The Syracuse Journal, Volume 1, Number 44, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 4 March 1909 — Page 7

•••••••••••••••••••••••••'»••• ••••••• Race r; - ■ -: ‘ : • adcXz SMART •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••»••••••••••

CHAPTER IX—I Continued.) “But, Maude, my darling—!” ' “Yes, and intend to remain so,” latfgh»d the girl merrily. “And the sooner the fact is broken to Mr. Pearman that, be Is apt ‘my destiny’s'lord,’ the better.” “Stop, child—listen to me,” and the nervous tremor in Her mother’s voice arrested Maude’s madcap humor instantly. She knew every inflexion of that dearlyloved voice, and her quick ear detected doming trouble,’ much as the sailor foresees the storm in that peculiar sobbing sound the wind sometimes gives forth shortly before the tempest bursts. In a second she dropped quietly on her knees by Mrs. DenisOn’s side, and ''leaning on the; arm of her chair, said,' 'There’s more to eome, mother; you haven't told me all yet.” “No, my dearest ; I had hoped so differently. I mean —I told your father, in short and here Mrs. Denison fairly broke down, and wept copiously. Maude petted, soothed and coaxed, as she had done on many a previous occasion; and between the showers of tears learned how much they were in the hands of the Pearmans; how that their remaining Mt Glinn was an impossibility unless the Pearmans came to their assistance; and how her hand was the price they placed on standing in the breach between Harold Denison and his creditors. About the foregoing of their own claims the poor lady wisely -said nothing. Better Maude should think her future husband stood chivalrously forward in her father’s support, with the prospect of her fair self as his guerdon, than she should know that her hand was the sole bribe which induced him to forbear seizing upon Glinn. The saucy smile had left the girl’s lips by the /time 'she comprehended the sad story, it was. replaced by a pale, anxious look, such as had never been seen before on Maud l ? Denison’s face. “Yob can’t: mean this, mother,” she said,, at length. “You surely don’t wish that I should' marry this man, whom I can’t say I dislike, for I don’t even know him enough to tell whether I do or no; but thatil am to take this man for a husband wiw.out any reference to my own feelings—you don’t intend that, do you?” “I don’t knjow what will become of us If you don’t, Maude,” gasped Mrs. Denison. i “And is it not possible that we could live Without Glinn?” inquired her daughter. y “\Vhat would your father do?” moaned he I mother ohce more, truer to him even still than to the child she adored so. /“It is hard!” said Maude, and her young face - grew stern in expression as ihe spoke. “Do you think it quite fair :hat I am to throw my life’s happiness iway at eighteen to save Glinn? Mother, 1 know nothing of the world, but a man turely brings a bad introduction to a jirl’s heart who seeks her as Mr. Pearman would apparently seek me. I don’t think I’m a romantic Tool, but I never thought. 4 :o leave your side in this wise. Os course I know girls dp marry for money; but — out—l had—had hoped I should be different,” and here Maude was seized with in hysterical choking in the throat, which though it only drew’ a few tears from her own eyes, brought forth another shower from Mrs. Denison’s. I really am shocked, for the sake of tny readers, at the amount of tears introSuced into this part of my story. “Umbrellas up!” would have made an appropriate heading to this chapter; but what im I to do? You see, Mrs. Denison is jne of those women who naturally dissolve into —may I say, mist?—on the most trifling occasions, and come down in torrents when ; things go hard with them. And, bear in mind, she ’was performing ihe hardest task that had ever fallen to her lot as yet. “No use crying about it, mother,” said Maude, gulping down her agitation bravely. “I am going up to my own room to think it all over; but come what may, I feel ait present you will have to let Mr. Pearman know that, I’m grateful for the honor he has done me, but respectfully decline anything further.” - When Maude reached'her own room, die sat down and began to muse over all her mother had told her. Had it come to this really, .that it rested with her to save her parents? What was 'she to do? I have said before that she was not like the young ladies of this world. She was rather behind the age in many of her ideas. She was very young, and had, moreover, a tinge of that dear old-fash-ioned romance about her which is at such a terrible discount in these utilitarian days. “What can there be to think about?” cries Belgravia. “Preserve- me from such an imbecile daughter!” Shrieks Tyburnia. But Maude, after thinking for half an hour, with set face and knit brows, suddenly rose with a smile rippling over her pretty face, and while the midday sun still glinted through her bonni* brown hair, sat down to write to Grenville Rose. “He always gets me Out of scrapes,” she. murmured, softly; “he must out of this, though”—and hjge she even laughed —“l’m afraid Gren wHI think this what he calls a ‘big un.’ ” CHAPTER X. Grenville Rose dwelt in the Temple. There, in a couple of pleasant rooms, he read musty law books, the latest periodicals, and waited for business. Though there was very far from, being any asceticism about Grenville Rose, yet he stuck soberly and honestly to his trade. If the work didn’t come, he couldn’t help it. He was always in the way, and an assiduous attender ait the Westminster Courts. But if you are “Coke on Lyttleton,” strongly impregnated with the departed afflatus of Erskine and Ellenborough, you cannot show it until you get an opening. The beginning of the legal profession is doomed to be principally observation. Atiiorneva are far from being speculative on

the subject of undeveloped talent. It is not given to everyone to have Sir Jonah Barrington’s chance of a friendly judge, who .insisted on his continuing the case 1 he had begun, in consequence of his leader being temporarily out of court. So that whether Grenville Rose was a coming lawyer. or a pretentious impostor, was still concealed in the womb of time. In the meanwhile, the nothing he had to do he. at all events, did conscientiously; —more, a good deal, than can be predicated of many of us. He strolls leisurely out of his bedroom, in dressing gown and slippers, the day after . Maude’s resolution, and glancing round his breakfast table, takes little notice of the heap of letters ' that lie thereon. His attention, on the contrary, is arrested by the absence of some condiment he peculiarly affects. After indulging in a solo on the bell, which produces no apparent result, he opens the window and runs up the vocal»scale oh “William,” terminating, crescendo, in “Wil-li-am!” which seems to produce some slight commotion, at length, in a boy with a pewter, and a companion furnished with shoe brushes, who are lightening the hours by pitch and toss.' Satisfied with this result, he first opens the morning paper. Grenville Rose is not in the least addicted to the pursuit or study of racing; still, like most men of his age about town, he very frequently hears it talked of. He knows the names of the prominent favorites for the coming great three-year-old events of the season. Has he not more than one friend who has asked him to book himself fbr a Grenwich dinner in the event of some Derby contingency coming off satisfactorily? He throws his eye lazily over the - sporting intelligence, and under the head of “Betting on the Two Thousand,” he perceives “Five to two against Coriander—taken freely.” “S’pos? he’ll about win. Suit Silky Dallison down to the ground, I presume; not that I know much about it. But as he hath bidden me to the consumption of clicquot and bait, if Coriander wins at Epspm. it is fair to presume he’d like to see him well through ’his smalls,’ to begin with.” Ah ! we go blundering on in. our blindness and. ignorance. Can even the most far-sighted of us ever predicate twentyfour hours ahead? What a mess Providence makes of our intricate calculations! What shallow fools we seem, after all our study! I wonder what Grenville Rose would have said, if anybody had hinted to him that within: ten days his destiny would be bound up with Coriander’s? Can you not fancy his laughing retort: “I never race! ‘What’s Hecuba to me, or 1 to Hecuba?’” Yet it will be so. Grenville tosses the paper on one side, and in a careless way takes up his letters. Two or three are thrown aside; but his pulse quickens, and. his handsome features flush a little, as he catches sight of that firm, delicate hand he knows so well. Maude’s letter had been near the bottom of the pile, or he had not glanced over the paper before reading it. That cousin of his had wound her way into his heart strangely of late. He hardly knew himself how it had all come to pass. He had bullied her as a boy; he even, till quite lately, had snubbed her as a. man. He had liked her, ay, loved her, in cousinly fashion, all his life. How was he to have dreamt that the gawky school girl who* accompanied him in his fishing expeditions at Glinn was to grow .into the lovely girl Maude had of late blossomed into? He was no fool, and had as much command over his passions as five-and-twen-ty, that sets up for no superlative virtue and lives in the world; can usually lay claim to. That anything could be more injudicious than a love affair betweenhimself, with mere undefined prospects, and the daughter of his ruined, spendthrift uncle, no One could be more clearly aware. That if Maude Denison married, it must be somebody with means and position, he thoroughly understood. That he should at present marry anybody, he quite recognized as an impossibility. And ■yet. with all these theoretical axioms distinctly present to his mind, he was forced to admit to himself that he was over head and ears in !<>ve with- his cousin. That he had never even hinted it to her was a fact upon which he gave himself most extraordinary credit. That she had as yet given him no earthly reason to suppose he was anything to her but Cousin Gren was a circumstance that he brooded over sulkily and desporidingly. With these correct and hjgh-principled views, it should have been made matter of great gratulation; but you see it was not. I am afraid it will ever be so. The right .people never do fall in love with each other; while, from the days Helen left Menelaus to the present time, the converse of the proposition seems inexhaustible and unchangeable, j But all this while Grenville Rose had been reading Maude’s epistle. His face darkens as he does so, the brows contract, and a curse breaks at last from his lips in a low, guttural tone that bodes bad times for somebody, supposing that Grenville possesses power equal to his inclination. “That brute Pearman!” he muttered. “My instinct didn’t fail me. Better I’d have dislocated his cursed neck by throwing him down stairs that night than this. And the poor child appeals to me to help her! What can I do?” Once more he glances at the letter — again he reads the paragraph: “Gren, dear, you have been my resource in all my scrapes since I can remember. Do come to my rescue now; what am I to do? My childish troubles of bygone days were not of much account, whatever they might look at the time. This seems extinguishing the sunshine of my life On the threshold—aS if I was doomed, as I heard you say not long ago. I have said I cannot, I dare not. Both papa and mother say I am to decide for myself. But it isn’t so —you know, Gren, it isn’t There’s papa, more sneering and gloomy than ever, suggesting that we had better make the moot

| of Glinn during the remaining few weeks that it remains to us ; —as I have decided |to give away the property. Mother, of course, all tears; and papa bullies her i worse than ever. Oh, tell me what to do, Gren, for I am very miserable. I can’t stand it much longer—l know I can’t I shall have to give in; I cannot bear to see mother always in tears. I almost wish I was dead, I do indeed; and yet I don’t want to die.” “Yes,” he mutters, after reading, it through for about the twentieth time; “it’s easy to see the whole thing. My precious uncle intends you shall marry Pearman, so that he may finish his days in Glinn. My aunt, poor soul, is weeping a Dead Sea over the arrangement, and having her soul harried out besides. Maude —Maude, my darling, how can I help you? Pretty chance of a pauper like myself being much use on the occasion,” he mused, jyitha bitter sneer. “She never says, poor child, by the way, what sum, if any, would stop the gap—though, of course, there must be a price. However, that is a question there is no use in raising. Os course it’s thousands; and to raise a few hundreds would require all my ingenuity, •to say nothing of terminating in my eventual destruction; not but what” it’s little I’d think of that just now, to . save Maude. My love, I am powerless!”‘ And Grenville Rose leaned his head upon his hands and tasted the bitterest sorrow this world can afford —that of an appeal for succor from‘the woman whom he loved, and the knowledge that he was powerless to help her even a hair’s breadth in her bitter anguish. Better to stand by her deathbed than this! Our nineteenth century training makes us bear such trials well. But do not.believe, my brethren, that when the mask is dropped, feelings are not much the same as of yore. Bitter tears are shed over worthless women, and deep lamenta-" tions made over rotten investments in the privacy of the bed chamber. The matutinal razor sweeps the chin at times with a strange fascination for one strong free stroke at the jugular vein; a morbid feeling to end all this weary struggle, and cut the knot of existence. A well-known writer, the other day, laid down : “It was better to be bored than to be miserable.” I can’t say I agree with him. I would rather be miserable. For more than an hour does Grenville pace his apartment, musing over Maude’s letter. But no! he can neither see help to be rendered, nor even anything to justify the slightest interference on his part.* Then he thought savagely of the old dueling days; how easy it would have been to have picked a quarrel in those good old times, and run his chance of disqualifying Pearman through the medium of a pistol bullet. But we have changed all that ; and when we quarrel nowadays, we- employ counsel instead of. firearms. I suppose it is all for the best, though I take it there was more politeness in general society when the being rude had to be so speedily justified. (To be Continued.) CHANCE FOR A BIBLIOPHILE. Unique Copy of Ancient Records, Full 'of Historical Material. Here is an opportunity for some rich collector of books, or for some library that likes to place upon its shelves tomes which are valuable as records of bygone days, says the New York World. The opportunity in question is a book believed by its present owner to be the only copy in existence, which was printed in Osnaburg, Germany, in 1628. It is valuable not so much for its age as ; for the wealth of historic material it . contains. I This book is a history of the see of Osnaburg, the -first Saxon-Germanic church, from its foundation by Charlemagne, in 772 A. D. .It relates his nomination of its first bishop, St Wiho of Frisia, and contains, first the order and series of the bishops of Osnaburg, : with an epitome of their origin and : characteristics, from 772 to 1623 and 1628, when Itel Frederick, Count of Hohenzollern, cardinal of the' Holy Roman church, and Francis William, Count of Wartenberg, successively occupied the see. . I ’ Second, the acts, canons, statutes and decrees of the synods and councils of the church held at Alemania, Cologne and Osnaburg in 1225, 1260, 1310, 1322, 1360, 1423, 1452, 1536, 1625, 1628, authenticated by notarial certificates. i Third, the apostolic mandate of Innocent VL, dated from Avignon, 1860, to Wilhelm, archbishop of Cologne, “De vita, habitu et honestate clericorum et monachorum.” Fourth, .the confirmation of the Caroline constitutions of Carolus IV., Roman emperor, ratified by the council of Constance, 1423. Fifth, the ceremonial of the assembly of the major synod of Osnaburg, 1628, and the sermon of Pater Gulielmus Aschendorf, S. J. “De vitus prcecedentibus temporibus enatis et adhue durantibus.” The book belonged in 1643 to the great library of the Bollandists at Antwerp. On the title page, in the handwriting of Father Jean de Bolland, the illustrious “ancient,” are the words: “Domus prof. Soc. Jesu, Antwerp, 1643.” (tlouse of the professed of the Society of Jesus, Antwerp, 1643.) When the Bollandists were expelled by Joseph 11. of Austria, their library was seized and sold at auction, fit was purchased for the monastery of St Norbert at Tongerloo. When these monastics were afterward driven out by the French revolutionists, their library was pillaged and the book came into the possession of Father Jean Francois Van de Velde, S. J., president of the University of Louvain. His autograph is on the opening page. The book, which is in Latin, is bound in vellum and in perfect preservation, belongs now to Joseph A. Donovan, Rochester, N. Y., who is willing to sell it for SIO,OOO. An Onnee of Prevention. Jimmie —How did you know I was going to call? Her Little Sister —I saw Nell ta> ing the pins out of her belt.—Puck.

interests! t••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Beat to Wed Conntry Girl. The country girl has in many ways a decided advantage over her town-bred cousin. As a guest, the country girl gives little or no trouble in the house. No special dishes have to be prepared to coax a captious appetite, for she enjoys with a healthy relish everything that is set before her. At breakfast she is always fresh and amiable, while the town girl is sleepily toying with a morsel of toast. ■ From a man’s point of view a country cousin presesses many admirable traits which he devoutly wishes the town girl would emulate. In the fii*§t x place, she can don her walking attire and be.ready to accompany him Tor a stroll before the girl from the city , would even have decided which hat she would wear for the occasion. The best type of country girl makes a splendid wife. She is not, used to being pampered in every little whim, and the man who wins her. has a wife who will face any trouble witlli him, be it great or small. Shrinking Materials. Before making the white linen dress skirt, or any material that is liable to shrink, fold the goods carefully and place it in a tub and cover with water. Let it get thoroughly wet Stretch the clothes line as tightly as possible, hang the goods through the center, and pin perfectly straight on the line. When dry let two persons stretch the goods, as curtains are stretched, fold it with the wrong side of the material out and iron it double, with the seam

ATTRACTIVE STYLES IN HATS.

The hat at the top is amodified helmet of blacksatin, trimmed with a baud of velvet and a military plume of pale yellow. The turban on.the right is of marabout, in i taupe color, with two scarlet wings across the side. The

running through the center of the goods on the length of the material. In shrinking colored prints for children’s clothes, add turpentine to the water and it will set the color. - A teaspoonful . is used to a gallon of water. History Repeats Itself. ’ The fact is recalled that a number of years ago, in the early days of the woman suffrage movement. Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton wore bloomers. They did not continue i to do so for any length of time, however. as they came to the inclusion that it was needless self-sacrifice on their part. Now, it is rumored that the suffragettes in England, in order that they in ay be always prepared for forcible ejection, wear trousers under ' their petticoats. Strings are now being worn on hats and tied under the chin. The newest straw hats seen in the shops have tiny brims not more than two inches wide, and a few have no brims at all. Many of the new hats are trimmed with quills—-in bunches of live or six, in different shades of a color or in as many different colors. A large black picture hat has as trimming a sweeping bird of paradise in shades of bright red, orange and yellow, which looks for all the world like flames of fire. A gorgeous chapeau is a large Russian turban, completely covered with tear-shaped black spangles and an immense bunch of shaded rose aud pink ostrich plumes rearing themselves proudly at one side, The Old-Fashioned Woman. The old-fashioned woman looked well to the ways of her household. She was not particularly ambitious for a career or a calling. She did not know that she was downtrodden, or realize her ignominious servitude to a false assumption of superiority on the part of the unfair sex. She found the homage and chivalry of mankind delightful, and took it ’at its face value. Nor did

she trouble herself about the potential reconstruction of the family on a new basis of relationship. She was not struggling to be recognized as man’s equal, for she found it tacitly admitted on all sides that she was man’s superior. She felt a deep and rational, delight in various concerns and enterprises, but these were not of such a nature as to call for the sacrifice of her first and nearest interests which were maternal and domestic.—Philadelphia Public Ledger. Brides are coming more and more to leave off the face veil. ’ . . Some of the new combs have the tops so arranged that ribbon may be threaded through. The silk manufacturers are doing their best to bring brocades into broad and general use. Embroidered and braided materials that require handwork have still the greater popularity. Cotton crepe is now being offered in black as well as white, and in blue, pale violet and pink. Long bead necklaces of coral or large cut beads have come in, apparently, to

hat on the left is of shirred taffeta, in iridescent tones of green and black. Across the crown is one of the new ' feathers that curl upward at the ends. The quill is run through a large rosette of bright green satin. «

stay; they seem to out! ine the vest as they hang. Round and square yokes have been banished for the moment and the Vshape reigns supreme. One conspicuous novelty is the iise ot large cut jet buttons on white and pale colored tailor-made suits. An odd trimming on a white marabou turban is a cluster of yellow velvet peaches and green leaves. ' Many fancy ties are being worn just now; bead ties and braided ties with beaded tassels are very pretty. The new mantles, simply hung and of rough cloth, made in the monastic manner, are dignified and quietly stylish, Embroideries grow daily more beautiful. They are mostly subdued iu shade, according-to the coloring of the eighteenth century. • ' An exquisite hair ornament is a wreath of sheaves of wheat made of brilliant rose gold spangles, interwoven with lilies of the valley. Big, round Eton collars will probably hold their own all through the spring. They may be made of plain linen, or decorated with squares of lace set in. Cord belts are the latest wrinkle in girdles. These come in almost any Standard shade and are fastened in front with a huge colored stone in barbaric design. Most Os the coats are a straight knee-length. Many of them are fastened with jet buttons, and a black ribbon threads through the collar and ties in a bow in front. Many women have the mistaken idea that the present fashionable dress, which seemed extreme at first, is trying to the figure; but, truth to tell, it is exactly the reverse. One of the best of the new shirtwaist styles is a perfectly plain tailormade, of Scotch madras in stripes or , big blocks of color on a white ground, the color matching the suit. Plain gored skirts prevail. One of the new models, plainly gored, has a front panel trimmed at each side near i the bottom with three of these big jet : buttons, one over the other. < Landing a Husband. - An Atchison family of three girls, all of them equally attractive, had a curi- ’ osity to know the best method of landing a husband, and agreed to try an 1 experiment. One of them learned to i cook, and was a domestic sort of girl. 1

Another learned shorthand and got a position in a downtown office. The third devoted all her attention to society. If we were writing a story we would marry off the girl who could cook within three months, but, alas! the facts are different. The society girl has landed a wealthy man, the stenographer has another nibbling; but th< real herohw. the. one who can make light biscuit®, cook a beefsteak and boil a soup bone, has attracted no attention whatever.—-Atchison Globe. f - Milk Diet to larreane Welcht. Drink a pint of hot water on rising. In half an hour eat six prunes that have been soaked over night. In half an hour drink half a cup of milk, and every three-quarters of an hour drink the same, Increasing gradually the amount qntil a cup instead of half a cup can be drunk. Before retiring eat a tablespoonful of bran In half a cup of milk. Six quarts of milk a day is the quantity finally to be taken. No solid food mufjt be taken, else you will keep thin. A woman paid $25 foiythe above system to a firm of fattening people, and gained 30 pounds in six weeks. The Popular Dinner Giver. Invites congenial guests. Is not; hit or miss in seating them. Pays more attention to cooking than to show. Does not think length of menu the sole object of dinner giving. Tactfully avoids discussions and dissertations at table. Cap rise above failures and overlook breaks or breakage. s Roseleaf Cream. Women in India use a strange beauty treatment to obtain charming complexions. It consists of binding a delicate roseleaf' cream upon the face. Pink petals of the rose are plucked and made

up with oils into a thin cream, which is then spread upon the face. It is said that this will heal the skin, fatten the facp and render it a . beautiful pink color. To intensify the beauty of the hue. colored beads are worn round the neck LThe gems to wear with glowing cheeks are tPpaz. garnets, deep rubies and large semiprecious beads of a red and yellow hue. * ' ■' ■ Only a Cloud. Only little fleeting cloud 1 .On the blue of summer sky, But it-widened out and darkened o’er As, the'summer day went by. Chilly, it grew, the gray old earth, And the grieved world murmured low, Till tlie fleeting cloud went on its way In the evening’s sunset glow. :.■ ‘ I Little the word with its cruel sting, But it rankles in the heart, And my life’s grown gray since that harsh ! word That has kept us two apart. ■ ! ' ~ For Pimples. Take a. 5-cent package of epsom salts, add two quarts of water and let it simmbr down to one quart. Take a several times a day, and also wet the afflicted parts often. Generally good results may be seen in a day or two. This recipe is said to be good !for any eruption of the skin, as it is pooling to the blood. Drink For the Sick. A convalescent often suffers greatly from! thirst and is not permitted to drink enough water to allay it. In such cases slightly avid drink generally gives relief. A few drops of lemon water, unsweetened, is refreshing and digestible. Orange juice and cracked ice can be given to a patient who can retain little, else. ! It Pays to Be Agreeable. It is much better to get along equably with people than to antagonize them. In the former way all is serene, while in the latter there is constant friction. This is good for no one and will, pot be tolerated long in any office. Girls vfho are inclined to indulge in it will find themselves replaced by others who are well mannered. A Strengthening Drink. Into a glass of cold water put the unbeaten white of an egg, juice of half an orange and juice of a" third of a lemon. Add sugar if it is desired sweet. Stir, but do not beat. This is splendid for invalids.

I A Wonderful Shot. I They were telling how well they <ould shoot, and Tom Dawson recalled i i duck hunt in which he had brought I < own five birds with one shot Talk about ’'shootin’,” began Old 1 fan Tilford; “I saw Jim Ferris do a nighty neat piece of work one day , last week. His wife was puttin’ out tle washin’ and she was complainin’ a out the pesky makin’ dirt n arks on the damp clothes with their ft et. “ 'They’re thick as bees ’round here,* si ys she. There’s seven of ’em sittin’ oi the clothes-line this blessed mipui e.’ ‘ ‘l’ll fix ’em,’ says Jim, takin’ down hi ; shotgun, which he alius keeps loadec with fine bird-shot. He tiptoed to the door, took aim, an—” Killed every one Os them sparrows,” br ke in Dawson. You’re wrong,” cotrected Tilford, ca nly; “he never teched ’em, but when hii wife took In the washin’, she found sh had three pair of openwork stockin' . and a fine peek-a-boo shirt-waist.” •—(Success Magazine. Sailer’s Seed Produce. recently saw a letter from Wm. Un lerwood. of Patchogue, N.' Y., addrt ;sed to the John A. Salzer Seed Co., Bo C, La Crosse, Wis., that has this x to ay: ‘I planted Salzer’s Independence Corn, I sold 7,000 ears before the first Sw et Corn of other gardeners around Loi g Island was ready to eat I sold the n as high as $2.50 per 100 ears. “ planted Salzer’s Earliest Cucumber see l and first, fest and all the time. I thli.k that Salzer’s Earliest are the gre .test I ever saw. They are such bea ers, and so fine.” Another Knock. ' Eerey Pickier-Aw—-1 called on Miss Wo»e last night and for two hours shs placed on the piano. 5 iss Tabasco—Yes, and she said the mu ic reminded her of you. Percy Pickle —Os me? In what wayl k iss Tabasco—lt was so soft and si4k •. ■ | A Cure for Colds and Grip. T ere is inconvenience, suffering and danger in a! eold, and the wonder is that people will take so few precautions against cold . One or two Lane’s Pleasant Tablets (be sure of the name) taken when the first snuffly feeling'appears, will stop the progress of a cold and save a great deaLjpt unn< eessary suffering. Druggists and dealers ;enerally sell these tablets, price 25 cent: If you cannot get them send to Oral >r F. Woodward, Leßby, N. Y- Sample free. “ Feminine Lack of Logic. Tell a wife that men are selfish, she will readily acquiesce. But'tell that same woman that by spoiling her boys —whether in the nursery or at school, or university—she is sowing the seeds of egotism, she will give in emphatic denia I. Nothing Doing, Floorwalker —Can 1 do anything sot you, madam? Mr Kleptomeyer—No, thanks, 1 don’t wish to buy. I'm just out shop liftim ■..--Judge. A 1 Up-to-Date Hou»ekeeper» Use Red Cross Ball Blue. It makes the clothes clean and sweet as when new. AU Grocei».' ’ ■ Just the Opposite. • The motorist came out of the garaga all be iecked in bearskin and goggles. “I’n out for a fast spin,”' he remarked as he pulled on his globes. ‘They say a speed of 70 milqs an hour is a to lie for the nerves when they are run dt wn.” « “I haven’t noticed it,” said the stranger who was passing. ‘That’s queer. And you own a car?” “No, I’m a pedestrian.” Averting a Catastrophe, Gwei dolen —D, Jack, whan you tall like th: t you break my heart! < Jack (in, a whisper) —I won’t do i| any more, dearest. Awfter this I'll saj ither aud nyther. Some of the moon’s mountains are 36,000 feet high.

HiIOEEMgI RATSSMICE EXTERMINATED BY DANYSZ VIRUS The wonder/ jl, new bacteriological preparation, discovered an« prepared by ••r. Jean Danysz, Director of the Laboratory of Agri cultural Mie o>Biotogy at the Pasteur Institute, Paris. NOT 4 POISON. E \ RMLESS TO HUMAN BEINGS, DOMESTIC ANI OTHER ANIM ALS, BIRDS, etc., yeUatal to rats and mice Th« vermin alwa sgo outside to die. Easily prepared and applied HOW UUCP TO USE. Small house one tube, ordinary dwell in | three tubes 1 f rats are numerous not less than six tubes). On< or two doze tubes for stable with hay loft and yard attached Similar qua a titty on each rat infested floor of warehouse oi granary for ich 5,000 square feet floor space. Towns or estates 1 to 2 dozen per acre inhabited area; 3 to 6 tubes per aaro foi Sold Jn glass tubes, full dirtetion round each tuba 1 tube 75c 3 tubes $1.75, or $6.00 per dozen, delivered Indej indent Chemical Company BS OIJ> LIP . . NEW YORK, N.Y. ON ON SEED 6 X MH I Per Salzer’s catalog page 129. ■■■ Large t growers of onion and vegetable seeds in the world. Big catalog free: or, send IS© in stamps and receive catalog and 1000 k ‘irnels each of onions, carrots, celery, radisl <ia. 1500 each lettuce, rutabaga, turnips. -.oft parsley, 100 tomatoes, too melons, laoo harming flower see<is, in all 10,000 kerne is,. easily worth SI.OO of any man’s mone . Or, send 20c and we will add one pits. < ft Earliest Peep O’Day Sweet Corn. MLZJ S SEED CO., Box CN La Crosse, Wls. g