Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 21, Number 65, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1900 — Page 2

The Swamp Secret

'Copyright. 18!M, by Robert Bonner's Sons. CHAPTER XVlll.—(Continued.) Mr. Wayne's singing school would close on Thursday evening. On Friday the camp meeting would begin. The singing teacher was urged to stay And “help with the surgin' " on Sunday, and he very kindly consented to do sb. Mrs. Boone strongly urged Nannie to attend singing school on the last two nights of its session, and learn the hymns that were being practiced for use on rhe following Sabbath. But Nannie was stubborn, and absolutely refused to.go. “I couldn’t take an interest in it on Dick's account." she said. "And. then I don’t want to see Mr. Wayne. 1 wish I might never set eyes on him again. He’s insulted me. and I haven’t spoken to him since, and 1 don’t intend to. Iles a fine person to lead the singing at a camp meeting, isn’t he?"--——-Nannie’s eves blazed indignanll y. “Wall, es he hain’t used ye flgin. t" • can’t say's I blame ye for not hat in -nothin' tu du with him." said her mother. “I du hope. Nancy"—Mrs. Boone ' always called her Nancy when she wished to be very Impressive—"l du hope n pray, Nancy, that you'll turn to the Lord an' experience his grace an’ pard nin love in this camp meetin'. An' I hope n. ptay all the young folks will. 1 kind o feel’s es they would, an' that we re goin tu hev a blessid good season.’ ‘ But Nannie's thoughts were more about the bread she was getting ready to carry to Dick that night than they were about the Bread of Life, and it is doubtful if she heard very much of what her mother ■■was saying. CHAPTER XIX. It seemed to be’ the general opinion,that -since Dick's warning of the fate in store for him and all the other horse thieves, if caught, horse stealing was at an end .in Brownsville. Consequently, a feeling of comparative -security took possession ofe the settlers. Most of them believed that Dick had belonged to a gang, if he had not been the leader of it. ami that his narrow es- • cape from the fate meted out to horse 'thieves had frightened him out of tjie country. That it was well with him yet, Nannie knew, for the supply of daily bread which -she deposited in the hollow tree disappeared as regularly as it was placed there. The camp meeting opened with a great promise of success. The presiding elder said he felt "as es there was goin’ to be a reg'lar ol'-fasfhi'ned pour-down o' the sperrit, an* a stirrin' up o' dry bones," whereupon all the brothers and sisters in Israel shouted a vigorous "Amen" in concert. There was a goodly attendance from “down below.” Never before hrfd so .many strapge faces been seen in Brownsville. It began, as I have said, on Friday. Tfie first day got it only fairly under headway. On the second day the excitement, without which no camp meeting was considered a success in those days, began. * Before night it had taken possession of most of those who were, or had been, members of one church or another. What the nature of the excitement was I shall not undertake to say. It was something which few could, or did, resist, and the anxious seat was crowded with penitents. At night, after the great tires were lighted, the scene was one a Rembrandt would have delighted in, with its vivid 'Contrasts of light and shade. The ruddy .flames leaped up and lit the forest lurid-

ly for rods away, amOtig ’he great tree trunks. Overhead the leaves shone like silver in the strong light thrown upon ihem from below. The rapt, eager faces ■of men and women stood out with startling distinctness against a background of shadow. They were all turned toward the stand, where two ministers exhorted and prayed, alternately, with great fervor and a goodly exhibition of lung power. Devout brothers and sisters said “Amen, - ’ regardless of appropriate time ■or place.' Soul-stirring old Methodist hymns were sung hymns which have rung down the years like bugle calls, and whose echoes yet linger on our frontiers as the star of the empire moves westward. w Rhoda Stevens sat near Mr. Wayne. I have made mention of the sickness j of her brother. Samanthy’s hemlock sweat had failed to produce the desjred ■effect. As Rhoda was entirely unused to caring for sick persons, an aunt had been ■sent for from "down below." to take charge of the sick Is.y. She had concluded, after hearing of the camp meet-, ing, to remain in Brownsville until it was over, ami. in consequence of her presence, in the Stevens household, the visits of the singing teacher, had been infrequent of late, for he did not care to go there very much while propriety, in the shape of a maiden aunt, was eon-, stantly regarding him with a suspicious eye. It was perhaps a most fortunate thing for Rhoda that her aunt was needed there. Ignorant of th" ways of the world, 4ind with confidence in the honesty of Wayne’s intentions, the intliienee he had established over her might very likely have been exerted for bad. Such no doqbt would .ha ve been the eafte had circumstances been other than they were, Rhoda been left unprotected. She. in'’her innocence, could not understand Ifow it was possible for a man to be bad while he appeared so entirely the opposite, and she wondered why he so abruptly ceased his visits after her aunt came. Had she known the truth, she ■would have known that he felt afraid of her nttnt'a sharp eyes. They were eyes that could see beyond such a mask as ■that which he wore. On that Saturday evening, nt camp ’meeting, he looked around from the bench -on which he was sitting and met Rhoda's •eye*. He smiled, and presently came and •at down beside her. “Are you here alone?" he asked. “No, Aunt Sarah came with me," answered Rhoda. “She’s sitting over there with Mrs. Porter.” ' “I hope she’ll stay there, so that 1 can have a chance to talk with you, without sealing that she's listening to every word,” said Wayne. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a chance.”

"I haven't seen much of you since Toni was sick," said Rhoda. "I hope you weren’t afraid of catching the fever?” "No, but I was afraid of catching something from that aunt of yours,” he answered "I don’t think she likes me very much. At least it struck me that way the first time I canie to see you after she took up her hibatation in your family. And, then, too, I’ve been very busy.” Rhoda looked at him a little sharply when he said that, for she knew better. > "You look as if you did not believe me,” he said. "Do I?' Well, perhaps I don’t.” Rhoda was inclined to resent his poor excuse, for it indicated that he thought any explanation would satisfy her. And. titan. she had begun to have some doubts about him. Samanthy had exerted an influence against him. and when Samanthy "didn-’t like-a- body, she didn't, an’ that was all there was, to it,” according to her own statement, and s'ne had left no stone unturned in her effort to make a point against Wffyne. She had been 'influenced by two motives: -She did not like Wayne, and she did like Rhoda. "Yes. yoti look somewhat incredulous," he said. "Is'it necessary for me to tell you all I have been doing to prove to you that I have beenbpsy?” “Oh, you needn’t put yourself to that trouble,” said Rhoda, with a simulation of indifference. She wasn’t going to let him flatter himself that she cared very much if he did not come to see her. Just then some one called him away for a moment. It was Bill Green. When their consultation was ended, they stood and chatted together for a moment. Then Rhoda heard Bill say: “Hain’t b’en havin' a tiff with Rhody hev ye? Seern’s es she looked kind o riled up about suthin’ or uther.” "I think she’’doesn’t like it very well because I haven't been to see her lately,” answered Wayne, with a laugh that brought the angry color to Rhoda's face. "I did go there quite,often, as perhaps you know; but I saw the girl was inclined to take everything in dead earnest, and I've rather fought shy of her since. A nice sort of a girl to help one pass away time when it hangs heavy. I wonder you don't lay siege to her heart, Green. She’d make you a charming wife.” Wayne had no idea that Rhoda could hear what he was saying. But she heard every word of it, and her.ny.es fairly blazed with an’ger under cover of her sunbonnet. "Oh, you miserable wretch''.-” she said under her breath. “I despise you! 1 hate you! I wish I could make you feel how much contempt I have for you! To talk like that about me to such a thing as Bill Green! Oh, you puppy!”. Mere printed words fail to express the intensity of wrath that was concentrated in Rhoda’s tone. Girls with a nature like hers can hate quije as thoroughly as they can do anything else. In much less time than if has taken io tell it her liking for Wayne had changed to hatred and repugnance. She saw now that what Dick had told her was true. There could be no mistake, no doubt, for she had the truth from Wayne’s own lips. He had made her his dupe. He had made a plaything, a fool, of her. "If I ever get a chance to pay you back, I’ll do it!” she said, with a flashing glance of scorn at him. And she meant I it.

The chance was nearer at hand than ; she dreamed of. When Wayne eamtt-back to the seat he had vacated, from his interview with Bill Green, she turned her back upon him squarely, and ignored every attempt of his at conversation with lofty but silent much to his vexation, and consequently to her delight. i Some new arrivals necessitated a change of seat. This brought Rhoda next to Samanthy and Nannie. “You don't like Mr. Wayne as well as you used to, do you?" she whispered to Nannie. Rhoda was never given to beating about the. bush."1 don’t like him very well,” answered Nannie, cautiously. Of late she and Rhoda had not beert I very intiniijfe—rather cool to each other, in fact—-and she was at a loss to under- [ stand what Rhoda's tactics were; there- | fore she thought it best to be rather reserved in her communications until her object in starting such a conversation became clear. "1 just hate him!" said Rhoda. "1 never saw any one who looked meaner to me than he does." "I'm glad of it,” said Nannie, suddenly waxing cordial. "I don’t believe you hate him any worse than I do!” Thus it was that hatred—a feeling that should not have been tolerated at camp meeting—made better friends of these two girls than they had been for some time before. CHAPTER NX. Mr. Boone had slept in the barn every’ night since Deacon Snyder’s horses were stolen. He was afraid the horse thieves would be after Dolly and Nell. He attended, the day services of the bamp meeting on Friday and Saturday, and Saturday evening found him all on tire with religious enthusiasm. But he hesitated somewhat about attending the evening service. He wanted to go, but he felt that some one ought to remain at home. There was no telling what might happen if the place were left alone. But ho finally cofncluded to go. Samanthy went over to Mr. Boone’s, to accompany Nannie to .the grove. At first Nannie had declared that she wasn’t going to attend the camp meeting. It hardly seemed right for her to be enjoying herself, or, at least trying to do so, while poor Dick was a fugitive and a wanderer on the face of the earth. "Good Ixtrd!” argued Samanthy, with good, hard common, sense. "Your stayin’ tu hum, mopin’ an’ cryfn’, hain’t a-goin’ tu make it any better fer him, is it? He’d ruther y’d git along with yer trouble as easy’s possible. I know him well enough fer that. Git yer bunnit an’ le’s be goin’.” They went by the way of the hollow tree, and Nannie deposited there her daily loaf, adding a great wedge of her

mother’.s camp meeting cake and a halfdozen doughnuts of her own manufacture. “They’ll taste good to him, 1 hope, poor fellow,” she said penitently. “Course they will,” said Samanthy. “ ‘Poor feller,’ indeed! Sh’d think he'd git the r.’umatiz sleepin’ out these awful damp nights. . I’ve felt ’em ail day jest from bein’ out to meetin’ las’ night. 1 don't s’pose I’d orter be out to-night. But, land! I don’t see how I c’d stay tu hum with ev’rybody else goin’; so I’ve took my chance o’ gittin’ laid up. 1 got out the. arnicky bottle afore I started, so’s to hev handy when I git hum; an’ niebbe es I rub it in well; I’ll feel aH right to-raorrer.” “Lots of nights I efin’t sleep, just for thinking of poor Dick," said Nannie, tears coming into her eyes. Iler remorseful conscience made her thoughts of Dickvery tender ones just now. The forest resounded with the shouts of newly awakened souls, the singing of devout attendants, who hoped by their songs to cheer on those who were wavering between good Land evil, and the lusty exhortations of the ministers. One could hear the camp meeting fart hey than one could see it. "I s’pose it’s all right." said Samanthy, in a tone that meant that she thought it all wrong. "But fer my part I don't b’leeve in hollerin' an' shoutin’. I'm a reg'lar hard-shell Baptis’; all my folks was; an’ we never took no stock in sanctification an' gittin’ the power an’ the high mount o’ holiness an’ sich, as the Methodis’ folks Jell about. I don’t fellership it myself, an' none of our folks could. Sprinklin', tu! I sh'd feel’s es I wa’n't niore’n half converted es 1 didn’t git right'down intu the water. Ye needn't tell me! It don't stan' .tu reason, that a body can be immersed by throwin' a few drops o’ water on him; an' the Bible says jest as plain as can be that emmercioh’s right, an’ I go by what that says more’n I do by man’s sayin’ so. When I go in fer anything, I b’leeve in bein’ thurrer, an.’ sprinklin'- ain’t thurrer enough to suit me.” They passed on to the edge of the grounds and observed the congregation. Deacon Snyder was" in the middle of a most powerful exhortation to a group of.. young men, who were listening with great interest, apparently, and a look on their faces that gave good grounds for the belief that they might be penitent before the exhortation was over. Ln another part of the grounds old Mrs. Greenjw.as.„singing that quaint old piece of religious’doggerel which most persons who have attended an old-fashioned camp meeting, or have known an old-time revival, must remember: "Oh, the sisters want religion! The brothers want religion! We’s got to have religion—- • Glory to the Lamb!”

The zeal with which she was singing it rendered her wholly oblivious of all things earthly, but it could not prevent her from being a very comical figure as she swayed to aud fro, her hands clasped, her eyes closed, and her old poke bonnet tipped over on her shoulders, and hanging by its strings, making the worldly minded and irreverent think of a small mortar aimed skyward, ready to fire off the good old lady’s head at the moon. Bill Green was among the penitents, kneeling at the anxious seat. The minister had said some things that frightened his cowardly heart, because they told the truth about him, aud he could not, at such a time as this* deny it, and the excitement of the occasion had a contagion in it which natures like'his are •very susceptible and it had fastened upon him, and here he was, among the "seekers,” groaning and writhing as if the devil hated to let go his hold upon him.

So the struggle between good and evil went on to the accompaniment of strange sights and sounds which made the scene *eem fantastic and unreal enough, to the looker-on who took no active part in it, to be a fragment from a dream. “Dear sus a day!” cried Samanthy, in the middle of a hymn, greatly to the surprise of Nannie, who felt sure from the nature and the time of the ejaculation that her companion was about to “get the power.” “O, my day s—“What’s the matter?” asked Nannie. Samanthy answered with a smothered groan, ,for she had enveloped the lower part of her face in a shawl. "Are you getting the power?” asked Nannie. ‘ “Wuss'n that,” answered Samanthy, in a sepulchral tone, from the depths of her shawl. "It's the jumpin’ toothache. Oh, Lord! When it jumps, I can’t keep my mouth shet. Oh! Oh!” "Hadn’t we better go home?” asked Nannie. "It will be likely to keep on aching if we stay out in this damp air.” "Yes, I reckon we’d better,” said Samanthy. "Oh, my goodness!” with a frantic grab at her jaw, as the refractorytooth gave another excruciating twinge of pain. "Sister Samant’y, be you a'-groanin’ under the strivin's o’ the sporrip” asked Deacon Snyder’s wife, seeing Samanthy’s convulsed face, and hearing her groan of anguish. “Es it is a pleadin’ an’ a intercedin' ” “ ’Tain't,” answered Samanthy, concisely and sharply. "It’s the toothache, an' I’m a Baptis’, Mis' Snyder, an’ don’t b’leeve in the power, an’ sprinklin’, ’n’ sich things;” and with this general declaration of non-belief, she broke loose from the detaining clasp of Mrs. Snyder’s hand, and she and Nannie left the grounds. As they passed the minister's stand Wayne was just striking up that old recruiting hymn of the grand old Methodist army: “Am I a soldier of the Cross, A follower of the Lamb?” “Sit'd a ’nough sight sooner think he was a stealer of a hoss,” said Samanthy, with a grim and irreverent humor. Her unexpected and accidental rhyme set her to chuckling, in the midst of which mirthful demonstration her* tooth gave a twinge outdoing all former efforts in that line, and bringing the tears to her eyes. "Sarvcs me right fer sayin’ foolish things on a solium time,” she groaned, and they'passed the sitiger without his seeing them, and set off homeward. CHAPTER XXL They walked home in silence. Samanthy whs too busy with her (efforts to keep the cool night air from her tooth to be willing to attempt a conversation. “Hev to go in the back way,” she mumbled, when they reached the house. “Mr. Porter’s got the key to the frontdoor padlock, an’ 1 took the one b’longin’ to the back one." In this way it happened that they did

not go aioand to the side of the houss fronting the barn; therefore they were not sepn by any one who might have been there at that time. “Now. tell me what I can do for yot;,” . said Nannie as soon as they were in the house. Samanthy had dropped into a chair and was swaying to and fro with her hands at her jaw, groaning dismally; . "Hops—git a bag o’, hops—an’ pour b’ilin’ hot water, on ’em,” she directed, spasmodically. "On top shelf —but'ry.* Dear sus a me! Wish Mr. Porter was here—l’d hev him yank it out with the bullet mol's. Oh, my goodness!” Nannie went into the pantry, and was preparing to climb on an old barrel, in order to get at the top shelf where the herbs for winter use were stored away, when she heard a sound that ,seemed like the creaking of a door on wooden hinges. She stooped down and peered out of the window on the side toward the barn, from which direction the sound had seemed to come. A cry of surprise escaped her. ’ The barn door was open! (To be continued.)

Brave Children.

Probably one of the youngest heroes on record is Leonard Webber,' aged 5 years, who has just received a certificate of honor from the Royal Humane -Society for saving his 3-year-okl brother from drowning. The Philadelphia Tinies tells the story. The children were playing with other boys bn the edge of a pond. when the younger Webber fell into the water. The others, frightened; took to their heels, but Leonard, without the slightest hesitation, plunged in and rescued his brother. Quite as remarkable was a case which comes from a remote corner Russia, where a boy of nine ycayefactually had the temerity tpxfackle a great, gaunt wolf assailed a tiny playmate asleep. * The rescjjjM-'seized an axe that had been left by a woodman, and gave Jjftttle to the wolf, which, finding itself thus attacked, promptly scuttled off to the wood. Russia has been the scene of much youthful heroism. Some years ago, while a peasant woman was sitting with her little daughter, aged about eight years, at supper, the curtains which divided the living-room in which they sat from the adjoining bed-room caught fire through the explosion of an ail lamp. The mother sat still, not knowing what to do, but her daughter, child as she was, possessed more presence of mind. Seizing a knife, she climbed upon a chair, cut down the blazing curtains. and then smothered the flames with the hearth-rug. In two minutes the fire, which might have developed into veritable conflagration, was extinguished.

Bound te Win.

The late Lord Glenelg was fond of telling the following story of Mr. Labouchere, father of the. first Lord Taunton, as illustrative of the enterprise necessary to the succqgg of the poor but clever yoitng man: As a young man Labouchere was employed in the great mercantile house of Hope. When it came time to marry, having discreetly made his own choice of the he applied to Sir Francis Baring for leave to pay his addresses to his daughter. Sir Francis demurred, as Labouchere, though a rising young man, had no fortune. “But if Hope takes me into partnership?” said Labouchere. “Oh, yes, if Hope takes you into partnership.” Labouchere then went to Hope, and intimated his wish for this arrangement. Hope in his turn demurred. “But if I marry Baring’s daughter?” said Labouchere. “Oh, if you marry Baring's daughter- ’’ Tins was enough for Labouchere. He concluded his wooing by marrying Baring’s daughter, whereupon he became a partner in Hope’s.

Just Mentioned It.

“I remember,” said the commercial traveler, “being in a little town in Western Pennsylvania about 200 miles from nowhere, and sitting in the little grocery store, when a tall native shambled in, and. asking for a pint of cider, drank it and then sat down on a barrel and began to smoke. Pretty soon he said, ‘Zeke,’ addressing the proprietor, ‘is there any one here rode up on a hoss?’

“Zeke looked over the company carefully. ‘Why, yes,’ he said. ‘Seth Perkins, over there In the corner, rode up on a hoss, didn’t you. Seth?' ‘Why, yes,’ said Seth, ‘I rode up on a hoss, what of It?’ “ ‘Oh, nothin',’ said the newcomer, ‘only just as I came in I see a hoss break away from the hitching post and gallop down the road, and I thought I’d mention it.’ ’’—New York Mail and Express.

Earrings for Cattle.

The Belgian Director General of Agglctriture has issued a regulation that all animals of the bovine species are to wear earrings as soon as they have attained the age of three months. Breeders are obliged to keep an exact account of the animals raised by them, and the ring, on which is engraved a number,, is fastened in the animal’s ear to prevent the substitution of one animal for another.

Knowledge of Game Not Required.

Carrie—Oh, you ought to join our golf club. We have such jolly times. Minnie—But I don't know hoW to play. Carrie—Oh, we never play in our club. That’s the best of it, yoii know.—Boston Transcript The world may owe a man a living, but he has to collect it on the installment plan. It sometimes happens that a homely woman doubts the accuracy of mirror*.

ECLIPSE OF THE SUN.

PHENOMENON OCCURS MAY 28, AND WILL BE TOTAL. In the Path of Totality the Orb of Day Will Be Obscured for Nearly Two Minutes —The Event Is Attracting World-Wide Attention. The forthcoming total eclipse of the sun, on May 28, is attracting world-wide attention, and astronomers everywhere have long been making preparations for observing and photographing the phenomenon. Besides making the usual time observations, interest Largely centers in photographing the corona, the coronal streamers, the spectra of the chromosphere, and particularly the celebrated flash spectrum appearing both at beginning and end of totality. Fortunately for us, it will be possible to witness the phenomenon from many sections of the United States. On the occasion of the last eclijSse scientists who desired to study the sun during the brief period of totality hurried to western India, and many of them were successful in obtaining excellent photographs of the great, event. On May 28. the circular shadojy>rf-TEe” moon cast by the sun uponth<earth, and about eighty miles in djaffieter, will come sweeping across thjx'American continent from New OrleanZvo Cape Henry. Along the center of fem- traveled by'this swiftly moviflg shadow the sun will be’ completelyyuidden for a period of about two minutes. More than forty miles away, either side of the track the eclipj>e will be partial, not total. To wifedess this astronomical marvel it will

POSITION OF THE PLANETS.

since an eclipse has occurred under circumstances so favorable to American astronomers, it will undoubtedly be witnessed by thousands of students who have felt regret that previous exhibitions have occurred at distances so great as to prevent them frdtai witnessing the events. An eclipse of the sun that will be visible to us can occur only when the moon is new. At that time she passes exactly between us and the sun. If an eclipse should happen when she was at her least distance from us, say 222,000 miles away, the apex of the shadow would pass over our heads at a distance of many thousands of miles. In the first instance the eclipse will be total along the path made by the falling shadow, lu the second instance the eclipse will be annular, as the moon will be so diminished that at no time will she be able to completely obscure the sun. I’rof. Langley, who is an authority upon sun eclipses, is enthusiastic in anticipation of the exhibition that'is to be given next May. "Such eclipses,’ he says, "are impressive and awful to the last degree and must be seen to be appreciated. A total eclipse of the sun is worth a journey round the world to behold, and repetition does not dull the interest.” According to the calculations of Prof. Lumsden, the round black shadow of the moon, like a great arm, will sweep in out pf space some time after sunrise oh the morning of May 28. This gigantic arm will come into contact with the earth somewhere near the Revilla Gigedo islands in the Pacific ocean. With tremendous velocity the shadow will rush toward the mainland and will enter Mexico, near Corrientes, at a speed of more than 100 miles a minute. In eight minutes it will have crossed the Rocky mountains, and by 7:30 central or 8:30 eastern time it will have crossed the gulf and entered Mexico. Then on it will pass, over its selected path, until it is lost again in space. The period of totality of the eclipse va-’ ries at different points along the track. At the Rocky monntaihs the spectacle will last but about Zuirty seconds, and at New Orleans the period will have been lengthened thirty-seven seconds. At Union Point, Green County, Georgia, the center of the pnth.for the United States, the time of totality will be ninety-two seconds, while those who are at the Atlantic coast, just south of the city of Norfolk, will be able to continue their observatiqps for 105 seconds. While the occasion will be a most interesting one to all who are able to witness the phenomenon to astronomers the event will be of the utmost importance, as there are several questions that they hope to be able to answer after they have made their neXt observations. One of the most important problems relates to the composition anil arrangement of the various layers of vapor and dust that envelope the sun as with an atmosphere. Another relates to the existence and position of what is sometimes called the "reversing layer.”

Municipal Mutters.

The City of Mexico has 411 artesian wells. Philadelphia lias appropriated $750,000 for new bridges. Brooklyn has 31.087 apartment house* and 500,000 'tenement house dwellers. It is estimated that gamblers in New Y’ork have been paying over $2,000,00t' a year for "protection.” An agent of the New York State civil service board has been sent to Syracuse to investigate the municipal civil jervics comniiwiCP.

That Tired Feeling ‘ Just as surely indicates that the blood is lacking in vitality and the elements of health as does the most obstinate humor that the vital fluid is full of impurities. Hood’s Sarsaparilla cures that tired feeling by enriching and vitalizing the blood, creating a . good appetite and invigorating every organ of the body. = Hood’s Sarsaparilla “I, had that tired feeling all the time. Was as tired in the morning when I rose was when 1 went to bed.- I took four bottles of Hood’s Sarsaparilla and it made me feel like a new man. I could work hard and not feel tired,” A. F. Charter, Creston, lowa. * Hood’s Sarsa pagiMsrtSsoidJiy alldrug-_^gjster-ftCT“Hood’sAnd only Hood’s.

Family Life a Bore.

r uiniiy Hie oores me moaern American girl,” writes “An'American Mother,” in the Ladies’ Home Journal. “She boasts that she has climbed to higher levels. She has done with needles, pots and pans, and—-cradles. The world is her field of action; it is waiting for her; its crops are white unto the harvest If she has money She usually begins to reap by going to Europe. She is there to-day by the thousands and tens of thousands. If the modern girl marries, her life is but little altered. She drifts here and there like rags of seaweed on the heaving waves. She does not want a home unless she has money enough to have two or three, in which, with a corps of servants and an English housekeeperin command, she ean have house parties the year ipund. If she have money she lives in a huge hotel; if poor, in a cheap boarding house. Her children are brought up on the stairs. There is not much of the cachet of the altar about that home for them. Presently she. too, goes abroad. She tells her friends that she is on the verge of nerve prostration, which is usually. true, and that Europe is the only chance of cure, which is not true. Her husband stays at home to drudge for the money which she spends.”

A Gypsy Mother’s Anguish.

Rev. Cyrus Townsend Brady relates an experience as "A Missionary in the Great West,” in the pidies’ Home Journal, at the funeral of a gypsy baby. After the burial service there were several children presented for baptism, and in response to his inquiry, “Is there anything more?” the mother of the dead baby came forward with the little body which she had lifted from its coffin clasped in her arms. "Won’t you baptise this one?” she asked. “I gently told her that I could not baptize the dead, that it was neither necessary nor i;ight, but she would not be convinced,” relates the missionary. “She begged and implored, and at last fell on her knees before me, and held up in front of me the still, tiny, little white bundle of what had been humanity, and agonizingly besought me, in. the terrified accCftts of guilt and despair, to perform the—to it—useless service. I ex : plained the situation to her as well as a young man could, told her the baby was all right, and that even though she had fa He'd In her duty God would certainly accept her evident contrition. Friends took the baby away at last and raised her up.”

From the Cow.

Mrs. Morey, of Coney Island, New York, peddles milk, but she doesn’t keep a horse and wagon. Instead of that she drives her cow around to the houses of her customers and while they wait Mrs. Morey says, “So, Boss!” to the sleek-looking cow, and proceeds to milk the desired quantity. In this way each customer is assured that the milk received is fresh and free from adulteration. This custom of leading the cow from door to door was in common practice in this country many, many years ago, and In parts of Europe the milch cows or goats are still made to serve In the place of the modern milk wagon.

Don’t Answer Impertinent Questions

Impertinent questions are to be met with firm and dignified politeness. Any question about another’s personal affairs,’about the price of one’s clothing, the amount of one’s earnings, the reasons one has for entirely private tonduet, is Impertinent. Would I answer such questions? Not at all. Usually, by a little tact, one can settle such questioners'. If there Is no other way, I counsel a plain but courteous sincerity—a simple refusal to answer. One may just say: "Pardon me, I prefer not to give any Information whatever on this matter.”--Lad|es’ Home Journal.

A Proof of Education.

"Bay, Weary, I didn’t know Wigsby Walkover wuz a college man.” “Is lie? What makes you think. It, /" Llmpy?" “ ’Coz he’s chalked a motter over de door of de old barn where de boys all sleeps.” “An’ wot Is It?” “ ‘Abandpn soap all yees dat comes Inside.’ ’’—Cleveland Plain Dealer.

That Is All.

“Who defrays the expenses of the government of the so-ealled Filipino republic?’’ asked “TlAtfe are none now,” replied Bloobumper, “except Aguinaldo’s running expenses.”—Detroit Free Press. Tokyo, Japan, has twenty-two crematory furnaces.