Ligonier Banner., Volume 45, Number 11, Ligonier, Noble County, 2 June 1910 — Page 3
His Daughter-in-Law o By JOHN PHILIP ARTLE
‘- Granger Malton had ambitions. If ft had not been so he never” would have. attained the eminence in the world that as his, for only dogged persistence, an iron wid and desire for power wontld have sufficed to overcome the -handicaps that had been his 'as a poverty-stricken boy and youth. Now that all things material were his, he began to yearn for other joys—. gocial supremacy, for one. Shrewd enough to realize the race was run for himself, he centered his schemes and hopes on his only son, Hadley. It made . him satisfied with life and repaid him for his struggles when he looked at Hadley, who was everything | ‘his . father - was not—big, handsome.{ clever of speech and graceful of manner, so ¢istinguished by his spirit of sheer gofd nature and well being that he wasg‘l\\'ays a marked man when he | entered’ @ room. He drew people to him by a magnetism. that was irresisti- ‘1 ble. He |was pointed out by the crowd | RS a shi/ning exception to the general ‘ run of extremely rich:men’s sons, aad Granger} Malton let himself dream -drea’mslas to Hadley's future, especlally concerning his marriage. ohe Hadldy’s mother, long dead, had. sprung ffrom the same class as Granger : himéelgfi and as the older man looked back through the vista of years and recalled her, colorles., faithful, commonplajce and awkward, he wondered ..a little sadly what she would have done with the money and the granite’ palace |and the power that would have been hprs. Stern honesty told him she would have done nothing—would have sunk peneath the weight in awkward terror, 7 - He | could fancy her shrinking through the big halls of the home he and Hjadley occupied. No; Mary would [T N e % BONILE D 0 — RN \‘S i i ‘i‘;[:\'glai;%[ TS | N ‘\H)‘( lsi' Rl L LB N e Y© | 8 i z}ug) LI /% i']( l\“"i fl\@ 1h o i }f ,5 }l‘/ - ~ el o S _/i//‘\(_ = ] o ° — ~\ = MDA < . : = B b \‘/&\ '.wu—‘ ; o | - “I've Been a Fool.” ; "not have been happy; she could not have grown into the station Fate had in: store for her. Moreover, she would have hampered him. He was resolved that the girl *Hadley married should be one who would not hamper him; | for his son was to progress even fur-‘j ther than he had done. His wife must have been brought up in luxury from‘ the cradle, so what would have made Hadley’s mother gasp would be taken} as a matter of course by her. She must have beauty and youth and the‘ sort of sweet haughtiness that comes from careful sheltering and breeding. ‘ She must be fitted by birth and bringing up to reign over the huge Malton " house on Fifth Avenue and the country place at Newport. For a year or so, Granger Malton had been calmly reviewing the younger beauties of thé town trying to decide which one Hadley should marry, for he never doubted his son’s willingness to please him in this point. He was too shrewd to dictate; but he knew how to manage him. Let the boy think he had all the rope he wantied and yet twitch the rope in the di‘rection he wished Hadley to go. He cluded that it was time to disclose carefully “his general views to his son ‘one night as they sat over their coffee and cigars in the big library, but hisspeechr was checked by the curious expression on the young man’s face, Never had he seen him so pale, so tensely nervous, yet so fearless. “Father,” Hadley broke the silence which fell as Granger Malton’s words trailed off into nothingness in his surprise, “don’t talk to me of marriage—of your wishes—your views! I have something to tell you myself tonight. 1 was married this morning to—" He ceased and sprang forward at his father’s ghastly face, but the older man motioned him away as he slowly recov%red his self-control. Yet his.face was gray and aged from the moment. He stared at Hadley with an awful curiosity, as something new and strange. “Married!” he echoed at last, chokingly. “I can’t believe it! You! To do a think like that! After all my plans. You've spoiled your life! Men don’t . run-off and marry secretly when they are proud of the girl! Who is she? Do 1 know her?” £ e v “No,” said the son, as white as his father. “You don’t know her. But—" , Granger Malton lost his head as the full realization of what this meant broke over him. = He shook one trembling hand at his son. “Go!” he said hoarsely. “It might as well be now, for the break would come, sooner or later! I'll have no shop girl or chorus " girl brought here to make me a laughing stock before the very servants! Is she a shop girl?” o ‘Hadley Malton looked at the distraught old man quietly. “No,” he sald again, “but she earns her own living. Inez Dartmoor—" : s “It’s all the same,” his fathe:r inter‘rupted roughly. “Leave me! I'm done with you, Hadley! You've got ample ‘means of your own I've settled on you —you won't starve!” . Grimly he watched th:ht:n. straight Wfl%’*‘““ saw of his son-
recurred to him he remembered ht sarcastic taunt: “You won’t starve!” He grew grimmer as the days.and months went on bringing no word f: . Hadley. Seemingly he and his wife—how Granger writhed at the word—had dropped off the earth. Hadley’s friends were not his, and he rarely ran across anyone who inquired for his son. A great hunger to know where the boy was and if all was well possessed him. There was nothing but bitterness in his heart when he thought of the unwelcome -daughter-in-law thrust upon him so suddenly. He tried to reason out why a young man as aristocratic as Hadley should have chosen to fall in love with an ordinary girl, a girl he had to run away and marry, because he knew his father would not welcome her. .He remembered dimly that Hadley had sald her name was Inez, but that meéant nothing. She was unknown! He could not be proud of her. His bitter sorrow over the daughter-in-law of his fancy, whom he would have showered with gifts, spolled with his admiration and to whose pretty rule he would have bent cheerfully, was pathetic. She was an impossibility now; the brilliant future that would have been Hadley’s was Jost. - Life was very bitter these days for Granger Malton, and he was aging fast, growing more taciturn, more of a recluse.’ Even his business associates saw_ little of him. He roamed the great granite house sadly, fancying it as It might have been, realizing its uselessness now:
kight months had passed and still no word from Hadley. Beneath his dull anger was growing the’pjtlful hopelessness of age, the one wish to see his son again, to have him near. Granger Malton had reached the point where, if he had known Hadley’s whereabouts, he would have asked him 'to come and see him. ; ;
But he would not ask his wife, and he knew Hadley would never cross the threshold again till she came with him. S
It was some days later, at the close of a conference with Simon Daly, who ‘was interested in the same mines that Malton had interests in, and who had just come hg)me from Europe and was bluff of speech. He slapped Granger Malton on the shoulder as he got to his feet and stood drawing on his gloves. , . b “Say,” he cried, “why didn’t you let a fellow know Hadley was married. Met 'em over in Paris, but I.can’t say I saw much of them, as they—Mrs. Malton, rather—was so much in demand. She’s the most popular person in the American colony theré, I reckon, judging from the invitations I saw piled up-on her desk. Hadley always did bave luck. Not one man in fifty gets the combination he did—beauty and talent and family. Why, Inez Dartmoor’s people have ancestors to burn, but they didn’t have any money till she developed into a genius. They say she’ll be the greatest woman sculptor of her day, if she isn’t now. She’s' the most graceful girl," and her eyes—oh, well, you know all about it. Hadley told me about his wedding—how it took a year for her to make up her mind and he didn't give her ten minutes: to change it again, but whisked her off to a minister’s at once. You're in luck to have such a daughter-in-law.” ~ -
Granger Malton sat leng after his friend left. He was thinking. He remembered now—Miss Dartmoor, whom people had talked about and raved over and so rarely could drag away from her studio. He knew nothing about art, but he did know the prices Inez Dartmoor’'s work had brought, for the papers always mentioned - it. And he had sneeringly called her a shop girl when Hadley had said she earned her own living. Granger Malton had all the awe of genius that belongs to the uncultured man. He remembered, too, the kind of people who had sought after . her. Presently he pulled over to him a cable blank which he addressed to Hadley in care of his Paris bankers. What he wrote with quick, decided fingers was brief. It read: “I've been a fool. Come home and bring your wife.” L
The Short Story.
The commercial value of a short story is a much-mooted question between author and editor, the former pointing to the extraordinary success of such authors as Sir Gilbert Parker, Rudyard Kipling, or Mrs. Freeman, while the latter refers to the sad fate of the general run of short-story fletion, A new .contribution to the author’s side of the discussion is made by the editors of the Harper Readers’ library, Willlam J. and Coningsby W. Dawson, in the preface to one of the new volumes. Prejudice against the short story, say these critics, is largely due to the lack of definite standard, as to just what a short story should be. “If the story succeeds, it appears to be by accident rather than design. Sometimes it is interpolated into the text of a novel by the- most haphazard and clumsy means; sometimes it is really a long novel abbreviated.” Accordingly the Messrs. Dawson suggests that “the true standard demands that the short story shall be complete in itself; that it shall be ‘short because it can not be long;’ and that it shall consist of but one incident.”
Check Impulslveness.;
There is a sort of impulsiveness which often gets people into serious trouble. We are fretted and vexed at the acts of somebody else and we do not wait to think, but say owmt our irritation and wound deeply somie sensitive spirit. We are angry and we let .passion rule us instead of calm reflection. The impulsive person who cannot' control his temper is like one whn carries fire near gunpowder.
Says the Immortal Bard. Some rise by sin, and some by vie tue fall.—Shakespeare.
i Fat s W ‘_/,.' D 7 e %’vfi 24 or »f& fe? - A Fay © ) - A ol Semem ANCUENT: DIOUNY 7AT CHOLILA < < <o ¢
HIS little town pf Cholula, Mexico, of barely 5,000 inhabitants, is an old place that was of con- ; siderable importance not only before the Spanish conquest, but long before the Aztecs. It was a holy city, a city of temples and shriges, and even at the time of Cortez it contained hundreds of sanctuaries that were the object of pilgrimages from all over the country. The plain all around Cholula was dotted with pyramids of sacred character and varying size, all of which were dominated by the great temple of Quetzalcoatl, the god of the air, that stood on the summit of the artificial mound called today the pyramid of Cholula. This pyramid, one of the sights of Mexico, has at present the appearance of a natural hill of regular form. It is thickly grown with bushes and trees and its top is reached by a rough winding road. Nowhere is a trace of its artificial origin, and on the spot where centuries ago stood the colossal statue of Quetzalcoatl and where once burned the eternal fires in honor of the god now rises the Christian church of Nuestra Senora de los Remedios.
The pyramid of Cholula has a height of about 175 feet and, like the pyraanids of Egypt, its sides face the four cardinal points. But, unlike the Egyptian monuments, it was originally built in terraces and could be easily ascended by stairways leading to the sanctuary which formed the apex. While not as lofty as Cheops by' half, it had base lines of double its length and took up nearly twenty acres of ground. The date of its building is unknown, but when the Spaniards came the Aztec legend ascribed their erection to a race of giants sprung from the survivors of a deluge. :
Standing on either side of the broad’ terrace which surrounds the presentday church one has ‘a magnificent view over the fertile valley and the surrounding mountains. Within twenty miles, but apparently close enough to be reached by a short walk, rise the snow-capped peaks of Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl. On the opposite side Is mysterious Malintz{ and on clear days even the peak of Orizaba may be discerned in the hazy distance. Closef by, only a quarter of a mile to the southwest, rises the Cerro de Acozac, a small mound of 50 feet, which hides another ancient monument in the shape of an oblong cube with an apex. [ts sides are almost vertical and it can be ascended only by means of a ladder. About 120 yards to.the west of Cholula is the Cerro de la Cruz, which evidently takes its name from the tradition that it was there that Cortez caused the first mass to be read after his landing in Mexico. The Cerro de la Cruz is somewhat lower than Acozac, but its base lines are considerably longer, measuring over 1,200 feet in circumference. Both cerros are: built of adobe brick, as are the numerous smaller ones.that abound in the neighborhood. L
While a visit to the pyramid of Cholula and, incidentally, to the small town of the same name, s worth the traveler’s while it does not compare in interest to the visit of the pyramids of Teotihuacan, 35 miles from Mexico City. There the national government has uncovered the larger of two great mounds, known as the Pyramids of the Sun and Moon, by removing from fts sides all plant growth and the thick layer of soil and conducting an archaeological research on a scientific basis, like the excavations of Pompeii and Herculaneum. So far nothing has come to light that would serve to dispel the mystery surrounding these ancient monuments. Of their history and origin nothing is known. There is no record of them existing, either
In the Universal Lottery
The following is quoted from the American Magazine and is signed by H. Lee: “‘Here’s the whole thing in a nutshell,” said Brown to me. ‘I am now 28 years old, have my own business, have brought it to such a state that I have decided to take a partner.
“‘Take one,’ answered I. ; “‘There’s the rub,” he gave back. ‘My partner must be such an allaround knowing one that I'm afraid I'll have hard work to fill the position. ¢ ‘
- “‘My partner must be able to make laws and to enforce them, must be able to carry out complicated chemical work, must be a skilled mechanic, must know something of economics, must be able to buy wares of all kinds with due consideration of my finances, must be able to do tailoring, of a kind, if necessary.’
* ‘Hold en, Brown,’ sald 1. ‘Are you dippy, as the vulgarians say? “‘Ne,’ replied he. ‘I want a wife.
in. writing or in hieroglyphic sculptures, although such may have been in evidence at the time of the Spanish conquest. . But if there were any they certainly have been destroyed by the fanatic Hidalgos, and it now looks as if the secret of these pyramids would forever remain undisclosed, for the little statuettes, implements and other relics so far found in the excavations do not contribute anything toward a solution. : ¢ .
Passing by on a railroad train or approaching them with an automobile, the pyramids look rather squatty and fail to make the impression one gets when driving out to the pyramids of Gizth from Cairo. But after you have entered the inclosure with the help of a permit secured in Mexico City you are surprised at the size of the Pyramid of the Sun, which is the one the government has been excavating. It is built in three large terraces rising one on top of the other. Its_ extreme height ts 216 feet. The base lines do not form an exact regular squars, measuring 721 by 761 feet respectjvely. The top platform contains a square water tank, reconstructed of cement and fed by a modern pipe. It measures 59 by 105 feet and is reached by a flight of stairs on one side of the pyramid. ‘
A guide, furnished by the excavation authorities, accompanies the visitor everywhere, and no cameras are allowed within the inclosure. This rule is'a little “graft” for the official photographer,” who sells views of the pyramid and other interesting photographs from a small office in the executive building. I had a letter of introduction to the director and was shown the small collection of antiques kept in a locked room. According to this gentleman the relics found on the ground, consisting of small vessels, figures and masks of obsidian and other stone, while vaguely similar to Egyptian relics of the same character and supporting in a certain measure a theory of racial relationship with the people of the Nile valley, do not tell a story that would help to clear the mystery of these monuments. The Mound of the Moon is 151 feet high with a base of 426 by 511 feet. It is about ten minutes’ walk from the Pyramid of the Sun and is so far the only one to which an entrance has been discovered. This leads into a chamber of hewn stone, the use of which is unknown. All over the plain are scattered small pyramids and traces of an ancient city with walls and fortifications. From one of these a causeway . named ‘‘Street of the Dead” leads to the two pyramids. It is lined by a number of ruined houses, in which many relics and human remains have been found: : Some of the smaller mounds have been opened, too. They seem to have been priests’ dwellings or smaller shrines attached to the greater sanctuaries of the sun and moon. In some of these the walls were found to be painted and frescoed, the colors still being in good condition and showing a wide range of tints. But, as I have pointed out before, no inscription, no sculpture, no record of any kind has so far been unearthed which would give posterity a clue as to the origin and history of the Mexican pyramids, and, with reasonable certainty, we are only assured that they antedate the period of the Aztecs and Toltecs.
SIGMUND KRAUSZ.
Gentle Souls.
“I feel In my bones,’ sald fair Cora, ““That I shall become an old maid.” “But not in your’ wishbone!’ said Dora— Now they don’t speak on parade.
It is better %0 be an hour ahead of time than to find the door locked.
Look around among your friends and see if any one man among them could do all that a good housewife should be able to do. She must make Just laws for the family—and enforce them. She must understand the complicated processes of cooking. Making, mending, washing, ironing and otherwisely caring for the clothing of a family requires mechanical gkill. Bringing up a child properly requires far more knowledge and wisdom than selling dry goods of standard makes and prices year after year. Where i 3 more science and skill required than in the sick room? And if the wife does not know how to do all of these things, how can she direct the work of her paid help, especially if the help knows less than she does?
“‘My dear boy,’ said I, ‘do the way 90 per cent of us do—marry and trust to luek.'” ¢
When a man says he'll do a thing he usually thinks he’ll do it at the time. i
19 SELF-MADE AN Sir William Van Horne Rests After Great Success. American Who Once Worked for $8 a Week In Jollet, Made Canadian Pacific Rallway Greatest Transportation System. Ottawa, . Can.—Sir William Van Horne, who recently retired from the chairmanship of the board of directors of the Canadian Pacific railway, detests fulsome praise of his own career. Out of deference to this characteristic the writer will confine himself, by way of introduction, to the statement = that . Sir William—then just plain William Van Horne, an American railroad man—came to Canada, built and made a financial success of the Canadian Pacific railway when it was the fashion to .predict that the road would never pay for its axle _grease. 2 Looking at it critically, that is about as fulsome as anything could be, since the road with its 13,000 miles of track is the only real transcontinental railroad on the North American continent and with its steamship lines in two oceans is the world's greatest transportation system. Nevertheless it is the truth and must stand. The Canadian Pacifie, that is, the C. P. R, which every one calls it for short, is a Canadian institution, and since Sir William Van Horne during his active connection was variously described as its brains, its heart and its soul, he, too, must be rated as a Canadian institution. o He says that he laid down the chairmanship of the board to have more time to himself, although, as he explained in Canada, the chairmanship iBs not an executive position, as in England. Some years ago he relinquished the presidency of the system to Sir Thomas Shaughnessy, another former American, whom Sir Willlam brought from Milwaukee -years ago. Ever since Sir Thomas took the reins from Sir William’s hands the latter has . stood in the background, ever deferentially leaving the control and the credit to his successor. : Some men—the self-made kind—feel lonely when they get out of the harness, but Sir William Van Horne ‘through all his busy career has had
% AN / D v 3 /////. as PTT =D i /A% "-1 \? [ fé;/ ' “‘% }\\ J fi A £ ! ’{ ;% \T f oK : 7 \\ U 7 SN s ¢ \"l’ ALY i 0227 \\\\l.‘ 1 /s A\ / /” - >y ’ — ! H i s ||| e S /?\ \ - /) //,:/ A | 5 Sir William Van Horne. diversions of an artistic character which, now that a comfortable fortune is his, have approached the dignity of an occupation. They say—perhaps it is a part of the fulsome biography that bores him—that when he was a youngster working for $6 a week in Joliet, 111,, he broke into the library and copied a book from cover to cover, illustrations and all. : HAD HER EYEBROWS CARVED Secret of Good Léoks of Popular Actress Revealed— Real Work of Art. ; Few who have adored the exquisite eyebrows. of a certain charming and popular actress have been let into the secret of those wonderfully perfect features. The eyebrows are delicate, slender, perfectly arched, the penciled brows of the romancer, indeed. Such eyebrows are rarely seen, and these have caused more envy and heartburning among the young women who have beheld them than any other perfection of this very handsome woman.
Now comes: the revelation. Those eyebrows,; ladies, are carved out—yes, actually carved out of a broad and solid bridge of black brow, such as would well become a robber baron of the melodramatic stage. There was at least plenty: of material here for any sort of brows which the lady preferred. ; ; After thinking it over she decided upon threadlike much arched wonders which shone out beautifully against her ivory skin, and lent a surprised, even babyish look to her face. Accordingly these were marked out on the heavy beetling brows which already existed and the razor and similar correctiye instruments were brought into play. Behold then the lady arriving upon the boards, beautiful in every way, particularly enchanting as to eyebrow. And no one yet has guessed it; that is, none but a very, very. few, who don’t count in a great cityful. :
The Slum Disease.
It has been often proved that the barriers by which the slum holds in its people are not ‘long necessary, says the Atlantic. By'imperceptible but rapid degrees its denizens sink into apathy and develop that strange malady of the great modern city, the slum disease. This is an infection productive of ‘infections, a contagion which, as it spreads through the slum, creates ‘new slum dwellers, and leaves its victims stricken with inertia, drunkenness and criminality. = Marvelous it is and worthy of high praise that so many of the poor escape these characteristics. But let them escape or not, one and all suffer equally in their lack of resistance to physical disease. Malnutrition, bad air and overcrowding swell the columns which tell of tuberculosis, pneumonia, diphtheria and every kindred disease. Tie slum is the great culture-medium of -civiliza« tion, wherein huge cultures of disease are growing, ready when ripe to rise and sweep the city streets
% ‘) ~) N A SE > (L " 4 . . U | : ML s A e i T Abl ot i 5 .'1: : . : . ) ; . s . e 5 i -)/ .‘;;,\ ¢ - e w -r:‘ ;, ;_e\v—‘; f e ,-} o AP G s e T A vl e Raas A eDR Sop o M DU Rk g e S o N 5N |SR A e RTR N g o "2‘24- -, X © 2 eeeße X e T N e e R O “@_ " N ’i Sp e 5 3 ) oS B SV AN 2 > g ol fr‘ o 3‘1’34}1 1';;"" i o % Log RS AL T eS R ’\,‘v.‘-s"i \oms E o o Y BN T - L R B e ALY S I sl SR heir Sa i Sk el e e e %fl A Lol TN e R b e T S s CRT AN e T o 800 S TT e W T e TGRS G e L o Mo oM - 5;: o: . o NA‘ ':';i: 3 < : ;S g P ottt iRk ee 1 ss R : SAND AND nfl]wo ALONE v ¢ b
E WHO goes to Soutlfport goes to the region of sandhills, as the ancient namej *“North - Meols,” implies. Southport itself, both as a name and a
. place, is comparatively mod: ern, but the *“Meols” are ancient encugh, for long before Jameson sang, In 1636, it might have been said:
% . . g . Ye guize Of those chaffe sands which doe in moun-
tain rise On shore ‘tis pleasure to behold, which VHoes : Are called in Worold; windie tempest
blows i 5 Them up in heapes. The above derivation will scarcely be questioned now, though wild excursions have been taken into the realm of fanciful etymology in the past’ One imagined that “Meols” came from the “meally” appearance of the sand; and it' has even been suggested that the term was derived from two Greek words, together meaning ‘“‘not sea,” or “no longer sea.” The shore at Southport is a source of delight to the lover of space and color, the play of the light on this almost unique surface 1s rascinating. The sand assumes many shades and charming half-tones, according to its different degrees of dryness and the impingement of ever-altering light upon It, and numerous streams, creeks and gools break and contour with sinuous Mnes and silvery relief. The sky, too, with nothing to break the horizon ling bu(j distant sea, is a wonderful study, ar¥dl as the setting suh nears its
“dip,” the slanting rays are shot between masses of cloud and at obtuse angles along the shore, bringing out light and shade and tone and semitone in distracting beauty. A walk along the sands at low tide in'the evening light is a revelation of spacicus and quiet loveliness. | The sandhills are but seldom visited save by those who know their secret, and by the devotees of golf. The going is too hard for the ordinary pedestrian,
and they are voted monotonous by those who do not look beneath the surface. That surface is ever-changing in its form and is flever ten minutes the same in high-lights and shadows; every wind gives new shapes, and evary passing cloud alters the appearance, while the direction of the sun (when ‘the sky is clear) produce a series of constantly changing effects. The dunes are an object-lesson in blown sand. Scarcely anywhere else around the English coast are circumstances as favorable for this study as here and further south along the same shore. S
Among the dunes themselves and along the shore near at hand one may find the materials and forces which have produced the sandhills as they are now—after a process extending, it is estimated, over a period of 2,500 years. The coast is low and flat and the tide recedes a great distance, only at intervals'approaching near’ to the base of the line of dunes. The flat expanse of sand, rarely wholly covered, dries on the surface and the particles -are blown along in clouds; between the tides, too, the exposed surface rapidly dries. To walk along the shore in a high wind is to have one's clothes filled with sand, and it is a ‘curious sight to look down from the Southport pier on to the drifting clouds of sand being hurried along below. If the stroller along the shore be observant, he may see the initial stage of many a sandhill at his feet. Where a fragment of shell or other small obstruction has become fixed a few particles of the blown sand come to a stop against it on the windward side; more and more particles are brought up by the obstruction, and other particles which have surmounted it come to rest “out of the wind,” forming a slanting “‘tail” on the leeward side. Here #s a. miniature dune, as perfect in its formation and varying slopes as the giants of its kind; an illustration of the way in which the mighty heaps of sand along the coast (some of them rising to a height of over eighty feet above mean sea level) began to be. On the exposed shore these baby sandhills are swept away by the next tide; but they illustrate the genesis of the dunes. When the blown sand reaches a point above tide-level it is no longer subject to such interference as that which demolishes the tiny heap on the shore, and so the dunes are constantly being add-
The Modern English Boy
School Teachers Agree That He -ls Allowed Too Much Liberty and : Criticize the Home.
The modern schoolmaster does not think much of the modern boy, nor, for the matter of that, of the modern parent. This has often been made evident, but seldom so clearly as by Mr. Newsome’s speech .at the annual meeting of the Incorporated Association of Assistant Masters in Secondary Schools. The old idea of a boy was that he was a more or less necessary evil, who had to be repressed and kept in his place, usually by severe measures, but that way of looking at him has now been abandoned, and there is evidence all around us of relaxed moral fiber, of softness and selfindulgence. The pendulum has swung from the Puritan repression of normal boyish activities to an overingulgence which threatens to sap the enérgies of this nation. * It is plaia that Mr. Newspme laye the greater part of the re-
cu . . ' . ! The botany of the sandhills is full of interest. Two growths will strike the 1 visitor at once, the first in order. of ‘beauty being the dwarf willow (?alix i repens). This -1s beautiful at all sear.~:ons, whether in the catkin stage, in ithe summer, or when ‘the cottony-look- | ing seed is being discharged and the | dunes appear as if covered -with snow. iLotze, the famous Dutch botanist, was imuch impressed by .this growth, saying | he had never seen the like. Not that | this willow is uncommon, but it grows !in such unusual profusion here. ‘lt has 'a curious parasite, the “yellow bird’'s ’nest"———a name which accurately de- | scribes its “‘all-gold” appearance. The other - plant which cannot be overlooked by the most casual visitor-is the magram grass (starr grass).. The hills owe the greater part of such stability as they possess-to this = growth. [§s value has long been recognized, for in the reign of Elizabeth "an act was ;passed making the cutting of this grass lan indictable crime. The act is still in force, but may sometimes be more honored in the breach than in the ob- { servance, for a judiclous cutting of the | tops strengthens the roots to such -an { extent that they whil extend for 18 feet or 20 feet in a lateral direction through !the sand. The “binding” effect of this grass is seen-in the resistance offered to the .influence of ~wind where it grows. It is often planted in places where the drift.of sand is too rapid, }and never fails to insure stability.” Of
course, other growths, such as that of the sea calystegia, for example, aid in the binding process. Some idea of the value of such growths, especially of the marram, may be gathered from the
drift where they are absent or scarce. Not far from th=z dunes illustrated in this article is a farm, the buildings of which have been corfipletely buried by blown sand. It is known as “Lost Farm.” I o
There is plenty of wild life on the dunes. There are many varieties of birds, some common, others rtare. Many are only visitants for a brief period, others breed aimong ‘he dunes and slacks. Kestrels and other hawks are common, the merlin finding the many larks to his taste. The great butcher-bird hunts the lizards among the dunes, and the red-backed shrike finds an amply-supplied larder; wheatears abound and scores of varieties of birds are to be met with. Of animals there are a few—rabbits galore (conse‘quently, weasels, polecats, etc.)—with other @frequenters of * sandy. soils. Shrews do not seem to thrive, though they are numerous, for it'has been observed that they are often found dead among the dunes. Green and brown lizards are common,- and their pretty ways well worth watching. From the lower localities the fuller voice of the natterjack mingles *~ with and- . half drowns the less-insistent croaking of. the ordinary frog.. -Enormous - specimens of the commoner toad bury themselves in the sand or lazily fiop along. Whether one has regard to the materials, formation, constant -modifications, flora, fauna, or what not of the dunes, they are full of .absorbing interest, which many visits will not exhaust. It may be mentioned that they constitute about the best point of outlook also. From the higher dunes on a clear day the view is bread and beautiful, extending to the Cumberland and Westmoreland mountains in the north and northeast and to the: Snowdon group in the opposite direction,-while under exceptional atmospheric econditions the Isle of Man may be dis. cerned. One word of entreaty to visitors may not be amiss: -the rarer growths on %he dunes -are to be re spected, and specimens shotild be gath--ered sparingly. To carry away all the flowers of any kind that can be found is sheer vandalism and unfair to other botanists and to all who love to see a plant flourishing in its native situation. The wholesale depredations of some who ought to know better render this protest not unnecessary. In point of fact, the dunes described are situated at Birkdale, which is a “separate. borough; but it'is sufficiently accurate for all practical purposes, and more comprehensible to readers in general, to call them the{ Southport sandhills. ; JOHN URMSTON FINNY.
sponsibility at the door of the parents who are only too anxious at the present day to shift the onus of training the boy, of developing his character and of making a man of him, on to the shoulders of the schoolmaster. Like all other observers, he sees that the great danger which threatens thae nation at the present time {s the danger of confusing liberty with unchartered freedom; and the classroom is only one of the places in which that confusion is apparent. It is in.the home that the slackness has its origin, and it is in the home that it ‘must bq checked.—London Globe.
Making Oneself Ridiculous.
We are never so ridiculous by the qualities we have as by those we affect to have.—Rochefoucauld. - - :
Some people are so lucky that if they should jump from the frying pan into the fire they would put the fire out. LA ;
MADE PROMISE OF SECRECY Therefore Caller Could Only Guess Who Had Taught Youngster to Stand on His Head. “The venerable countess of Cardt gan, the author, you know, of that wicked book of memoirs, thinks the modern girl Is too athletic and boydenish,” said an English visitor te New York. . “The countess of Cardigan oftem tells of a young man who was drinking tea with a heautiful girl when her Mttle brother slipped into the room. “‘Mr. Mannering,’ the boy asked, ‘can you stand on your head? “‘No, said the visitor, laughing, 1 don't believe I can. ““Well, I can,’ said the bog. ‘Look here” “And he stood on his head very neatly in the corner. . “*‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Mr. Mannering. ‘And who taught vou.that? . ““The urchin frowned. : * ‘Sister,’ he said, ‘told me I must never tell.”” . : * ALONE, ALL ALONE. - ~ < SR By 8 ‘-’ -1 . ( ‘ -'fifnf"f-"z!:?i;s‘ R b ¥ 1l ‘ L S ;;,mjl N - . ‘;LI . ’;m/” !“ h Vi I I[;U HitH e | |) ] A | i 1 ”H\l ’ Y 2 :..i, I &7 gV . g A Mrs. Proudmar—l tell my daughtes that her voice is a gold mine! Professor Schnickelfritz (going)— Ach, zah, vat_ you call an abandoned mine, aind't it? . A SOLDIER'S EXPERIENCE. Hardships of Army Life Brought On a .Bevere Case of Kidney Trouble. Y - H. N. Camp, 135¢ s | Delaware St.,, Den = ver, Colo,, says: “Dur ~ . ing the Spanish-Amer v{(" » - ican war, 1 contract 5 _' ed a severe kidne) fi} } ” trouble. After re el eON 8N turning home, 1 was "fi? i& under a physicians S care for months, bu b e grew gradually worse N Finally 1 got so bad | ‘§ ™ 1 could not hold the o urine at all. 1 alse B S had intense suffer--2L e ing from back ‘pains. | e Doan’s Kidney Pills | v 1 made improvement ' ) from the .first, and ? z soon I was well and T strong.” s . Remember the name—Doan’s. .~ For sale by all dealers. 50 cents & ‘box. Foster-Milburn Co.,Buffalo, N. Y. | Wedding Fee Counterfeit. | A well-dressed stranger entered the office of Justice Willlam B. Williams, Montclajr, N. J., and. after shaking hands astonished the justice by say:ing: “I'm here to redeem that coumterfeit $lO bill I passed on you. Tws .years ago | called on you with my 'girl and two witnesses and you married us. I handed you a $lO bill. I had a counterfeit in my pocketbook that I'd. car?ed for several years. 1 never missed it until yesterday. Them I remembered that I'd accidentally handed you the bill.” The caller produced a good $lO bill, but the justice refused to. take it. “Don’t let that worry you, my dear fellow,” he laughed. “I never knew it was a counterfeit. No kind of money sticks to ‘me over night. I'm married, myself.”
Willing to Pay for Rammer.
§ - When the British square at the ba% - tle of Abu Klea, in the Nubian desert, was penetrated by the dervishes, one of them attempted to spear a gun- | ner who was in the act of ramming ‘home a charge. The Briton brained “the Sudanese, but the rammer head split on the man’s hard skull. Next day l the gunner was sent for. Mistaking the reason, and knowing from experi'ence that soldiers are charged for government property which theyp break, he led off with: “Please, sir, I'm very sorry I broke the rammer, but I never thought the fellow’s head could* k@ so hard. . T'll pay for the rammet 50 as to hear no more of the case.” . Shameful. Extract from a young lady’s letter from Venice: - { . “Last night I lay in a gondola in the Grand canal, drinking it all in, ‘a.nd life never seemed so full be _ i fore.”—Lippincott’s. s ! There’s no reason why a woman ' shouldn’t take boarders if she wants ‘to, but she shouldn’t try-to board a moving train. :
There is a reason : Why Grape-Nuts does correct ‘A weak, physical, or a Sluggish mental condition. The food is highly nutritious And is partially pre-digested, So that it helps the organs of ‘the stomach - To digest other food. It is also rich in the Vital phosphates that go : Directly to make up ' The delicate gray matter of brain and nerve centres. Read “The Road to Wellville® In pkgs. “There’s 2 Reason.” POSTUM OERNAL COMPANY, Lad, ~ Battle Oresk, Misk |