Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 237, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 October 1912 — Page 2

The Daily Republican ■vary Day Kxcejpt Sunday HEALEY A CLARK, Publisher*. RENSSELAER, —— INDIANA

EXCUSE ME!

By Rupert Hughes

O**grxl*M, MU, to M. X. Dy oa I SYNOPSIS. Lieut Harry Mallory Is ordered to the Philippine*. He ,and Marjorie Newton decide to elope, but wreck of taxicab prevents their seeln* minister on the way to th* train. Transcontinental train la taking en passengers. POrter has a lively time with an Englishman and Ira Lathrop, a Yankee business man. The elopers have an exciting time getting to the train. CHAPTER 111. (Continued-) Her nether Up trembled and her •yes were filmed, but they were brave, and her voice was so tender that It wooed bls mind from bls watch. He Eased at her, and found her so dear,’ so devoted and so pitifully exquisite, that he was almost overcome by an impulse to gather her Into his arms there and then. Indifferent to the lm> mediate passengers or to his far-off military superiors. An hour ago they were young lovers In all the lire and thrill of elopement. She had clung to him In the gloaming of their taxicab, as It aped like a genie at their whim to the place where the minister would unite their hands and raise his own in blessing. Thence the new husband would have carried the new wife away, his very own, soul and body, duty and beauty. Then, ah, then In their minds the future was an unwaning honeymoon, the journey across the continent, a stroll along a lover's lane, the Pacific ocean a garden lake, and the Philippines a chain of Fortunate Isles decreed especially for their Eden. And then the taxicab encountered a lamppost. They thought they had merely wrecked a motor car—and 10, they had wrecked a Paradise.

The railroad eeased to be a lover's lane and became a lingering torment; the ocean was a weltering Sahara, and the Philippines a Dry Tortugas at exile.

Mallory realised for the first time what heavy burdens he had taken on with his shoulder straps; what a dismal life of restrictions and hardships an officer's life is bound to be. Perhaps young Mr. Montague and young Miss Capulet. Instead of walling, “No, that 1s not the lark whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads,’* would have done no better than Mr. Mallory and Miss Newton. In any case, the best these two could squeeze out was: "It’s just too bad, honey.” "But I guess it can’t be helped, dear.”

‘lt’s a mean old world, isn’t it?" "Awful!” And then they must pile out into the street again so lost in woe that they did not know how they were trampled or elbowed. Marjorie’s despair was so complete that It paralyzed Instinct. She forgot Snoozleums! A thoughtful passenger ran out and tossed the basket into Mallory’s arms even as the car moved off. Fortune relented |a moment and they found a taxicab waiting where they had expected to find it Once more they were cosy in the flying twilight, but their grief was their only baggage, and the clasp of their hands talked all the talk there was. Anxiety within anxiety tormented them and they feared another wreck. But as they swooped down upon the station, akind-faced —tower dock beamed the reassurance that they had throe minutes to spare. The taxicab drew up and halted, but they did not get out. They were kissing good-byes, fervidly and numerously, while a grinning stationporter winked at the winking chauffeur. Marjorie simply could not have done with farewells. “I’ll go to the gate with you,” she said.

He told the chauffeur to wait and take the young lady home. The lieutenant looked so honest and the girl bo sad that the chauffeur simply touched his cap, though it was not his custom to allow strange fares to vanish into crowded stations, leaving behind nothing more negotiable than instructions to wait.

CHAPTER* IV. A Mouse and a Mountain’. AU the while the foiled elopers were eloping, the San Francisco , sleeper was filling up. It had been the receptacle of assorted lots ofhumanlty tumbling into it from all di- . rections, with all sorts of souls, bodies and destinations The porter received each with that expert eye of his. His car was his laboratory. A railroad journey Is a sort of test-tube of character; strange elements meet under strange conditions and make strange combinations. The porter could never foresee the ingredients of any trip, nor their notions and reactions. * He had no sooner established Mr.

Nevelnod from the Comedy of the Seme Name ILLUSTRATED From PtotoSrapha o( the P!«y ■» Prodeced By Beary W. Savage

Wedgewood bf London and Mr. Ira Lathrop of Chicago, In comparative repose, than his car was Invaded by a woman who flung herself into the first seat. She was flushed with running, and breathing hard, but she managed one gasp of relief: ‘Thank goodness, I made It in time.” The mere sound of a woman’s voice In the seat back of him was enough to disperse Ira Lathrop. With not so much as a glance backward to see what manner of woman it might be, he jammed his contract Into his pocket, seized his newspapers and retreat; ed to the farthest end of the car, bouncing down Into berth number one, like a sullen snapping turtle. Miss Anne Gattie’s modest and homely valise had been brought aboard by a leisurely station usher, who set it down and waited with a speaking palm outstretched. She bad her tickets In her hand, but transferred them to her teeth while she searched for money In a handbag oldfashioned enough to be called a reticule.

The usher closed his fist on the pittance she dropped Into It and. departed without comment. The porter advanced on her with a demand for ‘Tickets, please.” She began to ransack her reticule with flurried haste, taking out of It; a small purse, opening 'that, closing it, putting it back, taking it out, searchIng the reticule through, turning out a handkerchief, a few hairpins, a few trunk keys, a baggage check, a bottle of salts, a card or two and numerous other maidenly articles, restoring them to place, looking In the purse again, restoring that, closing the reticule, setting it down, shaking out a book she carried, opening her old valise, going through certain white things blushingly, closing It again, shaking her skirts, and shaking her head in bewilderment. She was about to open the reticule again, when the porter exclaimed: “I see It! Don’t look no mo’. I see It!” When she cast up her eyes in despair, her hatbrim had been elevated enough to disclose the whereabouts of the tickets. With a murmured apology, he removed them from her teeth and held them under the light. After a time he said: “A* neah as I can make out from the —the undigested po’tlon of this ticket, yo’ numba Is six." “That’s It—six!” “That’s right up this way." “Let me sit here till I get my breath," she pleaded. “I ran so hard to catch the train.” "Well, you caught It good' and strong.” “I’m so glad. How soon do we start?” Tn about half a houah "Really? Well, better half an hour

Mrs. Jimmie Wellington.

too soon than half a minute too late.” She said it with such a copy-book primness that the porter set her down as a school-teacher. It was not a bad guess. She was a missionary. With a pupil-like shyness ne volunteered: “To’ berth is all ready whenever you wishes to go to bald.” He caught her swift blush and amended it to—“to retiah.” “Retire? —before all the car?” said Miss Anne Gattie, with prim timidity. “No, thank you! I intend to sit up till everybody else has retired." The porter retired. Miss Gattie took out a bit of more or less useful fancy stitching and set to work like another Dorcas. Her needle had not dived in and emerged many times before she was holding it up as a weapon of defense against a sudden human mountain that, threatened to crush her. A vague round face, huge and red as a rising moon, dawned before her eyes and from it came an uncertain voice: “Esscuzhe me, mad’m, no *fensh intended.” v v The words and the breath that carried them gave the startled spinster an Instant proof that her vis-a-vis did not share her prohibition principles or practices. She regarded the elephant with mousedike terror, and the elephant regarded the mouse with elephantine fright, then he removed himself from her landscape as quickly as be could and lurched along the aisle, calling out merrily to the porter: I

"Chauffeur! chauffeur; don’t go M fasht ’round these corners." He collided with a small train-boy singing his nasal lay, but It was the behemoth and not the train-boy that collapsed Into a seat, sprawling as helplessly as a mammoth oyster on a table-cloth. The porter rushed to hls aid and hoisted him to his feet with ajruneasy sense of impending trouble. He felt as If someone had left a monstrous baby on hls doorstep, but all he said was: - ‘Tickets, please.” f There ensued a long search, fat, flabby hands flopping and fumbling from pocket to pocket. Once more the porter was the discoverer. “I see It. Don’t look no mo’. Here ft l*-*up In yo’ hatband." He lifted It out and chuckled. “Had it right next hls brains and couldn’t rememba!” He took up the appropriately huge luggage of the bibulous wanderer and led him to the other end of the aisle. “Numba two is yours, sah. Right heah —all nice and cosy, and already jnade up.” The big man looked through the curtains Into the cabined confinemenL and groaned: “That! Haven’t you got a man** size berth?” “Sorry, sah. That’s a* big a bunk as they Is on the train.” “Have I got to be locked up In that pigeon-hole for—for how many days is it to Reno?" “Reno?” The porter greeted that meaningful name with a smile. “We’re doo In Reno the —the —mawnln’ of the fo’th day, sah. Yassah.” He put the baggage down and started away, but the fat man seized his hand, with great emotion: “Don’t leave me all alone in there, porter, for'l’m a broken-hearted man.” "Is that so? Too Dad, sah." “Were you ever a broken-hearted man, porter?” “Always, sah.” "Did you ever put your trust in a false-hearted woman T’ “Often, sah." "Was she ever true to you, porter?”

"Never, sah.” "Porter, we are partners in mis-sls-ery,” And he wrung the rough, black hand with a solemnity that embarrassed the porter almost as much as It would have embarrassed the passenger himself if he could have understood what he was doing. The porter disengaged himself with a patient but hasty: “I’m afraid you’ll have to ’scuse me. I got to he’p the other passengers on bode."

"Don’t let me keep you from your duty. Duty Is the —the—’’ But he could not remember what duty was, and he would have dropped off to sleep, If he had not been startled by a familiar voice which the porter had luckily escaped. “Pawtah! Pawtah! Can’t you raise this light—or rather can’t you lower it? Pawtah! This light is so infernally dim I can’t read." To the Englishman’s intense amazement his call brought to him not the porter, but a rising moon with the profound query: “Whass a 11’1 thing like dim light, when the light of your life has gone out?" "I beg your pardon?" Without further invitation, the mammoth descended on the Englishman’s territory. “I’m a broken-hearted man, Mr.— Mr.—l didn’t get your name?’ “Er—ah—l dare say." “Thanks, I will sit down.” He lifted a great carry-all and airily tossed it into the aisle, set the Gladstone on the lap of the infuriated Englishman, and squeezed into the seat op poslte, making a sad mix-up of knees. “My name’s Wellington. Ever hea> of li’l Jimmie Wellington? That’s me.” “Any relationto the Duke?” "Nagh!" He no longer interested Mr. Wedgewood. But Mr. Wellington was not aware that he was being snubbed. He went right on getting acquainted: “Are you married, Mr. —Mr.— t* "No!”

Hang on to your luck, my boy. Don’t let any female take it away from you." He slapped the Englishman on the elbow amiably, and his prisoner was too stifled with wrath to emit more than one feeble “Pawtah!” Mr. Wellington mused on aloud: “Oh, if I had only remained single. But she was so beautiful and she swore to love, honor and obey. Mrs. Wellington is a queen among women, mind you, and I have nothing to say against her except that she has the temper of a tarantula.” He italicized the word with a light fillip of his left hand along the back of the seat. He did not notice that he filliped the angry head of Mr. Ira Lathrop in the next seat He went on with his portrait of his wife. “She has the ’stravaganza of a sultana” —another fillip for Mr. Lathrop—“the zhealousy of a cobra, the filrtatlousneßs of a humming bird.” Mr. Lathrop was glaring round like a man-eating tiger, but Wellington talked on. “She drinks, ■ swears and smokes cigars, other w Ise she’s fine —a queen among women.” Neither this amazing vision of womankind, nor thia beautiful example of longing for confession and sympathy awakened a response. Then as Mr. Wellington shook with jby at the prospect of “Dear old Reno!** he began unconsciously to draw Ira Lathrop’s head after his hair across the seat The pain of it shot the tears into Lathrop’s eyes, and as he writhed and twisted he was too full of profanity to get any one word oat. 5 (TO BB CQNTXNUKDJ

GROWING BETTER DRAFT COLTS

By D. O. THOMPSON,

ment Station. Purdue University Agricultural Extension.

With the birth of the great number of colts all over the state of Indiana this season comes the problem of growing these colts into the best possible kinds of horses. The question of breeding, so far as this year’s crop of colts is concerned, is a thing of the past and cannot be changed. The farmer must now, in order to reap the greatest benefit from his horse breeding operations, devote himself to growing the foal in the best possible manner. Mares which have been worked through the spring’s work and corn plowing and are now at work In the harvest field have, perhaps due to the combined Inroads of work and maternity upon their systems, in many cases ceased to give anything near a sufficient supply of milk for the rapidly growing foal. The foal should not be allowed to accompany the mare In her work about the farm but should be kept at the barn in a clean stall or allowed the run of a small grassy yard or paddock. Choice bits of hay or freshly cut grass should be supplied and a box from which the foal may eat oats or other grain should be placed in the paddock. With oats or a mixture of bran and oats supplied daily in this box, plenty of clean fresh water and a good place to romp and play, with access to a shady spot or dark stall where the files will not torment it, together with whatever milk it may get from Its dam, the foal should

FALL CARE OF THE FLOCK

BY H. E. ALLEN,

Fall is a season of the year when too many farm flocks are neglected. Often the sheep are left to take care of themselves, grazing in a baek pasture on short, dried up grass and with warm stagnant water to drink. Experienced sheepmen have found such treatment to be unprofitable. Breeding ewes that are good mothers, heavy milkers and have raised one or two lambs must have a period of rest after weaning their lambs, if expected to uphold their vitality, thrift and produce a crop of strong lambs the following season. The lambs should be weaned by the middle of August if they were born in March or April, as is the case in most farm flocks. Naturally the ewes will be in rather thin condition after suckling thplr lambs all summer, but care must be taken not to feed them too nutritious and stimulating feeds at this time on account of the danger of the heavier’ 5 ' milking ewes getting spoiled udders. If the udders of these ewes seem to become congested, proper measures should be taken to prevent them from spoiling. Drying up may be induced by partially milking out the udders a few times at two or three day intervals.' Two or three milkings at most will usually suffice. Culling the Ewes. The flock ought to be closely culled before breeding begins in the fall. Those ewes that have not proved to be good producers and do not furnish enough milk to raise at least one good lamb should be culled out. Others that have broken mouths or whose udders have become spoiled in any way should be sold to the butcher as soon as they can be brought into good enough condition. At this time the owner should be well enough acquainted with the performance and record of the various ewep to know which ones to dispose' of and which ‘ ones to retain. Later, the lambs may be culled. Of course the best ewe lambs should

Animal Husbandry Department, Purdue Experi-

Animal Husbandry Department, Purdue Experiment Station.

Purdue University Agricultural Extension.

grow and develop into a strong, thrifty, hard boned, well muscled and good bodied individual if it has hP herent within it such possibilities. Pastures are not filled with yearling drafters weighing 1,200 pounds, two-year-olddrafterßwelghing 1,600 pounds, and three-year-olds weighing 1,700 and 1,800 pounds by men who fail to supply the growing colt during the first year of its life everything essential to its continuous growth and development. The value at maturity of the colts foaled this spring and summer in the state of Indiana can be increased a large per .cent, if the foals are kept growing during the latter part of this summer, this fall, and during winter of 1912-13. The average value of the horses on the farms of Indiana cannot be Increased in the greatest possible degree by merely the use of Improved sires and darns. Before the Indiana farmers can successfully compete with the other farmers of the corn belt in the production of heavy draft horses and with the farmers of the old world in the production of pure bred draft horses they must learn the lesson of correct feeding. Size and substance are essential in the drafter and these cannot be obtained by stinting the colt during the first year of its life. Keep the colt "coming” all the time and you will get a higher priced colt on the market at an earlier date than can otherwise be done.

be reserved for the-further improvement of the flock and the inferior ones sorted out to be sold with the wethers. Uniformity in type and size should be observed at this time, as well as vitality, thrift,, capacity and a good fleece. / “Flushing.” The term "flushing” is applied to having the ewes rapidly gaining In flesh at the time the ram is turned 'jvith them for mating. This is a practice now in favor and is extensively used by the leading breeders in America and Great Britain. It is not only intended to encourage the ewe to take the ram early, but to bring the whole ■fiock to wean as near one time and as uniformly as possible. Then, too, it has been found that whenever ewes and rams are mated that are both in a strong, vigorous condition a higher percentage of twins may be expected. Rape will probably flush the flock better and more cheaply than any other known feed. However,’if this is not available an aftermath of clover is good, and some sort of grain, especially oats, will prove highly satisfactory, though expensive. Cabbage is also recognized as a sheep feed that will accomplish the same results.

Ventilated Houses.

Be sure that the roosting quarters are well ventilated at this time of the year. Pure air is free and inexpensive and will enter every nook and corner of the poultry house, if it is permitted. It is one of the very essential things to the profitable raising of poultry. Close, stuffy quarters are very injurious.

Toads and Lizards.

The gardener who kills toads and lizards must be ignorant of the great service done by these harmless help ful creatures in destroying Insects. Paris gardeners buy toads to put is their gardens and greenhouses.

The Great Appeal

By Rev. E. O. Sellers

Dbedor cTEwnina D.oataa* ci Moodr BN* Imtiiute, Oacaso

TEXT: "Com* Unto Me.”—Matthew U.i “■ • _ The great appeal of Jesus Is to thei Individual. He does hot mention.

loving obedience. We do not come to a dogma, a creed, a church, but to n man; and more, to a God-man —one who knows —a loving, sympathizing Friend.

There is also a universal note In this appeal. Jesus 'ls the only universal man to whom all men turn and In whom they find a mutual point of contact. Crushed beneath a load of despair men blindly seek oblivion. Heathenism offers a future of oblivion or else of voluptuous ease. Jesus says, "Come to Me and find rest.” No paralysis of the soul but eternal activity and growth. The Invitation Is to all who fulfill the conditions, though all may not respond. Yet this appeal Is restricted to thos* that labor. All labor Is profitable, but the talk of the lips tends to poverty. An Idle man has more conceit than the combined reasons of seven men. Labor results not alone In profit, but in weariness. As a tired, child at the close of day finds rest, comfort and counsel in its mother’s arms, so we may find rest “In him.” Jesus saw that the root of unrest Is mental, not physical. Attention Is being called to the alarming Increase of nervous disorders the cause of which we are told Is riot, in any large measure, a physical one. A disordered brain Is far worse than a diseased, body?

There are two kinds of rest spoken, of in this passage, rest found, and rest given. This is the rest given. . The rest of faith (the gift of God), the knowledge of forgiveness, of assurance of our acceptance “in him.** The labor of his disciples shall be heavy laden, bear much fruit, and with it he will "give you rest.” The appeal of Jesus is two-foM, service and instruction. We learn by doing, and logically his first appeal la a call to service, “take my yoke upon you." We are attached to a load with another, he bearing half. It is in this school of experience that we are to learn. Jesus sets no premium upon Ignorance. He is the great examplar of what a teacher ought to be and of how to teach. The following out of his command “to teach all nations” had been one of the distinguishing features of Christianity. ' “Learn of Me.” The world has sat at his feet for nearly two thousand years and has yet to fathom the depths of his knowledge, to measure the breadth of his compassion and love, or to scale the heights of his idealism and his character. '

The meekness of Jesus is not an anemic sentimentality. It does not lack virility. It is not a passionless emotionalism. He came to bring a sword and to set families at variance. He was lowly in his coming, and meek as he bore the oppression of his people Israel and the sins of the race, but he set into motion those force* that were stronger than all of the Caesars. True force is not blatant and self-assertive. Efficiency and effectiveness are in the electric wire, but who can see or hear that marvelous force? So Jesus was silent, but hia meekness was that of the world's most mighty force. “And ye shall find rest” This is rest found. The rest of satisfaction, of right relationship, of knowledge, and of fellowship. It goes on to the deeper experiences of communion. His yoke fits. There is no maladjustment What though the body be tired? Our souls are at rest in him. What though the burden be heaVy? He is bearing and sharing it with us. This knowledge brings rest to the weary souls of men. f If we are to save the world for God it will not be by wealth, not by education, by ecclesiasticism, not by mere numbers of adherents to the church, not by philosophy or theology, but by preaching and living the Gos- - pel of the Kingdom. Jesus knew the test ,of experience, comfort beneath the, load. He knew the rest of harmonious relationships. At the carpenter’s bench, as a teacher and a healer, and as a law-giver, he spoke from the standpoint of experience. Jeans knew that the busy occupied life to the safe life. So it to that his appeal continues to challenge the world. “Hither to Me. - Learn, serve, “for My yoke is easy and My burden is light** Love known not the meaning of irksome service.

“class consciousness.” /He does not say, “Admire Me*, Worship Me,” but, “Follow Me.” Hls appeal is not based alone upon his ethics, his miracles, nor the beauty of hls character. Our response must be Individualistic, not; by doing movements, nor by giving our assent to declarations and pronouncement a Jesus expects our