, and worse yet to his
children after him. With the stern ne
cessities of the farmer's position of to
day, surrounded by thousands of men
VUlllirvtlll .... .. .1. ...v. & IXUbS W& '
tin, f.fititlt n- li.iilfllftt,ri,i Itiivli fm.itrltt '
...o ......., ................ ...... ...........
rates and consequent low prices for
products, with land no longer rich iu
nature's store of crop food for the man
ufacture of farm products, farming h:i3
become a most difficult profession.
Men, who, finding themselves iu the.-o
circumstances, surrounded by difficul
ties and possessed of unprolilic soil,
content themselves with farming as
their fathers did must fail, or at best
molrii luif t Ifllit.ifetailii1 liiiiirr f j ii
.,' ., , " i . -,. , ."" ... . . '
., - , rr i iii i
their brows. Those who would make a
- f ...., o...f - .. - n...,.i.., -
fltl.l.1.. w, ala.i,L tl i-i ..It Itbi'.uliiUL -
different class. They are men whose
head work precedes their manual labor
in nvorv ifti!irfiii!iit iif llin fnrni- yi'Ikwk '
manual labor is the carrying of science
into practice, and whose practice is
perfect in detail and correct in prin
ciple. Their farms are farmed in tho
proper sense of the word. Crops arc
taken from the land, and in their place
something is returned to repair the
loss consequent upon cropping. The
land is thoroughly worked, every inch
of it; the crop is thoroughly removed,
no ten-inch stubble being left behind,
is thoroughly threshed, no good grain
finding its way into the chaff, ami is
thoroughly fed to thoroughbred" im
proved stock. In short, the successful
farmer is the thorough farmer, who
understands farming principles and
practically applies thoni. Such farmers
have not each day to look out upon
slovenly surroundings and miserable,
unthriftv 'scrub" stock, but live com
fortably themselves because they have
the better feelings of thoroughbreds,'
and warmly house and properly feed
their stock because it too has a dash of
thoroughbred blood in it, enhancing its
value, and therefore rendering it
worth of proper attention. Our fann
ing has improved because our farmers
have improved themselves, to enable
them to cope with deteriorated soil aud
depreciated prices for products. By
proper farming tho land may be made
to produce more than ever it did. and
by improving the quality of its products
tiic prices commanded by them will be
greater and more remunerative than
before. Farmers' Review.
m m
A man named Burdick, who re
moved from the East to Kansas several
years ago, recently found a tax receipt
given to his grandfather in Allegany
County. New York, thirty-live ycare
ago. He picked up the paper on tho
prairie forty- miles from his own home,
aud miles away from any settlement.
His grandfather never was in Kansas,
nor had the finder ever seen the paper
before. Now he is puzzling his brains
to ascertain how that old receipt trav
eled so far.
A hoed crop should be a part of tho
regular rotation on all farms, for the
ieao:i that such a crop requires close
cultivation, anil wh"n removed leaves
the ground clean. Unless this be done
the weeds will at "ome time take pos
session of the fields, though much bene
fit will result from the use of the culti
vator if a ccm crop s grown.
In ca-e of tomatoes to be grown in
new k:1, likely to bo too rich and send
iij plenty of vines and blossoms hut
lis tie or no fruit, start the plants early
.:i the hnuie; transplant at least twice.
When the plants begin to bloom, r
ja-t before, sink a spule about thu
roots and within a foot of the stem.
METHODS OF BURGLARS.
How They JDUimw or lionet. Jewelry Sa?
l'reclooit Ciena.
A man must be a good mechanic lo
be a burglar a safe-blower." remarked
an old detective. "He must have good
tools and know how to use them. Now.
if you had a drill and undertook to
drill a hole through that stovepipe there
you would probably make a mess of it.
How, then, is an unskillful man going
to make out when he has to drill
through the hardest steel? An expert
burglar must be a good mechanic, know
how to use his tools and where to work
on a safe He has to do his work
quickly, and use a blow-pipe or
some other means of softeningihe steel.
The tools used by expert burglars, the
men who rob banks, arc of the finest
workmanship, and a kit costs $1,000 or
more. It tr.kes some capital for one to--et
a start as a burglar.
"Do these burglars get much of the
proceeds of their skill?" asked the re
port 'jr.
Now." said the detective, "we will
suppose burglars rob a bank safe in
Washington and get. we will say.
100.000 in negotiable bonds Chicago
& Northwestern, orsomcthinglike that-
bonds that are not registered, but
are numbered. The bank has a list of
the numbers. They can not, you see,
dispose of the bonds in open market;
but they will take them to a man wlio
will give them about one-third of their
value. If the bonds are worth par. he
will give them, say 30,000 cash. That
is all they get. Now the man that buys
the bonds calls in another man skilled
in his line, who goes over them and
alters the numbers. For this he re
ceives 10 per cent, of the value c.-r the
bonds. or$ 10.000. Tho man who bought
the bonds has paid out for them so far
$ 40,000. He may figure, you see. a a
respectable broker and easily handle
them himself. After the bonds are
altered he calls in a man known as a
layer down.' It is this man's business
to dispose of or lay down tho bonds.
For this he gets one-half of the profits.
He sells them at the full market value,
say 100.000. and gets half of the (.
000 remaining, after the money paid to '
the burglars and to the man who
altered the mimbcrs is deducted."
"But thieves who get diamonds and
jewelry?"
"Well, snppose." said the detective,
that a thief has got into a man'
house and taken the man's watch.
sav, $150. his diamond stud
worth $1G0. his wife's diamond ear
rings, worth, say. $5J0, and perhaps a
diamond ring. too. making the value of
all about 1.000. He goes to a fence,
who looks at the watch, calculates how
mtich the gold cases will amount to
when melted down, says he will have
to have a new plate put on the works,
so as to alter the number of the watch,
and finally gives 2 for it. He takes
the diamonds from the settings, ex-
amines them
and weighs them, and
gives perhaps .j0 for the stud. s.I:0 for
" i ., . ,
Ie sto,,cs from the ear-rings, and so-
,-,,,. C fc-Tk f .1 t
on, maKiiigm an aomu jj-.ju lor uieioi.
That is all the thief will get for his job.
The settings of the stud and ear-rings
will be thrown aside. It is the stones
that are valuable, and, except iu the
case of very large and valuable dia
monds that are registered, no one could
swear positively to them after they are
reset. The fence, of course, has t
take risks, and many have to keep the
stolen diamonds for six months or
more. If a tence becomes known,
thieves won't put any thing away with
him. If it is a choice between two.
and one of the two conducts his busi
ness so quietly that he has not been dis
covered, the thief will go to him.
though he knows he will get a much
smaller sum for what he has to dispose
of." Washington Star.
WEIGHT OF BRAINS.
A fttady That IJenr-t Directly I'pon
in
Quentloa of Intellectuality.
The average human brain weighs
forty-nine or fifty ounces in the male
and about forty-five ounces in the fe
male. Great brain weight is not al
ays associated with intellectual vigor,
as is shown bv the fact that an idiot is-
known to have had a brain of over sixty
ounces iu weight. But notwithstand
ing the evidence of such cases as that.
of the idiot referred to. great mental
power is generally associated with a
brain weight exceeding the average.
Cuvier's brain weighed ixty-four
ounces. But Gambetta's brain weighed
less than the average woman's brain,
which is. of course, peculiar because of
his great intellectuality. A strange
problem is developed by a comparison
of the average weight of the male and
female brains with the minimum weight
of each within the range of intelli
gence. The average weight of the fe
male brain is about live ounces Ies
than the average weight of a man's
brain. If the weight of the brain were
an infallible gauge of intellect the av
erage woman would. &o to speak, have
five ounces less intellect than the aver
age man. But the weight of brain in
a man below which idiocy exists is
about live ounces higher than it is in a
woman. This is what presents the
problem. If. say, thirty ounces of
brain in a woman saves her fro n idiocy
and thirty-live ounces are rcqui-ite in
a man. what becomes of man's? aver.ige
of five ounces of brain weight i i excess,
of 'he average in woman? The con
clusion seems to be that a smaller
quantity cf female brain is essential to
intellectuality than of male brain.
This is equivalent to saying that the fe
male brain is of a superior quality. I:i
contradiction of this th-; fact n:av lie
cited that in eomparis n uirli m-n bat
few women of great intellectual v.goi-
have appeared in the world.
If the
comparison just made held
true a
woman wkii a irain oi :i;:y ouiu-.es
ought to be the equal of a mail with a
urain of t'ffy-iive ounces. Ds.iv'r i.o-
-i . ,
ii
f.irrT iiaj
