Rensselaer Journal, Volume 12, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 February 1903 — Page 2

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The Rensselaer Journal Published Every Thursday by LESLIE CLARK. SUBSCRIPTION RATES. One Copy One Year 11.00 One Copy Six Months 60 One Copy Three Months. 25 Entered at the post office at Rensselaer Ind., as second class mall matter.

The Littlefield trust bill is not sufficiently drastic for the Democrats, and they have reported amendments to insure busting as well as regulating of the trusts. The Baltimore health department announces that rats carry consumption, and the Kansas City Journal inquires how it happens, then, that cats dqn’t catch it. When cats get into close enough proximity to rats, it is usually a case of consumption. The Hon. James K. Jones is nearing the end of his senatorial incumbency. All good Republicans are hoping that he will be continued as the chairman of the Democratic National Committee. At the celebration of President McKinley’s birthday in New York, Secretary Shaw paid a beautiful tribute to the memory of the martyred President. Referring to the tariff issue, of which McKinley was expounder, he said: “I am aware that most of the text-books and many of the colleges teach free trade, and I admit that free trade is theoretically correct.,. I am aware that nearly every statesman whose wisdom has contributed to the advancement of industrial prosperity in the United States during the last century has taught protection, and I insist that practically speaking protection is correct.”

Senator Martin, of Virginia, that good old Democratic commonwealth, breaks to the front with the startling announcement that the next Presidential campaign will be fought on the issue of ‘‘tariff revision.” But what about the other paramount Democratic issues of imperialism, trust busting, and—well yes, free silver? “If the Democratic party were in a position to revise the tariff,” he says, “it could relieve the burdens the trusts have imposed upon it.” Mr. Martin should introduce a bill in Congress and label it “A bill for the Cure of all Evils, Imaginary and Otherwise.”

It is a significant fact and it is uncertain argument to the western Congressmen who contend that the pres'ent operation of the Desert Land Act and the commutation clause of the Homstead Act are used for speculative purposes by the big stock outfits, that during the past year hundreds of thousands of Uncle Sam’s best acres have been taken up under these laws in Montana, Arizona, and in sections of other States, while at the same time there has been no increase in population, showing that the lands have not been acquired by actual settlers at all. This simply means that the speculators and the land grabbers have extended their areas through fraudulent entries of these lands. It is time that the people of the country took hold of this question and put an end to this era of wholesale stealing of public domain.

CHILL WINDS Art the dread of those whose lungs are "weak.” Some fortunate people can follow the summer as it goes southward, and escape the cold blasts of winter and the chill airs of spring. But for the majority of people this is impossible. Family cares and business obligations hold them t fast. \ "Weak” lungs are made strong by the use of Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery. It cures the ■ obstinate cough, heals the indarned tissues, stops the hem- _ orrhage, and restores the lost the ema- ' body. agent,” Staples, Esq., of Barclay, Osage Co., J| ,, if' '* / Kans., «ana four [/ i years ago my work I ‘ 1 keeping me in a warm room and stepping out freair gave me bronchitis 60 became chronic and deep seated. Doctors failed to reach my case and advised me to try a higher air, but, fortunately for me, a friend also advised me to try Dr. Pierce’s medicines. I commenced taking your Golden Medical Discovery,’ and by the tune I had taken the first bottle I was better, and after taking about four bottles my cough was entirely gone. I have found no necessity for seeking another climate.” Sometimes a dealer, tempted by the little more profit paid on the sale of less meritorious medicines, will offer the customer a substitute as being "iu3t as good” as the "Discovery.” - You get the People’s Common Sense Medical Adviser, the best medical work ever published, free by sending stamps,' to pay expense of mailing only. Send ai one-cent stamps for book in paper covers, or 31 stamps for cloth-boundvoi-ume, to Dr. R. V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y.

THE MYSTERY OF COUNT LANDRINOF.

BY FRED WHISHAW.

COftRIGHt 189 ft a* THE AMERICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION.

[continued.] Away I scudded, running on my toes, noiselessly—l had put on a pair of tennis shoes on purpose, for I wished to do my best for poor Borofsky this time. It was nearly dark and a cold evening, very different from an English November evening There had been a hard frost for a week, and the Neva was covered with rough pack ice. In a day or two the restrictions against crossing the ice world would be removed, and roads would he formed over Neva’s bosom in every direction that a short cut to any conceivable spot would justify. My man had not run far. I saw him pass beneath a lamp 80 yards in front of me, walking quickly. He did not turn to go over the palace bridge, though he appeared to be about to do so and changed his mind. Could he have seen Borofsky ? I did, at any rate, and whispered to him as I passed: “It’s all right, Borofsky,” I said. “Leave this hunt to me; I’m blood hot 1” Then I continued down the quay, past the admiralty and straight for the English quay and the senate. There were very few people about. The student hastened along, half running, halt walking, aDd I after him, about 30 yards away, going noiselessly. Suddenly he turned and saw me, or ' saw, at any rate, that he was followed. He did not know me by sight. Observ-1 ing this, the student spurted, going a very fair pace for a Russian, but I easily held my own. He turned and observed that he had gained nothing upon me and, like a wise man, slowed down. As for me, I did not care whether he liked to be followed or not or what he thought about it. I intended to follow him to the end. I therefore made no at- 1 tempt to conceal my intention, but just went straight od. I could see that the poor fellow was growing very anxious, i He did not like it. He ran into the Admiralty square and dodged round the Great Peter statue and into the Galernaya, where there were more people and a better chance of giving me the slip, but when he turned to see I was still behind him. Up the street he ran, or half ran, I after him and almost at his heels, for I was not going to be shaken off in the crowd, and so we reached the top, at the Nicholas palace, close to the great stone bridge of the same name, and* over this bridge he made as though he would go. But suddenly another idea struck him. He turned aside from the bridge and, running quickly down the steps that lead to the water, climbed the “danger” obstruction and got upon the ice with the evident intention of shaking me off by attempting the dangerous and forbidden enterprise of crossing the Neva before the ice had been pronounced safe. I confess I did not like it. It was too cold and too dark for a bath. There was no particular reason for shadowing this unfortunate little wretch all night, until in desperation he shoujd dart into the squalid hole he called his home. What did his address matter to us? I felt that I was doing a foolish thing. Yet I felt also that I must follow. Not because I expected to gain anything by it, but because the English blood in me was of the real old obstinate, bulldog vintage, I suppose, and I must stick to a thing once undertaken until I had carried it through. So I followed with scarcely an instant’s hesitatidh, and—well, sometimes the things which appear to be the most foolish* turn out to be the wisest. I followed—risking my life—which was so unspeakably valuable to my dear mother, without once reflecting upon that domestic circumstance—and followed in the wisdom of utter fooliehness, and— Away scudded my little will o’ the wisp, taking a diagonal line in the direction of the mining corps, which is a good half mile or more from the bridge on the other side, and away scudded I after him. I could hear him run and pant in front of me, though it was so dark out here in midriver that I could not see him. We had run. I should think, some 200 or 800 yards over the roughest possible ice that twisted one’s ankles and “barked” one’s shins at every other step when suddenly there was a scream, followed instantly by a splash and an agoniked cry for help.

CHAPTER XVIII. 1 BESCUB OF THE STUDENT. My heart sank. I knew in an instant that I was in for an adventure, a wet and cold one probably, and perhaps a very dangerous one. I did not feel heroie. I don’t think I am made that way, and I honestly avow that if I bad thought this wretched student fellow would be sure to get himself out of the water without assistance froqjf me I should gladly have turned at this emergency and gone quietly home. v , But unfortunately, or fortunately, my conscience would not hear of it for a moment. “The little rascal will go under the ice in a minute,” it said, “unless you go and pick him out of danger.” I knew my conscience was perfectly correct. One’s conscience is about the onlv thins in this world that is infalli-

• bleT Conscience is always right and almost always disagreeable and unpleasant. If we listen to it—as we must in order to preserve that peace of mind without which life is not worth living—if we listen to its whisperings, we are obliged, at times, to do very revolting things and to leave undone many pleasant ones. On this occasion I felt bound to leave untasted the pleasure of sneaking home, dry and safe, and to undertake the revolting duty of risking my life in order to save this little wretch, now yelling for help, from the watery grave that yawned for him. It was very unpleasant, and I hated doing it, therefore, sarcastic reader, do not imagine that in describing my action, as I must now do, I desire to pass as in the slightest degree heroic. I do not. I have confessed that I would rather have gone home. What I did I was obliged to do, whether I liked it or no, and it was certainly “no.”

The little student had, I found, run straight into a hole in the ice. There were plenty of such holes, for the bosom of the river had not frozen over, be it remembered. The ice had floated down stream from Lake Ladoga and, becoming choked in the bends and bridges of the river, had packed and remained fixed. This is how the Neva becomes closed every year, for if the river had to wait for the frost to cover it from bank to bank before retiring from ken for its winter’s rest, so strong is the current (I who write, being a rowing man, know that current full well) that many weeks and perhaps months would elapse before the ice roof, creeping from bank to bank toward the center of the stream, could meet in the middle and span the whole rushing river. But the pack ice has to fit in as best it can; the round pieces have to accommodate themselves into square holes, and the square ones into circular spaces; hence, there are many gaps for the first few days, and into one of these my little student had run. It was fortunate indeed for him that he was not instantly sucked under the ice and helplessly drowned. Many poor wretches have come to no less sad an end by attempting to cross the Neva too early in autumn or too late in spring. They have splashed suddenly into water. There has been, it may be, one shrill cry for help, and they have disappeared, no more to be seen or heard of in this world. But my little rascal, when I rushed up, was clinging like grim death to the edge of the ice, his nails dug into the snow, his stomach and chest tightly pressed against the rough ice margin, and his legs no doubt already drawn by the current well beneath the slippery surface which would afford his feet no hold or resistance. Obviously he must let go in a minute or two. The current was tugging at him “for all it was

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wortn," ana as a pulling force it was worth a good deal. “Help! Hold me, for God’s sake! I can’t hang on another second 1” he gasped. I ran round to his end of the hole, which was about eight feet long by four or five wide. There I secured the best foothold I could get, and then, bending, seized my man by the collar of his shirt, digging my fingers well down under his chin. When I felt I had him tight, I bade him try to struggle out. “I can’t, I can’t 1” he gurgled. I suppose I was half strangling him. “My legs are right away under the ice. I can’t get them back. I have no power. Save me, for God’s sake, whoever you are! I never did you harm!” “I am trying to save you,” I said. I,pulled at him. It must have been a choky process for the poor fellow. But I could not move him. “Let go with .your hands and I’ll pull you along the edge up stream,” I said. “Don’t lose your head. It will be all right I won’t let you go!” “No, no! I can’t, I daren’t!” he gasped. “If I lose my hold on the ice, the current will suck me away in an instant. Hold on tight till some one comes!” “No one will come,” I said. “If you keep your head and let me pull ypu along quietly, you may be saved. Let go with your hands, I tell you.” “I won’t!” he screamed. “It’s my only chance. Oh, the cold of it! Get a good foothold and pull.” “Let go, you fool!” I said angrily. “I can’t move you this way, and the

"Help! Hold me! I can’t hang on another second!”

strain of holding you will weary me before long. Let go with your hands!” But the fellow screamed and refused. I came closer to the edge and got my hand farther round toward the back of his neck. Then I pulled at him, trying to force him to let go and float, so that j I might tow him sideways to the edga He would not loose his frenzied grip, however. Then I forced the game. I purposely stepped upon one of his hands, ana] with a yell and a curse he let go. | Quickly I pulled him backward and along. The plan succeeded ‘admirably? 1 got him sideways against the aide of the ice, higher tip stream, and bitched his face and left shoulder uppn. tbe edge. But the frightened fool spiled my game by losing his head and struggling to lay held of something for himself. Unfortunately the thing his hands first met and clutched was my left leg. He seized it and tugged. Heaven knows what be hoped to gain by the suicidal action. What he actually did was to cause me to slip and lose my balance. I fell close to the edge of the ice, and the ' fellow instantly clawed me and pulled me into the water. By the mercy of Providence I kicked myself free of him as I slipped iijto my icy bath or he would have pujled me down beneath the surface, and we should have died together, fighting madly for a moment or two beneath the ice. j I don’t think I was in the water five \ seconds; I never even allowed myself to float down stream to the lower end] of the bole. As I touched water I struck out upward and, seizing the' rough edge of the ice, swung my chest well out of the water and lay thus a second half in and half out. The curj rent swept my legs up behind me and rather assisted me to make good my es- ■ cape. In another second I lay full length on the ice. half dead wtih. cold,

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' jJir'iT' IP" ifTTiriijifcm, vHil “THEY COME AAD GO LIKE CLOUDS UPON A SUMMER SKY: The Advantage of Permanency. Since the SINGER sewing-machine was first invented, more than four hundred different makes of sewing-machine have come and gone. Now it is a well known fact tha sewing-machines wear out in parts; if such parts cannot be duplicated, the whole machine is no longer of any value to its owner. « All SINGER parts are absolutely Interchangeable. Exact duplicates of each anq every part are always and instantly obtainable at SINGER salesrooms in every city in the World; this makes the SINGER everlasting. WHAT A CONTRAST WITH THE ANONYMOUS MAOHINES SOLD BY IRRESPONSIBLE DEALERS . Many a woman has experienced the annoying loss of some small part from one ol these machines and has then found that the dealer had no duplicate or that the manufactu' rers had gone out of business and she must get out of her dilemma as best she could. HALF-A-CENTURY’S PRODUCT. During the last half-century nearly Seventeen Million SINGER Sewing-Machine: have been made and sold. This tremendous product would make one gigantic machint head that would reach from the SINGER factory at Elizabeth, N. J., to the factory a Kilbowie, Scotland. Its base would be about three thousand miles long and twelve hundrec miles wide. The top of its needle-bar would be fifteen hundred miles above the earth. SOLD ON INSTALMENTS. OLD MACHINES EXCHANOED. The Singer Manufacturing Co. SELLINO ONC MILLION MACHINES ANNUALLY.

but safe and grateful. Then I thought of the student and looked round over my shoulder as I struggled to my feet. He had gone, I doubted not, beneath the ice and was by this time 50 yards away, bobbing his poor head against the pitiless ice roof that kept him from life and hope —drowning fast, perhaps already dead. But, to my surprise, I saw that he still clu3g, exactly as he had clung at first, before my attempt to rescue him, to the farther edge of the ice. There he clung and gasped, trying to yell, but making very little noise, for his head had been under, I suppose, and he was half choking with the water. My mind was quickly made up. I knew what I should do now. I had no intention of being pulled into the water a second .time. I might not be quite so fortunate as to kick myself free from the frenzied little fool again. I ran round to his end. He saw me. “Save me, save me!” he gasped. I laid hold of him by the collar as before, using my right hand, as the stronger: then with the left I dealt htih

as hVrd’ a blow on the ear as my doubled fist could deal in this awkward position. It proved hard enough for my purpose. The poor fellow gave a kind of bnort. His bands loosed their grip of the ice, his body floated backward and cartie unresistingly along in obedience to, my tugs. He lay like a log, and like a log I dragged him out and stretched him on the dry ice—spfe, half drowned, half stunned and more than half frozen, but safe, little as he deserved his safety. [TO BE COWTINtrED.] ?

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