Crawfordsville Weekly Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 26 July 1901 — Page 7

BRICK WORK. John H. Warner

will again engage In the brick building business In this and adjoining counties. Parties wishing close estimates can have them by calling him over the Home phone 778, or addressing him at Yountavtlle, Ind.

A, A. Swope, M. D. Physician and Surgeon.

OFFICE-Joel Block. S.Wnsh. St. Residence—Home 'Phone 664: Ofllce 618. Calls answered promptly day or night.

LOUIS iWMASN©

Law and Insurance.

ATTORNEY

of American Surety Co., of

New York, the largest bonding company doing business in the United States. Bonds in all kinds of trusts furnished for a reasonable premium. OFFICE—Fisher, Huilillng, Crawfordsville, Ind

Bettra&d E. May,

OSTEOPATH

Wrsinate of the American School of Osteopathy at Klrkaville, Mo. Office 116 S. Wash. St. Hours 7 to 12 a. m., 1 to 4 p. m. Consultation free. Correspondence solicited and osteopathic literature on application.

G. S. McCLUER, Attorney at Law.

Real Estate for sale or rent.

II S So O re S re

Money To Loan.

I am now prepared to make loans in sums of »10 to 810,000, and on the most favorable terms. Chattle and personal security accepted on small amounts. All inquiries cheerfully answered.

C. W. BURTON.

Attorney-at-Law, Crawfordsville, Ind.

Ofllce—Over Mat Kline's Jewelry Store, Main St

ABSTRACTS OF TITLE.

Are now required by careful business men in all real estate deals and examining attorneys are demanding more complete showing of the records, so It is more dlffioult now to make a satisfactory abstract than ever. I can truly olalm to have the longest experience and the best equipped abstract facilities, as well as the best abstract clerk in Montgomery county and will guarantee the correctness of all my work. Bates less'than charged in any of the adjoining counties. |A. C. JENNISON, The Abstracter.

F. A. Dennis,

Physician and Surgeon.

Genlto-Urlnary and Recta! Diseases a Specialty.

Office in Thomas Block—East Main StreetHome 'Phone 394.

(HI

When Others Fail!

To make your watch run, and keep good time, then bring it to me, and I will show you that I know my business. Good Work—Reasonable] Charges.

W. P. Burkett, Watchmaker.

C'rawfordsvillelAVateh Hospital.

IN E N

Mrs. Will Hunt Spent Saturday in Swayzee. We are glad to see Miss Rose Shotts out again.

Quite a number of our people are on the sick list. Mr. and Mrs. Groscuth are now living at Ed Johnson's.

Mrs. Fred Snyder has gone to Dayton, Ohio, to visit her parents. Miss Clara Martin assisted in a musical at Clark's Hill last Saturday.

Mesdames Southern and Souders are visiting their parents in Kentucky. Newton Staley has moved into Mrs. Montgomery's property on Main street.

Miss Maude Church, accompanied by Master Bruce Church, are visiting in Indianapolis.

Mrs. Whitely returned last week from an extended visit with her parents in St. Louis.

Mr. and Mrs. Earl Thompson have returned from a visit with their parents in Frankfort.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilbert have returned to Indianapolis after a two weeks' visit with Mrs. Wilbert's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Coleman.

The Linden band has been invited by the Monon company to go to Chicago next Sunday. They will be accompanied by their wives and sweethearts.

LADOGA.

A. L. Henry was home from the city over Sunday. Fred Grimes spent Sunday with his lady friend at Crawfordsville.

Geo. Dicks has returned to Indianapolis after a ten days' stay with home folks.

Owen and Fred Johnson are at home from the city for the extreme hot weather.

Mrs. Geo. Havens and daughter Opal are expected Home from their western trip Sunday.

Miss Emma Whitenack, of Crawfordsville, has concluded her visit here with Miss Nina Anderson.

A hack load of Knights Tempiar were driven to the county seat Tuesday night, arriving home some time the next morning.

The two-story business block owned by Jim Knox, consisting of six store rooms, is tc be fitted for steam heating, work to begin immediately.

Mrs. Lottie Johnson has returned after a four weeks' visit with her sisters, Mrs. Luther Benson and Mrs. M. H. Bresette, of Indianapolis.

Return the favor.

We desire to thank the public for the liberal patronage accorded The Big Store during the spring and summer season, and wish to remind those who have been accommodated by having goods charged will return the favor doubly by calling at the store and making settlement at once.

Respectfully, L. BISCHOF.

UNDER

two FLAGS

S S

By "OUiDA."

CHAPTER IX.

jlGARETTE was as caustic as a Voltaire this morning. ComSal tlirouuli the entrance of iw the hospital, she had casually heard that Mmo. la Princosse Corona d'Amague had made a gift of singular munificence and mercy to the invalid soldiers—a gift ol' wine, of fruit, of flowers, that would brighten their long, dreary hours for many weeks. Who Mine, la Priucesse might be she know not but the title was enough she was a silver pheasant—bah! And with a word here and a touch there, tender, soft and bright, since, however ironic her mood, she never brought anything except sunshine to those who lay in such sore need of it, beholding the' sun in the heavens only through the narrow chink of a hospital window. At last she reached tlie bed she came most specially to visit—a bed on which was stretched the emaciated form of a man once beautiful as a Greek dream of a god. The dews of a great agony stood on his forehead his teeth were tight clinched on lips white and parched. She bent over him softly. "Good day, M. Leon. I have brought you some ice."

His weary eyes turned on her gratefully. He sought to speak, but the effort brought the spasm on his lungs afresh. It shook him with horrible violence from head to foot, and the foam on his auburn beard was red with blood.

There was no one by to watch him. He was sure to die a week sooner or later—what mattered it? He was useless as a soldier—good only to be thrown into a pit, with some quicklime to hasten destruction and do the work of the slower earthworms.

Cigarette said not a word, but she took out of some vine leaves a cold, hard lump of ice and held it to him. The delicious coolness and freshness in that parching noontide heat stilled the convulsion. His eyes thanked her, though his lips could not. He lay panting, exhausted, but relieved, and she, thoughtfully for her, slid herself down on the floor and began singing low and sweetly as a. fairy might sing on the raft of a water lily leaf. "Ah, that is sweet.,'' murmured the dying man. "It is like the brookslike the birds—like the winds in the leaves."

He was but half conscious, but the lulling of that gliding voice brought him peace. And Cigarette sang on. only moving to reach him some fresh touch of ice, while time traveled on and the first afternoon shadows crept across the bare floor. It was a rete day in Algiers. There were flags and banners fluttering from the houses there were Arab races and Arab maneuvers there was a review of troops for some foreign general: there were all the mirth and the mischief that she loved and that never went on without her. But still she never moved, though all her vivacious life was longing to he out and in their midst on the back of a desert horse, on the head of a huge drum, perched on the iron support of a high hung lantern, standing on a cannon while the horse artillery swept full gallop, firing down a volley of argot on the hot homage of a hundred lovers. But she never moved. She knew that in the general gala these sickbeds would be left more deserted and less soothed than ever. She knew, too, that it was for the sake of this man, lying dying here from the lunge of a Bedouin lance through his lungs, that the ivory wreaths and crosses and statuettes had been sold.

And Cigarette had done more than this ere now many a time for lier "children."

The day stole on. Leon Ramon lay very quiet. The ice for his chest and the song for his ear gave him that semi-

Began singing low and sweetly. oblivion, dreamy and comparatively painless, which was the only mercy which could come to him.

A step sounded on the bare boards. She looked up, and the wounded man raised his weary lids with a gleam of gladness under them. Cecil bent above his couch. "Dear Leon, how Is It with you?"

His voice was softened to Infinite tenderness. Leon Ramon had been for many a year liis comrade and his friend, an artist of Paris, a man of marvelous genius, of high idealic creeds, who in a fatal moment of rash despair had flung his talents, hit broken fortunes, his pure and noble spirit into the fiery furnace of the hell of military Africa and now lay dying here, a common soldier, forgotten as though he werg already In his grave.

"The review is just over. I got ten minutes to spare and came to you the instant 1 could," pursued Cecil. "See here what I bring you! You, with your artist's soul, will feel yourself all but well when you look on those!"

He placed on his bed some peaches bedded deep in moss and circled round with stephanotis, with magnolia, with roses, with other rarer flowers still. The face of the artist soldier lightened with a longing joy. His lips quivered. "Ah, God! They have the fragrance of my France!"

Cecil said nothing, but moved them nearer into the clasp of his eager hands. Cigarette he did not see. "They are beautiful!'' the dying man said faintly at length. "They have our youth in them. How came you by them, dear friend?" "They are not: due to me," answered Cecil hurriedly. "Princess Corona sends them to you. She lias sent great gifts to the hospilai wines, fruits, a profusion of flowers such as those. Through her these miserable chambers will bloom for awhile like a garden, and the best Mines of Europe will slake your thirst." "It is very kind," murmured Leon Ramon languidly. "But 1 am ungrateful. Cigarette here—she lias been so good, so tender, so pitiful. For once 1 have almost not missed you."

Cigarette, thus alluded to. sprang to her feet, with her head tossed back and all her cynicism back again. A hot color was on her cheeks, the light had passed from her face, she struck hei white teeth together. She had thought Bel-a-faire-peur chained to his regiment in the field of maneuver, or she would never have come thither to tend his friend. She had felt happy in her sell sacrifice, she had grown into a gentle pensive, merciful mood, singing here by the side of the dying soldier, and now the first thing she heard was ol the charities of the princess!

That was all her reward. Cigarett* received the recompense that usuallj comes to generous natures which have strung themselves to some self surren der that costs them dear.

Cecil looked at her surprised and smiled. "My pretty one, is it you? That is in deed good. You were the good angel ol my life the other night and today come to bring consolation to my friend"— "'Good angel!' Chut' M. Victor There is nothing of the angel about me I hope. Your friend too! Pruttut! you think I have never been used tc taking care of my comrades in hoa pitais before you played the sick nurse here?"

She spoke with all her brusque petu lance in arms again. She hated thai he should imagine she had sacrificec her fete day to Leon Ramon becaust the artist trooper was dear to him.

He smiled again he did not understand the caprices of her changefu, moods, and he did not feel that interest in her which would have madi him divine the threads of their vagaries. "I did not think to offend you, mj little one," he said gently. "I mean» only to thank you for your goodness to Ramon in my absence."

Cigarette shrugged her shoulders. "There was no goodness, and there need be no thanks. Ask Pere Matoi how often I have sat with him hours through." "But on a fete day! And you who love pleasure and grace it so well"— "Ouf! I have had so much of it," said the little one contemptuously. "It is so tame to me. Clouds of dust, scurry of horses, fanfare of trumpets, thunder of drums and all for nothing! Bah! I have been in a dozen battles— I—and I am not likely to care much for a sham light." "Nay, she is unjust to herself," murmured Leon Ramon. "She gave up the fete to do this mercy—it has been a great one. She is more generous than she will ever allow. Here, Cigarette, look at these scarlet rosebuds they are like your bright cheeks. Will you have them? I have nothing else to give." "Rosebuds!" echoed Cigarette, with supreme scorn. "Rosebuds for me? I know no rose but the red of the tricolor. and I could not tell a weed from a flower. Besides, I told Miou-Matou just now, if my children do as I tell them, they will not take a leaf or a peaclistonfe from this grande damehow does she call herself ?—M me. Corona d'Amague!"

Cecil looked up quickly. "Why not?" Cigarette flashed on him her brilliant brown eyes with a fire that amazed him. "Because we are soldiers, not paupers. And it is not for the silver pheasants, who have done nothing to deserve their life but lain in nests of cotton wool, and eaten grain that others sow and shell for them, and spread their shining plumage in a sun that never clouds, above their heads, to insult, with the insolence of their 'pity' and their 'charity,' the heroes of Prance who perish as they have lived, for their country and their flag!"

Cecil laughed slightly, but he answered with a certain annoyance: "There is no 'Insolence' here no question of it. The princess desired to offer some gift to the soldierB of Algiers. I suggested to her that to increase the scant comforts of the hospital and gladden the weary eyes of siek men with beauties that the executive never dreams of bestowing would be the most merciful and acceptable mode of exercising her kindness. If blame there be in the matter, it is mine." in defending the gonerosity of what he knew to be a genuine and sincere wish to gratify his comrades he betrayed what he did not intend to have revealed—namely, the conversation that had passed between himself and the Spanish princess. Cigarette caught at the inference with the quickness of her lightninglike thought "Oh-he! So it is she!"

There was a whole world of emphasis, scorn, meaning, wrath, comprehen­

sion and irony in 'the four monosyllables. The dying man looked at her with languid wonder. "She? Who? What story goes with these roses?" "None," said Cecil, with the same inflection of annoyance in his voice. "None whatever. A generous thoughtfulness for our common necessities as soldiers"— "Ouf!" interrupted Cigarette before his phrase was one-third finished. "Thcstalled mare will not go with the wild coursers. An aristocrat may live with us, but he will always cling to his old order. This is the story that runs with the roses. Miladi was languidly insolent over some ivory chessmen, and Corporal Victor thought it divine because languor and insolence are the twin gods of the noblesse. Miladi, knowing no gods but those two, worships them and sends to the soldiers ol France, as the sort of sacrifice her gods love, fruits and wines that day aftei day are set on her table to he touched, if tasted at all, with a butterfly's sip. and Corporal Victor fiuds this a charity sublime—to give what costs nothing and scatter a few crumbs out from the profusion of a life of waste and indulgence! And I say that if my children are of my fashion of thlukinj they will choke like dogs dying of thirst rather than slake their throats with alms cast to them as if they were beggars!"

With which Cigarette lit her pipe and hurried away. Her wrath was hot and her heart heavy within her. She had given up her whole fete day to wait on the anguish and to soothe the solitude of his friend lying dying there, and hei reward had been to hear him speak ol this aristocrat's donations, that cosl her nothing but the trouble of a few words of command to her household, as though they were the saintly charities of some angel from heaven. In that moment she could have shot him dead herself without a second's thought. "You have vexed her, Victor," said Leon Ramon as she was lost to slghl through the doors of the great desolate chamber. "I hope not. I do not know how," an swered Cecil. "It is impossible to follow the windings of her wayward caprices—a child, a soldier, a dancer, a brigand, a spoiled beauty, a mischievous gamin. How is one to treat such a little fagot of opposites?"

The other smiled. "Ah, you do not know the little one yet. She is worth a study. I painted her years ago. There was not a picture in the Salon that winter that was sought like it. Her future? Well, she will die, I dare say, some bright day or another at the head of a regiment with some desperate battle turned by the valor of her charge and the slghl of the torn tricolor upheld in her little hands. That hi what Cigarette hopes for. Why not/ There will always be a million of commonplace women ready to keep up the decorous traditions ol their sex and sit in safety over theii needles by the side of their hearths One little lioness here and there in a generation cannot do overmuch harm.''

Cecil was silent. Cigarette was charming now—a fairy story set into living motion, a fantastic little firework out of an extravaganza, with the Impudence of a boy harlequin and the witching kittenhood of a girl's beauty. But when this youth that made it all fair should have passed, when there should be left in its stead only sliamelessness, hardihood, vice, weariness, those who found the prettiest jest in her now would be the first to cast aside with an oath the charred, wrecked rocket stick of a life from whicli no golden, careless stream of many colored fires of coquette caprices wouid rise and enchant them then. "Who is it that sent these?" asked Leon Ramon later on as his hands still wandered among the flowers. For the moment he was at peace the ice and the hours of quietude had calmed him.

Cecil told him again. "What does Cigarette know of her?" he pursued. "Nothing, except, I believe, she knew that Mme. Corona accepted my chess carvings." "Ah, I thought the little one was jealous. Victor." "Jealous? Pshaw! Of whom?" "Of any one you admire, especially of this grande dame." "Absurd," said Cecil, with a sense of annoyance. "Cigarette is far too bold a little trooper to have any thoughts of those follies, and as for this grande dame, as you call her, I shall in every likelihood never see her again unless when the word is given to 'carry swords' or 'lances' at the general's salute, where she reins her horse beside M. le Marechal's at a review, as I have done this morning."

The keen ear of the sick man caught the inflection of an impatience, of a mortification, in the tone that the speaker himself was unconscious of. "Cigarette Is right," said Ramon, with a slight smile. "Your heart Is with your old order. Well, keep your history aa you have always dona, If you will. What my friend waa matters nothing. I know well what he is and hoy true a friend. Ab for

miladi,

she

will be Be5t "out of your paTE, Victor. Womenl God, they are so fatal! Do you know what brought me here? No? As little aB I know what brought you, though we have been close comrades all these years. Well, It was she! I was an artist. I had no money, I had few friends, but I had youth, I had ambition, I had, I think, genius till she killed It. I loved my art with a great love, and I was happy. Happy—until she looked at me," he pursued, while his voice grew in feverish haste over the words. "Why would she not let me be? She had them all in her golden nets—nobles and princes and poets and Boldiers she swept them In far and wide. She had her empire. Why must she seek out a man who had but his art and his youth and steal these? It was the first year I touched

triumph that 1 saw her. They began for the first time to speak of me. It was the little painting of Cigarette as a child of the army that did it. Ail, God, thought myself already so famous! Well, she sent for me to take her picture, and I went. I went, and I painted her as Cleopatra—by her wish. Ah. it was a face for Cleopatra, the eyes that bum your youth dead, the lips that kiss your honor blind! Through mouth oil month my picture grew, and my passion grew with it, fanned by her hand. She knew that never would a man paint, her beauty, like one who gave his soul for the price of su-ress. Then came my regard. When the picture was done, her fancy had changed. A light scorn, a careless laugh, a touch of her fan on my cheek. Could I not understand": Was I still such a child'.' Must 1 be broken more harshly in to learn to give place'.' That was all, and at. last li'-r lackey pushed me back with his wand from her gates! She had killed ni ". She had struck my genius dead. What of thct? She had lier beauty eternal in the picture she needed, and the whole city rang with her iovelinees as ihey looked on my work. I have never painted again. I came here. What of that? An artist the less, then, the world did not care. A life th less s*fton, she will not care either!"

Then as the words ended a greai wave of blood beat back his breath and burst from the pent up torture of his striving lungs and stained red the dark and silken masses of his beard. His comrade held lilm upward in his arms and shouted loud for help. The great luminous eyes of the French soidlei looked up at him through their mist with the deep, fond gratitude that beams in th«* eyes of a dog as it dropsdown to die. knowing one touch and one video 1o the last. "You do not forsake," he murmured brokenly, while his voice ebbed faint ly away as the stream of his life flowed faster and faster out. "It is over now —so best! If only

I

She saw him as he went beneath her balcony, and she sang all the louder, she flung lier sweetmeat missiles with the reckless force of a Roman carnivalist, she launched bolts of tenfold more audacious raillery at the delighted mob below. Cigarette was a good soldier when she was wounded she wound her scarf round the nerve that ached and only laughed the gayer.

And he did her that injustice which the best among us are apt to do to those whom we do not feel interest enough In to study with that closeness which can alone give comprehension of the intricate and complex rebus, so faintly sketched, so marvelously involved, of human nature.

He thought her a little leopard in her vivacious play and her inborn bloodtliirstiness. Well, the little leopard of France played recklessly enough that evening. Algiers was en fete, and Cigarette was sparkling over the whole of the town like a humming bird or a firefly—here, there and everywhere. She played through more than half the night the agile, bounding, graceful play of the young leopard to which he had likened her and with a quick punishment from her velvet sheathed talons if any durst offend her. Then when the dawn was nigh, leopardlike, the little one sought her den. "The chateau of Cigarette" was a standing jest of the army, for none was ever allowed to follow her thither or to behold the interior of her fortress, and one overventurous spahls, scaling the ramparts, had been rewarded with so hot a deluge of lentil soup from a boiling casserole poured on his head from above that he had beaten a hasty and ignominious retreat. "The chateau of Cigarette" was neither more nor less than a couple of garrets high in tho air In an old Moorish house In an old Moorish court, decayed, silent, poverty struck. Up a long and winding rickety stair Cigarette approached her castle and opened her door. There was a dim oil wick burning. The garret was

I

could have seen

France once more—France"— Then a deep sigh quivered through his lips, his hand strove to close on the hand ol his comrade, and his head fell, resting on the flushed blossoms of the rosebuds of Provence.

He was dead

An hour later Cecil left the hospital, seeing and hearing nothing of the gay riot of the town about him, though the folds of many colored silk and bunting fluttered across the narrow Moorish streets, and the whole of the populace was swarming through them with the vivacious enjoyment of Paris mingling Witli the stately picturesque life of Arab habit, nnd "•istom. In Leon Ramon he had foin®a man whom he had loved and who had loved him. And now that the one lay dead a heavy, weary sense of loneliness rested on the other. Passing one of the cafes, a favorite resort of the officers of Ills own regiment, he saw Cigarette. Her tunic skirt was full of bonbons and crackers that she was flinging down among the crowd while she sang, stopping every now and then to exchange some passage of wit with tliem that made hei hearers scream with laughter, while behind her was a throng of young officers drinking champagne, eati«ag ices and smoking, echoing her songs aud her satires with enthusiastic voices and stamps of their spurred boot heels. As he glanced upward she looked literally in a blaze of luminance, and the wild, mellow tones of her voice ringing out sounded like a mockery of that dying bed beside which they had both so lato stood together. "She has the playfulness of the young leopard, and the cruelty," he thought, with a sense of disgust, forgetting that she did not know what he knew and that if Cigarette had waited to laugh until death had passed by she would have never laughed all her life through In the battalions of Africa.

7

large and as clean as a palace could bi-. Its occupants were various and all sound asleep except one. who, rough and hard and small and throe logged, limped up to lier and rubbed a little builet head against her lovingly. "P.outTarick, little Bouffarick," returned Cigarette caressingly in a whisper. and Bouffarick. content, limped back to a nest of hay. being a 111 tie wiry dog that had lost a leg in one of the famous battles of Or.au and lain in its dead master's breast through tluvft days and nights on the lirhl. Cigarette, shading the lamp with one band, glanced round on her family. '1 hey had ail histories—histories in the French army, which was the only history she considered of any import to the universe. There was a raven perched high, hy name VoIe-qui-Vout. lie was a noted character among the zouaves and had made many a campaign riding on his owner's bayonet. He loved a combat and was specially famed for screaming "Tue, tue, tne!" all over a battlefield.

Cigarette glanced round on her family. He was very gray now, and the zouave's bones had long bleached on the edge of the desert.

There was a big white cat curled In a ball that had been the darling of a Tringlo and had traveled all over north Africa on the top of his mule's back seven seasons through. In the eighth the Tringlo was picked off by a flying shot.

There were little Bouffarick and three other brother dogs of equal celebrity, one in especial, that had been brought from Clialous, in deilanee of the regulations, inside the drum of his regiment and had been wounded a dozen times, always seeking the hottest heat of the skirmish. And there was, besides these, sleeping serenely on a straw palliasse, a very old man with a snowy beard and a head fit for Gerome to give to an Abraham.

A very old man—one who had been a conscrlnt. in the hands of young France ana marched from his Pyrenean village to the battle tramp of the "Marseillaise" and charged with the children of Paris across the plains of Gemappus, who had known the passage of the Alps and lifted the long curls from the dead brow of Desalx at Marengo and seen in the sultry noonday dust of a glorious summer the guard march into Paris, while the people laughed aud wept with joy, surging like the mighty sea around one pale, frail form, so young by years, so absolute by genius.

A very old man, leng broken with poverty, with pain, with bereavement, with extreme old age, alone save for the little Friend of the Flag, who for four years had kept him on the proceeds of her wine trade in this Moorish attic, tending him herself when in town, taking heed that he should want for nothing when she was campaigning. In her sight the survivor of the army of Italy was sacred sacred tho eyes which, when full of light, had seen the sun glitter on the breastplates of the hussars of Murat, the dragoons of Kellcrman, the cuirassiers of Mllhaud sacred the hand which, when nervous with youth, had borne the standard of the republic victorious against the gathered Teuton In the Thermopylae of Champagne sacred the ears which, when quick to hear, had heard the fhunder OT Areola, of Lodi, of Rivoli and, above even the tempest of war, the clear voice of Napoleon.

Cigarette had a religion of her own and followed it more closely than most disciple^ follow other creeds.

TO BE CONTINUKD.

RURAL ROUTE NO. 2. Mrs. Dora Auman Is improving slowly.

Mart Love and family visited relatives near Pawnee Sunday. There will be preaching at Obberbein Sunday morning at eleven o'clock.

F. R, Clossin and Walter Mason spent Sunday with friends in Ladoga. Bert Chesterson and family, of Indianapolis, are visiting with relatives and friends.

Mrs. Jasper Dinsmore, of Ladoga, visited her sister, Mrs. Dora Auman, Monday.

L. J. Coppage and wife, of Crawfordsville, visited at John Everson's Sunday.

Frank Gray and John Hunt were the first to have their threshing done in the uiclnity of Tinkersville.

Quite a number of farmers along the route are just putting up their oats for feed instead of threshing it.

One evening last week as Mrs. Gray was milking, her little son, Carl, waB playing close by when all at once the cow gave a snort of rage and sprang toward the child. Mr. Gray was standing near and saw the danger, picked up a stick and striking the cow over the head, knocked her to her knees. If it had not been for his presence of mind the child might have been seriously hurt.

Bio

Store millinery at half price and less this week. c~ L. BISCHOF.